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Chapter Text

The scene was made clear. You owed a hefty debt to Northland Bank. And, according to the top executive, you had a charm. A charm that could be bought and sold in exchange for the heinous amount of money you had to borrow to cover medical expenses. It was a moonlit night with you dressed in the finest of Snezhnayan fashion. Gray furs matched with expensive silk garments. All for tonight, all for this executive that could simply wave away your debt. Your eyes look at the meal in front of you, a traditional chicken dish from Liyue. It appeared expensive, so you hadn’t taken a bite yet. Especially since the guest of honor hadn’t arrived. 

Fatui guards lined the place of residence you were at, sometimes taking a cursory look over your features. You sat, patient, for the one that was supposed to help. It was nerve wracking since you weren’t sure what would happen. The Fatui were known to be ruthless individuals. Was this person one to tear off these expensive clothes, make you less of a person? Or was he simply a gracious sponsor who wanted to see you move past your debts? With all his wealth, Fatui could just be hired as security after all. 

The moon shone down from the window you were sitting next to, your eyes watching the driveway like a hawk. The food would get cold soon. Just how big of a deal was this man? You exhale sharply, picking up your fork.

“Hey! No food until the boss arrives,” a voice barks from the corner. You drop the fork, turn to bow and whisper a lowly ‘Sorry’. One wrong move and your debts would be reactivated, it seemed. You blew a piece of  your hair out of your face, the sight of a carriage coming into sight. You gulp, seeing guards occupy either side of the carriage. It rides up, past the window’s view as the grunts stumble and open the front door of the mansion. 

Quiet steps approach the door, with many Fatui guards bowing and saying their well wishes to whoever this executive was. You turn, fixing your hair and clothes as the boss man comes to view. Fancy glasses, dark blue hair, and a pale face…hmm, now that you were remembering. This may have been one of the folks you happened to glance at going into the executive rooms at a Northland Bank location you visited not too long ago. His smile was eerie, like he was hiding something under that immaculate grin. 

“Good evening, apologies for my lateness,” he said. You shake your head, explaining he doesn’t need to apologize. He was already doing so much to help with your debt. A nearby gunman takes his coat, hanging it up besides your fur one. He takes a seat in front of you, folding his hands and observing your features. You gulp, sitting still as you try to avoid eye contact.

“Look at me,” the man says, his tone getting more stern.You turn your eyes to look at him more closely, those blue eyes seeming to calculate you.  Those thick, silver glasses, with more silver running down either side of his face. It was difficult to get a read on him. You wait for his next instruction, your hands laced in front of you. For as appealing as he looked, he sure did carry some weight around here. But why did he select you from all the foolish folks owing money to Northland Bank to have dinner with? Was it due to the day, Valentines Day, or was it something deeper? You kept your glance on him, despite how anxious this was making you. His eyes were barely open, just a big smile and a relaxed disposition. The quiet in the room felt heavy, as his face turned to the Fatui guards near him.

“Leave. Come back tomorrow morning to escort the miss home,” the man said, turning back to you, “Call me Sir. And if you have any dignity left, please disregard it.” You nod at those words, watching from the corner of your eye those Fatui guards leave in troves. You wonder why he sent the security away. You figured he knew you had no vision or any way to fight back. But he should still be safe nonetheless, no?

“Sir, erm, what is i–” you start to say, but the man raises a gloved finger.

“No. You aren’t behaving. Girls that misbehave don’t get their debt forgiven, ok?” Sir spoke, his tone turning ever sterner. You tightly hold your lips shut. That was quite the line to lead with, and now, you felt nervous to even speak. You watch as Sir proceeds to lift his silverware, poking at the foreign dish before taking a bite of it.

“Mmmm, quite the delicacy. Much too spicy for my taste. Well, why don’t you take a bite now? Food’s already cold as it is,” Sir spoke, gesturing with his fork for you to take a bite. You move quickly, cutting off a piece of the spicy dish and putting it in your mouth. You have some difficulty swallowing due to the spice level, grabbing the water and downing it immediately. You start to wonder about this Sir, about his real name, about what he really was trying to do here. But the wonder stops when you feel your mouth burn from the spice. 

“V-Very spicy,” you choke out of your spice coated throat, rubbing it while looking over at Sir. The man simply chuckles in return, continuing to eat the dish without breaking a sweat. 

“Now now, don’t waste your food my dear. Otherwise, well, you know what will happen,” Sir says, keeping that sternness. That ever looming threat of debt keeps you eating, coughing, and trying your best to show decent table manners. Sir watches with interest, eating his meal with a delightful chuckle. You see his eyes turn stony as one of the times you cough, you get some chili peppers on the chest portion of your dress. You worry only between times of coughing and praying that the burning in your chest goes away.

Once your plate is cleared, your throat feels like it’s on fire. You couldn’t get a word out if you wanted to. Your eyes constantly turn to Sir, his disposition still pleasant albeit his tone somber. His blue eyes continue to glance over yours, seeming to delight in what pain that Liyue dish caused your throat. It was sadistic, but you expected nothing less from him. You continue to stroke your throat, gulping hard to try and get the saliva to cool it down.

“Well, with dinner done, let’s get down to the festivities, shall we?” Sir spoke, standing from his seat. He turns his heel toward another part of the massive dwelling. You follow, too nervous to get close. The sound of his boots continue to click along the wood flooring. The house was huge but bare.  It was empty besides the basic necessities. But even those essentials appeared expensive. Your eyes wander across the expansive house, only to be stopped by a gloved hand along your throat. You wheeze, eyes focusing on Sir. His eyes still seemed fairly calm, same with his demeanor. But the grip…it felt incredibly strong. Sturdy. You could hardly get any air in.

“Do you want to know why I forgave your debt, you silly girl?” Sir spoke, his lips getting close to your ear. You nod hurriedly, hoping it would suffice for him to lessen his grip. But, no, the grip gets tighter. Your wheezing becomes a struggle to inhale, your eyes struggling to focus on the blue-haired man in front of you. How did he manage to be so composed, so calm while doing something like this? It was starting to intrigue you, but that intrigue faded with the pain growing along your throat.

Just as your vision starts to blur, he drops you like a sack of potatoes. You fall to the ground with a ‘thud’, legs scrambling to stand up in fear of upsetting him. The outfit, too, was way too expensive to mess up more than it already was from your struggle with the Liyue dinner dish. Your coughs and dry heaves left more small bits of jueyun chili along the bodice.

“W-W-Why,” you ask, hands shaking in fear. Sir proceeds to walk up close to you, mouths inches apart, eyes still showing that same sunny disposition. His hands begin to gently caress the silk of your dress, from your ass right up to your breasts. He handles them gently, though his hands seemed more focused on the mess you made on the dress than anything else. The peppers start to fly off toward the floor. The bodice gradually comes back to its gray pallor. There are some spots that still show staining, but it appeased him enough to earn a click from his tongue.

“Well, as you know, today is Valentine's Day. And every year I pick a lucky girl to forgive their debts in exchange for, well, what will happen tonight. You will not complain or whine about this to any of your friends. You will listen to my every command. And, no matter what, you will be grateful. Do you understand these conditions,” Sir said, eyes  wandering from the stained dress to your face. You give a clumsy nod, using your hands to stay standing against the wall. You begin to wonder if the choking was a test. To see how far your limits would be, how far you would be willing to go for your debt to be wiped. They were significant after all. You were prepared for anything the moment the Fatui Mage dressed you up. You recall her words of advice, letting it echo and encourage you to continue onward.

“It’s only for one night.”

Sir leads you up the stairs next, grabbing tightly onto your arm. You follow, his grip causing you to weakly flail forward as your feet try to keep up with his pace. Through the hallways and large canvas artworks, Sir starts to enter the room, but stops halfway. He inhales, pulling you forward as you trip inside the room.

Your eyes look up to see an ordinary bedroom, fully furnished. Your face turns to Sir, still lying down, to see him looking over your body with a certain lust. You close your eyes, tight, not wanting to witness what will happen to you. You would rather just feel it instead. 

“Get on the bed,” Sir says. A kick hits at your stomach, causing you to curl over. More kicks follow, with those words echoing in your head. You manage to get on your hands and knees, eyes still closed, as your fingers try to locate the bedding.

“How intriguing, keeping your eyes closed,” Sir said, giving you a final swift kick, “Keep this up and you’ll owe more by the time the night’s over.”

This makes you scramble quicker, eyes opening, finding the bedding and climbing onto the bed. You exhale sharply, the burn from the spicy dish still nestled within your throat. Your eyes turn to Sir, that haunting chuckling following. You avert your eyes elsewhere, unsure of what would occur next. How exactly would you explain your bruises to your co-workers tomorrow? You wanted to ask, but at the risk of losing the deal, you keep your mouth sealed shut.

Sir approaches, dropping off his clothing piece by piece. Your eyes watch in interest, but mostly, in fear. The man was coming off as unpredictable, and at best, passionate. You held onto what little pride you had and stayed clothed, watching him approach you with a bare chest. His pants and belt remained on, though everything else littered the floor.

Sir eases himself onto the bed, grasping your leg to bring your ass closer to him. You offer no struggle, simply staring at the dull gray paint on the wall. You had no objections to the deal, after all. A night of being beaten in exchange for your medical debt being absolved? It was a deal you could only dream of, and one you partially wished stayed in your dreams. Because the stinging from your limbs and throat were becoming unbearable. 

You could feel Sir still kept his gloves on, his grip still strong along your legs as he pulled at the fabric of your dress. Your heartbeat quickens at the thought of what he’ll do next. Would he start beating your legs now, or would he switch it up and aim for your face? You gulp, shaking as the adrenaline kicks in.  

His hands felt like a butchers, gripping and moving your limbs as if they were meat. Your face still averted elsewhere, to the paint on the wall, to try and drum up some semblance of modesty. His hand drags deep into your flesh, sure to leave a bruise. He hums all the while, the man seeming to find enjoyment in this process.

Sir continues, gripping the limbs, leaving deep imprints, and moving onto the next section of leg. You swear you feel his nose nuzzle up to yours one time, as if smelling it. You disregard your judgment in fear of him sniffing it out, simply lying on the bed and taking it. 

Whatever was happening felt closer to a rough massage now. But you had no complaints, not wanting to revert to the kicking from earlier. As you lie there, you begin to wonder about what doors this could open for your future, what new things you could attempt  to learn and grow from. A slap along your thighs brings you back to the moment, eyes moving to the ever so winsome Sir.

His blue hair contrasted well against his pale complexion, his smile a betrayal to the acts he had been committing so far today. For what it was worth, he was very attractive. And maybe even a bit accommodating, well, given the circumstances. Your eyes move back toward the wall, but only for a moment, as you feel a yanking sensation along your thighs. Soon you are on Sir’s lap, his hands greedily grabbing at you from every which angle. 

You gasp, which he chuckles at heartily. His smile betrays his actions again, those butcher hands squeezing hard along your thighs, up to your waist, and now, your face. His grip was becoming a familiar experience now, your body now aching from his touch. Such a heavy handed grip left you breathless, partially out of fear of what was to come.

“Such an interesting specimen, you are,” Sir says, his lips caressing your body, kissing along the bruised skin, keeping his tight grip along your waist. You stay silent, allowing him to admire your body features in utter silence. Your brain, however, starts to think of different excuses to tell the co-workers of your body’s eventual bruised state. You were running through all of the popular options; a bad fall, a long hike, a poor shave, the list was growing but the pain was too. It erupted from your legs throughout your entire body, being bruised by his heavy hands and desire to ‘examine’ you. You also suppose part of it as punishment for ruining such an expensive dress with the spicy filling from the chicken dish. You had only yourself to blame, after all. Your eyes, getting curious, turn to Sir to see his current status. That grin on his face was still there, but the eyes–they were looking at yours with longing. Your hands inch a bit closer, his hands taking yours. You feel a jerk to lay on his lap, which you obey. Your head was nestled right between his thighs, which was surprisingly comfortable. His pants were still on, so it made for a less sexualized experience. You look up at him with curiosity, his eyes coming closer to yours. His gloved hand comes to cup your chin, tightly gripping it.

You lie in his lap, quiet, waiting for his next move. You can feel the pressure squishing your face tight. You kept your face as neutral as possible, staring up at those calculating blue eyes. You wonder if this was his way of doing something for charity. Hm, no, this felt too personal. A way to waste time on Valentine's Day perhaps? Your eyes search for meaning in his face, but you can’t read him at all. He’s a blank (somewhat happy) face. And his hands, so agile, slip along your waist as you lie in his lap.

“There’s something about your vulnerability I enjoy. Keep that face, will you,” Sir says, squeezing your face harder. You wince, unable to keep it exact, but stay as still as possible. You can feel his eyes on you, hot, anticipating your every move. You can’t help but feel a bit exposed. You wanted to be good for him, get your debt nice and dealt with, but this was something you could hardly handle much more of. The prospect of being debt free in exchange for bruises and scars was…brutal. Somewhat manageable if spaced out, but it was relentless with this Sir. He kept grabbing at your limbs, your body, with no care for the marks he leaves. And that face, that unmoving face, it was beginning to make you feel fear. A fear you couldn’t quite place your finger on. So you lied there, in his lap, with his grip threatening your bones’ constitution. You want to say stop, you want to take a break, but the threat of the debt looms over you. This is your one chance to get out, and by some string of luck, this man was willing to pull the debt off your back. All you had to do was take what he was giving you right now. 

Sir’s chuckle erupted again, that pale face so  close to your own now. His eyes were scanning again, with that longing, with that unpredictability that made you want to scream. But you stayed still and behaved. You could feel the silver from his glasses touch your face, the coldness causing you to shiver slightly.

“Ah, so helpless,” Sir whispers, pressing his nose against yours, “Yet so alluring. When I saw you at the bank, I knew it had to be you this year.” You stay still, quiet, simply taking note of how lucky you were with your looks in how you were chosen. The moment you take to relish in your good luck is swiped by his lips, pressing against yours with a grit that was missing up until now. You stay still, feeling his lips open to invite his tongue between your lips. You open your mouth, feeling this tongue cover each and every corner. Somehow even his tongue feels the tinge cold, his hands moving from your waist now to your chest. There’s a heaviness that lies within your chest. You try to exhale, but you fear that’ll upset Sir. So you stay as still as one could with a man’s tongue down your mouth. You can feel his aggression grow, his hands tightly holding onto your shoulders. You stay still, allowing him to do as he wished.

His hands move from your shoulders to your long, flowing gown. The length starts to wrap around your neck, tightening around your body. You don’t protest in fear of debt recollection, but inhale sharply to prepare for the lack of air. Sir cackles at this, giving the gown a tight tug around your neck.

“Now now, don’t be coy,” Sir says with a smile, his hands tightening in the silk. You attempt to gasp for air, your hands shivering against the bed sheets underneath. His gentle smile tells less than his actions, one of his hands moving to further the pressure along your neck. Sir’s face moves in closer, the coldness from his glasses hitting the side of your cheek. You can make out more details of his face–like the length of his nose, the scent of his body…it was becoming overwhelming. You feel your eyes start to roll back, but he leers back at the sight.

“Hmm, so that’s your limit,” Sir mutters, gently untying the silk from your throat. You stay still, though you can’t control some of the tremors from your hands. Was he going to choke you until you blacked out? Or, worse, do things to you while you were unconscious? Now you were having doubts about the contract entirely. Having your debt wiped tonight would mean nothing if you were dead tomorrow. The words Sir said earlier echo in your mind.

“Leave. Come back tomorrow morning to escort the miss home,”  you recalled, shivering at what ‘home’ could mean.

“Nervous my dear? We haven’t even gotten to the wax yet,” Sir said, the smile on his face growing from ear to ear, “Unless you would like to back out now..?” You think over your options, hard, and determine if this was worthwhile. The pain was becoming more bearable, especially since you seemed to have reached a break. But the pain was everywhere–the grips along your thighs, waist, chests, worst at the throat. Could you truly handle whatever the wax foretold? And would you get out of here alive?

“No. I just. Never,” you start to say, but then those lips collide with yours once again. His mouth forces yours to open, those lips prying at yours. You lay on your back still, in too much pain to fight back much. He’s aggressive, painfully so as his teeth start to bite at your lips. You grunt into his lips, met with another happy-go-lucky chuckle. His arms plant on either side of you, his lips moving away to greet you with another one of his smiles.

“Good. Be good, stay here while I prepare something else,” Sir says, lifting himself off the bed and into one of the many unmarked rooms of the home. You stay lying down, unaware of what wax would do to you. Would it be hot? Cold? Was he trying to mold your body shape like some strange eccentric rich guy would? You would only lie back and wait, the thoughts circling back to the number of excuses you’d have to throw at your co-workers. Even if you did feel compelled to tell, they’d believe you none (or you’d end up back in Fatui hands). You could hear some sounds of things clinking against others, but could not make out what the overall sound was. There was for sure a click of some sort of burner, yes, but there was no other clue or inclination.

If it were more of the same, you could take it, breaks pending. But the man’s silence always felt deadly. You could only imagine what type of mess would be made of you from the wax. Was he going to go easier, or was it just worse from here on out? You continued to lay in the silk bedding, observing just how soft and plush the bed sheets felt. You let out a brief exhale, getting a bit…bored? You try to bite your own tongue at the thought, Sir re-entering the room with what appeared to be…what?

Your face moves up, curious, unsure of what the different mixtures were on the silver platter. One appeared like the typical wax color, while the rest alluded you. You gulp, sitting up straight on the edge of the bed. You had to be at his attention, after all. 

“Good girl. Now for the wax,” Sir states, placing the silver platter underneath your feet. You could feel the heat rise up and tickle your toes, causing you to shiver. He laughs at this, gripping you at the fabrics of your dress. You lean in, inhaling sharply as your eyes meet his again. Plain, a simple smile, almost peaceful even. What type of psycho was the man in front of you, anyway? You kept your face as still as you could, watching as the man's other hand picked up one of the metal tools. You could hear scraping and then–

You yelp out in pain, feeling a hot substance drip down one of your legs. You jerk back on instinct, but Sir pulls you closer still. Your breathing becomes labored, eyes big, unsure if you could handle whatever this wax stuff entails. More drips come right after that one, searing at your skin. It’s a struggle to stay quiet and impossible to stay still.

“Hmm? How much mora do you owe again?” Sir asks, his eyes turning sinister as he looks down at you. You're unable to calculate at this exact moment, but you get the overwhelming feeling you should sit down, shut up, and take it. Besides…if you refused now, how much worse would it get? And for what, not being able to take a bit of pain? Before you could get your thoughts in order again, you feel more searing pain along your legs again. The hot wax feels as if it's burning your legs, biting your lips to deny the sound from coming out. You refuse the air from leaving your mouth, your legs shivering all the while. You had to bear it. You could do it, you had to…otherwise the entire night would be worthless. 

“Hmm? Is my good girl learning her place again?” Sir asks, this time moving his hand from your dress to your chin. He forces it up so you face him properly, your eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights. You felt exposed to some degree, revealed, nervous…vulnerable. You felt like prey corned by a pack of wolves, circling, waiting for the opportune moment to attack. The shivers move to your entire body, small lines of blood trailing from where your teeth were biting down.

Sir cackles at this reaction, seeming to adore it so. He holds your face, the metal device seeming to dig into another liquid. And, again, that searing pain continues more. It didn’t quite feel like wax this time, no, the burning feeling stayed longer and it was setting more harshly. The temperature felt higher, almost as if he took a piece of the sun and seared it into your skin. Your shivers ran through your entire body, eyes struggling to keep straight at Sir’s face in front of you.

“A bit of Searin, for the dress of course. You’ll find the pain a bit more…off putting. But, that’s the price for messing up my favorite dress gown, girl,” Sir explains, using his metal device to drip even more of the material onto your bare legs. Your writhe in pain, unable to hide the pure discomfort this was bringing you. Tears trail down your face, his laughter filling the room. You could only assume someone as rich and powerful as him got off to something like this. All you could do was hope you didn’t bleed much more from your lips, mouth barely able to contain the wails that were building in your throat. Sir continues this, metal device, wax, pain, and laughter. It was a cycle he seemed to get the utmost pleasure from, a scarlet blush building underneath those pale cheeks of his. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at the man. He was paying off your debts after all. And, despite all of the pain you were feeling, it had to end eventually…right? 

“Hmm. You are an interesting specimen. Most give up around now,” Sir comments. He moves the silver platter away, which nearly gives you a feeling of relief. But you knew something else would come to pass. This couldn’t be all the man had in store for you. You stayed, sitting as still as you could save the occasional shiver, trying to anticipate the next move. Would he whip you next, slap you around, choke you out more? A strange sadistic side of you had been coming out with these predictions. How else did you manage to think of such precarious motions without dropping a single hint on your face, after all? You await his next instruction, hand slowly letting go of your chin. It appeared you had earned yourself another break. Just as your body begins to relax, you feel his body over yours, his hands pinning down either side of you.

His lips take yours, tongue greedily bypassing yours to explore your mouth. You allow this, body laying limp underneath him. His legs grind against your own, a painful groan escaping your lips. You were going to be **very** bruised by the time the wax cooled off enough to peel, you figured. As you shut your eyes, you hear Sir click his tongue. You take that as his disapproval of you closing your eyes, but you simply shake your head. Maybe a little defiance would–wait–were you starting to get into this? You aren’t able to stew on the revelation much as he flips you on top of him, his hands tightly gripping your own.

“Hm, what has possessed you to defy me, I wonder?” Sir asks. You slowly open your eyes to see his eyes narrowing at yours. You had no words for how you felt, but you wanted to continue to defy him. To get more of his punishments, to get more of his attention. Why? Well, you couldn’t quite explain it yet. It just made you feel powerful. And that power, that desire to overstep and be punished, was filling your heart with a certain joy. With what little strength you could muster, you roll off of Sir. You feel your legs burning as you do so, letting out another pained groan. You don’t answer Sir, in hopes for more punishment.

You feel gloved hands grab you by the drying wax, causing another loud groan to come out. Several groans would continue to follow, his rough hands grabbing you by the legs and holding you up by them. Your head was now just above the sheets. Your eyes were enamored by the gray color and the hopelessness of the situation. You continue to groan, weakly kicking your legs with little movement. Sir was strong. You were weak. Somehow those simple statements made you feel at peace. You still don’t give him the answer, the respect he is looking for. Even as you continue to groan out in pain, wiggling weakly, eyes barely able to focus on any single thing. The blood was starting to rush to your head after all.

Your body bounces off the bed as he drops you with little care, your legs falling off the bed. You grip at the bedsheets underneath you, exhaling sharply as you narrowly avoid being thrown off the bed. Your eyes manage to focus enough on Sir, trying to convey a sort of defiance. You wanted him to hurt you more. You wanted to see just how far this rich guy would go.  You wanted to crack that pleasant face into something ugly. Because that’s all you had to look forward to at this point.

As you continue to stare down Sir, his facial expression fails to change. His hair is still framed by his bangs, his winsome smile stays, and his words still hang in the air. You stay quiet. You wanted to see how badly he would hurt, how much pain he was willing to inflict. It was like the wax woke up something buried inside of you and it wouldn’t lay to rest until you received more pain. You stare at Sir. You shift so that your knees are bent at the foot of the bed, belly straddling the side, with your hands propping up your head on the bed. You continue to hold your facial expression, as if this was a stare-off now. You wish you could crack the man’s smile, but he seemed unmoving. As if he was expecting your eventual response or retort. As if he knew your lips would open just as they were now.

“What now?” you ask, ignoring the pain your legs were screaming out in. You could just lay back in bed, but now, you are committing to this plan now. You wanted to see this man’s face turn dark, to something especially heinous. Maybe it would twist into something sinister, or maybe mad, or even…sadness? The anticipation kept your pain at bay, the slow setting wax clinging to your skin.

He remains quiet, facial expression the same. It was starting to confuse you. If all he wanted was to inflict pain, now was the perfect time. You were defying him, you weren’t crying out in pain. How come he wasn’t trying to corner you like last time? It was starting to make you upset, in a strange way. You were becoming accustomed to his strong grip, his commanding voice, his seemingly brutal way of achieving joy. Was he ready to turn in after some boring wax pouring? You watch Sir as he motions closer to you, pulling your body so it's fully back on the bed. You don’t make it easy, making your body dead weight. He snickers at this, flicking your nose once he finishes the task.

“How strange,” Sir says, gripping your neck and observing your features, “I am taking a liking to you. And those words aren’t to be taken lightly.” You keep your face stolid, lips shut, eyes straight forward at your sponsor.  What was ‘a liking’ supposed to be taken as? And, if not lightly, how much weight did those words have? His arms cradle your body, face looking down at you. His eyes had more of that same desire as before, but there was something there. A glint of desire, a glint of…something else? It was hard to make out with how pleasant his disposition was. And it was still on your list to break it from its very core. You decide to keep your mouth shut for now, interested in what else the man would have to say. You let him eye you, for as long as he wanted. He had you for tonight, owned your body and space, and could do whatever he saw fit. 

It’s only for one night.

Sir lets your chin go, pulling you close to him as he wraps his arms around you. You do so in return, feeling his defined  muscles and features. A night with a rich guy like him was becoming more relaxed. The pain of the wax was the worst of it, it seemed. The way Sir got close to you and his breathing relaxed…he was satisfied. And, with some fancy wordsmithing, you wouldn’t be pressed too hard about the bruises amidst other injuries on your body. You were thinking of a grease fire–one really bad that got to your legs and other places on your body. With waitressing your uniform often showed off your legs, and therefore, it would explain enough to the staffers and customers. Maybe they’d even pity you some, tip more. The way you were working this situation into your favor made you feel less anxious for the future. More hopeful–and with any luck, you’d be doing whatever you decided to do at this point. Your mind was so consumed by the positives that the pain in your body felt insignificant in comparison. Your throat had lost that bite of pain even. You eased into Sir’s frame, inhaling his heady cologne. Once you wake up, you will be a debt free woman. One that took some hits, but, still debt free. You feel yourself ease into unconsciousness, hoping that tomorrow’s transition would be seamless.

Chapter Text

You woke up to the man holding you out of your sight. Your eyes scan the nearby room for a check or some proof of debt relief. You stood quick, smoothing out your dress and clearing your throat. Your eyes continued to search the room for something, anything. But it was just as it was left last night. Your heart quickens, wondering if those words he said were the exact opposite. Maybe it was the worst time he actually had, that Sir? You gulp, making your way to the door. The pain in your leg still bothers you, but you find joy in it more than anything. Was this what it meant to be a masochist?  But, before you are able to open the door, a Fatui gunman opens it for you. He greets you with a nod from underneath his top hat, tipping it slightly. 

“Boss’s saying you’re staying another night. Fresh clothes are coming soon. Don’t keep him waiting,” the guard said, pointing his gun toward the bathroom area, “Freshen up. He doesn't wanna to see you like that.” You nod, slow, unsure of your current prospects. Was the rebellion act enough to tip the scales in your favor, or was it the opposite? You weren’t sure, so you did as told. You made your way toward the bathroom area, the door closing with a resounding slam. You wince at the noise briefly before disrobing and showering off the wax and dirt of last night. The pain was still there, but dulled, something you found a shocking amount of disappointment in. Before you had time to question the semantics of your current thought process, you heard the door unlock and close shut again. 

“Is my good girl cleaning up her mess?” Sir said, his voice particularly perky today. You give him a quick shouted yes before you rush to finish, scrubbing off the remaining wax and cleaning the important areas. 

Stepping out of the shower, you see Sir in some different clothing than before. His glasses were still there, but his fur coat had been replaced with more relaxed garments.  His fur coat was replaced by a luxurious button-up Bandhgala matched with dress pants. His hair still framing his face and a new type of cologne permuting his body. You inhale, taking in the sweet scent of glazed lilies. It was more of a feminine scent, but one you enjoyed. You were naked, but showed no signs of nervousness or fear. He did man handle you yesterday, and your nudity seemed to hardly shake his face too. Something about his coldness brought you a nice, warming feeling. It felt familiar, not quite kind but something similar. 

You present your nude body to your sponsor, slowly walking around him like a predator stalking prey. Your eyes stare at his own, his carefree disposition still on his face. You enjoyed showing him his answers rather than telling, and something in you thought it was the right move.

“Ah, all cleaned up I see. The maid will drop off your clean attire shortly. Try not to spill breakfast on it for me?” Sir says, moving to grab your chin. You attempt to pull away but his grip just gets tighter. You show a quick smile before the pain overtakes you, wincing. 

“I find your attitude cute, but your current disposition is less so. Perform proper table manners this morning,” Sir states, his hand starting to choke your neck again. The air escapes quickly, your legs flailing as you are lifted off the ground. What–it was only supposed to be a night–but to undergo another day? You were starting to doubt your own ambitions. The pain, it was burning your throat so good. But you were scheduled to work today. That, with the bruising and other stipulations made the current situation complicated.

“I-I-work,” you choke out with what air you could muster. You watch his face turn to intrigue, hand still lifting you from the ground. You continue to kick your feet carelessly, meeting his own legs a few times. You were close to having what you wanted, but he wasn’t done with his festivities yet. You curse yourself and your bad manners with the Liyue dish. You were paying the price for it, with interest now. 

“Down you go,” Sir whispers to you, dropping you to the floor. You writhe like a fish out of water, inhaling quickly to fight the urge of passing out then and there. You shoot your glare at Sir, which he answers with a hearty chuckle. He turns on his heel, starting to exit the room.

“Be dressed and downstairs in ten minutes,” he says, “Not a minute late or your debt triples.” Your ears perk at debt, body scrambling to stand upright. You use a wall to push yourself upwards. Labored breathing and all, you weren’t letting him leave just yet. He promises to clear your debts but now wants you to stay longer? It was becoming more of a hostage situation.

“I. I need my debt forgiven and to go to work,” you shout. A coughing fit follows, your throat already sore from today and the events of yesterday.  You watch his steps pause for just a moment, his face turning to you. It’s that same, stupid facial expression again! You keep your cool (for now) and wait for his words of wisdom.

“Hmph. You prefer working in that waitressing job more than this, hmm,” Sir asks, tilting his head, “Or are you escaping your duties to me?” You were getting the sense that talking more would lead to less than satisfactory results, simply walking back over to him and bowing. You were promised only one night, but he wanted another one? You could only wonder if it was just the dress he was holding over your head. Or if there was something more? 

You keep your eyes to the flooring, feeling the man pat your head before turning away again. 

“Eight minutes now, my good girl,” Sir says before exiting the room, the maid entering soon after. She drops off lavish clothes for you to wear. You put on the garbs, making a quiet prayer that you don’t make a mess of this outfit. 

The black silk clings to your figure, the spaghetti straps fitting effortlessly over your shoulders. You give yourself a look over in the bathroom mirror before heading downstairs. You catch yourself humming, enjoying the anticipation but loathing the upcoming prospects. Was it possible to love and hate a situation like this? Besides, what could your boss do, fire you? Fatui had you under tight supervision…and you could look for a new job, after your debt had been settled. Was this what they called coping?

As you enter the dining room before, you notice the lack of guards again. Sir sits where he had been before, turning his head. His eyes observe your new outfit, the corners of his mouth bringing into a smile. You bow before heading over to your seat. On your plate lay a traditional omelet. Sans spice, it would be a nice meal to calm your stomach and ease you into whatever the day entailed. You fold your hands in front of you, looking over at Sir for the cue to start eating. 

“Right on time. First breakfast, then we must attend to a few things in town,” Sir states, slicing up his omelet. You watch him slice it, slowly moving toward your own utensils and slicing your own. You wonder how many people would recognize you, gossip, maybe even spread rumors regarding your relationship. It made the thought of going back into work much more complicated. It would make it seem more like you playing hooky than being under the grip of one of the richest men in the country. You bit your lip as you cut at your breakfast, noticing your own reflection in the space on the silver plate. 

You nod to Sir as you take care to eat more cleanly. The taste of the egg was much more pleasant than the spicy dish of yesterday. You take turns eating, glancing over at Sir, and contemplating your next move. It would be too blunt to ask where or why–but without answers–it was hard to think of a plan for anything. You were just at this man’s mercy. And something about that made you feel…special? 

You continue to eat in silence until your plate is cleared, which you then place your silverware on top of. You turn to look at Sir, but he’s already collecting your plates and walking them toward the kitchen. Odd–why didn’t this man have servants at his beck and call? He was insanely rich as is. Or was he one of those penny pinchers that saved every bit of coin they could? You remain seated as you listen to the sounds of rushing water. The sounds of him washing dishes brought a smile to your face. At least this showed he had some sort of life skills on him. You knew not to move without his direct instruction, so you remained seated. You wait until the water clicks off, Sir entering the room again with that same, pleased smile. 

“Stand,” Sir requests, which you obey immediately. You place your hands behind your back, standing up as straight as an arrow. The man’s blue eyes observe you,  walking around your figure. His hands adjust your waists and other limbs as he does so, keeping the air in your lungs to be as still as possible. What was the man up to now? And how exactly did this play into going into town? 

“Posture needs work. Also, that attitude could be tamed some more,” Sir said. You frown, thinking it was appropriate. How much better could you be acting at the moment? You were skipping out on work, listening to each one of his orders, but still somehow you needed to be ‘tamed’? Sir notices your frown, bringing his fingers to your face and forcing a smile onto your face.

“Pity. A frown on your face will not be  suitable when we get into town. Keep your posture nice and face clean. “ Sir demands. The tone was getting stern like before. You nod, though, you already had doubts about this. Why wasn’t he just dropping you off and tending to other duties a rich man like him had? You keep the smile he forces on your face, hands clasped behind your back, and your posture painstakingly proper. This was more than the night, but perhaps, you did owe him for the dress. Worthy of another day of deeds not so much, but it would prove worthwhile if the debt would be for sure wiped at this point. 

You follow Sir as he heads toward the front door, grabbing your fur coat. He places it onto your shoulders, unfolding your hands and guiding them through the holes. You offer no resistance, allowing him to treat you like his doll. He then guides you to put on your boots, one foot at a time. Once you are fully dressed, he puts on his outer wear then turns toward you.

His hand reaches out to grab yours, you accept gladly. As you walk through the open door, an open carriage awaits you. Fatui guards manned the driver's seat with the passenger side being empty. Sir invites you to sit in first, scooting over to allow room for him. You take a moment to scan the carriage you were coaxed into. 

Sleek, black material covered the entirety of the carriage. Dark curtains covered the windows, with only a small partition toward the driver’s side directly ahead of you. You could feel how sturdy the material was underneath your feet. You couldn’t make out if it were stone or wood with how smooth and solid it was. Your eyes turn to Sir, who's looking straight ahead through the partition. You could only see the man’s top hat and blue burly shoulders from what the window showed. 

“Where to, Boss,” a husky voice heralds from ahead. You turn to the man beside you, curious to see where he would lead you all. His face, still unbothered, appears pensive. Sir clicks his tongue before answering, “To town. I’ll give you more details as we get closer.” The grunts nod to each other, snapping the reigns of the horses as you and Sir go onward. You turn to see Sir’s glasses sway with the movement. He stares straight ahead, seeming to avoid eye contact with you. You mirror this, staring straight ahead at the dark partition that separates you from the drivers. This all felt so…odd. It would have been more natural, more stream-lined to just drop you off at work. But this man had a plan and it was driving you a bit mad not knowing what was to happen. Any time you have the gumption to open your mouth, your better judgment stops any words from existing. Your debt was still in the air, after all.

Carriage wheels fill the silence, with the occasional bump or crack in the road causing you to fluster a little. Your mind races with all the different things that could occur. Were you to be  traded off to another wealthy man, no, this guy seemed to take a shine to you. You let the silence fill the carriage, the sounds of the wheels rolling over dirt occupying your mind.

“Your debt is currently being handled as we speak. However, if you choose to be an eyesore today, I will see that you pay us every mora back, with interest,” Sir’s voice whispers into your ear, punctuating his words with an ear nibble. You yelp out, shivering in response. His gloved fingers press against your mouth, his mouth shushing you as the driver stays silent. You whimper soft against those gloves, another pair gripping you by the throat. 

“But first we handle your little mistake. You will model a few replacement dresses. I will pick from the choices, and you will come home with me. As compensation for the dress,” Sir explains. You struggle but manage a nod to show understanding, both gloved hands removing themselves. You exhale sharply, back slumping downward. You struggle but inch your way back to the preferred posture, a slow clap coming from the other side of the carriage. 

“Good girl,” Sir compliments. You glance over to see his winsome grin, eyes scanning over your body. You nod, turning back to staring through the partition. You now understood the gravity of such a mistake. You messed up something of his he enjoyed, and in turn, he was messing with your life for longer than a day. Was the dress worth another day entirely? Or was there going to be something more sinister that occurred? You have so many questions circling in your head, throat gulping, eyes afraid to turn and see that same smile with gloved fingers along her body again. You had to be a good girl for him, after all. Good girls get their debt forgiven.

•          -              -

You had never felt rich in your life, until today. You tried on so many different dresses with a variety of different styles. Some weren’t even from countries you knew existed like Natlan. Sir made sure the wares were well explained too. He would ask for the historical significance of the styles, color theory, among other details with each dress. The day passed on so quickly, you were in awe when you walked out of the building with a darkened sky above you. 

The remainder of the errands had you in the carriage the remainder of the trip, the guard staying quiet whenever Sir left to go elsewhere. Whenever you felt like you were heading home, the carriage would careen to a new, different part of the country you never knew existed. Fancy houses, business establishments, and other venues were briefly shown whenever Sir opened the carriage door on his side. There weren’t enough familiar landmarks for you to gauge how close/far you were from home. All you could do was hope he had plans on returning you at some point, or, at least letting you live. 

When the guard dropped you back off at the mansion, Sir leaned over to the driver's seat to whisper some words, which the guard simply answered with a nod and a series of numbers. Only having read some mystery novels from Inazuma, you figure out they were coordinates of some sort. Or maybe, if you were really unlucky, a number to a safe with much more dangerous toys for today.

You stand by the carriage’s side, hands behind your back, posture painstakingly proper. Once the carriage drives off, Sir turns to you with a smile, extending his hand. You accept it immediately, allowing the man to guide you back into the mansion. You are greeted with the aroma of various seafoods, all lined up on the table. The scent makes your saliva thick, gulping loud enough for Sir to hear.

“Hungry, are we?” Sir asks, to which you nod repeatedly. He chuckles, letting your hand go as he walks toward the dining room table. You follow, taking a seat where you did yesterday. Today, Sir decides to sit closer, picking the seat right besides you. You jump at this, but a gloved hand gently pats at your hands.

“I’ll personally be here to ensure you don’t get anything on that dress. Otherwise, well, you’ll make me push back my plans again,” Sir says, laughing as he begins to pull from the seafood buffet. He grabs a variety of different things, pulling them onto the plate in front of him. You motion toward your utensils. But, as you are about to pick up a fork, Sir slaps it out of your hand with his gloved hand.

“I’ll also be serving you today, as well,” Sir adds, shaking his head, “So don’t get any ideas.” You nod, gulping once more as you stare into your own lap. You were dragged all across this place and likely seen by many people, even if only for a few moments. You were struggling to think of a good excuse for why you couldn’t show. Sudden blind date by parents, wedding dress shopping with her sister, or perhaps the most honest one which was accompanying an older man to help him find gifts for his actual girlfriend? All felt half baked but it was the best your growling belly could think of.

You begin to hear different foods descend onto your plate, your eyes moving to see what Sir has decided to give you. You exchange glances with Sir’s own plate, noticing it’s much the same. You keep your hands on your lap, watching, hungry at all the food he keeps piling onto the plate. 

“Today was my collection date for a variety of businesses in the area. If I feel they aren’t being honest, I show up to give them a personal contact to refer to,” Sir explains, finishing serving your food. You observe there’s plenty to eat for dinner and most of the items weren’t in sauce, lessening your chances of ruining another dress. You silently cheer at this, turning to Sir for permission to start eating.  You show you’re listening by nodding at his words, making eye contact. Clicking his tongue, he motions his utensils back to his own plate, starting to cut up his meal.

“Some like to doubt my abilities of being…stern. And they are proven otherwise. You see, money is quite the interesting commodity. It means nothing on its own, fiat, but. As you know it can make or break human existence,” Sir explains, humming as he cuts the variety of squid and larger fish pieces presented on his plate. You continue to hold off, knowing full and well not to test him. Sir was serving you and nice enough to feed you after all of this. Surely after tonight you would go home and likely plan out a future of yours much brighter than it looked before. You continue to nod, assuming this was leading to some sort of lesson or gleam of knowledge he was looking to bestow onto you.

“A great amount of our survival depends on selling or buying the idea that some things have no inherent value. And, with that said, it pays well to give value to every aspect of our lives. Tell me, does your life have value, now,” Sir asked, turning to start cutting your own food. You gulp, unsure of how to answer such a question. You were risking your life staying with the man for almost two days, knowing his prestige and how easy it would be to kill you. You valued it enough to take loan after loan to fix your illness. And, perhaps in some way, you valued it enough to find value in the pain Sir enjoyed inflicting onto you. 

“I. I do have a certain value but it’s on a sliding scale,” you say, keeping your voice low, head down, and eyes to the hands laying in your lap. You listen as Sir cuts your food, staying quiet. You wonder if the answer is enough to feed his curiosity. You also wonder if the real answer was supposed to be just a yes or a no. 

The sound of the knife and fork cutting your food fills the room. Sir remains silent, your eyes refusing to move up in fear of what you may see. Would he be grinning at what you said–or would it be a frown, did those words just disappoint your sponsor? You felt yourself dizzied at all the different things that could occur, fingers folding into the gaps on the other hand. That is, until you feel a gloved hand tug at your chin, forcing you to stare up.

Your eyes connect with blue ones, the face in front of you not quite happy but…curious? It was hard to gauge the man’s emotion, but the winsome smile had fallen into a neutral expression.You feel the fabric of the gloves slide up to your cheeks, squeezing them tight before  resting against your neck again. You keep yourself as still as you can, examining Sir as much as your eyes could allow. You finally achieved his facial expression changed, but what would be the cost of such a daring move?

“How curious. Let us eat then discuss. You interest me more each day, it appears,” Sir says, dropping his grip as he grabs his cutlery and begins to eat. You follow suit, careful to eat any and all sauced foods. You move your face close to the plate, to avoid any and all chances of the sauce dripping on your current dress. This works well, though, you can hear Sir chuckling besides you.

“Posture still needs work, but I like it as a private view. Like a puppy learning how to behave. Or. A kitten trying to lap up every last bit of milk,” Sir states between bites, chuckling heartily as you blush deeply. It was embarrassing but not as costly as your mistake yesterday. You finish your food quickly, wiping your face with a nearby napkin. You turn to Sir, placing your hands on your lap. You weren’t sure what else to expect at this point. You fulfilled your end of the contract, again, and were hopeful to return home. You had to be expensive to house here, after all. You watch Sir finish his meal, placing his utensils on the now empty plate. He faces you with a neutral expression. You look back at him, trying to remain neutral as well. But your body shivers out of pure anticipation of pain or some stimuli Sir may try surprising you with. He laughs as his eyes scans your shaking body, taking the now empty plates toward the kitchen. 

Sounds of rushing water and cleaning dishes come from the kitchen. You remain still, unsure of how the rest of the day will play out. While the rational part of you hoped to be home soon, another side of you wants this dragged out further. What if you could stay here for weeks, months…years even? Many of your expenses would be covered with debt settled–you wouldn’t even need to work at that point. But would it be worth it? Those gossiping old folks would make the bold assumptions you eloped or worse. You wouldn’t be hired in the future on the off chance Sir decided to part ways suddenly. As you continue to weigh the options, you feel your body lift from the chair.

“AH!” you scream, but try to calm yourself as you recognize the gloved hands lift you easily above his  head. You remain steady, breathing uneven with your brain caught off guard. You hated this feeling but admitted it was a fun rush of adrenaline. You knew this wasn’t a healthy response on a  basic level, but you had to find good in such a precarious situation. 

You are held up as Sir carries you through the mansion, up the stairs, and back to the room you were in before. Your eyes widen as you see a number of tools laid out on a table. Needles, ice cubes, camps, clips, stones, and a few other items you couldn’t tell what they were. Your heartbeat kicks up at the sight. You were this mixture of excited and afraid–determined to get through another night to see your debt repaid. And you could learn a thing or two about yourself here, about how these items were making you feel giddy, alive, awakened. Sir remains quiet as he places you onto the bed, gently. You allow your body to sink into the silky fabrics, closing your eyes. Whatever Sir had planned for today appeared to be more intense than yesterday. And you were ready for whatever that meant for you in the meantime.

“Open your eyes,” Sir demands, and you obey without a second’s thought. Your eyes open to him with a clamp inches from your face. Your body struggles to stay still, lips trembling with anticipation. Sir laughs as this, the clamp moving downward. You hear a chain connected to it too, the metallic loops attached to another clamp dangling near. You could feel your heart racing, wondering where Sir will decide to clip the clamps to.  Another gloved hand moves to slowly remove your spaghetti strapped dress, lips coming to kiss your skin as it becomes exposed. You exhale softly at the kisses, finding yourself hungry for the pain, for whatever Sir decided to put you through. You can feel his laughter dance on your skin, Sir’s lips gracefully skipping across your skin. The touches Sir were making felt more gentle, with a certain softness to it all. He was much rougher yesterday, or perhaps, this was just warming you up for the pain to come?

Soon the dress you wore was completely pulled off, your skin bare for Sir’s eyes to wander wherever they pleased. You remain still, allowing your body to be his eye candy for as long as he wished. But…you wanted more. You wanted Sir to lay down all the pain he had, bring you through hell and back, hurt you, inflict pain–anything but this faux lovey dovey act he was putting on. You keep your eyes open as instructed, seeing nothing but the blue hair of the SIr. His lips continue to take in your flesh in small portions, his lips kissing your mid section, arms, hands, just about everywhere. It felt too loving for your mood right now. He was treating you like a sack of potatoes yesterday and now acting all loving now? The man was truly erratic with how he chose to use his toy. You keep your eyes forward, watching the hair shift around as he moves to another part of your body to kiss and inspect. After several minutes of this, you finally feel a bit of pain. A soft ‘click’ is barely audible, rosing a soft groan from your lips. You arch your back some, feeling a clamp securely snap itself around one of your nipples. You could feel the pressure building there, the blood forcing itself out, the pain being your main focus. You try not to smile but fail, a wryly grin appearing on your face. Sir hums at this, another clicking sound resounding through the room. Your other nipple is then clamped into place, your body feeling the pain growing there too. You let out another groan, your fingers gripping the silk comforter beneath you. Sir laughs at this, gripping your chin to force  your face to look down to him. Your eyes focus on his face, his expression showing that same smile as before. But, his eyes, those cold blue eyes…felt warmer than before. More open, as if the sounds of your pain brought warmth to this cold and calculating person. You let out another groan, unable to help it since the pain felt consistent and stinging. The blood felt forced away, causing the pressure to build in both of your nipples. You cry out, softly, so as to not upset the Sir.

Sir cackles at this reaction, using the metallic chains to gently tug at the clamps. You arch your back further, the tug causing the stinging sensation to grow. You groan out, hands gripping the comforter beneath you tighter. Sir continues to laugh, the metallic chains being pulled further back. 

“A-A” you cry out louder, trying to keep yourself grounded to the bed. You were desperately trying to be a good girl for him, not moving as much, allowing the pain to dig deeper into your nipples for his entertainment. And with how the pain was digging through your entire body, it was reacting in quite the interesting way. Despite being in searing pain, you could feel your nipples become hard as rocks. You struggle to keep sound in you, cheeks puffed up, eyes  looking directly at Sir. His laughing made his face look so much brighter, his cheeks full of joy, eyes full of the warmth you had been missing since you stepped foot into the mansion. Something about that sight made you want to impress him more, be a submissive girl to whatever treacherous pain he had in store for you.

You hear the metallic chain drop to your belly, another gloved hand joining the other around your neck. A knee separates your legs below, his entire body weight coming down onto your body. This causes friction between the chain and all the elements surrounding it, causing a choked out moan to exit your mouth. This feeling of pain, the lack of air, the tension between your nipples and the clamp–it was all building up inside of you. It was growing to be more pleasure by each passing second, the groans exiting your mouth pained but pleased. The pain was something you were starting to find a taste for, hungering for it more with each move Sir made. Each tug of the chain made you want more, desiring to please Sir. 

Sir lifts himself up from your body, taking a seat beside you.  He keeps a hand tight along your chin, forcing you to sit up with him. Sir’s  cold blue eyes scan over your body, focusing on your puffy, red nipples. You exhale sharply, shivering a bit from all the adrenaline that was racing through your veins. You wonder what Sir has planned for you next as you watch a gloved hand reach over to the table once again. Your muscles tense up, unsure of what type of pain would be released onto your body. Your eyes stay focused as the main moves a few different objects, picking up a large ice cube with a pair of tongs. You smile at this, at Sir, and await your fate. He laughs at your face, squeezing it tighter within his grasp. You stay still, Sir finding your lack of response laughable. His laughter erupts again, placing the ice cube directly above one of your nipples. You yelp out at the cool sensation mixing with the pain, screaming out in agony. You struggle not to move your body away, wanting to show Sir you could handle his pain, his sadistic desire to watch you writhe. You continue to cry out, his laughter not stopping for a moment. He leans in closer with his face, his nose centimeters away from your own. The ice stays where it was before, still stinging at your puffed up nipple. The pain was starting to feel worse, but not quite meeting the pain of the wax from yesterday. Something in you wants more, hungers for that pain, lusts for it. As an attempt of defiance, you stick out your tongue, hoping to receive some more pain in response. Sir simply chuckles at this act, extending his tongue in return. He brings you into quite the french kiss, seeming to have passion within the kiss. While you were busy trying to gauge the meaning behind the kiss, you felt a searing pain in your other nipple. Instead of having his other gloved hand around your chin, it was now pressing a hot stone along your other nipple. The heat felt nearly unbearable, forcing your arched back downard as you squirmed from the feeling. You scream out in pain into Sir’s mouth, his teeth biting down at your tongue.

“Mmm!” you yelp out into his mouth, starting to feel blood rise from the bite on your tongue. Tears begin to weld in your eyes, the varying amounts of pain starting to overwhelm your body. The heat, the cold, and the pressure of the clamps were starting to add up. You gulp as you are unable to move your tongue too, the sound of your yells and screams muted by a single kiss. That pain you were craving was being delivered in doves, and you were at the point of questioning if the desire was worth the immense amount of pain you were feeling. You choke out another pained cry, your tongue being released with a soft chuckle along your lips. Sir breaks the kiss, seeming pleased by how you cried out in pain immediately after. Your body writhes in pain, struggling to remain still against Sir’s desired objects of torture. While one nipple felt numbingly cold, the other felt like the skin was burning. The difference in temperature caused you to continue groaning out in pain. But there was something even you could hardly understand. Why were your nipples still hard, even after all of this? The cold one made some sense, but the hot one shouldn’t be hard. You start to wonder about your own kinky preferences when both items are removed, clattering onto the table beside the bed. You exhale sharply at the feeling, your nipples feeling raw. With just a single prod by a gloved finger, you wince in pain, groaning out loudly. Sir laughs at this, moving so you are staring directly up at him. Teary eyed with aching pain in your breasts, you stare up at him. It’s impossible to hide your pain, but you try to keep still. Sir delights in your attempts, gently tugging here and there at your nipples. You wince at each pull, exhaling out loud groans at each touch. The slow touches come to a stop, his eyes scanning over your face. You remain as still as you can manage, body shaking from the lingering pain that resided in your body. Sir grins at this, leaning in and inhaling. You remain as still as you can, shaking with every ounce of fear, lust, and excitement that grows in your body.

“Such a permeating scent, your reactions,” Sir whispers to you, “Such a delicacy.” You shiver still, gulping awkwardly and shuffling about. Sir wraps his arms around you, pressing his body into yours. This tugs at the metallic chains attached to your clips, your mouth letting out a loud scream. The tugging makes your raw nipples feel even less comfortable. You start to wonder if it’s possible for them to tear off, the hug causing more pain than any form of comfort Sir could deliver. Your hands struggle, shivering immensely, before tightly wrapping themselves around Sir’s waist. This had to be what he wanted, right? You try to guide yourself to do things Sir would prefer, finding staying still playing it too safe. You groan aloud, getting louder knowing there were no other people for miles. The carriage ride proved this location was chosen for this purpose and possibly some unknown ones you couldn’t figure out yet.

Sir gradually pulls away from you, your arms peeling away as you breathing becomes labored, your puffy nipples becoming more numb as the clips cling onto them. You look upward toward Sir, unsure of what else to expect. His pleased expression is hard to read, his eyes continuing to scan over your body as he clicks his tongue. 

“Let’s chat more about your sliding scale effect. What do you say to an exclusive contract? You needn’t work that tiresome job anymore, and you're already truant as is,” Sir asked, leaning in close to gauge your reaction. Your eyes widen at the thought, unsure of what the contract entailed. More treatment like this would be interesting. On top of that, you wouldn’t need to worry much about where or how to work after this. The offer itself was appealing but you knew there had to be a catch of some sort. Shrewd businessmen are always keen to slip in a condition or several to their own benefit when it comes to contracts. You stare back at the man, gulping. You couldn’t say no to a man with so much power, so much notoriety. But you could try to haggle, right?

“Depends on the terms, and well. Pay needs to be discussed as well,” you say, trying to put on your best business face. It was difficult to manage with you being stark naked with nipple clamps biting at the flesh. The man clicks his tongue once more, nodding thoughtfully. He lowers a hand to wrap a finger around the metal chains of your clamps. You instinctively bite your lip, inhaling sharply. Sir wasn’t going to play fair during this negotiation, was he?

“Huh. What wise words coming from a girl in your position,” Sir said, tugging at the chain as you let out several groans, your hands clutching at your belly. Your body writhes as you attempt to stay still, eyes still staring at the others with tears coming out once more. Sir chuckles at this, leering away as he drops the chain back to your chest. You exhale again, trying to steady your labored breathing. You continue to stare, trying to show your reactions as a selling point to be taken seriously. You craved that job, but letting him know would devalue the position. You had to play this to your advantage, with a certain coyness. Sir continues to glance over your features, now giving a firm grip from your shoulders, sides, legs, amid other areas. Much like how a supplier for a butcher was testing their stock, Sir was examining your physical worth too. Now was not the time to play weak, but as strong as you could.

“You must know that, with this contract, you will not be exempt from hard work. However, you will be exempt from worrying about money, living expenses, and most other trivial things that used to crowd your mind. It’s not as much about the pay, but rather, a change in your life as you experience it,” Sir explains, raising up from your body to pull a couple needles from the table. You wiggle at the sight, not sure where your benefactor was going with his words.

Sir examines your body, his eyes scanning your body with precision that was missing moments ago. He smiles, tapping the side of the small needles against his fingertips. His eyes eye your body then back to the needles, mumbling something about The Doctor knowing the best places. Placing the needles back on the table, he sits besides you, humming a soft melody. You cock your head at this, confused. You were prepared for the needle work, wherever Sir decided to pierce. But to stop all of a sudden? It was odd to observe. And from what Sir mentioned earlier, it was eating at your curiosity, you needed to learn more about this. Did Sir require assistance from this Doctor person to continue the needle portion of the events?

“What kind of hard work?” you ask. Your eyes follow Sir, watching a smile grow on his face. He crosses his legs, clearing his throat as his eyes stare back at you.

“Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. Let’s just say more of the same. But with some constituents of mine along the way. You won’t have a home, you’ll be traveling consistently, and you will be required to put on your own weight with Fatui's efforts. Your posture betrays you, but I learned of your hard work waitressing when researching you. Our grunts typically do that work, but there are times they make spills and messes of our group meals. I think you’d be a great fit for setting up our organized meals, serving them, and perhaps making your way to picking our meals.” Sir explains, but you begin to zone out at the mention of the organization name. The Fatui were notorious, but, to control the banking system here in Snezhnaya? Their tight grip was made clearer to you, gulping harshly at the words. You feel compelled to say yes at this point, unsure if responding otherwise was even an option. What made this man adore you so much–your ability to withstand pain and enjoy it to a degree? Your mind races, unsure of how to respond. Your eyes continue to blankly stare at Sir, his expression unchanging as he awaits your reply. Something about drumming up that name gave you much less confidence. You spoke big and he returned it in doves, tying in one of the biggest criminal organizations you knew to date. And it was up to you to either accept the offer, or suffer the consequences of declining. 

You continue to stare back at him, understanding now that the guards from earlier weren’t simply hired or a loan–they were all of the same. You further realize that the house itself was remote so there would be little hope for, when declining, going home without having to constantly look over your shoulder for the future. You weigh your waitressing experience, noting you did have a certain passion for food and food service. But to bring it to such a high level as to serve the most infamous organization you heard of? This was a difficult situation indeed. After thinking a minute more, you motion your head closer to Sir, gulping.

“I agree to these terms, but on a condition. What’s your true name, SIr?” you ask, wanting to learn more about your future employers before diving into any sort of full commitment. Sir laughs, shaking his head as he begins to lie beside you. You tense your muscles, expecting him to tug at your clamps or inflict more pain somehow.

“I like you. So, to provide your conditioned information, my current name is Pantalone,” Pantalone said, sliding down his glasses, “But do continue calling me Sir at this point.” You nod at this, at least knowing a name to stick to his face now. It sounded a bit silly in a way–but you figured it was a code name rather than his actual one. And, if that were his actual name, it made sense why he joined the Fatui.

“Understood, Sir. Then I will accept this contract. Will you be sending official documents, or, is that another thing–” you start to say, but are cut off by lips colliding into your own. You kiss the man back, groaning softly as his tongue seems to slap at the bite wound left from earlier. You focus your energy on giving a passionate kiss in return, wondering if this was how he chose to seal the deal. As Sir pulls back from said kiss, he grins ear to ear. It was an expression you had never seen before, so you took it in slowly. You remain quiet, knowing Sir will talk when he feels ready to. There’s minutes of silence exchanged in the room. Just Sir’s shimmering grin and your eyes scanning over his body, uncertain, nervous, and strangely excited. You hit the realization that you may never see your home again nor any of your co-workers. The grinning man and all of his partners would soon be your new neighbors, your new home, your new life.

“You should know this is the first time I’ve made this offer. And that this is not to be taken lightly. I will make sure your current dwelling is emptied and any rent or other expenses are paid. A letter will be drafted to express to your landowner that you will be discontinuing your lease as of today. There are other loose ends of course, but with time they will be dealt with accordingly. My dear, welcome to the Fatui,” Sir announces, his smile never wavering. You begin to wonder if this was his intent from the start, but disregard the thought. It would be fruitless to overthink his intentions and better to think of what will come next. You feel the bed shift, Sir moving up and removing the clamps from your nipples. You groan out in pain, gripping the comforter briefly as the pinchers are removed. You exhale sharply, over and over, feeling happy, nervous, renewed. You had a new life ahead of you, one devoid of debt collectors and poverty. But where the road leads ahead leaves you wondering if it will be worthwhile to do this. You nod at Sir’s words belatedly, your brain already trying to wrap itself around the multitude of changes you had to accept.

“And one more thing.” Sir said, lifting you up and placing you on his lap, “If you ever leave, the consequences of such an action will result in your painful death. Understood?”  You nod quickly, gulping and looking down toward your own lap. This was not how you expected your one night turned two night adventure to end. Your thoughts of what to do after this exchange were now changing to how to become the perfect mold for the man you were sitting on at the moment. The wrong moves could lead to your expulsion, and then, untimely death. You begin to wonder who else SIr is in contact with and how deeply the organization will change your current lifestyle.

You feel the man’s gloved hands squeeze at your body once more, lips kissing all over your body. It was much gentler than what you experienced earlier, almost intimate. You remain motionless, focused on what your new life will likely entail. His touch fills you with a sense of excitement, grateful he was enamored by you enough to keep you on. But, there was one thing that was still bothering you. The woman who helped dress her swore things would be only for a night. And, from what Sir mentioned earlier, this was his first time striking such a deal. You were still wondering what happened to the other girls he invited here and did their single night.

“Ah, Sir. I have a question,” you say, letting out soft moans in between your words. Those kisses felt so tender, soft, loving. You had never been taken care of so sweetly before, which made you feel more lustful than before.

“Ask your question,” Sir responds between kisses, returning to your neck to plant a long, satisfying hickey along it. You let out another, longer moan in reply, legs shivering at such pleasure. It felt like a nice contrast to how rough and wild Sir had been earlier and the night before.

“What happens to us–uh, girls. Typically the day after Valentine's day. I just got curious and wanted to ask,” you moan out, squirming as the hickey begins to form itself along your neck. Sir doesn’t answer for several minutes, seeming to want his creation to last a long while. You start to squeeze your legs together, feeling yourself being turned on by such sweet and gentle touches. Sir’s lips leave your neck with a resounding wet sound, the grin from earlier reappearing on his face.

“I drop them off back to their lives, usually. If any rumors or bad mouthing comes up, they’re dealt with as the threats they’d become. Most times, however, they are pleased with their new lives. I am a man of my word, a businessman,” Sir replies. You nod, wondering if you did have a choice to return home. You shake your head a bit at the thought, trying to refuse letting yourself simmer in the ‘what ifs’ or ‘how come’s’. Your life was simply how it was now and there was no changing it. You were the newest help staff at the Fatui, with some serious under the table benefits. Whatever happened next, you were prepared for. Hell, you were even slightly excited and curious to see how far this lust for pain would carry you.

Chapter Text

You heard rumors as they were whispered between Fatui grunts. No one was sure exactly who you were. None dared speak down to you, in fear of offending a superior. And, without knowledge of how to address you, they simply avoided engaging in conversation with you. You grew content with this situation but were growing more nervous each passing day. You knew Sir had some seniority in the organization, as many grunts bowed and treated him with high regard. But where would you end up? You weren’t quite a grunt, but there was no fighting experience you could offer to the Fatui. 

All of your clothing had to be thrown out of your old place. To replace it, Sir offered a variety of shopping trips here and to the countries you would frequent. The first trip would be a return to the same shop you visited on your 2nd day with Sir, picking out a variety of clothes. You began to wonder if your neighbors would write you off as dead or worse. But, to help shake off the negative thoughts, you turn to Sir. There was no use worrying over your old life after all. Sir offered you a better one. His blue eyes stared pensive at your current dress, as if calculating its fitness on you. You twirled in the dress a bit, allowing Sir to see how well the dress fits your curves.

“So?” you ask, tilting your head. You lift part of the dress to reveal your thighs, showing it off with a slight shake. You giggle, looking over his features to gauge a change in expression. His expression is unchanged, eyes scanning over your features with your dress.

“That one is acceptable. We depart soon for our next destination,” Sir states, turning on his heel as he waves over customer service personnel. Beside you lay several other dresses he had approved of prior, one being very different from the rest. The tight latex dress provided ample support to your breasts and curves, accentuating them with how constrictive the material was.  It exposed your arms and legs, leaving little to the imagination. Sir’s eyes sparked at this discovery, simply directing you to place the dress in the bag with the other purchases. You weren’t sure where would be the best to wear such a dress, but you figured Sir would instruct you to do so when ready. 

Upon exiting the building, no vehicle was outside. The night sky stretched endlessly. You looked over toward Sir, who had that same, boring expression. There was something about his languid disposition you found distasteful. There was a nagging feeling in your head too. You usually had some form of transport when you left venues. What made today different from all days? You continue to wait, wondering if Sir would bring up the predicament. Seconds turn to minutes, and your curiosity is getting the best of you.

Just as you were going to ask about transportation, Sir wraps his arms securely around you. You can feel his gloved hands wrapped securely along your waist. You grip onto your newly purchased bags of clothes tightly, uncertain to where this will lead.

“Close your eyes” Sir demands, his tone harsh. You nod and close your eyes tight. You wonder if this technique was something special that only Fatui higher ranks could do. Would it make them travel fast? Could the man somehow fly across the sky? Or was this just some trick? Inhaling sharply, you could only hold your eyes tightly shut. You do not feel a massive change in temperature, no movement, nothing of significance stands out to you. You just stew in your confusion, your worry, your anticipation. 

“Open your eyes, and prepare your latex outfit. Someone has been ecstatic about your arrival,” Sir whispers into your ear. Your eyes slowly open to a dimly lit laboratory. A single whiff brought on a very strong metallic, sterile smell. You could mistake this place for a hospital, if it weren’t for what you saw to the right.

Your eyes flinch at the sight of a multitude of weapons hung along the wall. The sheer amount of weaponry made you feel nervous. Surely he wouldn’t go through all the trouble of buying you new garments to kill you…right? You gulp, nodding to Sir as you await for him to exit. But no–he’s still here? Sir raises an eyebrow, noting your lack of obedience. 

“Well?” Sir asked, his eyes staring right into yours. You inhale sharply once more, nodding repeatedly before digging through your bag of clothing to locate the latex outfit. You pull that out along with the lube that was provided with the purchase of the outfit. You had never worn such an expensive, complicated garment. The most you knew was that it was supposed to be skin tight and generally uncomfortable. You strip off your current garbs, tossing them to the side until you are stark naked. You turn to see Sir still there, observing your movements, keeping a keen eye on your figure. This felt a bit odd, every other time you were ordered to change or get ready–you were left alone. But today he insisted on watching the full process. 

You recall the store manager's instructions of wiping down your body with the lubricant to make the outfit easier to slip on. There were other notes the personnel advised on, but you were too busy feeling incredibly embarrassed to recall the full list of benefits. Your thoughts began to be consumed by the sheer amount of possibilities of the room you were entrapped in. Was Sir going to ramp up his torture so quickly, so suddenly? You bite your lip at the thought, finishing up the lubing process.

“Good girl, excited are we?” Sir asked, a chuckle following as he intently watched you rub your entire body down with the lubricant. You struggled to keep eye contact with him, your own eyes  running toward your own body to evenly and generously apply the liquid. And, those words, those sickeningly sweet words. He dared use them to cause such a bright blush to rise along your cheeks, hands gently preparing the latex suit for wear. 

Each step felt painstakingly long. Even with the liquid coating your entire body, the suit still felt almost too tight. It clung to your skin with a certain sting, the last portion of latex coming on with a highly audible snap . You groan out at the feeling, tightly holding your thighs together. Your blush does not fade here, face looking down toward the ground. The flooring had been a shiny metallic to match the rest of the room, your face showing in the metal. Would you be able to discern who you were this next session? Would they aim for your face or other sections of your body they could cover? And, who exactly were you about to meet? You bit your lip more in anticipation, feeling gloved hands grip your face up from the floor to meet Sir’s gaze. Your stare right back. Those cold blue eyes showed no sign of aggression, his body so adept at concealing any and all emotion.

“What a fine specimen you are,” Sir whispers along your ear, dragging those lips of his across your cheek. You exhale, that blush refusing to leave at such insufferably sweet words. You were standing up straight in such a constricting outfit now, Sir’s body directly across from your own. You kept your eyes to him. You recall how much he enjoys looking at you, watching your reactions to the pain, your face, your eyes, your everything. You were simply his toy while his gloves gripped at any part of you. And you surely knew how to play the part well.

You remained silent. You also recalled how well Sir responded to your quiet nature in times like this. His blue eyes hungrily glanced over your features, his gloved hand moving your head around with ease.

Now he tilted  your head fully upward, facing the bright lights above. You close your eyes to save your eyesight some, his gloved hands moving your face in every possible direction. This went on for what felt like many long minutes. You were beginning to wonder when this other would show up. Would it be The Doctor, that fellow Sir whispered about some weeks ago? 

“Keep those eyes closed. Follow my guidance,” Sir said. You followed without question. Gloved hands continue to tug at you from the arms, pulling you over to what felt like a table. Sir eases you up onto it, facing up toward the light. You were lying down now, the latex feeling cooler along the table. Even with the lights still beaming down onto you, the table itself felt cold. You feel around the area with your fingers. There was nothing near you outside of the table. Feeling the cold, sharp edges made you feel a certain danger. A danger you were certain would be entertaining for Sir. You follow orders to keep your eyes shut, footsteps leaving your side. The sound of a metallic door would shut abruptly, seeming to leave you alone in said room.

It was now you took stock of your situation. Sir managed to whisk you away to some unknown location in a matter of seconds. On top of that, you were sealed in a room with a variety of weapons made entirely of some sort of metal. Lastly, was the temperature getting colder? You start to shiver at the sensation. The coolness you initially felt on your back starts to spread to your belly and other sections of your body. You swear you feel fog leave your mouth with every exhale, lips starting to shiver more with every passing minute. You wonder what this was leading up to, biting your lip even more so. You were going to burst from excitement, from terror, from the unknown. All you could wish for was more of that pain Sir knew how to give you quite well. And who knew of how adept his colleague would be at it too? 

After several minutes, you hear the door opening with a creak. You smile at the sound, bite marks visible where your teeth had been. You wanted to show Sir that you were ready, that you were  unafraid–that this would prove to be exhilarating. You keep your ears open, listening to hear if there were multiple pairs of feet or not. It excites you as you hear more than one pair, though you were uncertain how many people were entering the metal room.

“Now, I see you’ve already started with some of the preparations. Nicely done. And you claim the girl’s pain tolerance is unusually high? We will need to run some experiments to test this theory of yours,” a male voice spoke, laughing afterward. His steps must have been the heavier ones, stalking around your still body. You wanted to open your eyes badly, but that would disobey Sir’s orders.  You decide to keep them closed for now.

“I have run several of my own little timed tests with her. Just–don’t break her too early. That wouldn’t be fun for either of us. I figure having someone like her on board would keep things interesting,” Sir said, “Or at least for however long she lasts.” You smirk at the latter comment, shrugging. 

“I’ll last as long as you want me to, Sir,” you say, keeping the grin on your face. The other voices continued to cackle. You feel a new set of gloved hands on you. These felt less muscular, skinnier, but with a precision unknown from Sir’s hands. He seemed to know exactly where to touch you to get you to groan, twitch, shiver, jerk, and twist. Every new place his fingers glided to applied a pain you were unaware existed. You hiss involuntarily at the man, legs kicking upward. How did he know just how to rile you up? You weren’t even aware that some of the pressure points he pressed hurt you so deeply.

“Ah, putting up a fight, my love?” the man asked, fingers moving from your wrist to your neck with a massive amount of pressure. You try to sass him, but the sass is stuck in your throat. You can’t even get a wheeze out with how strong of a hold he had. You kick your legs up more, but hear footsteps approaching. Sir’s familiar grip grabs at your legs, preventing you from kicking anymore. You feel yourself struggle even more. No sight, no strength, completely at the disposal of the men above you. Something about this excites you, no noise able to leave your throat to signal the other two. The hands around your throat soften as you feel yourself slip in and out of consciousness, a piece of cloth hanging over your eyes. 

“Mmrmmph,” you groan out, unable to move or much less say a cohesive word. The two men laugh at this, a hand from each of them stroking your latex-covered shoulders. You open your eyes to see your sight covered by a dark red fabric, light shining through it. You huff at this, deciding to give more attitude as you move to kick one of the men surrounding you. A hand grips at your leg, sliding down to your ass as it gets a powerful slap. You groan at this, continuing to kick wildly in hopes of more ass slaps. If they would reward you for being naughty, why be obedient? 

You feel several slaps hit your face with plenty of chuckles heard around, your groans and moans very audible. You wanted more pain, not whatever this was. It was a drop in the bucket to what you knew Sir was capable of. And, knowing Sir’s mannerisms, he wouldn’t simply oblige with a verbal request. You had to get creative, and that’s what got you hired on initially. 

“Doctor, be a dear and fetch the needles,” Sir requests, one set of feet walking off to another corner of the room. You try to peek out of the fabric, but it covers your eyes fully. You disliked it. You rather see them directly hurt you than deal with such boring pleasantries such as sounds and voices. You knew very well that the job would involve pain, extortion, and to some extent making food. They were just…making it more boring this way. You keep still however, unsure of what sort of situation the needles would lead to. You remain quiet, waiting for those footsteps to return. You feel the temperature lower more, the hairs on your skin rising. You exhale, swearing to feel your own breath turn into that cold fog.

“Wanting to act tough now, hmm? How curious,” Sir says, a blade starting to rub against the latex outfit you wore. You could feel your nipples harden at such a sensation, inhaling sharply as you were curious. Curious to where this blade would go, how deep it would cut—would it leave a mark? You start to want the mark more than anything, wanting more of that deep pain you felt just weeks ago.

“Mark me,” you demand, “Perhaps then I’ll behave.” You hope it would be sufficient to start more of the pain, but there's silence that follows. Heavy footsteps begin to approach you, stopping just to the left of you. The blade continues to travel across your body, touching but not piercing the latex that clung close to your body. You could feel your nipples clash close against the rubbery material, not quite as abrasive as you hoped for. 

“Say please,” Sir requests, his blade stopping short of your breasts. You roll your eyes underneath the red fabric, letting out a huff. You want to keep pressing this idea of being disobedient, more and more insurgent with your actions. You try to raise your leg to give them a kick, but feel the cool metal slice open your inner thigh. A pleased groan exits your lips, your nipples somehow getting harder than they were. A curious ‘humm’ comes from both of their lips, the blade moving away from the fresh wound. It stung, but the cold seemed to dull the sensation quite a bit. There felt to be something else too–a liquid or some sort of chemical agent? You couldn’t figure it out just on your remaining senses. You try to move your leg, but that’s when you realize something. You try to move your arm now to confirm. Nothing moved. The other arm attempts to move, too, but no movement comes. You are able to move your lips however, realizing you may have been numbed from your neck downward. 

“Please?” you ask, though you figured the blade was already done marking you. Oh, how wrong you were. Sir moves back downard with the blade, making a similar slice on the other leg, dragging the blade deep into your flesh. You let out a loud cry in pain, in pleasure, in harmony. This is what you were waiting for. 

“Please, m-more Sir, please,” you beg, beginning to salivate heavily. The pain felt delicious, like some form of rare delicacy. The knife work continued, but this time, slicing directly into some of the latex you had on. Quick, calculated strokes were made right where your breasts were. The latex was being cut open, exposing your hardened nipples and plump breasts. You exhale at such a feeling, the cold making direct contact with them now.

Then there was a new pain introduced, a new form of stimulation. This didn’t feel like a blade–closer to a needle. Was it a needle? The pain was searing directly on your hard nipple, entering from one side and exiting from another. You groan loudly at this, though, the nipples remain hard at such an alluring, painful feeling. You knew this had been the other man, and you were unsure how to address him. So, you’d keep speaking directly to Sir for more guidance, more pain, more of that delectable pleasure. 

You feel a similar pain stinging on your other nipple, another needle entering and exiting out of the side of your nipple like so. You couldn’t squirm due to whatever kind of paralytic you were inflicted by. All you could do was experience the pain as the two were giving you, your mouth letting you breathy moans and groans. Since awakening this part of you that reveled in pain, this job was becoming easier as you leaned into things. You leaned into how your breasts felt achingly cold, with the stinging sensation hissing throughout your nipples. You let out more groans, feeling a buildup to saliva drip out of your mouth.

“Mmm. M-More.” you said, lips coated with your drool. You hear the men chuckle at your reactions, grabbing a breast each as they grope your breasts with some liquid. After a few sniffs, you make out an alcohol scent, deducing it to be some sort of disinfectant. But why the need for such a luxury? You knew infections could occur, but they only happened with piercings. Unless…? 

You hear the jingle of some more metal objects. You were curious to see, or feel rather, if these would be piercings. You never considered getting pierced before, but, there was a first time for everything. You wouldn’t put it past the Fatui to put some sort of tracker in them as well–an additional security measure to ensure you never escape. It was practical and hard to argue. You couldn’t turn down the pain after all. It was both your job and desire. So why complain?

The next movements felt swift. Just as quickly as the needles entered, they exited once the jingling sound briefly started at the front of each of your nipples. You let out several groans, even if only for a few seconds. The pain felt so wonderful, smooth, seamless. You were dying to see the end result of what had become of your body. You had only heard of rumors of others piercing their body, puncturing themselves for some body ornaments. But the thought of having your own, that there would be metal where your nipples were constantly. It was a thought you were growing quite used to. You had to continue your pleads, though, so they knew you hadn’t broken. It would take much more for you to reach a more pitiful state.

“More please,” you said. You listen in for their chuckles or reactions, but there had just been silence. You puff up your cheeks, blowing out the excess air in a fluid motion. What gives with the two above you, why weren’t they going all out? It was starting to feel surreal. Some of the most notorious criminals were letting a free piece of torture-ready meat go untortured. 

“Eager one, you are. Looks like Pantalone spoiled you too much,” the other man spoke, the sound of needles hitting a nearby basin. You grunt at this, turning your face away as it was the only form of disobedience you could show. Your body still lacked the ability of moving much due to some paralysis. You feel Sir’s comforting hands stroke along both of your breasts now, smiling as he begins to gently tug at your new piercings. You let out some groans on this, the sore and sensitive nipples burning at such rough movements. You wish you could lean away from it a bit, add more friction, but you settle for this. You feel the saliva overflow once more, dripping down either side of your mouth. Sir chuckles at this, giving the corner of your lips a small peck. You let out a disappointed sigh when you feel his hands drop from the fresh piercings, expecting much more. You hear a scowl from the other man, tutting afterward.

“Let them heal some before you ruin my beautiful work! The technology needs to sync to the nervous system too. Patience, the both of you,” the other man said, seeming to speak to both you and Sir. You both take part in a quick chuckle, shaking your head weakly. You had a small smile on your face, unflinching. This other man seemed much gentler than Sir. He was more boring than you had expected. Unable to move other parts of your body, to continue to move your head from back to front, humming. You feel Sir’s gloved hand cup your cheek, pausing your movement. You hear a napkin dispense from a nearby box.

“Don’t mind The Doctor, he’s just passionate about his inventions. One small thing out of place makes him uneasy,” Sir explains, stroking your cheek as he cleans up your drool, “He’s had all these torture devices and no test subjects for months.”

“Oh, being coy aren’t we? Are you not the one who offered to be–” The Doctor began to speak, but another gloved hand (likely Sir’s) slaps his face hard.

“Shush with your nonsense. We spoke and agreed on the durability and strength of your machinery being tested on her. If it proves useful, we duplicate and replicate. Simple as that,” Sir said. You can just hear how stern he was, his conviction, his pride dangling from just a few words off of The Doctor’s lips. This got your curiosity snowballing now.

“What did Sir offer?” you ask, curious. You feel Sir’s grip tighten along your jaw, showing his disapproval of such an act. This just brings a wider grin to your face. 

“Oh, such a curious thing you are! Let’s just say your little faux Dom has a pain fi–” The Doctor began to say, but the words seem to leave him. The hand that gripped tightly along your jaw had moved, a clattering of metal falling to the floor. Hushed voices, clumsy steps, lip smacking–this was becoming deliciously juicy. You perk your ears to listen to quite the makeout session. Or would it be more of a ‘shut up session’ on Sir’s end? You giggle nonetheless, pleased by how chaotic your new job was becoming. 

After some long moments of heartful hush kissing and stumbled feet, you hear both clear their throats.

“The Doctor can be quite the pest at times. Though I have learned methods of calming his quips,” Sir said, returning to you with a fresh napkin. He wipes the remaining drool from your face, erupting into quite the pleasant humming melody. You take this as Sir’s peaceful disposition, a rare sight. He never hummed with you, but with The Doctor fellow in tow, something in him felt warmer. You liked this side of Sir very much. 

“Blergh, ah. You are as prevaricating as they come,yet that tongue is so truthful,” The Doctor said, his words punctuated with a pleased cackle. You smile wider, happy to experience more of Sir’s colleagues. You knew there would be more to come, but you were getting used to things already. You got the sense that the two were equals, or at least on good enough terms to have friendly spats.  

“Ah, enough. How long until we are able to test the capabilities?” Sir asks.

“In a day or so. Like said, we’re routing an ent–” The Doctor said, but his words were cut off.

“Ah. Understood. Can you stand?” Sir asks, tapping at your neck. You try to move your limbs, and with some effort, you can start making some limbs wiggle and move. You weren’t quite ready for walking or any type of strenuous activity though. Those cuts along your thighs would surely drip and make a mess of things. 

“Not yet. I still feel a bit stuck,” you respond, smiling, “Though I’m always ready for more of your pain, Sir.” The Doctor snickers at the word Sir, causing you to glare over at him. He couldn’t see your eyes, sure, but you wanted to make a point to turn your head to face him.

“That’s ideal. We still need to deal with your thighs after all,” Sir said, feet shuffling across the floor. You raise your eyebrows at this, curious. It would be more sensible to put the trackers somewhere less easy to rip out. And with how deep Sir cut, it would be unlikely you would try to pry it out. You nod at Sir’s words, lying still. 

“Mmm, indeed. Now, you’ll feel a bit of pressure and perhaps burning. But it is all part of the process,” The Doctor instructs, “No running away now.” You laugh at his request, shaking your head.

“I am committed,” you said, “No running for me.” You listen as The Doctor relish in the comment, seeming pleased by your response. You listen as the sound of another metallic table rolls on over. You curl your toes in excitement. You knew it was likely just a transmitter or tracker, but this was likely another pain threshold test. You remain still as you can hear a variety of tools being selected, Sir gently raising your legs to place what felt like a towel underneath your thighs. You could feel yourself still bleeding, but the pain was dulled. Whatever paralytic they placed on your body at the start was starting to wear off. You were eager to see if this would shoot more pain along your thighs, legs, amid other places. Then you could prove to The Doctor you were worthy of whatever he had in store. 

You hear a blowtorch click on. You could feel the heat coming from your left. Sir was now on your right, gently massaging your skin. It felt too gentle, but it must be a sign for what was to come. You could hardly hold in your excitement. You decided, if this would be your life, to lean into it. What harm would it bring to find the joy in such discomfort?

You hear the torch click off. The heat is still there, somewhat, exuding from the metal. You hear more metal clacking, and before long, you can feel the heat come closer to your thigh. You decide against bracing for the pain, willingly accepting however it may last. You feel the tool’s burn initially, searing into your thigh. You let out a loud scream, not feeling a sensation like this before. It felt more impactful than the wax you had previously. And, much more painful. You could feel tears start to weld along the corners of your eyes, screaming coming out of your mouth. Your eyes were wide open at this point, staring into the redness of the fabric. You could hear both men laughing at your scream, enjoying the sounds of your pain. The metal tool continued to dig deeper into the wound, diving further in with its heat. You struggle to stay still, feeling your feet begin to shake. It was such a searing sensation, burning your innermost thigh. You continued out your screams, tears escaping the red fabric and falling onto your cheek. You could feel Sir’s gloved hand come toward your cheek, gripping it with that familiar agony.

The pain continues for minutes still, your screams ringing out every other second. They sound desperate, raw, feral. It was a pain you knew never could exist. The metal proceeds to exit out of your left side and dip into a liquid. You listen as the tool is sloshed around, slowing your screams into softer mewls. Sir continues to grip at that cheek of yours, pulling it before leaving a line of kisses along your jawline. He laughs as he does this, hearing the blowtorch click right back on.

“Atonshing. I was expecting more of a fight. A screamer more than anything,” The Doctor muses, his words barely audible above the blaring sound of the torch. You smile  at those words, feeling prideful. You had to be accepted now, by The Doctor. He had to have more in store, something sadistic and incredibly painful. And you were ready to handle it until your body would knock itself out.

The blowtorch clicks off once more, the tool this time being immediately pressed into the right leg. You scream out, feeling Sir’s chuckles right along your temple. He was kissing your face all over, laughing at you, enjoying this vision of you. But he was missing the best part; your eyes. Sir always enjoyed staring into your eyes, devouring them with his own, observing every feature of you. You could only assume he hid your vision so you wouldn’t be able to witness how exactly they were performing the surgery. That, and who knew if The Doctor felt comfortable with you seeing his face yet.

You continued to belt out your screams, your pleasureful groans and moans. You kept on,  resisting the urge to squirm and fall off the table. You had to be a good girl for Sir after all. You could feel the hot metal drag along your muscles, digging around. You knew this guy operating had to be an actual doctor, right? His movements had been searing up your legs, diving into your flesh until nestling into a deep part of your thigh. You exhale sharply as you feel the tool exit your flesh. You can still feel the tears streaming. That feeling, that grit–you knew you proved yourself to The Doctor. You were worthy of whatever he just shoved into you. And, surely, whatever was to come from it.

You felt Sir’s hands gently caress your skin, massaging it almost. You exhale, nuzzling against that hand of his.

“Good girl. So obedient,” Sir said. His hands continue to stroke your face. Sir hums, pleased, as The Doctor works on the stitches along your thighs. You were hardly bothered by the feeling of stitches, too focused on your reward of so much attention. Sure, there was much pain, but there was so much pleasure that came from it. You could feel how wet it all made you. You doubted The Doctor failed to notice. Or perhaps the other man was more concerned about his gadgets and their utility? Either way, you felt pleased. You continue to relax against his hands, sinking into his gloves and nuzzling in close. 

“Stitches will heal later, but the actual framework is installed now. If you’re going to test it out, don’t forget to keep me in the loop. In my work–” The Doctor said, but Sir was quick to finish his words.

“There is only potential and liabilities. You say it with anything you do,” Sir finishes, leaning in to give your forehead a small kiss. You smile at the feeling, hearing the man cut the string of one of your stitches. One down, perhaps one more to go? You listen to their conversation, hoping to learn more of what this framework entailed. 

“Still. I would like to witness and adjust as needed. If we are to, as you say ‘duplicate and replicate’, we need accurate data. Why are you in such a hurry, Pantalone?” asked The Doctor. You are intrigued by the rush too, staying quiet. You wanted to hear the answer too. Why was Sir so persistent about this progress? 

“In the name of efficiency, my dear Doctor. The speed simply comes with wanting to be efficient. The girl still has to fix dinner, after all,” Sir stated. The Doctor seems pensive at this mention, noted by his hums and quiet response.  

“So you want me to use the numbing agent? Or would you like to see her struggle standing?” The Doctor asked, seeming genuinely interested in the next response. You were interested in this answer as well, despite still wanting to nuzzle into Sir’s hand.

“Let’s just. Wait for the other numbered agent to make it here. He’s usually the cook. He would be the best judge of her ability. And, as the saying goes, your team is only as good as your weakest link,” Sir responds, keeping his gloved hand right on your cheek. There was no argument against being the weakest one here–hell it would be a surprise if you could survive a fight with any of the agents. But the way Sir  worded that sentence made you curious. Who were these numbered agents? It got you thinking about what the hierarchy was again. And, perhaps after meeting another, you would get the full explanation. It was a far fetched ideal, but one that could still be valid. 

“What say you, girl?” The Doctor asked you, feeling his breath on your skin. You surmised he must have leaned in to achieve this, simply nodding at his statement. You had to prove your worth after all. You were an expensive toy, after all. You hear the last snip of your stitches, a cool liquid covering the newly stitched areas.

“I am fine with whatever is preferred. If I fail, I will simply deal with the consequences,” you said. You weren’t about to be afraid of Fatui now, even after they performed some strange surgery on your body. Besides, that part of things wouldn’t come to fruition until tomorrow. 

“Very well. Once Captain has returned from his journey, you will assist in dinner. It is customary when more than two of us gather to sit down for a meal. Surely you have trained her in table manners, yes?” The Doctor said. You gulp at the mention of manners, remembering the disaster you made of the Liyue dish. You stay quiet, letting Sir speak on your skill. You know how  upsetting it was to Sir when you made a mess of that dress. You dared not speak of it now, especially in front of one of his colleagues. 

“Yes, I am certain of it. Though, I do find a certain pleasure in feeding this one,” Sir said. You blush scarlet at the mention, turning your face away from Sir. You feel his gloved hands tug at your skin, pulling your face to turn back to him. The red fabric tied along your face is loosened, seeing something strange. Sir’s smile spreads across his face, his gloved hands stroking your cheek. It was the first time you saw him smile this way, so winsome, so carefree. Perhaps Sir felt most comfortable in familiar company. Your eyes, see from the corner of your eye another figure. A strange mask of sorts obscures The Doctor’s face. Long, blue hair draped over his face. Strange blue containers hung from his attire, with splotches of your blood peppering his outfit. 

“Well, a belated welcome to you, my dear. We will be getting quite acquainted,” The Doctor said, “Perhaps we will even rip the rest of this latex off of you.” You turn to see Sir’s response, and his lips are already  sucking along your neck. You gasp at this, blushing red. Were they going to…? You weren’t even sure what to make of it.

“Be tasteful, Dottore. That was expensive!” Sir said, “We must do so tastefully.” 

“Tasteful? And here I thought we would be using my scalpels,” Dottore responds with a laugh before sucking on the other side of your neck. This was getting…interesting.

Chapter Text

The latex outfit was reduced to ribbons. Along your body lay several markings from The Doctor and Sir. You could hardly move due to how rough they were. Ruthless, painful–but also incredibly precise.  It was hard to determine why or how things became so feral. You were allowed to simply exist, squirming and moaning out anything that occupied your head. Their chuckles would fill the room, marking your body with tools and their own mouths. You never thought to be used like this during your first day, but it was a pleasant surprise. 

By the time the two felt satisfied with their handiwork, you lay still against the metallic table. The cool, metallic surface cooled your hot body. Splotches of blood dried near your thighs, fresher blood pools toward your feet. The two seemed to have a fascination with blood and your pain tolerance. Even as they pushed you to your limits, in hopes of you passing out, you managed to hold on for longer. You had to show them that their toy could pass the most rigorous durability tests. 

“Hmm, quite the specimen indeed. Dottore, let’s show the girl her quarters. It’s near time to make preparations for supper,” Sir said. Your eyes watch as his face moves toward yours, peppering your face with smaller kisses. You remain still, though a small smile creeps along your lips. The Doctor mirrors Sir’s actions, littering your face with kisses before assisting you on your way to stand. You feel gravity pull at your stitched thighs, knees bending as the full extent of the surgery initially hits you. The sting of fresh wounds radiates from your thighs. You could hardly stand, much less walk. You heard the two chuckle at this, giving you a nice slap on the back. You inhale sharply at this, wobbling your way into a straight standing stance.

“There we are,” The Doctor said, clicking his tongue. The two men move toward what appears to be a wall, but a door size slice of it moves. It reveals a darker hallway, lit by lanterns as they hang from the ceiling. The ceilings were high up, lending the light to not light up too much of the narrow passageway. As an upside, the narrowness led you to use the walls as leverage to move around. You hopped along, using the sides of the wall for helpful balancing tools. Your palms  stretch out, sliding against the smooth metal infrastructure. The Doctor leads the way as Sir stays behind you, prodding you  along with his fingers when you slow down too much. You feel yourself challenged with your own endurance–the urge of stopping is growing fast. Your thighs felt burning hot with the new stitches threatening to become undone with each step you took. There was that sting, the feeling of those tiny threads ripping out and onto the ground below. You dared not ask the two men to slow their pace, in fear of what they would do to you as a result.

After what felt like several minutes of pain for your thighs, you come upon a well lit area. The area widens. The metallic walls and ceiling stay, matched with a large rectangular table. The lighting was much brighter, with the addition of lower hanging lanterns. The lower lanterns had strange symbols drawn on each one. You try to discern the meaning from each, but you already hear the men around you laughing at your confusion.

“You will learn each crest with time. They represent each Harbinger,” Sir explains, “We check in by tapping them. Since you will be under my supervision, you are to touch my crest to signal your presence.” You nod at the words, staring up and looking at myriad options. You wonder which symbol belongs to Sir. Your eyes continue to stare up at the symbol marked lanterns, considering all options. 

The Plague Mask symbol immediately makes you think of a Plague Doctor. A plague doctor, ergo “The Doctor”...but you weren’t going to touch that symbol. You had to figure out Sirs’ symbol. Before long, you feel a strong grip along your forearm. You turn to see Sir gripping your arm, motioning it toward a symbol with a hand with a spiral in its palm. You nod to this, committing the emblem to memory. As your fingers press along the symbol, it glows red quickly before fading back to its original black color. Sir drops your arm like deadweight before pressing it himself moments after, the color pulsating red before reverting back to black. You drop your hand to your side, watching as The Doctor moves toward another symbol. He passes straight past the Plague Mask emblem, taking you by surprise. Perhaps there had been another doctor of sorts here too? You think on this, noting the strange symbol he touches, blazing red before reverting back to black. The symbol was like a box–or was it more like a lantern inside of a lantern? It was hard to describe. There is a moment of silence shared between you three, standing there, as if waiting for something. You manage to keep your standing stature still, proper, awaiting your next command by either Sir or The Doctor.

After a minute or so, the touched symbols turn a fluorescent green before more door shaped holes appear in the walls around you. You turn to see one door open close to Dottore’s symbol and another besides Sir’s symbol.

“I await the day for us to agree on machine handled check-in. Rather than those dull grunts,” The Doctor muses, staring at his hand before walking toward his door,  “Somedays I wonder if they do not recognize their superiors. Would we wait hours until we are able to enter our rooms?”

“Recall the last hideout we tested one of your test subjects. Knave had to completely destroy it before it destroyed us ,” Sir said, shaking his head, “But surely. One of these days you’ll master it, yes?” There is a brief silence that follows. There seemed to be a bit more tension than before. The Doctor turns to face you both, creases on either side of his face. He huffs before letting out a loud cackle, wagging a finger toward Sir.

“A mere miscalculation. Not a failure by any means. But, we are digressing from the point here. You and the girl need to be cleaned up for supper. You know how committed to time management Captain is. He may be late but must have his reasons. Girl, be ready to show your skills to him. He’s the true test here, the fun from earlier was just your preliminary testing.” Dottore said,  stroking his chin with a bloodstained glove. He seemed to notice belatedly that the blood stained his chin, shrugging it off. While The Doctor was one for fancy wordsmithing, he also seemed equally as much of an airhead. The dynamics were things you had to learn quickly, less you receive a punishment worse than death. You nod toward Dottore, placing your hands behind your back. You recall Sir mentioning serving and cooking being part of your new job description. You hadn’t forgotten and that part worried you the most. It was with someone you hadn’t met before either. You hadn’t a clue what type of meal he would require you make, less which region. You had to focus, for now, on your manners and presentation. You bow with your upper body, careful not to bend your knees much. You see as you rise back up The Doctor is already walking through the threshold of his door.

“I will see you both at dinner, please be properly dressed. I doubt Captain will find that Latex tasteful,” Dottore said, his voice becoming echoey. The halls seemed to wind and narrow as you wandered from room to room. This entire hideout was an elaborate set of hallways and rooms. You assume that it was intentional in case of invasion or any attempt of espionage. You feel Sir’s strong gloved hands tug at you once, turning your body entirely to face him. That blank facade he had before has returned, a smile on his face.

“Ah, we best get ready. I will fetch one of the Mages to grab your garbs from the other room. Something a bit more formal will fit the initial meeting well,” Sir said, letting your arm go as he walked toward the door opposite of Dottore’s. You follow, keeping manners in mind as well as the pain in your inner thigh. Your arms remain together behind your back, trying to make note of anything of significance.  

Your eyes are immediately drawn to the gray lighting above. The ceilings were similar to the prior room. You could touch the lanterns if you wanted to. They hang low, only about a foot higher than your head. They were decorated with Sir’s symbol, a hand with that spiral shape spreading out along the palm. You wondered what it meant, wanting to ask, afraid of the results of such a question. Were they assigned these strange symbols, or did they carry some sort of meaning behind them? Your curiosity continued to grow as  you walked for what felt like several minutes, twisting and turning throughout the entire hallway. Sir stops abruptly, which causes you to stop on the tip of your toes, struggling to keep balance. You manage to catch yourself before falling into Sir’s back, looking around for any change in appearance. The same, dull metallic walls cornered you from all ends. The only notable difference had been the lightbulb right above Sir’s head.

“These hallways will surely drive you mad. Dottore calls them needlessly long, but it does provide time for deep thought. Tell me, what do you expect of your longing?” Sir asked, his glass-clad face turning to face you. You gulp at this, fixing up any laziness that may have eased in your posture.  You straighten your stance, looking up, sliding your feet side-by-side with not a single centimeter of space between.

“Whatever you believe I deserve, Sir,” you said. You kept your voice low, hearing your response echo throughout the hallway. You could only hope it was what he was wanting to hear. You watch as the smile stays there, same with his pleasant disposition, with just silence. You weren’t sure what else to say. What else was there to elaborate on? You were likely not going to be treated like a princess–and hardly anything like a human from his treatment so far.

“Close your eyes.” Sir said. There was the sternness in his voice again, snappy, clear. There was no room to misunderstand as you shut your eyes quickly. You listen to the area around you shift. It was as if walls were moving, the hallway widening–like some magical home that could reconstruct itself on request. You try to control your beating heart, inhaling slowly to manage your heartrate. Whatever you would open your eyes to would be your fate, your new home. And whatever that would come to pass would need to be acceptable, regardless of personal preference. That’s what you think Fatui's shtick is after all. You come, you did something to offset the entirety of Tevyet, to stay to please whoever their leader was.

“Open them,” Sir whispers into your ear. This gets the hair on your neck raised, your heartbeat pumping–lastly your eyes open. It takes a minute for you to fully process what your eyes are witnessing. 

A large, expansive room was paired with an immaculately cleaned bathroom nearby. The hardwood flooring, matched with the multitude of awards, caught your eye. You turn to Sir, who nods at you to move toward the left. You move, slowly, staring at each section of the room to take in each detail.  You move left to right, assuming the bathroom is poised to be your final stop.

The left of the room had been decorated with a number of trophies based on his banking in Snezhnaya. All of them had a number of accolades for banking. Financing leader, revenue generator–and a bunch of other fancy words you dared not to dissect the meaning of. This was just Sir’s day job. It was how you met but very unlikely to be a fruitful point of discussion. You continue your gaze toward the desk. Hardwood, definitely something strong, as you see indents of where the desk may have been in the past. Your eyes then turn toward the large bedding, covered in black blankets with matching pillowcases. Your eyes continue to search, as if expecting there to be another bed for you somewhere. Was he expecting you two to share…?

“We shared a bed twice already, I figure you are bed trained enough yes,” Sir said, placing a hand along your shoulder. You nod, a small smile on your face. 

“I was expecting to be on the floor or cage,” you respond, scratching your head with a soft laugh.

“Oh, that can be arranged if your preferences match that. Though, I imagine to be quite uncomfortable with those stitches and your workload. I wake up quite early myself, so you will not inconvenience me by doing your daily duties,” Sir explained, slipping the hand that was on your shoulder around your waist. He pulls you in close, kissing along your neck. You blush at this, unsure of the appropriate response. You simply allow him to kiss and nibble along your face, staying still as your eyes rests along the bedding. You feel his hand pull you closer to the right, noting the additional desk that appears newer. On it were some advanced cookery books along with baking tips.

“I expect you to grow and learn more as you travel. Don’t limit yourself to a single flavor or region,” Sir said, squeezing your side, “And never be afraid to ask Captain his advice. Though brutally honest, it comes with the delicacies that are made in his kitchen.” You nod to those words, eyes scanning over the desk and writing materials beside the other books. You wonder if you would be able to think of much in terms of recipe. If anything, you could only hope to learn from traveling and different restaurants you may frequent. Your body is then pulled into the tiled bathroom. 

White tiles shine as the lighting is bright in here, fit with mirrors and a multitude of showering necessities.  Towels, wash clothes, hair products, smell goods, and a long range of things lined an entire wall. The product wall was the first thing you noted, the initial sight obscured by the angle.  

“I spare no expense for my own appearance, so I expect the same of you,” Sir said, stroking your back, “Though the top row is off limits unless you get my approval.” You note this, nodding as you notice the expensive and strange bottles at the top-most row. The descriptions you were able to read appear to be medicinal. The usage was explained to assist with sore muscles, back aches, amid other ailments. This hadn’t caught you off guard since Sir likely worked long hours keeping the Northland Bank branches in order. Sir also had to balance whatever workload Fatui operations demanded of him. 

Your eyes then move toward the glass shower, a tub built in beside it with a pair of two sinks. More products and towels are littered about the area, including a familiar dress that you purchased earlier today. You feel hands pull at the remaining latex, ripping it to shreds. You decide not to cover yourself, figuring Sir has seen it all at this point anyhow. You feel his eyes on you, watching your every movement. You remain still, feeling the latex peel off your skin and thrown in the nearby trash bin.

“We’ll get you a new play outfit another time. Hopefully one Dottore won’t be so eager to destroy,” Sir said, giving your temple a kiss before placing his nose against yours. This makes you look toward his cold, blue eyes. And, soon after, you hear humming. It was that same humming you heard from him during the surgery. The humming you figured was there because of Dottore’s presence. It was making you doubt if it were The Doctor that made Sir so jovial, so happy. You were eager to ask, but, you feel lips along your own. You return the kiss, slowly wrapping your arms around the other. You feel his tongue, hungry, searching your entire mouth as if you held a key within it. You lean against him, his arms gripping your lower body tightly before raising it with both hands. He places your back against the wall with a slam, causing you to groan out. The impact caused your legs to shiver a tinge, that familiar sadistic chuckle leaving his mouth. You try to shut him up by kissing him in return, but that only leads to your tongue being bitten. You wail at this, in his mouth, his chuckling erupting louder as his lips part from yours. He drew blood with that bite. Was he not done with his play yet? Was that phrasing ‘play outfit’ his code for beating the ever loving crap out of you? What odd words these criminals used. Eh, you were one of them too now. You had to embrace things like this, lean into it, become comfortable with these things. You try to relax your bleeding tongue, but you wince at even the slightest movement.

“You always surprise me,” Sir whispers, leaving bloodied kisses along your cheeks, “So unaware of how easy you are.” You take offense to that last sentence, eyes furrowing at Sir. You narrow your eyes at him, unsure of what ‘easy’ meant. Sure, you could be bought with a high price tag–but you were no easy goal. You had to show, not tell that fact.

Your attempts at moving your arms are thwarted with Sir’s arms tightening around your waist, pressing himself against you. There was  a new sensation erupting from your back, and then it hit you. The porcelain surface, the coldness–he was placing you onto a toilet. You move your head to the left, noting a metal bar protruding beside the shower on the left. On the metal bar had been a change of clothes for yourself and what appeared to be his own. To the right was a dresser filled with even more product, though more so geared teeth upkeep and mouth hygiene. You never had the chance to be in a bathroom that was nearly as large as a bedroom. The funding this organization had was starting to exceed your expectations.

“Since those stitches are fresh, you shouldn’t bathe for a couple of days. To avoid infection, I’ll be personally wiping you down. Besides,” Sir said, leaving a soft kiss along your chin, “It’s better when others can see the marks still.” You blush again at such words, unsure of what to make of it. Would the Captain make mentions of the many welts and swells you had? You take a quick glance at the dress that was hanging up, gauging it was the one to show off your arms and legs. You belatedly nod at those words, albeit late, to show your support. You hear the sound of Sir’s gloves being removed. And, shortly after, the sound of new gloves being slipped on. These had an elastic sound to them–surgical perhaps? Your eyes move to confirm this. The material was sleek and appeared more plastic-esque than fabric based. You nod to those words once more,  gesturing with your hands that you were prepared for a nice wipe down. Your parents would call this a military shower. It was when there wasn’t enough water to go around, meaning folks either had to shower in under two minutes or fill a basin with water. Since you grew up poor, it was something you were familiar with. It would be interesting to see how Sir would make it to his taste–or if it would at all. He wasn’t wearing his usual garbs and seemed to be taking the risk of infection seriously.

“So, should I wait for you to bathe me before preparing breakfast tomorrow?” you ask, your eyes looking over Sir’s. He turns to you, looking pensive. He gives it a moment to think over before nodding, turning to start the bath water. Sir grabs a few different  bottles from the top row, pouring some of the contents into the bathtub. You figure they were some sort of smell goods mixed with antibiotics. You inhale, taking in the pleasant scents of honey and sweet flowers. There were likely other things in that mixture, too, but those were the dominant smells you could muster from the current concoction. 

“There is much to learn regarding the current and future hideouts we will frequent. You have already experienced this one. It’s one of our oldest establishments. We use the strength of our visions, or in some cases, delusions to create a labyrinth. In order to find a specific room,  there are steps to gain access. The first, as you saw, is to touch the associated symbol with the Harbinger. The next step, in this hideout’s case, is for those on duty to confirm the presence of said Harbinger. After that has been completed, the entryway will be opened thusly,” Sir explains, sloshing his hand  in the liquid of the bathtub. Sir lifts his hand up, grabbing a washcloth with a sponge. He turns to you, your eyes watching over his features closely. The man seemed to be ready to share a bit more of your daily duties, as one should. You hardly even knew the basics of getting around. And tomorrow, you were just expected to cook and do other chores like some housewife. It was making you feel a bit uncertain, unsteady. But that same risk of the unknown brought the thrill of adventure, intrigue, desire. And that was the feeling you would continue to ride along to stay comfortable in such a strange environment. 

“Afterward, one must channel their elemental prowess. It may take some time for those who are not as adept in combat, but eventually the hallway will link your elemental energy to your quarters. You see, this hideout utilizes both elemental energy and Tsaritsa’s will. Her intrigue and benevolence in our goal shows even in the construction of these hideouts. The ore is of a special material from our homeland. It hinders those with elemental sight from tracking us. Something in the metal acts as a blocker to elemental energy that may be inside of it. In addition, the building functions like a puzzle. The key pieces, Harbingers, enter and are able to freely flow throughout. This makes it difficult for outsiders to enter without permission. Even with elemental sight, those sneaking around will find it near impossible to trace us. The metal serves as elemental energy insulator, as well as conductor. The halls could easily become chilled as a blizzard. Or, alternatively, as hot as the dessert in Sumeru,” Sir said, dipping the sponge into the water before wiping it along your body. You remain still, only moving when prompted by Sir. The water felt cool along your skin, helping ease the wounds that cover your body. Your eyes scan over where the sponge glides. The marks were still there, as Sir requested, but the pain dulled. You relax into the slight wipes and touches of Sir, leaning along the porcelain frame of the toilet. 

There is silence that follows, Sir’s attention completely onto your frame. He daps the sponge into the water, quickly swiping up any and all visible blood stains. There was particular attention given to your stitched skin. The moment the sponge had finished soaking up the blood, a wet towel came to wipe the area clean. And, soon after, a dry towel followed to leave the area dry, clean, and comfortable. The humming from Sir would return, the sound increasing from what it was before. You get the sense that Sir felt within his element here. His humming, gentle touches, and overall disposition reminded you of a few nights ago. One of the past days all Sir wanted was to hold and care for you gently. The usual grips, grabs and slams were replaced with softer interactions. Cuddling, book reading, and long kisses–the traits one would expect from a lover. It was an odd switch of things, but you figured it came with whatever Sir fancied in the moment. And you could not trust that mood to stay or remain for that long. There was a reason for them to complete surgery, to insert whatever material into your legs. The soft feelings were just that, fleeting feelings, preparing you for something worse. It was what you wanted to tell yourself, in fear of getting too accustomed to the gentle touch. That wasn’t a part of the contract–rather–a result of Sir’s desire to change things. 

It wouldn’t take Sir too long to finish wiping along your entire body, keeping the entire interaction focused on disinfection and cleanliness. This disappoints you some. Where was the pain, his haunting chuckle–that winsome grin? The hums felt like the too long intermission of the typical treatment  you expected. It felt like a poor attempt on Sir’s end to catch you off guard before switching back to the pain and punishment you had expected. You kept that mouth of yours shut despite this. You dared not test the man who was in his element, his chambers, away from eyes and in a place which could hold many ways for your demise. 

“There we are, good and clean. Now, go get dressed in my room. I will not be showering for long,” Sir said. He brings hand down to grab your hand, assisting you in standing up. You stretch, noting the difference in your pain. It was still there, but dulled by whatever medicine was in that water. You bow to Sir, grabbing your dress and other garments before heading out to the bedroom area.

You ensure you are dry, wiping off any lingering wet spots with a towel. After, you throw on your undergarments and finally the dress itself. It was an easy dress to slip on. The scoop dress allowed for you to move about easily, albeit needing Sir to zip you up. The dress was white with black patterns along the chest and the insides of the dress. You notice Sir meant what he mentioned regarding showing off your scars. The dress did just that, even showing some marks between the dress patterns on your shoulders. 

Fancy, calligraphy like patterns stretch from the upper shoulder just below your bosoms. The front of your dress was cut much shorter than the back, showing off your stitched legs and more of the same patterns  on the dresses inner front side. The attire felt more like a ballroom dress more than anything. Perhaps, with how Sir behaved and carried himself, he saw that even his cook was dressed in refined wares. You take a seat on the bed, awaiting for Sir’s arrival to finish getting ready and head toward the kitchen area. You take another look around the room, this time from the perspective of the bed.

You are able to get a closer look at both desks, facing away from one another. The one soon to be your own appeared to be built similar to your stature. You reach a hand out to feel the waxy, smooth finish on the wood. Leaning further in, you take a brief inhale. This was more of a traditional job, with some eccentric living arrangements thrown in. You, who lacked a vision, would likely need to be accompanied by another Harbinger to go anywhere. You were curious about what Sir meant regarding a delusion. You knew some basic knowledge of where visions came from, the stories of how Archons bless special folk with them…but you weren’t special at all. You were just an ex waitress who had a high medical bill. Even with something called a delusion, you were doubtful you could exert much  elemental energy if at all. And was Sir expecting you to learn fighting skills as well? 

Just as your thoughts are beginning to snowball, you are drawn back to reality. There is a tightness drawn to your chest. You inhale sharply, noting the sound of your zipper being pulled upwards. Your eyes look around and find Sir carefully zipping up your dress. You note his own attire is incredibly formal as well. It was a similar outfit that he wore the first night you saw him. A gray coat is accentuated by a dark blue suit, clinging to his muscular form. Your eyes scan his body, noting this as you nod toward him.

“You recall this outfit, I assume. This is my normal wear. You will see me in this nearly everyday,” Sir said, taking a seat beside you. His arms wrap around your body, giving it a tight squeeze. You exhale at the pressure, relaxing at the feeling. The hug felt warm. Perhaps it was leading into something antagonizing–but it was bliss. The feeling of Sir’s warm arms embracing you felt like nothing else. You lean your head along his own, feeling his lips on yours. You dare not kiss him back after the tongue biting earlier, allowing him to do as he pleased. Sir pulls away earlier than expected, standing. He extends a hand to you, assisting you in standing up.

“I will request that you close your eyes once more. Another thing needed to traverse the halls is to take our combat stance. I prefer to keep that side of me a secret for now,” Sir said, following his orders as your sight goes dark. You can hear the familiar sounds of the halls shifting around you, with the wooden floor quickly replaced with the metallic flooring you were growing accustomed to. Given that Tsaritsa’s will was a part in operating this massive hideout, the cold was to be expected. But where did the heat generate from, you wonder. And how exactly did she manage so many different hideouts via this special ore, you ask yourself. You were beginning to get lost in thought as you traversed through the winding narrow hallways. The time you were given between rooms led you to continue thinking of the less pleasurable aspects of this job. You had to cook something–a meal–which was growing closer with each step. Your feet were feeling heavy. It was not due to pain or any sort of discomfort. It was the anticipation that weighed on you. The anticipation of what dish the Captain would judge and challenge you to. 

Before you could step any further, you feel Sir’s hand wrap tight around your waist. You stop in your place, finding a wall that blocks further progression. You note this, nodding at the lack of an exit. Sir chuckles, bringing that hand around your waist to your cheek to pinch it.

“Getting too wrapped up in your thoughts? My my, perhaps these hallways are a bit too long for you,” Sir teased. You puff out your cheeks, his pinching becoming more tight. You wince at the feeling. 

The walls proceed to hiss, eyes still closed due to not being instructed to open them just yet. You feel the arm around your waist begin tugging you forward, and you obey. Your bare feet meet a new type of flooring, somewhat warmer. Heavier footsteps can be heard from a distance away, but you try to keep your wits about you. You remain close to Sir’s hand, eyes still shut as you hear Sir’s chuckle.

“Ah, please open your eyes. How else will you cook?” Sir said whilst chuckling. You open your eyes quickly, noting the new room before you. You note the floors are still metallic in here, same with the walls. A few feet in front of you lay a fully stocked pantry. There was a mixture of items balanced on metal cupboards. The sheer size and height of the cupboard would mean you would need to make use of a stool to reach some ingredients. Given how high some of this was, it was starting to become a worry of yours. Did the Fatui use elemental energy to cook–another way to refine their combat skills? You distract yourself from the thought with the contents of the pantry. Fresh vegetables, fruits, and spices are on the higher shelves. Dried meat, Cured fish, among other resting proteins were hung from the highest shelf. Their smells were contained in thick cloth, with the contents written along the front. More common pantry ingredients, like sugar, jam, and more long lasting  materials were located in the middle. Each item had been impeccably labeled, similar to how the walk-in at your old job was organized. Your eyes then lower to the bottom section of the pantry, which lay a variety of sugary treats and cakes, with a large, red label. The label notes that the sweets are specifically for Dottore, Il Capitano, and Columbina. You figure the two latter names were other members of the Fatui elite. You commit the newer names to memory, moving out of the Pantry and into a cutting station. 

The metal seen for the pantry and flooring is replaced by marble. Cuts decorate the surface of the cutting area, as well as several cutting boards. Your fingers feel about the grooves and cutting boards, getting a sense for how worn in the kitchen was. It seemed redundant to have cutting boards if they were to simply chop directly on the marbled countertop. Or perhaps they came in after they realized the damage was being done, you thought. You turn toward the oven’s now, hands dragging along the grooved marble. You note the gas burners, peeking behind the ovens to see the backsides clear of grease or dirt. There had to be some grunts that did the cleaning, too, which made you feel more optimistic regarding your status. You held onto the hope that you were simply a cook and not a cleaner, a toy and not a tool. The sink that rested beside the stove was in great condition too. The thought of becoming a weapon for the Fatui, which you had brief thoughts during the surgery about, did not sit well. But if it was just a simple game of dress up, down, and then cook? That would be a job you could do until your deathbed. 

“Satisfied with the conditions? Surely, I know you are anxious to meet the next Harbinger. However, our dear Captain is even more strict on posture and composure. So bear in mind your table manners as well as posture,” Sir said, his feet moving over to yours. You could hear his footsteps approach you, a hand securely wrapping along your waist. Your eyes turn to  the last section of the kitchen, a line of microwaves with some quick meals stashed underneath the metal cupboard. The outer microwave appeared sleek, cleaned, spotless. Anything from instant noodles to a ready-made hotpot was stacked underneath the microwave. Your eyes move back up to Sir, whose hand seemed to be fixing your posture and waist. You allow him, trying to commit to memory the way he wished for you to stand.

When Sir’s hand is released from your waist, you ensure our posture remains straight, eyes looking forward to where you originally entered from. You note the lack of a door, similar to the rectangular table from before. If Sir’s words were true, then that meant only Harbingers could access this kitchen as well. That, or some lower level grunts assigned for cleaning duty. You await for the guest of honor to arrive, hands folded neatly on top of one another behind your back. Your eyes watch the entrance closely for any sign of a new door slice to populate. 

“It’s quite interesting that he has become enamored with one of Mondstandt’s head militia. There was a brief clash between our forces and theirs. Somehow, the two came to a cease fire and shared drinks and food. Today, hopefully, we will learn the motives behind such an odd friendship,” Sir said, taking graceful, calculated steps around your figure. You continue to stare onward, nodding at the other’s words. Cooking appeared to have been the secondary goal all along today–intel was the main dish. You were simply a conversation piece. That leads you to more racing thoughts, the desire to learn and lean on these factors if cooking were to be successful today. 

Then, in the midst of your strategizing, a large slice of door opens where you entered. The size and width seemed triple the size of your own. You get nervous at this. The doors were never that big. It towered over your own figure from the few feet of space you had. Soon, you see Dottore exit from the door, along with a tall, cloaked man. You ensure your posture is painstakingly straight, arms behind your back, and eyes facing the new company that has entered the room.

“Ah well, it is time for introductions! My dear girl, this is Il Capitano! Il Capitano, this is the new girl!” Dottore speaks, his speech much more vibrate than before. You observe his face, noting the clean face matched with the messy, blue hair. His outfit was much similar to Sir’s. A lighter coat matched his darker suit, not bothering to wear shoes.

Your eyes move to the other man with curiosity. His large frame reminded you of how some artists drew superheroes, or some man-made experiment. His large figure easily towered over everyone’s in the room, his face covered by the helmet along his face. The inside of said helmet appeared like a deep blackness, as if his body were the suit and coat he wore. Before getting too lost in your own judgements, you bow to the man, introducing your name and what your new role would look like. Heavy steps approach you. Each step Capitano makes seems to make an audible shake in the pantry’s cupboards. You suck in every ounce of fear into your belly, keeping a straight arrow stature. You hear footsteps move ahead of you, likely Sir. He clears his throat, noticing from the corner of your eye his hand gesturing to Il Capitano and Dottore.

“What shall we have for dinner?” Sir asked, seeming to direct the question more toward the other two in the room. Dottore shrugs at the answer, taking more interest in you. His red eyes take in each section of your body, stifling a chuckle when he sees your stitches and other wounds visible on your body. You want to act reproachful toward such behavior, but rather impress the new member approaching you.

Heavy footsteps stop directly in front of you. The seeming void full helmet tilts downward at you, as if the Harbinger was inspecting something.

“No vision. No elemental sight. Combat skills, girl?” a deep, resonating voice belt from the helmet. There it was–your true fear. Fighting for a cause you had little knowledge or care for. Honey thick hesitancy grew in your gullet. You knew of no combat style other than to flee. And here it was to be announced to the entire group present.

“No sire–I mean, Ca,” you stumble over your words, clearing your throat before rephrasing, “Il Capitano. My true skills are that of kitchen knowledge. I do not have combat skills nor have the Archons blessed me with a Vision. Please, still consider me of use however you wish.” You could feel yourself sweating now. In front of Sir was easier, his desires were made clear from the start. Dottore followed suit with Sir’s desires–but the man in front of you was hard to read. He seemed to have only one thing on his mind. You hear silence for a bit, hoping to hear some words of acknowledgement or that the man would not be upset at your answer.

“Well. Considering your evident lack of conversational skills. And your disregard for the present question at hand. My patience already wears thin,” Il Capitano said. You shudder at the words, reverting to a stringent stance from before in seconds. You had to regain composure or else you would crumble under the pressure. 

“What are the known allergic foods? I suggest a soup or salad, something light. I would hate for any of the fresh vegetables to waste here,” you answer, your voice wavering slightly toward the end. Sure, you were hinting at these men letting the veggies decay. But at least it was an idea. It was a start to answering the men’s desires. The helmet-clad man moves his head to the pantry, the top shelves easily in eyeshot for him. He appears to survey what kind of fresh food you currently have in stock, using gloved hands to pick several different ingredients. Il Capitano then tosses the gathered ingredients into a bowl, and then at you. The bowl lands with a resounding thud against the marbled countertop.

“Clean those, now. Cut them. Organize and sort them. Today you will learn a recipe for a salad uncommon to Snezhnaya. Take notes. I expect you to replicate this tomorrow evening,” Il Capitano said. You simply nod, giving him a quick bow before following his rules to the tee.  You carry the large bowl over to a nearby sink, drenching all of them in warm water. Your eyes notice a variety of different ingredients: apples, cabbage, potatoes, onion, mushrooms and carrots. As you wash off the things handed to you, you listen in on the starting conversation between Sir and the other two Harbingers. 

“Ah, a tad hangry aren’t we dear Captain?” Dottore said with a chuckle, the dull thud of an arm being slapped against armor. Sir joins in the laughter, but Capitano remains quiet. There was a lull in the laughter, followed by Sir’s clearing throat.

“As you know I have been keeping a close eye on expenses. I’ve noticed you and that Varka fellow are getting on well. Are you using that connection to be anything fruitful? Last I heard, Natlan and Mondstandt have an ongoing trade agreement you could leverage for entry. Of course, if Varka agrees to allow you to travel with,” Sir said, his tone serious. It was a certain tone to it, a ring to it you haven't heard before. Was this a tone of voice Sir used when talks to his colleagues were more business orientated?

“Ah, that lovely area. Awfully warm, like Sumeru. Well, Il Capitano? My plans depend on that answer of yours,” Dottore adds, his tone turning formal too. You hear an unfamiliar tone of chuckle, followed by heavy footsteps behind you. With the apples freshly scrubbed clean, large hands grab them. Within seconds, you hear a knife slice through each ingredient within seconds. You turn your face to see such skill, watching the towering man make quick work of the apples. You are curious as to why he was taking your duty, especially with how insistent he was at giving you said orders.

“Are you looking to make a mess of another nation, Doctor? Your stunt in Sumeru nearly cost us a gnosis! Creating a god, what nonsense,” Capitano spoke, sliding the sliced apple into a separate bowl. You turn back, focusing on washing things then handing them over to Capitano. 

“Ah now, quit hiding. It is your turn to grab the next gnosis, after all,” Dottore responds. You hear a foot begin to tap, followed by another. Next the carrots and potatoes were taken from you, followed by more intense cutting and cutting board sliding.

“A plan of that detail requires a great deal of planning. I do not wish to be as nefarious as you and Signora in your gains, Dottore. I plan to enter the nation, gain what we want, and leave. Simple,” Capitano said. The two seem to continue with their foot tapping, in sync, sounding thoughtful. You were starting to run out of things to wash. However, you were getting a sense that the bigger man had some anxiety associated with the coming mission he had. Il Capitano was avoiding the question, not giving details–even diverting attention off his own plans. Even if you were merely a conversational piece, you knew you had a part to play.

You hand over the last things to be chopped. You recall an old recipe your grandma had taught you at birth. Certainly with the four of you the salads would not be filling enough. And, to allow more time for Sir to get his interrogation done, you could pad the cooking time. 

“Uh, I have a recommendation! I have a recipe I wish to make. It is a stuffed meat roll. How about we use some of that meat hanging to prepare that?” you ask, turning to men. Dottore and Sir stop tapping their feet, turning to you.

“I see. So you do have some skill set on you. I will grab the dough. You will knead and prepare the dough for the meat. I will handle the other side of preparations. You are referring to stuffed venison rolls I assume?” Capitano asked, which you happily nod to. Finally–you two were connecting and you were proving your utility to them all.

“But, to recall from earlier, is the relationship with Varka essential to your current plan? If so, we would like to assist,” Sir asked. You hear an audible grunt leave Capitano’s mouth, reaching up high and throwing  pre-prepared dough at you. You catch this with ease, prodding the dough through the plastic wrapping. You gauge that it was only prepared a couple days in advance, based on the tackiness of the dough. Since the three men were covering most of the cutting area, you decide to prep over the sink. You slide over to the men, grabbing a couple of the cutting boards and sliding it over the sink. There, it clicks–perhaps the boards were meant to be used over the sink! You smile at this realization, unwrapping the dough as you prepare to separate it into smaller round balls. The Harbingers likely cooked and discussed details of their latest plans. With the ore preventing spies from listening to it, it was both a great bonding activity and way to utilize the time. 

“Pantalone. I know you will treat the plan with the respect it deserves. But, The Doctor–there’s not a doubt in my mind that he will sully things! He constantly changes plans, goes outside of our goals and,” Capitano explains, but is cut off but a slammed hand to the table.

“Do not trifle with me. I have gained two of the Gnoses we need, two. And did not lose my life as Signora did. If you can, please recall your rank,” Dottore replies, his tone bitter. You gulp at hearing those words, careful to make each ball of dough equal to one another. You figure thirty between the four of you would suffice, even if some ate none and the big man ate many. You were simply proving your worth here. Even if it meant being a pawn in the process. You were able to catch up on some of their plans this way, even if you were a bit confused on what they were collecting and why.

“Now, settle down shall we? Both of you have valid reservations about the other. There is no need to involve rank in these conversations either. We simply desire to learn of your plan to see if our needs overlap in any way. We can organize travel to reduce the amount of expenses we incur. Or, if you prefer to do this plan lone-wolf as you are coming across, a grocery list can be handed to you. Just a simple list of things that are in the crosshairs of other members,” Sir said. His explanation seemed logical and clear, with a simple goal in mind: efficiency.  You feel unnerved by the following silence only punctuated by the sound of chops. Swift, heavy bangs of the blade filled the kitchen. Your eyes had to focus on the dough and the dough alone. You were halfway there now, with one larger ball among fifteen modest sized ones. 

“Simply provide the list and it will be obtained. I feel that is a fair agreement,” Capitano said. His chops seemed to be making many patches of soon to be fried meat. You move your eyes over to the spice rack, noting you were much too short to reach the spices in need. You turn back to the dough, making quick work of the remaining half to be shaped. The atmosphere was calming down, the goals were starting to align with everyone–and soon their bellies would be full with food. This job felt doable, manageable–hell, you were starting to feel excited to see the remaining Harbingers! A small smile forms as you finish the last dough ball, turning to the three men.

“I require assistance to reach the needed spices,” you said. The three all turn to you, Sir nodding as he steps over to the pantry area. He kneels downward, signaling with his shoulder for you to hop on his back. You could hardly believe his offer, trying to find any other option in the room. The worst thing you could do would be hop on Sir’s shoulders and injure any part of him!

“Please, I insist you hurry. I am quite excited for today’s dinner,” Sir said, his tone holding that stern honesty. You decide it was the best you could do, climbing upon the others shoulders as he stood up with little issue. You use the pantry’s metal sides to help keep balance, plucking the needed spices from the area. You gently tap Sir’s head, his body lowering to allow you to hop down.

“I feel this has been a productive dinner already! Ah! My poor memory of mine, forgetting a key detail. I–” Dottore speaks, but another slice of door shows itself. Your eyes quickly turn to see another door. It was not nearly the size Capitano came through, but much smaller. A red haired man comes out, wearing a similar outfit to the rest. He shows you a bright smile, grabbing the spices from your hands and placing them alongside the cutting station.

“Seems like we got ourselves a new member,” the man said, his voice soft and sounding younger than the others here. Before you could introduce yourself, you feel Sir tug you along toward the cutting station.

“Ah, Tartaglia. I meant to mention your arrival earlier, but other conversations proved more urgent. New girl, Tartaglia. Tartaglia, new girl. She cooks, sleeps with Pantalone, and has a number of surprises in store for us I’d say,” Dottore said, gesturing over to you and then to the brown-haired male. Tartaglia–that name rang a bell to you. You wonder if you heard of his voice from your times working at the restaurant. Perhaps he was a frequent visitor or some customer that made notice to you before. Whatever that past connection was, was gone. Now he was just another member you were cooking for during tonight’s dinner. When you try to glance over the man’s face to jog your memory, he takes your hands into his own. You gasp at this, turning to see if Sir has a reaction to this too. He holds a plain, pleasant disposition. 

“I believe the new girl was just working on our main dish. Please, disengage Tartaglia,” Sir said. But the words weren’t with that typical, pleased notion. In fact, they seemed to show much irritation and displeasure on the surface. Was Sir…getting jealous?

Chapter Text

You hadn’t the time to decide what to do. Tartaglia held your hands tightly within his own. And, with Sir’s tone, he was not happy with the current situation. You struggle to get out of Tartaglia’s tight grip. You laugh nervously, hoping to diffuse the situation with some light conversation.

“I should really be getting back to preparing the dough for our meal. I will work hard for you, my dear Harbinger,” you said. You try to show sincerity by making eye contact, but the deep blue eyes of Tartaglia simply pierce right back at you. His grip does not lessen, no, it tightens. There was no pain, but there was no room for you to wiggle out of. You were stuck. And, at this point, you note the lack of gloves. You can feel Tartaglia’s coarse, thick skin directly against your own.

“Since when did we have the budget to hire personalized help? I wouldn’t mind a sparring partner,” Tartaglia said, winking at you. You shake your head at the thought, having no experience in combat. You open your mouth to reject the proposition, but the man is already on another tangent. 

“And what of our efforts in Natlan? Excuse me for my boldness, but dear Il Capitano, it would be an honor to be your traveling companion. I know of your exploits in Mondstadt, and if–” Tartaglia continued, but is soon cut off almost quite literally. A butcher knife comes speeding past you, narrowly missing your nose as it is now wedged into the wall. Your eyes follow its journey, gulping. You were certain to have difficulty with the new addition in tow. You barely kept The Doctor and Il Capitano from butting heads with Sir’s kind guidance. And now knives were being thrown? You relax your throat, attempting to straighten your stature as Tartaglia holds your hands hostage. 

“Ah, coy today, aren’t we? I’m afraid even for a well-seasoned warrior as I, a kitchen is no place to do battle. Especially on an empty stomach,” Tartaglia responds, unphased by the throw, “I assume that meat is ready for the seasoning?” 

Capitano simply nods, taking hefty steps away from the crowd. You feel your hands finally freed, body racing over toward the sink to finish your task.

“Ah, as irksome as ever. Do not mind him, boy. We have already agreed on a system of travel for the Pyro gnosis. He insists on doing the job alone,” Dottore said, stretching. His gloved arms seem to stretch up, his legs briefly balancing on his toes before returning to the original position. 

“It is simple. I come, take what we want, and leave. There is no reason for us to try to bring a fight to an Archon known for their combat. It would be like challenging a world class chef to a cookoff.” Capitano explained. You keep your focus on the dough before you, stretching out the dough to make room for the pieces of meat. You listen to the sound of metal clanking, the butcher’s knife from earlier being removed. 

“But isn’t there something romantic about it? Fighting for our efforts, proving ourselves? You are no opponent to be reckoned with. What is the purpose of sneaking around if we can settle what we want through the means the Archon would prefer?” Tartaglia said, the sound of steps growing behind you. You feel a hand snake along your waist, fingers inspecting the fabric of your dress. Tartaglia clicks his tongue, snatching the cutting board of dough before placing it closer to the cutting station. You listen to similar grunts you heard from the bulky man earlier, the sound of ‘tsking’ audible. 

“Boy. Do you hear the words you are saying? To challenge the Pyro Archon would be signing your will. And, as you know, I do not play dirty. So, get to what you wish to achieve from such a conspicuous methodology,” Capitano said, his words reverting to their bitter tone from before. You try to slice into the tension with words, but Tartaglia’s hands return to your waist. You look up with a scarlet blush, unsure of why the man was insisting on being so close with you. With how Sir’s tone was, perhaps Tartaglia was aiming to pester Sir more than anything else. 

“Now, let’s work together on this dish, to cement our ongoing discussions. The new girl will prepare the oil for frying. I will season this meat to perfection, dare I say. And you, Capitano, will simmer on the words I am about to say. What if we obtain this gnosis as a dual goal? To both show our purpose and display our power? And, to prove my follow through, I will share the intel I have discovered. Murata’s* pride is only matched by her ostentatious desire to prove herself and others that their nation produces the strongest warriors. For the last three decades or so, she has left her gnosis on display. It is located somewhere within the walls of Natlan, rumored to be in a colosseum. To foster strength and integrity, she challenges the world to face her in combat. Get this, she doesn’t use her gnosis at all. And of all the years she’s done this, she’s never lost. You think you could lose to an Archon that only uses a fraction of their power? I take that challenge in stride. If you want to sneak and grab the gnosis during our dance, you are more than welcomed to,” Tartaglia explained. You take the time that Tartaglia is committed to explaining his methods to obtain and prepare the frying oil, clicking on one of the ovens frying burners. Those hands around your waist stay. In fear of inciting another knife throwing incident, you try to nudge yourself further from him. But Tartaglia does not move an inch. You hear those similar, heavy footsteps approaching. You hear another pan clatter besides your own, on a different burner. You look over to see that the pot besides your own is already filled with water, a large hand patting your shoulder gently before moving back over to the cutting station. This patting is met with the departure of Tartaglia’s hands, his feet quickly following Capitano.  

“And when were you planning on sharing this knowledge, boy? This means we may need to move faster than anticipated,” Capitano said, your eyes following the large man. His colossal hands grasp the chopped potatoes, passing the others with ease. You begin to worry what was on Sir and Dottore’s mind, their mouths having been quiet recently. Your eyes scan over Sir’s stature, appearing pensive. Dottore matches that same thoughtful look, quiet, deep in thought with what Tartaglia had to say. You surmise that Dottore and Sir were too deep in thought to note Tartagalia’s handsy behavior. 

“Well, my prior suggestion was made more as a necessity than a request. Are you still set on going into the nation on your own, or would you allow me into your plans,” Tartaglia asked. You hear the sound of potatoes plopping into the water besides the oil, salt following. Capitano’s figure made it difficult for you to remain still, sliding over some to allow the man more room in front of the stove. 

“Well, with the new information. I am open to having one partner tag along. We should have a more extensive meeting tomorrow to review finer details. Thank you for the research,” Capitano said. You can hear Tartaglia scream out in glee, the sound of seasonings being shaken with joy. You hear the other two members' sigh. 

“Be sure to submit your expense request soon after as well. The Tsaritsa will be pleased regarding this development,” Sir said, his sleek footsteps approaching. You mind your posture, straightening your back and moving your hands along your back. There was still uncertainty on if this is what Sir wanted to begin with, but gloved hands tug at your zipper. You try to contain your confusion, but it slips onto your face. 

“Understood Pantalone. Girl, pay close attention to how I soften these potatoes. They need to be slightly tender, but still with bite. Otherwise, the entire salad will become undone,” Capitano instructed. Your eyes flutter from the oil to the water-filled pot, the potatoes starting to gradually boil. You nod, slowly, nervous about what Sir’s intentions were with that zipper.

“What a turn of events this has resulted in. Tell me, Pantalone, are those marks on the girl from some specialized training? I have never seen markings like those before,” Tartaglia asked. You now feel a new set of hands on you, smooth, skin-to-skin contact. You shiver at this, half distracted by the pot of boiling potatoes presented before you. You try to ignore the question, focusing on the task at hand. Capitano, fork in hand, prods a potato near the bottom of the pot. There seems to be a bit of resistance as the fork is removed. The fork is then passed onto you, which you try to replicate the exact movement. As your fork pushes through the potato, you feel some resistance. You exert some force to get it fully to push through it, hearing an exaggerated ‘awh’ leave Tartaglia’s mouth.

“Is no one going to explain how to obtain these markings? And, oh, look at those legs…that looks more surgical, however. Doctor, do you have insight?” Tartaglia asked. You hear Dottore erupt out in laughter. You remove the potato from the fork with some difficulty, Capitano turning off the burner. You move your head to see the state of The Doctor. He was still chuckling, a hand obscuring what little of his face the bird mask left uncovered. 

“How untrained you are in the art of marking, my dear Childe. Though I do believe the girl may have more endurance than you do, for pain that is,” Dottore said, clapping his hands, “She managed not to pass out during a surgery of mine. No anesthesia.” You can feel Sir’s grip on your zipper tighten, as if he was trying to zip up the dress more than it could go. Tartaglia’s bare hands stroke your marked shoulders.  You hear the younger boy hum, stroking your skin with great care. 

“I do take offense to that, Dottore. Perhaps some guided instruction would lend me the skill and knowledge needed,” Tartaglia notes, though you hear a gloved hand smack at the younger boy’s hands.

“Disengage in this conversation at once. The girl should be able to focus on her task, not your comments men,” Sir said, his voice raised. It wasn’t quite a shout or yell. Rather a louder comment, suggestion–an indirect order to cease. Capitano moves the potatoes off the heat, pouring the liquid out into the sink. You watch the steam raise from the sink, contemplating your situation. It appeared that Tartaglia was making a fool hearty attempt at playing dumb. 

“Is it time to plate the salad yet, Il Capitano? If so, can someone lead me to where the dining room is? From my understanding–” you began to say, but you are quickly engulfed with searing pain. The zipper Sir had been pulling onto proceeds to burn. This was not a burn of heat, but rather intense cold. Was Sir’s vision one of Cyro? You feel the shiver start at the base of your head, piercing downward toward your torso. You let out a groan in pain but manage to continue focusing on the oil. You dampen a finger with some water, splashing a droplet of it into the oil. The oil hisses at you in return, signaling that it was finally at temperature to perform the first fry. Your breathing becomes coarse. Your vision remains steady, but you could feel the cold jump into your body.

“Woah now! It’s not every day the banker decides to bless us with a view of his vision. And to use it to torture the help–you’re really making me feel as if I’m in leagues with villains here,” Tartaglia said, drawing a hand close to Sir. You hear hurried footsteps behind you, gloved hands grabbing Tartaglia’s. 

“I do not believe our comrade is in the mood for teasing. Please, set the table for our dinner eleventh Harbinger. I will follow you shortly,” Dottore said, his voice much closer than before. There is a temptation for you to turn your head away, but that would likely lead to more chaos. With so many powerful men surrounding you, all it would take was one wrong move. One movement of the head could result in a punishment, a scolding–maybe even the erasure of your entire position here. So, you continue onward, noting how Tartaglia scowls at the events. 

“Understood. Perhaps dinner time will allow more time for pleasant conversation. But first, I’ll drop these meat pieces closer to the oil,” Tartaglia said. You hear quick footsteps followed by a gentle thud beside the sink. At least fifty ribbons of meat cover the chopping boards. The slices were thin, thin enough so that you could include more than one piece in some rolls. You nod at the amounts, already sizing up the portions as you adjust the chopping boards beside you. The total of four wooden chopping boards covered the entirety of the sink. Two boards included the prepared dough while the other two had the slices of meat organized. Clatters of plates can be heard in a different area of the kitchen, feet shuffling about the room.

“Good oil temperature. Now, I think we should be ready to serve in about half an hour. What say you, girl,” Sir said, his voice dripping with that bitter tone. You frown at this. You were behaving to the tee, proceeding to deal with some intense environmental factors. You had a butcher's knife thrown at you–narrowly avoiding your nose! And yet Sir was acting as if you were not on your best behavior. You inhale sharply, trying to keep in all of your feelings. You need to carefully handle your emotions here. You had no doubt that Sir would dunk your head into the oil due to insubordination. 

“I will be sure to have dinner ready by then, Sir,” you respond, starting to drop several pieces of meat into the oil. You limit the initial fry to only a handful, as to not overcrowd the pan. Capitano’s eyes felt heavy on you, knowing the man would likely watch your technique closely here.

“Good amount of meat per fry. Be sure to let each piece cool before wrapping that dough around it. And, as a personal preference, plate them together. I am certain to finish what we may not get through,” Capitano instructs, nodding with each word he says. You were wanting to show you could behave, even with the frostbite-like feeling crawling throughout your skin. You use chopsticks to swish around cooking meat. 

“Will do,” you respond. You decide to keep it brief. The tensions were hitting a low again, your mannerisms directly linked to if it will rise once again. Your mind goes blank as your focus goes straight toward the food. You feel Sir’s finger rest along your collarbone. It hadn’t moved since you noticed the chilling sensation spread across your body. The motives behind such a move were still unclear to you. The most it did was prevent sweat from pooling on your body. The worst, well, it was already causing your skin to feel cold to the touch.

Before you realize, you are plating the freshly fried delicacies on a large plate. Using a new set of chopsticks, you arrange the set of 40 deep fried piroshki*.  Capitano had brought you a serving platter, making you reminisce of your waitressing days. Once the platter has been filled with food and sauces, you lift from the middle section to serve the hungry men. You nearly forget the salads, which Capitano holds a platter in each hand. He places one platter along your other hand and the last one along your shoulder. You manage to balance all three. With your eyes darting around the room, you recall that finger that still prods along your back. You see a large slice of door open where you previously entered. The symbol of tree nails appears upon the lanterns inside the hallway, likely Capitano’s emblem. You commit it to memory, noting it for reference. You could only pray that he would be as gracious with his assistance as this time in the future. 

You follow the broad man down the winding hallways, careful to keep the food balance. The wider halls lent to easier food handling, especially when it came to serving. Your prior employer operated on very little land, matching similar conditions as to here. You stop yourself from wondering too much if that was what made you qualified for this position. You note the change in scenery with a flicker of light, the hall widening. The same table from before is neatly set with cutlery, bowls, plates, among other items. You inhale, approaching the table with caution. It was the first time you had the ability to see the hallways change into rooms. It was a strange sight surely. One moment, it was just a hallway and lanterns. The next, a bright room with a table in the middle. You place each platter gently onto the table. You place the piroshki platter in the middle, putting a platter of salad on either side. You note the Harbingers take their seats, seeming to match their assigned symbols. You quickly jot in your memory Tartaglia’s emblem. The boy’s symbol appears similar to a narwhal of sorts. Your eyes scan the room, nervous, unsure of where to sit.

“Finally, food! Here I thought Capitano would behead the girl before she finished,” Dottore muses, quickly grabbing a bit of everything before enjoying the meal. Tartaglia and Capitano follow suit, with Sir’s finger still stuck to your neck.

“Seat,” Sir said. Your eyes watch, careful, noting any changes. An icy seat populates between Sir and Tartaglia. The style appears similar to the Harbinger’s, save the material it was constructed of. Sir’s symbol radiates along the back, inscribed in the icy sculpture.  You nod at the appearance of the chair, taking a seat as Sir likely expected you to. Once you take a seat, you are unbothered by the chill the chair gives off. You start to connect his preparations of such seating to when you were cooking earlier. Sir had been preparing your body for the difference in temperature. His lack of direction or honesty led you to think it was just part of the ‘play’ he mentions on and off. You take time to listen in close, noting any changes in demeanor or mannerisms as the group eats. You watch the group as they grab a bit of salad and meat, eating, silence filling the room outside of the typical food chow-down noises. 

“Tartaglia, let’s meet here around sunrise. We’ll finalize details of our plans for Natlan,” Capitano says between bites, wiping the visor of his helmet. You watch as the Harbinger does this, hopeful to see a glimpse of a face or proof the man was truly human. You note no change of how much you are able to see of his face, much less confirmation of his human identity.

“Understood sir! May it be too bold to ask for a sparring session as well? It–” Tartaglia speaks, but a hand bangs along the table. The items on the table clatter at Capitano’s hand motion. 

“Do not press your luck, my boy. One thing at a time,” Capitano responds, not even letting the other finish. A hearty chuckle comes from Tartaglia before he stuffs his face full, his composure calmer than before.

“Ah, you know him. Childe likes to press buttons, overly so. Even if he is to lose, the boy knows not when to quit. Only to press forward,” Dottore said, wiping his face with a nearby napkin, “Say, I think it’s a great chance to ask our new cooking lady questions. Question one, what blood type do you possess?” 

“Of course, you ask something like that. I would rather learn where she grew up, since I hear she’s from my hometown. Perhaps we were neighbors, or even past lovers?” Tartaglia interjects. You feel the brown-haired boy's foot collide with yours briefly. You feel his foot traverse from your foot to your leg, stopping short from revealing your undergarments. You blush at this, trying to focus on the food in front of you. You hear the 11th harbinger whistle at your blush, your fork quickly stacking food in your mouth. Talking with one's mouth full would be rude–ergo, more time for you to stall to give any of those answers. Tartaglia's foot quickly moves from its prior position, returning to his side. You hear an exaggerated throat clear by Sir, likely to indicate indirectly his distaste of Tartaglia’s movements.

“I already know both of those answers, so I will share. O negative, meaning she is a universal donor. And, if you must know, you did grow up along the same city-state lines. Similar ages, so it would not be completely out of the question to cross paths with one another. But it's best not to dig into one's past, no?” Sir answers. You were partly thankful he answered in your stead. But, you recall, there was another unspoken assumption laced in the latter’s statement. The implied statement–the 11th’s interest in you romantically. Though, that could just be viewed as Tartaglia’s way to rile up Sir. You focus on eating your food, recalling each Harbinger’s emblem, and staying out of trouble.

“What drew Pantalone to you, miss? He seems to have taken a liking to you. And, surely, you had to consider your old lifestyle against an entirely new opportunity. Though, I doubt the man gave you much choice,” Capitano said, a loud, deep cackle exiting the helmet across the table from you. You try to focus on eating, unsure if Sir would be kind enough to answer this question for you too.

The silence in the room grows. Your hope Sir will answer for you dwindles, as your eyes scan to see his curious gaze upon you. This made you nervous. How much detail were you allowed to tell, the information you were given, the series of events you had undergone–what to say first? To avoid awkward tension, you allow your silverware to fall onto the now emptied plate, facing the men before you.

“Sir is quite persuasive. He described the role and made it fit into my vision,” you reply, scanning the crowd for reactions. The Captain was hard to read, per usual, with Childe seeming to glow at such a reply. The Doctor was busy stuffing his face still, with Sir taking the time to focus on his meal. You hear Tartaglia clear his throat, pushing his plate  away from himself. 

“It’s obvious there’s something else going on. Pantalone’s meetings on Valentine's Days are typically one offs. You’re the first he’s ever felt confident enough to bring back here. And,” Tartaglia said, turning to you with a curious glance, “He seems to find it distasteful when I lay hands on you. So much so he’s left a barrier of elemental energy around you. This is the first instance of his vision I’ve personally witnessed.  Quite impressive. Perhaps I can test this barrier’s strength now!”

The sound of loud scraping fills your ears. You cover your ears as you yell out to the room. Your eyes search your surroundings for the source of the noise. A dual pair of water weapons clash against an icy barrier. You notice the ripple in elemental energy, taking a double take that you can actually see such a sight with your Visionless eyes. You continue to scream, needing to let out the pain you were in. The screeching felt unbearable, like nails against a chalkboard. You start to feel blood trickle from your eardrums, mouth hanging open as you run out of scream to yell out.

Your eyes watch the blades on the outer edge of the barrier. They seem to clash with the icy barrier but not break it. You can make out Tartaglia’s  eyes. There was bloodlust in there, determination, excitement. Was Childe like Dottore and Sir, finding pleasure in the immense pain your ears were experiencing? You hadn’t a chance to fully process this, cupping your ears as you feel drool slip past your lips. Your consciousness was intact, but your ears felt wrong. The sound around you–all that came through was high pitch noise. The sound is blurred some by the blood coming out of your ears, further by what appears to be a thickening ice shell. The ringing continues, but the scraping sound comes to a stop. Your eyes turn to Sir, who seems to hover a hand close to the barrier’s surface. Thick sheets of ice further encase you. The temperature difference starts to hit you now, too. You exhale to see your own breath in front of you. Cold fog cloaks your vision, unable to see much else besides silhouettes. You note the sound has completely stopped. And, following this realization, you see the ice around you shatter. As it shatters, you hear a maniacal laugh. A deep, boisterous laugh that echoes the room.  

“Hah. Banker. Your power. I want to spar,” Tartaglia speaks, deeply inhaling after every other word, “You. You get pretty intense when you’re upset. Perhaps I have been asking the wrong ones to spar all along.” Your eyes widen as they lower to what appears to be completely frozen hands. The blades you saw from inside the barrier had completely frozen over, in pieces, with bits of blood oozing from certain areas. 

“I am certain you understand the consequences of touching what is not yours, without permission no less. Consider this your final warning,” Sir said, his voice pleasant. The tone  defied the sight you were struggling to intake. Part of you became concerned of the Harbinger’s hands, or, if they could still even be called that. Tartaglia’s hands had narrow blades sticking up from his hands, blood dripping down to the ground. The shards of the barrier crack underneath Tartaglia’s feet, the boy struggling to stand still.

“Warning heeded. That offer to spar, still stands,” Tartaglia says, wincing as he shatters the remaining ice stuck to his hands. You surmise that Sir had the power to control blood when cooled enough, ergo the current injuries the fellow Harbinger was shown to have. You hear a deep, hearty cackle come from Capitano’s side of the table.

“Finally, the kid's got some sense. Still very much headstrong, but sense is starting to enter that head of his,” Capitano said, slapping his hand against the table. This results in the entire table shaking, your own shaky breathing easing at the sound of ongoings. You hear Sir chuckle, the corner of your eye noting how he seems unbothered by Tartaglia now.  

“Perhaps someday, when my power does not threaten the constitution of your weaponry,” Sir said, pushing his now empty plate away from him. Sir then turns to you, snapping his fingers. You stand back straight, even with small trails of blood trickling down your cheeks. You knew, being at his beck and call, was paramount. The chair that was underneath you shatters as well, leaving nothing but shards of ice.

“What a lovely dinner, only a few minor fractures to treat this time ‘round. Great first dinner, girl,” Dottore said, clapping, “Childe! Follow me at once to see the damage this time. Usually it’s someone else, but to anger the person that funds your trips? You get more daring with the day, my dear boy!” The Doctor proceeds to head toward a portion of the room, likely getting ready to go to some medical room to treat wounds.

“What can I say–I get antsy when no one around wants to spar. I grew tired of fighting the Agents and Mages. And all of you are impressive challenges, and yes, that includes you girl. I await the day when you and I cross blades, even if you do not hold a vision,” Tartaglia said, turning to wave toward you before running after The Doctor. The lantern-esque emblem glows a fluorescent green, a door slice opening before Dottore. The two Harbingers proceed to exit down the hallway, the sounds of their laughter echoing in your ears. There’s a slight ringing, too, but you chose to ignore it for now. How would the results of what happened tonight impact things, if at all, you wondered. Your thoughts fade as you hear the cacophony of laughter trail off.

“Good job, girl. It’s rare to see Pantalone so possessive. Whatever you do, keep doing it well, and you will outlive many militia units here,” Capitano said, “And keep that Tartaglia in check. He’s becoming more of a loose cannon each day. Surely your admittance of no combat skills were in jest, yes?” You feel the air get heavier in your throat. You note how serious of a tone Il Capitano used in saying that last sentence. And, to admit you had no desire to fight, would lose the man’s interest entirely. To lose Il Capitano’s interest would be to lose your only cooking lifeline here. You had to think of a response, quick, to fill the growing silence. 

“The girl has proven her strength just with her durability. Sometimes that is the difference between winning and losing in crucial battles,” Sir explained. You nod to these words but feel you need to answer too, based on how Il Capitano reacted prior when only Sir spoke.

“My utility is also my identity. Who would expect a well-dressed, soft-spoken girl of any nefarious action?” you ask, turning to smile at Il Capitano. You hope to sell this well, in combination with Sir's words too. It is quiet, but then, you hear heavy footsteps. The three-nail emblem shines to your right. You hear a cartoonishly loud yawn, followed by more heavy footsteps. 

“Ah, very well. I trust that your caretaker will teach you some basic self-defense. That, paired with your sharp tongue will keep you safe. I trust you will be up early to prepare our breakfast?” Capitano said, his body beginning to disappear into the opened hallway. You nod, keeping the smile on your face. 

“Yes, bright and early. Yogurt, fresh fruit, with a savory protein,” you reply, thinking of what typical morning family meal was for your prior restaurant. Capitano makes no further comment, his heavy steps echoing into the hallway closes in on itself. 

“The Captain won’t tell you he’s impressed. He just chooses to abstain. Seems you are fitting in well to our culture,” Sir remarks. You turn to him, feeling his gloved hands stroke along your waist. You lean into the softness, feeling his fingers trail the dried blood that traveled along your cheeks. You remain still, allowing Sir to use his saliva to wipe off the blood, his eyes inspecting your face, ears, and overall posture.

“We will turn in for the night. You will need some medical attention for those ears,” Sir said. You feel his arms entwine with your own. You relax at the feeling, starting to unwind from the events of today. All you knew was that the men meant business. They were looking at stealing from the all mighty Archons, and in turn, inciting chaos wherever they went. There seemed to be some power dynamics between them all too. Gathering these powerful things from Gods, gnosis you recall them say, must have been a difficult task. You feel Sir pull your arm, walking side by side into the next hallway. That similar, spiral in palm symbol was elegantly inscribed on each hanging lantern. You note how the colors and height were similar from your prior entrance. You keep your eyes open, turning your head and noting the spatial difference in the hallway as well. Once it had been barely wide enough for one person to let through but now wide enough for you to walk side by side. You take this in stride, perhaps a sign that Sir was pleased with your first day of work. 

You hear the start of Sir’s hum. The sound is pleasing. The nice, calming sound helped ease whatever nerves were left in your body. You grow curious if he would request you to close your eyes again. You take a risk and lean your bodyweight against his somewhat, hearing a soft chuckle interrupt the humming. The area around you gradually grows wider, opening to the room you visited once before. The metallic floor reverts to wooden flooring. Your feet drag along the wooden surface, enjoying every moment of it. It made you feel like you were home, after quite a chaotic day of events.

“Am I to your expectations, Sir?” you ask. Your curiosity was starting to get the better of you. And, now freed of the attention of so many others, it was time to please solely Sir. You feel his arm tug you along, bringing you back to the tiled bathroom. You note that the remaining latex suit is no longer in the trash. A nightgown is neatly folded on the closed toilet seat. 

“Let’s get more comfortable before discussing performance,” Sir said. You nod quickly at that statement, unable to read that as a good or bad sign. Sir moves to unzip your dress. You remove the dress with ease, unsure of where to put dirty linens.  You decide to fold the dress to your best abilities, Sir standing beside you. You hold the folded dress up to Sir, who takes it and returns to the bedroom. You stand, naked, unsure of what to make of today. With the help of others, you did complete dinner. Despite the ear bleeding and knife throw, you were relatively unscathed. 

You glance over the folded nightgown, observing its features. You reach out toward the fabric but stop yourself from putting it on. You hadn’t a clue what the ear medical care would require. And, not to dirty another outfit, you decide to remain nude for now. Your eyes watch as the bathroom shows a barely dressed Sir. His trousers began where his happy trail just began, tight, showing off all of his assets. You can’t help but take in these finer details. You feel Sir’s gloved hand adjust your head to face his own. Based on the material, you could tell the gloves he wore were of surgical material.

“Let’s get to caring for those ears, yeah?” Sir said, a smile on his face. You return the smile with your own. You hear rushing water from the nearby sink, followed by some plastic bags rummaging open. A bottle or two cracks open, followed by some dapping sounds.

“First, some alcohol and dry cotton balls. Then we’ll partially wrap them. Or are you to leave them be? Hmm, if I were certain that ear sore would not be present with Dottore, I would phone him in. No matter. We will do the basic care at least,” Sir mutters. You stay still, trusting Sir fully to clean your wounds. 

The initial discomfort of the alcohol-soaked swap goes away quickly. You can feel the alcohol burn your ears. You hold in your wince, staying still, being a good girl. You feel the next, dry swab soak up any excess alcohol, followed with a gentle cloth. Then the scrubbing of your face began. You remained still, smiling even. You did feel like a doll right now. But it was a good feeling–one of pride. You get the sense that Sir valued you greatly. And with each touch, scrub, stroke of that hand of his, you feel your worth. You keep the smile on your face, Sir continuing to wipe along your face for any dried blood. This goes on for several minutes, though to be fair, the routine appears to switch to skincare. You feel a few different products being applied onto your face. 

“Just about done,” Sir mentions, opening what appeared to be some clear jelly. Gloved hands dip into the contents, wiping it along your stitched legs. You hardly feel pain from the stitches. You consider that, with how stressful your day was, your brain was too busy surviving to note the pain from your thighs. You spread your legs wider, to allow for Sir to easily apply the jelly. Sir makes quick work of slicking the stitched areas with jelly, placing soft bandages on top soon after. You bow once you get a sense of the work being done, to show your appreciation. Sir turns his back to you, removing the surgical gloves as he tosses them into the trash bin. 

“Are you attempting to seduce me or are you just wanting me to dress you too?” Sir asked. You blush at those words. You were in no means trying to seduce, but the thought of Sir using his gentle hands to dress you sounds nice. You remain quiet, eyes moving from Sir to the nightgown beside you. You move your eyes back to Sir, but he’s already inches away from your face. 

You feel his lips touch yours, hungry, your hands struggling to find the tiled wall. You feel his tongue force entry into your own mouth. His arms scoop you up from behind. His hands feel along your ass, squeezing it tightly. You lean into the touch, becoming deadweight in his hold. Sir slams you against the tiled walling, a soft groan leaving your lips. Sir chuckles at that, pulling away to observe your features.  You stare back at him, ready for anything. You were excited to see what else the man was into, whether it was giving you more pain or treating you like a doll. Sir had managed to give you a life you could not anticipate. One that led you away from waitressing, the daily grind, the need to provide for yourself. This life, it was leading you somewhere dark, chaotic–and it was growing on you.

You feel Sir on your lips again, this time his teeth. You open your lips, thinking that’s what he wanted. But the teeth still bite along your lips. The pressure behind the bites were enough to draw blood, Sir licking up the droplets as they surface on your skin. You let out soft groans, not quite in pain, but knowing he enjoyed hearing your noises. You watch his eyes turn to your own, teeth gradually releasing its grip on your lips. You watch his eyes remain on you, arms carrying your body toward the bedroom.

Sir throws your body to the bed. You feel the softness of the bed as your body absorbs the shock, hands feeling the fabric. You barely have a chance to savor the texture before Sir appears on top of you, his trousers grinding against your bare sex. You take in the feeling, trying to close your legs for added pressure. But Sir grabs your thigh before you are able to fully close around his figure.

“Healing is important…though, I note your eagerness. Patience,” Sir said. You pout, showing your disappointment on your lip-bitten face. Puffing out your cheeks, and briefly sticking out your tongue, you cross your arms. Sir laughs at the reaction. You realize that Sir is not wearing his usual gloves. You take this chance to scan over his bare hands. They appeared delicate, soft, pale.  They were immaculately clean, with a neat clear polish on each nail. You try to find more details, but he soon leans his full body weight against yours, his arms wrapping around your body. You nuzzle your face along his neck, enjoying his scent. Sir seemed to even put on smell goods on his way to bed, the smell of lavender heavy on his body.

You rest your forehead against Sir’s. You pay attention to any slight movement. His groin grinds against yours, the feeling of his cock presses against you. There is a moment where you want to disobey and squeeze your thighs, but Sir is one step ahead. He shifts his body, sliding besides you and holds you close against his chest. You lean in, relaxing at the smell of lavender and his warm embrace. 

“Your performance was as expected. We are one step closer to our goal,” Sir whispers, planting soft kisses along your face, “Now we must rest. Your seduction act has failed, sorry to say. Planning for the Hydro and Pyro Gnoses is paramount. This is not the time to slack off and please our cardinal needs. Once the final details of Natlan have been settled, we will have more time for our play.” You nod as you feel more kisses trail your skin, your forehead, your cheeks. Sir was being awfully soft today. You decide not to mention it, wrapping your arms around Sir in turn. You feel your eyes close with ease here. You feel safe in Sir’s arms, his hold strong along your waist. That pleasant humming erupts from Sir’s lips, his hands moving to gently stroke your hair. You feel yourself ease in and out of consciousness, feeling safe–home. 

Chapter Text

The blustery winds picked up your scarf, obscuring your view. You struggle to rearrange it in time to assess your current situation. The snowy mountains and the rough terrain made simple trips like these longer. A jar of fresh cow’s milk in hand, it was your first and only errand for today. It was to be a quick run, with you returning so your mom can make today’s dessert. The town of Morepesok* had frequent windstorms such as these. You struggle to keep your scarf steady. Though, as your scarf waves in the wind, you hear the pitter patter of quickened footsteps in the snow.

“Look what we got here boys, a little girl out in a bad windstorm. What a shame the wind blew away her mora and shopping list,” a husky voice said. You blindly run forward, only to fall face first into the snowbank underneath you. The footsteps were gaining speed, with hearty chuckles from multiple men approaching. There was no limit to the number of bad thoughts flooding your mind. Despite living in a better side of town, taking the safer routes, the bad people managed to tail you. The conditions felt like they were worsening, the wind strong enough to blow your windbreaker half off your body. You hear the men grunt in response to this, seeming to charge forward even faster. You clutch the milk and what little mora remained underneath the snow, hoping they would simply frisk your coat. Deep down you knew this thought was naive. Rowdy men like these typically had worse in mind. Whatever they said would only be the tip of the iceberg. 

“Ah, what do we have here? Some silly old guys trying to rob someone on an errand? Tsk tsk. Guess it’s up to me to punish you,” you hear a voice say. The voice was younger, close to your age possibly. You remain entrenched in the snow, not feeling brave enough to see who could be attempting to save you.

“Grr, idiot kid thinks he can take us? We outnumber you, by six. Leave or we’ll–” the man started to say, but his sentence is punctuated by a scream instead of a period. You can hear the sound of shuffling, blades meeting, and more blood curdling screams. You try to dig yourself even deeper into the snow, but you find your hands are getting too numb to move. So, you stay and wait. The sound of clashing blades gradually declined, as well as the number of footsteps. You can feel your body getting number. By moving or trying to escape too early, would you ruin your chances of survival?

Footsteps approach you amid many moans in pain. The men from earlier seem to have fallen unconscious or are wishing they were.  You remain still, afraid of what is to come. Whoever had saved you had no normal strength. You stay as still as you could, uncertain, feeling unworthy of the strong warrior’s time.

You feel a hand grab you out of the snow, a gasp escaping your mouth. A boy, somewhere in his teens like you, had been observing your features. You face your savior as a smile pulls on your face. As the boy places you onto your feet, you immediately take his hand into yours, dropping the glass of milk into the snow below. You thank him, endlessly, for his fierce combat prowess. He seems unbothered by the praise, even showing a bit of annoyance by your thanks. His brown hair nearly covers his clear blue eyes, his mouth forming a half smile. By his pale skin and disposition, he appeared to be from these parts as well.

“It is no problem. I was looking for a good fight and these guys unfortunately won’t do. Take care now, miss!” the boy said, planting a kiss along your face before rushing off in a random direction. As you pick the milk from the snow below, you hear the men still aching in pain, some simply laying face down in the snow as you were. You watch as the brown hair boy runs off, sword in hand, off elsewhere. You try to place a name to him. You had sworn to see him around another time, when you were much younger, but  the personality didn’t fit the boy quite right. The name of his was on the tip of your tongue too. A…what? You knew the name had started with an A, but the remainder of the name was lost on you. Before you could focus on figuring out the boy’s name, you could hear his voice call out to you, from a distance. He was mentioning something about learning combat from him someday. He was going on and on about other things you should learn, too.

“By the way, you should–” 

“Wake up, my doll. It is your first full day of duty,” Sir whispers into your ear. Your eyes open quickly. You manage to mask the feelings of confusion that overwhelmed you. It was a vivid memory that came to visit your dreams. With all that had transpired in your youth, being robbed was one of the less worrisome memories of yours. But–that boy–he looked an awful like the Harbinger Tartaglia. Tabling the thoughts for later, you sit up and note Sir is already fully dressed. In his hands lay a dress. You note that it’s a plain, black button up dress. You take the dress in hand, stretching with a yawn. The fabric felt expensive, like a mixture of silk and felt. You head to the bathroom, Sir behind, to deal with your oral hygiene. Sir begins to detail you on some more insights of what the Harbingers are to do today, including times where he requests you bring meals or snacks. You commit these to memory, but also promise to write the times down as well. Besides having thought of a quick breakfast, you were now responsible for snacks and such too? You were starting to wonder if this position simply food prep and presentation was just. The job itself was simple–it was the Harbingers that were the difficult customer service portion.

You cannot shake the thought of having met Tartaglia earlier in your life. Combined with his overly friendly disposition from earlier, you could only assume it true. But how could someone as courageous and loving as the boy from your memory end up here? Why would anyone like that join the leagues of criminals? You brush your teeth, deep in thought, before spitting into the sink below. Sir does the same, brushing his teeth along with you.

“You’re awfully quiet today. Quite a shame, since we may not see much of one another today. Besides calculating the amount of funds, we will need from the coffers, I also must rebalance some items from Northland Bank. There are other items on my to-do list, but those are the major points,” Sir said, carefully flossing the gaps between his teeth. Based on how busy Sir would be today, it would make things ideal to learn more about Tartaglia. You dared not ask questions in front of Sir, in fear of inciting his rage from yesterday. Besides, it was high time for you to feel around the varying personalities the Harbingers had to offer. You take time to comb out any knots in your head, Sir plucking a few smell goods off the wall of product, spraying himself and you. The scent of glaze lilies engulfs the room. You had only known the smell from a certain seasonal special served during Springtime. The dish had been priced heavily, to offset the importing costs. The smell had followed you since, never being able to afford the actual flower but enjoying its smell whenever you had the pleasure of serving said dish. You begin to wonder if they would have any of them here, and if they did–could you recall that recipe? You inhale deep, taking in the lovely scent. You take a break in your morning preparations to take in the perfume. Your eyes close for a moment, trying to visualize the dish. You knew it was a soup of some sort it was served in, paired with tender local venison. The scent of the flowers went well with the semi-sweet sauce used to dress the meat.

The snap of Sir’s surgical gloves brings you back to reality. You open your eyes, noting Sir approaching. He gestures to you to remain standing. Quick hands wipe you down in a similar fashion to yesterday. The bulk of the time is spent redressing your thighs’ bandages. Sir finishes with a timely clap, nodding toward your dress. You take the signal to get dressed, slipping and buttoning on the black dress. The gold buttons made the dress look pricy, it likely was–but it was another item you did not recognize. You decide that Sir likely had an order of his own he placed, with respect to you needing much more clothing than a handful of dresses. As you finish your outfit with some stockings placed upon your unworn nightgown, you decide to assess what to do based on if you have company during any of your prep. Tartaglia sure seemed confident enough to approach you, so if the opportunity lent itself for you two to talk alone, you will gladly take it. 

“As an additional note, as you are serving, make note of anything of worth. Changes in facial expressions, requests, even if the folk deny said food. Any knowledge gained from you is something I can add to my own,” Sir explained. You nod to his words, Sir changing out of his surgical gloves into his usual, white pair. Now fully dressed, you give Sir a twirl. It was something fun to do, and you figure he would like to see his doll from all angles. Sir chuckles at this, grabbing you by the waist. His hand tugs you back into the bedroom. You note his symbol radiating above the usual spot, a slice of door opening itself to a hallway. You grab a small notepad and pen on your way out, ready to take notes of the ongoing events today had to offer.

“I will lead you to the kitchen and call on you when we are ready for breakfast. Now, if anyone comes in after I leave, I trust you recall your manners,” Sir said, tilting your head to face his own, “And if that pest Childe continues to bother you. Inform me.” You give a single nod as Sir releases the hold on your head. The two of you walk through the hallway together. You connect the symbols to the Harbinger’s ability to traverse around this hideout. You wonder if this held true for other hideouts you would see.  You keep your mouth shut for now. You did not want it to accidentally slip up and admit your plans for today. With how Sir was behaving now, it was unlikely it would turn out in anyone's favor if Sir learned of you and Tartaglia’s history.

Soon, the hallway reverts into the same kitchen you saw before. Cleaned, well maintained, with what appeared to be new ingredients from yesterday. Clicking your tongue, you walk forward, turning to wave goodbye to Sir. His gloved hands grip at your wrist, his face leaning forward to kiss you deeply. You return it, leaning forward as you feel his tongue invade your mouth. His hands slam you against a metallic kitchen wall. You continue to kiss him and want to question his motivations. If the entire point of not ‘giving into cardinal desire’ was to focus on work–what was Sir doing now? You pull away, noting the same verbiage Sir used on you last night. He erupts in a loud cackle before flashing a wide smile, patting your cheek. 

“Very well. Be good,” Sir said, turning to leave down the same hallway you came. The slice of door would soon close, you left alone to do your daily duty of cooking. You stretch, thinking over what protein you feel most confident preparing. Your eyes look over the hanging proteins, noting each one. The dried Salmon catches your eye, deciding a breakfast platter of yogurt, fruits, and salmon would be optimal. You look across the pantry, searching for some bread to pair with the Salmon. Your search ends up dry, even as you scale the tall metal shelves. All there had been is more of the dough prepared from before. Were they testing your baking skills–or just ran out of time to purchase bread? You sigh, wishing you had the authority to order the grunts around. You make a note to ask Sir for such privileges, or see if he would be willing to ask in your stead. 

You return to the floor, grabbing a couple bowls before scaling up the metal shelves once again. You grab a variety of fruit; sunsettias, berries, lavender fruit, and pears. You figure the variety would likely get eaten by someone, uncertain of the members tastes and preferences. You decide to use your notepad and pen to note any special dietary needs or favorite dishes.

You throw one fruit and another dough filled bowl onto the cutting area before carefully climbing down the metal shelves. You swear to yourself to ask for a stool of some sort next time. The shelves seem exclusively built for someone of Capitano’s stature. Even if he had been the primary cook, how did the other Harbingers reach the needed ingredients? 

You walk across the kitchen, searching for cutlery. You find a decent sized knife for the fruit you had to break down. In addition, you find a couple of platters to serve your breakfast on. The main worry you had regarding now had been time and time alone. There was no telling if you cooked a loaf of bread now, if it would be done on time. But that would not stop you from trying.

You unwrap the bread from the plastic casing, kneading it with care against the marbled countertop. You get the dough in the shape of a decent loaf. You then search for a decent cake pan, clicking the oven on to preheat it to 233 Celsius. You hear a clatter as you grab your loaf pan, observing how the varying objects shifted within the cabinet. You decide that the noise was a result of grabbing something, closing the cabinet.

“Ah, so the girl does as told. How boring,” you hear Tartaglia say. Your eyes quickly scan the nearby area, but you cannot locate him. You start to look under shelves, baskets, even the cabinet you recently closed. But there was no source of where the voice had come from. It was starting to worry you. Was the dream that strong, that impactful that you were hearing his voice now? You shake your head, deciding to ignore the voice for now. You were wasting time by focusing on such a random occurrence. 

You begin to wonder if one of Tartaglia’s powers had been the ability to speak in one’s mind. You walk to the refrigerator, grabbing a pad of butter to rub along the loaf pan. The butter would help make for an easy removal of the loaf when it finished cooking. You decide to take another look, from the upper cabinets down to the floor, for Tartaglia. You still see no sign of other people nor another door appearing. Placing the shaped dough in the loaf pan, you further shape the  dough to take on the shape the pan had. 

After several minutes, the oven chimes to indicate it is fully heated. You take your loaf pan and slide it into the oven, closing it soon after. You are quick to turn around, searching to see the source of the voice from earlier. However, you do not notice Tartaglia anywhere. Was your mind truly playing tricks on you?  You move back over to the cutting board. Picking up the fruits, you move toward the sink to start the rushing water.

“It’s not good to ignore your superiors, you know? I dare call it insubordination,” you hear Tartaglia whisper. The sound felt as if it were against your very ear. You already checked the room, from ground to cabinet, for the Harbinger.  You decide to chalk it up to your dream, causing such strange sounds. Or perhaps there was something added to the perfume Sir sprayed you down with earlier? You shake your head nonetheless, trying to escape the number of possibilities swirling in your mind. As you wash off the fruit, you struggle to keep your face down toward them. Even if Tartaglia was right there, you had to finish the task at hand first. You would look crazy if you were speaking to no one after all. You proceed to carry the bowl of fruits back to the cutting board, eyes quickly searching the area. There was no one–the room was completely empty. From left to right you scanned the kitchen with nothing but furnishing and food surrounding you.

You take a deep breath, telling yourself that there was no one here. Reminding yourself that it was simply all in your head. The moment you attempt to cut the sunsettia is when you feel heavy pressure on your shoulders, heavy enough for you to fall. You drop the knife on the counter to avoid accidentally cutting yourself. As you trip onto the metal floor, you see Tartaglia, hands planting down on either side of your body. You gulp. Was the Harbinger on the ceiling this entire time? And, if so, why did he decide to stay there of all places?

“You should be more careful. Always look at all of your surroundings. Otherwise, who's to say you will survive here,” Tartaglia whispers to you. Your eyes stare up at him. There was no emotion to his eyes, hell, there may even be a bit of bloodlust. Tartaglia’s hands stayed on either side of you, trapping you from any movement. Now was as good of a time as ever to question the man.

“Got it, but…why? Why did you stay on the ceiling instead of just greeting me on the floor?” you asked. Your eyes remain on the Harbinger, a pensive look taking his face. He hums as his hands move in to stroke your shoulders. A hand wanders toward the buttons on your dress, stroking the silky fabric as he does so. 

“Why not? Sometimes the call to battle can be unexpected–the element of surprise is always fun to practice on comrades. Wouldn’t you agree?” Childe said, a finger undoing one of your buttons. You try to move a hand to rebutton it. The hand that was rubbing your shoulder moves to pin your moving hand down, your body beginning to squirm. You try to make noise, cry out, but Tartaglia laughs at such attempts. 

“Your fault things got this way, if you ask me. Yours and that damned Pantalone. Let’s see how he acts when I mark his precious cargo,” Tartaglia says, the tone bitter as his lips approach yours. You struggle to move away, nervous, scared–frightened at what would become of this battle hungry man the moment Sir found out about this. You shut your eyes tight, hoping that one of the other Harbingers would enter before things got too far. It was one thing for Sir to handle you rough, treat you like an item, but Tartaglia was another story entirely. You had strong doubt that the boy from your memory was the man above you now. There was no way that boy from your past was him. Perhaps a sibling or a relative. But the boy who saved you would never do something as crass as this. Against your better judgment, you decide to bring up the memory despite your current thoughts. What was the worst that could happen?

“Look, I’m sorry for ignoring you. I thought it was just me hearing things, because of a dream. Just, let me get back to work,” you said, pleading. You hear a noise of intrigue leave Tartaglia’s mouth. A hand rests right where your cleavage begins, undoing the next button.

“Oh, dreaming about me already, hmmm? How about this: you tell me about this dream of yours, and I’ll happily let you get to work. How does that sound,” Tartaglia said, pushing himself back to his feet. You quickly do the same, nodding as you wash your hands off in the sink. It appeared that the Harbingers correctly marked this one as impulsive indeed. After washing your hands, you then find your path blocked by Tartaglia’s frame, a wicked smile on his face.

“Well? Do we have a deal, new girl?” Tartaglia asked once more, planting a hand on the wall beside you. You nod once more, sighing as you walk around.

“Sure. I lived on the border of  Morepesok and Taro. One day–” you began to describe, but an excited Childe interrupts. 

“Ah, good old Morepesok! That’s my hometown, you know? But, continue, continue,” Tartaglia said, following close by. You grip a knife as you begin cutting the larger fruit into bite sized pieces.

“One day, I was heading home in the middle of a bad windstorm. Some guys tailed me for some miles, deciding I was an easy mark to steal from. I wasn’t a strong kid, so I just fell to the snow and curled up. Some kid came forward and beat them all up before they laid a single hand on me. It was an odd memory,” you said. You continue to cut at the fruit. Once they were in small enough pieces, you arranged them on the platter beside you. Tartaglia snuck in a few bites of pear as he listened to your story, humming along.

“That is quite the story. Let me guess, the boy tried to train you. He even gave you his full name and where he lived. But, you never showed. And that’s where the story ends,” Tartaglia described. Your memory becomes clearer, but you distract yourself by cutting up the fruit. It was baffling to you that you met a Harbinger before their induction. Did the Fatui use mind control or some nefarious means to transform folks into their ideal candidates? You frown at this, wondering if the Tartaglia that stood beside you was just an empty shell. The memories were there, so were the looks–but the attitude completely reworked.

“You did finish the memory well. But I figure you hardly go by that name anymore. Besides, we were kids. And I got pretty sick soon after our meetings. It’s what got me here in the first place,” you explained. Soon after your 14th birthday your illness came on strong. It originally started with your parents, who died soon after they caught it. You continued to fight, despite the mounting medical costs. You went as far as getting medicine prescribed by some pharmacy far off in Liyue. While the medication worked, the cost was high enough to make you work the rest of your days. If not for Sir, you would be still waitressing right now. You place the lavender melon whole onto the platter, making it a centerpiece surrounded by smaller fruits. You had only heard of the fruit by name and picture in a book you had read, but never had to deal with it in person. You were fearful of cutting it wrong or making it unpleasant to eat. So, therefore, making it a centerpiece gave the breakfast a theme and an excuse to avoid cutting at the odd shaped fruit.

“Sick? Oh dear, my apologies. But you are better now, right? So there’s no excuse for you not to learn,” Tartaglia said, his hand pressing down into your shoulder. You keep your focus on arranging the smaller fruit now. You sigh at the man before you, annoyed, and fully understanding why the others were bothered by him. Tartaglia was quite the chatterbox–and had the audacity to watch you work instead of help.

“I am here to cook and assist with Sir’s desires. I have no need for that,” you said, trying to deflect the current conversation. But, as you finish arranging the last fruits, Tartaglia drives a knife close to your throat. Just with a brief glance downward, you note the fruit juices. You couldn’t even hear him pick up the knife ahead of time. Tartaglia was a swift one, a deadly man to make your enemy. You lean away, toward the nearby wall, nervous. Was he trying to intimate you into learning combat–or just enjoying your fear-filled eyes?

Your back laid against the metallic wall, throat feeling the threat of the knife. Tartaglia laughed at your reaction, leaning his face close to yours. You snarl your nose, face turning away from him. You exhale sharply, noting how Childe did not move the knife. A thin cut proceeds to bleed along your neck, your eyes glaring at the other. You feel the residual fruit juice mix with your blood, causing you to wince slightly. Something among the fruit must have been acidic, making your cut further aggravated. With the addition of adding some salt to the sunsettias earlier, you can feel it all blend to make quite a painful experience.

“Are you still certain? There will be many that resent you for your position, your rank. What if someone of lower rank tries to assassinate you? What if we get into combat against enemies? Are you still going to be tending to the cooking fire? Or will you fight alongside us?” Tartaglia said, his tone serious. Your eyes continue to glare at the other, heart beating rapidly. If the Harbinger wished now, he could kill you. The wrong words could compel him to do just that. The thought of such action made you nervous, yes, but also oddly turned on.

Despite the danger of the situation, you couldn’t help but feel aroused. Perhaps this fondness of danger was built into your brain. Was it the thought of the knife cutting in deeper, revealing more of the hot blood that rushed through you? You decide not to back down, staring right back at Tartaglia. As you walk into the blade, Tartaglia abruptly pulls it back, laughing. The blood from your neck continues to gradually fall along your unbuttoned dress. Your fingers feel against the thin cut, collecting bits of blood. 

“Now, this side of you I am excited to see more of. Are you preparing an attack or just being foolish regarding your movements? You were certain to kill yourself if I hadn’t moved that knife, you know?” Tartaglia said, feet moving back toward the oven. You continue to take slow, calculated steps toward him. It appeared that this particular Harbinger had a respect for boldness and bravery. And you were to show him both very soon. You remain quiet, continuing to take steps toward Childe. As you do so, the Harbinger continues to take a step back, watching your body for the slightest movement. You take a quick step forward, Tartaglia brandishing the knife before his figure. 

Your hand, as quick as you can muster, reaches for that knife, but meets another hand of Tartaglia’s instead. He laughs at your efforts, twisting your arm with ease. You let out a groan in pain, kicking toward the man’s groin. He moves away without issue, shaking his head. You can feel the arm twisting yours get stronger, your body kneeling at the sheer amount of pain. Mixed with said pain came a certain pleasure, your entire body feeling warmer by the moment. Sure, both of you were near a piping hot oven–but the pain was hotter than anything in the kitchen. You feel your breathing quicken, licking your lips as you stare up at Tartaglia.

“What an odd reaction. Surely you are trying to get me off my guard,” Tartaglia muses, his blue eyes observing your face. You struggle and fail to retain a moan, your nipples hardening at such lingering pain.  You see Tartaglia’s eyebrows raise at such a notion, pulling your arm with even more strength. You lean forward, feeling your forehead make contact with the closed oven. You let out a groan in pain, but keep it hushed. You dared not let Sir hear you in such a compromising position. And neglecting your cooking duties, no less. You bear with the pain, feeling the heat from the oven spread across your forehead. It was now Tartaglia got a better view of your breasts, seeming to note your hardened nipples with a whistle. His free hand reaches down to confirm his sights, taking liberty to grope each breast. 

You keep your head to the ground, the pain and pleasure mixing with shame. What a compromising position to be in–so helpless, so aroused yet completely in danger. You breathe heavier, feeling those hands on you arousing you further. The way his bare hands mixed with the slight drops of blood was making a red mess. There was even a wetness that was growing below, your legs squeezing together to hide that fact. You can hear Tartaglia chuckle, intrigued by your reactions as his hand swims around your breasts, feeling over your nipples and giving them each a squeeze. The hand that was twisting your arm gradually lets go, your hand falling limp to your side. 

“What an interesting person you are turning out to be. Perhaps sparring isn’t your cup of tea because of how your body views pain,” Tartaglia said, stepping beside your body. He cleans off the knife he used to cut you, dropping it in the sink. The Harbinger grabs a new knife. The sound of quick chopping fills the silence. In your head you curse, figuring Tartaglia was cutting the Lavender melon you planned to serve whole. You remain on the floor, struggling to stand upright. It wasn’t the pain in your arm that was keeping you. It was the fear of getting more pain and pleasure from that chatterbox. You groan as you finally raise to your knees, shaking your head. You proceed to check the fridge for some yogurt, which you find with ease. You grab the container, finding an ornate glass bowl to serve the yogurt in. While the arm that was twisted was still in quite a bit of pain with mild bruising, you were able to keep up with your duties. This was part of your job after all, preparing meals and dealing with the Harbingers' unique personalities.  You remain quiet, adding a nice portion of yogurt into the bowl you selected.

“So, are you just going to ignore what happened or..” Tartaglia trails off. You feel those blue eyes hot on you, turning your heel quickly to check on the bread. It appeared nearly ready, but you needed to check that internal temperature. 

“Does this place have a bread thermostat? I am assuming it does, since you never have any bread in stock,” you asked. You hoped by ignoring Tartaglia’s question, he will stop trying to pursue the topic at hand. You hear his footsteps move about the kitchen before stopping beside you, placing a white thermometer into your hands. You open the oven, placing the thermometer in the thickest part of the bread. The thermometer reads a solid 88 degrees Celsius, meaning it was just barely warm enough. You grab some oven mitts, sliding the fresh loaf out to cool.

“No wonder Pantalone is obsessed with you. No matter what, you just keep going. You got another set of eyes on you, for sure,” Tartaglia says, winking over at you. You shrug at it, sighing. Heavy footsteps can be heard from far off, echoey. You note that it was likely Capitano arrived to check on the status of breakfast. Your outfit could be somewhat excused by a mistake in cutting some of the juicier fruits. Or, maybe, an accident of you falling and nearly cutting off your head? No, that was far too silly. You make quick work of the fruit platter, ensuring the fruits were arranged and aligned with precision. You had to admit to yourself the cuts Tartaglia made to the fruit were even and generous. You search for a towel or some sort of cloth to clean off your breasts, however, none are hanging in their usual spot. You turn to Tartaglia, who had a handful of clothes in his possession, dangling them as if they were a prize. You attempt to run and grab them, but he moves out of the way just in time. You tap your foot, upset, but Tartaglia appears unphased. You decide to simply cross your arms for now, hoping your arms would be sufficient enough to obscure your messy bosoms. 

You could hear those heavy boots entering the kitchen, coming closer. You figured Capitano would stop by your first, but he instead stops short. You turn your head to see Capitano observing your bread. 

“Interesting. Fresh bread, not something I heard you rattle off last night. I’m certain you will provide us with some jams to eat it with too?” Capitano asked. Tartaglia stands in front of you, likely to help cover the bloodied mess he made of your breasts. 

“Ah, good idea! I think we’re nearly done here. How about I assist the young lady in bringing the items out this time, and you set for breakfast? I’m sure you got plenty of numbers to run by that banker, so, allow me to handle this,” Tartaglia said. You try to avert your eyes away, but still feel Capitano inspecting your body. You still doubted the larger man was a human at all, likely some form of Hilichurl mixed with human.  But now was not the time for that–hopefully, you had enough time to become presentable again. You hear those hefty steps move with his body, his helmet looking forward with no sight of his eyes. You hope that somewhere in that suit of armor Capitano did not note the redness of your breasts, the hardness of your nipples, nor the disorder your hair had been in. The worst thing that could happen would be another standoff between the Harbingers. 

“Agreeable to me. The girl seems to be catching on to things quite nicely,” Capitano said, the clattering of plates and other dishware being audible. You stay behind Tartaglia, still unsure of Il Capitano noted your reddened breast or cut throat. The sound of tableware eventually tapers off, the large man able to hold all items needed to set the table.

“Meet us in the dining hall after preparations are complete. What is your ETA, girl?” Capitano asked. 

“No less than fifteen minutes!” you said, bowing in hopes to obscure the view of your upper body. You listen as the heavy steps exit the kitchen, fading off in their typical echoey manner. 

You stand up the moment the sound of those shoes are gone, moving to slide the baked loaf off onto  a serving plate. You match the plate with a bread cutter, turning to the fridge to find whatever jam may be in stock. 

“You really think those tits of yours will be cleaned in fifteen minutes? I mean, if you had my assistance, I am certain you would be done quicker than that. You wouldn’t want your little ‘Sir’ to get derailed from his job after seeing your disposition. How unfortunate. You could be discarded after that, you know? You, who had given up your old identity to be here…what a pity,” Tartaglia said. Those words were getting bitter again. And, you hadn’t the time to figure out exactly how Sir would react. All you knew was that it would involve you in the crossfires, mixed with whatever power struggle that was already going on before you came here. You hurriedly grab a couple different jam options, pouring them out into smaller receptacles. You manage to get the bread and salted salmon on one platter, and the rest of the items on another. You had to be quick. You figure you spent some of your time just doing your job. And, well, the sink in the kitchen wouldn’t be a great place to wash yourself. You turn to Tartaglia, sighing.

“Is there any way you could take us briefly to Sir’s room before the dining hall? The–” you ask, but feel his hands lift your body with ease. The pieces of cloth from earlier are discarded onto the floor. Even with you putting your entire weight on Childe’s capable hands, he makes easy work rushing toward his narwhal hallway. The lanterns were the same, but the inner color of the hallway seemed strange. Fluorescent blue light lit the entire hallway. You shut your eyes, pained by how bright the light had been.

“Well, Harbingers cannot enter each other's rooms. The other would need to be present. But oh boy, my room is quite fabulous! The shower should have the proper amount of water pressure to get that blood off easy,” Tartaglia explained, a strangely excited tone to his voice. Was he truly inexperienced with other women or just putting on the innocent boy act for brownie points? You did not let this shake your resolve. You just had to wash up, no need for the full-on shower.

“A shower is not needed. I just need to wipe down the area. Sir will know if I’m not wearing the same perfume as him,” you said, huffing after. You hear Tartaglia laugh, his nose rubbing along your neck. You crook your neck in response, trying to deny his strange desire to smell you. 

“Oh, this Glaze Lilly stuff? I have it too! There’s no escaping a nice group shower, girlie,” Tartaglia said, nipping your neck with his teeth. You grumble at the feeling, trying to hide how it really made you feel. Soon, you feel Childe drop you down onto a carpet floor. You open your eyes to a new room layout, one that was much different than Sir’s. You scan the room from right to left, finding the tiled bathroom in the same area as Sir’s.

Starting with the left section of the room lay a multitude of beat up black foam matts. You recall Fontaine being one of the only regions you could find material like that. An old server you spoke with used to perform a variety of stretches and yoga on them. While the material was quite expensive, you knew they were known for their firm and soft texture. With Tartaglia’s constant desire to spar and fight, you surmise he had an equal desire to continue on his training even in the bedroom.

You note his bed besides the matts, much smaller than Sir’s. Against the bedding had been several different metal contraptions. You hardly could figure out what each were, only assuming they were more materials for training. The final wall that was shared with the bathroom entrance had a variety of pictures, including what appeared to be one of Tartaglia’s family. A variety of photos shown, with many different folks. You feel a tug to your arm before you are able to more closely identify each person in the photo.

You feel a similar tiled flooring to that of Sir’s room under your feet. Before your eyes could take in your surroundings, you feel Tartaglia make quick work of your dress buttons. You try to swat him away, but he’s already removed your dress. You let out another loud sigh, taking off your undergarments with a grumble.

“Once you're squeaky clean, we’ll return to the dining hall. As if nothing ever happened,” Tartaglia said, removing his clothing too. You avert your eyes elsewhere, mumbling about why he had to shower too. Hearing Tartaglia’s laugh, you can only assume he picked up on your mumbled words.

“Ah, well, it would be unfair of you to shower here without me joining you. Besides,” Tartaglia said, walking toward you with a lofa in hand, “It’s more fun when you have someone to shower with.” You roll your eyes, allowing the Harbinger to wash off the blood and other portions of your body. You make passive mention of your stitches, to which Childe simply scoffs at.

“Pantalone must really see you as a doll or something. One day should be enough for wounds like that to be safe for showers. You don’t come across as the sensitive type, either,” Tartaglia responds, leaving a line of kisses down your jawline. You grumble at the feeling, trying to pull away. The Harbinger simply holds you tight, making it difficult to squeeze away. You feel his lips move back up your neck, ending with a kiss along your lips. You try to deny his tongue entry, but he forces his way in. Tartaglia gives you a deep, passionate kiss. You wonder if the man was trying to come off as romantic, but your thoughts are stopped as you feel his hands wander elsewhere. You hear the lofa drop onto the floor. Tartaglia’s shifts, moving so his body is directly in front of yours. His mouth does not part for yours for a second, his teeth biting at your tongues. There was this helpless feeling coming again–matched with your arousal. You would bite your tongue if it were not already bitten by Tartaglia. You feel your body shiver as several loud slaps hit your ass. You groan into the Harbingers mouth, his hands continuing the assault on your ass.

Your knees began to feel weak. Those slaps held quite a bit of power, your lips unable to withhold moans of pleasure. You can hear Tartaglia’s moans too, though muted by the sounds of the spanking he was delivering to you. You lean against his frame to avoid falling over completely, feeling his groin rub against yours. You can feel Tartaglia switch hands, the bare hand now slapping your other ass check. You moan even more, unable to pull away or escape. You were helpless. You had no hopes of escape. And you are absolutely too aroused to do anything about it.

You feel Tartaglia grind against your sex, his lips parting just long enough to admire your hardened nipples and drool-filled face. You try to look away but feel Tartaglia jerk your body forward onto his again. You gasp, arms wrapping around his frame. Tartaglia was getting closer to his goal of marking you, making you his own, disregarding Sir’s warning entirely. You wanted to give in badly, allow the man holding you now to take what little remained of your purity. Your eyes look up at Tartaglia’s with a longing, a desire. 

“Someone’s warming up to me quite quickly,” Tartaglia teases, his lips returning to your neck. You can feel his teeth sink in quickly, letting out a loud groan. You wonder if it would leave a mark, and if so, would Sir be able to distinguish it from the other marks from the other day? You let those thoughts die as you fall prey to the arousal ready to burst in your body. Your legs try to wrap around Tartaglia’s, but his hands swat at your legs. The bandages that were there before became weak with the amount of water that washed over them. You could feel them start to peel off, one by one. 

“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you? We only have about five minutes left. We’ll save some of the more intense combat for later,” Tartaglia said, pushing your body away. You pout, crossing your arms. Suddenly the guy who was all over you had become so entrenched with time. You found it unfair he got you so riled up, so ready to want him too–only to reject your advances. 

Tartaglia moves to cut the water off, and then, towel dry you. You then are quick to realize something important. Of all the years, of taking care of your well-being and upkeep of your own health–you were still a virgin. You blush at this realization, hoping that none of the others would learn this fact. Tartaglia catches your blush, looking up at you to pat dry your hair.

“Awh, is it now that the server girl feels bashful?” asked Tartaglia. You shake your head ‘no’ furiously, pulling a smile onto your face. You try to deflect the conversation off as being a bit of an airhead. Tartaglia decides not to think much of it, dressing you up and spraying you down with that same Lily glazed scented cologne. You felt terrible for lying like this. But what other choice did you have? You could only imagine how mad, disappointed, or even jealous Sir would be if he saw you now.

The last thing Tartaglia does is redress your bandages, clicking his tongue. He is quick to dress himself, this time with a more casual outfit than before. His Hydro vision hangs from his gray pants, matched with a gray blazer. A small slit is cut in his blazer, where his Hydro vision is most prominent. A long, flowing scarlet scarf completes his outfit, as his fingers fit nicely into black gloves.

“One more matter we must discuss before heading back to the kitchen. Are you truly uninterested in the ways of combat? Or are you simply afraid of what would become of you,” Tartaglia asked, getting close to your face. You blush, unsure of how to answer. That memory of him as that kind boy resonates deep within you. You knew the Harbinger that stood before you was not that boy anymore. But the memory was still ringing clear in your head.

You feel his lips trace your cheek, leaving a plump kiss along your cheek. It was just like how he left you all those years ago. You raise your arms to hug Tartaglia, only for him to push you away. 

“I want your answer, before anything,” Tartaglia said, his tone becoming serious. His eyes narrow at you. You nod, trying to muster up the courage to give an answer to any capacity. 

“Will you be my teacher,” you ask, unsure of how the whole combat training thing will work. You see Tartaglia’s blue eyes light up with excitement, his hands taking in yours. 

“It would be my pleasure, my dear girl. But first, we should head back to the kitchen. If we don’t deliver breakfast on time, I’m afraid I won’t be able to be your teacher if I’m too busy fighting Pantalone,” Tartaglia said, laughing before planting another kiss along your cheek. The affection felt closer to what you expected romance to be. But, the doting and small acts of affection from Sir still felt similar, in its own way. Perhaps instead of just ‘play’, Tartaglia saw you as more than that, as someone else entirely. 

Just as Tartaglia begins to wander toward the hallway, you grab him by the back of his blazer.  You had to get an answer to one of your burning questions before it became too late.

“So, you are the boy? From my hometown?” you ask, wanting to confirm it rather than assume. You hear him chuckle heartily, his frame turning toward you. You feel his arms scoop you up into a hug, leaving more kisses along your face.

“Of course! But, now’s no time for reunions. And not a great time to kiss and make up. We’ll talk more when you bring me snacks later, okay?” Tartaglia said, a warm smile stretched across his face. You smile in turn, feeling a warmth grow in your heart. Was this the difference between whatever ‘play’ was and true love? Could it possibly be that all these years of medical treatment and debt led up to meeting with him once again? You nod to the other to carry you across the hallway, uncertain of where this future would lead you.

Chapter Text

You were still coming to grips with your reality. Tartaglia was an old friend–a neighbor of all things–that was recruited onto the Fatui. As you walked beside Tartaglia, platters in hand, you were growing more curious by the minute. You mentally recall the list of orders and times which you had to deliver. Without a clock, however, it would prove difficult to deliver these on time. What was the point of the instructions from earlier without a watch or a way to tell time? 

You take a moment, while in Tartaglia’s hallway, to adjust your posture. During the moment which you are adjusting yourself, you note a detail you missed earlier. Instead of being kept neat inside of your stockings, your bandages were loosely tied. You gulp, realizing this far too late. You had already grabbed the food platters from the kitchen, making your way to the dining room. Before you can muster the bravery to ask what Tartaglia had done to your stockings, you were in a familiar dining room.  You could sense the room change around you, the sight of familiar Harbingers sitting in their usual manners. 

You could still feel the red bruising mark upon your shoulder, visible on your neck. You could only hope that Sir had his focus on the right things. 

“Oh boy, not a second late she is! You may have found a decent cooking girl, my dear Pantalone,” Dottore spoke, laughing. Capitano simply nods in agreement with Sir’s eyes directly on you. You did have Tartaglia to partially thank for the timing. Or was he more to blame? He was the one who caused the entire cut and blood mess to occur either way. 

“Very good, breakfast is served right as our meeting begins. I trust you have not forgotten your manners, girl,” Sir said, his tone turning bitter at you. You could feel your heartbeat quicken. Did Sir’s sharp eye already note your new marking and the absence of your stockings? Your eyes glance over to Tartaglia, who showed an easy going disposition. You nod and try to explain, but are easily cut off by the chatterbox.

“The girl is incredibly respectful! She even talked me through some of the finer parts of our plans in Natlan, great listener too,” Tartaglia responds. He gives you a wink as you place the platters in the middle of the large rectangular table. Where would you sit today? Your eyes glance back over to Sir, who seemed to be looking lower than usual. You try to shuffle closer to the table, to hide the obvious fact of missing your stockings.

“And where are your stockings, girl?” Sir asked, with Dottore whistling soon after. 

“Maybe they got lost in bread, whilst cooking? Hah, of course not! I feel that Tartaglia may have something to do with that,” Dottore adds. The Doctor was not helping with his jabs, but you did need to give them some sort of answer. Your eyes look over the smiling disposition of Sir. If you had learned anything from your past weeks with Sir, it is when his smiles appeared brightest…meant he was the most displeased. 

“Why are we speaking of stockings? The meeting is about our plans for Natlan. We have reviewed–” Capitano began to explain, but the loud clattering of silverware clanking against each other interrupts him. Eyes turn to Tartaglia, who  had been banging together different types of silverware beside you. 

“I have a plan. Buuut, it would involve getting the girl into some minor enemy territory. Say the girl is dropped off at the gates of Mondstadt. They are usually welcoming to all, right? Say she has a Fatui emblem carved into the ski–” Tartaglia proceeds to explain, but Sir slams his hand against the table, shaking his head.

“You interrupted another member and are involving someone hired on for cooking with a crucial plan as this? Are you listening to yourself, 11th?” Sir asked. His face appeared calm, but one could tell from his words he had been upset. The other Harbingers simply remained quiet, grabbing their needed forks and food they had desired. It was now you took out your notepad and pencil, noting each fruit those had grabbed first. If anything, doing your job right now would save you from unneeded struggle. And, if not, you still had the information needed for future references. You choose to abstain your own thoughts from the ongoing topics, listening closely.

“For your information, I do hear myself clearly. If you allow me to finish, Pantalone, Il Capitano, Dottore–you will hear me quite clearly, yes?” Tartaglia said, making knowing glances over at the three Harbingers he mentioned. All nod in response. Sir’s face was still showing that pleasant smile, but you knew inside he had been reeling. Tartaglia had managed to change the topic from your missing stockings to the current topic at hand. At least the derailment of the meeting ceased, but tensions still felt high. You remained standing, in fear of asking for a seat. You knew Sir would ask a question right back at you–demanding to know where your stockings had been. Dottore had been focused on the meal at hand, stuffing his mouth as his eyes showed interest in the ongoing discussions. 

“We carve the Fatui mark to drag out one of our major enemies, Diluc Ragnvindr. If we’re lucky, one of their outlanders will find the girl first. The outlander will likely spread rumors throughout the town. That will gain our enemies interest as he will likely keep close tabs on what the Knights decide to do with the new girl. We adjust our plans as we go, learning more about their plans and executing our own in tandem. The eventual goal is to use Mondstadt’s travel plans to our advantage. If we hear they are to head to Natlan, we follow. If they choose to avoid it or closely guard the perimeter, we break down said perimeter and have the nation to ourselves. Sounds good so far?” Tartaglia explained, standing as he gestures toward you constantly. You begin to realize the Harbinger’s desire for you to learn to fight likely stemmed from this plan of his. But, as you stand, nervous, your eyes try to gauge a reaction from the sitting members.

“Possible. But risky. What if those fellows don’t take the bait and leave the girl out to wander? Do we just let the girl waste away?” Capitano asked, “And how are we to make contact with the girl while she is stationed elsewhere?” You hear The Doctor clear his throat, standing up with a smug look on his face. Dottore glances over to Sir, who simply nods at Dottore. 

“I have an answer to your last question, dear Capitano. I am currently in the midst of testing a communication tool with the girl. We have performed a successful surgery as of yesterday. My time in Sumeru, while some may not find it as fruitful,” Dottore said, clearing his throat as he glares over at Capitano, “We have gained insights on communication. Their Akasha terminal system is now discontinued, but I have gained true insights while it was in operation. The Akasha terminal utilizes the user's nervous system to learn, spread information, and gain insight on each individual. I have created and put in use our prototype, called Splinter, into the girls’ nervous system. It was quite the brutal surgery, needing the individual to be fully awake and conscious. Otherwise, the communication system may not bind correctly. But, ah, I am getting besides myself, aren’t I?”

You originally chalked the device up to some mechanism to cause pain for you. But–for it to be this–this communication system? It was like you were some sort of double agent in a fancy spy play. That was completely out of your job description. So badly you wanted to speak out, disregard such talks, but knew better. That damned boy stole your stockings, and you knew, it was all part of his master plan of doing what he wished of you. It was wrong of you to trust his intentions of desiring to shower you down, talk you up with such sweet words. You decide to take some food for yourself, grabbing some berries and pears. You scrub some jam onto a few pieces of toast, pulling it toward you to eat. You try to listen to Dottore’s complicated science word soup, but it was hard to focus on.

“Either way, that’s the science behind it. The short of it is, we should be able to speak with the girl inside of her internal monologue. As you all are likely already aware, those thoughts aren’t vocal. Untraceable. And the perfect way to communicate information without a paper trail. I believe that system should be online tomorrow at some point, so feel free to give it a try. We’re limiting the number of members who have access so as not to overwhelm our precious test subject. As she grows in strength, we’ll add everyone eventually. Consider it a communal communication kiosk,” Dottore said, bowing as he finished his explanation. A flurry of claps follow, you joining in belatedly. You were unsure if you should be clapping. They were excellent liars and withholding just the right amount of information. No wonder they were some of the most renowned criminals in Teyvet. 

“Very good, Doctor. You may have outdone yourself with this test. Given all of that information, I’d love to get the plan in motion within the next month or so. Thoughts,” Capitano said, gesturing to the group. It would leave you with a month of training with the stocking thief. That would be if Sir decided to allow that to even occur. 

“Sounds reasonable to me! I have another suggestion, if I may! We should teach the girl some basic combat moves, strategies, for if she’s in danger,” Tartaglia suggests, shoving some more pear pieces into his mouth. You hide your laughter with your hand, your eyes looking over to see the state of the others. Dottore was chowing down much of the same, along with Capitano. But Sir hadn’t touched his food. He had grabbed some fruits, some bread, but did not take a single bite. Was Sir that upset at you? 

“Great suggestion, I assume you want to take the reins on that part?” Dottore said, wiping his face as he finished his plate. Tartaglia nods, his blue eyes checking around the table for any objections. 

“Ah, my stomach has gone sour. It seems we are at least at a tentative date for Natlan now, yes? A few months from now, three max?” Sir said, that shimmering smile hiding his boiling anger. You gulp at the sight, shivering. Part of you felt excited, eager to face whatever punishment Sir decided for you. And, that bit of nervous you felt, was completely tied to his attitude moving forward toward you. 

“That sounds reasonable to me. That should give Knave and the rest time to retrieve the Hydro Gnosis from Fontaine.  It would be awful if we spread ourselves too thin after all,” Dottore said, propping his feet up on the table. You could feel Dottore’s gaze hot on you, your eyes rushing back to Sir’s grin. You note him grabbing his plate, standing abruptly. 

“Ah, yes, that would not be good. I will write up the budgets and place the money in your expense accounts by the end of the month. I will return to my quarters with the girl,” Sir said, his symbol showing on the other side of the room. You stand, quickly walking over to be by his side. You feel his arm tightly wrap around your waist, handing you the plate to carry. 

“Awww, and here I expected you and girlie to hang out for some fun. Well, training starts to–” Tartaglia said, but Sir uses his free hand to snap. A large, frozen spear forms above our figures, pointing directly at Tartaglia. Your eyes turn to see the 11th’s Harbinger’s response. There the boy stood, water blades out, in a defensive manner. 

“First you must prove to me you are trainer worthy, Tartaglia. I’ll add the disadvantage of not letting go of the girl,” Sir said, that arm around your waist tightening. You gulp. This was quite the turn of events. You feel the nearby temperature dropping. You could see your breath right in front of you, white smoke. If this was Sir when he was angry, you hoped never to be on the other end of that spear. 

“Dinner and a show, marvelous!” Dottore said, the sound of a chair being pushed. You avert your gaze again, seeing Dottore push his chair to one of the corners of the room. Capitano laughs, lifting the table with ease into the same corner Dottore had placed his chair in. Il Capitano made quick work of moving the other chairs, too, with Tartaglia dancing around in a frenzied battle stance. 

“Exactly what I’ve been craving, a real battle, this is gonna be so much fun!” Tartaglia exclaims. Your head remains turned toward the action. The ice spear lunged toward Tartaglia. The air surrounding the spear plumes an ashy white, as if it were on fire. Tartaglia notes this, narrowly avoiding being pierced. His dual weapons switch to a spear of sorts, made of Hydro energy. The tips were made of darker water, looking sharp as a tack. Tartaglia was moving so fast you could hardly trace his movements, moving toward you quickly. You take a quick look up, seeing several smaller spears form and throw themselves at the moving target. 

You hear a shout from Tartaglia, one of excitement–and in pain. You noticed a large gash along Tartaglia’s leg, white ice forming right where the wound had been. You could hear the boy laugh maniacally, a dark essence encircling him. Those less formal clothes transform into something you had never seen before. A cape of stars matches a mask, and a purple pulsating spear. Black boots move even faster, coming inches  close to your face. You move  your face back, nervous. 

Ice spears continue to shoot at Tartaglia, but  explode into shards of glass. Any shards coming toward you shatter into more pieces, raining around your figure. You could hear Sir laugh at this, shaking his head. 

“Really, a form known to chip away at your life, you use during a spar with me? At a disadvantage? Step aside, girl,” Sir said, removing his hand and pushing you away. You rush toward the other end of the room, sneaking over to a corner. You could only hear the sound of weapons clashing, grunts, and maniacal laughter. 

“You, you are so strong. Why hide it? It brings me so much joy you are taking me seriously now!” you hear Tartaglia say, but his voice sounded deeper, muffled. You could see from a distance Dottore with a bowl of popcorn somehow, offering some to Capitano. Capitano declines, seeming more interested in the fight itself. 

The fight was hard to trace. One second, they were mere feet away from you, clashing weapon against weapon. The next, they were crossing the room, trying to inflict mortal wounds on the other. You bite your lip. You can’t help but feel responsible for the entire mess. You know Sir made it about being able to train you, but was it really about that? Part of you knew it was fueled by the missing stockings. Another part, perhaps pride or ego or some sort? It was hard to reason with such madmen you were in leagues with.

“Your pride is your weakness, my dear Harbinger. If you surrender now, I promise you will be fine. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you are healing until your departure to Natlan,” Sir said, his form changing too. His usual, pleasant disposition was turning more serious. That smile was replaced with an icy mask, paired with some ice-formed sickles. The pair of sickles were attached by chains of the same icy material. With each throw, the sharp blades came narrowly close to hitting Tartaglia. 

“Never! I want to see the full extent of your powers against mine! A real teacher shows by example, and with this, I will see your true strength,” Tartaglia responds, trying to drive his spear into Sir. Sir avoids it with grace, jumping into the air with elegance. Sir swings the chains in midair, the sickles moving quickly. A slice is made right along Tartaglia’s back, one of the icy tools digging into the cape and past what armor that appeared to be on Tartaglia. A scream is made, but Tartaglia does not stop moving. He pulls at the chain that connects the Sickle, forcing Sir closer to him. A jolt of electricity runs along the ice, causing Sir to drop his weapon with a cough.

Bits of blood spew from either end of Sir’s mask, his sickle now on the dining room floor. You could hear some cheering from the other end of the dining hall, followed by a wicked cackle.

“Now this is cinema at its greatest!” Dottore said, clapping at the ongoings. You were starting to understand just how mad the men in this room had been. Using weapons that ate away at their lifespans, fighting to the death for a simple task. Tartaglia grips Sir’s sickle weapon, proceeding to swing it with such gusto. Sir remains there, standing, hunched over. The blood on his mask is growing. You gulp, shaking your head. All you had wanted was a peaceful ceasefire but it was far past that now. The two were starting to injure themselves beyond repair.  Unless someone stepped in, or one gave up–someone may end up severely wounded. You could feel your legs move, almost as if someone else had been controlling you. You bit your lip, starting to rush forward faster. You couldn’t figure out why you were doing this–or what your plan was after you got between them–but something needed to be done. 

You could just make out small strings from your arms. What–how did someone manage to prick you with strings? You tried to scream out, but strings were there too. Soon enough, you were right in the middle of Sir and Tartglia’s intense battle. They both stop their attacks, glancing upward. 

“Hah, Marionette wants to join the fray too? I’ll take you both down!” Tartaglia said, attempting to cut the strings attached to me. But, before he can do so, Capitano appears between the midst of you, exhaling loudly.

“Everyone, stand down.  This is going to make a mess of the dining hall,” Capitano said, grumbling soon after. You could hear the entire room grumble too, disliking the turn of events.

“Of course the party gets canceled the moment the puppet girl joins us,” Dottore spoke, rolling his eyes. You could feel small pricks where thin strings became unattached to you. You winced some, but the pain wasn’t terrible. You enjoyed what pain you had felt. Your eyes observe the crowd once more, an injured Tartaglia falling onto his knees. His breathing was quick, hands covering the iced over wounds he had. 

“I was just getting started, too. Oh well. For what it’s worth, you are an excellent adversary Pantalone,” Tartaglia said, grunting as he applied pressure to his wounds. Dottore stood up from his seat, clicking his tongue as he inspected Tartaglia’s injuries. 

“Oh, did I ruin your scuffle? Oh well, I come bearing urgent  news. Knave and Columbina are locked in combat in Fountaine. That darned Traveler is trying to ruin our plans again. I was told to report back and ask for assistance in their efforts.” Marionette said. I watched as the girl came into view, body poised on the shoulder of a mechanical person of sorts. A white bonnet lays on her gray-brown hair, neatly tied into a bun with two strands of hair framing her face.

You note the quiet that follows. You look over each Harbinger, seeming to take the threat to heart. You want to ask who this supposed Traveler is. You had heard rumors of a blond-haired heroine that traverses the land in search for her lost sibling. Surely the rumors must be true, given how the mention of them caused the room to come to silence. 

“Doc, heal me up. I’ll go to Fontaine instead. She is a worthy fighter so I understand the need for backup,” Tartaglia spoke between pained noises, stumbling as he walked. 

“Given your propensity to idiocy, we were hoping for Capitano or Pantalone to assist instead. Well, what say?” Marionette said, gesturing to the two in question. Sir seems to be busy healing himself from the prior fight, wiping off his face and observing any injuries he had on his person.

“Hmm, killing our Tartaglia’s play thing sounds admirable enough. Will we be able to return in time for my own expedition to Natlan?” Capitano asked, “My plans for the Pyro gnosis have been finalized.” Marionette hums at this, pointing a slender finger over at you.

“We should return before that spy returns from their mission. Sounds good to you, Il Capitano?” Marionette said. You blink, nodding toward Marionette. You were unsure if now was the best time to introduce yourself. And what did Capitano mean by ‘Tartaglia’s plaything’? 

“Besides, I have to oversee my spy’s training that Tartaglia so eagerly volunteered for already,” Sir said, wincing as he pulled his ice mask off to reveal a mouth soaked in blood. You rush to his side, wanting to help him somehow. He grabs onto tight, leaning part of his weight onto you. 

“Ho ho, so I do get the job? That will suffice my needs then! Just need a few days to let these wounds heal and to recover from the Foul Legacy transformation,” Tartgalia said,watching as Dottore opened up a hallway via his emblem. 

“All injured or otherwise staying at base, follow me! We will commence with healing. Though, I am obliged to make the obligatory shit talking remarks to our fighters,” Dottore said, chuckling soon after. You giggle at those words, though Sir keeps a tight grip onto you. Despite Dottore’s words, you see his own emblem shine bright besides Dottore’s. 

“I will drop the girl off first, her injuries minor in nature. Sandrone, I trust you will return with better news next time,” Sir said, giving a small bow along with me. But, wait–Harbingers couldn’t travel to each other's room without the other right? You raise an eyebrow at this, following Sir along as he hobbles. 

“Certainly. With four Harbinger traveling every corner of Fontaine, the Traveler will have no choice but to surrender the Hydro gnosis. I highly doubt the girl would fancy us hurting innocent people on her behalf. Some may call that munity,” Marionette, or rather Sandrone, said. The double names were really starting to throw you off. You knew of one being a code name, but how were you to tell the difference between a code name and their actual name? You may need to know these details, given you had an assignment that may put your life in the balance. You make a mental note to ask Sir these crucial questions as they tend to their wounds. 

Before you could listen in on more conversation, their words proceed to fade more and more as you traverse the halls to Sir’s room. You need to gain lots of intel within the next month. Codenames, mission objectives–even countermeasures if they somehow find you were in leagues with the Fatui, not a victim.

“There is another mission I wish for you to take on, girl. Tartaglia has begun to fancy one of my biggest threats. They are simply known as ‘The Traveler’. They excel at combat and somehow have mastery over all the elemental prowess without a Vision. It is your job to determine if Tartaglia has garnered feelings for her. If so, inform me immediately,” Sir said. I nodded, feeling the smooth wooden floor on my bandaged feet. 

“Understood. But, Sir, what of this other new mission of mine? I am very uncertain of my skills as a  spy,” you said, taking a seat onto the bed. Sir joins you, sitting right beside you with his arm embracing your side. 

“Tartaglia will teach you some basic combat and self defense moves. I’ll be observing this personally, given how he stole your stockings without a second thought,” Sir said, his fingers gently prodding against your bandages. You sigh, leaning against his broad shoulder. Your eyes search Sir’s body for any evident external wounds but find none. The electric blast Sir got must have caused internal damage more than anything. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could think to say. Mentioning the true events that went on, would only serve to anger Sir further. It seemed that he held little trust in Tartaglia, to the point of going toe to toe in a fight. To hear he showered you, touched you in excess, left a mark–it would drive him further in his hunt to get rid of Tartaglia. 

“Do not fret, my doll. Tartaglia surely has learned his lesson now. He seems to grow more impulsive by the day, this being proof of such. Tartaglia will not cause anymore trouble, I promise. And if he does, well, we will need more than Dottore to fix him up,” Sir said, leaning down to leave bites along your skin. Your groan in response, biting your own lip. Your arm moves to squeeze around Sir, skin feeling around for any injuries. His bites become more lingering, with more power behind his jaws. You groan louder, purring at the delicious feelings of pain. Those teeth grind against your skin, drops of blood seeping out of the opened wounds Sir created. You continue to groan out, nuzzling your head against Sir’s. This pain was an outlet for him to express his anger, his distaste–his deepest feelings. And you were the one he chose above all else to paint his worries on. You lean into the pain, feeling a bit of drool collect along the side of your chin.

“Mmm, more Sir, please,” you cry out, tongue hanging out of your mouth. You could feel Sir’s bloodied lips kiss at yours. You hold onto his back, stroking it as you hoped this affection aided in his healing. You feel his bloodied tongue search your entire mouth, only to return to his own mouth as his lips continue smaller kisses along your neck.

“Now now, we can’t let you get to training looking like a mess. I still need to pay a visit to Dottore myself. But. I will wait until that eyesore is done,” Sir said, stroking your back. You lean against Sir, stroking his back in turn. You clear your throat, nervous, but determined to learn more about what your full role would be here. 

“Sir, if I may ask then…what is my true role now? Before, I was to be yours and the cook. But now it seems much more complex than I ever expected,” you said, still stroking his back. You listen for a response but are met with his pleasant, soft humming. You remain quiet yourself. There was no need to rush his answer. You had time, the comfort of his room, and the eventual learning of a thousand more things to do.

“Do you wish to rescind your acceptance, then? I understand the contract may have made a few adjustments due to current events, but I am always willing to hear out a colleague wishing to quit,” Sir said, his humming still going on and on. You take a moment to answer, taking stock of what that may mean. You keep close to Sir’s body, your hand stopping mid stroke of Sir’s back. 

“No. Rather, I want more information, more training. Leading me back to my initial question,” you answer. You hear him laugh, nuzzling his face into yours. You respond with a laugh, feeling his lips back onto yours. You two kiss for a long while. You forget that air exists the moment Sir finally decides to pull away. His hands seem to search along his desk, pulling out a box. 

“That’s my doll. Now, for more information, there is a thing of trust we must build. First, while Tartaglia is in recovery, you will be meeting with our dearest Tsaritsa. She will determine your worth and if she chooses so, you may gain a delusion. After that, training should begin shortly. Your cooking duties will remain the same, with similar times and deadlines to deliver food and drink. And, lastly, before you fully decide on staying on, there is an important step we must take,” Sir said, lifting the lid of the box. A bright red collar matched with gloves are within. The edges are lined with black, the material appearing to be leather. You reach your hand out to touch the material, feeling an instant wave of cold overwhelm you. You cough, shivering as your body temperature plummets. Your breathing remains uneven, eyes struggling to move from the gloves to Sir. 

“That’s my doll,” you hear again, before you feel your consciousness leave your body.

Chapter Text

As you awaken, you look around.  You remain lying on the floor, unsure of where you were. You see the ceiling is many yards away from you, seeming to stretch endlessly. When you were a small girl, you read about buildings such as these. They were called castles and many stories read of royalty living in them. You had never seen such a building in your hometown nor anywhere in Snezhnaya. Sir specifically mentioned you had to wait a month or so before you were deployed elsewhere. But, had your eyes betrayed you in showing a lavish castle? 

Your eyes observe the surrounding room. It looks like an older castle, built of stone. Your fingers feel the flooring. Smooth, hard stone meets your fingertips. You wonder what power those gloves held and how you ended up in such a strange place. You had no clue what power you were under. Was it some sort of magic–or did Sir simply transport you elsewhere? You start to worry that Sir was still fighting Tartaglia, knowing full and well he did more than take your stockings. Moving you to a remote location would limit your ability to talk things through. But–all you can do is hope right now. 

You slowly raise to your feet, noting how tall this castle must have been. Vibrant dark blue drapes hung up from the tall ceiling, with a snowflake symbol on each one.  As your feet move to inspect the cloth further, you hear footsteps nearby. You turn but are unable to see where the footsteps are coming from.

“Ah, very well. It appears that one of my constituents has dropped you off with me. Marionette has already taken a liking to you. Otherwise, many are rendered disabled from her puppetry strings. Tell me, are you simply lucky or have a talent our group can harness,” the voice said. It sounded like a much older woman. But–where was that voice coming from? You decide to start traveling across the castle’s corridors, trying to find the source of the voice from earlier.

As you cross over various hallways, you come across a structure covered in what appears to be moss. A tilted square structure has roots crawling about its surface, starting to emit a bright green glow. You feel your eyes strain at the brightness, looking elsewhere. You move forward, finding the structure odd. 

“Door of Resurrection Activated, finally,” the female voice speaks, as if she was close to your ear. You shiver at the sensation, rubbing your shoulders with your hands. A chill runs down your back, similar to the one you felt that knocked you unconscious. 

“What is going on,” you mutter, rubbing your shoulders quicker. You continue to move forward, following a long corridor that leads you to a dining room. A long wooden table is present, along with two wooden chairs. The one closest to you is empty while the other end is occupied. 

“Sit,” the woman said, gesturing over to the empty seat. You nod, shivering as you take the empty seat. You look across the table to note more of the finer details of the woman in front of you.

Short white hair frames the woman’s face, matched with a chest full of jewelry. Sapphires, diamonds, pearls–expensive things you never had a chance to see in person. Her white dress is tightly fashioned along her body, with hot red eyes staring over at you.

“Well, are you avoiding the question or fearing my presence?” the woman said, cackling after. You shrug, exhaling to see white foggy breath exit your mouth. You weren’t sure who the woman in front of you was. By context clues, it could be the Tsaritsa. It would be within their protocol to knock you unconscious before meeting her. But what threat were you to an Archon? Your eyes look around once more, seeing nothing besides stone, the wooden table, and the chairs within the room. 

“I guess I am lucky? How did I end up here, after all? Apologizes for my ignorance, but who may you be?” you ask, trying your best to force a smile. You note the woman nod toward your manners, raising a gloved hand. Her fingers appear small movements away from snapping. Unsure of what this means, you clear your throat, trying to think of a better answer.

“Excuse me again, miss, I just. I am very new here. No one really explains much, I just get–” you say, but the woman continues to cackle. She rises from her seat, showing off her height as well as her slender body. Each step she takes offers another ‘clack’ against the pavement below. And, with each sound, you feel yourself grow colder by the second. You rush your fingers over your skin, hoping whatever friction is generated is enough to keep your limbs from freezing off your body. 

“How chilling it is, the girl turned spy dare forget her manners. No matter, you will learn, in time. You may refer to me as Tsaritsa. May you be fortunate enough not to let that tongue of yours slide so freely,” Tsaritsa said, each step she took making your body feel cold to the touch. You hardly had the strength to move your hands along your shoulders, but you kept at it. Whatever heat you managed to generate would save as much skin as you could. You also begin to rub your thighs together, trying your hardest not to turn into a human icicle.

A gloved hand proceeds to stroke your cheek, a large patch of ice quickly freezing the skin it comes in contact with. You cough harshly, your lungs beginning to have trouble inhaling. It felt as if the room itself was made of ice, gradually absorbing you to become one with the ice. You feel the immediate need to apologize matched with the ice forming in your esophagus. 

“I-I sincerely apologize, Tsaritsa,” you choke out, between coughs and the growing threat of unconsciousness. You force yourself awake, feeling this is a key moment in your time with the Fatui. You struggle but manage to extend a hand to shake hers with. You feel those icy, gloved hands wrap around yours in return. Patches of ice and snow proceed to crawl up your hand, the woman leaning dangerously close to your face. 

“Good. Now, if you do not mind, this will suffice for your initial meeting. I doubt that a visionless bode like yours will withstand this level of Cyro exposure much longer. Know this, girl: Your mission’s objective is to provide information to your sponsors Pantalone, Dottore, and Sandrone. This is understood, yes?” Tsaritsa said, her fingers ever strong. You could feel her cold hands grab hold of your extended hand, unable to retreat or hold that hand in place. You continue to cough, nodding quickly. How on Earth were you to expect this as your first meeting? And, with no warning, no less?

“Y-Yes Tsaritsa,” you choke out. The last bit of air that rests in your lung exits. You shiver uncontrollably, the icy patches growing thicker along your face and hand. You hear Tsaritsa cackle once more. One of her hands moves away to snap. The pearls that were on the woman’s neck begin to rise, bits of ice supporting the pearl’s movement.

The pearls fling onto your neck, seeming to suppress the pain on your hand and face. You struggle to keep your eyes open, knowing deep down this was a test. Was it yet another endurance test–or–was it one full of spite, a punishment for not correctly naming your superior? The actual fear of death was setting in, as your body was unable to move a single inch. Your breathing felt like it was gone–like the air was sucked out of the room.

“Good. You’ll wake up to a gift, my dear, for your endurance capabilities. You lasted far longer than anticipated. Now, hurry on, and inform Pantalone we have met,” Tsaritsa said, releasing your hand. You feel yourself stop shivering, eyes coming to a slow shut. You are unable to answer Tsaritsa any further. 

You see darkness for a bit, before your eyes struggle open. An expecting Dottore and Pantalone crowd around you. You see that you are in the lab you initially came to during your first day. The weapons from before seeming removed, the shelves remaining empty.

“Quite interesting. I have never seen someone so eager with our dear Tsaritsa before,” Sir muses, seeming to check your heartbeat. He places a cool stethoscope below your breast, humming along.

“She touched the glove without a second thought. And out like a light she went. No one’s met with her so long before and survived. Consider yourself blessed, my doll,” Sir said, leaning over to give your nose a kiss. You smile at the kiss. Your eyes roam about your body, noticing a strange blotch of tan across the hand which the woman had touched. You raise the hand, slightly, Dottore placing his own hand on top of it.

“I have never seen such results from a delusion granting. And in Tsaritsa’s personal domain no less? I may join Pantalone in watching you and Tartaglia train. It’s always exciting, seeing what kind of power lies dormant in those chosen,” Dottore said, seeming to check other body parts. It seemed part of the issue in this organization had been communication. You hadn’t a clue what a delusion was or how you were to use it. 

“What is a delusion–and why did she give me one?” you ask, seeing the two before you exchange knowing glances. Sir moves to sit beside you, gently squeezing your tan-stained hand. You feel nothing as a result of this but recall the terrible icy sensation that overcame you. You shiver instinctively, causing Sir to raise an eyebrow to you. 

“Well, to help you out, you need to exchange some information for us. Just part of the formalities here after all. Give us the details of what transpired,” Dottore said, taking a seat beside you. He takes your other hand, squeezing it tight just as Sir did your other hand. You sigh, feeling yourself relax some. You did not take what Dottore said lightly. That woman appeared scary. She nearly froze your body to ice cubes while giving your orders. One thing was for sure–you would never mistake her for anyone else other than the Tsaritsa. 

“She just got upset with me because I had no clue her name. She took my hand and froze it–along with part of my face. I could hardly breathe. And…this necklace of pearls, it was around her neck but wrapped around mine with icicles,” you describe, not feeling any jewelry resting along your neck. You hoped that would suffice for what they wanted you to relay. You listen to the two ponder on this, stroking your hand now and again.

“Ah, good thing she was in high spirits. Other days that may have very well been your death, girl. From what you describe, it sounds similar to Tartaglia. But the odd choice of an object to embed your delusion with. We have not seen anything appear on your person. Perhaps it is one that needs to be word activated?” Dottore said, moving his hands from yours to other sections of your body. He gives each section a deep massage. Sir soon joins him in this, trying to seek out the pearls. Once the duo reached your neck, they both massaged it, searching for the aforementioned pearls. 

“Perhaps it was just an odd dream,” you said. The entire event was quite strange. The two above you seem to ignore the comment, still massaging every last inch of your body. It takes them several minutes to pause, your body feeling calmed and relaxed by their touch. If nothing else, it was a great body massage for you. 

“Not exactly the highest on the probability scale. Whenever anyone makes contact with the objects from an Archon’s domain, it immediately takes the person’s energy within their domain. When the energy returns, any external objects gained from the domain are kept on the returned energy’s person. Perhaps we just aren’t looking in the right places, Dottore,” Sir said. They both exchange knowing glances, moving toward your torso. Sir’s hand lurches back before slamming forward at, and then into your stomach. You scream. Before you could question the two on why that place made most sense, you see the pearls gradually become extracted from your stomach. A bright white light surrounds your belly. You see no guts or gore, but rather, rays of light surrounding your tummy.

“Ah, yes yes. She certainly loves reminding us to grab those Gnoses from the remaining Archons. This was nothing short of a gentle reminder,” Dottore said, observing the pearls as they were extracted from your stomach. You let out a long, pained exhale once the process is completed. You note that the pearls are as exactly as you remember seeing them. You reach out to grab them, but both men move away from you, taking a closer look at the pearls.

“In your state? Touching these may drive you into madness,” Sir mentioned, “Delusions are powerful creations. They are often used to supplement regular visions. With you not having one to begin with, that will make the training process more strenuous. Once Tartaglia is ready to train you, you will be allowed to touch these again. For now, we will put them somewhere safe.” A black velvet bag is used to store the pearls, a gold zipper closing them from sight. You nod, struggling to sit up. The two men return to your side, helping you sit up on the lab’s examination table.  

You struggle to your feet, noting your stitches have been fully healed. It makes you wonder how long you were in that separate domain for. And, now that you were thinking about it, what exactly were domains? You turn to Sir and Dottore, asking this exact question. Both burst into laughter, shaking their heads as one hand from each rest against your shoulder. They use enough force to make you sit back onto the table, your legs buckling with ease. 

“Ah, very well! I always forget you are not a seasoned adventurer. Domains are places where ley line energies tend to be at their highest. As a result of the cluster of energy, different kinds of creatures will meet in these areas. The domain you entered was something more along the lines of a Serenitea Pot. Adepti and Archons possess the ability to create these sub space dimensions. Think of them as houses within objects. Serenitea pots were originally made to give warriors a secure and specific place to rest while on the road. Our dear Tsaritsa uses hers as a meeting space. She is able to keep her exact location unknown while traveling or remaining in a single place for long periods of time. Once we reach the end goal of our–” Sir said, but Dottore starts a coughing fit. Sir turns to Dottore. Dottore then tackles Sir to the floor. The two began…making out? It felt out of nowhere, but perhaps, to keep Sir from explaining too much of their end goal with collecting all these objects from Archons. You shrug, leaning forward as you enjoyed the show on the floor. 

Sir and Dottore’s faces were locked, their tongues occasionally visible as they exchanged spit. You smile, happy to see Sir enjoying his time with what appeared to be his favorite member. Their fingers search the others clothing, shirts and pants being removed. You look down at your own body, noticing now you are naked yourself. You had left shame with your old belongings in Snezhnaya. Now you simply felt comfortable when there were no weapons being thrown at another. Your eyes return to the men on the floor, undressing themselves as they continue their messy make out session.

Sir’s hair was being ruffled by Dottore, who in return pinned Sir’s arm against the metallic floor. Sir groans at this but does not seem alarmed. Their nude bodies reveal scars, scratches, and a variety of other wounds. Part of you is curious as to how they were obtained if not all of them were from combat against enemies.

Your question is immediately answered as you see Sir scratch the entirety of Dottore’s back, clinching down with such passion, such strength. Bits of blood were starting to show themselves on The Doctor’s back. You hear Dottore sneer as Sir does this, fingers filling with blood. You continue watching, somewhat interested in what other types of “play” your Sir enjoyed. 

Dottore and Pantalone’s lips collide once again, breathy moans exiting anytime their lips part. You prop your head up along your hands, watching the scene play out in front of you. Sir starts to move his blood-coated fingers toward Dottore’s rear, giving each of his cheeks a pleasant slap. Dottore grumbles at this, pressing his face further into Sir’s. You felt a bit left out, yes, but there was an entertainment value in seeing these two members go at it. 

“Mmmrm, so that’s how you want it today, being a brat and taking my favorite talking points,” Dottore muses against Sir’s lips. The Doctor briefly opens his own mouth before shutting it quickly, biting down on Sir’s bottom lip. You couldn’t make out what Sir was trying to say–but could easily deduce what Sir’s hands were doing. Sir’s hands were struggling to reach Dottore’s cock. But each time Sir got close, Dottore moved back, making that cock of his just out of reach.

“Now don’t be selfish,” Sir said, trying still to get a hold of Dottore’s cock. With each time Sir reached out, the further Dottore’s thighs got from Sir. It got to the point where Dottore stood up, lips still on Sir’s, cackling between smooches. 

“Selfish? More like considerate. Your doll is just sitting there, watching you act so needy and pertinacious. Do you want her to get ideas,” Dottore grumbles against Sir’s lips, his hands waving through Sir’s hair before standing up straight. Sir remains on the floor, crossing his arms. He lets out a pout, which you giggle at. Dottore joins you with a cackle, shaking his head as he turns toward you.

“This is how your ‘Sir’ likes to act around me. He won’t admit it, but he’s been plenty needy when you were knocked out the past three days,” Dottore explained, still thwarting Sir’s attempts to grab at his cock. 

“Three days? Is that the usual time people spend meeting with her,” you ask, both of them shaking their heads, Sir sighing. 

“That has been the longest visit on record. Anyone who has stayed that long or longer has their body decay. That typically means our dear Tsaritsa has found the person insubordinate or unworthy of the cause,” Sir explained, eyes locked on Dottore’s cock, “I brought you here to prepare for the worst-case scenario. If you were to be disposed of, Dottore insisted on retrieving his devices beforehand.” You smile, despite that dark topic being brought up. Something about being surrounded by such powerful folks with varying egos made death itself less scary. Dying in one's sleep may be considered a gift to some. The words of Tsaritsa echo in your mind, thinking hard on the meaning behind what she had meant.  

“Good. You’ll wake up to a gift, my dear, for your endurance capabilities. You lasted far longer than anticipated.”

Those words must have hinted at your death being in that realm. But you survived. Did that mean you were officially a higher-ranking member or…? You tilt your head, stuck in your thoughts.

“But, enough about that! I need to take care of your ‘Sir’ before he gets any more handsy with me,” Dottore said, kicking Sir down with a foot. Sir falls to his back with ease. You watch, seeing Dottore bite along Sir’s neck. You rest along the table, kicking your feet in joy.

The next several minutes involve noises you never heard from your Sir. He groans, moans, wrapping both hands around Dottore. Dottore stays quiet, putting his focus into his thrusts and grip along Sir’s throat. You watch the ongoings with a keen eye, curious if Sir would ever trust you enough to choke and fuck him as Dottore does. You see Sir’s glasses fly to the side, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His moans sounded sweet–needy as Dottore put it. 

You watch as Sir’s dark blue hair flies across his face with each thrust, his breathing becoming uneven, unsteady as Dottore continues to pump him full of his cock. Dottore was panting, hushing that noise with bites along Sir’s neck. You could hear Sir plead out, beg, cry…such similar things you did underneath him. It made you wonder–did Sir like causing pain and feeling it? And, if so, why hadn’t you the chance to inflict pain on him yet? You determine it to be a trust thing, as that was one of the last things you recall Sir mentioning before you fell unconscious. 

You note Sir’s breathing slows down, his eyes closing as sweat pools along his forehead. Dottore wipes the sweat off, whistling. Dottore turns to face you with a grin, clapping. You decide to clap with him, as a sense of comradery. Sir continues to lay down, eyes closed, his breathing evening out. 

“There we are! Now then, Pantalone, are we all figured out in that horny brain of yours,” Dottore said, leaning over to whisper those last words directly into SIr’s ear. Sir simply answers with a nod, his face moving up a bit to give Dottore a kiss along the lips. You watch as Dottore returns the kiss, biting down a final time to leave an imprint of his teeth along Sir’s face. You see this as Dottore shifts off Sir, proceeding to redress himself. Sir follows suit. That pleased, happy humming erupts from his lips again. You smile wider now, happy to see Sir enjoy himself to the fullest extent.

You search the room and fail to find your own garments, shrugging. You assume Sir just wanted you to head back to your room and get some rest. You kick your feet as you remain seated along the examination table, watching the two get dressed. The final thing Sir puts back on is his glasses, adjusting them on his face before turning back to you. 

“We should test out your new communication ability. Close your eyes, doll, and focus on Dottore and I. We’ll try sharing a message to you telepathically. If this works, you should be fine to start your combat training any day now. Otherwise, Dottore may wish to open you back up for surgery,” Sir said. You do as told, closing your eyes as your legs swing to a stop. You focus hard, hoping to hear their voices within your mind.

“ Mister submissive, do you read me? ”   you could hear Dottore’s voice inside your mind, as if you were talking within your mind. 

“Quit it, Dottore. Stop it and let’s use this more practically, ” you could hear Sir’s voice now, too, arguing.

“ I take it that the communication system is online now, good. Can we limit the number of inappropriate comments, please? I am trying to travel, ” Sandrone said, recalling that voice as the one who stabbed your skin with those puppetry strings. 

“ I grant an awesome power to communicate via a person’s mind and you expect me not to do as I wish? For shame, Marionette, for shame, ” Dottore said, seeming to cackle at the end of his sentence. You shake your own head, sighing at the results. How silly was this group, outside of their typical criminal activities? You decide to chime in at this point, curious to see if they can also hear you.

“ Hello, this is, ” you start to say in your internal monologue, realizing you do not have a codename, “ Pearly, reporting in. Just speaking to confirm all those in the communication loop can hear. ”  

“ Can verify your communication, it’s clear , ” Sandrone said. 

“ Duh, ” Dottore says with a cackle, “ My genius is all over this invention, it works as it should. ” 

“ Also confirming, ending transmission now, ” Sir said. And, with a tug to your nipples, you can hear the voices fade out. You wince at this, turning to see a smiling Sir. You slide off the examination table, wondering what was next on the list. You were to start your combat training soon, but you still felt very unprepared. You had never fought in your life. The only fighting experience you had was against your own illness. You take a look at your bare body and then your hands, wondering if they could ever cause harm to another. You could cook, clean, fuck, and that was the list of things you were certain of. But to fight in the name of that heart-frozen cunt you saw? That part you were unsure of. 

“You got it, right doll? To end the transmission, you pull on your right nipple. New transmissions can be made on our request, or, if you pull on your left nipple,” Sir explained, seeming to be for the second or third time. You nod quickly this time, nearly forgetting you were in a room with two others. Dottore turns on his heel, seeming to head on his way out. 

“Well, I’ll be in my quarters. It will certainly be entertaining to see what happens when two delusion users go against each other in battle, a test I am glad to witness in person,” Dottore said, his voice beginning to echo against the walls. The further The Doctor went form the examination room, the less his voice was audible. Once Dottore was fully out of the room, you could feel Sir’s hands pick you up from your feet, a soft smile on his face.

“I rather not admit it with that jerk face in the room but. I was truly worried for your survival. Our dear Tsaritsa does not show mercy to any creature that shows in her domain. Your skin started to grow cold, your breathing slowed, it looked dim for quite a bit. To feel the warmth spread across your body again, to see you up and happy. It brings joy to my heart,” Sir said, leaning over to give your forehead a kiss. You giggle at this, returning the favor with a kiss along Sir’s forehead. 

The two of you begin walking across Sir’s corridor, the hallway feeling shorter than usual. Sir’s steps had been quicker, as if he was in a hurry. Soon you are greeted with a familiar bedroom, furnished with two desks and a sizable bed. 

“Bath time for the two of us, huh,” Sir whispered along your ear, nibbling at it. You laugh at the feeling, stroking Sir’s back in return. You can feel Sir release his hold on you, dropping you along the wooden floor. You stand, heading over to the bathroom behind him.

The bath setup is quickly started. Sir turns an assortment of knobs in the bathtub area, causing water to start filling up the tub. A mixture of soaps and other mixings are poured in. Fruity and flowery smells fill the bathroom. Your eyes watch as the purple-blue colors mix together, your nose enjoying the mixture of lavender and berries.

“Come now, sit,” Sir encourages, gesturing for you to sit in the tub as it fills. You slide into the tub with ease, feeling your muscles relax. The water felt warm. The scents Sir mixed in felt perfect on your skin. You scoot over some the moment you see Sir approach with two washcloths, tossing one to you as he keeps another. Before you can start washing yourself, Sir tuts. 

“Now, bathing together would be boring if we simply washed ourselves. We’ll be washing each other,” Sir said. You nod, awkwardly laughing at the thought. You never washed down Sir before, and well, were unsure if you were up to the task. You could imagine Dottore’s warm seed still resting deep in Sir’s ass. Those marks, bites, all of it was turning you on. You try to hide it by submerging your breasts into the soapy waters. This just caused Sir to wrap an arm around you, his fingers touching along your hardened nipples.

“Perhaps watching Dottore and I made you long for something, hmm,” Sir asked, his lips nipping against your earlobe. You blush at the feeling, trying to shake your head ‘no’. You hear Sir cackle as he nips at your ear, stroking your breast with care. But, as you feel Sir’s face about to collide with yours, you see a strange light emitting from the side of the bathroom. You see a nude Dottore, showering. Dottore seems displeased or irritated, rolling his eyes as the screen pops into view. Sir moves to stare at the screen as well.

“Pierro wants a group meeting for dinner. Girl, be on your best behavior now. He is the top honcho here, right besides Tsaritsa. He wants a more detailed timeline for the Pyro gnosis. Annoying, we don't get a rest day, but that’s just how our lives are. You’ll need to get the girl dinner ready soon. He’ll be here within the hour,” Dottore said, eyebrow raising at the two of you in the tub. 

“Don’t forget; he’s going to want to see that delusion in action. It’s all that’s on his mind right now,” Dottore said, the transmission on the titled wall shutting off. You want to ask more questions, to get clarity–to tell this man you hadn’t an ounce of combat training on you. But Sir pulls you up toward the lip of the tub, making quick work of washing your body. His humming is replaced by silence. 

“Are you nervous?” you ask Sir, being nervous yourself and hoping not to be alone in the feeling, “You said I may go mad if I use it in my current state.” You watch Sir as he wipes down your legs, arms, and stomach, tapping your knee as you turn. Sir soon wipes down your backside, sighing as he throws the cloth into the tub. 

“You may go mad. Or. You may succeed in proving yourself. We’ve run out of time to pad the odds. I will bring your pearls to the dining hall,” Sir said, wrapping his arms around you. You lean into his hold, wanting so badly to turn around and embrace him in turn. But his arms were tight along your waist, not letting you move an inch. It would have been better if he just lied and said yes. It would have been even better if you had the chance to train this power of yours to any degree. But you were expected to make dinner, perhaps your last one, and rivel one of the most bloodthirsty Harbingers there was. And then, the realization hits you–was this Tartaglia’s plan all along? The egging on, the proposal to train you, was it some twisted way to get you to be his underling? You bite your lip as you continue thinking, Sir guiding you out of the tub as he finishes up cleaning himself. You see a garb hanging up along the shower. You pull it down to see it in more detail. 

A short, black dress is in view. Along with this dress are matching black stockings, with Sir’s symbol embedded on them. You note this detail as you get ready, Sir sighing once more. 

“Once you are dressed, you are free to go into the kitchen. I highly recommend a Mondstadt dish. Some potatoes, a protein, with some fruit on the side. And a dessert–preferably something more on the savory side. With your new stockings, there is some of my elemental energy sewn in. That should allow you easy travels to the Kitchen, Dining Hall, and back to my room. Good luck, my doll,” Sir said, cleaning off his body. You bow once you finish dressing, heading off. You come in close contact with a wall, touching it with a foot. The stocking emits a dark blue color, the wall being replaced by a dark blue hallway toward the kitchen.

As you make your way toward the area, you gulp, hoping you would survive another dinner with some of the most criminally insane minds of Teyvet. 

Chapter Text

You do your best to shake off your nerves as you traverse the halls. You continued to repeat the requested menu for today. You wonder if Pierro hailed from Mondstadt or just fancied their food. As you see the kitchen within view, you grumble at the familiar orange-brown hair. A grin spreads across Tartaglia’s face, waving you into the kitchen.

“Hello there, comrade! I’m sure you have already heard the news about our spar today,” Tartaglia said. You try to squeeze past him but his hand clutches your own tightly. The hallway behind you closes, leaving you no escape and defenseless in the kitchen.

Your eyes wander to the fresh meat rack, noting fresh lamb and boar hanging up high. You jerk away from Tartaglia, only for him to tighten his grip. You continue to try and squeeze away, begging that you had no time to waste in preparing today’s dinner. You were still responsible for the meal in addition to whatever fight you two were supposed to have later on. 

“Awh, well, I suppose cooking would be an important task. But why ignore a greeting from a fellow member? That’s awfully rude you know,” Tartaglia said, leaning his face closer to yours. You attempt to lean away further, but Tartaglia uses his other arm to pull you in close to him. You remain still, silent, not wanting to give the man what he wanted. Perhaps a small part of you wanted to see how far he would go, how upset and unruly he would truly get. Besides, a greeting was more than you were willing to give a conniving man like him. You stop struggling and talking. Your eyes stare straight up at his blue ones, looking down at you. There was no way you were going to give in so easily, so quickly.

“Hmm, are you trying to egg me on for an early scuffle? Trust me, I am eager to fight as well, but not without our audience. It would be a shame if you were to beat me here, none would believe you,” Tartaglia whispers, his lips gliding across your ear, “Though, I’d love to see you try.” You continue your silence, your defiance, your stubborn attitude would get you far–perhaps not too far, but at least to cook. You remain still. Tartaglia huffs at this, turning his back toward you. Taking advantage of this moment, you move toward the sink to wash your hands, preparing the menu in your mind. 

“I have no time for your games this time, Tartaglia. And you know I lack any proper fighting experience. If you don’t go easy on me, I’ll surely waste away,” you said, grabbing an array of metal pans to roast the meat on. You make your way to the pantry, Tartaglia following close by. You place several potatoes within your dress, using it as a basket. Your thighs and panties are exposed as a result, a lingering whistle exiting Tartaglia’s mouth. You roll your eyes at this, moving over to the sink. Tartaglia seems somewhat helpful, placing down a strainer for you to place the potatoes in. You do this, shifting the bowl over the sink as water rushes over them.

“You won’t catch me with my guard down, no way! You keep saying that you lack experience, but I get an aura of competition from you. Know that our match later will not be easy. You are facing me with a handicap. My body is tired from using the Foul Legacy transformation some days ago. I’ll make sure you are deployed with some skills at least,” Tartaglia said, his hands  stroking the hem of your dress. You grumble at his hands, scrubbing away the dirt from each potato. As each one reaches your desired level of cleanliness, you toss it on the counter for cutting. You could feel Tartaglia’s long fingers toy with your dress, fingertips teasing at your stocking’s entrance. You found success ignoring him last time, so you continue to do so as you focus on preparing the meal. You can hear the man behind you scowl at this. You laugh, shaking your head at such a childish response. 

Once the pile of potatoes has been rinsed clean, you move to chop them into quarter pieces. Tartaglia seems to remain silent, his hands still playing with your outfit. The efforts of ignoring him did well, you were getting through prep with ease. You feel his lips begin nipping at your ear, causing you to wince. His teeth grazed against your earlobe, making you bite your lip. That pain felt like a familiar touch, one you despised from him but longed for from Sir. You refused Tartaglia the pleasure of hearing you groan, eyes focused as your fingers continued to cut away at the potatoes. You feel the bite become more aggressive, a drop of blood falling to your shoulder. You force your teeth onto your bottom lip with more force this time, covering the sound of your muted groan with the fast chopping of the potatoes. 

“Oh, are you hiding something from me now? Come on, I can taste your desire from here,” Tartaglia said, his fingers moving beneath your dress and along your panties. You are quick to move again, hoping the movement dissuades the man from prying further into your clothes and body. However, Tartaglia just keeps following you. His hands slip between your panties elastic band and your thigh, pinching your skin with his fingers. You keep your teeth tight against your bottom lip, doing your best to ignore his attempts to seduce you.  

“I need to climb the drawers to get the meat,” you said, hoping that would suffice for his hands to be moved. But you are surprised by the response the Harbinger gives you. His large hands proceed to cup your ass, a cheek for each hand, as you are lifted into the air. Before you can protest, you realize there’s a clear view of the spices and are able to grab the meat with ease. You decide to go for a savory seasoning type, and the tougher meat option of boar. Based on the shape and size, it appeared to  be meat from some sort of grassy field. You wonder if they stocked this meat specially for one of the leaders. You could also feel Tartaglia’s fingers stay still, seeming focused on supporting your weight. You decide to kick at Tartaglia’s neck a couple times to signal you wanted down. You can feel the hands slowly bring you to the ground, coming back to your feet. 

Those hands on your ass do not move, each cheek getting a slow squeeze. You grumble at this, trying to ignore it, but Tartaglia continues his groping session. You drag the meat over to one of the pans, pouring a generous amount of oil and seasoning over the potatoes and meat. You rub the meat with tenderness. Tartaglia mirrors the motion with a laugh, stroking your ass. 

“Better tenderize this while I can,” Tartaglia said, punctuating his words with a slap to each of your cheeks. Your face becomes red, biting your lip to hide how that took you for a surprise. You continue massaging the meat, using your elbow to turn the heat on the oven to high.

“Must you always be in the way,” you mutter under your breath, moving over to the sink to wash off your hands. Tartaglia’s hands then glide out of your underwear, wrapping along your waist. He leans in to rest his head along yours. There’s a sudden quiet from him. It was odd. You were half expecting him to already have some sassy remark as a rebuttal. But he was eerily quiet now. There is a lull that sets in, your eyes watching the stove for it to indicate it was pre-heated. 

“So, you really don’t remember that day we went ice fishing together, huh?” Tartaglia asked, the embrace along your waist tightening. You shake your head, sighing. What did this man not understand about you being terminally ill during most of your teen years? And, if the event happened when they were kids, it was unlikely to stir any memories. 

You listen as the oven dings, indicating it was fully heated. You lift and place the assortment of potatoes and meats into the oven. Tartaglia hums as you do this. There was something different about the way this Harbinger hummed. You weren’t sure if the man was just bored or trying to fill the silence with something. As you finish closing up the oven, you feel Tartaglia lift you up again, but this time, he turns you around to face him.

“It was by fate we met like this. I don’t intend on missing my chance with you as I did back then. Even if others don’t like it, I will relish in your presence,” Tartaglia said. You were having trouble understanding his words. Did that mean, after all these years, he harbored feelings for you? You look away from the Harbinger, unsure how to feel about it all. Sir may have known about this, too, which is why he disliked Tartaglia getting close to you. You feel his hands stroke your sides, moving up until his hands pitched at your cheeks. You shut your eyes. 

There is a long pause between you two. You begin to wonder about your own feelings. Much of your past is riddled with sickness, money struggles, and sadness. Recalling positive memories only really happened in dreams. You allow yourself to rest against Tartaglia’s frame, his hands cradling you. Those rough, callous hands stroke along your exposed skin, starting from your shoulder down to your fingertips. You open your eyes to see Tartaglia staring right at you, seeming to observe your features closely. You remain still for the moment, still as an arrow. 

“Someone declares their love to you–and you just stay quiet? What kind of answer is that,” Tartaglia said. His hands rest along your back, adjusting himself so he holds you by the butt. You offer no resistance, becoming deadweight in his arms. The last thing you wanted was to piss off the guy that was going to be fighting you soon. It would be best to gain some sort of upper hand. A confession of love could be used against Tartaglia. It was an underhanded move, but you had to use what advantages you were given.

You feel Tartaglia start to move toward a hallway door, his narwhal symbol shining bright. You shake your head at this, wrapping your arms right the other tight. You had a feeling the other would not make the food burn, but, where was he taking you? There was no mess he made of you, at least not one you knew of. 

“Where are we going,” you ask, arms holding on tight to Tartaglia. He carries you through the hallway. He remains quiet. Great–now he was using the silent treatment on you. You watch as the area around you is a pastel blue, gradually morphing into Tartaglia’s room from before. The hallway behind you both closes quickly. You feel Tartaglia’s hands gradually let you go, his arms tossing you over to his bed.

You land onto the bed with a bounce. You stabilize yourself by gripping onto the bed’s edge, looking over the photos that were hung up besides Tartaglia’s bed. A smattering of photos are hung up in his room, a difference from the initial time you were brought here. You feel a shift in the bed’s weight, Tartaglia joining you on the bed. His arms wrap around you, turning you to face him. His arms hold you close, lips leaving a trail of kisses along your forehead. 

You get the sense that Tartaglia may have his own reservations about fighting you. Maybe he was nervous–fighting one’s crush must have been a date in the crazed man’s mind. You run your fingers through Tartaglia’s hair, hearing a soft sigh escape his lips. You wonder if he would at least answer another question that had been weighing on your mind.

“When did you know it was me, A. Ajax…” you said, starting to recall the man’s true name. You watch as  the man’s eyes widen, a grin spreading along his face. A hand of his comes to scoop up your cheek, his lips taking yours. You feel his lips force yours to part. His tongue invades your mouth, making quick work of swapping spit with you. You don’t fight at all, taking time to feel the man’s aggressive tongue explore your mouth. You widen your mouth some, your hands holding onto the other. Was this what little of a soft side he had–or was he the one trying to catch you off guard? You couldn’t  help but let him just go on with whatever he wanted. In this case, he wanted a deep, passionate kiss. At least he was shutting up some, though at the worst times. You feel Tartaglia pull away from you, hips lips wet with your combined spit.

“Since the moment your paperwork kept flying around here. I usually train the grunts that do most of the clerical work. I wouldn’t forget that name, not even for a second. Once Pantalone tried to keep you as a research pet, I played my cards right and got you a higher position. Although a higher rank doesn’t always mean it’s easier work, as you know,” Tartaglia said, coming back at your lips for another kiss. You lean into this one, using your hands to wrap around the other. You feel his warmth, his softness–his comfort. You use that word sparingly, knowing comfort is often defined differently these days. You allow yourself to have fun with the kiss this time, swatting around your tongue and figuring out what it meant to kiss someone. You could feel Tartaglia laugh at this, his face pulling away with a wide smile. 

“So,  you must be a virgin then,” Tartaglia teases, pressing his body close against yours. You feel your skin turn scarlet red at the mention. You shake your head and try to deny it, but Tartaglia’s laughs show his stance on the issue. 

“W-Why does that even matter right now,” you sputter out, eyes looking away from the other. You feel Tartaglia’s hand scoop up your neck, forcing your face to look at his own. You give the best serious stare you can give until you both break into a laughing fit.  

“Look at us, less than an hour away from our battle talking about such frivolous things. You remind me of times before my Fatui recruitment,” Tartaglia said, using that grip along your chin to push you forward into another kiss. You gladly return the kiss this time, eyes observing the other features. You note, as you were so close, you could just barely make out freckles that were scattered along his face. After a few minutes, you two break away again, mouths coated with spit. You try to wipe it off on your dress, but Tartaglia stops you, wiping that spit off on his own shirt. You recall your other assignment from Sir, ascertaining if he had feelings for that Traveler girl. If what Tartaglia had said was true, then he couldn’t possibly be in love with that girl. But, there was only one way to truly be sure. 

“Then, you do uh? Fancy me then, no one else along your travels has caught your eyes or blade,” you ask, using a hand of yours to cup Tartaglia’s cheek. You gauge the boy’s reaction, noting any small thing of interest.  Your eyes observe as his cheekbones remain idle, his eyes looking straight toward you. Unless Tartaglia was a great liar, whatever he was going to say would show his honest truth. 

“Not anyone I could realistically see as I see you. There’s this blond, goes by the Traveler. If I were in different circumstances, and never had met you, we would be married with many kids by now. But she’s more of a casual sparring partner as we cross paths. She goes against our goals, so…it’d be a threat to our organization if I truly pursued her. And, with you by my side now, well. It’s silly to try entertaining such a relationship,” Tartaglia said. You watch his facial expression, any change to his mannerisms, even trying to get a sense for how much he moves on the bed. Even if you completely failed at your match today, you could at least get another assignment done while you were at it.

You feel Tartaglia kiss your lips again, his arms bringing you into a tight embrace. You return the kiss, stroking his back. Of course, the guy could be lying. It was a well worded lie if he was. And, well, you wouldn’t put it past a Harbinger to be interested in more than one person at a time. You decide to table pressing for more information, allowing Tartaglia to pull away from your lips when he feels ready. You feel a pressure rub against your groin, blushing at the sensation. You remain close to the other, using your arms to embrace him close to yourself. After several minutes of kissing and cuddles, you feel Tartaglia pull away, a grin across his face.

“So, does this mean I get to be your boyfriend? Or is that ‘Sir’ of yours gonna control who you date around here too?” Tartaglia said, a sly look on his face. You turn red at the mention, unsure of what to say. How the hell were you going to date one member while sleeping with another? And, above all else, you had to keep your own mission and boss in the forefront of your mind.

“Sir doesn’t really like–” you try to say, but feel soft lips suckle against your neck. You could not bear holding in your noises anymore, letting out a groan. The noise makes him suck down harder, using his hands to keep you close. Those lips were making another damned mark again. You would surely be considered suspicious if Sir continued not to touch you as he had been. You let out more noises, unable to hide the pleasure you had been feeling the moment you both came to his room. You try to figure out how to politely decline, or at the very least, table the discussion. You feel yourself shiver in excitement, nipples hardening at such a gentle expression of love. As much as you try to wiggle away, Tartaglia’s hands keep a tight hold along your waist. His lips continue to suckle down your neck, leaving hot red marks everywhere they slide.

“Sir won’t like t–” you breath out, unable to vocalize full sentences. You feel your groans force out your mouth, sometimes mixed with moans and wiggling between your thighs. Sir’s motions made you feel this way, despite there being pain involved. But Tartaglia’s motions felt more…gentle. You continue to feel those lips trail down your shoulder, along your sides, down to your navel. Even through the clothing, it felt oddly satisfying. 

“Sir will question t–” you try to speak again, but immediately stopped by the overwhelming urge to moan out your pleasantries. You wiggle against the soft bedding. Sir couldn’t miss these markings. They were so red, bold, and in his face. If he chose to ignore these, then, you may as well take issue with it too. You feel Tartaglia slip lower, toward your sex, his fingers making quick work to lower your panties. You can feel that tongue becoming achingly close to your sex, his fingers now trying to lower your stockings. The moment you feel them  fall to your ankles makes you blush redder than ever, trying to grab a pillow to cover your face. Tartaglia throws the pillows off his bed, making it impossible to hide how embarrassed, nervous, and deeply aroused you were. 

“Seeing your face is half the fun. Besides, a boyfriend’s gotta provide when you're this achingly wet,” Tartaglia said, moving a finger along your slit. You let out a loud groan, attempting to trap the finger with your legs. Tartaglia laughs at this, wiggling around the finger with ease. You could hear the wet sloshing noises of your sex, unsure how to feel about it all. You move your hands to cover your mouth, in a poor attempt to control your volume. You knew others had no chance of hearing–yet felt so anxious that they somehow would.

“Wow, so your ‘Sir’ really keeps you pent up. What a shame I need to make this quick, otherwise this would be a delicious meal,” Tartaglia said, shoving his entire finger into you. You moan into your hands. Your legs tense up at the feeling, hands shivering as your moans continue. Soon two then three fingers are inserted, thrusting into you with a fluid motion. You can’t help but let out louder moans into your hands, your thighs applying pressure against the Harbinger’s fingers. He laughs as he watches you, using his free hand to give your ass several slaps.

“Good girl, that’s it, you’re getting a hang of this. You can have some fun with this too,” Tartaglia said, swirling his fingers around your sex. You can’t stop yourself anymore. The thoughts of Sir  fading in and out, just like those fingers. You cry out your moans now, your hands moving to grip at the sheets beneath you. You could hear yourself get wetter, the juices causing the bed to feel more and more wet underneath you. You hardly had time to live less than do anything like you were experiencing now. It forced all your thoughts to the outside of your mind, your main focus being those fingers, that motion–the force behind every thrust. You feel yourself begin to cling to it almost, as if you never wanted the fingers to ever part. You could feel your nipples start to ache from how this felt like it was dragging–like he wanted the food to burn. And, after a few minutes, you feel the pleasure between your legs mount higher, higher, until you could feel a final wave of wetness expel from below. You couldn’t control the speed, amount–anything. It came like a burst of wetness, Tartaglia cackling. You feel his fingers remove themselves from you. You look down to see Tartaglia lick his fingers clean, his blue eyes looking toward you. You struggle to try and stand, but he holds your legs down to the bed.

“I’ll clean up the mess, let me grab some washcloths. We should hurry, that food is probably done about now,” Tartaglia said, moving up and toward his bathroom. He returns as he gently wipes away the mess you created. He starts first with your sex, wiping your outer area and your inner thighs. You see that it even got all over your stockings. You gulp at the sight, not sure how to excuse such staining to Sir. Once Tartaglia finished up with wiping down your legs, he pulled your panties back where they were, along with your stockings. You straighten out your dress, slowly coming to a stand. You look back and note the wet patch you made in Tartaglia’s bed, bowing.

“I, I’m sorry. I do–” you start to say, but feel his arms hold you.

“Don’t apologize. If my bed ended up dry after that, I’d be more embarrassed than anything,” Tartaglia replied, a narwhal symbol appearing along the wall. Soon, a hallway would appear in the usual spot. You and Tartaglia walked, hand-in-hand through the neon-blue colored hallway. You had half the thought of asking if he still wanted to fight, if this was all due to leadership. 

“We can’t date, really. Sir nearly killed you once before,” you said, wanting to make that part clear. Perhaps you could do with more of these bedtime visits while your food was cooking, but not a commitment like dating. Disrupting the Harbingers like this would be seen as a headache to Tsaritsa and Pierro’s plans. 

“So, it’s a secret between us? I doubt the other Harbingers would care. If it will be problematic for others to know, I’ll sneak in time with you anytime I get. Man, I never thought I would hit the dating scene again,” Tartaglia said, the kitchen showing in the distance. From how things looked from here, no one else would be present in the kitchen besides you two.

“Sure then. I have never dated. So I don’t get the appeal,” you said, getting closer to the kitchen’s entrance. You feel Tartaglia’s hand wrap around you. You lean into his frame, entering the empty kitchen. You sniff at the air, noting that nothing smelled burned yet. You move toward the oven.

“It’s simple, really. I get to admire your beauty, your grace. Teach you things, show you things. Do a lot more of what we just did earlier. And give you gifts,” Tartaglia said, moving away as you pulled the meats and potatoes from the oven. You give everything a nice shift with some thongs, seasoning and adding more oil as needed. Using a meat thermometer, everything appears nice and done. You grab a few platters putting the meat on one with potatoes on the other. You nearly forget the mention for fruits, glancing up to see a slim fruit selection. You climb up the metal cupboards, grabbing some pears, berries, and sunsettia’s. As you are able to descend, Tartaglia grabs you by the ass and carefully lowers you down. You blush at this. Once your feet touch the ground, you place the fruit in the sink to be rinsed. 

“That wasn’t in your summary,” you said, scrubbing away the dirt from the fruit. Soon you feel hands join yours, Tartaglia standing behind you. His hands wash off the dirt from the fruit too, tossing them over to the cutting board station. Tartaglia laughs, giving your forehead several kisses. 

“You’re adorable. Being with you now just makes me more excited to face you in combat,” Tartaglia said. You decide to shift your focus onto the fruit, ensuring each one got washed off before addressing the man behind you. 

“Sure, so you can beat me into the ground,” you said, heading on over to the cutting station. Tartaglia joins you, grabbing a knife of his own as he cuts some fruit besides you. It takes half the time, so you feel prepared earlier than normal. You arrange the fruits to look pretty, Tartaglia grabbing a few bites of pear early as per usual.  Just as you were sizing up the platters for travel, you feel Tartaglia’s hands embrace your body once more. 

“It’s not just that, promise. It’s a way to figure out where your training should start. And, okay, I really enjoy fighting. It’s just who I am,” Tartaglia said, stroking your hair. You shake your head, breaking away from the other as you prepare to take the plates to the dining hall. You could hear Tartaglia fall silent, not adding anything further. If that were true, why couldn’t you find a grunt or someone smaller to start out with? You had your doubts about what a necklace of pearls could do to help a powerless person as yourself.  

As you travel through Tartaglia’s portal, you wonder what Pierro would look like. You wondered if the man was human at all. As you become absorbed in your thoughts, you nearly forget the reason for your travel. You stop a step short from tripping against the dining room table. Your eyes open to see a couple of the usual suspects, along with a new guest. His face was much older, with a blond beard framing his face. You make quick work to drop down each platter of food, bowing soon after. 

“Ah, so this is the new girl. Tonight we debut her delusion, correct,” the older gentleman said, pouring himself a glass of champagne.  You nod at his words, Sir clearing his throat. You turn and then bow to him, his hands quick to drag you onto his lap to sit. Your eyes briefly gaze over Tartaglia. His face appears much different now–plain and at attention to the blond man Pierro. The older gentleman sits at the head of the table, his seat beside Dottore. You allow the other members to grab their portions of food before grabbing yourself. But, just as you reach for food, Sir swats your hand away.

“Yes. In fact, let’s avoid delay and start the fight right now. Get a feel for her abilities,” Sir said, pushing you off his lap. You barely manage to collect yourself, stopping yourself from falling on your face. You get more nervous now–he definitely noticed that hickey along your neck. And perhaps he could tell the stockings were ruined too. You stand up, bowing once toward Sir before walking away from the kitchen table. You hadn’t the slightest clue how you even use the necklace. 

You feel a weight to your side, noting the velvet pouch from before. It doesn’t take long for Tartaglia to stand a few feet away from you, shifting yourself further away from the dining table. You do a quick glance at the other guests, watching you with moderate interest.

“Ah, yes, the true test of strength. If she gets driven into madness from the delusion, surely Tartaglia will strike  her down easily. With pleasure even,” Dottore said. The Doctor kicks up his feet as he slides his plate of food onto his laps, eyes square on you. You feel exposed. You feel as if everyone could see the welt along your shoulder, the wet spray along your stockings. You inhale, nice and slow, hoping to focus up before battle. You give one final glance to Tartaglia, who is already in a battle ready position. If it weren’t for leadership being present, you wished so badly to talk about other aspects of your stay here. How you confirmed Tartaglia had feelings but put his mission before them. How the blood lust on his face appeared similar to one he held as he touched you below the belt. It all came down to how you would survive here–fighting the man who was somehow your boyfriend but also a personal trainer?

You  unzip the golden zipper which contains the pearl necklace. You see them, just as they appeared in your dream. You note how expensive they appeared, with such a shiny exterior you could see your own reflection in. You look at the pearls, now feeling the weight of the room on your shoulders. Could an object really hold the power to drive one mad, insane, to lose control of one's actions? 

“Are you going to just stare at your delusion or come at me? I’m getting tired of waiting, you know,” Tartaglia said, shadow boxing in place. You hover your fingers over the pearls, fingers shaking, unable to rid yourself of fear. Losing your autonomy was one thing, because it just went to Sir. But losing control of your mine, your sanity? That was something you were having difficulty with.

“We haven't got all night, girl. Equip the delusion and start the battle,” the older gentleman said, his voice sounding annoyed. You sigh, closing your eyes once more. You knew the endurance you had was rare to come by. And, after meeting with the Tsaritsa that gave you this thing, you knew it would bring you great power. You reach into the velvet pouch, immediately feeling a rush of energy run through your veins. Your hands make quick work to tie the necklace on, eyes focusing solely on your sparring partner. As the necklace is fashioned along your neck, you feel a stronger urge of power, the urge to use it–the urge to destroy . You feel your body as light as a feather, rushing toward Tartaglia, you see his eyes follow yours like a hawk, side stepping you. You reach your hand out, feeling ice tendrils grow along your fingers. You can hear the crowd gasp around you, those tendrils still growing as they chase after Tartaglia. 

“Finally, we can start the battle,” Tartaglia exclaims. His water weapons make icicles of your tendrils, longing forward at your legs. You feel thick ice grow as armor along your shins, the water weapons unable to pierce the icy barrier. You use this time to attack the man’s head. Tartaglia’s far too quick for this, jumping up in air with a backflip. Before you realize, a series of arrows shoot toward your face. You manage to dodge most with ease, but one clips your cheek. A line of blood runs down your cheek, dripping onto the dining room floor.

“First blood!” Dottore yelled out, chomping down on some of the boar meat you cooked. You wince at the feeling of being cut, the blood itself…freezing? You do a double take to see a bloodied tendril freeze, launching out of your face and toward Tartaglia’s foot. The tendril itself appeared as thick as a rope, with a line of blood running through the inside of said tendril. 

“Easy, so you are an amateur,” Tartaglia said. That was a fact–but why did it make your blood boil so? You could feel the tendril grow in speed and length. You feel the tendril make contact with Tartaglia’s boots. You leer your face back, the tendril tightening along the foot. You can feel and see Tartaglia kick his boots off. The tendril immediately dropped said boot and rushed toward Tartaglia’s foot instead.

You hear the man scream above, the sound of skin sizzling in the air. Tartaglia struggles and fails to remain on the ceiling, his body crashing onto the floor below. His pained breathing is matched with his blood lusty eyes, his weapons coming toward you. 

Moving your eyes, you see a freezer burn along where the tendril had wrapped around Tartaglia’s feet, burning into the man’s foot. The tendril now wraps itself around both feet in an attempt to stop more forward progress. Tartaglia continues to move forward, grunting through the pain and icy sizzle of your delusion. The blood in your icy tendril expands, breaking the ice as the sizzle sound becomes more pronounced. Tartaglia struggles but continues to lurch toward you, a familiar outfit switch showing. 

“Foul Legacy,” Tartaglia screams out, a red cape appearing along his back. You attempt to tear the tendril out of your face to no avail. You were coming up on a very dangerous Harbinger attacking you with what appeared to be electro powered weapons. You cross your arms to defend yourself, using a finger to grasp at one of your pearls. In a fluid motion, the tendril that has tied his feet grows larger, with a louder sizzling sound being made. 

“Aha, what is this, some sort of Cryo delusion? Or is it something new entirely?” Tartaglia asked, a hint of huskiness to his voice. You try to side step his attack, but he clips your side. You scream out as you feel more blood begin to leak along your waist, dripping onto the floor. 

Similar to the tendril on your face, a new tendril grows along your side. The ice forms thicker on this side, your body half-falling onto the ground. You struggle to continue breathing, hands planted firmly against the pavement beneath you.

“Calling it quits already? Or are you already scheming up another attack,” Tartaglia asked, suddenly appearing above you. You attempt to roll but the tendril on your side keeps you steady. A large plume of steam generates from your side, causing you to yell out in pain. The steam was red, mixed with what appeared to be ice raindrops. You could hear Tartaglia stumble to the ground beside you, letting out choked screams as well. It takes you to recall the tender moment you both shared earlier to not bathe in his blood, or rather, kill the man entirely. The delusion did grant you power–but it seemed to want ounces and liters of blood. The delusion did not care if it were your own or your enemies–it seemed to feed and get stronger from it. You struggle to raise to your feet, Tartaglia grabbing your own and  slamming you to the floor. You scream out, again, in pain and starting to feel sore. What was the word to stop a fight like this? You were beginning to doubt there had been a way to stop a fight like this, your hands already searching to injure the other man. But, as your arm reaches out, you see the blond-haired gentleman quickly disarm you of those pearls. You see now, hanging from the middle, what appears to be a Cyro Vision. The blond gentleman flourishes this to the rest of the team, the steam immediately cooling and those tendrils returning to regular blood. You cough up some more blood, unsure of how this fared for you.

“You got a ways to go. But not very many can land multiple blows on me, especially in Foul Legacy. I acknowledge your strength,” Tartaglia says, his voice strained as you see his red cape disappear. 

“A draw then? Awh pity,” Dottore muses, finishing up his meat as he moves over to his potatoes. The man you assume as Pierro then moves toward Dottore, shoving the pearls closer to the man's face. Dottore scans the entire thing, his eyes seeming to widen at the sight of the vision.

“How…and she got it, but when…” Dottore said. His words made little sense–though you hadn’t a clue what they were breathless for. It wasn’t like they were the ones going blow for blow in the dining room. With some help from Tartaglia, you manage to stand, hobbling over to your usual seat. You expect Tartaglia to do the normal, sane thing and drop you onto Sir’s lap. Instead, he sits you in the same seat, smiling as his arms wrap around you. You aren’t sure how to act, turning to Sir. You watch as Sir is already out of his seat, approaching the pearl necklace to look at with the rest. 

“Gaining a Vision from Celestia, then having a special delusion that allows the manipulation of blood? Surely, this is a great vassal you have found, Pantalone,” Pierro speaks, gesturing over to you. You half bow, barely able to stay conscious at this point. You manage to steal a piece of meat from Tartaglia’s plate, munching on it quickly.

“Indeed. This girl has led to a number of discoveries. Also, the updated plan for the Pyro gnosis. We’re about a month out from–” Sir began to state, but Pierro placed those pearls right into Sir’s hand and gave him a stern look. He slips the pearls back into the velvet pocket from before.

“A month, to train a girl that moves like that already? I give her two weeks. One if I was in a bad mood. But, she gets two weeks. And we proceed with our plan. Is that clear to every single Harbinger in the room? Mind, that now includes you, girl,” Pierro says, raising his glass of champagne. The men in the room nod, grinning at each other. You nod,  feeling another cough fit coming soon. You hear footsteps approach you. A glass is soon filled and placed beside you. 

“For the toast, new girl. We always toast when we finalize a plan,” Pierro said, placing the glance in your hand, “And we cheer to our god’s will.” You grab the glass, keeping it steady as the other present members lean into toast.

“For the Tsaritsa will!” the group chants, glasses clinking. You take a sip, noting you were no longer bleeding at all. Your free hand quickly notes the lack of blood along your side and your cheek. You began to doubt you were human at all. You were a monster–no–you knew what you were now. A Harbinger.

Chapter Text

You drink down the champagne with ease. You let it set in, what Pierro had said earlier. That you were now considered an integral part of the Fatui, a Harbinger no less. You rest against Tartaglia’s frame, taking glances at Sir. He seemed unbothered by the dynamics. That grin, smile, that pleased disposition–did Pierro know the secret behind that smile? 

“So, will we officially induct the girl when Damselette and Knave rejoin us? I doubt we will get full attendance–but it feels good to gain after absorbing such losses,” Dottore said. Your eyes scan the crowd, gauging reactions. Pierro thinks, considering options. 

“How about after the girl’s first mission?  Surely once we have Hydro and Pyro Gnoses in hand, we will have much time to spare for drink and celebration,” Pierro said. The group nods. You nod as well to show support of the decision. You can’t help but let your eyes wander to see Sir, your eyes meeting each other. There is a moment where you could make out the slightest strain in his eyes. His anger–that fizzle, it fades quicker than it came.

“We are in agreement then. Two weeks of training that will be followed by the girl’s deployment. There is also another positive report to be made. The girl’s communication’s system is fully online now,” Sir explains, gesturing over to you. You nod to this as well, sharing the food before you with Tartaglia. Pierro nods to this, enjoying his meal. 

During dinner, you take stock of what the past month has offered you. Debt-free but now saddled with the reality of being a criminal.  You had never stolen anything in your life, much less engaged in espionage. You make note to ask for some training or tips regarding spying. You were mostly just a normal girl. You grew up in the icy tundra and thought your life would remain in that region. But, ever since meeting Sir, that has made such a quick turn. You were with some of the most notorious folks ever to grace Tevyet. And what of this mysterious Traveler you had to keep an ear out for, too? All of it was enough to tire you out at the thought. You finish the plate of food in front of you, Tartaglia pushing the plate away from himself. You note the rest of the group finishes too, doing the same.

“Very good. We are well positioned to gain the power we seek,” Pierro said, rising from the table. You see a clown’s mask rise from the flooring, showing a wide hallway begin to stretch out from the wall. Pierro bows before you all, turning away.

“Continue giving good news,” Pierro said, his steps becoming echoy the moment his foot enters the hallway. And, with another foot in, the hallway disappears entirely. An emblem of a crying clown appears briefly, before dissipating. You do not take that view likely. You note it, assuming the man was of high power to match his rank.

“Ah, a good dinner, another great show! Pantalone, you do not cease to meet standards. But ah, what of the girl and Tartaglia?” Dottore said, grinning as he gestures between the three of you. You could feel your body fully healed by now, unsure if you should report this or if it were normal. You decide to raise your body up, stretching. You walk away from Tartaglia as if nothing happened. You continue stretching between the two men, Tartaglia stifling a chuckle. 

“What are you referring to?” you asked, playing dumb. You decide to downplay the fact you sat on another man's lap at dinner time, in front of the boss of all people. Your eyes turn to see Sir, pleased as ever, with an empty plate. You nod to Sir, bowing to show your respect. Before you are able to stand back up straight, you feel a knee launch straight into your stomach. You fall over, holding your stomach in pain. A plate crashes onto your back, shattering. So, perhaps in revenge, Sir was marking what was his. 

“Hm, so it is quickened healing. You still feel pain, just heal quicker,” Sir muses. You hear his footsteps beside your body. You hear his footsteps pause for a moment. And, again, a swift kick hits your side. You let out a groan, struggling to hold onto your stomach. 

“C-Correct,” you answer, your voice straining from pain. You hear Dottore raise from his seat, footsteps approaching. He hums along, his footsteps quick to join Sir by his side. 

“Ooo, is it time for experimentation my dear friend? To the lab?” Dottore asked, his voice filled with excitement. But that wouldn’t make sense. You were to train with Tartaglia now. You needed actual combat skills to survive out in the field. The two bosses made it clear you needed to be the mole in Mondstadt. If things ever came to blows, you needed fighting experience more than anymore tests of your resilience. 

“It seems you want the girl for other means now. No matter, gives me time to relax and prepare lessons before she’s deployed,” Tartaglia said. That boyfriend of yours seemed unphased by the way Sir was kicking you like a sack of potatoes.  You cough up blood at this point, a trail of blood surfacing along the floor. You hear the men above you chuckle at this. You feel pairs of arms grab at yours, one being from Sir and the other from Dottore. Was being your boyfriend worth seeing you like this, kicked around, pain inflicted to you–used like a lab rat? You could only hope Tartaglia could get you out of another surgery or a ploy to hear you cry out in pain.

You move your eyes toward Sir, struggling to keep them open. Your eyesight stays blurry for a bit. You can feel yourself being raised, placed along Sir’s shoulder. Sir slaps you along your back, the velvet pouch leaving an imprint. Dottore removes his arms from you, tsking as his eyes survey your entire body. You can’t see much else given your position, but a wry smirk crawls across his face. 

“Experimentation is on hold for now, since this one needs to heal from her fight,” Sir said. You relax at the sound, glad you would get a break from these other Harbingers.  You relax along his hold, seeing Sir’s symbol appear on the nearby wall. Dottore slouches in response, scowling. He snaps his fingers, walking away.

“Another day then, surely,” Dottore said, his symbol appearing on the opposite wall, “For now I return to my quarters. Boy–if you seek to be patched up–follow me at once.” Your eyes then move to Tartaglia, nodding as he’s quick to follow The Doctor. 

“Bring her to the dining hall for an early breakfast. That or drop her off, either is fine with me,” Tartaglia said as he began to walk toward Dottore’s symbol hallway. You hear Sir scoff at the suggestion, your body being pushed up slightly by his shoulder.

“Understood. I will be present for all moments of training when possible. Only a bit more banking needs to be handled before my scheduling is freed,” Sir said. 

No other words are exchanged as you enter Sir’s hallway, the above lanterns marked with Sir’s swirled palm emblem. You determine that the best words are silence, remaining quiet. Sir’s steps sound heavy as he continues treading down the hallway. Once you hear the steps hit wooden flooring, your eyes see the return of Sir’s room.

“We’ll get you cleaned up shortly,” Sir said, setting you down onto his bed. You stay seated, legs shut tight, gulping. You weren’t sure how much Sir could gleam from the past events. You remain quiet, not trying to give anything away in tone or words. To help ease the mood, you decide to report more positive news.  Sir would certainly praise you for the confirmation of Tartaglia’s loyalty. 

“I have information, regarding the side assignment you gave me,” you said, watching Sir disappear off into the bathroom. He returns with a white basin filled with soapy water, dropping it underneath your feet. He pulls at your legs, your feet meeting warm water. Sir’s symbol still glows vibrant with elemental energy along your stockings. The emblem appears to only grow brighter as it is met with the warm water of the basin.  You allow your feet to wiggle about in the water, watching as Sir removes his gloves. Those smooth, impeccable hands are revealed. 

You feel his long, gentle fingers remove your stockings, throwing them to a random corner of the room. Sir follows this up by immediately dipping your bare feet back into the warm water basin. His hands rub along your feet, relaxed humming exiting his lips. You weren’t sure why he wasn’t speaking but take cue to continue on your tangent from before.

“I got him to confess to admitting that acting on feelings on the girl–” you said, but hear Sir shush at you. You close your mouth. The sloshing of the basin water fills the room, your legs being washed with delicacy. Peering down, you can see the anger from before rise to his eyes. That anger, that feeling of rage was piling up in his irises. That smile along his face, that humming–it appeared a sign too well for more of that pain. You gulp, unable to hide your excitement of whatever was to ensue. You feel your heartbeat pick up, same with a shuffling of your feet. You note that Sir’s hands were only getting higher, the cloth in his hand dropping to the basin below as he reached your groin area.

“You are quite adept in getting men to confess sensitive information,” Sir said, lifting your dress over your shoulders. You raise your arms, allowing the dress to be removed from you. Next came your panties, his hands sliding them off. He throws them into the basin, too, with a grumble. 

“It’s annoying Tartaglia knows how to leave his mark in the ugliest of ways,” Sir said, raising the basin as he heads to the bathroom. You remain silent, unsure of what to say. The statement Sir just made brought attention to what Tartaglia did. You bite your lip as you fumble around words in your head, excuses, and a variety of solutions to the problem. You note that Sir is gone for several minutes, and the sound of rushing water can be heard from the other room. You remain seated, kicking your feet without a care. It wasn’t your fault that Tartaglia wanted to do what he did. And–with the excuse of the side mission–you couldn’t be blamed. You feel your lips curve into a smirk. What a perfect crime this was. You continued to listen to the rushing water, the quiet, the tension growing in the room. You were shushed earlier, but you fight the urge to speak up more. The fire in Sir just needed to be reignited. Then–you were sure to be treated like a ragdoll. 

The minutes continue to tick by. The water from the bathroom continues to run, though, you can barely make out another noise. It was hard to pinpoint what the other noise had been. You remain on the bed however, quiet as ever. After several more minutes, that water in the bathroom clicks off. You hear footsteps exit the room, with wetness showing across Sir’s face.

His body was still dripping wet from what appeared to be a shower. You blush, never seeing Sir nude like this before. Your eyes trail along his body. Oddly fit for a banker–matched with a number of scars scattered across his body. You see your scrunched up panties in one hand, wet and covered in a sticky substance. You note the salty smell as Sir approaches, wondering what the liquid had been. You were too bashful to check his groin, or to even take a quick peek at his cock.

“Open your mouth,” Sir instructed. You open your mouth without question, noticing Sir balling up those panties into a tight, small ball. The salty smell gets stronger as the panties are smashed into a smaller ball.

“Close your eyes,” Sir said, placing his free hand along your forehead. You close your eyes next. You feel the panties get shoved into your mouth, the salty taste filling your mouth along with the fabric. You want to ask why this was happening–but that would be fruitless. You knew Sir was pissed at the current situation. But what would shoving salty panties in your mouth do? You can feel Sir’s fingers shove the panties down further, close but not into your throat. Sir’s fingers crawl from your mouth to your lips, circling them. Your lips remain open, unsure of what to do next.

You feel Sir’s hands stroke your back now, his chest meeting your face soon after. You lean into his chest, wrapping your arms around him. Your hands feel up and down Sir’s back, soft, safe–relaxed. You feel Sir gently lay you against the bedding, his hands now moving strands of hair out of your face. You feel the bed shift around you, Sir’s body leaving your own. Sir’s weight leaves the bed, the sound of his footsteps becoming farther away, until you hear them echoing in the distance. Despite wanting so badly to open your eyes, you decide to keep them closed. There may have been a reason as to why Sir made you keep your mouth shut, your eyes closed, and rested you along the bedding. You knew Tartaglia was likely safe if he was out of the communal areas. But where else would Sir go if not to discipline Tartaglia?

You open your eyes to see a dark blindfold across your eyes. You shift your head around, trying to peak outside of the attached blindfold. You can’t see much–and if your judgment served you right–the lights were shut off in the room. You use your only available senses to gauge the area around you–smell and touch. Your fingers feel nothing but the soft bedding, and your nose is filled with that salty scent. 

You remain confused and deprived of your sight on the bed. You fumble about some but are able to sit up. You see something in the distance–glowing with elemental energy. You stand to your feet, slowly walking toward the marking. You realize it's those same stockings from before. You grasp them in your hands, moving over to the wall to try channeling a hallway. You do this successfully, the hallway opening up with the use of Sir’s emblem. You continue to walk down the hallway, using your hands to guide you. Now that you think about it, Sir never specified to stay where you were. As you continue down the path, you are soon led to a new room. With the blindfold on, it was hard to tell where it was. You were nude, unable to speak, and blindfolded. This may just be another one of Sir’s elaborate attempts of ‘play’ he mentions on and off.

Your hands feel around the walls of the room, the metallic surface reminiscent of the kitchen. You continue onward, letting the walls guide you as you feel more of that same metallic surface. You bump into what feels like a table–or was it the lab you found yourself in not too long ago? You feel your body being grabbed quickly, a familiar chest pressing along your face. 

“Lucky day for me! My girlfriend wanders into a lab, sans clothes, and with a little gift stuffed in her mouth,” Tartaglia said. You could hear his grin, his arms wrapping around your body. You return the embrace, stockings in hand. You so badly want to warn him of Sir and his impending anger. About how you may have set him up to be punished harshly by the same organization you recently joined. But those panties in your mouth would just continue to muffle your voice. You decide to just hug it out for now, in the middle of what feels to be a lab. 

“I’m surprised you were able to find me. Dottore just patched me up for some injuries, warned me really sternly about using Foul Legacy too much. That old guy just doesn’t like fun, I swear,” Tartaglia said, his hands stroking your back. You can feel one of Tartaglia’s hands swiftly raise you up, one underneath your ass and another holding your back close. Your arms stay snug around him, unable to speak a word. You allow your hands to talk for you, deeply massaging his back. You hear the other hum at the feeling, nuzzling your hair. You feel a smile grow on your face, leaving small kisses along his chest.

“We had a good match today. It was your first ever fight so I won’t judge you too harshly. Though I do have my wonders on why you’re here the way you are. What is in your mouth?” Tartaglia asked. You answer the best you can, with your panties in your mouth.

“Sir put it there,” you said, your words muffled beyond comprehension. Tartaglia simply laughs, raising his hand as he messes with your blindfold. As you feel the panties get extracted from your mouth, you inhale sharply, spitting out what little bits of saltiness remain on your tongue. This gets on Tartaglia, which you immediately apologize for. What you weren’t prepared for was what you saw as your eyes opened. A hand removes your blindfold, revealing the true nature of the room.

You observe the person in front of you first. They spoke like Tartaglia, acted like them–but it was for sure not them. You see thin, puppet-like strings attach to different parts of the man before you. His hair appeared accurate, but face plain. You follow where the strings lead, seeing the woman from earlier. She sits up high, appearing to be perched on a large machine. She cackles as your eyes connect with hers.

“Seems like I got the boy’s personality somewhat right. And, well, the rumors are true. You may be a bit out of your depth here, girl,” Sandrone said. Her gray hair is framed by some sort of white hair decoration of sorts. You stare up at her, unsure of what to do. You feel the puppet’s hand move from your back, throwing the panties that were once in your mouth. Sandrone catches them, pocketing them somewhere along her dress. You remain quiet. Sandrone was mentioned to be one of your sponsors, someone you had to stay in direct communication with. But one thing baffled you; why was she here? From your prior communication, she was out traveling. 

“Did you need to return for something, Sandrone?” you asked. She laughs at your words, shaking her head as her Tartaglia puppet raises you to its shoulders. This brings you closer to Sandrone, able to see more details on her person. She wore the same kind of Fatui coat most Harbingers wore. Her face is framed by two longer strands of light brown hair, eyes staring right at you. You wonder if she is not wanting to speak aloud, or rather, wants you to practice your internal monologue communication more. As you reach for your breast, she raises a hand. Your hand stops based on this, eyes watching the other for any other sudden moves. Another hand of Sandrone drags you by the shoulder, her strength impressive as she pulls you onto the front-end of her bigger robot-puppet creation. You get a good grip on the robot’s head, holding onto it to keep balance.

“Mission goals have been changed. The Traveler managed to escape from our clutches, Hydro gnosis in hand. We are having agents try tracking her movements, but most are struck unconscious by the time they make contact. This makes your mission more time sensitive and impactful. Pierro shortened your training period also to assist in locating The Traveler. The other girls and I will be locating The Traveler while the original team will still head to Natlan. Pantalone was supposed to brief you, but an urgent matter came up,” Sandrone explained. You listen to the other girl closely, hands holding onto the puppet you both were on for dear life. The height of this massive creation impressed you. You catch yourself wondering if Sandrone was their main engineer. You nod as you listen to what updates Sandrone had to relay.

“Thanks for the update. Why did you not want to share that information out yet?” you asked, Sandrone’s smile fading. You note the serious look on her face.

“Because it was not needed. I came back specifically to tell them in person. Besides, when I tried to send a transmission, all I could hear from your end was…” Sandrone said, your face blushing at all the awkward times she could have tried to communicate with you. You nod quickly at the words, Sandrone trailing off as you get the gist as to why she decided against transmitting it via the internal monologue communication. 

“Understood. I will be readily available when I am deployed,” you said, sighing, “These past few days have just been anomalies.” Sandrone notes this, her large robot rising from its position. You duck your head to avoid hitting it against the ceiling, noting the Tartaglia doll is nowhere to be found now. You shrug your shoulders some, trying to see if there were any new puppet strings attached to you this time. 

“I will assume that is the truth,” Sandrone said, her hand coming to cover yours, “Otherwise, that could be seen as insubordination. And we give harsh punishments for that.” You nod to Sandrone’s words, eyes trailing to the pocket where she placed your panties. It was getting the best of you–why did she need those?

“Excuse me, but, why did you need my underwear? It’s confusing me quite a bit,” you said, tilting your head as you feel the robot shake and move around the room. You take a moment to glance around the area. It was covered in different blueprints and schematics. Even the flooring had a blueprint or two pinned to it. You could only assume this was a workshop of sorts. It must have been communal, given the fact that other Harbingers could not enter each other's rooms without consent. Your eyes return to the girl before you, who smile opens to a burst of laughter. 

“One word: Blackmail. I could tell Pantalone was in one of his usual fits of rage again, given your status. My thoughts are, if you never left that room, you would never be trained for combat. He would just keep you there as a ragdoll to beat up on. Not my style, but everyone has their own kinks it seems. If you desire that, I will let you freely go back to his quarters. Otherwise, you are welcome to sleep in my room for the time being,” Sandrone said, her hand tugging at yours. This causes you to jerk forward, face heading toward Sandrone’s. You grip the head of the machine tighter, the stocking in your hand dangling. Sandrone notes the elemental energy attuned to the stocking, sliding her hand down to draw along it. A symbol of a person attached to strings and a cross section of wood is drawn. A new set of elemental energy is sensed along the stocking, glowing a light gray. You nod at this, assuming this would give you access to Sandrone’s domain. You wonder if the blackmail was more for you than Sir, though. The threat toward Sir would be senseless. There was nothing for him to lose, it was just you. 

“But what use is that blackmail?” you asked, seeing Sandrone burst into more laughter. Her eyes trace your finger, her hand once again reaching out to grab your own. She draws small circles along the back of your hand, remaining quiet. Maybe she was deciding if you were trustworthy of the information. Maybe she was thinking of a way to spin it to be negative for Sir. 

“I’m sure that Banker is furious you left right now. I could sense he was in a mindset of anger, destruction. But Pantalone isn’t one to destroy at random. He chooses what he wishes to mark, to break–to disappear. And he’s already done two of those things to you. He can’t do the third option, as we have our mission to complete. So, the man’s frustrated, evidently in more than one way,” Sandrone said, lifting the panties and giving them a sniff. You shrug, unsure of what that meant. Sandrone shakes her head at you, the heavy steps of her machine pounding along the floor. She places the panties back, letting out a loud sigh.

“Too innocent for this, I swear,” Sandrone mutters, “At least that makes you sincere. For what it’s worth, playing hard to get is typically the way to go with men. I do suggest you make up your mind shortly, before I end up leaving you here.” Sandrone was right. You had options. You couldn’t sleep in Tartaglia’s room since you had no ‘key’ per say.  You could rest with Sandrone, let things blow over, and go back to Sir when his head cooled. But…there was hunger in the pit of your stomach. A hunger for pain, to feed Sir’s desires to hit and beat you. It wasn’t quite in your job detailing, but it felt needed in your soul. You nod toward Sandrone, clearing your throat. Her eyes focus on you.

“I will return to his quarters. I know what I may get for letting you keep those panties, but I don’t care. It may lead to some interesting conclusions,” you said, grinning. You note Sandrone observes your features, the machine you’re resting on grabbing you by the back and placing you onto the floor. 

“Very well. If you ever change your mind, you have a ‘key’ to my room so to speak. The men here can be quite controlling, so to have an escape can be beneficial,” Sandrone said, her puppet emblem glowing on the opposing wall, “Even if I am not present, I insist you stay. Us girls must have some safety.” You nod toward her words. A thumb covers Sir’s emblem, your other hand pressing against the wall in front of you. The palm-swirled hand emblem shows, matching with lanterns leading you back to his room. You make your way to Sir’s  room, humming along.

You begin to wonder if you could gather each of them emblems on your stockings. How valuable would they become then? To have access to each of their rooms, and none to your own? I smile grows into a smirk on your face, seeing Sir’s room in the distance. He sits along the bed, eyes turning to stare over at your slow approaching body. As you enter the room, you note Sir is nude, lying on the bed. His face watches your own. You nod, smiling.

“So, in a matter of days you continue to disobey me. Leave my room, get tarnished by that Tartaglia–even show combat skills you claimed to have lacked. I’ll be honest. Perhaps that spirit is what made me like you in the first place,” Sir said, sitting up and grabbing you by the wrist. You jerk downward, falling onto the soft bedding below. Sir wraps his arms around you, tight, nude body rubbing against your own. This wasn’t exactly what Sandrone alluded to. You weren’t being beat up or hurt. If anything, the man seemed to be sulking. 

“But it doesn't matter. Tonight may be the last night I get you in my arms. Pierro’s ordered the construction of your room to begin. It should be ready by tomorrow evening. Unless you give me permission, I will be unable to continue our previous play,” Sir added. Now, was it a good time to ask what the man meant by play? It confused you. Pain was part of whatever play meant, but getting a solid definition would help you make a choice.

“What is play, after all? You keep saying that, but I don’t understand,” you said, seeing Sir erupt in a series of laughing fits. The first involves him hugging you tightly, his hard cock turning limp. His lips kiss along your face, his hands moving hair away from yours. His laughter doesn’t stop after a minute, even several. The confused look on your face continues to grow, tilting your head. You begin to rest your head along the other's chest, his arms wrapping around you.

“I see. Perhaps you got this far just by playing a part. Play, for me, is when I inflict pain on you. When I dry you off, clean you up, slap you around some. Play is me doing whatever I want to you. Play was having you as the live-in cook, messing with you, teasing you. But that transforms now you are one of us, officially. I enjoy a certain dynamic, you see,” Sir explains, his lips leaving soft kisses along your temple. You lean into those kisses, returning them with a sloppy kiss along his cheek. He laughs at this, tapping your back. You look up toward his face to see his lips crash into yours, pulling back shortly after.

“I like it when I hurt those less than me. But now, you are not less of me. So it’s not as much fun. But there’s much other things we can do. I take it you are an innocent soul who doesn’t even know what those examples stem from, yes?” Sir said, slipping his hands securely along your waist. You nod, wanting to make it clear you were just going with the flow. With you spending the majority of your life as a child or sick, you hadn’t the chance to really understand some of these dynamics. Or where they even came from. Sir’s lips press along yours, lightly, before pulling away.

“There’s something about your innocence. I want to keep it, jar it, keep it away from everyone else here. Especially that damned Tartaglia. But play stems from something called BDSM. The short of it is, doing things that are considered kinky. Some common things are spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk. I like some of the more extreme versions of it. Despite what some of the members may say, they are as into it as I. Maybe into different aspects, but we all get lonely. Curious. Excited over some portion of BDSM. I won’t say much else about the others beyond that. It’s just, with you. I feel safe, secure. Even with your new title, I still feel this sense of superiority I want to have over you. And that’s where your consent needs to come into play,” Sir explained, leaving gentle kisses along your jaw, “I want to slap you, hurt you, kick you. Cut you. But I know of the importance of your current mission and the training you must undergo. All I desire is just a night or two before your deployment with me. Some heavier play, yes, cutting and the like.” You mull this new information over. You knew rich folks had time to spare, but to do terrible things out of boredom or excitement caught you off guard. It made you wonder what the other members enjoyed–or if they had darker desires than Sir. Your eyes move to his, smiling. If you were to get your own room, then, dating Tartaglia may be possible. But…your connection with Sir still felt strong. And if being with Tartaglia would hurt Sir, then, problems would still arise. What Tartaglia didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“So, you’re looking for permission to hurt me? Huh, how the times have changed. I think, once I’ve settled into my training regime, I will let you know of a date and time. But I am interested. When you picked me this past Valentine's Day, you awakened something in me. I think I rather enjoy being hurt, being in pain. If not, why am I here now?” you said, leaving similar kisses along Sir’s jawline. You listen to his intrigue being piqued, his face pulling away from yours. An arm of his slithers off your back and along your jaw, tilting your head upward. He looks at your features, twisting your head this way and that.

“Very curious, you are. Besides Dottore, you are the first to be so forthcoming with your likes. It excites me. Don’t take that lightly,” Sir said, leaving kisses along your neck this time, biting down, “Two of the same, yet, completely different. I wish you could stay in my quarters until you leave. It’s been much easier, waking and sleeping with someone to tend to. Perhaps Dottore is right, I need a pet of some sort.” You open your mouth, about to say something, but close it. Sir notes this, pushing at your cheeks to open your mouth.

“Go on. You  have comments, you share them,” Sir said, staring you down. You nod the best you could with the position you were in now.

“I can be a pet, well, for now,” you said. Pleasing and disappointing Sir seemed part of your favorite type of play. And, if being a pet helped him to any capacity, you could continue it on until deployment. You watch as a smile comes across Sir’s face, his lips colliding with your own. He drops his hand, straddling you on the bed. Your hands fall to either side of you, focusing on the kiss along your lips. Sir’s lips moved from your lips down to your neck, sucking down right where Tartaglia’s lips were. You wince, groaning out as your legs tightly stay together.

“Mmm, if that’s the case, let’s make sure the markings prove it,” Sir muses, sucking down hard along your neck. You arch your back at the sensation, groaning out as your nipples harden.  Sir notes this, using his hands to twist them even more. You groan out, louder this time, the piercings hurting more than last time. You weren’t sure if it was because Sir did it intentionally or another reason at all. All you knew was the searing pain coming from your nipples, burning with that desire, that mutual passion you both shared. 

“Mmmrph, more,” you cried out, grinding your closed legs along Sir’s bare body. He chuckles at this, raising his hand before slapping along your legs several times. You let out a few screams, enjoying the pain, feeling your skin turn red at the feeling. Sir starts to bite down along your shoulder, both hands at attention to your puffy, red nipples. You couldn’t stop crying out. If not for the way the hideout was constructed, you could swear the others could hear your cries. You continue to beg, plead, demand for more pain. After going so long without as much of a slap from him, you were getting it now. You continued to groan and moan as Sir teased you every which way. How his fingers tugged and pulled along your nipples. How his mouth greedily bit and sucked along your neck, creating an irritated patch of skin. You could even feel teeth marks leak blood. It all felt wonderful. It lets you worry less about tomorrow and more about how much marking Sir would leave on you.

“My pet, good pet,” Sir whispered along your ear, biting it soon after. You gasp at the feeling, eyes closing to focus on the sensation. You purr, like any good pet would. Sir chuckles at this, pressing his nose against yours. You open your eyes to see him staring at you, a relaxed smile on his face. Despite the number of times you had seen him smile before, it felt like a true one. A honest smile from the heart.

“Thank you, Master,” you reply, nuzzling the side of Sir’s neck. He holds you, stroking your back with a certain tenderness. 

“What is the true relationship between you and Tartaglia?” Sir asked. This catches you off guard, your eyes looking elsewhere before Sir grabs at your face once more. The force he presses along your cheeks makes them blush without stimulation. The look in his eyes, that fire from before–it was growing to an entire eruption of anger. And you were the subject of it all. You wanted nothing more than this right now. It felt right. It felt comfortable.

“We are dating, casually. Will that be a problem, Master?” you said, wondering just how bad Sir’s fire would burn. The hand around your jaw loosens, only for another to slam against your face. A handprint feels like it’s been imprinted along your cheek. That same slap is repeated once, twice–all the way until you could hardly feel that part of your face anymore.

“Hmm. It seems you have done this to anger me,” Sir said, switching up his slaps to hit the other side of your face. You remain still, quiet, taking your punishment. You deserved it after all. You were given the chance to not be his pet, his doll, his anything. You could have left to your own room, or Sandrone’s. But you chose to be here. You chose to be slapped until your face went numb. You chose to stare up at Sir with those cold eyes of yours. And, just as he was standing before you, chose to continue lying down. 

“Anger? It appears you misunderstand, Master. He came on strong. I saw it as a chance to get the truth about the Traveler. Don’t we all win this way,” you said, trying to make your intentions clear. This doesn’t stop Sir’s current slapping rampage. He continued his assault along your neck, until you felt the entire thing was on fire. Sir spoke not a word more, continuing to let out his true emotions along the canvas that was your body.

As the minutes passed, your pale body bloomed with bruises. Blood, bruises–and teeth marks littered your body. And you said not a word–no groaning, moaning or any sound. Those noises were only allowed by good girls. And you were not good.

“Find your means and ends. At the end of the day, the anger goes onto your body. It paints you. And we find our middle ground,” Sir said, finishing up his brutal attack on your legs. Bruises covered nearly every part of your body. From your face down to your toes, blood, bruised tissue, or a deformity could be discerned. With all that had transpired, you could barely feel anything. The euphoria of all the pain, pleasure–and desire grew and bloomed again and again across your groin. The wet patch in Tartaglia’s bed paled in comparison to this.

“At least you are a good pet, taking your punishments so well. Shall we get you cleaned up, Kitten?” Sir asked. You nod with what strength had remained, seeing Sir disappear and come to view again. That same white basin from before was present, along with several healing salves. The injury dressing, the caretaking, the gentleness of his hands. It allowed time for your heated body to relax some. 

You feel him first approach your groin, pulling your legs a part with ease. His gloved finger enters your sex, swirling around to listen to wet, gushy noises.

“Perhaps we are a rare match. I have never felt a woman so excited by being beaten,” Sir muses, removing his hand and then glove. You remain quiet, closing your eyes as Sir cleans off your privates with precision and care. Next came your arms, legs, and finally, face. A cool cloth drapes itself along your face. 

“Keep this on overnight. It should reduce the swelling come time for your training. If Tartaglia dare asks how or why–” Sir began to speak, but you had to make things clear here.

“I’ll lie. He wouldn’t understand this. He would make assumptions, get himself on a mission to fight you to the death. And I can’t have my Master and boyfriend kill each other,” you respond, shaking your head slow. Sir chuckles at this, leaning over to deliver a soft kiss against your masked lips. 

“Good girl,” Sir whispers along your ear, kissing it after. Those two words made you reel again, biting your lip out of excitement. You were officially good again. It would be a matter of time before you ended up on Sir’s naughty list once more.

And you only grew more excited at the thought.

Chapter Text

The ice was thick along the shore. You, Ajax, and your respected fathers were out on an ice fishing expedition today. Ajax reaches a hand out to grab your own, slowly sliding along the icy surface. You could hear both your dad’s laugh, shaking their heads at you. They gently push you and Ajax along the surface, until you are several yards away from the shore. 

Today was your fathers birthday. He loved nothing more than ice fishing when the ice was thick and the air you breathed out looked like plumes of smoke. You were dressed in thick layers of fur and leather. Ajax was dressed in a similar fashion, mostly hiding behind his own father.

Orange hair peeks out from his hoodie, his face obscured by his bangs.

You woke up in Sir’s arms, the both of you still nude from the night before. You yawn, tapping along Sir’s body to wake him. You see his blue eyes open, a yawn leaving his mouth too. He brings you close to him once more, stroking your hair, then back, before delivering a slap along your ass. You giggle at the feeling, nuzzling that chin of Sir’s. 

“Good morning, Master,” you purr into Sir’s ear. He chuckles at this, taking your lips in his. You kiss him with passion, relaxing into the other. 

“Well, let’s get you cleaned up before your training,” Sir said, gently pulling the mask off your face. The mask comes off with ease. You were feeling less sore around that area already. You let Sir grab you by the wrist, removing you from the bed. Sir leads you into the bathroom, setting you down in the tub. After Sir pours a few different liquid soaps around you, you lean down to get a whiff. Lavender, honey—was that dragon fruit too? Inhaling all of the sweet scents put a smile on your face. You hear Sir laugh at this, ruffling your hair. 

“So cute,” Sir whispers along your ear, kissing your cheek as he begins to run warm water. You relax in the tub, letting your arms hang on either side. The sweet smell from before swells in the air. You inhale deep, getting a good smell  of everything. You exhale, closing your eyes as your body wiggles about the bathtub. 

You hear a splash, eyes opening to see Sir join you. Lofa in hand, he begins to scrub at your legs, humming. You relax into Sir’s touch. There was something that was comforting when Sir cleaned you off. There was no expectation of you to do anything–you simply existed. His scrubbing is mechanical at this point, switching to your other leg. There was this understood silence between you two. This silence allowed for relaxation, a bit of softness before you were thrown into training. You  extend your legs as Sir taps the bottom of your feet, allowing Sir to get underneath your ass and other crevices. 

You flip onto your belly, allowing Sir to reach other areas too. You listen close to his humming. It still comforted you, especially now that you understood more of what Sir desired. You feel his arms turn you around, again, scrubbing along your chest this time. A squirt of shampoo is soon poured onto your hair, fingers moving to scrub that into your scalp. You remain still, closing your eyes as you allow Sir to do as he wished with his pet. You were good which meant Sir was treating you like a doll. When you were bad, he treated you like a ragdoll. You wonder what would become of the dynamic if you were ever outside of the binary of good and bad. Were there other types of dolls you could be to Sir? And, now that you were taking on the ideal of a pet, what other things could you do?

Sir moves from your hair to the remainder of your body, scrubbing your shoulders, belly, and waist. Every now and then you give your hair a nice shake, giggling–then letting out a soft purr along Sir’s face. He laughs at you when you do this, playfully smacking your ass in response. This encourages you more than deters you, but you figure that’s the point of it all. Seeing all these different facets of Sir encouraged you to act out. So what if he could beat you down, leave bruises–sometimes cuts? It all felt good at the end of the day. It all felt like part of some bigger, happier event that was happening. You did not have the words to describe it, simply that you felt at peace. Unworried when things got rough, since, that’s part of what you were after.

“Close your eyes,” Sir instructs, scratching underneath your chin. You obey, closing your eyes with a smile. That hand under your chin moves to your hair, scrubbing in the soap. You hear a basin come over your head, covering your face in water. This step is repeated several times, along with the addition of more shampoo. You keep your eyes closed, but sneak in a  touch or two along Sir’s waist. He jerks away when you do this, tutting at you. 

“What a sneaky kitten you’ve become,” Sir said, nuzzling your sud-filled face. You nuzzle his face in return, leaving small kisses along his face. You feel the basin cover you in water a few more times, your hair feeling lighter, much less greasy. A dry cloth wipes along your face, a variety of products following up. Was Sir putting makeup on you, really? You smile at the thought, keeping your eyes closed as ordered. 

After what feels like a few minutes of application, Sir lifts you from the tub. He places you onto your feet. You stand, stretching with a yawn. You were getting too used to being his pet. You knew you had other responsibilities, but this would have been easy. Get washed every morning, body rubs, and constant praise–that was a dream. Sir may not have been a traditional husband in that sense, but it felt nice. 

“Open your eyes,” Sir said. You do so, seeing your face in the mirror. Your face appeared normal, as if nothing had occurred the other day. The rest of your body was another story. Red,  bruised skin was visible from every which direction. Certain bruises also had red slits where Sir managed to leave cuts along your body. Lastly, your shoulder was beet red from Sir and Tartaglia’s lips yesterday. You raise a hand to touch your shoulder, wincing at the feeling. Your entire body shivers at the feeling, a smile shining across your face. In the mirror, you could see your puffy nipples managing to get hard again. 

“Mmm, you must prepare breakfast, don’t tempt me,” Sir whispers along your ear, using two hands to hold along your waist. He nuzzles your neck, licking the red spot along your shoulder. You groan at the feeling, squishing your legs together. Your hands attempt to pull Sir’s away, but he holds on tighter along your waist. You feel Sir grind against you from behind, his hard cock pressing onto your ass. You shiver more at this, knees buckling. You struggle to stay standing, your nerves going crazy at how Sir’s tongue felt. His tongue moved slowly, but with such pressure behind it. It was causing even more irritation along your neck, making you shiver, ache–want more. You lean into the feeling for a moment, before Sir uses his hand to force you to look toward the mirror.

You see yourself again, with all the redness and bruises. You were unphased by the appearance, perhaps even aroused. All of this inflicted by the man behind you. The man who treated your wounds, whispered sweet words, took care of you. You now ealize what Sir must have been waiting for. 

“Thank you for this,” you whisper, feeling Sir’s fingers massage your chin. You feel those fingers gently massage at your neck, raising to your mouth. You ease into the feeling, purring against that delicate hand. 

“That’s it, good girl,” Sir whispers, licking at your earlobe. You nod, smiling, staring straight at the mirror. There was something about him you could not reject. Life would prove more fun with more complications thrown in. So what if Sir was the one who brought you here–it was his movements and gestures that kept you longing for more. As Sir’s fingers leave your face, it leaves you missing them, longing for their touch–their precision. 

He moves away from your back, giving your ass several smacks. You groan out, doing your best to stay still. Sir continues to stand besides you, seeming to observe your reactions. He moves toward the bedroom, staying in there for a minute before coming out with a dress. It was much shorter than the past dresses Sir offered. In addition, the fabric was lighter. A simple pair of bra and panties are in Sir’s hand too. 

“Well, starting today, you won’t be wearing anything too flashy. We are still developing your cover story for when you are stationed in Mondstadt. When we have the details more fine tuned, you will be briefed before departure,” Sir explained. He starts by slipping on your undergarments first. Those fingers of his glide along your nipples as the bra is placed onward. The same is done when he slips your underwear on, a lone finger drags along the slit of your pussy. You groan out at this, muttering to Sir that you had to focus on the mission. Sir laughs at this, leaving a soft kiss along your face. He seems to listen to your words, flourishing the dress in front of him.

You raised your arms to allow the dress to fit along your figure. A one strap black dress clung to your body, stopping just above your legs. This showed off the cuts and bruises you earned last night. You look at yourself in the mirror, smiling, liking the fit. It would prove easy to move around in as Tartaglia taught you whatever techniques he knew. You also nod to SIr’s words, noting the need for a cover story. You weren’t a great liar or one to tell good stories. You figure to leave that work to the brighter minds of the organization, flourishing your still wet hair. You shake it on instinct, Sir chuckling. You feel a comb drag through your hair, combing through several different places. The damp hair left some drops of water along the top of your dress. You shrug at this, allowing Sir to continue dressing up his doll for today. Once the comb went through your hair with ease, Sir gathered up your hair into one, tall ponytail. You feel a sharp sensation along your scalp, causing you to wince some. Your eyes focus on your head, straining your eyes to see some elemental energy in your hair. An icy needle protrudes from your hair, keeping it in place. You smile at this, Sir likely seeing this as a means to keep your head cool and show who you were owned by. 

“You should be ready to go now. I’ll get your stockings cleaned while you are training today. That ice shard in your hair should allow you free access to the communal areas. Please, stay safe and keep me updated on Tartaglia,” Sir said, leaving kisses along your cheek. You nod, patting his back as you make your way out of the bathroom. You press a hand along the wall of the bedroom, seeing Sir’s symbol glow a neon blue before the hallway opens before you. 

“Goodbye Master,” you said, waving to Sir. He waves back, a smile on his face. You traverse the hallway, watching as the path behind you closes. You continue onward, reaching what appears to be the kitchen. The smell of fresh cinnamon hits your nose first. You smile at the scent, having the sneaking suspicion Tartaglia made you breakfast. As you get closer to the kitchen, more delicious breakfast smells come to your nose. 

As you step foot  into the kitchen, a bare chested Tartaglia stands in front of a variety of breakfast foods. Eggs, cinnamon rolls, bacon, and finally, a pair of fruit smoothies. 

“I may have gone a bit overboard,” Tartaglia said, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his head. You take another step forward, smiling at the breakfast before you. That was one less thing to worry about at least. You move to raise the platters the food had been on, only to be stopped by Tartaglia. 

“Breakfast's in the kitchen today. No need to go anywhere else,” Tartaglia said. A bare arm comes to wrap itself around you, holding you securely to him. You nod, grabbing a cinnamon roll. You could still feel the heat of the oven on the baked goods, warming your fingers as you go in for a bite. The inside was fluffy, soft while the outside gave a nice crunch as you bit inside. You continue munching on the cinnamon roll, Tartaglia glancing over your body. 

“What’s with all the bruises? Cuts? Did you start your training earlier,” Tartaglia asked. You shrug, continuing to stuff your face with the breakfast before you. You did not want to disclose anything that could cause conflict between Harbingers. It was best to keep things vague for now. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. What’s the first lesson teacher,” you said, reaching for the fruit smoothie. Just as you take a sip of it, Tartaglia wraps his other arm around you, leaning his head onto the top of yours. You giggle at this, hoping he was going to teach you something. There was something about being spoiled–but that would not help you in the field. If anything, it could get you killed. 

“The first lesson is about your observational skills. They can be critical in determining your next move. In and out of combat, noticing the details is crucial. For example, this red mark along your neck,” Tartaglia explained, turning you to face him, “Is awfully irritated. It could be from a soap that you’re allergic to. Or, more than likely, another person.” You shrug. You look back at Tartaglia’s blue eyes, his eyes seeming serious. You give nothing away, crossing your arms.

“Oh? Being silent won’t help here,” Tartaglia said, immediately biting down along the red spot. You grimace, struggling to stand straight. You hold in groans that want so badly to be let out. You feel hot blood drain from where his teeth dug, lines of blood rushing down to your dress. Your free hand scrambles to find the counter, using that to assist in keeping your body upright. Your lips tremble at the feeling, trying so hard to remain quiet. 

“What a stubborn girlfriend I found myself. What do I need to do, beat the truth out of you,” Tartaglia whispered along your ear. You shiver at that. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to face. You remain quiet, hand firm on the countertop below. The smoothie in your hand managed not to slip. You move your face to take a sip of it, keeping your words to yourself. If Tartaglia wanted to beat on you too, you had no qualms with it. 

Tartaglia scowls at your current silence, biting down on your neck once more. New lines of blood rush from the irritated area. You stifle a groan. You hand grips onto the countertop while the other barely manages to place the smoothie back onto the counter. The minutes tick by, Tartaglia continued his assault along your neck. Those neck bites would be impossible for Sir to miss. In fact–this would surely seal your fate for another beating with Sir later tonight too. A smirk shows on your face, the noises you were holding in screaming in your head. The feeling of being bitten, manhandled, and tossed around excited you.

“So shamelessly stubborn,” Tartaglia mused. You feel his teeth withdraw from your neck. You exhale sharply, finally getting a break from the bite wounds that came back to back. You feel Tartaglia wrap his arms around your waist, lifting you over his shoulder. You show no signs of struggle. A neon light blue narwhal symbol appears along the side of the kitchen.

“Grab our drinks, it’s time to train,” Tartaglia said, “As much as I want to hurt you for other reasons, we can’t lose sight of our mission.” You use your hands to grab the drinks as Tartaglia rushes through the hallway. You can see the colors brighten. You shut your eyes, unsure why Tartaglia’s hallway was always so bright. Soon, Tartaglia’s footsteps stop. You open your eyes to see yourself in a large, expansive room. You feel yourself being put down by Tartaglia, who grabs your drink and takes a large sip.

Your eyes try to take in more details about the room around you. Some walls have large chunks of metal missing, while others had scraps going all the way up to the ceiling. If you focused hard enough, you could see small traces of elemental energy.  You strain your eyes as you search across the room. You were doing your best to match the energy to the Harbingers you have met thus far. From what you could tell, Sandrone, Dottore, and Capitano used this place the most. Your eyes continue to search for other details, Tartaglia slurping down the drink in his hand. It seemed that Tartaglia was already slurping down the rest of your smoothie. You make nothing of it now, figuring you would drink the other one instead.

“This is our training center. There are more sections to it, but this is the main area where we practice our hand-to-hand combat skills. I noticed you didn’t bring your delusion with you today. So, I take it, you want to learn more of what you can do, without that helping you,” Tartaglia said, stretching. You nod, needing to learn more basic combat and defensive skills. You did not foresee yourself initiating an attack on anyone when out on deployment. Defensive skills were more the type you wanted to know. You hadn’t forgotten about needing to learn espionage skills, too.

“There’s a lot I want to learn with not too much time to do it. I want to focus on defensive skills, spy stuff–” you said, getting cut off by Tartaglia’s lips. He raises your body up by placing an arm on either side of your body.  You manage to lower the drink to the ground before it has the chance to shatter. You listen as the glass struggles not to tip over before balancing on its bottom. The purple mix of what seemed to be lavender fruit and pear came off strong the moment you dropped it, mixed with a bitter scent. Wait–if today was observational skills–had one of the smoothie’s been drugged? You put that worry in the back of your mind, returning attention to Tartaglia. 

You keep your eyes alert, noticing Tartaglia raise a leg. You pull your lips away, pushing him away just in time before the kick would have connected with your body. Sliding away from you, Tartaglia cackles. He rushes back toward you, hands on either side of him. You stand up straight, unsure what to do next. 

Tartaglia hops into the air, a water bow forming in his grasp. You manage to dodge all of his arrows this time, noting the small dent they leave in the flooring below. He wasn’t going easy on you–good. Boyfriend or not, Tartaglia had a job to do. You dodge to your left, hopping over as a kick connects with your back. You yell at the feeling, a searing pain running along your back as you fall. Your hands try to diagnose the damage, only to feel a searing pain along your finger as well.

“Tsk tsk, touching boiling water is bad for you, ya know,” Tartaglia said, kicking your body. You flip onto your back, groaning at the feeling. Your skin must have been scorched by Tartaglia’s water vision. You had no clue that was something one could do. You have more questions now. Were you able to control how cold your Cyro vision got–and if so–how? You open your mouth to reply, only to see a foot coming  down your face at breakneck speed.

You move your face with barely enough time for you to avoid a potentially damaging attack. The ground underneath Tartaglia’s foot feels dented in, a blood-lusty look in your boyfriend’s eyes. You smirk at this, slipping onto your feet once more. You continue to back off from Tartaglia. The Harbinger wastes no time in trying to attack again. Tartaglia has two water blades form along his hand and wrists, lunging forward with one pointed directly at your face. You do your best to dodge to the left this time. The force and speed with which the blade comes without warning. You wince, feeling a similar burning from before. A fresh cut of blood runs down your shoulder, the strap which your dress stayed upward struggles to remain on you. The bits of fabric were torn apart from the blade, the dress itself staying upright with few stitches intact. You did your best to keep up the pace, moving backward even faster now. Tartaglia continued to gain on you, lunging forward with the other blade this time. You decide to duck to evade the attack this time, Tartaglia simply moving his blade downward to match this. You think of a clever way to dodge now, sliding between the Harbinger’s legs.

“Nice,” Tartaglia muses, your body slipping away from the other. You continue the pace. You wondered why Tartaglia did not have you start on simpler tasks. You knew of some basic training things. Running, push ups, sit ups–that’s what you were expecting. But Tartaglia simply threw you into battle. 

You stop moving when you note Tartaglia standing still, facing away from you. You watch as he slowly turns around, a smile wide on his face. You see the water blades along his wrist and hands fade. 

“Excellent response time. Could use some more stamina though, some more channeling of your own vision too,” Tartaglia said, making steps toward you. You prepare for anything, ready to fight once more. But Tartaglia wraps his arms around you, laughing. 

“You are totally a sleeper agent, I swear! The way you move doesn’t even seem like you were sick at all. I’m wondering if you are trying to trick me. I remember that day we went ice fishing–what I saw–what we all saw. You are an absolute unit,” Tartaglia said, laughing as he slaps your back. You laugh too, stretching your body some.  That burning feeling along your back was still there, but dulled. Much like your memory. You still could not recall that full memory. It was like the memory itself was blocked off by some greater force. All you knew was the Tartaglia from back then was different from the one hugging on you now. 

“I don’t know, my body just reacts well. Here we are,” you said, hugging your boyfriend in return, “Now is it time for me to do things like stamina building things? Like running laps and all that junk?” Tartaglia laughs at that, picking you up in his arms. 

You note the drink below, curious. Based on your boyfriend’s reaction, he likely had other plans for today’s first training lesson. You gesture toward it using your hand, Tartaglia grabbing it with ease. A smile grows on your boyfriend’s face as you consume the drink in his hand. So far, the drink didn’t taste too awful. There was bitterness to it, yes, but nothing out of the ordinary. 

“An indirect kiss, by me,” Tartaglia said, nuzzling your nose against his. You laugh at this, shrugging. What a romantic this guy was, for how much he enjoyed a good fight. You continue to drink the smoothie until the glass is emptied. Tartaglia plucked up the other glass, downing it in one fluid gulp.

“And now an indirect kiss, from you,” Tartaglia said. He now held both glasses in hand, with you along his arms. You wonder what was to come next. You decide to continue observing things closely, given what your boyfriend mentioned earlier. You note a slight difference between the drinks. One had a more bitter taste while the other, orange smoothie, tasted sweet. You try to attribute some meaning to that before you see the surroundings around you blur some. You strain your eyes, unsure of what was going on.

“Huh…” you said, unable to see much of anything. You could make out Tartaglia’s cackle, followed by his quick movements. The next several minutes go by quickly. You see blurs of the area around you, barely able to make out the kitchen from the training ground. Sounds of glasses being placed and rinsed in the sink are heard.

“...More about our compatibility than anything! So, when I asked Sandrone…” is all you could make out from the current conversation. The rest felt like a jumbled mess of words. Did Tartaglia know of this? You curse yourself not being more proactive. Though, curiously enough, the other did mention taking a sip of this drink for themselves earlier. Was it to get you comfortable enough to drink it all? 

More blurs are followed, with what appeared to be Tartaglia’s room. You feel along the beddings that were suddenly underneath you, shivering as you felt a coldness to your back. The ice shard in your hair appears to be sending cold directly into your body. On the plus side, you were regaining your vision. You saw a naked Tartaglia lay before you, a smirk along his face. 

“So it seems that your ‘Sir’ has counteracted my plans for today’s training.Those smoothies contained the most common knock-out drugs. We may be Fatui, but with your beauty, I fear the worst. What if some obnoxious Mondstadter makes moves on my woman? Well, we can’t have that. So I planned this to try and surprise you. While you would’ve been unconscious, I was going to prepare lunch for you. Guess this means we’re just snuggling,” Tartaglia explained, peppering your face with kisses. You felt off still, but understood the words to the best of their ability. Though–another thing confused you–why did he try speaking with you during your moments of unconsciousness? 

“Mmm, and how does this help?” you asked, not following Tartaglia’s intentions. The Harbinger laughs before leaning closer to you. His smile turned wicked, almost haunted, as his eyes appeared darker. What was going on?

“Well, I had a few scenarios in my head. If those drugs knocked you out, maybe I would have sex with you–get your virginity out of the way. For whatever reason, folks really like targeting virgins. So, if you are no longer one, that’ll put you in the clear! You see? I couldn’t let some stranger take away my girlfriend’s first time,” Tartaglia explained. Wait–you feel a blush grow along your face–you forgot you mentioned that to him! You try to deny it now but the man simply continues to laugh and throw obscenities toward you. You at least wanted agency of when and how you got to experience your first time. To be knocked out, unaware–how were you supposed to feel any pleasure like that? You try to explain this to Tartaglia, but the man stops your words with a kiss.

Those lips along your kiss you with passion. Tartaglia’s hands squeeze you close. You feel that dress you had on earlier had been removed at some point, as well as Tartaglia’s cock pressing against your groin. You continue to blush at this, unsure of what to say. Was Tartaglia’s first day of training seriously just a backhanded way of taking your virginity?  

“But wouldn’t having sex with me while being knocked out be…weird? You wouldn’t be able to hear my moans or anything like that. And I wouldn’t be able to remember my time with you,” you explained, hoping to deter Tartaglia off of this odd path. Your training was meant to be more of getting your body prepared for fighting or long distance running you may need to do. What would your virginity do to compromise the mission? Or was it that your virginity compromised Tartaglia himself? 

“I know, but it’s for the best! Besides, I tend to get very rough when I get into things. Don’t want to have you screaming or anything like that. Or–wait, did you want me to take things slower with you? My apologies. It’s just…been so long. Since I even dated. I just forget how this stuff works,” Tartaglia said, a look of embarrassment coming on his face. A red blush floods his cheeks. You watch this, a smile growing on his lips too. Maybe keeping your kinks a secret was a bad thing. If you shared what you enjoyed with him, well, he would be persuaded against having sex with your unconscious body. 

“What if I like it that way–rough that is. I may be a virgin–but I have my kinks about me,” you said, happy that Sir taught you about what ‘play’ was all about. You wonder if that stuff could be sexual–or was it mostly just casual?  Before you could think further,  Tartaglia pins you against his bedding. Your eyes search around the room,  seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Your eyes focus back on Tartaglia to see the blush still on his face, lips tightly closed.  You recall what Sir said, about the Harbingers not being as forthcoming with what they were into. Perhaps this was an opportunity to change that with your boyfriend.

“Hmm? Did I say something that interests you? You could start now even, I’m not afraid of a few more bruises and cuts,” you said, laughing, “Unless you're…too nervous?” That blush on Tartaglia’s face stays as his lips collide with yours. You kiss him back, feeling his hands grip along your shoulders. You make no effort to escape. If Tartaglia managed to make you feel like Sir did last night, this would be of no issue. However, what if the Harbinger was less experienced? You were thinking of a lot as you kissed your boyfriend, noting how those hands weren’t even hurting all that much. As you feel Tartaglia free your lips, the blush is still there–but a look of determination has come across the Harbinger’s face.

“N-No! I have done this many times, actually, how many girlfriends have I had before you?” Tartaglia said, though those claims appear to be false by how his tone kept changing. You laugh at his response, shaking your head. 

“Sure. And, let me guess, all of them just so happened to be unconscious? All woefully unable to comment on your skills because, well, you have none,” you said. It wouldn’t hurt to put some fuel into Tartaglia’s fire. Maybe that’s all your boyfriend needed–a spark.

You feel those hands around your shoulders squeeze down tighter. You let out a soft groan, a pleased smile spreading across your face. You could feel Tartaglia use his legs to shift yours to widen. You tilt your head, curious, wondering what exactly Tartaglia would do to show off his skills.

The next moment you let out a gasp–feeling a pressure up against your sex. You look down to see a hard cock stroking itself along your slit. You shiver at the feeling, biting at your lip. That felt good, but where was the pain? You let out a groan as that answer comes sooner than expected. Tartaglia’s teeth now attack along your other shoulder, biting down. You let out screams, feeling your skin much more sensitive than usual. You could feel new trails of blood run along your skin, body quivering. You feel Tartaglia’s teeth leave there and find another space along your breast. You could feel the sharpness of his teeth along your skin, groaning out as your legs pressed along Tartaglia’s length. You hear Tartaglia let out a surprised gasp, followed by a slight thrust against your groin. You groan at this, hands clinging onto Tartaglia’s back. 

You begin to feel your boyfriend fill you up with his cock, along with a cool yet restrictive object wrapping along your neck. You couldn’t look at what it was, but it felt amazing. A rope-shaped object gave off coolness along your neck. You arch your back as you feel Tartaglia begin thrust in and out of you, his teeth starting to press along your breast again. You let out another breathy moan, holding onto your boyfriend’s back.

“Mm, so nervous…you must be terrible,” you said, hoping to get him even more riled up. Your statement is met with more biting, which makes you groan out louder. You could even feel a bit of blood leak from one of your breasts, Tartaglia moving to bite the other one in a similar fashion. You let out another moan, filling the room with the sound of your groans and moans. You feel your boyfriend thrust into you with no mercy, your legs wobbling further open to let him have more room inside. Your groans kept getting louder, hands moving up to pull at that hair of his. You weren’t sure if this was supposed to hurt–you didn’t care–you kept moaning out. You could feel Tartaglia’s cock continuously slap into you, matched with his greedy bites along your breast. And–that feeling around your neck–it only got cooler. It felt like a rope that was gradually tightening along your neck. This caused your moans to sound less loud, but it didn’t change how aroused you were at the situation.  

“So, fucking, uh, so…” you pant out, trying to shit talk but he was fucking all that energy out of you. The pain you felt below, it felt like it was drawing blood. Those teeth, as they bit along your neck, were drawing up blood too. You couldn’t stop moaning out, unable to process all the various methods of pain Tartaglia was giving you. You could feel a wetness building along your sex, making your boyfriend’s cock slip in and out with ease. You feel the rope along your neck force tighten up, staring up at the ceiling as you continue moaning out. 

“Whose terrible now, you fucking whore, cheater, bitch,” Tartaglia spoke to you, removing his mouth from your breast.  You see his face flushed in red still, sweat dripping down his face as his cock continued to fuck you relentlessly. Your neck was feeling freezing at this point, barely able to make an audible sound other than a moan. You could feel darkness tease at the corner of your eyes, a twitch felt along the tip of Tartaglia’s cock. That twitching continues, seeming to increase as Tartaglia glared down at you from above. Saliva swells in your mouth, coughing to clear it to try and reply.

“Mmm, more,” you say, barely able to speak higher than a whisper. Those  ropes along your throat loosen a bit only to tighten even more than before. You weren’t even allowed to moan anymore. You feel your legs shiver, mind breaking from all the pain and pleasure. 

“Your title should’ve been the group’s whore, after all! Look at you, enjoying my cock while being choked to death by me. Who's a good slut, you are~” Tartaglia teases, raising a hand before slapping it along your ass.  You hadn’t the time to decipher if this was just part of the play or if Tartaglia knew Sir was the one to injure you. You didn’t care much either. You could feel that wetness below begin to swell into more of a puddle, before feeling Tartaglia twitch more and more. 

“Mm, fuck, fuck yes…most pass out by now,” Tartaglia said, moving closer to whisper the latter part into your ear. You nod, feeling your sex tense up as it squeezes along Tartaglia’s shaft. You hear him moan out aloud before curving his cock further inside of you. A rush of liquid squirts inside of you, swirling with your own juices. You feel a build up of your own rush outward, a loud moan somehow escaping the clutches of that rope along your neck. You feel water splash along your neck, Tartaglia crashing down on top of you. 

“Ahh…well. That’s the deed done, with you awake. You're awfully persistent with that mouth of yours,” Tartaglia said, nuzzling your face, “But that just makes me want you even more. I love a challenge.” You nod at him feeling your sex ache  as he pulls out of you. 

“Noted. Well–are we going to do any actual training today?” you asked, ruffling your boyfriend’s hair. He laughs, shaking his head.

“Of course not! This is our last day of freedom before Pantalone and Dottore dictate your training regime. Whatever I end up teaching you is gonna get overridden by whatever they prefer. Besides, you seem to already have a nice understanding of the basics,” Tartaglia said, leaving kiss after kiss along your face. 

“So you do really see me as a girlfriend, then,” you ask, wanting affirmation from the source itself. You see a smile curl into a smirk along Tartaglia’s face.

“Hmm, it appears I fucked my girlfriend so hard she’s forgotten we’re together,” Tartaglia said, kissing a soft kiss along your lips, “Guess that means I did a satisfactory job.” That Tartaglia did. And you knew, the moment Sir saw the state you were in–you were in for a lot more pain.

Chapter Text

You couldn’t move much after what Tartaglia had done to your body. How exactly were you supposed to move after events like that? You lay along Tartaglia’s beddings, raising a hand above your head. You can feel Tartaglia take your hand, his fingers gently massaging your own. You were just lying there, tired, unsure of what to do next.

“So. I heard a rumor that my room will be ready soon,” you said. You can hear Tartaglia erupt in laughter, peppering your face with kisses. You show him a confused look, not sure what was funny about that. You were to get your own room. You would become more…official. You look over your lover's face, trying to find whatever it could be he was laughing at. 

“What?” you asked, feeling those lips continue to drag along your face and on your nose. 

“Well Well Well. Looks like you’ll need to decorate your room some before you leave. Or will you wait until after?” Tartaglia said, a smug smile on his face. He props himself on top of you, blue eyes staring down. You shrug, unsure of what you will do. It wasn’t like you knew how to order or do anything around here. You were in severe need of some actual direction. 

“How and when would I do that?” you asked. Tartaglia smiles, shifting so his body weight is weighing down on you. There was that scent of glaze lilies again. You could just make out the scent. You inhale, enjoying the smell, before focusing back on the topic.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to, uh..” you said, struggling to finish your sentence. You can feel yourself blushing at what you were implying. 

“I’m certain someone here would be willing to pitch in. Say, I don’t think that the Doctor's got much going on. Why not ask him?” Tartaglia said. Huh–of all things, you thought your boyfriend would want to help you with decorating. That came off as strange.

“Huh, I take it you don’t care much for my room then?” you said, rolling your eyes at Tartaglia. You could hear the Harbinger break out into another laughing fit.

“Is your memory still fuzzy from earlier? I am your boyfriend, but. I don’t want to control the whole design in your room. Besides, Dottore is in charge of room supplies. Your little ‘Sir’ used to be, but then things changed. I think it’s nearly lunchtime, we could try finding him in the kitchen,” Tartaglia explained, leaving a line of soft, supple kisses along your face. You giggle, nodding as you feel the blush still on your face. This whole dating experience would have been good to experience in another time. Maybe when you never got sick, had your parents still, and were still in your home country. You manage to hide your feelings of regret with a small smile, Tartaglia patting at your legs.

“Let’s go,” Tartaglia said, pulling your body up. You follow without question, trying to find where your garments had been thrown in the midst of love making. Try that you do, you don’t seem to locate your clothes anywhere. You sigh, turning to Tartaglia for some assistance. He simply shrugs at your response, pulling out a couple of his shirts for you to look at.

“You should relax some, while you still can. I promise, it’s going to get grating when you get deployed. The amount of deception, lies, and fake personas you need to create. It does end up building on the nerves. So, enjoy your time here, pick out one of my outfits,” Tartaglia said, gesturing the shirts toward you.

One shirt was a maroon, button up shirt. It would likely fit over your ass, but nothing else appeared part of that? Your eyes move to the other choice, a tight white muscle shirt. You could likely fit into it, but would show much more than the maroon shirt. On top of the whiter shirt being much tighter, the maroon shirt just made more sense to you. Besides, you figure you would get in actual trouble if this came off as seducing Dottore. Or maybe…that was part of it all? You bit your lip, unable to choose between the two shirts.

“Boyfriend’s choice? You know, to get out of my ‘comfort zone’ or whatever,” you said, watching Tartaglia’s face light up with joy. You see him do a small congratulatory dance for himself before extending the white shirt toward you. Great–he was more in the mood for showing off his girlfriend. You slip the shirt on. You feel the shirt's tightness especially along your breasts, the shirt stopping just above your groin. You flourish your new shirt, turning and giving your boyfriend the full view. You hear him whistle, followed by arms wrapping around you.

“Won’t I need underwear or at least something to hide uh..” you said, gesturing toward your sex. Tartaglia thinks before nodding, sliding you over with him toward one of the few drawers in his room. Lines and lines of boxers show in the drawer. Your boyfriend plucks a pair up. He slides those boxers on you with ease, hiding your sex and all the liquid he squirted inside of you. You relax some, feeling ready to visit Dottore. You watch as Tartaglia gets dressed with ease, putting on an outfit that matches the maroon button up well. You lean against him as he starts channeling his symbol along one of his walls.

A narwhal symbol shows briefly before a neon hallway reveals itself. You cling onto your boyfriend as he dashes through the hallway, taking no longer than a minute to find his way to the kitchen. The smell of an Earthy soup fills your nose. You could make out the mushrooms, stew meats, and all of the seasonings. Your eyes search the room for the cook, unable to find them. As you and Tartaglia make your way further through the kitchen, a maniacal laughter can be heard from the corner of the room.

“Such an interesting specimen you are. You flaunt your relationship with the boy, while showing indifference to the one that brought you here. Hm, but why? You are quite smart, well skilled, and know when to keep their mouth shut. Perhaps things will be less active around here when you are deployed,” Dottore said, his smile visible from his bird-like mask. Those words were honest. But–you swore–you would never tell Tartaglia about the deal Sir and you made. You have to be careful here. You nod toward The Doctor, about to compliment his soup, but he holds a finger to your face. You remain still, allowing the scent of the soup to entice you more. 

“Hold on now, please taste this soup. I’ve been working on it throughout yesterday and today,” Dottore said, dipping a spoon into the metal pot. A small amount of soup rests along the utensil. You give it a quick blow to cool it down some before sipping. You note the texture, taste, and overall broth feel. It was one of the thicker broths you got the chance to taste. It wouldn’t be long until you have drunk the entire spoonful. As you try to turn to ask for more, a sudden chill runs down your spine.

“Now, based on your reaction. I believe some more GHB* is needed. Its salty taste should be covered by that strong mushroom taste, hmm?” Dottore said, his face appearing blurrier as time went on. You curse yourself for falling for the same trickery twice. You gulp harshly, trying to vocalize words but unable to move your throat an inch. Your entire muscles felt tight, prickly, and achy. All from one taste of soup seemed impossible. But–with Fatui's resources–anything seemed possible. You continue to try and speak, straining your throat muscles to try to utter at least a word. 

“Hmm, girlie hasn’t learned from her first lesson yet. Never eat food prepared outside of your line of sight…” Tartaglia said. You could hear notes of his voice echo off the walls, your sight becoming more blurry and hazy. This felt unfair, after all you were supposed to be the cook. And trying out other food’s, in some ways, may be part of that duty? You try to speak still but can’t come up with words. And with how fuzzy everything got…it wasn’t long until you could not make sense of anything at all.

{Sometime later...}

The sound of voices clouds up your ears. You cough, feeling violently awake as you note chains along your wrists and ankles. Your eyes run across your body, seeing Tartaglia’s clothes still on you.  Tight ringlets of chains shackle you. Their base appears stuck to the floor, chains clanking loudly each time you move. Your eyes search for a person. You look at shadows, doors, even behind you–nothing. The sound of voices had certainly been here before. Where did they go?

“The test subject is awake. Begin the bonding process with the delusion,” Dottore said. Your eyes perk up, seeing nothing but empty walls surrounding you. You try to calm yourself, but feel that same sense of blood-lust as before. You shake against your chains, pounding them against the ground. You hoped it was enough force to break them, but to no avail. You can feel your throat begin to burn. You try to look down but feel unable to. That same, prickly feeling from before fills your throat. You hadn’t eaten anything since waking back up–why that itch now?

You make a slow stand to your feet, afraid of what else will happen next. What exactly did ‘bonding with your delusion’ entail? As you try to stand up straight, you feel the chains around your ankles and wrist stop you short of that goal. You remain partially craned over, unable to fully stand up straight. You see lights begin to turn on along the walls beside you. And, directly in front of you, lay the pearls. Each one shines bright in your eyes. If not for the chains, you would have grabbed the pearls and smashed your way out of here. But, no, for whatever reason Dottore wanted you to bond with some jewelry. 

You find it difficult to speak again. Your muscles were still paralyzed by whatever GHB was. Was it another knockout drug that Tartaglia alluded to earlier? You bite down on your lip, trying to shock some muscles out of this dormant state. You could feel your teeth draw blood, but still no muscles were moving. 

“Introducing new variables,” Dottore said, that voice sounding more grating the longer you hear it. The nerve of that Doctor, poisoning you and then pushing you through whatever this was. You begin to feel some control return to your mouth, followed by your shoulders and arms. You take slow, gentle steps toward your pearls. You could potentially break out of the chains with its power. But what else did Dottore have in mind for his ‘test subject’?

You do your best to lunge your mouth forward, taking the pearls in your mouth. You feel that power flows through you. Those once aching muscles return tenfold. You could feel yourself breathing again. You dare not speak, only show. Lest you drop your pearls and lose any hope of escaping whatever encampment this was. You shut your eyes to focus. You knew your delusion had something to do with blood, ice, and the manipulation of those liquids. You wince, biting down on your lip even more. Droplets of blood fall on the ground below. You try to focus on that blood, trying to synthesize elemental energy with your fresh drawn blood. You open your eyes to blood struggling to get into a form. You frown, but nod as you tilt your head over the first set of chains attached to the left hand side of your body. You wince as you continue to bite along your lips, feeling more droplets of blood hit the chains below. You hear some sizzling, followed by a burning scent. You get a whiff of it, looking down and seeing no sign of fire. You shake your head, moving over to do the same thing to the right-sided chains.

As several minutes pass by, the chains become easier to remove from underneath you. You pull the chains up from the ground with ease, using your newfound leverage to take a closer look at the room around you. The room itself appeared similar to the room your surgery was in before. You nod to it, noting how the lights shine on you. How the chains that once held you simply dangled along your wrists and ankles. You choose against knocking the chains against the ground anymore, knowing it will prove inefficient. You decide to move around the room, using your hand to try channeling Sir’s quarters. You try and fail. You continue trying, confused on how you were to escape. 

“Bad girls don’t just get to go home. You see, Pantalone lacks what a proper Owner should give: discipline. He spoils you and spoils you. And what do you do in return? Spite him. Hurt him. Date that Tartaglia boy. But the discipline will be here today, loud and clear,” Dottore spoke, his voice unable to be traced. In your attempts to find a way out or at least where The Doctor’s voice comes from, you feel that same prickly feeling crawl up your throat. In  response, you remove the pearls from your mouth and slide them along your neck. You could feel the power move through you now, past your shoulders and into the soles of your feet. You use this newfound power to kick and slap the chains off of you. They fall with ease, leaving a thin layer of dust across the room. Your power felt as if it were brimming from your fingertips.

“I am afraid to admit this has become…comical to watch. Perhaps entertaining me. I prefer this than the mind games you play with dear Pantalone. Besides–don’t you want your own room, girl?” Dottore said, causing your eyes to widen. Of course–he was the room supply person. But you had no words. That damned soup Dottore gave you made you at a loss for words. And something about the way the man spoke, how he acted–Dottore planned for this, didn’t he?

“Let’s see how you handle some of our basic combat units. Division one, mobilize,” Dottore said, the lights in the room turning off. Talk about combat training–they were just rushing you at this point! You huff, stretching your arms and legs as you see some figures enter from the left side of the room. Somehow, almost magically, the room triples in size. It was likely to give you room to do whatever elemental energy practice you had in your repertoire. 

“Heh, to think I once dressed you. Told you it was a one night thrill…now look at you,” you hear a woman speak. Your eyes focus, seeing the Mage from a distance. You see a burst of purple glow below her face. Electro was their vision–with your ice it could be easy to take them down. But you didn’t want to kill anyone–no way! You focus, dragging a finger along your bloodied lip. This draws up a plume of smoke matched with an icy needle-like weapon.

You lunge at the group before you, dodging their skill shots as they are thrown. You dive underneath the group, swiping along your needle with ease. After sliding past them, you sit up, noticing the damage. Due to the lack of light, you couldn’t see much. But, as the lights gradually come on, your eyes widen.

“Quite lethal, you are. Division two, prepare for mobilization! Division One is extinct,” Dottore said, the room darkening once more as the sound of bodies being shoved downward can be heard. You rush toward the pile of bodies. You had no clue how powerful you were. At most, you wanted to leave a scar. But, as you get closer to the group you had recently slain, the Cician Mage appears to still be alive. Her face is sliced along the side, blood rushing out of her head. 

“You are really…strong. Please use that,” the mage said, their words becoming echoey as a trap door opens underneath her. The sound of metal and screams can be heard. A splash of blood hits your face as the trapdoor from before closes up.

You hear the next group enter. Based on the sound of their steps, they sounded much heavier than the others. You drag two fingers on each hand along your lips, forming new needle-like weapons. You extend your fingers to either side of you, taking quick steps toward your next victims. You had to be more careful this time. Or would it help at all? It seemed that Dottore was just mashing them up like lunch meat in that trap door.

You dodge the skilled attacks aimed at you, narrowly missing a freeze gun one of the bulkier men began to use on you. You take your lack of weight as an advantage, using their lack of flexibility against them. Your needle weapons attacked at their legs now, hearing blood curdling screams screech out. You continue. The screams continue. And all you wanted was more.

“Division Two, extinct. Division three, mobilize,” Dottore said, “I am intrigued by this side of you, miss. From no combat training to killing some of our weaker members without an ounce of regret. Although I despise how you play with Pantalone’s mind, I have my affections about your swiftness across the battlefield.” You ignore the words after that, just flowery crap that was meant to distract you. Your eyes observe the room, wild with wonder and excitement. How many people did you just kill? Why did that fascinate Dottore so much? And how the fuck was this considered ‘bonding’ of all things? So many questions you were unsure you wanted the answer for. More blood sheds along your face, covering it in the maroon liquid. You keep your ears perked, dodging a flurry of bullets as they are shot. 

“Huh, newbie Harbinger! You best–” one of the gunmen tried to showboat, but that was their mistake. From the direction of the gunshot–combined with the sound of their voice. It did not take you long to find their location, stabbing each of the four gunmen through the stomach.

“Oh keep it to yourself,” you mutter into the ear of the insolent. You could feel your needle slide in and out of the man’s body with ease, blood flooding your current outfit. Covered with blood, in your boyfriend’s clothes–-with pearls on? You could feel the smile grow on your face. Your head wanted more blood, more death, more things on your hands. But here you knew it was going to get out of hand.

“Division three, extinct. Test subject has completed preliminary testing. Close your eyes,” Dottore said, the lights of the room clicking on. You shut your eyes in fear of seeing the carnage you caused. You take a deep inhale too, in hopes to calm your nerves. You never had so much blood on you like this. Blood that wasn’t yours, blood that was shed so carelessly–needlessly. Something else must have been in that soup too. What other drugs did Dottore decide to pump you full of? You could feel your anger grow as hands embrace you in a hug, a tongue licking off the blood from your face. Your eyes shoot open at the sensation, seeing a smiling Dottore with blood sliding down his face.

“You performed perfectly. Now, I assume you want some sort of reward,” Dottore said, his words purring into your ear. You grumble, tempted to use your powers to keep the man away. But your hopes of using your vision or delusion are dashed, the man pocketing it in the same velvet black pouch as before. You try to shake your head ‘no’, but Dottore seems ever pushy. You feel his gloved hands make quick work of those trousers you had on, pulling them off with ease. Next comes that tight white shirt. You feel Dottore rub in the blood stains before tossing those off of your body as well. 

You still fail to find words. Anytime you want to speak or make a sound, your throat feels unmovable. Your body felt as if it were reverting back to when you first tasted the soup. You shake your head as Dottore has his way with your body. He starts with your hair, sniffing it close before moving down toward your chin. His face nuzzles yours, getting blood all over himself. Dottore appeared to be in bliss during the moments where he could lick, rub against, and nuzzle along the blood splattered along your body. It was a strange sight. 

You attempt to open your mouth again. You are able to open but no words follow. You huff at this, Dottore cackling at this reaction. You watch as his hand extends to remove the bird-like mask from his face, revealing his full face.  

Light blue tendrils of hair frame his face. Red eyes beam at you, with a smirk showing sharp jagged teeth. A harness seems to be attached to Dottore’s neck, the full view of it obscured by his clothing. You hear  Dottore laugh at you still, your faces covered in blood. You watch as he pockets your delusion. 

“Well? What reward does this rascal want?” Dottore asked, giving your bare ass a loud spank. The sound of it reverberates through the room, also raising a groan from yourself. Dottore seems vaguely interested, repeating the slap several times. You struggle to remain still, Dottore continuing to spank you mercilessly. You can’t help but groan at each slap, struggling to remain still. You hear Dottore gradually stop laughing, his red eyes stuck on your figure. You look over his features, hoping he will finish and lead you back to Sir’s room shortly. You remain calm, quiet, waiting for Dottore’s next move. You watch his face turn bored, poking and prodding at many different parts of your body. He was feeling you up like you were some experiment. You grumble at this. Your grumble is met with his hand securing itself tightly along your nose and mouth. You attempt to scream, but no more sounds can come out. 

“Being mouthy as per usual. Well, you have two choices. I do what I want to your unconscious body, or. You surrender this body, willingly, and you enjoy your consciousness,” Dottore asked. What a fucked up way of asking if you wanted to be touched awake or unconscious. You huff again, still unable to form words. You decide to give him more of a physical cue, raising your arm to knock against the man’s back a couple of times. You hear Dottore cackle at the sound, slinging you over one of his shoulders. You lay limb, ensuring your full body weight falls against him. 

“Excellent choice,” Dottore said, seeming to walk toward a wall. Finally–an exit! Your eyes are overtaken by neon greens and dark blues. You shut your eyes to avoid getting dizzy from the sights. The next time you open your eyes, you find yourself in a large, bubbling bath. The warmth of the water was bringing your muscles back, especially your voice. You wonder if The Doctor managed to get you again with some sort of knock out drug. 

“Hello?” you said, voice scratchy. You were happy to use your voice again. Tempted to repeat, you nearly do. But familiar, cool hands stroke at your throat. Your eyes avert behind you, seeing the familiar vision of Sir.

“Welcome back. It seems Dottore wanted to push you a little today. I’m glad to hear your combat skills are reporting in higher than our usual grunt ranks. It proves your rank accordingly,” Sir said, kissing your face. You lean into those kisses, relaxing into his arms. You say nothing more, happy just to be back in a sane member’s arms. You rest against his frame, feeling every inch of his warmth against you.

“What happened to me?” you asked. You still weren’t sure what all Dottore did. Was all that killing real? And what prevented you from speaking a single word?

“Dottore gave you sedatives in the form of soup. It was a family meal for grunts trying to sneak profits from under our noses. Next thing, they come to and are assassinated by you. From Dottore himself, he did say he fancies the more lethal you. Though I think it’s just because you did his job for him,” Sir said, squeezing your side. You wrap your arm around Sir, hearing footsteps approach the bathtub. Killing was just part of your job now, not directly, but something that could be expected of you. For now you just focus on snuggling in close with Sir, nuzzling your face along his soft skin, leaving small kisses along his neck. You can hear his pleasant humming. 

“Oh, has our little killing machine awoken? Congrats on proving your worth here, hoho,” Dottore said. Dottore appeared before you maskless and near nude. A black, white, and red fur robe covers his arms, though his cock and chest are fully exposed. You keep your eyes on Dottore's face, staring back at him. You wonder if this is Sir’s room or Dottore’s.

“Yes. Why are you here,” you ask, keeping your arms and face firmly against Sir. You listen to Dottore laugh, shaking his head. There is a scar you hadn’t noticed before, starting at his nose and ending near his right eye. 

“Well, can’t a man show off some of his fashion? This I personally pruned from a creature. They were quite feisty, but with a little drugs, anyone goes down easy. Like it?” Dottore said, turning as his robe flutters. You nod, smiling.

“It suits you well, Doctor,” you replied, drawing small circles along Sir’s chest underneath the water. You see Dottore smile in glee, clapping his hands. He stretches a bit before disrobing, tossing the robe along the floor before joining us in the tub. You shuffle closer into Sir, biting your lip as you feel his groin rub against your ass. You hear Sir laugh at this, placing either hand along your sides. He moves you to face Dottore, ass directly against Sir’s cock now.

“Now about your room. Technically, all orders and requests go through me. Buut. We will all soon be deployed with our own assignments. Our goal of obtaining the power of the Gods is near completion. So we haven't had time to do what we have done the past few weeks. Besides, you seem awfully comfortable against Pantalone’s cock there,” Dottore said, grinning. You try to protest against it, but feel Sir’s hard cock enter you unexpectedly. You gasp aloud, struggling to remain seated properly. Dottore moves across the water, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“Mmm, fun times,” Sir whispers along your ear, biting down, “Can’t just let Tartaglia cream pie you and get away with it.” What was a cream pie? It confuses you, and in fear of seeming like an idiot, you decide not to ask. You feel Dottore hands on you too, stroking your breast. You feel your lips tremble at the feeling. You just had your first time. And now, you were going to take two guys? Red hot blush covers your face, your eyes looking down at the bubble bath you were in.

Those four hands grab at your body, like it was a piece of meat. The way they treated you so rough, callous–it turned you on more. You can feel Sir continue to thrust into your ass, your mouth wide open with screams. The pain felt amazing. You couldn’t place this anywhere near how Tartaglia made you feel. Dottore enters soon after, thrusting into your pussy.

You continue to let out loud moans, barely able to keep yourself upright with the two men thrusting so deep into you. You can feel the water slosh around you all, their cocks entering and exiting you with such speed.

“Arch that back, girl,” Dottore instructs, slapping your ass. You yelp, doing your best to arch your back with all the cocks pounding into you. You struggle still to remain steady, hands planting down into the water. You feel your hands slip, Sir’s arms grabbing your own. Dottore grabs your legs, placing them along his shoulders. The pounding doesn’t end there. You feel so full below your waist, drool dripping along your lips. The pain, the pleasure–it all mixed into this unbreakable haze.

“I, I,” you blurt out, unable to formulate full sentences. You can hear the water slosh around you, those cocks inside of you twisting your insides something nice. After not being able to vocalize for so long, you were beginning to wonder if that sedative was taking effect again. You struggle to focus on the cocks throwing your entire lower half into a fiery pain.

“Mrmm, that’s it. Open that ass wide for Master,” Sir whispers into your ear, speeding up. Dottore does the same, grumbling. 

“You’re supposed to be punishing her, and here we are, fucking her brains out. Too nice of a Owner, you are,” Dottore muses, slapping random parts of your exposed skin. You inhale, letting out loud, fast moans. Those slaps were just making it all the better. Red splotches appear where Dottore continues to slap and beat on you. You feel each of their cocks twitch, their arms holding onto your body tight. More thrusts, pain, pleasure–you could feel your eyes lose focus. You let out a loud, needy moan. You feel both of their cocks release into you, liquid squirting all in your pussy and ass. With several slaps encouraging you to stand up, you follow and do as told. Sir tugs you to turn and face him. You follow these orders to a tee, turning your body toward him. Sir’s lips fit perfectly along your slit, licking up the creamy liquid Dottore shot into you. You shiver at the sensation, licking your fully healed lips. Sir was spoiling you, and you wanted to enjoy every moment.

“Huh, really, leaving me to eat her ass?” Dottore said, the water sloshing below you. You feel a tongue enter your ass, causing you to shiver more. The way the softness of the tongue contrasted against the tightness of your ass. You could just feel the liquid from earlier ooze out, some being delivered nicely on Dottore’s tongue, the rest plopping into the waters below.

You can feel yourself grow wetter by the minute, a sloshy sound coming from Sir’s mouth. Dottore stops abruptly, slapping your ass.

“Enjoying this too much, I need to bring the discipline as always,” Dottore said, returning to the assault he made on your ass earlier. Slap after slap, a red irritation grew on your butt. You couldn’t help but continue moaning out, leaning forward along Sir’s face. You look down, seeing Sir’s eyes closed as his tongue focuses on licking every inch of you. You feel yourself begin to twitch, teeth biting your lip. The slaps from behind, Sir’s delicate tongue licking up your pussy–all of it was starting to build up. You continue to lean further forward, giving Dottore more room to slap along your ass. You place your hands along Sir’s hair, gripping it to gain balance. You hear Sir laugh at this, biting down along your clit.

You let out a loud moan, legs shivering even more at the sensation. You hesitate at first before feeling a rush of liquid hit Sir’s lips. You hear Sir lick that up, greedily, before pulling back. He moves and kisses along your inner thigh, his fingers moving to twirl along your pussy. This makes you flinch back almost, into Dottore’s next slap.

“Quit spoiling the slut,” Dottore said, “She’s just gonna keep cumming like the whore she is.” You laugh at these words. Sir joins in laughing, his arms wrapping along your legs. Those arms shield Dottore from slapping your ass. You focus on slowing your labored breathing, though that’s hard with how Sir chose to finger fuck you this time around.

“Hmm, is that your way of telling me I’ve overstayed my welcome? Very well then. Hopefully the girl behaves from now on,” Dottore said, standing up with a yawn. You hear his footsteps leave the shower. You hear the robe flutter as it is plucked from the ground.

“I trust you will ensure she’s training ready for the rest of her time here, yes?” Dottore adds.

“Naturally. I will see you in the training room tomorrow,” Sir said, waving toward Dottore. Soon, those echoey steps faded from your ears entirely. You hold onto Sir, feeling his fingers gradually stop. Sir removes his fingers, taking them out as he thoughtfully sucks on each one.

“Mmm–today will be our last day for any fun play. We’ve determined your back story and a list of goals you are to achieve during your stay at Mondstadt. Listen well,” Sir said, licking his lips, “Your cover name will be Mai. This will lead those outlanders to see if anyone from Liyue is missing you. This will throw off their initial assumption of who you are. With the Fatui symbol we’ll carve in a week or so, that should draw our key target, Diluc, to your sights. With your combat prowess, I have a feeling you can stand on even ground as him. But do not make fighting him the first move. Get to know him. Learn about him. Learn their next moves and report to us. Make sense so far?” 

You nod. You sit down as Sir continues to detail you. Sir was gentle as always, wiping down all sweat amid other liquids. You continue to listen to the mission details, making notes in your head. This was going to be a hard, difficult time for you. No one would be there to help or ease the tension. It would be up to you to put on a face, a friendly, loving girl. You think you could handle that.

Sir continues to wipe you down, finishing his debrief. You enjoy the silence. While your body did feel sore from the pounding you got earlier, you felt a sense of relief too. As Sir finishes wiping and cleaning off your body, he stands, starting to clean off himself too. He hums, filling in the silence. You remain seated, watching as Sir’s chiseled body stands before you.

He was muscular, but not overly so. Those legs of his were freshly shaven, along with other areas of his body. You watch Sir continue to clean himself off, finishing up in under five minutes. He scoops you up in his arms, escorting you both out of the bathtub. Sir slips along a towel around your body, and then his own. You enter the bedroom to see it much the same, per usual.

“Will you miss me? When I’m deployed, away from you?” you asked, curious. You look up at Sir’s face, unable to read his expression. He remains quiet, placing you along the bed on top of your towel. He uses his own to dry you off.

“Miss you? Hmm, I believe I will. Any owner misses their pet, right?” Sir said, leaving a soft kiss along your cheek. You giggle, leaning into it. Once you are dry, Sir pulls out a black nightgown. You slip it on with the help of Sir. The silky texture helps you feel soft, warm–ready for bed. Sir remains nude, using the towels to dry himself off now. After drying, he wraps his arms around you, leaving a trail of kisses along your forehead. Giggling at the feeling, you feel Sir tug abruptly along your hair. Looking toward him, you see a serious look on his face.

“Do you want to know what would make me happy? Happier than if you broke things off with that damned Tartaglia?” Sir said, his eyes serious. You listen close, leaning forward to rest against his chest. 

“Yes, I’d love to know,” you respond. You nuzzle your chin against Sir’s chest. He looks at you, with a serious expression. You continue to stare back at him, hoping. Praying that it wouldn’t be anything too terribly dangerous.

“Kill that Diluc Ragnvindr for me. Each time we make moves, he’s always one step ahead. Having him out of the picture would ensure the last few missions will go smoothly,” Sir said. You listen, trying to process what was being asked of you.

Sir wanted you to kill a guy you never met? You had no visual ID of the guy either. You were just getting your feet wet with the prospect of killing too. How were you supposed to manage killing a guy with a vision and getting away with it in a foreign land? You push those doubts to the side, hoping to appease your lover. You bring your face closer to Sir’s, leaving soft kisses along his cheeks.

“I will do my best to take him down, Master,” you said, continuing your kiss assault. A pleased smile spreads across Sir’s face. While killing him was not in your mission's orders, you would take it as a personal side mission to make sure this Diluc character would be out of the picture. Besides, if you could kill him, what wonderful reward would await you when you returned home?

Chapter Text

The days went by quickly. You hardly saw Tartaglia after that day. Dottore and Sir took turns planning out your training regime. You had no time outside of cooking, training, and getting taken care of by Sir. It had come to your final night here, before your deployment.

Sir dressed you in traditional garments from Liyue. A tight, red dress fits your body well. You also received a nice pedicure from the boys as well. That was the last thing they wanted to do, to finish off the look. Sir and Dottore paint their toes black and blue, giving you the red to match your current outfit. 

“So, do you feel nervous at all? Any clarification on goals?” Dottore asked. His usual, casual demeanor faded. He finishes putting up the nail polish, placing them away in a suitcase of his. You shake your head ‘no’, nervous. You knew your role now but you still were unsure of things. Like how the foreigners would take you, if they would even accept you beyond the walls of Mondstadt. That was the main challenge you would need to pass. The next, after that, would be gaining enough trust so you could share data across the Fatui network. Dottore and Sir already warned you that some Fatui informants are already inside in case trouble comes afoot. But you wanted to rely on others  as little as possible. This was your first true mission, one to show you off as the rightful member of the Fatui you were. Wait–were you becoming proud of that?

“Good. Now the final piece before we set you outside of Mondstadt tomorrow morning. The carving will hurt, but something tells me you’ll enjoy it,” Dottore said, cackling as he finds a scalpel. You remain lying down on the operation table, awaiting the final piece  of your outfit. You knew that part was going to hurt–but you were excited for it. Just how much pain could a small symbol do?

You feel Sir hold down your arm. You try to tell him it’s not needed, but he does so anyway. You remain firm against the operation table, noting that Dottore is seemingly stuck between two different scalpels. You figure while The Doctor is dealing with that crisis, to strike up a conversation with Sir.

“Will you miss me, really?” you asked, eyes looking over Sir’s expression. Sir’s face appears blank as he looks down at you, not giving you an inch to work with. You pout, pretending to kick your feet up toward him. Sir shakes his head at this, leaning down to give you a soft peck along the forehead.

“Yes, even though you are quite the rebellious pet. Not to worry though, we will check in often,” Sir said, using his other hand to cup your cheek. You nod, seeing Dottore come back over with two items in hand. One appeared to be a stencil while the other was a long, curved scalpel. You tense at the sight, in excitement, pain–pleasure. It all meant the same to you anyhow.

“Let’s not let the girl wait any longer,” Dottore said, placing the stencil along your arm. You let out a few screams, not aware of how painful this was going to be. It was a few stabs of the skin yes–but why did it feel like your entire body was burning up in heat?

“W-What is this pain,” you cried out, struggling to keep yourself still. It was hurting worse than when Dottore put those transmitters along your inner thigh. You continue crying out, the two men above you silent. The sound of cutting and removing flesh is audible, between your screams and the cleaning off of the work tool. It takes Dottore what feels like a century to finish carving, Sir looking over the mark before nodding toward it. 

“Well, not bad at a-all,” you try to showboat, but feel yourself fall weak at the completion of the mark. You manage to move your head some to get a better view. Four petal-like objects protrude from a circular one. It was an odd symbol, one you had no clue of its symbolism. You figure there’d be a better time to ask that. As your hands try to touch the newly formed wound, Dottore catches your hand with his gloved one.

“Oh, childish! Must you touch an artist's work so soon? And what of you in Mondstadt when they realize you were awake when this all happened? That breaks your cover, girl,” Dottore grumbled. He slowly releases your grip, your hand falling back to its original position. You pout some more. Dottore rolls his eyes at this, Sir leaning down to cover you in more kisses. Your pouts turn into giggles, hands wanting to hold the man so badly. You feel his kisses linger more around your lips, before giving you a very passionate, deep kiss. You return the kiss, feeling his tongue massage yours some before retreating. Sir clears his throat, snapping his fingers. 

“Well then, it appears we are ready to depart. If we drop you off at around 5:50, that should be right before sunrise. Now, this may hurt a little…heh, more like a lot,” Sir said, still standing over you. Before you have the chance to ask what was happening, a sharp, big pain erupts in the back of your head. As your hands attempt to locate the source of the pain, Dottore and Sir grab an arm each. You scream out, wanting the pain to stop. It was like there was something digging around your brain, searching for something. It wouldn’t take long for that feeling to overcome you. With the remainder of your blurred vision, you see that same velvet pouch they kept your delusion in. They place it right along your waist.

“I’ll…make you proud, Master,” you mumble out, feeling the consciousness leave your body.

You wake up to the feeling of sun rays hitting your face. Eyes open slowly, trying to take in the sun that you hadn’t seen for weeks. The soft grass underneath you makes you want to just go back to sleep. But you had a mission to do. And information to get. But the grass…felt so soft. You touch the grass underneath you, humming along. Maybe you should act more distressed, or was being calm like this part of your spiel? You’d figure it out eventually.

“Hey! You there, it’s not safe to just relax over there! Monsters sometimes come out, like now!” a female voice shouts at you. Your eyes widen as an  arrow is shot directly above you, seeming to hit a nearby slime. You stand up quickly, backing away from the monster. You had never seen one in the wild before, only in books and from some banter in the restaurant. You hold your body, hoping, praying–that this was good enough to come off as ‘normal’.

“Eeeek!” you scream, moving closer to the bow-wielding girl. She shoots two Pyro-imbued shots this time, reducing the slime to dust. You cling onto the girl from behind, trying to act sheepish, harmless. 

“Name’s Amber, and who are you?...Hmm, I don’t recognize you at all. Based on those clothes–are you from Liyue?” Amber asked, pointing at your dress. You shrug before nodding slowly. You catch Amber looking at your symbol. You allow her eyes to linger for a bit before covering it with a hand, eyes looking down.

“Hmm. We have some friendly people here, why don’t you let us help you? We can try finding your family, see how you ended up here,” Amber said, extending a hand out toward you. You take a quick look at the hand before immediately looking down again. Sheepish, your character is nervous–but also avoidant about the talks of the Fatui. Perhaps this outlander did not know what the symbol meant–or was taken aback by it.

“Awh, come on, please? We’ll get some yummy food, our food stalls just opened. Can’t deny a free meal, can you?” Amber asked, pleading with you. You feel her hand take yours, your face moving up with a scarlet blush. Her grip was surprisingly strong to you! You gulp, taking steps with Amber as you enter Mondstadt. You walk this long, cobblestone bridge. You had never seen anything like this before. So much grass, infrastructure–sunlight. You struggle against your mind, wondering if smiling here would be the right call or not.

“Hey! You scared away my birds,” a small boy shouts at the two of you. Amber smiles at the boy, pausing. She takes a few steps toward the small boy and squats down low.

“Morning, Timmie. Give it a few hours and I get a feeling those birds will be back,” Amber said, giving the boy a pat on the head.You watch as the small boy nods with a small blush, turning to face the rushing water below us. As Amber continued toward the front gates, you felt yourself grow nervous. You had almost forgotten your cover name but recovered it in time, sighing. As you approach the front gates, two men stand on either side.

“A new arrival Amber?” asked one of the men.

“Is that a traveler from Liyue, maybe Inazuma?” asked the other.

“I’m still figuring it out, you two! We’re going into town to get some food before I take her to the Knights for questioning. I think we can find her family,” Amber said, bowing before heading on into town. You do a small bow for the guards too before rushing in. You see a variety of different shops before you. To your right appeared to be some masonry. To your left, many different personal mom and pop shops. And, nearly in front of you, lay several flower pots. You are instantly drawn to the flowers. There were never many where you were from, so seeing them so freely on display intrigues you. 

“Huh, oh–you like flowers! Aww, that’s so cute! What’s your favorite one?” Amber asked, waking up beside you. You point toward the Glazed Lily, shocked they had it available here. The smell reminded you of home, of your boyfriend–of Sir.

“Ah, makes sense. Well after we get done eating, how about I buy you a flower? Hehe, take it as a sign of goodwill from your friendly neighborhood Outlander!” Amber said, letting out a cute giggle afterward. You nod, smiling. There was a friendly demeanor about this girl, something you really enjoyed. You decide to stay with her for the time being, until you are able to drag out the target. You climb the cobblestone steps, smiling. Amber’s gloved hands wrap along yours. You hold onto the other tight, taking stock of all the different shopkeeps there were. As you reached where the food stand was, you were able to make out that Fatui symbol. Above the water fountain were two agents, seeming to mumble about something.

“Did you hear about the Fontaine incident?” asked one informant.

“What is it this time…” said the other, seeming to begrudge the sound of the other’s voice. You hear a click in your inner monologue, a familiar laugh greeting your ears. The usual fuzzy noise enters your ears, cueing you to the sound of any other members.

“Hello there, The Doctor reporting in. Looking for Pearls, coming in, Pearls.” said Dottore. You blink, unsure of what to report thus far. You were able to go into the city, that was something. But no real intel to really share.

“Pearls reporting in. I have made it inside of the city, but no intel to report yet.” you reply in your head, trying to also gauge what you would want from the menu. You decide on a nice, filling meal of roast. Amber seems to have the same idea, ordering two of the roasts. 

“Thank you for the order, we’ll bring it out to the table in a moment.” the shopkeeper said, smiling. You smile back, bowing, before following Amber to one of the many wooden tables. You take a seat with Amber, placing up your Fatui itched symbol along the hardwood. You weren’t sure from this angle if this was enough proof for the informants to keep watch of you–but it was something. You let out a loud yawn, stretching with your arms in the air freely. Your eye catches sight of one of the informants turning your way. Your eyes match the female’s before they nod to acknowledge you. They quickly continue on with their prior conversation. 

“You can’t expect her to learn much after an hour on the field. We’ll do another check in tomorrow, we’ll make them daily. Pantalone.” Sir said. You nod at the words, instinctively, before realizing Amber is staring right at you. You clear your throat, shaking your head.

“So tired, I’m sorry,” you said, trying to make up for your odd behavior. Amber doesn’t seem to mind that much though, ripping off a piece of cloth from her shirt.

“That wound of yours could get infected if you just keep it out like that. Let me wrap it up for you, “ Amber said. Shit–you shake your head–knowing you need to keep it in view. You appear frightened as Amber continues to rip off her shirt, taking a moment to hide underneath the table. You yoink your left nipple, hearing that similar static from before.

“Pearls coming in, facing a situation. Outlander is trying to hide a scar to draw out the target, advice needed, Pearls,” you said, hoping for some advice. You remain under the table, wrapping your arms around your pulled in knees.

“Huh, miss–wait, that’s rude of me! I haven’t even asked your name. But. Whatever you are afraid of, please trust me. This city is full of people, helpful people, that will get you back home,” Amber said, peeking underneath the table. You try to face away from her, hearing the informants cough in the distance. It takes a crapload of focus, but you are able to make out a new voice. 

“Do not let them cover it. Say it requires medical attention or perhaps, hmm. Say, you like juice girl?” Sandrone said. What an odd question you found that, but you needed to continue being quick on your feet. Amber wanted to know your name, Sandrone wanted to know about juice of all things.

“Mai,” you whisper, trying to appear too skittish to move from underneath the table. 

“I do, but not sure where this trait of thought is going,” you answer Sandrone, hoping she has an idea of what to do.

“Mai, that’s a pretty name! Why don’t we at least start by sitting at the table? Looks like we’re getting our food soon. We’ll eat then head to the church to get that wound treated, hmm?” Amber offered. You wait for Sandrone’s orders, gulping. 

“Your target owns a juice bar, opens later in the day. See if you can burn time until the outlander takes you there. I believe they open around sunset or 14:00,” Sandrone explained. You nod, sighing. You slowly make your way from under the table, seeing a waitress place two plump roast in front of both of you. Your eyes eat first, seeing the flaky crust matched with freshly browned meat. Cutlery is placed on the table too. Amber happily munches away at her food. You join her, taking large forkfuls of the food in front of you. From the smells and the taste, you knew this was a recipe you wanted to bring back home. You could already assume half of the flavoring, meat used, among other aspects. As you work to finish your meal, you hear footsteps approach the two of you. Your eyes look up quickly, seeing a man with dark blue hair. His eyes remind you of Pierro’s, which confuses you. You tilt your head at the man, offering a small wave.

“Huh, what are you doing up this early Kaeya?” Amber asked with a mouthful of meat in her mouth. Kaeya laughs at her before narrowing his eyes at you. You notice he walks up to you, slowly, before placing a hand in front of your meal.

“Oh, just up doing some early workouts. Now, who is this alluring lady,” Kaeya said, eying you up. You look elsewhere, trying not to be a tease. You had so many men at the hideout already. Why add another one, especially with eyes like Pierro’s? You huff at the man’s behavior, trying to look away. 

“That’s someone I saved from a slime not too long ago, her name’s Mai! I was going to drop her off at the Knights of Favonius for questioning. I think her hometown is from Liyue, but I’m not quite sure. She was just dazed, lying in the field right outside of the gates. I think we may have some other people to blame as well,” Amber said, seeming to gesture toward your wounded arm. You try to hide it again, but Kaeya denies you this. He pulls your arm up straight with his arm, observing the carving. You look away, down toward the ground, uncertain. You had little intel on this man–all you knew was that he was a part of the Knights. He wasn’t your target, which made this more of a time waste than anything.

“Hm, a Fatui mark of all things carved into the skin. I think Jean may want to see to this one personally,” Kaeya said, pulling you up. You abruptly stand from your seat, frowning. That tasty meat would go to waste if you were to be dragged off now. But…you would be able to go deeper. If intel was correct, Jean was the acting leader of the knights. That could give you leads on what their next moves looked like.

“Sounds and looks more like a you issue. Let her go, she’s finishing her meal!” Amber said, grumbling as she stood and locked eyes with Kaeya. Kaeya stared right back at her before huffing, letting your arm fall back to its side. You look back down at your meal, going right back to it.

“Fine. I’ll let the stray finish her meal, then we’ll get to business,” Kaeya said, yawning, “Are you always this rowdy in the morning.” Instead of listening to their back and forth, you continue eating away at your dish. The meat was great–matched with such a sweet sauce too. You made a mental note to make a similar dish for the Harbingers later on. Maybe it could be a celebratory meal of whatever you all were trying to accomplish? 

As you finish your meal, you give a short bow to Amber. As expected, she was kind, generous, and all the things she promised. Kaeya appeared to be less trusting of you already. He stood in front of you two as you finished your meal, not moving and simply arguing with the Outlander. 

“Nice and full there, Mai? Come. Let’s take you to the office to get you settled,” Kaeya said, offering out his hand. His skin seemed darker than the rest of the folks here–you wonder if it’s due to him being from a different nation. You shake off those thoughts, taking his hand. He gently pulls you to your feet.

“Don’t be afraid to find me again, I’ll be around! If Kaeya does anything gross, just let Jean know!” Amber yelled, your face forming a soft smile. That girl was nice–nicer than most people you met in your life. It hurts your heart to have to betray her. Was this the feeling Tartaglia alluded to–this grating on the nerves? As the two of you ascend more stairs, Kaeya’s demeanor switches. He seems more talkative, quiet, and serious.

“So then, care to tell me your real story? I’m not exactly buying this whole ‘I’m from Liyue’ story myself,” Kaeya said, shaking his head, “And it’s not like just anyone drew that on you. It was likely some very powerful people.” You gulp as he seems sharper than the girl before. You keep your vision down, wanting to appear afraid of the man. You keep your eyes to the ground, nervous, unsure of how to answer. You want to grab your nipple to begin communication again, but it may seem odd.

“I, I don’t know,” you mutter, trying to sound confused. You continue to walk but hear Kaeya’s steps stop. Before you are able to turn and face him, his sword cuts your velvet pouch strap from your dress. You hear the pearls drop to the ground, still within their pouch. You do your best not to panic, deeply inhaling as you reach toward the velvet pouch. 

“Hm, but you seem to value whatever it is in that pouch. Show me,” Kaeya demanded, brandishing his sword in broad daylight. The nerve of the man to try and fight you. Resisting the urge to put the pearls into use, you keep them in the pouch, clutching them tight.

“They are my family heirloom. I don’t have anything else,” you reply, keeping things short and sweet. Sir claimed the simple lies are the easiest to recall. Making a complex story would require an ample amount of brainpower to keep up. And, with your current situation, complicating things would make things worse. 

“A family heirloom you say? How about we get it appraised by our local luxury goods specialist Marjorie,” Kaeya said, cackling, “Can’t expect to live here long without some sort of change.” You shake your head, huffing. The attitude, ego, and audacity of the man before you made you angry. But you needed to stay calm, at least until you found the target.

The two of you finish entering a large building, finding the first door on the left open. In it you see a blond-haired woman reviewing a plethora of documents along a wooden desk. Her eyes appear strained, as if she had just woken up. Kaeya approaches the open door, knocking on the wooden frame. This jolts the blond to look at you two, a small smile on her face.

“Well hi there Kaeya…what’s going on? Why are you here so early? I was just reviewing these reports,” the blond asked, stacking and placing the papers along the edge of the table. Your eyes could make out the word ‘Fatui’ in some of them, so you edge closer. Kaeya follows you, though his eyes seem stuck to you. You do your best not to seem too snoopy, letting your eyes fall on all the smaller details of the room. Your eyes return to the paperwork, seeing multiple incident reports made about Fatui activity in Fontaine. Huh–that’s where Columbina, Knave, and Sandrone were heading! But how were you to read into these reports more?

“Amber caught this lovely woman out in the fields. Nothing on her but her acclaimed family heirloom. Claims to be from Liyue, but I have my doubts. Mai’s the name. Beauty like hers does not trace from that area of Teyvet,” Kaeya said, seeming to compliment you. Huh–what was the man–a playboy? Your eyes continue to observe multiple different spots in the room, noting especially the ‘To Do’ list. You make a mental note of the Fontaine trip being on top, while Nathlan was closer to the bottom.

“Kaeya, that’s borderline harassment, please stop. Now, Mai, is there anything you can recall before waking up? My name is Jean, and I want to help you like Amber has. Maybe we can reconnect you with your family or loved ones,” Jean said, smiling as she extends an arm to you. You keep your pearls close to you in one hand, while the other shakes Jean’s hand. Kaeya makes an attempt to grab at your pearls, but you tighten your grip. Jean sees this, her eyes narrowing at Kaeya as she stands.

“Hey. What is really going on, Kaeya? Even with girls you’re trying to court, you respect their boundaries some,” Jean adds, moving from behind her desk toward you two. Her long, thick legs are acquainted by her white pants.  A green-like vest covers her bosoms and most of her upper body area. You drive the point of space through, taking a step or two away from Kaeya. 

“The girl’s been clutching onto that bag for dear life. I’m just curious to see what’s in it,” Kaeya said, smiling, “It could give us a clue.” Jean nods at those words before sighing.

“At least explain your reasoning before you try something like that,” Jean said, turning to you, “Would you show us your heirloom? It may help us.” You mull over your options. If you showed them your pearls, they’d see you as a vision user. A Cryo vision user from Liyue would be nothing short of a strange occurrence. But you had no other options, or anywhere else to run. The more you hide, the less you’d likely find out. Your fingers carefully dive into the velvet pouch bag, flourishing the contents for a few moments before shoving it all back in. Signs of intrigue show Kaeya and Jean faces , the two exchanging knowing glances.

“Huh. Who would’ve thought, a vision holder like me. Same element no less. Maybe that’s why you’re so shy, we’re so alike,” Kaeya said, chuckling as he extends his hand once more, “My apologies about my comment from earlier. We won’t sell your vision of course.” You nod to the man, opting to bow instead of shaking his hand. Jean clears her throat, taking your wounded arm and inspecting it quickly.

“A Fatui symbol? Do you remember who did this to you?” Jean asked. You shrugged, shaking your head ‘no’. Kaeya and Jean look at each other, looks of worry spread across their faces.

“This may be a case of Fatui experimentation. The vision itself appears normal, but I wouldn’t put it past them to mix a real vision with a delusion. Would you feel comfortable with us inspecting that closer,” Jean asked. You shook your head violently ‘no’, clutching the pearls for dear life. You had to keep using that same lie–but maybe you could add some depth to it?

“My parents. Gave me these. I can’t. I won’t. Share them. It’s all I have to connect me to home,” you mutter, kneeling down some. You feel Jean’s hand stroke your back, her blond hair in view. She gives you a tight hug. You return it, sniffling to bring the whole ‘sad girl act’ home.

“It’s alright, we just want to make sure you’re safe and not being exploited. Right Kaeya?” Jean said, turning her head to look at the unmoved Kaeya. He was truly a hard man to please or convince. Part of you worries he already knows your true self and is waiting for the right time to call you out. 

“Also, ensuring we aren’t inviting a threat into these walls,” Kaeya replies, taking steps away from the office, “I don’t care how innocent you look. You have a Vision, and likely power. Right now you’re acting meek, but I want to see the real you.” Jean sighs and shakes her head at Kaeya, turning back to you.

“Just, ignore him. He makes everyone out to be an enemy until he’s able to flesh them out. So Mai, is there anything else you can provide us? Is anyone else in your family also a Cryo user? That could help expedite search efforts,” Jean asked. You shrug again, wishing you had a better cover story. Just a boring name with a boring life–how were you going to get to documents like that?!? You shake your head again, trying your best to formulate a decent excuse to remain in Mondstadt. 

“I dunno. Maybe I should just stay here until they pick me up?” you said, looking over at the two. They both seem deep in thought before smiling at each other, nodding. Jean raises to her feet, walking toward the entrance of the room. Kaeya does the same, holding a hand along the doorknob.

“Kaeya and I are going to have a quick chat with some of the watchers outside of the gates. We’re hoping they know who left you in the field or why. Do you feel comfortable staying here alone, or would you like to come with us?” Jean asked, smiling toward you. You shrug, sitting along the floor. Kaeya holds the doorknob close to his frame, not exiting the room.

“Hmm, perhaps you should just go Jean. Someone ought to keep the girl company after all,” Kaeya said. You wanted to be alone though. Being alone meant rifling through papers and gathering intel. Having Kaeya throw attempts at flirting in your face would be boring, fruitless, and honestly annoying. You turn away from him, huffing. You continue to clutch your pearls.

“Hmm, with how you were already acting, that’s a lawsuit waiting to happen. Come on, let’s go. I’ll ask Lisa to keep an eye on her in the meantime,” Jean said. A disappointed gasp leaves Kaeya’s mouth, closing the door with a ‘thump’. You wait a few seconds, listening for any other pairs of shoes or feet to hit the outside door surface. You pull tight on your left nipple, hearing that static from earlier. You stay seated, slowly crawling toward Jean’s desk. Your arms lift you gently before flipping through the Fontaine report. 

“Pearls, reporting in. Reviewing Mondstadt’s recap of Fontaine events surrounding the Hydro gnosis,” you said, hoping that would be useful to some.

“Please locate and share the location of The Traveler. That will determine where the gnosis is currently hiding,” Sandrone asked, her tone serious. You gulp, trying to flip and read through the pages as quickly as possible. You hear steps approaching the room, meaning you hadn’t much time to find that information. You seem to find the only line relevant to the search.

“The Traveler will be working intermittently with allies to hide and mystify the location of the Hydro gnosis ” you read off, quickly ending transmission with the tug of your right nipple. The report read as vague, which was likely purposeful. You sit down along the desk, facing the door as it opens. A woman dressed in a purple and black dress arrives into the room. A large hat frames her long brown hair. Her eyes appeared focused on you–the paperwork–and then you again. You can hear the sound of her high heels kick against the wooden floor, before those feet appear directly in front of you. Your eyes slowly move upward, noting the thigh high stockings and ample bosom. You nod to the woman, trying to act nonchalant. But you just made your first mistake–leaving your elemental energy traces on the paperwork. You had touched your vision–which likely generated some of that Cyro energy Lisa may be adept at sensing. You note the Eletro gnosis tied to the woman’s neck as a necklace.

“Well hi there, cutie. What made you so curious about Fontaine?” Lisa asked, a smile curling on her lips. You shrug, trying to play it off cool. Was there a way of saying ‘I screwed up and left my mark on the paperwork’ a valid thing to say? You inhale, trying to find the words.

“Uh. Never been, wanted to know what it’s like,” you mutter, hoping that would suffice the woman’s knowledge. You see her face match yours, her eyes looking deep into yours. 

“I’m not sure how far Jean got with introductions, but I am the head librarian here. Any books you would like to check out are fine by me. We have an extensive catalog on most of the regions. Would it help the time pass if I picked out some especially for you? I’ll wait until they return to grab them, of course,” Lisa asked, her eyes turning wide as she sees the symbol carved into your arm. You try to hide it at first, but Lisa makes easy work of pulling both of your arms to the side. You wince, feeling the wound bleed some by the force. You cry out some in pain, Lisa’s eyes turning wider by the moment. She gradually lets your hands fall before embracing you in her arms. 

“Poor thing. I know that knife work. I know some of the twisted things he’s done, especially with Collei. Tell me–is that ghastly Dottore part of this?” Lisa asked. You flinch on instinct, swearing to yourself by giving that away. Lisa’s arms remain tight around you.

“It’s ok, you need not say a word more. He’s getting too flashy, dropping off his little ‘experiments’ at my front door,” Lisa mutters, her voice getting quieter the more she goes on, “He swore to keep it away from me…but here you are.” You are confused at this development. If The Doctor knew Lisa knew of his exploits, why choose this place of any to station you in? You remain quiet, worried what the new information could do to your cover, your entire identity. Before you can tell, Lisa’s hands are already securely around your pearls. Her gloves make a sizzling sound, forcing her to drop them to the ground.

“A delusion with a vision…how reprehensible,” Lisa said, her eyes turning dark as she watches the Pearls fall to the floor. You reach, quickly throwing them back in the velvet pouch. Lisa shakes her head at that, sighing. 

“With how closely those two items have bonded. And how long you were like this…I truly worry for you,” Lisa said, pulling her hand away to pat your head. You nod, sniffling. There was that word again–bonding–what the hell did it mean? 

“What’s that mean…bonding,” you ask, letting some of your genuine curiosity shine through. You watch as Lisa turns to you, patting your shoulder. You lean in some, resting your head along the woman’s shoulder. Her arm wraps around you.

“Bonding, hmm. I am trying to find a simplified way to put it. Hmm, I’ll try a cooking analogy. Imagine you are trying to mix oil and water. If you pour them in a cup together, they eventually separate from each other. It’s how their molecules are structured–they rather stick to similar molecules. With bonding, you are using a variety of methods to get things like oil and water to mix. This typically involves the use of chemicals, machinery, or anything a scientist can dream of. This is why Dottore’s so dangerous in this field of work. He knows no limits besides his own potential. If I had to assume based on the corrosive impacts and nature of those pearls. They may be testing something with acid or perhaps even manipulating blood itself,” Lisa said. The librarian was as sharp as a tack, seeming to guesstimate the entirety of your delusion power. You play dumb, nodding along as if you hadn’t a clue. Now you had some inkling of what Dottore meant by bonding. And now, more than ever, you felt compelled to find out more. Even if it were behind the organization’s back, it could help you come to terms with your reality more. 

“But why worry for me?” you ask, nervous to come off as too confident. But Lisa’s green eyes size you up well, placing her hands along her lap. She appears hesitant to speak up at first, but faces you with a serious expression.

“Because all delusions eventually become unstable. No matter how bonded they become to an actual Vision, their components often are too unstable to withstand their original shape. Those pearls? Who knows what they could become if put under enough of a stress test. My worry is, that’s exactly what he’s after. Try to stay out of combat for now, alright? With any luck, you should be able to remove the Vision from the pearls in time,” Lisa explained. The words felt over your head, and you could feel your heart pounding more. You had to give them the information they wanted, but…were they really expecting you alive? They laughed at you when trying to decorate your room. Humiliate you, albeit mutual.  Lisa seemed to know a lot, despite just being a librarian. You move in closer to her, nervous, gulping. Lisa’s hand moves and strokes your cheek, her other arm  gently pressing you along your chest.

“And this conversation? Unless it becomes pertinent information, I won’t share it with anyone. Well, as long as you do something for me,” Lisa said, her tone turning sharp. What exactly could the woman want? Before you can ask, you feel lulled to sleep…it appears you had forgotten rule number one all over again. Your eyes struggle open, seeing a small smile on Lisa’s face. They close once more, welcoming you to the darkness you were growing too accustomed to.

Chapter Text

Your eyes open to a dimly lit library. You were confused–you were just in the acting grand master’s office. You feel something stuffed in your mouth. You try to spit it out but it's too deep to move. Your eyes observe the area surrounding you. The library itself was quaint, empty– the changed location was likely purposeful. You move your legs to find them tied securely to the chair you sat on. You wiggle your feet, feeling nothing but tight ropes hugging your skin.

You were proving to be a terrible spy so far. Not only did people already doubt you–you were captured early on. You felt shame, a bit of guilt too. Perhaps you did fair better at cooking like Sir originally suggested. Eyes sullen, you continue to try and find other clues of where you were. You were surrounded by different pictures. The pictures appear to tell a story. You follow from what you surmise to be the beginning, seeing a girl from Mondstadt. She has bright red hair with a friendly smile across her face. As you review the photos, you see the smile gradually fade, the signs of aging seeming to increase as each photo passes. By the 5th photo, you see no link to the older woman and the younger one at all. It was as if they were no longer the same person.

“What you are viewing is my own research regarding delusions. That woman–Ms.Sybil–was a victim much like you. She was given her very own delusion. With how Sybil acted at first, she saw it as a gift. She began taking on commissions as an adventurer. From here to Liyue, Liyue to Inazuma…things were okay. Until her delusion had a negative reaction with someone else in Inazuma. It was as if her life was sapped straight from her body. I knew this would happen, so I made close records of her…until her last days. That was not the first time Dottore has sent me one of his ‘presents’. But. I wish it was the last,” Lisa said, her hand rubbing against your shoulder. Perhaps you still had a cover–though weak–you weren’t surrounded by people. You try to speak, but the gag in your mouth prevents any noise from getting out. 

You feel Lisa’s soft hands stroke at your chin, pulling your head up to view her. Those long, flowing brown locks touch your face. Lisa’s expression was hard to read–much like Sir’s. The blank expression she wore made it difficult to gauge what was coming next. You remind yourself to try and find a reaction–any reaction–to what was going on. You try to speak again, feeling whatever was in your mouth remains stuck in your airway. Lisa shakes her head at this, squeezing your face with her hand.

“So, I’m only going to ask you this once. Your answer will be valuable in determining who you are to us, Mondstadt. Are you a Fatui informant? Or–as most are expecting–simply a person they took advantage of?” Lisa asked. You knew the librarian was serious. Not being able to say much, you continue to stare up at Lisa’s green eyes. Without your voice, how exactly were you supposed to answer? You remain sitting, silent. The minutes keep ticking on by, the awkwardness of the situation rising. 

“Hmm. Well, this is proving interesting. You don’t want to answer–that’s fine. A head shake would have been appropriate, but perhaps too simple to explain whatever relationship you may have with the Fatui. To offer some context, this section of the library is my own personal quarters. I have warned Jean and others that we’re up here for a more private discussion. Depending on how you answer me and your reactions, determines where you will go from here. I do not take Mondstadt’s safety lightly. With that said, feel free to share any information,” Lisa explained further. Her hand digs into your mouth, revealing an odd type of gag. It was a balled up paper, with different writings etched onto it. The writing turns a vibrant purple as she pulls it from your mouth. You cough as it's removed, unsure of what to say. And–with your hands tied–you couldn’t call for help. Your eyes scan the room, hoping to find some shred of conversation to have. You didn’t want to blow your cover so easily. But you did not want to falter here. Not now–not even if it resulted in prison.

“It is. I. I don’t know, really. How to put it all,” you said, hoping that vagueness would help. But you find yourself coughing. You cough some more, a small trickle of blood visible on your tongue.

“Hmm, somewhat truthful. I like a little resistance,” Lisa said, her fingers gingerly tapping along your neck. You feel a heat scorch along your throat, causing you to cough even more. Did Lisa have knowledge of some sort of spells, like a witch? Were witches even real? You cough more this time, feeling blood rush up toward your mouth. You spit downward, revealing a strange blood-laden message.

The blood you spat out managed to form an image of sorts. There was a vague female body(you), and on either side of you had been the  silhouettes of Sir and Tartaglia. You feel Lisa’s grip get tight around your neck. You heave, unsure of when the heat would stop radiating from your neck. It was a type of pain you never expected to face so early on. To be tortured like this, burning throat–bloody lips. You force yourself to stare back up at Lisa.

“Hmm, now that could prove useful. Tartaglia, known as Childe, is showing in your blood. Could you tell me why that is?” Lisa asked, that grip around your neck growing tighter. It’s now you feel tempted to see if you had your vision. Your eyes cross the room, searching for that black velvet pouch. But it was nowhere to be seen. Your struggle against the ropes, straining. 

“His real name is Ajax. We are. Uh. Old friends that grew up around the same area,” you say, feeling the heat along your neck reduce greatly. Did the spell Lisa cast on you force you to be honest, or else feel your blood boil? You wince at the thought, shutting your eyes tight. You do the same with your mouth–teeth creating a caged barrier between tongue and lips.

“Oh, I see. So this is more personal than anything. What is your relationship,” Lisa said, her fingers dropping from your throat entirely, “My spell, Blood Spills, will tell me if you won’t.” You turn scarlet red, trying to find another way out. Somehow admitting he was your boyfriend was worse than admitting you were a Harbinger. You gulp, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. That blush doesn’t fade, your eyes opening, which makes Lisa grow ever more curious.

“Hmm. This entire conversation continues to intrigue me. Is it that you don’t want your boyfriend to get in trouble, hmm?” Lisa asked, shaking her head as a smirk spreads across her face. As much as you wished to deny the truth–you decide the torture itself is not worth it.

“He. He and I are. Uhm dating, yes. But,” you try to say, but feel yourself struggle at communicating much further. Your throat felt cool, like you just drank some mint tea. The boiling feeling fades fully, your throat coughing up a small eletro crystal. That cool feeling soon leaves your throat too. Lisa sighs, picking up the crystal. 

“What an odd woman you are. Is it that you and Tartaglia are going through a fight? Did he leave you here after a disagreement?” Lisa asked, pulling out your delusion, “Or was he mad you weren’t using your delusion?” You shake your head at all those options, closing your eyes once more. Before much else can be spoken, you hear a far off door. Your eyes open to see a blond-haired person. They did not look familiar or too special.

“Oh, hey cutie! Apologies, just giving the person in the chair a bit of a cross examination. They were found early this morning with a Fatui symbol carved into the skin. The carving reminded me of The Doctor. Any chance she may be being used, I wanted to explore. Just turns out it was a misunderstanding,” Lisa said. You smile, happy to hear the librarian keep true to her promise earlier. You feel the ropes loosen around you, a soft sigh leaving your mouth. The blond enters further into the room, her long hair swaying. She stops short of you and Lisa, eying the both of you.

“Cutie, this is Mai. Mai, this is The Traveler,” Lisa said. You do a double take on the blond, realizing who this was. Your hands were free–but pulling your nipple now would draw too much attention. You move a hand forward to shake her hand, smiling.

“I’ve heard many great things about you, Traveler,” you said. The Traveler nods, waving at you.

“Heeey, why’d you ditch me? Huh–oh, hi Lisa! We’re here to see if you have any books regarding ‘Decesenders’. It’s something we learned about in Sumeru that may be helpful,” a chipper voice said. A small, fairy-like creature floats into the room as well. You stare at the creature, unsure of what to make of it. The creature stares back at you, an angry look on her face. You hear Lisa laugh, gently tapping your shoulder.

“Mai, this is Paimon. She’s the traveler’s companion,” Lisa explains, gesturing toward the creature. You nod to the creature, giving them a wave. The creature waves back before turning to The Traveler, cheeks puffed out. The blond asks what’s on the creature’s mind, and boy did Paimon have a lot to say. You drown out Paimon’s obsession over food, turning back to Lisa.

“Thank you for your time today, Lisa. Is there somewhere where I can use the restroom, clean up?” you asked. Lisa turns to regard you, thinking for a short while. She then nods, gesturing to you to follow.

“I’ll get to looking for that book subject. That’s quite an interesting one. After I take Mai to the restrooms, I’ll ask for more context,” Lisa said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. The two seem fine with the arrangement, staying while Lisa and you walk toward the hallways. You and Lisa settle into a comfortable silence, scaling the building. You grow curious as you see a number of offices with paperwork  scattered around.  You remain quiet, not wanting to bring any more suspicion to yourself. As you reach the end of a long hallway, there’s a restroom open for use. You bow to Lisa. You feel her arms come to wrap around you. You do a quick inhale before holding in your breath, wanting to avoid any knockout drugs. Lisa shifts you and her own body, pushing you up against the wall. Your eyes scan the sad look across Lisa’s face. Was this librarian...crying? Your eyes move in closer before your lips are taken by hers. She kisses against you with passion, desire–a fire that reminds you of SIr. You keep your wits about you, eyes making note of any slight changes of environment. Nothing around you changes, and as Lisa pulls away, she licks her lips. 

“Mmm. That is him, I taste on you,” Lisa mutters, her arms holding tight onto you. You blush, unsure of which ‘he’ Lisa could be referring to. You stay quiet, letting those words simmer in your mind. There would be no way Dottore had a girlfriend out in Mondstadt, right..? Right as you try to move toward the bathroom, you hear Lisa’s heel connect with the wall you are behind. You try to step over, but feel Lisa’s other heel get too close to your groin for comfort. Her body closes in on yours, somehow managing to keep her arms around you.

“What is it to you?” you ask, getting somewhat restless. You had intel and Lisa was keeping a step ahead of you each way. You hear her heels scratch against the concrete. This brings your own hands along your ears, hating that sound. As your hands move, so does Lisa. She takes small steps away from you, standing besides the restroom. You tilt your head–curious–but understanding that she may not want to speak more on it.

You walk toward the restroom, giving it a close. You tug at your left nipple, a familiar static  filling your ears. You take the moment to do a general hygiene check as well, using the toilet as you relay your information.

“ Pearls coming in. I had a visual of The Traveler, currently in Mondstadt. Awaiting further orders. Also, had a variety of close calls with the librarian known as Lisa. ” you relay, hoping that would be substantial enough for your direct reports. 

“ Thank you for confirming. We will hold current positions until we learn more of her movements. Do you have any additional intel to report? ” Sandrone asked, her voice as serious as ever. You nod toward that, but hear the door suddenly open. You were washing your hands, Lisa smiling over to you.

“I had no intention of leaving you, darling. After what we discussed thus far, us talking may be beneficial for the both of us,” Lisa said, eying your body up and down. You feel nervous–what if Lisa was smart enough to hack the communication method?

“ Not exactly. The Traveler is looking for intel on something called Descenders. And also looking for uh, food of some sort? That fairy thing or whatever is strange. ” you said, exiting the bathroom.

“ Listen. Do not trust Lisa. She knows of my experimentation methods. With her vast knowledge and ability to mask her feelings, she is the only real threat to you. Remain calm but stay alert. ” Dottore warns. The transmission comes to a sudden end, the static leaving your head entirely. You shake your head, wishing he warned you about her from the start. 

Lisa and you return to the room from earlier, not another  word exchanged between the two of you. What if she could hear inside of your head? What if she heard those members talking–the information you just shared?!? You were putting as much focus on remaining calm. Your hands rest on either end of you, shaking the remaining nerves from your arms. 

“They’re back, finally! So, long s–” Paimon began to explain, but Lisa waves at the fairy creature. 

“Let’s return our injured friend to the Church. That wound on her–wait…hmm. How strange,” Lisa said, her eyes looking over where the craving had been. Your eyes review it, too, noticing it had significantly healed on its own. You hide what remains of the carving, shrugging. 

“Hmm, but why? Is she injured at all–or is she just religious?” Paimon questioned. You shrug once more, trying to play it cool while trying to gain more information on what this whole ‘Descender’ mess was about. Lisa takes a step beside you, pulling along your semi-healed arm. She inspects where the wound had been, sizing up how much had healed already. 

“Hmm. Mai had a significant injury along her arm in the morning. Now, around evening, it's just about healed. Do you happen to know if your vision has healing properties?” Lisa asked, her fingers gently tugging along your wound. You gasp in pain, trying to stop Lisa. But her fingers dig in deeper. You cover your mouth, tears coming toward the side of your eyes. You keep that hand over your mouth, hiding the moans you were so desperately wanting to make. It takes The Traveler to grab Lisa’s shoulder to stop the pulling. The scene playing out in front of you reminds you much of Sir. You hadn’t expected to miss the group much–until all you  could think to do was compare the people around you to them.

“Sorry cutie. I got a bit too invested in all this. Mai’s unaware of what led her here. She just woke up in the fields where Amber found her, about to be attacked by a slime. The Fatui symbol was carved into her arm.” Lisa said, resting an arm along where the carving had been. You brace for more pain, pleasure–whatever that would come to pass. 

“Whaat, a Fatui symbol!?? What do you all suppose it’s for?” Paimon asked, The Traveler nodding to the question as well. Lisa shrugs, patting your wound more gently.

“Who knows. All we know is, she may be useful to Fatui. But we are still searching for her family in the meantime. I promised Jean I’d watch over her. My thought, since Mona is out for training for the next few months, is to have her take a room in Angel’s Share. I still need to ask Diluc about the particulars, though,” Lisa said. There he was–Diluc. He was your target. He was the one Sir wanted dead. You feel your heart drop. If you could get a room in his bar–that would make things cleaner. You listen close to those words, nodding to Lisa.

“I appreciate the room. I’m sorry I haven’t been as helpful. It’s just. Hard to recall things. Where are my pearls?” you asked, trying to come off as spacey. You note Lisa’s eyes connect with yours. There’s a knowing silence that grows between you. The fairy flies in front of you.

“Huh, what pearls?” Paimon asked. The Traveler has a confused look too. Lisa pulls out a familiar velvet pouch from her back, shaking her head. She hands it back to you, but looks at you with a worried face. You shake your head.

“I can’t let go of this heirloom,” you said, clutching it in your arms, “I refuse to.” There’s another bout of silence that is had, before Paimon flies between the three of you.

“What is going on! Ugh–I just want some sticky roast! Can we move this along so we can get some?” Paimon complains. You laugh at the petulant attitude of the fairy, The Traveler and Lisa joining in.

“Well, we don’t want a grumpy Paimon do we? Let’s make our way back outside. I hope it isn’t too much to ask–but could you two accompany us to Dawn Winery? I need a chance to stretch these legs of mine. And we could also ask to see if Diluc’s well versed about this ‘Descender’ topic too,” Lisa said. They were leading you to the target, what else could you  hope for? You see Paimon cheer in glee at the mention of food, your mind more focused on how to approach Diluc. All you knew was he was a dangerous Pyro user who also had vast knowledge of Fatui insight. If he was as sharp as Lisa–this would prove even more challenging. You focus up, standing up straight as you follow the group outside of the building. Lisa and The Traveler discuss their most recent travels. You listen to try and ascertain more information regarding the Hydro gnosis, but do not hear much. You sigh, stretching as you wonder what awaits you at the Winery. You hadn’t a clue how to navigate this region. You were at the mercy of The Traveler and Lisa, who seemed to confuse you more than anything.

You allow yourself to space out of the conversation eventually, none of it seeming relevant at all. You hear a familiar static fill your ears.

“ Pearls, report in. Is that Lisa…still there, next to you? ” Dottore asked, a curious tone to his voice. You were surprised. Perhaps you shouldnt’ be–they did give off that ‘old friends to lovers to enemies’ vibe. You stretch, thinking of a response.

“ Yes. The Traveler, Lisa, Paimon, and I are leaving the walls and heading toward Dawn Winery to meet with target Diluc. Target has not divulged any hints of Hydro gnosis location. ” you replied, following the group as you exited Mondstadt’s walls. The static in your ear fades quicker than usual, Lisa’s hand grabbing your own.

“Stay close to me–and remember what I said about combat. The more you use that vision, the riskier it becomes. Traveler, Mai is a victim of a similar Fatui plot that you spoke to me about. You know, about the delusions–rapid aging, that terrible mess,” Lisa explained, gesturing toward you, “And what’s worse is that they managed to bind her actual vision to the delusion.” You watch as a concerned expression overcomes the blond’s face, turning to you. You shrug at The Traveler, trying not to seem too concerned. It wasn’t like you could feel yourself aging. Dottore seemed to have improved in his skills over the years if you weren’t aging like the lady in the photographs.

“Woooah, that means she could turn super old like those soldiers in Inazuma did? So she just can’t use her vision at all?” Paimon asked, staring at you. This time you pout, looking away from the fairy. You can hear her wings flutter to try and face you.

“What, I’m just trying to learn about you! Sheesh,” Paimon adds, crossing her arms as she takes personal offense of you not acknowledging her. 

“That’s part of the many unknowns we shouldn’t explore. The Doctor’s experimentation is not to be trifled with. There’s also the aspect of her memory, as well as other factors we may never know,” Lisa explained, walking through thickets of trees. You hardly saw the forest before it suddenly surrounded you. Your eyes gaze upon large trees, towering over you. Your hands gently pat each tree trunk, not used to seeing so much greenery. Paimon seems to pick up on this, touching the tree trunks as well. She appears confused, as she touches these multiple times with no response. You shake your head at the fairy, continuing forward with Lisa and The Traveler. Traveling through thick trees like this fills you with wonder. You feel some strain to your legs as the hilly areas challenge the constitution of your muscles. You had trained for about a week–but nothing like this. The grassy, hilly areas matched with the humidity. That tight dress along your body felt more like a cage. Or was the dress meant for you to be in pain? You shake your head as you think on it, a small smile spreading across your face. 

You exchange pleasantries with those surrounding you during the hour it takes you to travel. You learn that The Traveler has been visiting prior regions in hopes to learn more about their history. You are stunned that such a decorated person still has unknowns to their own identity. Paimon continues to drone on about food, but the topic changes from that to some sort of grape juice Diluc makes. 

Lisa, however, remains quiet much like you. You hold hands in silence, though as you approach a large building besides a statue, you hear the static fill your ears, hurting them. You use your other hand to cover it, straining.

“ Lisa, if you can hear me right now…show me a sign ” Dottore asked, gulping as you stopped in place. Lisa continues to hold your hand, looking back with a confused expression. You knew it–she had some sort of loop-in to your communication! You try to continue but Lisa does not move. The Traveler looks back, gesturing to the closeness of the Dawn Winery. 

“Hmm–how about you scout ahead and locate Diluc for us cutie? I think Mai needs to rest for a bit–she’s not used to traveling,” Lisa said, patting along your back. You nod to that, hoping, praying she would be gentler than last time with questioning. The Traveler nods before turning to walk down toward the Winery. You turn your head to regard Lisa, but she already closed her eyes.

“ Whatever system you are using, I appear to be able to utilize it near one of the Statues of Seven. I have a few requests to be fulfilled to ensure your cargo’s safety, ” Lisa said. There was no sign of negotiation either. You keep calm, looking down at the grassy plain before you. The hills stretched endlessly with dandelions swaying in the wind. For such a beautiful land, you wish you could fully enjoy it. Not to be stuck as some communication tool for bitter ex’s. 

“ Fine, fine. You point out some technical issues I’ll need to iron out with my next testing series, ” Dottore said, heavily sighing, “ Just don’t harm the girl further. ” What would look like two women taking a break from the sunlight was just a very precarious situation. Lisa had her arms wrapped along your figure nice and tight. Underneath one of the many trees, you awaited what demands Lisa would state. You note the statue nearby, seeming to have a carving of some sort of angel-like figure at the top. You had only seen one like it in your time. You make a mental note to stay away from said towers when trying to speak of sensitive information. Then again, that could be a bluff to build a false sense of safety when she could hear all along. This would be a difficult situation to resolve. 

“ Very well. Tell me more about this girl’s vision and why you have chosen to give her such a dangerous delusion. And–as another note–tell me how this communication system came about. I never gave you my consent to use my research like this, ” Lisa said, seeming to be fuming by her tone. But, her gentle hands betray those stinging words. Her hand gently pulls through your hair, scratching your scalp even. Lisa adjusts, allowing your head to rest in her lap. You close your eyes, feeling comfortable here. You doubt the librarian would risk knocking you out a second time away from the city and in an area that could have monsters. 

“ I never needed your consent, silly. You’ve grown awfully stubborn since your time away from the academy. Perhaps now, I find myself more enamored with you than ever. The fact that this occurred is even more astounding! I wonder if the Archons are among the ones to hear this, too. If you want to feed yourself with the fancifulness of my genius, I’m more than welcome to share. The communication system is nerve-based. Obviously you cannot trace this method back at all, or even call the girl out on it. The delusion is blood-based. The girl appears to have bonded well with the delusion, vision, and the overall experiment. She’s even got rapid-healing! ” Dottore explained, his tone growing more crazed and overjoyed the longer he went on. You keep a smile on your face, trying to act natural, casual. Dottore was correct in saying it was impossible to trace. You doubted The Traveler or Lisa knew of any Archons that would, even if they could listen, confirm that fact. You feel Lisa’s nails stop digging at your scalp, simply patting at your hair. You continue to keep your eyes closed, enjoying this pampering, even if it were fake. 

“ And you’ve grown stubborn yourself. I don’t even want to know how much blood has been spilled to get this research far along. I want this girl to remain safe, but, I will not be afraid to use torture methods if needed. There is more context I need before I can fully understand what this is about. So, you better– ” Lisa explained, but that familiar fairy was back near us again. You hear the wings flutter as an excited giggle leaves its mouth. You open your eyes, deciding to entertain whatever news Paimon brings.

“Heyy, you two! Diluc’s going to make us something yummy as a treat for stopping by! Hurry up before it gets cold,” Paimon yells out, a big grin on her face. You nod to Paimon, slowly raising from Lisa’s lap. You can feel the librarian’s hand tug at yours some, a signal not to leave just yet.

“Alrighty, sounds good. We’ll meet you down there in about ten,” Lisa said, that fistful of hair she grabbed remaining in her grasp. Paimon does not seem to notice this, drifting back down to the Winery. 

“ As I was saying. You better keep your nose and experiments out of Mondstadt. I figure it's an easy ask but you somehow make it appear impossible. Just what do you not understand from our last Ad Hoc session? The reality you are seeking– ” Lisa continued, but this time Dottore interrupted her mid sentence. 

“ I don’t care what you had to say beyond Ad Hoc. Don’t you dare use your Akademiya experience to justify your opinions. That makes you no different than the scholars that choose to stay here. Isn’t being out in Mondsta– ” Dottore continued to say, but Lisa jerks you up. She uses the handful of hair to drag you to a standing position. You groan out in pain. You were surprised again by her strength, her fingers releasing your hair and placing themselves against your back. You start moving toward the Winery, doing your best to ignore whatever else Dottore was saying. You turn to Lisa, who then smiles pleasantly at you.

“ Are you listening to me, still? You should be. I’m just telling you the truth about that little knowledge complex of yours. Starving off your curiosity will only kill whatever potential you do have. ” Dottore was still chatting away, but Lisa seemed to ignore him. Or was it we were out of the radius needed for Lisa to gain signal?  You wait things out, scaling down the hilly area as you see The Traveler, Paimon, and your target in sight. You continue walking hand in hand with Lisa, feeling her grip strength. It was preventing you from getting to where you were going any faster. 

“ I’m not sure this is going anywhere but. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into this, Lisa. This is my burden to have, you don’t need to defend or haggle for my sake, ” you said, trying to give off a more innocent tone. You couldn’t let Lisa realize you were deep in leagues with them after all.

“There they are, slow pokes! Ooo, that looks yummy! How long until the meat’s done?” Paimon asked, stars in her eyes. You approach a picnic table decorated with a red and white cloth. A woven basket contains plates of what appears to be meat, eggs, and large pieces of bread layered. The smell was amazing. You wanted to dig in, but knew better than to be the first one to eat. Your eyes scan over Diluc, The Traveler, and Paimon as plates start to get filled. You hear the group start chatter regarding the weather, travels, and other exploits. You relax, glad not to hear any further rambling from The Doctor. You take a seat along the picnic table, The Traveler placing a plate of food in front of you. You smile, nodding to show your thanks. Once everyone has been served, you all get to eat. You admire the taste of the food, happy to get another meal in after the hike to the Winery.  You wonder if the food here was so hearty due to how far things were from one another. You pick at your food, observing the group's interactions and Diluc’s mannerisms. So far he matched his profile to a tee: charming, charismatic, kind, and blunt. You keep yourself occupied by eating, letting the others flow in conversation. Nothing of interest really sticks out until Lisa starts to speak up regarding your lodging. 

“Well, regarding our visit to you today. Mai here is in need of a place to stay while we investigate her origins. I notice Mona is out training in Fontaine for the majority of this year. Would it be possible for Mai to stay in that room you’ve reserved for Mona? My hope is we’ll be able to have a happy reunion in the coming weeks,” Lisa said. You watch Diluc’s face. He seemed unbothered by the request, raising a glass of grape juice to his lips.

“Ah, I see. Is this the person Jean warned me ahead of? Are we aware of how close the tie to the Fatui is?” Diluc asked, turning to you, “And what do you recall from your time with them?” You remain quiet for a moment, seeing if Dottore was still wired in.

“ Go on now, tell them! Tell them you’re one of my precious experiments. Such a proud inventor, I am, ” Dottore said, his tone too giddy for your liking. You roll your eyes at the thought, realizing too late it could come off as rude. You feel the picnic table shift, Diluc standing as he stares you down. You gulp, unsure of how to get out of this mess.

“She’s a bit foggy minded still, Diluc. She can only really recall her boyfriend,” Lisa said. Fuck–did she really have to drag Tartaglia into this? Diluc nods to you now, his eyes sizing up your body. You look away, worried–afraid of letting your guard down too much.

“ Ah, so  I assume things are going well. I am still able to make contact with you, or at least your body, ” Dottore said, cackling. Of course he felt comfortable now–he wasn’t in the midst of danger.

“A boyfriend still is a lead. What is his name?” Diluc asked. You look away, hugging yourself for comfort. Your only option was to be honest here. Or–what would happen? Lisa would call you out for being a liar. The Traveler would have a fair share of words, as Tartaglia and her have been in constant contact. You inhale sharply, nervous to give your target the answer. The answer itself may shift Diluc’s focus more on finding the particulars out on Tartaglia. 

“Isn’t information best for the source itself?” a familiar voice rang out. You hide the excitement on your face by covering it. This was not in the plan at all. Something about that makes you get excited, leg bouncing underneath the picnic table. You hear  surprised gasps across the table. Your boyfriend decided now of all places to look cool. He sat on a nearby picnic table, eating a vine full of grapes.

“What? Mai’s dating Tartaglia of all people?!?” Paimon screams out, a look of shock on her face. The Traveler appears taken aback too, crossing her arms. She seems not to fear him–no movement toward her sword at all. However, you see crimson flames in your vision as Diluc revs up his claymore. You gulp, crossing your arms in front of you. 

“Please, no fighting, please,” you beg, trying your best to control the situation. You hear Diluc groan, but eventually his Pyro vision flickers out. Tartaglia laughs at this, shaking his head.

“Wow, what a welcome. If under other circumstances, I would’ve taken you up on that offer to spar, Diluc. I’m only here to keep eyes on my girl,” Tartaglia said, nodding toward you. A scarlet blush spreads across your face. You try to look elsewhere, unsure of what to do.

“Hmm, if that’s true. Why don’t you take your girlfriend along to the hideout? Why stick her with us, hmm? I’m certain your organization has the funds to take care of her,” Lisa said, crossing her arms. Tartaglia laughs at those words, shrugging as he hops off the picnic table. Diluc remains cautious, his red eyes watching your boyfriend’s every move. You remain as still as possible.

“ Pearls, can I get a status? ” Dottore asked. I gulp, unsure of what to report. Telling on Tartaglia would surely get him punished. But, as he walked over to you, smiling, looking badass–you decided against it.

“ Pearls reporting in. Eating at Diluc’s Winery establishment. Will share more updates as they come, ” you report, stretching the truth. You watch as Tartaglia moves past Diluc, those red eyes still following him. Tartaglia stops short in front of you.

“Well. It’s safe to say things have grown far too complicated for that. Heh, fitting I find you here, Traveler. I was going to ask for another favor, similar to one I asked you in the past regarding some family,” Tartaglia said, The Traveler looking over your boyfriend with curious eyes. Paimon shakes her head at this, an upset look across her face.

“No, we are not your babysitter! Mai’s got a delusion and all these things could go wrong too?!? Why can’t you just get Fatui to take responsibility for their testing on your girlfriend? What kind of guy allows someone he loves to just get cut open!??”  Paimon screams out. That grating voice of hers was getting on your nerves. You huff, sighing. You shake your head at the situation. You feel Tartaglia’s hand gently massage your hair before bringing you into a close hug. Your arms loosely tie around Tartaglia, squeezing him a bit.

“Stop it, Paimon. Let him speak. We could arrange a deal of sorts. Back when I visited Sumeru, someone mentioned the topic of Descenders. Do you know anything about this at all,” The Traveler spoke, standing up and eying the two of you. You connect eyes with The Traveler briefly–before looking elsewhere. Diluc appears to hold a defensive stance, not fully trusting Tartaglia’s presence. 

“Ah, interesting. You are as sharp as ever. Listen–before I divulge anything regarding that. You need to make a promise to me. That Mai will be safe. That Mondstadt will treat her well until it’s safe for me to take her back home. Turns out organizations like these frown upon dating someone they don’t approve of. Then someone higher than me made the executive choice of testing on her. Thankfully the tests did not hurt her initially, I still have my doubts. The man in charge of those surgeries goes by Il Dottore,” Tartaglia explains, weaving together such a story you were starting to believe it as truth yourself. You nod toward those words, arms still loosely hanging around Tartaglia. You feel his arms scoop you up from your sitting position, his face diving in quickly to taste the food. 

“Mm, that’s some good brunch! You sure know how you feed a girl, Diluc,” Tartaglia adds, laughing some more. Diluc does not seem pleased at the scene at all. With his arms crossed along his chest, he glares back at Tartaglia. 

“Don’t push it,” Diluc responds, watching Tartaglia dive his face back into the food. You await for The Traveler’s decision. There is a pensive look across her face, her hand holding her chin. Paimon looks toward The Traveler, too. Lisa looks around, curious, but remains quiet. Her hands are neatly folded in her lap, making no movement towards a weapon. You hear something clattering in the distance, both you and Tartaglia peeking around the area.

“ What is this? We haven’t been able to communicate like this since the fall of Khaenri’ah. Well, hello there? Can someone tell me why this is happening? ” a soft, male voice spoke. You had no clue who it had been.

“ Venti? Is that you? ” Lisa asked. You get curious on who else is listening in now.

“ Yes, by the stars and against all odds–I have gained the communication of the Gods! This is proving more fruitful by the day,” Dottore said. You grab your head, feeling it pulsating. You hadn’t felt pain from the use of this before–until now. Whoever that first person that spoke must have forcibly started up communications again. You inhale sharply, again and again, to try and manage the pain.

“ I don’t know what’s happening. By chance–are you an Archon of sorts? Is there any way you can fix this? ” you asked, hoping that this Archon had ways of relieving the pain. Before you get an answer, you hear quick steps punctuated by a petite boy squeezing in between you and Lisa. He grabs what remains of your food and shoves forkfuls in his mouth.

“Ah, that’s the traveling bard that fancies good wine. Any reason why you’re now shoveling food in your mouth and present too?” Diluc asked, appearing visibly annoyed by the number of visitors he now had. 

“Oh, no reason other than to put off other duties of course! And, I’ll never miss a place with free food, drink, or entertainment.” Venti said, patting you along the back. You squeeze your head some more. You never felt such a great headache before. You start to pant, which causes Tartaglia to hold you closer.

“ Don’t worry, I know your true name and nature. I’ll make sure no one harms you. Innocent humans like you are just victims of exploits. But–to explain the headache–I may have gone a little too heavy on the wine last night, ” Venti said. You grumble. Did that mean other people’s physical states were starting to impact yours now? You groan aloud, wanting so badly for the pain to stop. Your arms stay wrapped around Tartaglia as Venti finishes your plate.

“What a lovely day this is turning out to be,” Lisa said, laughing. Was she seriously laughing at the worst pain you had ever felt? You continue to grumble, Tartaglia continuing to hold your body. You feel light headed. Like the new voice was somehow overriding any and all other voices present. 

“ I can sense your power, you know. It worries me since unchecked powers like yours have not existed for hundreds of years. I wouldn’t doubt Fatui's hands were all over this design. ” Venti asked. You nod along, feeling queasy. Tartaglia simply holds you in his hands, The Traveler still mulling over the current events.

“So, should you choose to accept taking on my favor, all I ask is to keep an eye on Mai. There’s a group invested in her destruction and I’d hate to hog all the combat for myself. Once things blow over about our little coupling, we’ll be safe to return to the stronghold,” Tartaglia said, lacing his fingers with yours. A red blush comes back, his lips colliding with yours. You are nervous to kiss him in front of company, but you choose against being stubborn. His lips felt buttery along yours, opening to reveal his tongue. You two explore each other's mouth for a bit, ignoring Paimon’s calls for you two to stop.

“Yuck, quit, stop it! We get that things are hard for you now. But you don’t understand, we’re in the middle of a–” Paimon spoke, but her words are cut off. The Traveler pulls at Paimon, shaking their head vigorously. 

“Uh, I mean, wait! We are not busy at all. In fact, we aren’t doing anything at all,” Paimon said, backtracking. You figure she was going to spill the beans on the Hydro gnosis location. Tartaglia pulls away from your mouth, grinning at the company you two were keeping. 

“Great, so that means you’ll accept my request right?” Tartaglia said, reaching into his pocket. Soon a large coin purse is revealed, filled to the brim with Mora. This catches Paimon’s eyes, looking at the pile of coins as if they were food. 

“Here’s some funds to cover her expenses while she’s stationed here. It should be more than enough to cover housing and such. Hopefully your landlord won’t be too nosy if I decide to stop by,” Tartaglia said, winking over to Diluc. You hear a groan leave Diluc’s mouth, shaking his head.

“Perhaps it will be harmless, Diluc. In either option, I would find myself comfortable supervising their visits,” Lisa suggests. You shake your head at the librarian, trying to explain that it would not be needed. 

“Oh, so now it’s changed from letting the girl stay in my bar to hosting a Fatui encampment. This day never fails to surprise me,” Diluc said, “In the worst of ways.” 

“Come on, it could be seen as a chance to bond and see this dude from a different light. I’m not too well versed in Fatui actions–but–I’m not afraid of them! They stole the one thing they could from me. I don’t know much besides what was said here, but, hey! Imagine it; you’re saving some poor helpless girl from organizations trying to use her for the wrong reasons. Besides, what could go wrong?” Venti said, taking a sip of wine from a bottle he grabbed from nowhere. You let out a loud exhale, gripping your forehead.

“ Putting you here was the smartest idea, despite who was behind this. I just suggest you don’t use that power of yours. The Abyssal Order may do to you what they once did to a good friend of mine ” Venti said, seeming to expand on what he said aloud.

“It seems we have reached an agreement. Though–for the sake of Mai’s safety–let’s not mention Tartaglia for now. The Knights of Favonius would certainly keep her behind bars due to her association. And as the romantic I am, I would never tear two lovers from another,” Lisa said, raising to her feet. Tartaglia places you beside The Traveler, Paimon flying away slightly to avoid getting hit. You let go of your head, groining. It sucks to feel so foggy in the head. It was all that damned Archons fault–and he made no attempts of shying away from that fact.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be coming in and out quietly. I’m not here to make a stir–rather, quite the opposite. My girlfriend’s got some potent R&D running through her veins–her dying in Mondstadt would effectively cause chaos. Well–not just from me–but from those most interested in her development. I’m sure The Traveler’s aware of just who too,” Tartaglia explained, stretching as he began to walk off. You shake your head at this, wishing he was more affectionate when it counted. You rush over to him, giving him a final hug before he goes off too far. He grins at this, giving you another deep, loving kiss before running along. You turn to see another pensive face on The Traveler’s face, seeming to walk back toward the city.

“ You will lose contact with me when you return to Mondstat. Sadly the statue there isn’t strong enough in elemental resonance for me to channel communication this way. But, I guess it could be good for that headache of yours! For more information about this power Fatui has pinned on you, please visit the Church. I will see to it to explain things a bit clearer. Just–don’t bring that boyfriend of yours. Not trying to steal you away or what have you, but that information could prove deadly in Fatui hands. I’m taking a risk even telling you–with the full understanding you could betray me. But it’s the risk I’ll take to protect Teyvet. ” Venti explained, that pounding headache coming back to you. You resist the urge to pass out. You hold onto The Traveler beside you for help walking. This was a lot to handle at once. You hadn’t a clue who could hear the inside of your head and who couldn’t. You simply nod along, the group gathering to depart. You watch Tartaglia’s figure disappear off into the distance, off to go elsewhere. 

“ Status report, Pearls. Please confirm The Traveler’s current position at once,” Sandrone demands. You gulp, knowing full well that Lisa would be listening in. You had to keep going at the innocent angle, otherwise a battle would ensue. 

“ I am leaving Dawn Winery with The Traveler, Paimon, and Lisa. ” you explained. You had to keep things a bit simpler until the connection phased out for the librarian. One thing you had not expected, however, was Lisa’s hand returning into yours.

“ No matter how badly you desire the final Gnoses, you will not find it this way. Nor will risking this woman’s life do that either. But I’ll happily cut the middle man out and risk her life myself..? ” Lisa said. The smile on her face now betrays such a cruel and merciless stance she was taking. You hold onto Lisa’s hand for dear life, struggling to retain your poker face for the other folks. Just as the four of you begin exiting the Winery, you hear quickened feet behind you. You turn to see Diluc rushing to catch up with you, swearing under his breath. You notice a few servants cleaning up where you had lunch earlier. Your legs felt awfully achy from the hiking you did already. Without another word, you feel Diluc picks you up. You are nervous to let out a scream, afraid that will draw Tartaglia’s attention to you negatively. You instead gasp, arms holding tight against Diluc. 

“I noticed the pain in your legs since you first got here. I’ll carry you the rest of the way. Hopefully–knowing your idiot boyfriend–we’ll be free from most monsters,” Diluc said, grumbling. You get the sense that Diluc is more grumpy than anything, soft fingers feeling up against his hardened muscles. You begin to wonder if this is what adventurers felt like when they trained for more than two weeks, or perhaps even their entire life? You remain quiet, listening to the banter going on between them all. You do pick up on the lack of a reply from Dottore, or anyone really. You do hope that Lisa’s words were simply an act to see how far the others would go to retrieve you. But, just as you relax against Diluc’s back, you feel a strange memory come back to you. Were you finally going to remember that ice fishing memory Tartaglia kept asking about? Before you could muster up any strength to fight passing out, Diluc’s careful and quick pace lulls you to sleep.

Chapter Text

CH.15

The winds surrounding you are blustery. Your hands wrap around your knees, holding on for warmth. You hear your father joking about the cold. You hear another, older man chime in now.

“Sheesh! You remember us, back in our prime days. We’d be their age catching the fish! While our parents, gone, trying to figure out sleeping arrangements, water–the shit Snezhnaya expects of worthy residents. Really hope our young-ins get on their feet quickly. What do you think, Cam?” the old voice said. You start to see the other older gentleman’s figure a bit more. Long, braided brown hair. Dull blue eyes match your father’s, save the only difference is in his red hair. You remain beside your father as you make your way out toward the fish icing location. Your father’s friend also had a son close to your age. He appears standoffish, face barely peeking out from his windbreaker. His hair appears lighter than his father’s, with his eyes brimming with that azure brightness. You use both of your free hands to hold onto the sled securely. You find it cool that your father was finally allowing you to fish now. It was a downer that you had to wait for the other neighborhood kid to be ready–but it was a sacrifice worth making. Your father often showed you the most bizarre fish to catch when ice fishing. You grow more excited as the ox drawn sled comes to a halt. Your father puts a protective hand along your back as the sled itself steadies itself.

“Alright kids, time for work!” your father exclaims, handing you an ice pick. You are then promptly lifted and placed right along the ice. You move slowly, careful, waiting for further instruction on where to start picking at the ice. You hear the other boy’s noisy screams as he’s placed down. He immediately takes a sitting position, placing the ice pick down on the ground. You shake your head, laughing at the boy.

“How are we going to catch fish if you just want to sit on the ice all day?” you asked, gesturing toward the smaller boy. You note how he turns away from you and crosses his arms. You laugh at this response, the other two men joining. 

“Now, Ajax. We’re out today to get food. Not feel the ice directly on our butts,” the other male said between laughing bouts, “Can we get you to stand up?” There’s a silence that comes in after. The adults and yourself stare at the boy. He doesn’t make any sudden moves. In fact–did he…fall asleep? You laugh at what you see right now, the adults joining in with snickering.

“Now I sure wish [REDACTED] was here.”

—

You wake up to the sudden sound of screams. Your eyes open to try and find where the scream came from. You fail to find the source, still not back in the city’s walls. Trees surround you, edge to edge, covered with shrubbery. There is a sense you get regarding the others. Perhaps some monsters were attacking the rest of the group? You come to a slow stand, trying to see any nearby action in the area. Nothing. Just long stretches of forest and a bunch of camping gear. You take a quick trip around the campsite. Tents are set up not too far from you. A sleeping bag rests where you once were. A dead fire is a few feet away from it all, too. You sniff at the air, trying to get a gauge for how long it’s been since it was last lit.

“Ah, so you’ve awakened from your nap. I can’t blame you, not too many girls would pass on the chance of riding on Diluc’s back,” Lisa said, her figure weaving through the trees back to where you were. You wave the librarian over, unsure of what to expect. You ask why you aren’t back at the city yet and why you were stationed out in the woods still.

“Cutie and Diluc decided to chat for a bit. Paimon thought that meant Diluc would also make dinner. An argument ensued. And now we’re in the forest, with no clear direction,” Lisa said. With you now being caught up on the latest, decide to relax. Lisa joins you by your side, taking a seat on the sleeping bag with you. You try to think of other questions to ask her in this rare bit of alone time you two are sharing.

“Glad to see you’re awake, fine, not injured. Or appear much older,” Lisa comments, letting out a chuckle. You shake your head, laughing before feeling those librarian’s lips again. This time she was licking against your neck, causing heat to build hot against where her lips were. You find yourself struggling to focus, hoping not to get knocked out like before. You follow through with keeping your eyes open as Lisa continues to suckle on your neck. The heat was getting to you. You want to cry out, beg for something else, but…it was odd. You don’t recall this feeling so good when Sir did it–nor Tartaglia for that matter? You fear for a bit that it’s more of that strange witch magic she casted on you earlier. You feel your face flush with a blush, unable to say or do much else. 

You hear Lisa’s lips leave your neck. Before your eyes can inspect the damage done, her lips plant against yours. You keep your eyes open, alert, while your mouth is attacked head on. Lisa’s tongue feels great. Her saliva coats the entirety of your mouth, those brown curls grazing against your skin. Your fingers move and touch the softness that is known as Lisa. Her skin feels much softer than you ever felt before. Your fingers draw circles, pressure building between each circle drawn.

“Mmm, as always, that bit of resistance,” Lisa mutters against your lips. Lisa’s hands move along your frame with a quickness and ease that make your nipples harden. You try turning away from the librarian, but feel her arms secure your body where it is. The strength behind each finger tip amazes you, feeling her lips bite away at yours. You don’t feel that blush on your face falter at all.

“B-But…” you reply, knowing full well what Tartaglia may do regarding the scene playing out. You feel soft lips contain any other noises that struggle to leave your lips. Her arms pull at your clothes, slipping each garment off with ease. What was this feeling overcoming you? Your eyes  strain across the horizon, looking for your boyfriend. Lisa continues leaving gentle kisses along your lips, her arms tight along your waist. You feel her lips leave yours for a moment, those green eyes calculating every curve on your body. 

“Shhh. Wouldn’t want to wake the others, would you?” Lisa said. You notice a cheeky smile along Lisa’s face. You shake your head, gulping. Really, she was more aware of them than the potential of a Fatui catching them with their girl?

“What if he’s following?” you whisper, still very much blushing and anxious.

“So what if he does..? From my records, Tartaglia has not bested The Traveler in combat once. And he’s one that will only allow for a fair fight,” Lisa replied. One of the hands being used to hold you snakes its way up. Those soft, gentle hands glide where your dress used to be. You see Lisa smile at the sight of your nipples, moving forward as she pulls down on the left one. You hear the static from your communication, but want to stop it. You remain still, not wanting Lisa to get any further ideas. Your lips tremble as delicate fingers dance along them. Your eyes focus down at those fingers as they continue to dance.

“So–” you said, trying to keep the conversation going. But you feel something soft enter your mouth. Your eyes now focus along the fingers stuffed in your throat. Lisa lets out a chuckle, her eyes likely noticing how hard your nipples were getting. What if Lisa was into that BDSM stuff Sir explained? 

You try to speak but feel the fingers wiggling in your mouth prevent sound from transmitting well. Lisa laughs as you continue to try speaking.

“Listen, sweetie, I am not afraid of that one. Or many of the others that decided to be in leagues with Dottore. What I do find fruitful, though, is your reactions,” Lisa whispers to you, those fingers of hers shoving deeper down your throat. You gurgle, trying so hard to muster words. 

“ Currently being interrogated by the one known as Lisa the Librarian, advice needed, ” I said, hoping that nipple pull would prove helpful to some capacity. You listen out for any help but hear nothing but silence. Lisa slowly pulls the fingers from your mouth, the saliva lining each finger thick. Lisa brings the saliva up to her own mouth, sucking down on each one.

“ Doctor, reporting in. Looks more like someone’s about to get laid, ” Dottore said. Wait–just how close was Dottore to this? You try not to make it too obvious what’s going on, remaining quiet.

“ Getting laid is much better than sharing our secrets. Carry on. ” Sir said, seeming to be in better spirits than expected. Did anyone in this organization plan to give you any useful intel?

“ Well, for what it’s worth, Dottore will be keeping a close eye to ensure the situation will not escalate out of hand. ” Sandrone said. Well, it appeared you were squarely stuck in the situation. You let out a breathy sigh, trying to find something else other than Lisa to focus on. You feel those familiar soft hands along your neck, your face pressing against Lisa’s. You kiss back this time, with that same passion, love, care. Those lips kissing you tasted like a rare delicacy. You melt as you feel Lisa continue playing with your nipples, pulling and pressing into them with a precise strength. You found yourself panting, soft moans revealing themselves the more you leaned into kissing. Soon enough, your fingers were gently tugging along those clothes along Lisa’s figure.

First to come off were those silky, semi-transparent garters. As you moved down, you were confused by such intricate clothing. You begin with what appears to be a clicking mechanism with the socks. You click all of the small clippers you were able to find. And, with each clip coming off, you laid it against the grass. Once that was dealt with, you slid off each panty house with little issue. 

Next was to figure out the strange dress/shirt situation. You were unable to locate much in terms of a zipper or button. You notice Lisa moving her hands over her head, nodding with a smile. You move your hands to first remove her hat, revealing more brown locks cascading across her face. You place down the hat before pulling the remainder of clothes off of Lisa. 

You feel her arms grab at you again once she is fully nude. Lisa’s lips came next, those soft objects occupying your thoughts. Those kisses were starting to grow into something more, hands deftly pulling along your own hair. You let out a groan in your kiss, feeling the librarian pull at your hair harder. You groan even more at this, legs squeezing at the sensation. Lisa seems most intrigued by this, continuing on with her increasing strength. You moan out, a bit louder each time, you feel your hair get pulled. Lisa doesn’t tell you to quiet down now.

“Mmm,” Lisa moans into your kiss, pulling back only to leave a trail of sloppy, saliva-laced kisses across your face. The red on your face remains, nipples hard, body fully turned on by the woman before you. Your arms rest along Lisa’s shoulders, looking up at those bright green eyes. Lisa straddles your lap, those arms wrapping right along your shoulders. 

It doesn’t take long until you are making out with Lisa again, feeling that tongue rub and scrap itself all over your mouth. You do much the same, hands awkwardly holding Lisa on either side of her body. After each passionate exchange of kisses, the librarian leers back before leaving messier kisses along your neck. And there it was–your true weakness–your neck. Without Lisa’s mouth, you were prone to release a variety of noises that could wake the folks around you.

“ Wow, aren’t you jealous of this, Pantalone? I get to see your women get fucked by my old fire, ” Dottore comments, but you do your best to shove the thought out of your mind.

“ Apologies, but I am far too busy making sure your trips are being paid for, ” Sir said, seeming annoyed by Dottore’s comment. You are brought back to your reality again with the tight pulls from Lisa. The metal creates a stinging sensation along both of your nipples. You let out screams this time, panting aloud, nervous. What would become of you if you were found like this–compromised and coated in cum and saliva?

“I-I can’t my boyfriend–and uh,” you try to reason, but Lisa’s lips were convincing without saying another word. Her lips come back to your mouth, sucking your lips, tongue, teeth–anything her mouth can get onto. You continue to moan out, still nervous, knowing someone was likely watching the two of you.

Lisa’s lips keep your voice awfully muffled. You continue your attempts at protest but fail more each time, feeling your back approach the ground below you. The moment your back connects with the grassy foliage below–those lips on your body double. Your eyes find the source of the other lips unsurprising. Dottore’s light blue hair shows just barely in view, leaving rough kisses along your breasts.

“Heh, odd isn’t it, how your repulsion is attracted to me. Like a moth, willing–” Dottore said, but you hear a couple of soft knee kicks. Dottore becomes much less poetic and more fluid with his lip movements along your breast. You had no clue how dangerous this was, for everyone involved. The heat in your stomach grows the more you think of the implications. 

“Hmm? So strange, I’ve taken the wrong turn entirely and ended up elsewhere. Windrise area, I take it?” Kaeya’s voice echoes from the original quiet. Your body tenses up but the two on top of you don’t seem to be ready to stop at all. Fuck–what would any of this mean to anyone? 

You were close to making a dash for it before Dottore pressed his entire body against yours, leaving rough, blood drawing bites on your shoulder. Your yelps are muted by Lisa’s own mouth, her arms securely pushing you, Dottore, and herself lower to avoid being sighted. 

There is tense silence afterward. You keep your eyes alert for the slightest movement you see. The trees that surround you make you feel more shaded, but that didn’t shake how close Kaeya’s voice was. With how rough handed he was with you in town–what would he do if he found Dottore here? You sure enough see Kaeya peek close to where you, Lisa, and Dottore had been. You gasp, followed by Kaeya’s loud cackling. 

“Hmm–having a bit of a camping experience aren’t we?” Kaeya said, kneeling down to join the rest of you, “Well, perhaps my wandering led me here for a reason, hmmm?” You hear Dottore grumble. Lisa doesn’t have much of a reaction, simply pulling at your nipples once more. You release a groan, blushing, feeling all sorts of strange about the  chain of events.  You start to entertain the thought of it all being some strange sex dream. Dottore looks back over to Kaeya with an annoyed glare.

“What is this nonsense? Go away at once, you pest!” Dottore speaks up, his grumbling punctuating his annoyed tone and words. Kaeya does just the opposite, leaning in as he observes the mask-laden Harbinger.

“Hmm, quite cute. No wonder our librarian is naked before you. Let’s see how you taste,” Kaeya said, leaning forward to press his lips against Dottore’s. You watch in curiosity. Dottore does not stop Kaeya’s incoming kiss. You see Dottore lean into it, wrapping his gloved arms around the other. The two awkwardly shuffle off of you and Lisa.

“Ngh–disgusting one, you are. But manageable,” Dottore mutters against Kaeya’s lips. Your eyes grow wide as you see the tables turn with little time. Dottore’s arms appear stronger than Kaeya’s, much stronger. You watch as Dottore pins down Kaeya, those lips crashing into the other’s once again. Lisa demands your attention again, her lips and teeth biting down along your neck. You let out a groan, embarrassed that Kaeya got to hear it. Your eyes fail to concentrate enough to see what Dottore has made of Kaeya so far.

The way Lisa knew exactly how to move her tongue was amazing. At this angle, you were lying, back flat against the cool grass, her tongue making you unable to focus. Her tongue moved  against your clit so fast, you were beginning to worry about waking up actual people. Your eyes struggle to drift toward Dottore and Kaeya. From what you could see, Dottore was leaving plentiful bites, making Kaeya nearly as loud as you. It didn’t take The Doctor long before Kaeya was naked, scar ridden, and loud.

“Oh, keep him quiet would you? Would hate to have more people show up to this gathering,” Lisa said, her body turning to speak to Dottore. You, feeling in the brattier mood, use your foot to try and gain the librarian’s attention. You raise your foot, trying to get a fistful of her hair in between your toes. This fails miserably, Lisa making it easy as she pushes your foot to the ground. She returns on top of you, covering you in sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss.

“Nnnh, like that girl isn’t as loud as, forget it. Fine,” Dottore said, seeming to stop himself before he earned some more knees to the groin. You watch as Dottore  firmly cover Kaeya’s loud whimpers with one hand. Dottore’s other hand proceeds to lay down a series, hard spanks. The way they connected to Kaeya’s bare ass, the way he struggled against his grip, the tears–it all felt quite lovely to watch. Usually you were in Kaeya’s spot. While you did miss the spot of pain Dottore knew how to deliver–there was a different pleased sensation coming over you. 

Lisa continues to dress your face with kisses, ending the makeout session with her own fingers going into your groin. You feel those delicate fingers from before cupping your mouth. Loud, stammered moans are muffled by Lisa’s hand. You were unsure of what to do with yourself, reaching for Lisa’s breast. Once you make contact with them, you give each a pleased squeeze. The bright blush showing on Lisa’s face was cute. You continue massaging the librarian’s breast, starting to hear some soft, vulnerable moans. 

“Mmmm, what an active one you’ve turned into,” Lisa purrs into your ear.  Your fingers start to pull at her nipples. They were hard, but still quite flexible. You shove them in one direction, hearing Lisa hitch her breathing before pressing her lips against yours. You groan into that kiss, still massaging those massive breasts. 

Meanwhile, you could make out the groans and moans from the men a few feet away. Your eyes catch Kaeya’s lips securely along Dottore’s cock, slurping it up with vigor. Dottore gave thoughtful head pats to Kaeya, nodding along and giving the other instructions on how to suck better. You begin to wonder if the world around you was always this sexual–or were you just experiencing the horniest parts of it all?

You are brought back to your reality as Lisa moves her fingers along your pussy quicker, pinching where your clit was. You scream out, Lisa giggling into your moan. Your mouths are together still, likely to keep your moans from ringing out into the Mondstadt countryside. You start to squirm the more Lisa allows her fingers to roam around your pussy, paying close attention to your clit. You were sensitive there, which made the experience even greater. 

Your eyes wander for a moment back to the boy’s, seeing Dottore empty his cock all over Kaeya’s face. You smile before your mouth twists into a series of increasingly loud, orgasm moans. You feel yourself twitch wildly before squirting along Lisa’s fingers, and anything in that general direction.

“Good girl, very good,” Lisa muses, leaning over to plant several kisses along your face. You blush at those words, slowly nodding as the librarian makes quick work of cleaning you up. Her head pops back down to your groin, where you feel her tongue begin lapping up any and all juices remaining along your pussy. You start to scream out, but Lisa’s other hand presses against your lips hard. You continue to moan out, loud, the sensation of pleasure too great for you to remain quiet. You hear the men finish up after having gone multiple rounds. All you hear is hagged breathing. The cold air and grass make the perfect sleeping conditions, Lisa wrapping her arms around you securely. You feel her shift and get behind you, letting out a pleased yawn.

“Well, that was an experience I certainly won’t forget,” Kaeya said, “May I get your name?” 

“Calm it sweet cheeks. This was a one time thing. That may happen in the future, if conditions look alright. Wait a minute. What’s your name then, bluey?” Dottore asked, his tone showing his annoyance. I looked over to observe the situation at hand. Dottore had his arms wrapped around Kaeya securely, though Kaeya was looking off elsewhere.

“Hmph. Quite a rude one, you are. Answering a question with a question is supposed to be my handiwork. But, since I feel nice, Kaeya’s the name,” Kaeya replied, seeming to roll his eyes at Dottore’s attitude. 

“Kaeya huh? Funny name. Well, have a goodnight. Leave whenever,” Dottore said, yawning, “Don’t expect breakfast.” 

“Well, that just makes me want to stay and make you all breakfast. Consider it a token of appreciation from me for letting me crash your camping trip,” Kaeya said, seeming insistent on paying us back. So long as Dottore was able to go by a cover name, I think we may be able to get away with this. Whatever this was becoming.

“Bottom,” Dottore grumbles. You hear the group all laugh at that, with the evident inclusion of Kaeya.  

“Haha, a jokester too it seems. We should get along quite nicely,” Kaeya said, yawning too before seeming to drift to bed. You close your eyes, too. If this was a sign of how chaotic things were to come, you had to be ready for anything. And, in this case, that also meant Dottore sneaking around and fucking people in Mondstadt.

Chapter Text

“Hey there, it’s morning. Time to return to the city. While I do miss my camping days, nothing beats a cup of hot tea in the morning,” Lisa said, waking you from your slumber. Your arms are neatly wrapped around the older woman. Her green eyes look over you with softness. That brings a smile to your lips, keeping that grip around the librarian strong. Your eyes wander to where Kaeya and Dottore were last night. You see the latter still snoozing away as Kaeya tends to a fire of sewkeres.  Kaeya seems focused on getting the food just right, a few yards away so as to not disturb you or Dottore.

“Ah, another person waking up to the smell of my amazing skewers. You should get dressed soon–won’t be long until the usual hunters or adventurers take a stroll through here,” Kaeya said, shrugging, “Or just be appropriate. Don’t want any rumors spreading about the Captain of the calvary, you know.” With the sun in the air, you are able to find your clothes with ease. You wipe down with some clean water provided by a nearby stream, along with washing your hair some. As you pull on your clothes, you find yourself eavesdropping on a conversation between Kaeya and Lisa.

“So does someone of your status always enjoy crashing campsites?” Lisa asked, her tone more playful than critical. You could hear Kaeya hesitate before responding, a hearty chuckle leaving his mouth.

“Well, honestly, no. I do find some campers while I do my expeditions of the nearby areas. I get the feeling I won’t find anything as special as I found last night,” Kaeya said, his eyes moving between the crackling fire and Dottore’s resting face. You struggle to keep your laughs to yourself, Lisa deciding to laugh immediately. A hand rests over her face, her hat and outfit returned to her body as well. You smile as you finish fixing up your outfit from the other day, stretching with a yawn. 

“Ah, what a lovely night it was. Just–please don’t tell the others about this. I rather keep my camping hobby more secretive,” Lisa said, placing an arm on you, “Besides, who could say no when a cutie asks you to go camping with another?” You feel your face warm at the librarian’s comments.  You try to look elsewhere but your nose is guided to the fire. There’s a sweet smell coming from the food. Mushrooms, chicken, and a few other vegetables cook away. Dottore comfortably rests some distance away from the fire.

“No worries. Much to my surprise, your hobbies are just as unpredictable as you, Lisa. Smell that sweetness, Mai? It’s due to the marinade. No fruit at all, just the wonderful work of white wine,” Kaeya explained, smelling the skewers as he looked at them with a certain longing. You watch as Dottore yawns awake, his nose sniffing the air around him.

“Wow, that cunt’s really serious about that whole breakfast thing?” Dottore said, his eyes greeting Kaeya’s presence with annoyance. Lisa laughs at that reaction, shaking her head. Kaeya seems the least bothered, simply moving each skewer so all sides are cooked evenly. Despite Dottore’s annoyance, you knew the man did enjoy a good meal. You continue to watch their interactions, hopeful.

“I’d like to express my gratitude somehow. Especially with how secretive our little librarian tends to be, we need to try and get some of her visitors to stay,” Kaeya adds, turning to Dottore with a smile, “Sometimes learn their names too.”

“No thank you. I’ll be taking the breakfast and leaving, you poor excuse for a romantic,” Dottore said. A smirk spreads across Kaeya’s face. 

“So stubborn. But there’s something to that attitude I like,” Kaeya said, turning to Dottore with a wink. Dottore scoffs at Kaeya, turning away with a yawn. Dottore preoccupied himself with grooming his hair, as well as slipping on his clothing. 

“Seems like you two are getting on just fine,” Lisa comments with a laugh. The two turn to her with a mutual sense of dislike, before returning to their activities. You keep your seat besides Lisa, relaxing as Dottore gets dressed. You wonder how close your boyfriend was and if he knew what Dottore had plotted. You wonder if Sir influenced his decision, too. You keep a smile on your face, watching the two males before you.

“I believe there’s a future for us, no?” Kaeya said, his eyes moving right back toward Dottore. With his full outfit back on, mask adjusting, Dottore grumbles.

“Ugh, and this is why I cannot do cities anymore. You city folk just see meeting new people as commonplace. I rather a more quiet scenery,” Dottore said, clicking his tongue as he finished readjusting his mask. Kaeya’s eyes seem interested in this, pulling a metal skewer from the ground below. Kaeya pops a squat right next to Dottore, offering the skewer to him. You see an annoyance take over Dottore’s face once more, his gloved hand snatching the skewer and immediately biting into it. You watch as a pleased look comes over Dottore’s face. It stays just a moment, long enough to show it happened. Short enough for Dottore to downplay.

“Meat’s alright. Could’ve used a bit more pepper. Eh. Typical camp food,” Dottore muses, biting down on the skewer. Just as Dottore attempts to stand, you see Kaeya stretch and rest an arm along The Doctor’s shoulder. You struggle to keep your laughter controlled under your hand. Dottore’s face appeared irritated beyond all belief. But you notice The Doctor does not move an inch. You quickly surmise that it’s to not come off as too aggressive or at least non confrontational. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment from a tough customer. Mai, Lisa, please indulge yourselves. I believe there’s a new dish in Mondstadt I’d love to have again,” Kaeya said, attempting to lean into Dottore. You note Dottore grumble, moving the skewer some to make room for Kaeya’s kiss. You smile, watching the two share a series of short kisses before Dottore returns to his meal. Wasting no time, you raise to your feet and pluck some of the skewers from the ground. You grab two, one for yourself and another for Lisa. As you return to your prior spot, you hand Lisa her’s. She accepts it with a smile, taking small bites as you discuss what today will be like.

“Well Diluc found out he needed some new supplies for what will be your room. Cutie decided to pinch in, get a few more of those Adventurer points in for the day.  I think they said the room will be ready sometime in the early afternoon. How about after we pack up camp, we head there to check on the status?” Lisa asked. You nod, smiling. It had been a while since you had a moment to yourself. Reporting to your other direct reports would be good to do then. You finish eating quickly, wanting some alone time real bad. Your eyes see quite the sight when you turn to view Kaeya and Dottore again.

The two are locked in an intense makeout session. Dottore’s hands were gripping at Kaeya’s short, blue hair. Kaeya’s lips remained stuck on Dottore’s. Their clothing had already been half gone yet again. Lisa and you shake your head at the two, but decide not to judge too harshly given yesterday’s festivities. 

“Can I trust you two to finish packing up camp while I take Mai away?” Lisa said, facing the two men. Neither answer as each grunt into the other's mouth, hands all over the other. Lisa and you exchange knowing glances before shrugging. The two of you take time to pack all items of yours. You make sure the last of yours you touch is your vision. You pocket it in a secure place along your waist. 

You take one last look at your colleague sharing spit with one of your enemies. This was your first sign of seeing something as what it was, nothing more or less. You nod to them both before walking back on the trail to Mondstadt. You explore the many twists and turns of the plains until you see a familiar cobble stoned wall in the distance. You must have been a couple of hours away from Kaeya and Dottore by now. Lisa continues to walk onward, smiling, seeming to enjoy the hike. You figure now would be another good time to ask questions. 

“Well, those two will surely be acquainted,” Lisa mutters, “Let’s just hope Kaeya doesn’t get too antsy about a name.” You nod to those words, traversing through the trees and plains with the librarian.

“Well, it seems like you and Do–uh–hm. Guess I’ll call him Dot. You and Dot tend to camp as an excuse to hang out then, right?” you ask, hoping to catch the librarian off guard.

“Hm, I wouldn’t call it an excuse. Most times it’s just an old ex knowing my habits too well and barging in on a supposedly relaxing experience. Typically by the end of the night we tire each other out with our own scientific projects,” Lisa said, her eyes straining at the city ahead of us, “I rather not endanger an entire region for someone's obsessive preferences. Like I said, I’m not afraid of that Dot or anyone who he chooses to team up with. I am only concerned for Mondstadt’s safety.” You continue to nod along, finding all of this intel useful. From the sounds of it, Dottore had already firmly planted himself here as a spy long ago. Which made his appearance less of a shock to Lisa. Still, Dottore had to be careful; Kaeya held a high position within the Knights of Favonius.

“So it’s not within Mondstadt’s safety for you to report that guy’s appearance then? Based on how hard you kicked him in the groin, I thought we were careening to a battle,” you said. Lisa remains quiet for a moment, still moving forward toward the walls of Mondstandt. But her lack of an answer showed some of the foundational cracks needed for you to make the mission successful. You found your crack into Mondstadt’s politics–now time to widen it.

“It’s okay though, I understand how complicated things get. I’m dating Ajax myself. It’s such a shame my boytoy has such an affliction to spar with The Traveler so much,” you continue on, hoping to eventually crack Lisa open some more. The two of you walk along the cobble stoned bridge. You look forward and see nothing much has changed since the last time you entered the city. You give a knowing nod to both of the guards on watch as you pass through, each giving their own greeting to Lisa. Instead of walking up the stairs, Lisa takes a right the moment you enter the gates. This catches you off guard but you continue to follow the librarian. There had been brief mention of taking you to your new home in the early afternoon. Besides–what could some more sightseeing hurt? The cobble stone path twists and turns before you are brought to a tavern. The outside has a large poster board listing all the different events going on. To its left, was a small staircase that led to another entrance. To the right was another door, likely the entrance to the venue. 

“Here you are, Mai. Diluc and Cutie should be here any moment. Getting ready to open her up,” a brown haired man said. There’s a ruggedness about him that leads you to believe he’s a bartender. From the semi stained towel hanging out of pockets–to his generally warm personality. You nod, bowing to the man before you. You move your eyes to get a new gauge on Lisa’s mood. Odd–she got quiet the moment you brought up Dottore. You knew the man had his quirks. Did his quirks somehow mesh with Lisa’s?

“Thank you Lisa! If you wouldn’t mind–can we have another chat someday? Maybe sometimes in the early morning, you know what you said. You enjoy a good cup of tea in the morning. So why not–” you said, finding yourself selling it too hard. Lisa simply pats her hand along your head, a soft smile along her face. 

“Perhaps someday. But my job lately has become busier these days. It may not be for a few weeks, or maybe, some months. Surely your boyfriend will have things sorted out by then too,” Lisa explained, seeming to take a half step back each word. You watch as those green eyes appear happy, filled with glee–but you could smell it. You could smell something sinister resting not too far from her. You keep your eyes on Lisa. You watch as she takes a few turns, seeming to head off into another direction. Wow–she shut you out of the conversation for sure! You shake your head, waving as Lisa leaves your view. 

“Great, you’re here! Strange Lisa left so early. Didn’t expect her to leave you here,” Paimon said, that small creature flying right up to your face. You struggle to keep a smile on your face. The small fairy was quite the annoyance. You find yourself wondering how Tartaglia managed to deal with her so much before feeling a strong grip along your shoulder. Your eyes move up to see Diluc’s calm expression. You try to bow, but feel the grip along your shoulder tighten.

“Hmm. I take it that Lisa had some other duties to tend to. Especially since she was kind enough to take on our favor. Mai, I’ve taken a few precautions given the uniqueness of your situation. First, I have placed you in a side room. There will only be one way to enter and exit due to the spell sigil on one side. Mona broke it once before, but some months ago reports of it returning were proven correct. That should help with efforts of keeping any unwanted visitors out. Second, there has been some evidence coming up regarding those people your boyfriend mentioned. The Traveler has graciously offered to take care of that group and afterwards chat with you and him. To be clear, any slight movement out of place and I will not hesitate against him. Last–but please keep this in mind–you’re living in a tavern. It’ll be loud. Somedays it’ll be unsleepable. But. Please enjoy your stay,” Diluc explained, The Traveler and Paimon nodding to show agreement. You turn to make eye contact with Diluc. You try to read his expression–but it’s still as neutral as before. 

“Thank you so much for this. I can’t help but feel in debt to you. Is there anything I can do?” you said, trying to show good faith. You were grateful again for Diluc–being mindful of the public setting and not mentioning Tartaglia by name. But the difficult part would officially begin now. How were you ever going to get back to those documents? And–with Lisa on the defensive–did that mean staying low would be best? You had to get in contact with them, soon.

“No worries! If anything, just share a drink with us! We wanna ask you some more questions too. Diluc–did you still need any help moving new juices into Angel’s Share?” Paimon asked, The Traveler gesturing toward Paimon. Diluc thinks briefly before shaking his head.

“No thank you. Kaeya supposedly wanted to help yesterday. I haven’t heard from him since yesterday afternoon. No need to give him the right to bash me for having a girl assist,” Diluc said, your face turning a certain scarlet. Diluc catches this, eying you as that grip on your shoulder tightens still. You repress a groan, finding that grip irresistibly tasteful in pain. 

“You know something. Speak,” Diluc said, that hand having quite the commanding tone. You find yourself staying quiet for several moments, hoping that pain would increase. Sadly Diluc proved to be the perfect gentleman. His hand remains on your shoulder, but another scoops you up from behind. You feel your head against his chest, eyes looking up at him. You blush, feeling weird about it all.

“Okay, Angel Share’s open!” the man spoke once more, the front door to the tavern opening to reveal a smoothed wooden bar. You see Paimon rush in, excited for a drink. The Traveler notices the tension between you and Diluc, staying right where she is.

“Can I get something to drink first, I’m thirsty!” you reply, hoping the bratty attitude serves you well. In this case, it did–Diluc’s free hand clings to your neck. You feel your face turn red initially from the sensation. While the blissful feeling of pain, bruising, and pleasure were present–The Traveler makes easy work of freeing you from Diluc’s grasp. She places her hands along her hips, giving Diluc a stern glare.

“What is it guys, come on! I got Charles to make us all their current offerings! On Diluc’s tab of course,” Paimon said, a sneaky giggle following. You laugh, deciding to take up the freebies the flying creature was offering. You bow to the tensed Diluc and Traveler before heading into the tavern. You see logs and other wooden structures decorate the bar. Your eyes immediately move toward Charles. The man shakes up a few different drinks in metal containers. You smile, excited, but also knowing you need a moment.

“Hey Paimon, Hey Charles! Where’s the bathroom here?” you said. They both point toward the other end of the tavern, tucked away behind a table. You shuffle over there quickly, moving the table with ease before pushing open the saloon door. You close it behind you immediately, drowning out Paimon’s call for you to keep it short. You give your left nipple a pull, allowing your muscles to relax some. Despite the cramped space the bathroom was, it was the most time to yourself you had. The sound of static fills your ears as you admire the decorative bathroom in Angel Share. 

There sat several empty bottles of vintage juices, cocktails, and other non-alcoholic beverages. How badly you missed the burn of whisky from your lips–or from Sir’s–on off days. Would there be more off days if your group managed to succeed with their efforts? 

“ Pearls coming in…tired. In Angel’s Share, about to receive my room ” you said, hoping others would chime in shortly. The wording should be vague enough that–even in the off chance Lisa was still listening–would prove fruitless to her.

“ Survived your first night of Dottore claiming to be ‘undercover’. I believe congratulations are in order. Also, please share any updates on the location of The Traveler. ” Sir said, making you blush. You cover your face, smiling at the thought of seeing him. You knew it would not be soon. But whenever it would happen. You knew first hand that Sir spared no expense at ensuring you both had a good time.

“ Understood, thank you Sir. The Traveler and Diluc returned to the city overnight last night. Lisa walked me back to the city, dropping me off at Angel’s Share. Once Diluc and Traveler met with me again, I got a bit.  Uh. Choked by Diluc. The Traveler is calming Diluc down now, ” you said. You couldn’t let yourself spend too much time thinking of the good times of the past. You had to create the future you wanted. 

“ Interesting, as always. No mention of that daming blush you had. Which led to the choking. But also, somehow hot? Anyways. Kaeya and I are not a thing, buut. I will be camping a bit further tonight to decrease suspicion. I feel Diluc knows something already about your true identity. Not exactly sure to what extent–but I would rather wake up on grass and not in flames, ” Dottore chimed in. You puff up your cheeks, upset. How dare he mention that but not him literally sleeping with the enemy? Just how close had Dottore been?

“ Regardless, continue to adjust as we learn more. I get the sense we’ll learn more now that we will be closer to our target. Keep us updated, Pearls. ” Sandrone said, thankfully keeping the group on track. I sighed. This was what it was truly like then–being on the bad guys side? You find yourself wanting to think about it more, but fear the rest will hear you somehow. You table it for another time, a time after you ensured no more mixed communication happened. You hear footsteps close to the bathroom’s entrance, pausing close to the door.

“Excuse me, Mai. Allow me to first apologize for that interaction earlier. Fatui and I have a…complicated relationship. Now, feel free to exit the bathroom whenever you feel comfortable. Or wait for that cursed boyfriend of yours,” Diluc said, grumbling. While it was a grumpy apology, it was one nonetheless.

“ Ending transmission, Diluc and I are in contact again ” you said, pulling at your right nipple. The staticy sound lowers before disappearing from your ears. You open the door of the bathroom to find Diluc looking at you. You give him a slow nod before smiling.

“I understand. I gave you such a weird, blushing look didn’t I? Just never seen a guy assume a blush meant to choke, at least uh,” you said, finding yourself stumbling over words. You had no clue if Mondstadt folks knew anything about kink. But it was a good move to make. Your eyes watch as Diluc’s face turns a shade red. He clears his throat, gesturing toward the bar.

“Drink’s are all on me. Like said by Paimon,” Diluc said before rushing back toward the entrance, “I got stock to refill now. I’ll see you around.” The door closes with a quick slam. The remaining patrons are The Traveler, yourself, and Paimon. You walk up to the duo, The Traveler eying you up with a smile.

“I think Diluc’s got a thing for you, Mai! Maybe it’s the red outfit? Or, ooo, oo maybe the chemistry from the other meeting? He’s awfully awkward though! What do you think, Traveler?” Paimon asked, turning to her. The Traveler sips on an orange drink with a slice along its rim. 

“Just what will we come across this time,” The Traveler muses, “Only time can tell.”  You join The Traveler in tasting some of the many drinks lined up before you. You down a dark purple looking drink, enjoying its fruity taste and lavender scent. Paimon sips on another, much smaller version of the same drink. You feel more relaxed as time passes on. Diluc stops in, drops off some barrels, and returns. This repeats several times, with the moon being up by the time Diluc is done. You, The Traveler, and Paimon share a range of stories. You learn much more about The Traveler’s exploits, journey, as well as some small details about what occurred in Fontaine. The Hydro gnosis, whenever it comes to conversation, seems to be dropped immediately. The information would not be available unless you got closer to those around you. And if you kept running with this story of Tartaglia being your boyfriend, bad folks being after you, blah—

“Ah, brother, always the hardest worker,” Kaeya said. That voice snaps you out of your spiral. Your eyes connect with Kaeya’s, who gives you a knowing nod. You feel the air in your chest get tight. Just how much did he know? How much would he tell? You bite your lip, hoping to play your cards right. You turn and notice Kaeya standing by the front door with an annoyed Diluc. 

“Well, hardest because you decided to be lazier and not show up,” Diluc said, stomping further into the tavern. Kaeya follows with a cackle, reaching out for Diluc’s wrist. The two awkwardly pull away from each other before giving up. They cross their arms and stare each other down, a few feet of distance between them. 

“Well let’s just say I may have found my twin flame. But, go on, talk about your exploits with grape juice and sunsettia–” Kaeya said, but a punch was already heading his way. Diluc’s hand formed a punch in seconds, Kaeya dodging with ease. 

“Heh. Touched a nerve–or are you just upset I found true love before you?” Kaeya teased further. Diluc contains his anger this time, releasing his fist. His eyes wander toward you and company.

“Unless you want a drink, don’t you have some wonderful Knight duty to waste your Knightly time with?” Diluc comments, walking back toward the bar. Kaeya follows, his steps slow.

“Awh, brother doesn’t want to hear the good news at all? What a shame. Perhaps over a meal someday. Keep up the good work,” Kaeya said, waving bye to the lot, “If it weren’t for my Knightly duties wasting my precious time, I’d love to enjoy drinks with you.” The group waves bye to Kaeya, a pit growing in your stomach. You had a bad feeling about the Dottore situation. If information connected, wouldn’t that change Kaeya’s sudden infatuation? Before you think much else, you feel Diluc pull your shoulder. This time, it’s much gentler. 

“Please, follow me to your room,” Diluc said. You turn, following Diluc. The Traveler and Paimon were in the middle of an intense conversation about food, which meant they would follow another time. It was a few steps from the front, tucked away better than the bathroom from before. The doorway is unblocked, and as Diluc opens it, reveals a small room. It’s furnished with a bed, shelf, cabinet, and closet. There are some items you notice have mythical symbols over them. Books about magic, the stars, astrology, and a few other topics are stacked along the shelf. Some outfits are tucked further back in the closet, likely leaving room for your own wares.

“You can use the bathroom in the tavern. Besides that, just don’t touch any of Mona’s stuff. I hear she’s due back a few months from now due to some training in Fontaine,” Diluc said, gesturing over the room. You take a seat along the bedding, letting out a loud yawn. For your first day here, it was quite entertaining. You still weren’t sure what to make of things. And–with Tartaglia budding in–it just makes things harder to manage. 

“And, er, how would my boyfriend…ask for permission to visit?” you asked, feeling nervous. You see Diluc grumble at your words, shrugging. He crosses his arms.

“Give me enough notice so I can shut down Angel’s Share. We also need to coordinate with Lisa, who so kindly offered her time to babysit. I don’t know what kind of life you came from or how you get yourself in a position like this. Just try to stay safe,” Diluc said, turning to leave the room. Then, you recall something from the other day. That god or whatever told you to meet him at the Church for more information about your powers. You chose to leave that out of the briefing, in fear Dottore would explode in excitement. 

“Will do, Sir! Wait–excuse me–do you know where the Church is here? I would–” you said, but Diluc lets out a loud sigh. He cuts you off just by the sound of his heavy feet. You note there is a look of annoyance he had on before, similar to with Kaeya.

“The Church of all places? You aren’t injured anymore–and that is quite a walk for someone who just spent the last day or so hiking. Why not rest here for a bit? Why go through more walking, pain–stress?” Diluc asked. The man was good at asking questions that made you want to just stay silent. But you were brattier than that.

“You think because I’m dating who I am I don’t pray? I don’t pray for it? The life I want?” you asked, pulling out your best set of puppy dog eyes. Diluc remains formal, not crumbling under the eyes at all. Instead, he takes a seat beside you. 

“Listen, I’m aware. But I just restocked the entire tavern and don’t expect to babysit you while you do whatever prayer it is you do,” Diluc responds, his feet tapping against the wooden flooring with annoyance. You feel it–an urge from your pearls. It was a similar urge that you got during Dottore’s original test experiment. The way you would slice up their bodies, leave nothing but flesh and spilled blood. No–not now. Was this what the god was warning you of? You inhale sharply, standing to your feet with ease.

“ Listen to me, I ref–” Diluc said, but you shook your head and interrupted.

“Fine. I’ll find it on my own. Quit trying to baby me Diluc,” you reply, trying to exit but DIluc’s frame blocks the door. He narrows his eyes at yours. 

“First you claim to have no memory. Now it seems that you are recalling certain things and hiding others. Don’t think I forgot about how you blushed at Kaeya’s name earlier. You better not be the one he was referencing earlier. He’s an annoying brother and I’d hate to see him be a worse boyfriend,” Diluc said, seeming to have the same keen eye as Lisa did. You turn your hands into fists, fighting the cardinal urge to complete your mission by Sir now.

“Just let me leave. Give me a curfew if you feel the need to ‘protect’ me,” you reply, hoping he would move and let you leave to find answers. You soften your face more, like last time. You hope for different results but Diluc appears adamant on keeping you here.

“Hmmm. Is this whole ‘needing to pray’ mess just a cover to swap spit with that eyesore?” Diluc asked. Huh–what a strange change in conversation.

“What does it matter? I’ll leave, come back safe, we’ll move on our–” you say, but feel the bed shift underneath you. Diluc is a mere centimeters away from you, a hot blush on his face.

“What if I want you to…choose someone else. What if getting out of Fatui hands meant. Something better?” Diluc said. This wasn’t like Diluc at all–being cryptic and getting too close. It was starting to make you feel off. You continue to scoot away from the other, until you feel the wall connect with your back. Diluc remains just as close, his hands hitting the wall behind you with a soft ‘thud’. You were stuck between a wall and Mondstadt’s most sharp ally. You could try and dissolve the situation with some casual sex, maybe even some strange kinky shit Diluc could be into. But what about your powers, that God–hell, you could have all the sex you wanted back at the lair. And, as your eyes observe Diluc’s frame, you start to understand why women had a hankering from him.

His white shirt clung to his chest, showing off his abs nicely. Matching black pants also were tight, outlining Diluc’s cock. You eye that for a brief moment before your eyes return to Diluc’s. His red eyes await a reply from you.

“Do you think I can just remove and unfeel the love I have for him? That it’s simple, easy? A choice?” you asked Diluc, moving your head closer to close what little space remained between Diluc and yourself. You could feel Diluc’s lips barely touch your own. Dry, rugged–like any warrior’s would be.

“I know it’s hardly easy. But it will be worth it. He will only cause you pain,” Diluc whispers now, those lips speaking right into yours. Sure, if Diluc caught you before the whole debt wipe thing–maybe. Maybe it would have been enough to convince you not to run away with Sir. Though, through the intimacy of the situation. You were beginning to wonder if what Paimon said was true. Diluc was getting closer to you than most women in Mondstadt. 

 “We grew up together. Ajax may have an angle to work with you, this region–but not me. I’ve always been his first love,” you said, “Unless what you really want to say is, you have a thing for me.” There’s silence for a bit. The red nature of Diluc’s face grows. You watch, smile growing with your confidence. Maybe this spy thing was something that had to grow on you. The quiet continues. It drags on for minutes. It almost feels like time has stopped completely.

Then, after what felt like ten minutes of straight silence, the door came to a slow pull open. Diluc doesn’t move nor do you. As always, your boyfriend knew how to make quite an entrance.

“Apologies for the short notice, but I heard The Traveler has made progr–wait…why are you so close to her?” Tartaglia asked, his body entering the room with a seething anger. You can tell from his face he was not pleased at the sight. You needed to make this okay, and quickly. Before you are able to hop off the bed, Diluc wraps an arm securely along your waist. You feel Diluc turn you and himself to Tartaglia, who was already brandishing his weapons.

“We’ll. Diluc and I were talking and he got quite concerned about our weekly prayers. He didn’t think they were real, but, well, they are” you said, hoping that obvious lie works. You notice how Tartaglia enters the room and slams the door with so much strength, the hinges shutter.

“Listen, buddy. Remove your arm from my girlfriend if you have any sense. Otherwise I’m not afraid to get this tavern a bit of color,” Tartaglia said, balancing his hydro weapons along his wrists, “And I’m quite the colorful painter.”

“Everyone can just calm down tha–” you try to reason, but Diluc already has another arm around you, picking you up bridal style. 

“Let’s see what you got,” Diluc said, holding you in his arms, “I’ll make it easy and not use my claymore against you. Just, mind the lady after all.”

“Trust me, she won’t mind the pain. But you will ,” Tartaglia said, starting to lunge forward. You let out a loud, annoyed sigh. You keep your mind on what really counts, what that God from earlier wanted to tell you about. Before the boys are able to do much real damage, The Traveler and Paimon step in.

“Woah guys, chill out! Can’t you just agree to disagree or something? Is this why you wanted Lisa over before he came, Diluc? And don’t worry, we cleared out the bar early!” Paimon announces, proudly flying her way into your room and separating the two from the scuffle. The Traveler joins soon after, helping ease tension. Diluc drops you from his arms with a huff.

“It’s not as easy as it looks. Hard to look a Harbinger in the face and not immediately make plans for attack,” Diluc said. 

“Says the man nearly locking lips with my beloved. Whatever, I guess. I guess even the goody two shoes of Mondstadt likes a taste of the forbidden fruit, eh?” Tartaglia jokes, laughing. Diluc seems none too pleased with the joke, making his exit from the room swift.

“Guess that means we’re stuck on babysitter duty. Let’s give Diluc a chance to cool off, anywhere you’d like to go Mai?” Paimon asked. You sigh, glad.

“Well, where should I go? It wasn’t too easy to sneak into these walls, mind you,” Tartaglia asked, scooping you up the bridal style just as Diluc had before. You blush when he does this, trying to look away. But your eyes find Tartaglia blue ones, eyes easing at such a calming sight.

“I would like to go to the Church, please,” you asked. The Traveler nods, as well as Paimon. Tartaglia chuckles, giving you a nice squeeze.

“I should get you there easy enough, what if you just kept watch of that grumpy guy Traveler? I know how to lay low and can get my love where she needs to go,” Tartaglia offered. The Traveler thinks for a moment before nodding. You hope Tartaglia plans to take you to the Church are not lined with other things along the way. You could only hope, even with Tartaglia in tow, they would share the information with you. As you and Tartaglia start to make headway into Mondstadt, Tartaglia covers himself with a black cloak. You figure he did this to hide his own identity as he carried you over to the Church.

“Miss me, Mai?” Tartaglia asked. You nod with  a blush, holding onto your black cloaked prince.

“Awh, at a loss of words too? How adorable. I just caught up with The Doctor before heading over to you. Didn’t realize how much of a playboy that guy was in his younger days! But glad to hear things are going well, albeit slow moving. I do bring a message from Pierro, too,” Tartaglia said. Your mind makes quick work to match the codename to the person in question. You get nervous at the mention of both of your bosses. You cling on tighter, feeling Tartaglia ascend the stairs upward with ease. 

“Your target has now shifted. We now would prefer you to keep a close eye on who visits the bar. There is a man known as Zhongli who is rumored to have the gnosis now. Sometime this week he’s due to make an exchange with someone else,” Tartaglia advises, keeping his voice low as he notices a few people walking along. It was starting to make sense why Diluc was so on edge. That–on top of whatever feelings he did garner–would cause anxiety to go through the roof. As you two continue to climb what feel like endless stairs, you see the Church just barely in vision.

“Understood, though, I do have a question for you. Why are you going against orders? I thought you we–” you start to say, but Tartaglia presses his lips against yours. Right along the ascending stone stairs, he presses you up against a wall. You feel your blush return now, those lips hungrily eating at yours. You feel his hands gently stroke along your face, down to where your bosoms were. You feel haggard breathing along your skin, along your neck until you blurt out a soft groan along Mondstadt. Teeth  dive into your neck, causing blood to drip along your shoulder.

“Mrnmm!” you cried out, trying to keep your mouth shut but the noise would not stop. You see Tartaglia pull away with a grin, blood showing along his lips. You return the  smile, nuzzling his chest. Soon you feel his arms return along your waist and continue carrying you up the stairs. Tartaglia licks his lips to clear away any signs of blood.

On the final flight stairs, you see a variety of things. A fountain–several tall buildings–and, lastly, a tall statute of someone with medium length hair. The statute rose up high in the sky, the hands on the statute forming to make a small seat for someone above. You could just barely make something out in the distance. You think it may be that voice you heard before. But how were you supposed to scale a statute such as this?

“Well, I have business with the one known as Viktor in the Church. As to not stir suspicion, how about you walk around some, get to know the area better?” Tartaglia suggests, placing you down. You try to take his hand but he pulls away, shaking his head. You sigh, nodding  to signal you understood. As the black cloak of Tartaglia disappears into the Church, you approach the statue. Before long, you see leaves and wind ensnare you, raising you from the ground below. Your first instinct was to get away–but that had to be wrong. Your face upward, eyes locking onto the figure in the statute’s hands. As you approach, you notice the bard from before. A bottle of wine rests between his hands, a smile on his face. You feel the wind stall, your feet quickly making contact with the statue’s hands.

“So, the one who has gained pre-Khaenri’ah’s ears. Heh, I imagined you would just be this cute. But enough about that. What I’m about to tell you will shape the world as we know it. But first–care for a drink? Name’s Venti by the way,” Venti spoke, tipping the top of his wine bottle toward you. You nod, but gesture for the other to take the first swig. Venti nods, bringing the bottle to his lips for a resounding several moments. Once the bottle is removed from his mouth, a pleased gasp leaves his lips. Your eyes and ears listen to what may be critical to your Hydro gnosis mission.

Chapter Text

Lisa’s P.O.V

It has come to my attention that my school boytoy is brewing up trouble. I thought it would stop at the campsite, but it has grown. Kaeya has always been too curious for his own good. That, combined with his new obsession with an old flame–meant we had a problem.

I sat not too far from the boys. After dropping Mai off, I made a point to return here if I became uneasy. I’m certain they both were aware of my presence, but chose to ignore me instead. I felt like some sort of mother hen to Kaeya–a moth to a bunsen flame.

“Well, I just find it awfully odd I never learn my–” Kaeya said. He was picking the wrong acquaintance to interrogate. I had to think on the fly, standing up.

“You seem to be the one asking so many questions, Kaeya. Say, how about we let Dot ask some more about you?”  I said, walking up to the two. I could hear that eyesore scowl, rolling his eyes.

“I’d prefer to just leave. There’s nothing e–” Dot said, but before any further words could be spoken Kaeya picked Dottore up bridal style. A bright blush spreads across Dottore’s face, coughing profusely.

“Aaa–cho! Hmm, what’s that I smell? A liar,” Kaeya said, winking before letting out a laugh. Dottore grumbles, obviously not too happy with the attention.

“Fine. Tell me whatever you want,” Dottore said, relenting to the ever curious Kaeya. I watched the ongoing awkwardness with a pleased smile. While Dottore enjoyed skirting the rules and being a general madman, at least he was trying.

“Ah, well, that doesn’t sound too specific. Not even a category. Hmm. Well, I grew up in Mondstadt for the most part. Family means a lot to me. If you’d allow me, there’s a lovely bar in town, I could grab you a drink. Or several,” Kaeya said, really laying on the charm thick. Dottore’s eyes roll, but his body remains squarely in Kaeya’s strong arms.

“Playing hard to get, are we?” I asked, giggling. I watched as Dottore’s eye roll became more intentional, raising a gloved middle finger at me.

“Shut it. Are we talking about real alcohol or those dumb fruity drinks?” Dottore asked. One thing I knew from our time spent in the Akademiya was that the man was serious about his alcohol. A good whisky or rum could get the man to cross into dangerous waters. But would that be to anyone’s benefit besides Kaeya?

“We can get as real or as fake as you want. Anything for a guy as cute as you,” Kaeya continues on, leaning forward as he leaves several smaller kisses along Dottore’s face. While the damned Dottore grumbles at the kisses, one would be a fool to ignore how Dottore remained still. I continued watching, happy, but also still nervous for Kaeya. What if Kaeya stopped placating and became more aggressive? Worse still, what if the two came to blows in the Cat’s Tail?

“Wow, how flattering, playboy. I’ll go for the free drink but don’t assume things,” Dottore mumbled, Kaeya’s face planting kiss after kiss along Dottore’s temple. I shook my head, unsure of what to do. Following them to the bar would be natural, though, I could see the Cavalry Captain wanting me to take several steps back.

Dottore remained in Kaeya’s arms, who began to make steps toward Mondstadt. Lucky for Dottore, he had a different mask and frame from his initial visit to Mondstadt. So long as he used that surname Dot, and didn’t cause too much havoc, a few drinks in a bar seem harmless. I followed a short distance away from the two, giving them their space but also keeping a keen eye on them. It would fall on me if Dottore would prove to cause Mondstadt any issues. So, much like ensuring each book gets returned to the library, it would be me ensuring Dottore was ‘returned to the proper section’ so to speak.

“So, you always let strangers carry you to bars?” Kaeya asked. I could just picture that cocky, half smirk on Kaeya’s face.

“Usually it’s only out,” Dottore said, crossing his legs as Kaeya continued onward, “But I am willing to take this as a change of pace.” Kaeya laughs at Dottore’s attitude, his fingers seeming to squeeze the other’s body.

“You got quite the attitude on you. Nothing wrong with being hard to get,” Kaeya said, continuing onward. I decided to tune out their petty flirting exchange. If only Kaeya knew just how sickening Dottore was. Or was it better that Kaeya was unaware, oblivious to the dangerous exploits?

“You talk too much, shut your mouth. Enjoy the scenery. Think of better questions to ask, you scoundrel,” Dottore said. His demands were mostly met, Kaeya returning to silence. Kaeya’s arms continued to flex, those fingers massaging away at Dottore’s exposed skin. The two were sickeningly cute together. Dottore with his sour mood and Kaeya with his optimistic nature made for a comedic effect. As we got closer to the cobblestone walls of Mondstadt, the silence was still there, mixed with the compliments from Kaeya here and there.

Here was the tough part–the entrance. Knowing the usual guards, they were more familiar with Tartaglia than Dottore. But I still wanted to be careful. I entered Mondstadt shortly after the other two, watching Kaeya scale the wooden stairs to Cat’s Tail. 

“I know, random question, but are you allergic to cats at all?” Kaeya asked. I could hear Dottore scowl some more. I walked in front of the two, getting an eyeful of their pairing. Kaeya’s strong arms continued to cup along Dottore’s body, making Dottore’s weight appear like nothing. My hand opened the door to the Cat Tail for the two. Kaeya walks in with a big smile on his face, not even bothering to hear Dottore’s reply. I knew he wasn’t–but it would’ve been more funny if Dottore were allergic to cats. I entered shortly after the other two, Diona greeting me with a friendly wave and tail wag. The cats of the bar meowed happily at our entrance. I glanced back to see what reaction Dottore had. While there was no look of annoyance, there was a look of boredom stretched across Dottore’s face. I shrugged, smiling as I saw Kaeya gesture toward the number of cats roaming about the bar. Though, I watched as Dottore’s eyes grew curious at Diona. His eyes carefully scan Diona’s figure.

“What is that creature?” Dottore asked, releasing himself from Kaeya’s grasp. Kaeya shakes his head, walking with Dottore as  they approach the empty bar. Diona keeps their eyes forward, grumbling at Dottore’s curiosity.

“Name’s Diona, thank you very much! What’s your poison today, gentleman? Anything for the lady?” Diona asked, wiping some beer mugs dry. I could hear Dottore release the rudest cackles he could summon, Diona’s eyes squinting right at him.

“Oh, really, this is seriously a bar? You Mondstandters are a strange lot. Give me some of your finest whisky, cat,” Dottore said, getting out of Kaeya’s arms. I could hear Diona hiss, their eyes glaring at Dottore.

“Fine. But if you keep being rude toward me, the claws are coming out! You only get a pass for ordering a real man’s drink.. Kaeya, get a hold of this man, before I do,” Diona asked, grunting through their teeth. 

“Now now, let’s remain civil. We’re just out for some drinks on Kaeya’s tab?” I spoke up, hopeful that it would deter Dottore's usual attitude, “Any good Mondstadt wine you recommend?”  I watched as Diona thought for a moment, a cheesy grin spreading across her face.

“Now, miss Lisa! It’s not often I see you traveling the streets. What about we did something a bit more special, more interesting ?” Diona asked. I sighed, loudly. I knew this cat was up to something mischievous. I watched her stack four shot glasses along the bar, filling each up with a dark colored whisky.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice, you’re pouring shots already. Huh, reminds me of my time in schooling,” I mused, recalling the late nights, bar hypothesis discussions, and free drinks for both my beauty and brains.

“Lisa? Shots, like our younger years? Let’s see if you can still go shot for shot!” Dottore said, turning to me. I watched a grin grow on his face, a gloved hand waving me over. A look of curiosity was on Kaeya’s face, likely trying to find the right words.

I took a few steps forward, grabbing two shot glasses and downing them with ease. I heard DIona let out a shocked scream. I watched as her tail wagged, already pouring up more liquor. I could feel it, burning in my mouth. There was a familiar likeness to this burn, a familiar enjoyment I knew my much older body would feel this tomorrow.

Dottore does much the same, downing two shot glasses with ease. I could feel his eyes hot on me, same with Kaeya.

“My bet’s on the librarian. What about you, DIona? Dot or our Lisa?” Kaeya asked, his body leaning against the bar. Diona let out a cackle, checking to see how much in Mora she had in tips.

“Let’s go with the new guy, nice catch, and we’ll see who wins!” DIona notes, “I’ll carry the loser to a bed to rest.” Great–now they were stakes. If I won, then, that would put Dottore in a vulnerable position. What if Diluc found him? Any other members? Was losing the real win here? My green eyes focused on the filled shot glasses, weighing options.

“Hm. Never knew Lisa as one to hesitate when it comes to such lovely alcohol as this,” Dottore said, taking his two shots with ease. He places them back on the counter and continues to egg me on. I drown up those noises. I slowly took the next two shots, bringing them to my lips. As I drank them, I could feel a cough coming. So, I coughed, raising a hand to the sky.

“I’m calling it. No use in defending one’s pride in exchange for bodily damage,” I said, bowing. I could hear Dottore snicker, likely knowing that was nowhere near my limit. But unlike my days in school, there was a reputation I had to uphold here.

“Aww man, I was looking forward to dragging a passed out patron to our bed quarters. Are you sure, Lisa? You could cuddle a caaat?” Diona said, trying to sweeten the pot. I shook my head, a smile still stuck on my face. This way Dottore was kept safe and no awful rumors would begin spreading about me.

“Hah, well alrighty then. You’d think hiding in Mondstadt one’s drinking tolerance would grow. Sadly, yours has grown weak. Kaeya, I am feeling generous tonight. Feel free to bring me to your quarters. Though, I must leave in the morning,” Dottore said, grinning as he truly relished in making whatever I did into his gain. What’s a little pride anyway?

I watched Kaeya deadlift Dottore once more, peppering him with kisses. Dottore starts to return them now, of all times. I give a quick wave goodbye to the two lovebirds, exiting the Cat’s Tail.

“I wanna see you go all out next time, Lisa!” Diona shouted as I exited. I decided against reacting, simply walking down the wooden stairs. What good would it bring, a drunk Lisa with a power hungry and manipulative Dottore? Wait..power hungry…Kaeya…Dottore. It clicked. Once I stepped off the wooden stairs, waiting to see the two exit.

After what felt like a disgusting display of romanticism, I finally saw Kaeya and Dottore enter his home. Huh–it still wasn’t too late after all. I began to make moves back to my office, wondering what to do about the situation. Kaeya wasn't one to give up and Dottore liked giving anyone a run for their money. With Cutie in town, I could commission them this request. Despite how…eccentric of one it would be, I hope she would take it.

Chapter Text

Against all odds, you were sitting against a tall statue, besides one of the Archon’s that grace Teyvat. It was a miracle you got up here in one piece and your boyfriend didn’t follow.  Your eyes observe the petite figure of the Archon before you. A light green and white outfit adorned him, along with a brown corset. It was quite the bard-esque outfit, which you were enjoying. However, with each passing minute (and sip of wine), Venti was proving more annoying than anything.

“You know, it’s really rare. So rare to find wine this high quality and its current price,” Venti said. You were starting to get a sense of Venti distracting from the entire point. You speak brief, concise, letting the Archon know you were unafraid of what was to come. Venti nods, acknowledging this with a swig of his drink.

“Ah, yes, about the old tech with the whole hearing each other's voices without speaking. Before the folks from Celestia deemed Khaenri’ah as a potential threat, everyone was seen on a hierarchy. We were seen as these beacons of hope for the humans, while others resented our power and abilities. A certain sect of humans began to form. Humans who grew tired of depending on Gods. This section of humans believed in their own powers, their own abilities to find discoveries once reserved for God’s alone. This at first caused backlash. Those who were all-in for such lunacy were deemed witches. Or worse, part of a rebellion. In order to retain the current hierarchy, Celestia began looking for a denotation for humans who chose to believe in scientific intrigue and research as ‘lower forms’. I never particularly liked seeing anyone different based on their beliefs, so. So I never have. Uh, this gets hard to admit, one moment,” Venti explained, taking a break to take a long swig from his wine bottle. You can feel the break between explanations as you watch Venti down several gulps of wine in one sitting. The wind kicks up now, causing your hair to sway in the wind. This catches Venti’s eyes, turning soft before focusing back on your face. 

“I never agreed with this judgment. I always felt, within certain protocols, humans have potential to help themselves greatly. So I allowed for a loophole to occur. Typically, we Archons split up the land of Teyvat for ourselves. I decided that, underneath my territory, anyone who was part of this rebellious sect would not be punished. So that led to quite the migration. Many humans from across the world came to me for help, protection. Ergo the famous Mondstandt saying, free as the wind. It originally comes from that. Many folks like to debate its true origins, but that’s truly where it came from. Heh, even my appearance…time for another drink,” Venti continued on, emptying the remainder of the container into his mouth. You watch in amazement how Venti managed to drink the entire bottle in record time. These were difficult details to inform you, but you found it all helpful nonetheless. 

After Venti finishes his wine bottle, you watch as he grows more distant. The easy flowing words from before had stopped. Venti’s vacant stare looks along Mondstandt. Even as your pleading eyes stare at Venti for more, the silence is deafening.

“Well..?” you ask, waiting to hear more from the story. Venti perks up at the sound, nodding toward you.

“Ah, yes! Sorry, I forgot my place…uhh, where did I leave off again?” Venti asked, letting out a chuckle. You laugh too, trying to help the Archon become more comfortable. You note how his shoulders become less square, his eyes focused as that softness fades. Those green eyes stare back toward you now, your body settling into a sitting position.

“Eventually, what came to be known as Khaenri’ah grew underneath Mondstadt. The tech was never stopped or slowed on Archon demand. Human inventions began to amaze me, and I’m supposed to be an Archon! I really wanted everyone, including Celestia to approve of them as their own section of humanity. But that idea got bad, old, and turned sour quickly. Khaenri’ah began making statements, which many who believed in Gods at the time called ‘anti-Archon’. I tried to help make the messaging more neutral but that only served to  intensify efforts. Around the time when things hit their boiling point, Khaenri’ah was digging into territory once reserved for us Archons and Celestia. That includes the wonderful hearing ability you have today. 

Khaenri’ah came dangerously close to offering the powers of a God to any mortal with enough know-how. Celestia grew uncomfortable at the thought. Archons, some, began to worry of folks using said power for awful things. I think of it as everyone itching to fight already, so any move meant a move toward war. Which leads me to…oh dear,” Venti explained, but he began to feel a shake travel through his body. You reach out and try to hug the Archon as the wind speeds kick up. Your entire body is lifted from the large statute, revealing a not too far off Tartaglia. 

“ It figures, right when I get to the meat of what I so terribly wanted to share with you…the time is cut short. Best of luck, ” you hear Venti whisper to you, the wind surrounding you gradually dropping you off near Tartaglia. As your feet meet with the ground, your boyfriend’s arms embrace you. You embrace your boyfriend in return, inhaling that musky scent of his.

“Hey there, I see you got chummy with the Ameno Archon already. No handsy moves, I imagine,” Tartaglia asked, which you responded with a shake of the head. Your boyfriend picks you princess style again. Instead of rushing back to the tavern, Tartaglia instead scales the marbled buildings. One particular structure leads to a tower with a bell, overseeing the entirety of Mondstandt. You look down with curiosity, excitement. Your assignment was going strangely, but you were still alive. You were deep in enemy waters and would need to remain here until further notice. 

“It’s peaceful here,” you mention in a whisper, “It’s a shame that. Uh we. Need to do what we must.” You keep your words vague, being careful even of one of the tallest structures in Mondstadt. Your eyes search Tartaglia’s face for a response. His face is fair, blank–vacant as if waiting for you to mention something else. You let the silence linger. The wind kicks up again, your boyfriend kneeling against the marbled structure as he holds onto you tighter.

“Gosh, what a random windstorm engulfing the city. Looks like we may be camping up here for tonight,” Tartaglia muses. Your arms embrace the other with tightness, a tenderness you were missing from the hideout.  What Tartaglia mentioned before was becoming more apparent than ever.

“ You should relax some, while you still can. I promise, it’s going to get grating when you get deployed. The amount of deception, lies, and fake personas you need to create. It does end up building on the nerves,” those words of Tartaglia echo in your head. Your head peeks out from his chest, seeing a mixture of foliage and trash fly about in the wind. 

“I’ll take a liking to that. I miss you, us, alone time,” you whisper to your boyfriend, his lips leaning down to give you a delicious peck on the lips. Tartaglia cackles, his arms moving from supporting you to groping you. Each touch, every pinch–it felt like Tartaglia was controlling every nerve in your body to bring out your noises. 

“Such romantic words from my lovely girlfriend Mai. Say, it’s still young in Mondstandter time. Let’s have a night cap shall we?” Tartaglia said, leaning you against the marbled walling as he prepared camp.

What appeared to be a light traveling Tartaglia turned out to be more prepared than initially thought. A large, tarp-like material covers the openings of the bell tower. Ropes and other camping tools are hoisted to ensure the wind no longer blows so wildly. Inside, it felt quiet. Too quiet. You gulp, wondering what your boyfriend had plans for this time. As he nestles the last corner down for containment, you notice a faint, blue glow from his vision.

Your boyfriend sits down with a loud, boorish yawn. His gloved hands soon become ungloved, those hands embracing you closely. You embrace him in return, questioning the camping spot.

“Hmm, did that old librarian get you accustomed to forest camping? Besides, this is just as secure. I have a sky fakeout tarp I use in cases like these. When the morning hits, it’ll look like just another part of the Mondstadt skyline. Any other questions, dear lover?” Tartaglia mentioned, seeming to lay down the lover act thick. You shake your head no, curling up in his arms.

“You are right, it is very…troubling. I think you said it best–this work builds on the nerves? How can you stand to be on missions for so long, without any–” you begin to say, but Tartaglia’s familiar lips steal yours away. The silence eases off into love making noises, your moans and groans unable to be contained in a tarp.

“Mmm, there’s my devilish girl. It sucks, we won’t have the comfort of doing things like this under the watchful eye of that damned Diluc,” Tartaglia mentions between kisses, punctuating his words with teeth along your neck. You let out a half-shriek, his now gloveless hand covering your mouth.

“Now now, best recall, we are still on a mission. Even with the best of me in you, you must remain quiet,” Tartaglia said. You watch as he is quick to undress, folding each article of clothing neatly. Once folded, your boyfriend then pushes his clothes off to a far off corner, returning to you with a smirk.

“Are you scared you can’t keep it down?” Tartaglia adds, seeming to want to egg you on. You grumble, not wanting to back down for anyone. You can hear Tartaglia continue to egg you on, but you manage to get the upper hand. You sling off your shirt, it landing squarely on his face. You continue this until you are fully nude. Being the gentleman Tartaglia swore he had been, he does the same with your clothes as he did to yours. With the clothes out of the way, you begin to feel your boyfriend exploring your body, leaving bite marks, even sneaking in several spanks.

“Hmm. I could fuck you senseless, but that would go against the current mission goes of laying low…but I am…hmmm,” Tartaglia mutters to himself. Soon after you pull his head toward yours, giving him kiss after kiss. This shuts him up for several minutes. Pleased, happy hums leave your boyfriend’s mouth with each kiss you give him.

“Back to a hundred percent, my dear lover?” you whisper along his ear, he responds with a new love bite along your shoulder. You shutter as you let out one more, loud moan.

“Ah, always a show off, you,” Tartaglia said before leaving another kiss along your lips. This kiss felt off, as you feel a pill transfer via mouth from his to yours. You swallow without question however, figuring this was part of whatever the Fatui’s plans were. You feel the pill dissolve as it goes into your throat, feeling no different. Your arms embrace your lover once again. This time, you feel a light weight blanket cover you two.

“We should be able to get some rest this way. When you wake up, I’ll be sure to have you back at Angel’s Share. We’ll meet again for part-two, which is much riskier,” Tartaglia mentioned. You start to hear a familiar echo from Tartaglia’s voice, much similar to when you were ‘training’. Easing into unconsciousness, you allow your boyfriend to worry about whatever’s next.

Piles of piles of ice surround the current camp. A couple of lanterns give what little light is emitting. In the shadows, two adults speak tongues from an unmarked tome book. Unaware are two children–one with too much confidence and one with not enough.

“...Are you sure this is safe, my dear…this writing looks awfully old. Perhaps predating the Archon war, I’d imagine. What if it contains forbidden knowledge? We can’t even fathom what this power for our families will cost us in the long run,” a rugged male in all black whispers, eying the children and their innocence. Another taller figure with black hair shakes his head, flipping through the various sections of the tome. 

“Safe, not safe. We are all doomed to the same cursed fate. Our children are under the rule of a failed system, of broken dreams. We cannot control what may be fated for our kin, but we can prepare them. Even at the cost of…” the man trails off, finding the page he was looking for. Several stars, letters–even an image of a Hilichurl. 

“What is this? Wait–don’t tell me–” the brown haired man spoke, but it was already far too late. The once clear waters that ran beneath the icy surface now turned jet black. A deep, seductive voice calls out to the humans.

“What sinners…deserve penance…which sinners…deserve protection?” the voice spoke out, causing Ajax to cry out. However, you. You are drawn to that voice. You take two steps toward the adults before your parent extends a hand toward you.

“Sinner..d-dad, are we sinners? I thought–” Ajax tried to speak, but the voice only grew louder and more demanding. You feel the soles of your feet burn with the ice underneath you. When your eyes move to the adults, you notice tendrils of darkness crawl up your body. You hear Ajax yell out, but you simply laugh in return. At first it just felt like someone was trying to tell you something, teach you things. It was in a language you hadn’t understood, but somehow you were learning from the voice.

“Sinners, we are not. But. The being before us will let us know of their power, I am certain,” the adult holding the tome said, raising their hand over the book. Instead of the usual brown/red ink, the scriptures were written in jet black ink. Your eyes trail to the mask slowly rising from the book. You knew it was a bad symbol. But something about it…called to you. You continued to trek onward, hearing those dark velvety voices in your head lull you forward. Dark shadows encircle you. Where it burned, your skin felt stronger. Where it felt too cold, the heat from other sections of your body transferred over.  Your grin grew large as you noticed one of the adults around you grow excitable, grinning ear to ear. 

“What are you doing with my son?!? What is happening here,” the brown-haired adult spoke, slamming their foot against the ice, “This was supposed to be a simple ice fishing trip!” That does not stop your lust of knowledge, the forbidden–and just how cozy that mask looked. You continued forward, watching the two adults struggle over the book. Tartaglia screams as the black tendrils pick at his hair. A small tuft of Tartaglia’s hair returns underneath the ice along  with the tendrils surrounding him.

“It seems like there are issues with the methods of payment…if not resolved soon, it could cost your very life,” that same grimly voice spoke from before, the mask gradually sinking back into the page, “If the payment is not paid in full. Twice the payment will be needed.” 

“T-T…no way. Why couldn’t you just agree, my dear friend!?? Our kids could be the strongest in the world. No war or curse would keep these kids from living their best life!” the black haired woman spoke, her once plump lips becoming drained of life. Despite the mask floating back into the book, you were still curious. You still wanted to learn all of what that language was teaching you.

“I was on the fence about the arranged marriage with dear Ajax. But now–you’ve gone and traumatized both of these kids and sentenced their parents to death! Parentless with unknown powers of the darkness leaking in their veins. The blood is on your hands now, Fania,” the man spoke, hatred dripping from each word. You don’t stop your advances, you continue until that ancient book ends up in your hands.  

“Hey, wake up you! Diluc has a thing or two to tell you! Maybe even a contract…the time and the way in which you came home sorta…” Paimon screamed at you, waking you from a very detailed memory. You immediately look at your hands, shaking at the recent discovery. What exactly did you do as a child? Was that ice fishing trip the one that caused your fate to be entangled with Tartaglia’s?

“Paimon, allow the girl to get dressed first. I don’t care what that Harbinger has to say–there’s no excuse to carry a naked unconscious lady here with no warning. What are the implications, hmm? Well, in either case, you will feel the consequences of your partner’s lack of foresight,” Diluc speaks from behind Paimon, spooking the flying being. You note The Traveler attempting to calm down the upset voices. You cradle your head in your hands. Whatever was in that medicine your boyfriend gave you was starting to jog your memory.  With a slam of the door, Diluc leaves you to redress before whatever poor attempt at discipline he would enact. 

You get up and make haste with dressing. Once you put on the outfit you had from the prior night, you open the door to reveal the usual suspects.

In front of you stands Diluc. His glare shows how upset he had been, matched with Jean and Lisa. You feel a scarlet blush rush across your face, nervous. It would be easier to just admit you were up to no good.

“I was unconscious–” you tried to explain, but Mondstandters seem to like interrupting.

“No excuses. Your boyfriend carried you, sans clothes, across this city. Do you know how much chaos you’ve caused the town now? Now you’re known as ‘naked girl’. And I don’t like being associated with someone with such a precarious name,” Diluc said. You keep your head low. You see from the corner of your eyes Jean gently pat Diluc along the back.

“Perhaps what Diluc is trying to say, in less kind words, is you’ve drawn quite the target on your back now. Not to mention Tartaglia made no effort to hide his identity. There’s also some whispers across town about you being a captured princess of the Fatui,” Jean said, seeming to reference notes from a paper, “And another rumor about some sort of prophecy. It aligns with the one being told in Fontaine right now, but it has similar connotations. The primary territory element consumes its people and leaves nothing but clothes in its wake. Traveler, you've witnessed this first hand correct? Perhaps this is an Abyssal Order’s way of causing chaos.” The Traveler nods and begins sharing details of what she saw in Fontaine. You remain quiet, arms crossed, feeling out of place.

“What’s more concerning is how the elemental integrity in air has changed. Some research back when I was a scholar was based on the elemental resonances impacts on the atmosphere. There must be some sort of change in the domains causing this. Or perhaps someone has constructed their own domains to interfere with the ley lines. In either case, it is incredibly time sensitive. Jean and I will continue to monitor the city for any other strangeness. Traveler, Diluc, and Mai, you are selected to manage the  state of the domains. I understand that your vision is quite special, Mai, and I would rather you be out of our hair helping us than waiting for the next exposé with your boyfriend,” Lisa said with a giggle, “Consider it a mandatory field trip of sorts.” You nod, but find the current situation perplexing. The librarian just told you to not use your power earlier, but was sending you on a mission to use said power? Mondstandt folks confused you quite a bit. You hear Diluc grunt.

“Really, you are dumping Knight duty on me? If it weren’t for my passion for this place, you’d be out of luck,” Diluc said, though you can already hear Paimon call out his tsundere attitude.

“Now, how many times have I heard your complaints? ‘I never get to hang out with The Traveler,’ ‘The Traveler is always busy–’” Jean began to quote, but Diluc was already making steps toward Angel’s Shares exit. 

“Forget it. Let’s get a move on, Traveler, Mai. Paimon,” Diluc said. You manage to tune out what little argument Paimon spat out regarding her name being last. The Traveler, you, Paimon, and Diluc proceed out toward the gates of Mondstandt. The guards regard you with a nod as you exit, your heart pounding achingly fast. What did your boyfriend drug you with? Would it be something to help control your delusion powers, so you wouldn’t go craven with bloodlust like last time? Or would this be the moment where both targets, isolated, could be killed off by you and other Harbingers? Whatever your fate, it made your heart beat fast and skin oh so sweaty.

As the group ventures further into the plains, the winds continue to worsen. You feel the wind nearly knock you over several times, the group using Diluc as a windshield.

“Jeez, it’s like someone is using the power of the Ameno gnosis to generate energy…waiiit,” Paimon said, coming to a conclusion, “What if Fatui are invading Mondstandt while we’re out?!?” 

“Jean would not let that be. You silence those thoughts of yours, Paimon. Traveler, help me track the source that this energy is coming from. We should be able to use elemental sight to see it. You better help too, Mai, earn your keep,” Diluc said, causing you to scowl. You cover your mouth, abruptly forgetting your place. You see Diluc look back at you with calm annoyance before focusing on the issue at hand. You note how Traveler and Diluc close their eyes with focus.You copy that same movement, allowing your feet to guide you forward. The tendrils you saw with your eyes closed looked awfully familiar to what you saw earlier. You want to force yourself to stop moving forward. But. You cannot stop. You continue to move forward, feeling your feet step over Diluc and The Traveler’s.

“Heeey, Mai, wait up! You’re going too far ahead. Jeez, she’s about to enter that domain over there,” Paimon notes, screaming out, “And there’s a bunch of monsters about to burst through! We better help before it gets dicey!” You smile at the thought of showing off your powers. You knew it was risky, but perhaps that was what made this “part two” of the plan. You reach down below, feeling the source of the massive energy just a domain away. You hear the monster shouting, the ‘allies’ behind you rallying, and an undeniable desire to prove your power.

You exhale sharply, removing your pearls from their velvet container. You lace them around your neck as the Tsaritsa did in your meeting. You flourish your arms just as you did during your dream. You exhale, slower this time. The red colors of your dress become adorned with dark dots, shooting out shadows as they proceed to chain the monsters up. You can nearly hear voices from them, screaming out in pain. You drop to your knees, hearing what felt like hundreds of voices in one symphony of pain. You can feel tears begin streaming down your face. Is this what those monsters' voices have always sounded like, covered in grunts and foul high pitched sounds–you wonder. You are afraid to open your eyes, those tendrils from your body snapping with ease. And, when your eyes open, you see the monsters still writhing in pain, sticking outside of the domain.

“Woah, I’ve never seen someone with a Vision that allows for the manipulation of shadows before. Isn’t that cool, Traveler?...But wait. Do darkness visions exist, Diluc?” Paimon asked, moving from impressed to curious in just two short sentences. You hear nothing from Diluc but grunting, the sound of his sword and Pyro vision swiping away at the domain’s half-open entryway. The monsters move backward in response, allowing the domain to fully close. You close your eyes to see if the elemental energy is now contained. What once was a large excess in ameno energy, was finally closing.

“Let’s save questions related to Mai’s powers for later. They seem to be helping us in the meantime with getting these domains under control. I’m sure Traveler understood as much as I did from what we saw. Mai’s ability to contain these monsters in the domains is critical. Otherwise we may be spending all day fighting monsters instead of getting the domain closed and settled. Mai, would you at least share with us how your power works..?” Diluc said, daring to put a hand on your shoulder. You jerk your shoulder forward, patting that hand away. You huff, shutting your eyes as you rush toward the next domain issue. 

“It works in a pretty straight forward way honestly. The black darkness grabs onto the monsters, restraining them. And I. I hear who they used to be, the collective they were. It sounds that the last group in particular were in pain because…because,” you said, stuck on what the monsters were saying. It wouldn’t make sense for deceased humans to turn into monsters. And it equally wouldn’t make sense for Celestia to send deceased humans from this world back as deformities. You frown, starting to be able to see what was clearly wrong with this world. You take a seat, sitting underneath your legs as your hands shut tightly in front of your face.

“Well? Because?? It would be super helpful to figure out how these monsters end up like this! I don’t think many monsters know or are able to break out of domains without intervention,” Paimon said, seeming puzzled at the current situation.

“Recall Paimon. The Abyssal Order is a construct of the same monsters that apparently Mai says has consciousness. It seems while others may have more resentful feelings, others are just victims of circumstance. Perhaps we simply avoid confrontation on those who are in pain, and try to single out the ones responsible,” Diluc said, his observations and conclusions very Knightly for someone who despised the Knights of Favonius. You decide to allow the moment to pass, standing once you have said your prayers to those monsters in the domain. You return to rushing toward the next great mass of energy with the rest. 

“If the point is to catch those responsible, what’s the point in closing them?!?!” Paimon complains, you sigh.

“Paimon, if the domains are left open…what will happen to those monsters?” The Traveler asked Paimon, which she then thinks and nods quickly.

“Oh, I get it now! We’re closing the domains for now to avoid anyone potentially causing an issue by attacking them, or by accidentally getting stuck in a domain,” Paimon said, gaining more clarity.

“And, if we’re lucky, those responsible were sloppy and left clues to their identities. I still feel on a fence about all of this, especially with Fatui dropping this informant at my doorstep,” Diluc said, still seething with suspicion. You shrug at those words, focusing up as you see yet another group of monsters wedged between a domain opening. This time takes a greater amount of focus, as the voices of pain become louder. There were regrets you heard, words swearing against Celestia, and oddly, the Archons of Teyvat? You gulp as you listen in, trying to retain as much information as possible. As the next domain was able to be closed, everyone felt a noticeable shift in the wind. The blustery winds from before are replaced with more subtle, softer gusts. 

“Well, with two down, it feels better already! But why would someone mess with domains just to get them fixed again?” Paimon wondered, seeming to be using her brain for more thinking than combat like the rest of you.

“I can’t be sure. The more I hold these monsters back, the more regrets and pain they share about the Archons, the world itself…it’s as if they are crying out in pain,” you respond, unsure if that would help. You see that Traveler and Diluc are  entranced in thought, unsure of where this will lead.

“It sounds as if the Abyssal Order is trying to make moves. Think  about the rumors spreading and the instability in domains. They’re trying to destabilize the ones in existence. Traveler, I understand you have business here, but I suggest we parley with whoever these folks may be. Mai, if we may ask…do you have the ability to speak back to them?” Diluc asked, seeming to turn to you with hope. You shrug again, letting out a loud, tired sigh. Diluc glares at you, still wanting an answer. The Traveler nods beside Diluc, looking toward you as well. From not knowing what you could do to, well, not being sure of what you can do, you didn't want to overpromise. But, with one domain still needing to be cleared, you suggest you can try it. 

As you approach the final domain, there’s something strange about it. It’s near the lake along Mondstandt, and the monsters appear much more…stronger. You stretch your arms out, focusing as hard as you can.

“ My dear, sweet child. Is Mai your new name now? Oh how you’ve grown… ” a familiar, motherly voice calls out from the domain. But how? Your parents were long dead. And yet…the sweetness of your mother was there, clear as day.  This forces your eyes open, revealing a tall, brute monster. A protective case of what may have been enhanced rock or clay formed along her body. Pointy shards of skin protrude, with a split between dark brown and other colors. It was all so much to take in. Not more than a few feet away from you, tied in your dark rope, had been a group of monsters. 

“M-M-Mom…” you cried out, struggling to retain control. Your fingers grip onto the darkness rope for dear life, tightening it to ensure the monsters would be pushed back through the domain. 

“ No need to get emotional. I can already tell Ajax and your coupling went through. Although it did cost our families quite a bit in the end, ” the monster spoke again, seeming not to struggle at all as The Traveler and Diluc worked to push her back into the domain.

“P-Please hurry, that monster is pretending to be my mother! That will never be my mom!” you screamed out. You wanted to be done with this task already. Was this what Lisa truly wanted–to have teardrops fall from your eyes? You begin to hear a commotion not too far ahead, the monster making moves with it’s big talon arms to bang the ground below.

“ I am Mai’s mother! ” the sound blurted out from the monster, the fists the monster made pausing inches before they connected with the ground. This causes all kinds of dust, grass, and dandelion seeds to spread across the air.  Even a splatter of water crests along the coast. The group is left in an awed silence.  

“...There is a first time for all things,” Diluc mutters before adjusting his claymore in a defensive posture, “And among all things, this is the first time in recorded history a monster spoke a full sentence. With how much anger that sentence had, and by–it uh. This is not hurting us. It’s safe to assume that Mai is correct, these beings do have their own consciousness.” You remain quiet, unsure of what to make of things. You just recalled what happened that night during the ice fishing scene, and still were needing the final bits. Worse of all, now Diluc would keep a closer eye on you.

“This is getting way too confusing! How the heck Mai's mom turned into a monster when that is typically…ooooh, oh no. Traveler, we–” Paimon said, but The Traveler simply shook her head, gesturing the group of monsters back into the domain. Most of them follow this wish, except for the one claiming to be your mother.

“I believe she wants a moment alone with her child,” The Traveler said, bowing her head in respect toward the towering creature, “There’s no telling if they will get another chance like this.” Paimon nods and proceeds to file away while Diluc remains focused, brandishing his claymore.

“For safety reasons I cannot offer that pleasure. But I will allow them to have a short chat,” Diluc said, retaining his position, “Feel free to do as you wish, Traveler.” The Traveler proceeds to walk off toward an unmarked location with Paimon.

“ I hoped that one day we would be reunited. These circumstances are not ideal, but. I am certain Ajax will keep you safe and well kept, ” your mother spoke. You kept crying. How stupid was this fate thing, to be fated…to be married off so young you forget. Was this anger toward your mother you were feeling, or a different sensation entirely?  You manage to retain your temper, using those darkness tendrils to wrap your mother up securely.

“So, from the start. Even from when I was born. You wanted me to be with a Harbinger?” you asked, which caught Diluc’s attention. His eyes now moved to the monster, who remained quiet for several moments. You can see the monster stamp around awkwardly, as if trying to find the answer for your question. 

“ We do not control fate, my dear. Much like the way the rain water falls from the sky, we cannot control how the water droplets will fall. And for you, my daughter, it will rain for the remainder of your life. All you can do is prepare, “ the voice said. It was just as wise as your mother always was. You couldn’t stop the tears, they kept falling, blurring your vision of what was now your mother.  You continue to cry, with your mom doing her darndest to hush you. You can feel the ground shake, your mothers body towering over yours. Diluc is the only thing that separates you two, Diluc keeping a keen eye on all of your mother’s movements. 

“And what if…this fate was not mine to take? What if the water is wrong, life is wrong–everything isn’t right. I was supposed to die so long ago, but what did I persist for? To see you like this mom? To be used like a puppet between organizations, between–” you continue to speak, but you feel a hardened hand pat your head. Your tear-ful face stares upward, noting your mom’s hand petting your head. Your mom did that often, especially as she became too sick to care for you. Since you were at a lack of words, you shut your mouth.

“We will discuss more of this when we return to Angel’s Share. I do not expect deep details, but it does sound like your fate with the Fatui was a setup from the start. I wonder the same for Tartaglia. This is becoming more fruitful for information than we encountered before. Now, mother of Mai, can we request you return to the domain safely? These things being half-open are causing an issue for us at present,” Diluc spoke, turning to show off the most curious look he gave you since you’ve met. You did let your tongue slip a bit too much.

“If that is what is best, then yes. Remember not to waste your abilities, my child. Be what we wished for you since the beginning, ” your mother said, standing up as she walked back into the domain. You release your darkness ropes around your mother. And, as Diluc closes the final door, the strange windiness dies down entirely. 

“Looks like that did it! Uh, yay right? Or is it a bad time to be celebrating?” Paimon said. You laugh it off, giving the flying creature a small pat on the head. Paimon blushes at this flying right back over to The Traveler. 

“I suppose we have finished our end of the bargain. We can only hope the inside walls are as calm as the wind now,” Diluc said, hoisting his claymore along his back, “Let us return for now.” You, The Traveler, Paimon, and Diluc make your way back to Mondstandt. You had a feeling Lisa knew all along you weren’t going to use your Vision. And you intended to get to the bottom of how the librarian knew that so far in advance. The group remains quiet as you walk through the plains and fields back to the Mondstandt bridge. As you approach the cobblestone bridge, you feel that idiot Diluc’s hand on your shoulder again.

“My boyfriend will be mad if you get much more handsy, Diluc,” you said, jerking forward toward the gates of Mondstandt. But, before you could take another step forward, Diluc grabs you by the shoulders and holds you close to his chest. You scream out, wanting to push away–but instead you break down. The tears from earlier return, causing a choked out cry to exit your lips. The sound was muffled, straining to remain contained against Diluc’s pecs.

“Oh Mai, she’s. I don’t know. So much is going on with her, it makes my head hurt!” Paimon complained. You were glad The Traveler knew just how to shut the winged creature up–food. Happy eating noises are soon replaced with the typical Paimon dialogue.

“Quit trying to be strong for him. He will need to tell you the full truth, very soon. Those powers you displayed typically need to be reported. But, given the nature of your day, combined w–” Diluc proceeded to explain, but seems to push you away at the precise moment needed. Between the two of you lay a very familiar scalpel. You gulp; was Dottore about to blow your cover already? 

“Hey there, now if my brother wasn’t so quick with his moves. That may have ended poorly,” Kaeya said, having Dottore hang off his arm like eye candy. Lisa is right beside him, seeming to do her best to cover for your colleague's identity. Her usual hat is fixed on Dottore’s head, covering his face.

“Sorry about the intrusion, Diluc. We were wondering if you could host us at the Angel’s Share. I think we found a decent amount of information regarding the phenomenon we experienced today. While most days I am more of a ‘over dinner’ kind of girl, this type of situation is more intense,” Lisa said, leading the group already into Mondstandt. Your heart is unsure of what to do. You inhale as you begin to hear that familiar, staticy sound. 

“ My experiment continues to be successful twice over! The girl now also has some strange power, dear Pantalone, to bind monsters to domains, ” you hear Dottore cheer out in your head, his current face and body language clinging onto Kaeya. Diluc’s annoyed eyes glance around before shrugging, following the already walking Lisa. The group follows, Paimon’s mouth too stuffed with food to say anything. 

Chapter Text

You could feel the tension. You had to act dumb, knowing how stupidly dangerous this was. You                                     blame Dottore for inserting himself into a job you were getting the ropes of. You watch as Lisa continues forward, getting closer to those guards at the front gate.

“Hmm, hold on, everyone,” Diluc announced. Everyone stops in their tracks, including the munching Paimon.

“Mrmmm, what is it Diluc, Paimon’s enjoying some really good food made by The Traveler!” Paimon shouts, returning to stuffing her face. The remaining bystanders (Dottore, Lisa, yourself, Kaeya, and The Traveler) turn their attention to Diluc. Diluc appears puzzled, staring at the group of folks.

“Perhaps Angel’s Share will be a bit..too small for such a gathering. I suggest we make moves toward the Winery. There, we can have more space,” Diluc said, nodding toward you, “And privacy. Does everyone feel able to make the trip?” The group all appears to nod, even the hat-wearing Dottore. 

“Hmm, I suppose that could be seen as more appropriate. You dislike city life, right Dot? My brother owns quite the establishment off in the countryside. I get the feeling you’ll love it,” Kaeya said, diving underneath Lisa’s hat to plant a kiss along Dottore’s face. You can hear the man scowl, but remains still. He had to remain somewhat pleasant–otherwise the folks around you would get suspicious. So long as your fellow Harbinger could handle the affections of Kaeya, you figure this may work out. However–what confused you–was why Lisa chose now to hide his face. You can only surmise that both the Traveler and Diluc knew Dottore by face.

“Ah, great idea Diluc. How about you lead the way and we’ll follow?” Lisa said, smiling as her arm along Dottore’s back tugs hard to jerk the man forward. Lisa’s hat droops lower, obscuring Dottore’s face even more. You definitely needed to catch that librarian alone again. How could she help a Harbinger while knowing the dangers that could lurk? 

“Very well. Follow me everyone,” Diluc said, turning around as he began to make his way to the Dawn Winery. Paimon follows immediately after Diluc, ranting about what food they could have for dinner.  You notice  The Traveler appears to be thinking pensively on something, unmoving from the front gates of Mondstandt. You note this, allowing the others to pass on by as The Traveler continues to think deeply.

“Something on your mind?” you ask The Traveler. Her blond locks sway as she turns her attention to you with a smile. She waves you to go onward, noting she was simply thinking about her brother. You shake your head at that. You had to learn the enemy. And they were right here, thinking about something important to them.

“Oh, but I do want to learn more about you. Can you tell me more about your brother? Perhaps I’ve seen him around before,” you said, trying to coax the other to spill more information. You watch as The Traveler sighs, stretching before going into a run to catch up with the other folks. You follow soon after, nodding as you listen along to Lumine. 

She begins to explain her backstory. She goes into the struggles she has been through, the different Archons she has spoken with, and the purpose of her journey. You are shocked to hear her brother, Aether, was her partner in traveling the galaxy. You feel out of sorts now, realizing you were talking to essentially an alien. You share the cover story the other Harbingers cooked up for you.

“Well, I was born in Liyue. I grew up there with my parents before they passed on. After that, I’ve been working for the restaurant industry for most of your life,” you explained. This piqued her interest, a smile growing on Lumine’s face. 

“There is a popular cook I know already from Liyue. We could head that way tomorrow if you’d like assistance getting home. I’m certain, as long as you work hard, she will take you in. He–” Lumine began to explain–but it was already far too late. Your brain quickly recalls there was a hand off to be happening soon. What if that happened now, while you and Dottore were away? You hear a familiar static enter your mind.

“ Girl, it appears we are off track. I assume you know how to keep a man distracted, given your “assets”. Please keep Diluc distracted while one of us grabs the Hydro gnosis. ” Dottore said. You force yourself to bite your lip, trying to recall what little conversation you caught from The Traveler beforehand.

“Ah, but. Uhm. I still don’t know how I ended up where I did. I just woke up in some plain near Mondstandt’s gates,” you reply, trying to make sense of the conversation. You see Lumine nod thoughtfully to your words.

“ But. We don’t even know where it is yet, Dottore. And Diluc is the last person I’d want to distract. He’s already very suspicious about my powers ,” you reply in your mind, trying to also keep ears out for what Lumine had to say next.  The group continues onward, treading through the hilly terrain and narrow paths. You continue to hear Lumine out, who offers suggestions. Lumine even offers to research your sudden appearance in the area in exchange for filing an official commission via the Adventurer’s Guild Commission board. 

“Haha, ouch, OW, Dot, stop,” Kaeya belts out from above. This forces you (and Lumine) to rush toward the crowd. Your eyes glare at the scalpel that Dottore has. The tool is dripping with Kaeya’s blood. You cross your arms, huffing. 

“ Well, if you refuse to do it your way, I will put this into my own hands, girl! ” Dottore warned. You knew you could handle it. And, per Capitano’s notes, Dottore was already trying to muddy the waters. You see Diluc look over Kaeya’s wounds with little concern.

“He would have dodged them easily. Weird–why do you want people to hurt you?” Diluc asked, rolling his eyes as he continued toward the Dawn Winery. You feel a similar headache from when you went out here before. You are careful with your thoughts, knowing Lisa can hear them as well.

“ Lay another finger on anyone from my town, and I will turn you in. No questions. No explanation–just jail for you, Dottore. Or should I say your new nickname, Dot? ” Lisa said in your mind. You wince hearing this, trying to continue forward. Lumine notices your struggle, offering to carry you. You shake your head, trudging on as you see the Statue of Seven not too far away.

“ Please, no bloodshed! That goes for you too, Fatui. We are experiencing something we have not experienced in many, many years. Why waste it with bloodshed and needless violence? ” Venti said in your head, aggravating your headache. You want so badly to take Lumine’s offer, but worry if your delusion could be sensed if you hopped along her back. You begin to see the roof of the Dawn Winery, feeling your headache get worse and worse.

“ Ah, one of our dear Archons. Oh, please tell me, when did you stop the bloodshed of those siding with Khaenri’ah? You invited them into your region for them to be slaughtered right before your eyes! And, do not pretend you are unaware of the invisible bloodshed that ensued,  ” Dottore said, seeming to be upset with Venti. There’s still a difficult, head pounding headache in your head. Fine–if Dottore wanted to play a part–you would.

You break away from Lumine, waving goodbye. You rush toward Diluc, taking his hand into your own. You see Diluc  acknowledge these actions, looking toward you briefly before looking toward the Winery.

“Are you tired again? Would you like me to carry you the rest of the way?” Diluc asked, stopping in his tracks. You nod. He sighs, leaning down as he allows you to rest on his back. He returns to his usual pace, walking toward the Winery. You await Venti’s reply, but it never comes. Lisa remains quiet as well. You feel your stomach churn, nervous, unsure if Diluc could sense your delusion. 

“Ooo, we’re almost there! Diluc, can you make your speciality? I love the way you make that dish,” Paimon asked, excitedly flying across the group, “Or is it more of a steak day for you?”

“Oh Paimon, always curious about the food. Would you like some of my skewers as well? Of course, if my brother lets me,” Kaeya offers, which Diluc grumbles at. 

“Fine, we’ll make food too. Lisa, isn’t there something of importance you want to tell us?” Diluc asked, noting the librarian’s close proximity to Dottore and Kaeya. Lisa shakes her head, extending an arm to point toward the Dawn Winery’s entrance.

“Not quite yet. It’s an intense theory about what the Abyssal Order may have in store for us. It would be best to talk about it in close quarters,” Lisa said, making her way toward the Winery with Dottore in tow. Kaeya follows soon after, entering the quarters to make food. You watch Kaeya immediately disappear deeper into the Dawn Winery. 

“Ah, I see. Well, I take it we should head toward the dining room,” Diluc said, waving everyone else in as he entered. You follow close, grabbing hold of Diluc’s hand again. He does not brush your hand away, keeping it in his hold. You hear the others  walk in not too long after, Paimon heading to Kaeya’s side to ‘observe the cooking process’.

“Alright, I will take a seat here then,” Lisa calls out, finding her way to one of Diluc’s chairs. She sits down, then takes Dottore’s hand. She uses that to guide Dottore into a seat. Diluc guides you to a seat directly in front of Lisa, The Traveler sitting to the right of you. With The Traveler being between you and Dottore, perhaps it would be some much needed cushion room.

The room you are in is a highly decorated room from what appears to be fine wood and furniture. The house itself feels cozy, much warmer than the blustery winds from outside. The group sitting remains quiet, waiting for the two brothers to return. 

It takes about half an hour, but the food comes out fresh–hot. Paimon happily munches away as the others patiently wait for Lisa to begin. All eyes are on her. The librarian shakes her head, pushing her hair back.

“Okay, it appears we are all at attention now. Now, you should be aware of the current issue with the domains. Someone, or something keeps re-opening them. The difference this time is they are being opened–and then immediately closed. Perhaps when we found the domains open, it was an accident. It appears whoever is entering and leaving the domains are using them as some form of quick travel? I also have a theory of Abyssal Order using the domains to start charting out plans of attack. That leaves us with two foot work heavy options: investigate the domains and investigate the ley lines connected to the domains. I would suggest the latter first, but who knows what would become of the connected domains. Diluc, cutie–any thoughts?” Lisa explains, gesturing with her hands as she speaks. You see Diluc and The Traveler put on perplexed looks while Paimon shoves her face with food.

“So, that’s why you wanted us to be inside. In case there was anyone following us via domains. I never had encountered something like this before. Tell me, Lisa–how were you able to record such findings?” Diluc asked, The Traveler nodding with interest as well. Lisa nods, turning to Dottore. She then looks back at Diluc.

“Are you able to promise me and the person in question amnesty? Or request Jean give us pardon? Of course, not a *full* pardon, but one to the extent of this research?” Lisa asked. You nodded, starting to understand where this is going. The Traveler begins to take a closer look at Dottore’s getup, leering back as you see her recognize the outfit.  Diluc notes this, his facial expression changing from relaxed to disgruntled. 

“Ah. I make no promises, but will do my best,’ Diluc said. And, with that, Lisa removed the hat from Dottore’s person, placing it back on her head. The room(with the exception of Kaeya) makes a myriad of noises for a reaction. 

“What, what!?? Hasn’t everyone in this room already seen me before? Don’t you want to learn more about this funny business? I sure do, since it’s not something I’ve ever accomplished,” Dottore suggests, gesturing toward the crowd. You see Paimon hide behind Lumine in fear, Diluc already brandishing his claymore.

“Stop with the jokes, Lisa. What’s going on? What does that guy have on you? Explain at once,” Diluc demands, bits of pyro energy flinging off his claymore. Lisa stands, trying to calm the group.

“Now, settle down Diluc. This is originally why I wanted to be in town–in case we needed Jean. Please, control your emotions Diluc. I had to reach out to Dottore to get further confirmation of what was happening. I did put out some trackers near the domains, but I was unable to determine a correlation between data points and the issues we have been having. Levels of elemental activity greatly raise, and match when domains are opened from the inside. Then, the elemental activity sharply declines after the gates close. Dottore has another tracker I had to use in lieu of the ones we own. We owe it to him, sadly, for this intel. While we cannot be 100% sure this isn’t a Fatui plot. We can for certain say someone is tampering with the domains,” Lisa further explains, walking toward Diluc. Her hands gently pat at Diluc’s shoulders. He does not move an inch, still keeping his claymore squarely within his hands.

“I don’t care, sounds like he did this so you had to rely on him. Don’t trust him, Lisa,” Diluc responds, glaring at Dottore. 

“Ah, well, at least the food's nice! I don’t intend on ruining your little encampment, Lisa. Nor do I plan to entertain this child’s temper tantrum. If he wants to feel my scalpel like his brother, he shall,” Dottore said, not helping the situation whatsoever. What happened to just being a distraction for Diluc, to keep his attentions–what the fuck was Dottore pulling here? Diluc is not calmed by Dottore’s words, flames rising from Diluc’s claymore. 

“Don’t. Call me. A child,” Diluc said, his words dripping with hatred. You decide to stand at this point, putting your body between Dottore and Diluc.

“Listen, Diluc saw me use those powers earlier. I. I know there’s something wrong with the domains too! I. I heard voices. I heard things. Like these monsters in the domains are just peo–” you began to explain, but Dottore puts his scalpel right to your throat. You could feel his other arm grip at my arm tightly. You shiver, letting out a shrill scream.  This felt different than the ‘play’ you, Pantalone, and Dottore engaged in earlier. You can feel the sharpness of the blade barely touch your skin. With the slightest bit of pressure, Dottore could end your life. Something about that excites you, but you hide it, trying to show a look of terror on your face.

“Girl, you speak of your powers out of turn ahead, and you will be disposed of,” Dottore said, using his other arm to twist yours. You scream out in pain, The Traveler hopping out of their seat as they glare at Dottore. 

“He’s so evil, what are we going to do Traveler?” Paimon said, still hiding behind Lumine.

“What are your demands?” Lumine asked, her eyes narrowing at him. You gulp; so this was the true part two. If they exchanged the hydro gnosis for yourself, then the plan was successful. 

“My demands are simple. Let us simply work in tandem in making sure the domains are no longer tampered with,” Dottore explained. Wait–what about the Hydro gnosis? You keep your mouth shut, figuring this was just Dottore being Dottore. Your eyes gauge the others' reactions, Diluc’s quieted anger shows. He raises the claymore briefly before hoisting it to his back.

“There’s gotta be something else he wants, no way it’s that simple!? What should we do?!?” Paimon yelled out, holding onto Lumine for dear life. 

“We agree to your demands. But, the minute you harm anyone here or elsewhere, we will have no choice but to fight,” Lumine said, extending a hand toward The Doctor, “Do we have a deal?” Dottore cackles, dropping his weapon as he takes Lumine’s hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you all,” Dottore mutters with a sly smirk. You drop to your knees, exhausted from it all. Was there ever a plan to keep you alive–or were you really just a pawn in all of this? You remain kneeling against the wooden flooring. How were you going to survive such a terrible fate as this? And, what exactly was this whole Domain ordeal being discussed? 

“While there is not an excited bone in my body, I am at least grateful this will keep residents surrounding the domains safe. Be aware, Il Dottore, my eyes will always be fixated on you,” Diluc said, eyes glaring at The Doctor. You watch as Dottore shrugs with a cackle, tilting his head back. You see his eyes turn to the ceiling, seeming to focus on something. 

“And mine will certainly not be on yours, dear boy. I have other, bigger things on my peripheral view,” Dottore notes, raising a gloved hand toward the chandelier directly above him, “Like, where is that Hydro gnosis at?” There it was, bingo. You look to gauge the reactions of everyone, but none change.

“Ah, I see what this is now! Is this all just a ploy for us to spill where the Hydro gnosis is? Tch, tough luck! Like we’d ever tell The Doctor where it was,” Paimon said, turning away as she flutters back to Lumine, “Besides, that isn’t the reason why the domains are acting funky right?” The people in the room all shrug in agreed uncertainty. 

“Well, if we’re counting correctly, Fatui does have 5 of the outstanding seven gnoses . Since this is the first instance of multiple Archons losing them, I am unsure how that would impact other things like domains and such too. I suggest we arrange a party of sorts to begin exploring what exactly is going on. Of course, this would only be safe if Mai is able to control those powers a bit more delicately. If the black matter that shoots off of her body has the ability to remain even in a domain, that will protect us. It will also allow us to investigate the ley lines while we’re at it too. Well, what does the room say? Dottore? Diluc?...Cutie?” Lisa further explains, seeming to gesture with her hands that we would need to dive into the domain to discover what energy the ley line is providing to the domain itself. 

“Oh, Mai’s control of the power is simply divine! I have full trust in her ability to protect us all,” Dottore notes, a smile spread across his face. You nod, feeling a pit grow in your stomach. Was Dottore expecting you to kill them all? Lumine, Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa–in a domain? You gulp at the thought, standing upright and begin pacing. 

“I will do my best,” you said, nervous, “Though I haven’t used this power extensively. I..nevermind.” You want to mention more, but in fear of how Dottore will respond, you shut up. Diluc notes your reaction, nodding before staring at Dottore.

“I can’t say for sure what Mai has going on. From what I witnessed, it appeared to be the power to push objects deep into domains. This issue can only be settled by checking on the domains personally, that I can’t argue, Lisa. Still though, everyone keep your guard up. There’s no telling what we’ll find once we’re in there,” Diluc instructs, gesturing at the food before us, “So be sure to eat your fill.” The group then becomes focused on filling their stomachs.

You take this time to try and figure out what to do. If you went into that domain that contained what appeared to be your mom…could you ask her more about what happened? And what was Dottore’s angle with all of this? In the midst of your thoughts, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn to see The Traveler extending an arm out to you.

“Hey Mai, it’s time to go! Why are you so spacey all of a sudden?” Paimon asked, putting her hands on her hips. You shake your head, getting up with a big stretch upward. You, Dottore, Kaeya, Lisa, The Traveler, Paimon, and DIluc all head out toward one of the domains. 

The group keeps some form of small talk. You note each one of the topics, finding one that stands out.

“So, after trying to kill me, how do you feel now? Killing your only companion able to solve your great mysteries?” Dottore asked. You can tell, with his mask off, he was feeling awfully high of himself. How could he be so cool, calm, and collected–and egg on Diluc?! You remain quiet, walking besides The Traveler as you listen further into their conversation.

“Shut it. You’ll prove equally as useful in the grave, for me at least,” Diluc responds, keeping his focus forward as he quickened his pace. Dottore matches this pace with a loud cackle. In fear of tensions rising, you match their pace, finding The Traveler and Paimon doing much the same.

“Hey guys, we shouldn’t fight! Aren’t we doing some sort of temporary treaty until we figure out what or who's messing with the domains?” Paimon said, flying between Dottore and Diluc. Both men grunt at the appearance of the fairy, looking another direction as they continued onward.

The rest of the group continues to chat about more pleasant things, such as the weather, plans, among other things. You take a moment to take in stock what is to happen. You never entered a domain before in your life. How were you supposed to know what to fix, who to trust–what kind of underlying goal Dottore had? All you could do was put yourself at ease and observe more of the group dynamics.

Your eyes wander over to Lisa and Kaeya, who seemed to be having a lively conversation about Dottore. You were expecting Kaeya to be mad or at least discouraged at his efforts in love. But from the sounds of conversation it was far from it. 

“So, you and him studied together? Really? Our Lisa, in leagues with such villains!” Kaeya said, cackling. You hear Dottore’s foot twist, his entire body walking backwards as he faces us. 

“She can out drink me, too! But I feel that your dear librarian cares more about appearances more than showing true strength,” Dottore said. You feel your brow arch, unsure, confused. What exactly was Dottore’s angle again? 

“Now dear friend, let’s leave the past where it is shall we? I rather we focus more on the task at hand. Look ahead of you,” Lisa said, stopping in her tracks as she pointed yards away. Your eyes follow that finger, tracing it to the same situation as before. Many monsters were bursting at the doors opening, trying to escape. You sigh, feeling nervous. How exactly was this going to work…and what had been Dottore’s true intentions?

“Alright, Mai, do what you do best!” Dottore said, cackling as he stepped aside, “Let us allow the professionals to do what they do best!” You swallow hard. Why was Dottore selling your skillset so hard anyway?  You focus up, fingers feeling the tight, silk fabric of your dress. You feel that same, dark energy shoot through your body. From your fingertips to the domain’s entrance exudes blackness. Lines of darkness extend into the domain, knocking the monsters back properly. Again, so many voices crowd your head. The voices were telling you their biggest regrets, secrets–desires. Was this what elemental energy truly consisted of? 

“Ok, we got them moved. Now let’s try to diagnose the situation,” Diluc said, walking ahead of the crew, “Mai, keep your focus on retaining the creatures from leaving the domain. Everyone else, please stay on your guard. We are entering unknown territory.” The group moves forward, you note the order. Lisa, Kaeya, The Traveler, Paimon, Dottore, and lastly Diluc head toward the cracked domain. Diluc touches the door, opening it to reveal a familiar stone cobbled pavement. You sharply inhale, feeling a strange heat resonate within your velvet black pouch. You bite your lip. You weren’t killing them. You were just…leading them to their deaths. You try your best to keep focus, the monsters from within the domains blocking any further thoughts you could have. 

“Mai, you should be safe to enter now. It seems like things are somewhat normal, though there are a number of abnormalities we shall investigate,” Diluc notices, waving you in. You nod, making a steady pace toward the domain. You feel yourself get more nervous, body becoming hotter by the second. If this was truly the Cyro Archon’s domain, then how? Why are you leading everyone here? You sniffle as you cross the threshold into the domain, your hands instinctively moving to clutch your pearls. The heat that rests in them feels as though it burns through your entire outfit. You hear that disgusting crackling in your head, wanting you to cry out. The voices from before are dulled, as your black tendrils return to the insides of your dress. 

“ Perfect, all as beautifully planned! Now, girl, your part is done. Now all that is left is for the true magic to arise, ” Dottore said, wanting to throw him into the nearest wall. It made no sense why or how Dottore chose what to do next. You find yourself agreeing more to Captiano’s complaints from earlier. How was anyone partnered with such a volatile man supposed to make a plan? Your eyes notice a strange device in both Lisa and Dottore’s hands. They place the devices down onto the cobbled floor, causing both devices to whine out loudly. The two devices appeared to be made from stone. Carved into the stone lay precious gems, one from each region.

“It’s as I feared. It appears it’s  not just the domains shifting. It’s all domains across Teyvet having this issue. A domain once thought to be frozen by the Archon herself…is presented itself to us, here,” Lisa said, pulling the device out of the ground. It shows negative indicators for all elemental energy besides Cyro. Dottore nods to this reasoning. You nod, too. You recall how cold, lifeless your body felt last you entered. You could only imagine what that would appear like for the others. You were blessed with a delusion matched with your regular vision. Would anyone get out of here safely, without you feeling any regret? 

“Woah, maybe that’s why we’re having trouble finding her! Hey, Traveler, what should we do first?” Paimon asked, rubbing her belly, “Paimon’s getting hungry just thinking about all the work I have to do.” You laugh, along with the others. 

“Well, I don’t advise splitting up, that’s for sure. Based on the data alone, us parting further away could result in some of us being in Liyue…others perhaps in Inazuma. So we best be prepared for anything,” Lisa said, “And, Dottore. Please promise me your people will treat us with the same ‘no kill on sight’ that we did to you.” You watch as Dottore cackles, that stiff face livening up with glee.

“ Hah, like we’d even need to at this point, ” Dottore said.

“Oh, no worries! I’m sure we can offer some sort of temporary agreement then. It does not behoove us that one of our most sacred Archons was forced out into such muddy waters. What of the Adventurers that take her as simply a prize to be won, a fight to be had, some artifact to be grinded forevermore!” Dottore said, striking a dramatic pose. The crowd is none impressed as they continue onward, trying to find issues with the domain itself. As the heat from your pearls continues to increase, you feel the general increase in the static that remains in your head. A familiar crackle echoes in your mind.

“ So this is the result of that damned Fatui. We will need to fix this, somehow, ” a voice said, sounding feminine and wise. You turn to The Traveler who turns to you, eyes wide as they seem to hear the voice too. 

“Come along everyone! I believe our Archon rests further in this domain” Dottore said, shrugging as he pointed further along the domain, “Let’s head out this way. Based on the readings of the device, she is likely over here.” You gulp, watching the entire group stand in silence. Dottore tilts his head, chuckling. 

“Is it now you choose to lose your trust? How boring,” Dottore mutters, deciding to move onward on his own, “Don’t dare get lost now!” 

“So, I believe we should follow,” Lisa said, sighing, “Despite how…precarious this is. We must press on.” The group follows shortly after Lisa now, her hands occupied by the strange stone device. As they continue onward, it becomes clearer it is an Archon domain. The temperatures steadily decrease. You feel the cold attack your skin, making you shiver. This feels all too familiar as you stop in your tracks.

“Huh, what’s wrong Mai?” Paimon asked, pausing with the Traveler. You shake your head, dragging your feet as you pick up the pace again. Before you are able to get much further than a few steps, The Traveler screams out.

“No, this can’t…!...Ergh…” Lumine muses, gripping her forehead in pain. She falls to her knees, struggling. You try to gauge what is happening, but only assume it has something to do with the inner monologue communication system.

“ Whoever this is. Traveler. Please fix it. We are in flux. Similar to what occurred when you assisted the Shogun back in Inazuma. ” you hear the voice again. You do not recognize it at all, but The Traveler seems to recall the voice easily. 

“Makoto? Can you tell us who is altering the domains?”  you hear The Traveler ask in your head. You begin to wonder if The Traveler was now shouldering the burden of the communication. Or was it still in your own mind? Either way, the pain was much less than it was near the Ameno Archon statue at the Winery.  You recently did get context of this being one of the Travelers many adventures. You recall how The Traveler somehow traveled through space and time to find Ei, the electro Archon, trying to solve issues within her own domain. Was this a similar situation?

“I t’s tough to say. All I know is, I exist again. I do love being here, seeing my sister. But. We need to get things back in order, before it’s too late, ” Makoto spoke. You were wondering if Dottore could hear this voice too. But you chose to keep this information to yourself, listening on to The Traveler’s and Makoto’s conversation.

The conversation itself is quite lengthy. Makoto goes into detail about how she felt ‘reborn’ after the domains began to shift across Teyvet. As Makoto traveled through the domains, she observed several monsters trying to leave the domains themselves. This intel left you baffled, with a sense that you wouldn’t understand how to relay information, even if  you chose to.

“ So, what can we do to help you Makoto? I am not sure who else can hear you, but we want to save this world! ” Lumine spoke, nodding. The others in the room appear tired, taking seats or lying down on the ground. 

“This feels scary and awful, and all these other bad things Paimon feels right now!” Paimon said, her wings fluttering. Paimon’s short wings gradually descend her body to the ground, falling against the cobbled stone with  a resounding ‘thud’. The others manage to tough it out better, Lisa and Dottore taking a seat while they point their devices toward one another. Others simply lie along their backs, hands covering their ears.

“This pain, I’ve never felt before! I never thought I’d say this, but Paimon's description is most accurate,” Kaeya comments. Lumine looks over at Paimon, concerned as Paimon’s usual words of discomfort are silent. You peak over yourself, noticing the fairy creature is knocked unconscious by an unknown force. Lumine appears most worried about that, reaching out before she hears a blood curdling scream.

“ Traveler, there is something of grave importance we need to discus-s–sis here. You learned–dragons right? Paimon–Tsaritsa’s dragon. Help–before too late ,” Makoto’s voice said, sounding much fainter, “ I–you. I will always be–live you. ”  Your eyes carefully watch the concerned Lumine slowly nod to the words, slowly turning a heel to face the others.

“I suspect, if I do not say anything now, I would up myself from criminal to murderer in your little quaint town. That, and I’m afraid we are stuck until our divine comes and asserts justice,” Dottore said. Your body finds it difficult to move. You place your hands along your hips, using the dark hands to assist you in your trot over to Dottore and Lisa. As you approach, you smell something burning. 

“ Girl, do not forget to play your part. Grab that delusion, ” you hear Dottore speak inside of your mind. You hated it, but slipped your hand from your waist into the silk pouch. Every touch felt like touching molten lava. But, with how cold it was getting, it did serve to keep you warm. You feel power begin to rush along your body, a light white glow emitting every limb.

“As usual, another Fauti trick. I’m excited to listen when you explain this one to Jean, honestly. I want to be personally present for that conversation,” Diluc said, sneering as he sneaks glances at Lisa from the stone floor. Lisa returns the snide look with her own smugness, gently placing her stone tool on the ground. After, she crosses her arms, looking over at Diluc. Diluc’s red hair is spread across the stone flooring. The red head seems to be breathing with labored  breathing, sweat dripping from his head. Despite how relaxed Diluc’s tone was, his body appeared quite the opposite. 

“It appears your mission is approaching completion, miss Lisa! What a strange place for tea, too,” a voice speaks from nowhere. You are surprised to see that everyone can hear this one, each individual providing varied reactions to said voice.

“What is going on, why is there a…floating tea cup?” Kaeya asked, voice slurred. Small trickles of blood drip from his head, as if something came dangerously close to cutting his skin from bone. 

“Don’t bother to understand, Kaeya. It appears multiple groups are pooling efforts to fix this situation. You’re part of the Hxenzirkel, correct?” Diluc asked, his voice straining the longer he went on. The floating teacup begins to giggle. Was this what hell was like–or just a means to complicate things? 

“Ahh, I have never had the pleasure to have tea with your lot often, hmm? MayI have your name, or at least, your calling card?” Dottore said, gesturing toward the cup. Ornate, with piping hot  tea inside, the contents of the cup sloshing as it lowers. 

“Ah yes, very well! I will consent, as you are helping Lisa in this task! But, before formalities, I suggest you manage the issue at hand as soon as it comes.I believe after–” the cup says, but the steam begins to dissipate. The once heated tea appears to cool down quickly, the others groaning in response.

“So…cold. Even as a Cyro user, this is hardly. Livable,” Kaeya muses, grinding his teeth to bare with the cold. Diluc manages to barely lift his claymore, brandishing it around a couple of times to reveal Pyro bird creations. This results in brief heat that is immediately snuffed out. 

“We need to keep everyone warm, quickly!” Lumine shouts, focusing elemental energy in her palm. A small fire shows within her hands, quickly moving it over to the three on the ground(Kaeya, Diluc, and Paimon). 

“Tsk tsk, she appears to be in a particularly sour mood today,” muses Dottore, “Unsure if I can promise the whole ‘no kill on sight’ thing.” The group lets out a collective sigh, but focuses on remaining warm. You notice Paimon is still unconscious, and with the lack of idle chatter, the silence sticks. There is nothing else to note, besides the occasional beep from the two stone devices. 

“If it is the Cyro gnosis causing this level of dysfunction, would the Cyro Archon be open to removing it from the domain?” Lumine wonders aloud, exchanging looks with the group. You shrug, Dottore chuckles, and Lisa similarly laughs.

“It has been a-many years since we had a situation like this occur. Many moons ago, Archons used to schedule something similar to protests. If an Archon found Celestia’s action or lack thereof unacceptable, they would force Celestia’s hand by causing the domains to flicker like this. Monster activity greatly increased in these areas. This resulted in several issues. The main issue was the widespread increase in human fatality. The ecosystem of Teyvat was soon thrown for a loop. Worst of all, it led to many helpless individuals. Some even tried praying to the Seven as a collective whole. But little do most common folk know, it would be up to Celestia to determine the path forward. Now–the last time this occurred with the old Hydro Archon–she went the less aggressive route. Surely some folks were dissolved and never to return from the primordial sea water. But not nearly as many fatalities as what our issue is today. Huh, I don’t quite fancy cold tea,” the voice went on. The room sits in pensive quiet this time, everyone having perplexed looks on their faces. Diluc was beginning to look  better for wear, but the sweat increased on him tenfold.

“Oh dearie, it appears the Cyro Archon fears you as the greatest threat. Had it not been for my presence, you would have died twice over. Dear Mai–care to place that object onto this man’s chest to prevent him from freezing?” the voice spoke once again. Lumine quickly rushes over to inspect DIluc in particular, eyes scanning over her friend. You gulp, nodding as you are careful to hold your silk pouch. It glows a slight yellow tinge from the heat of your delusion.

“I-I don’t know if I could live peacefully knowing Fatui technology saved me,” Diluc mutters, “But I suppose now isn’t the time for splitting hairs.” You are anxious, slowly lowering the pearl in its container along Diluc’s stomach. The delusion heats up further upon connection, Diluc grunting at the sensation.  Your eyes stay keen for any signs of burning or injured skin. Nothing of interest shows after this point, Diluc’s grunt lessening over time.

“Ah, but dearie, you haven’t answered the question. What are we to hold your word for, stranger without a name? Or, rather, teacup with no heat?” Dottore asked, stroking his chin like some sort of scientist. 

“It is as I foretold you in Fontaine, Lumine. But unfortunately for you, there is no Opera Epiclese. No Jade Chamber, no private chambers such as other Archons in the past. The final Archon you have to meet, seeks neither logic or reason. She is the truest embodiment of what humans like to call love. But the love she expresses, shares, believes in may not look like the love you recognize. Recall–the Heavenly Principles have foretold many stories and prophecies so far. It is your unique perspective that is to assist in this final, harrowing meeting,” the woman spoke, Lumine’s eyes widening.

“So, you’re ‘N’ I take it?” Lumine asked, another charming giggle escaping the teacups lips. Wisps of heat leave the cup once more, the amount gradually lowering once more. Dottore nods at the name, making a mental note of the woman’s name.

“Well, as I don’t want your tea to become cold again, Miss N, let’s keep further responses shorter. Now, we are unsure of what tools can assist with this meeting. We also have some lesser powered Vision holders who may also suffer negatively from being here much further. If it is not to much to as–” LIsa began to speak. The interruption came with slow, unsteady steps. Clutching the glowing yellow bag to his chest, Diluc coughs several times.

“I refuse to back down in Mondstandt’s time of need. Even if this Archon particularly dislikes me, I rather it be me than an entire region. However, Kaeya, he may not be best suited for this mission,” Diluc said, his eyes scanning over his brother. Kaeya, although he appeared fine at surface level,  Kaeya is likely suffering from similar issues as Diluc. Kaeya’s face was clear of sweat, but frost was beginning to settle along his body. Shaky, white breath exits his lips. 

“Don’t think of me as some liability, Diluc. If I held any other Vision, maybe this would be a struggle. But this sensation is making me stronger, if anything,” Kaeya notes, gradually standing at his feet as well. The crowd then looks toward’s Paimons cold, lifeless body. Lumine holds the flame close to Paimon’s body, watching small pieces of frost dry off. However, a Cyro symbol appears along Paimon’s forehead. 

“Aaa, when you’re done warming the little one, can I get some more heat for my cuppa, dear Lumine?” the voice said, teeth grinding, “Ooo, does this mistress like it cold!” Diluc rolls his eyes at the woman speaking, still unmoving from the ground. The delusions container continues to glow a faint yellow. Lumine nods to the voice's words, eyes fixated on her travel companion.

“Please. Anything to get rid of…these memories. Fill my mind with food and smiles, dear friend. So I never have to recall…such injustice,” Paimon mumbles, curling up closer to the warmth in Lumine’s hands. The entire group listens in, exchanging concerned glances. Lumine remains calm, keeping the flame steady as she tries to discern more of Paimon’s  words.

“Oh my, what great…delicious food. Mmm–mental decay isn’t real. I’ll still have critical thoughts. As long as I have you!” Paimon said, seeming to pick up right after her words from before. 

“Paimon, an Archon’s companion. Heh, if I hadn’t known you two intimately, I would say Paimon’s place is…” Kaeya said, wincing before he is able to finish his sentence. Diluc immediately pulls himself forward. One hand is used to hold your delusion while the other gradually pulls up closer to Kaeya.  Once the two are closer, Diluc grumbles at Kaeya. 

“Ugh, you’re becoming a liability as you speak!” Diluc comments, “If it weren’t for circumstances, I would be the one to see you out personally.” The ground briefly shakes, the feeling of cold seeming to pool into one side of the room. You feel that chill like you did once before. It makes your body feel helpless, idle. Your eyes gleam from the others they feel the same way, arms wrapped around themselves.

“Which is why, save the cursed witches and babysitters, you would have been ice and dust by now. Speak of your business at once, humans,” a cold, petrifying voice spoke. Everyone brandishes their weapons, trying to figure out where the source of the voice is coming from. Lumine screams shortly after. 

“T-T-This isn’t possible. No other Ar–” Lumine began, but was already interrupted by the slowly flying Paimon. Or was it Paimon at all, based on Lumine’s reaction? 

“Silence. Answer the question as you have done with Archon’s past. I know of your notoriety, Lumine. Your struggles. And your brother. And you will find no answers unless you provide the same respect as you have given other Archons,” Paimon’s mouth voices, her voice not sounding like her at all. The others in the room gasp, even the teacup.

“Well, I’d hate to finish this tea cold, but I shall! It appears the Archon only wants to hear from the humans. Toddles, and best of luck,” the teacup said, there one moment. And, with a blink of an eye–gone.

Chapter Text

“Well, dear Archon, something is going on with the domains. So far, all we know is that monsters are getting out of them somehow and leaving them open. Do you know how many casualties this will cause? We are unsure if the other domains in other territories are behaving similarly, but are afraid of the worst-case scenario. Can we please discuss you moving your current lair somewhere else?” Diluc spoke. You watch as he struggles to stand on his feet, holding onto your delusion. Even in a high stress situation like this, Diluc was straightforward as always. You gulp, nervous, knowing full and well how powerful the Archon before you truly was. Lisa and Dottore adjust their stone devices, pointing both of them at Paimon. The stone below the Cyro symbol glows a deep azure. 

“There’s no denying it either–you are the Cyro Archon. As a fellow human myself, I’d hate to be left to destitute. Tell me, what is the endgame with the gnosis you collected from us and others? Dottore hasn’t informed me of much, but I figure asking you would be the best way,” Lisa said, a small ball of electricity forming in her hands. Dottore laughs at Lisa, rolling his eyes. Paimon laughs too, though it sounds wrong. The usual, chipper laughter is replaced by a wicked voice. The others in the room remain silent, ears open to the Cyro Archon. The Cyro symbol on Paimon’s head glows a certain azure before turning a deep red.

“There’s nothing left here to defend. You humans, a dime a dozen. Why should I waste my deep feelings of care when Celestia no longer hears our calls? When, despite everything, Celestia still refuses to heed our powers, warnings…desires?” Paimon answered. 

The ground begins to shake, the cobblestone below separating to show grass. You steady yourself against the ground, reaching out toward Lumine. Lumine is quick to extinguish the flame in her hand, rushing toward you with a possessed Paimon in hand.

“What Focalors has done and said proves that we must make our own, beautiful future. If Celestia refuses to move their watchful eye to see all the shades of Teyvat, we remove the world of all light,” Paimon said. You gulp–Paimon’s never that serious or deep. It was beginning to jar you and likely others. 

“Focalors died for her original sin. Don’t twist this into something it isn’t, please! All we are asking is some help fixing the domains. We won’t pursue you unless you plan to hurt the ones we love,” Lumine explained, using two hands to hold the flying Paimon. Paimon releases a ground shaking, ear aching shrill laugh. 

“And when I asked for the humans to speak, this alien here believes they are human? A traveler throughout space and time, you decide to pick this doomed now as your future? You are able to leave at any time, though, I feel like you are missing your brother too greatly for that .Well, would you like to see your brother, Lumine?” Paimon asked. You step closer toward Lumine, standing besides her as the possessed Paimon stares down with a wicked smirk. You look back toward Lumine, the traveler stuck in a state of confusion. Of all the travelers Lumine had spoken about, this may be the first where she was offered to see her brother. You take a moment to observe the others around you. Dottore appears as unbothered as ever, smirking at the sight of his leader. Your eyes are then drawn to Kaeya, the newly revealed grass starting to overtake the Knight’s figure. 

“Don’t fall for it, Lumine! That joke of an Archon, she wants you to, nhhhn!” Kaeya said, trying to snap the Lumine out of her moment of weakness. It was then you could hear it, the sizzle of ice–the cold burning into Kaeya’s body. Diluc comes quickly to assist, falling to his knees as he struggles to keep his brother warm. You note Lisa has not moved much, simply conducting a small ball that was starting to become larger. You wonder if Lisa was thinking of a sneak attack. That, or taking Dottore as a hostage. This was far from the ‘no kill’ policy reference earlier. If they were lucky, they would leave with full limbs. But, right now…

“The alien Lumine must remain quiet for the remainder of talks. Humans–Lisa, Kaeya, and Diluc. Make your case as to why I shouldn’t wreck upon this world a destruction for the ones sacrificed?” Paimon spoke, flying out of Lumine’s hold with ease. You watch, a familiar static feeling in your ears. You bite your lip.

“ Hah, do you see now, girl? This is the beauty of Fatui, ” Dottore said, your head aching with a certain pain. It was even worse than the first time. 

“ It is up to you and The Traveler to save the current situation. Time is still in flux, and it’s dependent on you to fix that!” Makoto said, “ The Cyro Archon is hiding behind her feelings, her pain. If I know anyone that can convince an Archon to be honest and fair–it’s you, Lumine. ” Lumine nods, tears slowly crawling down her face. The humans focus their efforts in speaking with the Cyro Archon. 

“Here’s a thought. Let me out of whatever trap this is. And then, we all have some nice beverages to accompany the talks,” Kaeya said. The Cyro Archon laughs, crossing her arms similarly to Paimon does when upset. 

“You think you can bribe me with drinks and food? Hah, unlike Paimon, food does not sway my thoughts as easily. Besides, that ‘trap’ as you referenced, it is fixing the anomalies within your Vision. Soon, you’ll have access to your full power. But, once that sets in, you will no longer be you. You see, your Vision is special, Kaeya. Your Vision holds the truth of what occurred before the cataclysm. I gave it to you since, of all humans and human-like creatures, you are the most neutral,” Paimon explained. But, things continue to be confusing, even for you. Lumine approaches Paimon again, tears in eyes.

“Don’t you dare turn Kaeya into a. A…” Lumine spoke, afraid of what would happen due to her words.

“Ah, Alien girl is speaking again. Oh, please do, continue. What exactly would I be turning Kaeya into? Or are you still left unconvinced by how Celestia has betrayed its people and its Gods?” Paimon said, her voice switching back to her original inflection, “Traveler, there isn’t much time left! The Cyro Archon and I have history. And, if whatever remains of my memories is correct–she’s gonna do awful things  if we let her leave this domain!” This causes a few different confused looks to be shared–you even see bewilderment on Dottore’s face. 

“Wait…this isn’t our Cyro Archon. M’lady, do you–” Dottore tried to introduce, but Paimon just continued to laugh.

“Of course I am not the one you know. I am the one that came before–the last bit of sanity before I indulge in the decadence in summoning the Holy Principles with my actions,” Paimon spoke, closing her eyes, “Now if only this pesky host would answer or follow my beck and call.” Now, this was bad.

“ What was that about the beauty of this place? About– ” you begin to reply to Dottore, words dripping with sarcasm. You don’t get a reply at all, rather, a mischievous laugh aloud from Dottore. 

“Ah, that is a bucket list item of mine. I’m unsure of what this means for time,” Dottore said, bowing toward Paimon, “But it appears that our plans are in full swing.” Great–more nonsense you knew nothing about. And more of The Doctor dodging every question or quip you had.

“Well, let me ask a question you seem open to answering. Kaeya’s vision–you mentioned it being special. How so?” Diluc asks, coughing up a wad of blood along the cold cobblestone. His body is arched over his brother, as if meant to protect Kaeya. You take this time to focus in closer on Kaeya’s vision. You see that his Vision does look odd for most. And, with bits of frost growing from each spiked tip, spreading along his body. The first was barely stopped by Diluc, pulsating fie every second to keep the cold from succumbing to his brother’s body.

“Special in that, against all odds, it is the only recording device that was able to document history. The Archon War. The cataclysm,” the Archon spoke, flying down to…your side?!! You inhale sharply. Was it now that your cover would be blown? And how exactly did tech that far back do such astonishing work?

“Girl, I trust you recall our agreement?” The Cyro Archon asked, glaring at you with Paimon’s face. But it was as if you could see that cold, emotionless face through Paimon’s. You could feel the room all stare at you. And, in the midst of the thoughts, you are even uncertain of the deal. Until it strikes you from memory. 

“ Know this, girl: Your mission’s objective is to provide information to your sponsors Pantalone, Dottore, and Sandrone. This is understood, yes? ” the words are said, garbled but there. A small hologram of the actual Cyro Archon shows, as well as a frozen you. You gulp, taking slow steps back. You were outed as a traitor, now of all times! You struggle to even look at your friends, Lumine shaking her head in disapproval. 

“I…” you mumble, unsure of what to say. This spy work hurts, cuts like a knife when it comes to pulling back your mask.You hear Diluc laugh first, the rest answering with resounding shocked noises. 

“Is this true, Mai? If that’s even your name,” Diluc spoke, grumbling as he uses the delusion to keep himself and Kaeya warm. Dottore simply…ignores everything!? His eyes seem fixated on the stone device. Great–what a time for him to choose to be silent. 

“This isn’t time to doubt her! Please, I beg of you Archon…show me my brother,” Lumine said, approaching Paimon carefully. Paimon’s body scoffs, the Cyro symbol on Paimon’s head glowing red.

“Fine. I will offer you this one respite, alien. But know this. Once the truth has been shown, it is your duty to investigate and share as needed. Otherwise, well, you’d make a pretty interesting ice statue,” Paimon said, laughing as she flies over and taps several places on Kaeya’s delusion. Kaeya screams as this is done, more blood dripping along his waist.

“Who knew…I’d become so important,” Kaeya said, inhaling deeply. As Kaeya exhales, he coughs up blood along the cobblestone floor. Diluc tries to check on Kaeya, but Paimon flies over with a wicked laugh.

“It is ok, Diluc. Once you have seen the truth for all that it is, you will reconsider your stance with Fatui,” Paimon spoke, the glowing red Cryo symbol slowly dissipating into Paimon’s skin. Paimon’s body falls back to the ground soon after, Lumine checking all over her travel buddy’s body.

“Paimon! Paimon! Speak to me, Paimon!” Lumine screams, before heading a chuckle. The voice was masculine, as a short blond human appears on the screen. You gulp–was this..? Your eyes turn to Lumine, whose eyes become glued to the projection as she hands pat the unconscious Paimon. The others in the room scoot closer in.

“ So, this is the world my sister and I have found ourselves in? One where the Gods do not care for its people, and the Archons they created in their image fail miserably at containing the messes. How pitiful. How…weak. How infuriating! ” Aether(as Lumine refers to him) said, slamming what appears to be furniture across a room.

“ Oh, do calm down, you. I only told you this place’s history for you to make your own conclusions. You see, your sister will serve as– ” Dottore shows, looking much different than he does now. He wears a different mask, more suitable to his clownish actions. His red eye beams out from one end, the other obscured by his mask. His blue hair is shorter, too. The man had been lying to Lumine about her brother–figures. The audio heard seems (purposely) garbled. 

“Why don’t you just go up there!? Demand better everything? It makes me upset, of all the planets I’ve traveled, this one is…” Aether mumbles, taking a seat on a nearby bed. Dottore comes to join Aether, wrapping an arm securely along his waist. You take note of the grumbling Lumine is making, brandishing her dull sword at Dottore.

“Uh, no kill policy, right?” Dottore said, an awkward smile flashing along his face. You watch as Lumine slams her sword down, pushing it away from herself. You make note of how the ball of electricity is still within Lisa’s hands, her body fully facing the hologram presented from Kaeya’s vision. Dottore is facing the hologram, too, with smugness written all over his face.

“ So my sister’s a…control? In this experiment you want to run? ” Aether asked, a look of confusion spread across his face. Lumine crosses her arms, watching the ongoings of the past.

“ Ah, indeed! She should be dropped off by Mondstandt any day now. For good measure we’ve wiped her memory and left her with our Archon’s pet, Paimon. Paimon’s memory– ” Dottore spoke once more, but the audio became mixed and garbled again. 

“Hmm, quite the interesting story unfolding here. It appears Il Dottore has been lying to our faces most of today. But, that’s besides the point. We need to get Kaeya and Paimon back to the city for healing,” Lisa states, “And for transparency stake. I am channeling energies through the ley lines to review the validity and construction of the hologram. It has proven useful. So far, just garbled from the age of the recording.” 

The room nods, Diluc approaching the screen. You notice as his eyes wander down toward Kaeya, a worried look on his face. Diluc kneels down, stroking Kaeya’s face. You can hear some faint whispers, but you are unable to make them out.

“Well? It appears we have almost finished our business here. The conclusion I have come to find with the domains is likely in alignment with your Librarian. The Archons are terrible guides in this world for Teyvet. In place of said Archons, perhaps we need a different leading body. One with more of a humanistic approach,” Dottore said, a grin on his face. Your eyes turn to Lisa, who slowly dissipates the ball of electricity in hand. She stands to her feet, wiping stray bangs away from her eyes.

“While Dottore’s comments are incredibly biased, I do find agreement in something he is saying. The Archons do appear, for lack of a better word, ignorant. Since cutie’s brother is clearly involved in all of this, I think we use that to our advantage. Dottore, you clearly know him. Do not deny that fact. We all see what occurred. Is there any way we could have them reunite? Finish this absurd experiment of sorts,” Lisa asked. The room then turns all eyes to Dottore, who takes on a pensive look.

“Hmm. Well, this is the best place to meet him. However, with the injuries we have suffered,” Dottore mutters aloud, Diluc letting out a loud huff.

“I will care for the injured. Traveler, do you trust me to take care of Paimon for you?” Diluc said, picking up Kaeya and slinging him across one shoulder. You can hear Kaeya let out another cough, the sound of blood splattering to the ground.

“Tch, brother. Always…bothersome. I am fine, really. It’s just. It feels like the Vision is searing into my skin.” Kaeya said, coughing between every few words. Kaeya’s vision now becomes stuck, like taffy, to skin. The harder Diluc pulled, the louder Kaeya’s shrieks became.

“Tch, brother. Bothersome and a liar. Don’t lie–we’ve trusted The Traveler before and can trust them again now. And, our best librarian should know enough about Il Dottore to keep him in check,” Diluc says, managing to patch up Kaeya’s wound surrounding his waist. With a fluid swipe, Kaeya rests firmly against Diluc’s back. 

“We’ll need more than a medic at this point! It appears that the Vision is finally reaching its true potential. You do know who passed that down to you?...Cabriet.” Dottore said, taking steps toward Diluc and Kaeya. Diluc turns around, grumbling, not wanting Dottore to start more chaos.

“I, I will take care of Paimon. Just like she has done for me. No one mention anything about what we learned today to Paimon, ok? It may knock Paimon back out when she wakes up,” Lumine explained. The Traveler makes a makeshift sling from some extra cloth, placing the sleeping Paimon within it. Diluc nods, preparing to make his departure. He finishes his final preparations and walks over to the group once more.

“One moment. Lisa, Dottore–you mentioned the domains shifting correct? How am I to trust that I will get home safe and in Mondstandt and not in, say, Inazuma?” Diluc asked. Dottore and Lisa exchange glances before turning their stone devices around. Not a single bit of elemental energy reads. All the stones remain without a single twinkle of light.

“It appears that the significant event has passed. Though, I’d worry more about the boy on your shoulder. Doesn’t matter where you show–you have an injured person in tow. I say take the risk!” Dottore said, Lisa rolling her eyes at him.

“What Dottore means to say is, no matter where you end up, you should seek medical help. Send a letter to Jean from wherever you come, to inform and confirm the current issues with domains. I will also write up my own report as well. It seems like the Adventurer Guilds across Teyvat will have plenty of requests for domain observation and exploration. So, please, get some assistance with Kaeya. If possible, it may behoove us to have an alchemist like Albedo or Surcorse. If you end up in Mondstandt that is…hmm. I am unaware of any–” Lisa explained, but Lumine was already writing out different people across Teyvat. She walked up to DIluc, explaining the different quirks for each place and person of contact. 

“Heh, way to be useful. I’m just taking up space up here, huh…” Kaeya speaks, his words gravely. Diluc shakes his head at Kaeya, nodding as he accepts the note from Lumine with his other gloved hand. 

“Well, that almost sums things up. Kaeya and Diluc are to get medical help and report to Jean. I will write my own report to Jean. And the remainder of us will continue through the domain?” Lisa asked, rising different responses from all. Dottore appeared excited to continue, but the others less so.

“How long do you think it will take, Lisa? I am worried about Paimon. This is the first time she’s ever…no. I’ve ever put her in actual danger,” Lumine said, watching the sleeping Paimon from her sling.

“It’s hard to say. ‘N’ appeared to leave the moment the Archon arrived. I assume what power she does have, that was enough to steer her away,” Lisa explained. You nod, hoping that this issue will soon resolve itself. But, as Kaeya belts out a painful scream, the room suddenly drops into a strange darkness. The ground below your feet appears to dissolve, your eyes being overcome with a certain darkness. And, as you wonder where things will go next, a voice calls out to you. It’s soothing, soft, almost fatherly. A faint mixture of dark brown and gold flash, followed by a crystal fly. 

“Follow my every step, and you will find resolution. As I did with Azdaha, we must smolder the Tsaritsa in the only language she understands clearly: love. And that particular Archon’s ideals of love are to be fair, logical. Evident-based. Exacting. Harsh. But, well meaning. Shall we begin the process of saving this time flux, Traveler....and you, quiet stranger?” a voice speaks softly in your mind. The typical headache that pervades your mind fades, allowing you to focus more on the task at hand. Amid the darkness you see a slender man dressed in a white hooded cloth. Along the edges are warm colors, of browns and shining gold. You hope this man, likely another Archon, will help you here.

Chapter Text

“Follow my every step, and you will find resolution. As I did with Azdaha, we must smolder the Tsaritsa in the only language she understands clearly: love. And that particular Archon’s ideals of love are to be fair, logical. Evident-based. Exacting. Harsh. But, well meaning. Shall we begin the process of saving this time flux, Traveler....and you, quiet stranger?” a voice speaks softly in your mind. The typical headache that pervades your mind fades, allowing you to focus more on the task at hand. Amid the darkness you see a slender man dressed in a white hooded cloth. Along the edges are warm colors, of browns and shining gold. You hope this man, likely another Archon, will help you here. You wonder if you are in a similar state to when you first visited the Tsaritsa. Your eyes note the utter darkness the two of you seem to float in. The Traveler–unable to be seen. 

“Where are we, sir? And..who are you,” you ask, nervous, gulping as you take steps back into the darkness. In a flurry of geo crystal flies, he appears in front of you, a smug smile on his face. He releases a relaxed sigh, kneeling toward you. You kneel too, unsure of this situation.

“Oh, how long it’s been since I heard those words. Especially in my old Archon garbs. I prefer to go by the name Zhongli. And, I believe the name you prefer these days–Mai is it?” Zhongli said, extending a hand out toward you. You take that hand, gulping, nervous. Yet another Archon you had to meet and somehow win the word gymnastics on which “side” you were on. Your head nods toward Zhongli, taking his hand into yours. You feel a jolt of pain rush up your arm, causing you to wince. You begin to cry out in pain, your cries echoing across the boundless darkness. Your eyes struggle to focus, bouncing between endless darkness and the silhouette of the Traveler. 

“Mai! Mai, wake up, please…oh no, I don’t think she’s…wait, we have a pulse!” Il Dottore shouts, the sound echoing in your head. The man from before fades from existence, the name the only thing remaining in your mind. Your eyes adjust to a new room, one not made of cobblestone. The floors are sleek and covered in a variety of different monster bits. 

“Heh, any longer and I think cutie and I may have hit a personal best for defeated enemies,” Lisa said, wiping her hands off, “How is she, Dottore?” 

“Strangely stable for knocking out cold. It was like that scream in Kaeya triggered something within you. Please, tell me what you saw,” Il Dottore begged, interest all across his face. You shake your head, trying to play it off. And there it was static–but no pain?

“ Ah, as expected from our lovely novice spy. Now, tell me, what happened? Kaeya passed out at the same time as you,” Dottore speaks to you using the internal monologue system. Dottore takes his time to lift you up in his arms. You relax in them, sighing. You hoped that this domain would slow down–or at the very least–fix itself. 

“The enemies lessened some when Diluc was able to get Kaeya out of here. However, they completely disappeared when Mai woke up. I wonder…if Kaeya and Mai are somehow linked?” Lumine wondered aloud, pulling out a notepad to write on. Dottore shakes his head with a laugh, squeezing you in his arms. 

“Pure coincidence my dear! Perhaps the enemies in these domains especially like Cyro users?” Dottore suggests with a yawn.

“Dottore. You are a Cyro user. By that log–” Lisa tried to reprimand, but it failed. Dottore proceeds to tut at the other.

“Not all hypotheses are at their final stage during inception, fellow Scholar,” Dottore said, walking about. You try to focus more on the area around you. You are currently on a sleek, circular platform. Behind you had been a series of walkways, all appearing to have some pattern or maze to it. But, in front, lay a tree. It appeared to grow impossibly long roots, with a full set of leafs along its branches. How were trees growing in domains? And, why did the entire group start walking over?  

“Now, I know everyone here is fairly brave. But we may find some rather shocking information from the ley line ahead. No matter what, we can’t stop until we find a way to fix domains,” Lisa explained, climbing the stairs that led up to the tree. Lumine follows closely after, with Dottore carrying you up last.  You notice Lisa immediately pull out the same stone tool from before, sticking the antenna sticking out from the top into the ground below. All of the crystals briefly glow, before slowly fading until a single, russet crystal glows brown.

“From Cyro to Geo, huh. It may be going by historical precedence,” Lisa mutters to herself, as well as other terms you can’t begin to comprehend. Dottore joins in the banter, handing you off to the Traveler. Once your skin connects with Lumine’s, there’s the static from before but much less head pain.

“ Sorry to leave you hanging like that, but it was important for you to meet Zhongli. He claimed you had some sort of pestilence along your arm when he tried channeling earlier. With what remaining power he had, he cleared whatever curse Fatui had laid on you. I don’t understand what your goals are right now or how you feel. But. I would appreciate your help. If not, there’s still the offer with my friend called Xingling. It would need to be after all this is over. ” Lumine explained, seeming to have gained the same power Dottore experimented to use on you. You wonder–did Dottore…? No. He hadn’t the tools, time, or  motive. You inhale sharply, trying to think of a reply. Before you can answer, you hear screams from Lisa. 

Lumine quickly places you against the tree, rushing to check Lisa’s status. You manage to turn your head to see a bloodied hand Lisa, tears streaming from her eyes. Dottore remains silent–as if not fully excited about the findings. Dottore appeared unharmed, which meant…blood? From a tree? 

“This is…how…why…” Lumine cries out, clutching Paimon close to her chest. You manage to gradually scoot over, wondering what the others are  in shock about. Your eyes immediately lock with the pool of blood, seeing what appeared to be a collection of severed heads. One that seems to pique the most interest is close to Lisa’s fingers, her hand trembling as she places a head back down.

“Time is up, my dear comrades. It is either join us, or fight us,” Dottore said, immediately pulling out a scalpel, “You see yourself now what needs to be done. We must take down Celestia at any cost.” Lisa and Lumine continue to cry close to the beheaded heads, none of which appear too familiar to you.  Above the heads reads, “Judgment has been served” in bloodied writing, with a number of heads placed neatly besides one another. One does spark interest, and looks similar to the statue in Mondstandt. It appeared to be a person with a very soft face, with long black hair with green tips. Their green eyes stand out, but are faded. The lips are deathly pale, with whatever garbs the head is still wearing appearing to be thousands of years old. The cloth hat appeared ready to disintegrate at any moment. Though, now that you mentioned it, all the heads appeared familiar to the Archons Lumine mentioned on their travels. And, with that in mind, you lose your lunch Diluc spent so much time making. The sound of your puking brings no shame to the others, in fact, they pat you along the back as you lurch. 

“T-This means…” Lisa said, her breathing shaky, “T-T-The implications…”

“The implications of being so lazy, so uninterested, that they let Archons choose their appearances off of actual humans? So tired, so boring,” Dottore said, yawning, “Unless, you know. Got something more useful to say.” You grumble at Dottore, trying to stand but falling to your feet. Your eyes turn to Lumine, eyes filled with tears. 

“I, I…” Lumine spoke, but the words just kept repeating, “I…” You hear a group cackle from not too far off, forcing you off your rump and toward the noise. You see a group of four in the distance. One is a slender, tall lady. Three shorter children crowd her, the one wearing the top hat waving toward Lumine. 

“Hey, looks like we were late for the big reveal, huh?” the boy said, scratching the back of his head, “Names Lyney! Eh, you’ll meet the family at some point Mai. But now…we need to talk about optics.” 

Chapter Text

Continuation of the flashback in Chapter 18 (Change in PD)

“I was on the fence about the arranged marriage with dear Ajax. But now–you’ve gone and traumatized both of these kids and sentenced their parents to death! Parentless with unknown powers of the Abyss rushing through their veins. This blood is on your hands now, Fania,” the man spoke. You don’t stop your advances. The tome lowers, just a few  centimeters above your hand. 

You nod toward the Tome.  Voices emerge from the Tome, whispering  of power and great intrigue. Why was it hesitating so close to your hand? The moment you move your hand, it moves up ever so slightly. There is a tutting sound you can hear. Amid the screams. Amid the bloodshed. The voices were helping you focus, relax. 

“What an impeccable child you are. Brave, no fear, desperate to make this deal sealed. But–your partner–what of him? He may die. He’s too skittish. See? He just threw up his lunch. A weakling. Shall we find a better partner, my dear?” The Tome spoke. You shake your head ‘no’. The Tome raises up further, seeming to face you, open book. On the opened page appears a creature with a mask on. Dotted lines make up a circular shape around the masked being. Each dotted line proceeded to lift off the page. Each piece grew brighter as they were peeled off the parchment.

“I don’t like this…why can’t I remember your name?!? What’s going on? Why are those two covered in blood…” Ajax spoke, scared, curling himself up into a ball. The Tome cackles, a witchy-esque voice audible. 

“Ah, he’s still a child. One of these days I will have intense training with him And, if proven worthy, he will return just as bloodlusted as you are.” The Tome spoke. What exactly did the book mean by ‘bloodlusted’? You tilt your head, shrugging. 

“Bloodlusted? Is that like a…weird thing? I don’t get it,” you respond. It was confusing. And, honestly, you counted your blessings here. You and Ajax lived. Only the adults would die. But how many? And why?...And what did Bloodlusted mean? The Tome cackles again, moving further and further into the sky. The red lines arrange themselve into a circle, seeming to go into your head rather than on. You cough as it makes contact with you. The voices were gone and exchanged for intense pain. You cry out. Each cry echoes across the icy sea–a cacophony of pain and dislike. It is then you feel a warm, soft arm wrap around your figure. You continue to scream, the pain no less.

“H-Hey. I said I forgot your name. What is it?” Ajax asked, seeming upset. You turn your head, scoffing at the boy.  You attempt to mock Ajax but fail to. The stinging feeling of the red strips were unbearable. 

“Ok, fine. I’ll t-tell you. On one condition: You share this pain with me,” you said, managing to quell the pain long enough to use words. You can feel Ajax shift, observing your features with his eyes. You turn a bit more, nodding. Ajax looks confused, but his eyes then focus on your face. He leans in, gently tapping his forehead along your own. You take Ajax’s hands into your own, huffing. The sensation of all those red lines slowly fades. Ajax remains quiet. You couldn’t tell if Ajax had a higher pain tolerance or knew how to keep a straight face. 

“Name…?” Ajax asked. You could see a slight difference in his azure blue eyes. They appeared more determined–confident. You smile at this. In return, Ajax smiles. 

“The new girl,” you said. Ajax laughs at this, shifting his head into your lap. 

“No, that can’t be it. Who has a kid and thinks–hmm, the new girl sounds nice,” Ajax mutters. You laugh in response. How could he have forgotten your name? It was easy. It was something he knew. 

“Don’t act like that, Ajax. You know my name,” you reply, reaching down to pet the boy’s hair.

“But what if I really don’t? I swear, when those–er–. Whatever. I just forgot it the moment that thing grabbed my hair. So, please, just tell me!” Ajax said, seeming frustrated but  comfortable on your lap. How much weaker would Ajax get, become? Sure he had training to undergo at some point. And maybe he would fare well. But, for now, you needed to get him excited. Something tells you if Ajax remains the way he is, you will die in turn too. You only hope it is quick. Being cursed felt so outdated. But it being some sort of blessing seemed far off for what The Tome looked like. It was now you recognized–the book could fly!?! You struggle to focus on anything on that fact, even Ajax’s constant pleadings. You shrug at this, sighing. The sight of the book becomes further away, becoming a small dot before fading from view entirely.

“Well, before I answer, did you hear anything? I heard voices and such just some minutes ago. Trying to teach me things, tell me things–it was fun! The soothing voice just made everything feel alright. Say, the voice mentioned you needing to train with it!” you ramble off, feeling excited. Talking books don’t happen every day, and you were excited to chat with your parents about it. Hopefully their deaths would not be as swift, at least prayed on it. You prayed to that Tome, right now. You close your eyes, begging the Tome from wherever it went.  When your eyes open, Ajax  is staring at his own hands.

“Train…? Train what, I already know most things! Well, besides some stuff. The voice told me we are now bound. What does bound mean anyway? I’m sure since the book flies it’ll come to me when they’re ready,” Ajax said, sitting up and pointing toward the bloodied mess. 

“How are we going to explain why our grandparents are dead?” Ajax asked. You shrugged at the question.

“So, pause. You can recall that they are our grandparents. But you don’t know my name?” You asked, snarling your nose. Ajax, raises his hands up, admitting defeat.

“I guess you got me. Still, why do you hate your name so much?” Ajax asked.

“I don’t like my name because my parents claimed it was ‘foretold’ or something. I just wanted something simple, like Amy or Mai,” you mumbled, “Instead of the name I got.” You and Ajax  decide to ditch the wagon and ride on the oxen directly, navigating home while leaving the dead bodies to freeze in the Snezhnaya cold. 

Back to the headless Archon domain area from the latest chapter

Your eyes open to the scene you recently recalled. The transparent floor shines with runic symbols, and that tree from earlier. You nearly lose whatever remains of your lunch as you recall the grumsone sight.

“Pearls, are you alright?” a soft, but firm voice asked. Your eyes wandered to a woman with silver hair and deep red eyes. Based on her getup, and stature, she had to be Fatui. And, with your code name revealed, it was all downhill from here.

“Wait–Pearls? Is that your real name? How curious,” Lisa said. You can’t quite communicate now. Whoever this Harbinger was, wanted you to keep your mouth shut. Otherwise Dottore would have given you instructions via your internal monologue communication. But–wait–could Lisa still intercept those? You remain quiet. You note how serious her facial expression eyes, eyes leading directly to Lisa.

“Ah, Knave, wonderful entrance as always! I’ve been getting the group up to speed on most things. Well, what’s relevant for them to know,” Dottore said, kicking back as he took a seat near the dismembered bodies. Something felt…immoral about it somehow? 

“Something I need to know. Cutie Mai, are you really Fatui…” Lisa asked, green eyes focused on your body. As you lie in the crowd where you once stood, those memories keep flooding in. About the book that gave you powers. About the one that gave Ajax his training–was Skirk their name?

“Mai has no reason to satiate that with a reply. Are we not all here for a common cause: the Ley Lines?” Knave says, a pleasant smile on her face. Sir did mention that she was more of the customer service of the Fatui. And it was proving more and more so. 

“Listen, Traveler, you trust us to an extent right? Then at least give us the space to use our brain power toward the common cause of the ley lines. I cannot promise that all Harbingers will be equal with thei–” Lyney began, but Lisa clears her throat, brandishing a purple aura emitting book. 

“Ah, this is becoming quite an interesting conversation. Cutie, other stakeholders, please forgive me. Perhaps it should be me to ex–” Lisa began, but a loud cackle came from Dottore. He observes the human corpses that inspired the current Archons appearances. 

“And now, my colleague has run out of cover. Always a pleasure to hear your theories and work, my lovely Lisa. Now, go on! Knave, you listen up too. Those orphans of yours may tie pieces of their knowledge with what she has to share,” Dottore announced, stretching before leaning forward, eyes fixed on Lisa.  You take a gauge of all the folks gathered here. You gulp. What else was hiding beneath all of this? When would you get time with Sir again, where he’d bathe you and treat you well? Or of your boyfriend, trying to figure out what the dream you had meant. All of it was stressful, trying to keep the small smile on your face steady. Everyone else seemed cheery too, small smiles…but what were those lips hiding? 

A brighter purple light shows, mixing in with lighter hues of greens and yellows. The book in Lisa’s hand slowly floats upward…wait…could it be? 

“Ah, well, thank you Dottore. It has long been the Knights of Favonius' job to protect Mondstandt from myriad attacks. We have also leveraged our contacts across nations to gather intel on the three enemies to Mondstandt. The third, final threat is the entire reason and purpose for my time in Mondstandt. As we have previous records, though ancient, of Ley Lines issues that could destroy the land as we know it. Recall your time with DIiuc, cutie, when those Leylines got awfully strange. The memories you saw, the strangeness that came with it. It would occur all across Teyvat. Now, cutie, I want you to apply what we know so far with what I’ve said. If the Leylines were to, say, erupt while nations were in states of panic…” Lisa trails off, nodding to the Traveler. 

“Then. The emotions of the people with the ley lines…would. Would,” the Traveler said,  not finishing her thought. Perhaps it was obvious to everyone but you.

“Would what?” you ask the room. It remains silent. It hangs in the air. Perhaps it was a bad time to press for answers.

“Beings that are brought to Khaenri'ah. And brought back to Teyvat, they are to be turned into hilichurls and the other creatures you see. If ley lines were to, say, be brought to the point of instability…matched with Abyss influence. Perhaps their plan was never to kill or hurt anyone after all–just turn the nation into people that look similar to them. While their reasoning may be seen as just, their actions are not,” Lynette said, shaking her head, “At least what we’ve theorized so far.” 

You remain quiet. If that were the case…how did your boyfriend make it out without becoming one of those said creatures? It made no sense to you.

“But that can only be of surface level use to you. You see, this concern spans beyond countries and city-states. It spans the entirety of the world we all share. While I have visited said place once, it was for a mission. And one of those pointless experiments from The Doctor. Due to the strength of the crimson flames, I was spared the fate of most who visit Khaenri’ah. That is to say, I would never do it again. Not due to my lack of power. Not even due to the lack of sheer willpower,” Knave said, sending a reprimanding look to the three kids. They seem nervous, bowing all at the same time.

“W-We’re worried about losing our Father for good. From reports, experiments, and other testimonials, the probability of Father surviving is…not 100%. Which is why we reject it with every piece of our being,” Freminet said. 

“You know, coming from a librarian…feelings don’t save what is about to be burn, ripped, destroyed. So we must keep all ideas on the table, no matter the cost,” Lisa mentions, guiding  the strange lights  coming from the book. Soon, an image appears. It looked like a world map of sorts. Along the map were red spots, seeming to indicate something or another. 

“Here we have the risk we are taking. If we do nothing, those red spots will function similarly to that of Natlan’s Night Kingdom. These areas will serve as ‘portals’ as you will to Khaenri'ah. While the ever strange ‘time travel’ technique was used by the Pyro Archon, that technology in Abyss hands…could potentially turn all mortals into…” Lisa said, shutting her eyes tight. It was odd, why was it so hard for Lisa to continue speaking up? Your eyes wander to Dottore, grinning ear to ear.

“Ah, lovely words from such a fabulous Scholar! A visual along with the worst case scenario! But, mind you, you are forgetting the crux of this,” Dottore said, smirking over to Lisa, “Shall I share or shall you?” There’s a curious look on the Traveler’s face, glancing toward everyone in the room.

“Ah, it seems like we walked in on the climax of the scholarly debacle,” Lyney said, tipping his head, “Traveler, keep your ears open. This will show just how crucial this mission is.” All eyes turn to Lisa, who turns away from the others. The book in the air falls unceremoniously to the ground, the thud echoing through the domain. This silence persists for minutes, before Knave clears her throat.

“Speak. Or you will be wasting not only Fatui's time, but The Traveler’s as well. If you require some combat for persuasion, I would be happy to assist with that,” Knave spoke. Her high heels clicked along the floor, heading toward Lisa. 

“Or is it that the entire facade you created over the years is finally failing? Oh, please, Lisa. Do not hide your particulars to behoove the situation. The situation we are in, in fact, was indirectly caused by your ignorance. Your petulant attitude combined with your graceless exit from the Akademiya. Oh, you scholar's you–never taking up the responsibility you so eagerly posit in your project proposals,” Knave said, crimson flames extending from her body. A red sickle forms in Knave’s hand, eyes glaring at Lisa’s back.

“No, please, no fighting! Lisa…please. Please just tell us. The entire world is riding on this, you know? Be the librarian we’ve met all those months ago…” The Traveler pleaded. Lisa turns to face the group now, face covered in tears.

“Fine, I’ll tell you…as always, Dottore’s outs are always unfulfilled. There is a reason I stay in Mondstandt. Actually, a protocol. Back in my time with the Akademiya, I was a core part of a research team on Ley Lines. There was not nearly as much information available there is as of now. But, as for learning more about them. I also learned the forbidden knowledge that comes within the Ley Lines themselves. First, it was curiosity. Would there be any significant variance between ones in Liyue than in Sumeru. Then–the first bit of forbidden knowledge entered my brain. The Ley Lines that were chosen to be studied were the oldest we could detect. The memories from these unstable ley lines–the tragedies–the truth of history. It was all… a lot. Being the foolish young girl I was, I submitted incredibly detailed reports of this occurrence. This led to me being expedited through the project approval process, updating a specialized Akasha Terminal. It was one specifically made not to be shared out in the knowledge base, rather, to be researched for validity. Things got messy once we began to expand to other parts of Teyvat.  The historical knowledge that was being stored in the Ley Lines was proven valid through a few different elemental resonance tests. That, along with reviewing history books to cross examine timelines…we found a gold mine of information. One that likely could not be contaminated. That was, until. The Akademiya became no longer satisfied with just historical notes. They wanted deeper experiments, things that would press the boundaries between reality and history. So many write ups from many prestigious people, begging for me to work with them. Begging for access to the precious, forbidden knowledge Akasha Terminal. Once I saw other proposals requesting my research, wanting to see just how much the Ley Lines can impact our current present. It was then I wanted to call it quits. I knew the Akademiya would never let me go willingly. And, even if they did, they would refuse me the right to the specialized Akasha Terminal. So, I wrote a private letter to the Dendro Archon herself. I explained the dangers of continuing this research. I waited only one day for a letter to return. It was for my tenure to end and my research to be sealed along with the Dendro Archon. From there, I cannot validate or disregard that the Abyss got to my research.” Lisa said. You could hear a difference in her tone. Instead of the confident silver fox she presented herself to be, she was becoming a girl again. Perhaps the girl she was in Sumeru? You nod along as the scholar speaks, Dottore giggling every now and again.

“Now, Lisa. I can say with certainty that the Abyss attacked in tandem with us when it came to my arrival at Sumeru. My goal was the gnosis–it appears theirs was this research. With it being a specialized Akasha Terminal, the system being shut off did not wipe off that information,” Dottore said, seeming to laugh and relish in LIsa’s turmoil. You note a pensive look on The Traveler’s face.

“What if Nahida…then did the allegory like she did with Wanderer…” The Traveler mutters to herself, Lyney grinning this time. 

“Ah, feel free to share any intrigue you can, Traveler. I think with the knowledge we have in this Dom–” Lyney said, but was interrupted by a tremor. The domain appeared to be breaking a part, the tree the bodies were on decaying and the beheaded body’s decayed too. Dottore appeared more curious than afraid, keeping a thorough eye on them.

“Oh, beautiful, we are experiencing another shift. Now, Knave if you could please~” Dottore said, rushing over to your colleague. The Knave clicks her tongue, bright red flaming wings extending from either end of her body.

“It appears we have run out of time here. It appears we must go with the nuclear option, Doctor,” Knave said, seeming to add more flame as the second ticked by. The  platform that held the beheaded bodies fell first, the transparent flooring still up as the steps leading to the platform crumble. 

“Ah, so you’re saying…this group shall finally meet our current, all-powerful Cyro Archon?” Dottore said, climbing onto Knave’s leg, “Everyone, grab a hold of the flaming lady. She’s getting us out here,” Dottore said, a snarl coming from Knave. 

“Dottore, you are aware of my name. And yet you failed to use it in an opportune time. Had it not been for the domain crumbling, I would dual you here and now,” Knave said, her kids next to grab onto the Harbinger. The Traveler, you, and Lisa are the final ones to latch on as Knave ascends upward, seeming to ditch whatever remains of the domain.

“This must be another shift–have they already initiated the Night Kingdom stage?” Lisa asked, her voice panicked. Knave tutts at those words, red eyes seeming to focus on something in the boundless darkness. You could not see anything though. 

“Incorrect. Again, I have visited Khaenri'ah. I know the scent, the environment–the danger that launches at you from every centimeter. This is not that,” Knave clarifies, “I suspect you figure this out soon. Else, I believe The Tsaritsa would make you into the finest ice statue. For your sake, I would put that Akademiya knowledge to work right now.” Lisa becomes quiet, seeming to have no words remaining. All you knew now was out of the window. Through the light from Knave’s wings, you are able to start making out runes…and some sort of reddened crystal. Something in your head told you, without Tartaglia here, things would go amiss. You could only hope your boyfriend would end up making one of those grand entrances. He wouldn’t fail you when you just got your memory back…right?

Chapter Text

Lumine’s P.O.V

With the journey I have traveled thus far, I always knew forward as the best direction to go. Forward meant learning more about my brother, forward meant helping those I met along the way. But this was the first point where I knew there would be conflict–a decision–something that me and my brother may have differing opinions on. I hate the fact that I had to be a control for this strange experiment. It did have its positives however.

“So, you are telling me. That our Archons are actually our…Gods?” Lisa asked. The librarian wore a curious look as she spoke with the likes of Lyney and a colleague you have yet to introduce yourself to. Perhaps, all things going well, ‘ The Knave’ would have some leverage to use to our favor.

Mai’s P.O.V [In the Runne]

The flight felt long. When was the last time your feet touched the ground? You hum, thinking deeply  of all the ways things could go wrong. The others were discussing how to repair the ley lines.

“I don’t think ‘repair’ is quite the word. These ley lines are not broken. If I am not mistaken Miss Lisa, you simply observed them in a natural habitat. Perhaps what we may need is more regulation, or rather, security?” Lyney remarked. He seemed pensive, clinging onto the Knave for dear life.

“Security? With how ramphent the ley lines run. And, well, how the Abyss is set on their goal. That kind of supervision would be impossible to provide. The only resolution that would solve this, is the actual thing we want to avoid. The Night Kingdom holds no ley lines. But–as stated before–can be a conduit for getting folks cursed and sent to the–the forbidden land,” Lynette chimed in, albeit quieter. 

“I would suggest we ask our dear Tsaritsa for guidance. She is so close to achieving her goal, she would not let such minute creatures delay us,” Knave spoke, her fiery wings still ascending further and further into the endless, rune littered pathway. The runes appear similar to that of the Tome. Perhaps this would finally give you the answers of your upbringing. Why you and Tartalgia were fated to be–why the Fatui even found interest in you initially. 

“Keep sharp, group! The runes in the tunnel are flagging for hidden traps and such up ahead. You don’t get to just fly into our leader’s lair, you know? Colleague or not, our queen appreciates a show of sincerity,” Dottore said, his fingers tightening along Knave’s arm. The other members tighten their grips in response, Knave  closing her eyes.

“W-Wait, ho–” Lumine said, but was immediately cut off by the sound of metal arrows clinging against the ceramic walls. There was a confused look on Lumine’s face before she took in a deep inhale.

“I…I will help you,” Lumine spoke, slowly exhaling, “Just like you all have helped me!” A brighter light now began to exude. You watch from Knave’s thigh as Lumine’s body becomes one with the flame. Her body shows a bright, red burning. The other traps either melt or slow down immensely as they come into contact with Lumine. Knave grumbles, managing to dodge other attacks made too.

“Don’t get lazy on me fellow Harbingers, these traps aren’t for the weak. I am assured my children will survive this ride–but the others? Collateral.” Knave said. While the wording was blunt, it was what was needed. Your thoughts grow sick at the thought of handling your vision–but then recall one of its strengths. You could control the shadows which were caused by the pyro users. You inhale sharply, realizing Knave’s words were more of a warning than a battle cry. Closing your eyes, you extend both hands out. Black tendrils shoot out, breaking the sto0ne boulders that were starting to cascade onto the group.

“Don’t expect me to sit around while you all have the fun,” Lisa said, summoning a purple-tinted lamp. A field of electricity now surrounds the group, any  wall laden traps becoming burnt with ease.  Her body somehow floats in tandem with Knave’s flying. The one that was the most quiet was beginning to worry you. Lumine was the hero, the one that constantly proved time and again their power. So why were they clinging onto Knave’s back, adding to Knave’s wings, becoming quiet. It hits you then; this place is dangerous even to well seasoned adventurers. You note a small portion of the fire appears much cooler, wrapping the sleeping Paimon in a warm embrace. It moved much quicker than the boundless silence earlier, the surrounding area becoming thick with cloud cover and snow. You note how the flames on Knave are gradually burning out, Lumine’s human form struggling to remain in the Pyro state. You hear happy chuckles from Dottore.

“Ah, her dear home. Now–we just have to survive the rest of the way,” Dottoer announced, seeming to ease out a soft sigh. The others appear stretched thin as well.

“Part of me wonders if the Tsaritsa does this entrance to ensure any conspirators run out of energy by the time they reach her,” Freminet comments, seeming to prepare for a fall, “On your orders Fathcorrect. Again, I have visited Khaenri'ah. I know the scent, the environment–ter.”  The short stature boy held one hand lazily on Knave’s garb. You raise a brow at this, amazed at how such a young kid could be so bold. Your eyes trail back to Knave, eyes in deep focus on the below castle. Wait–everything was beginning to make sense now. All you had to do was ask Tsaritsa directly. She was cryptic, cold–but not unreasonable. You had to figure out, like Zhongli mentioned, what words of love could pierce through to her.

“You may open the entrance for us, Freminet,” Knave said, the bright red finally succumbing to the heavy snow, “And be quick about it.” 

The boy lets go of the dress, his stature quick to disappear within the snow. You gulp, seeing Lumine beginning to descend with the other. Instead, there  was a clear look of unconsciousness on Lumine’s body. You attempt to let go–Knave refuses you this.

“You are a fool. Releasing you right now may cause us all to drift astray. Lyney, please grab our  valuable business partner,” Knave said, the boy in the top hat immediately going for a dive.  You watch he just barely succeeds in grabbing Lumine. 

“I got her,” you could barely make out from lower, that voice quickly faded. Then, those lids on your eyes closed. You prepared yourself for the coldness once more, the pain, the worry–the struggle. Why did spy work have to be so numbing? 

.        .            .

“That’s not possible! Tell me where my brother is!?! Now,” Lumine’s voice jolts you awake. You stand upright, noticing the change in clothes and appearance of all. 

You were dressed in a similar, black dress. The dress itself held memories–like your first time with Tartaglia. You look around, getting a gauge of what company you were in. 

“Forgive me, my dear Tsarita. The Traveler known as Lumine is experiencing Catatonia. We finished up our prep work so far, and she is well versed in what has transpired. However, there is a bit of business she wishes to address in regard to her brother,” Knave said, hands folded neatly in front of her. You nod, trying to appear as elegant and composed as Knave. 

“I second the motion, Tsarita,” you mention, quieter than the first. Your eyes then find Dottore, grinning ear to ear. His garbs appear from the Akademiya, dressed to the nines. The others are much the same, either suited in suits or dresses. With how this particular Archon chose to do things, it felt more like a family dinner than a conversation between different stakeholders. Your eyes now feel brave, searching for a familiar face. Her dress somehow manages to be more sophisticated than the first. If it hadn’t been for your poor socialization skills, the woman appeared dressed in elegant wedding attire. A bride’s dress stretches from her frame  to yards behind her person. Her eyes–once red–are now blue. Was she *really* calm on her visit that day? Or was her blue eyes a simple masking factor of her true appearance? 

“Ah, wonderful. All guests have awakened from their slumber. It is time for me to show you the truth, dear Traveler of the stars. May I have the Traveler, Honorary Knight, and all in between stand for me? It is the only way I can truly share the vision with you,” Tsartia  explained. You look down, staring at the plate.  You dare not to give any inch of intrigue of what was to proceed. You look moments later, seeing Lumine stand. Just as before, the moment Tsartia stands, you feel a chill. Thoughts run rampant in your mind. Was this what we wanted, a…a slaughter? Or did Fatui really intend to give Lumine the full story? 

Once Mai has reached where Lumine stood, you can see her Pyro form take over again. Pounds of flesh were replaced with hot fire.  As the two got closer, steam proceeded to overcome the room. 

“What…is happening?” Paimon spoke, seeming to awaken by the sensation of the steam. She rests to the right of you, her head planted along the table. Through the thickness of the steam, a story plays out in front of you and the other guests. You hear Lisa hum in intrigue, immediately pulling a small notebook from a pocket and writing in runes. You try to avert your gaze from the smoke, but a powerful screech plays in your head.

“Do not miss the best part, girl. The steam is a catalyst for what to come,” Dottore spoke. Wait–there was no interference or static–was he that quick at adjusting his test subjects? You scan your body, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.  The steam makes it harder to make out those around you. The steam soon converts to fog–then the chill hits you. Even though you could not see the Tsartia, you could feel her. She does not announce herself. She is the Harbinger’s God–there for disrupting the God. You can feel the nervousness grow in you. Would it snap or contain itself? Would you keep yourself if you entered that mist? 

Abruptly, you feel your feet move without question. The other Harbingers let out a gentle, but knowing, cough. This was your moment to show them you could handle this. And, if you did not, perhaps you could remain Sir’s pet. You feel yourself shiver as you enter the steam, memories playing like an old movie theater. 

“Now, you see, Paimon. You have a special talent. You and Kaeya hold the true history of the Archon war and the plans for the Abyss. It is impossible to unlock this at the same time,” Tsaritia commanded, her appearance changed drastically.

In place of the short hair lay ribbons of silver, with jet black eyes. You can only move your face in the steam, as if the Cyro Archon froze you in place. You move your eyes–no one is there. You move your eyes back to her, the hair raising and cutting itself.

“I no longer go by the name ‘Cyro Archon’. I will stand by my love in Celestia, Mai. Mai is the name you chose to change, but we are in flux. The male traveler has been pumped full of that ungodly substance in the Chasm. He wanted to unlock the truth, but really…he locked himself inside of the world…where, I will only tell the one named Mai. Mai is the key to any and all of your problems,” Tsarita said, walking around the room. But, where was Paimon? Was this more of Fatui's doing or the honest truth.

“I am telling you the truth, dear Mai. You almost died of an unknown illness, correct? What if I told you they are worse  Doctors than IL Dottore. You need to be protected. Because Paimon and Aether will not be together for long. Kaeya’s returning to his true self. Paimon is easily manipulated by me. Oh, and don’t forget, you still owe me an Electro gnosis,” Tsarita stated, another change in outfit.

A long, flowing dress fits tight along her body. Streaks of all types of color bathe her hair in a rainbow sunset. Her eyes gradually revert to those icy blue ones. You turn to face the onlookers, only to find them deep in sleep. The steam clears, Lumine falling to her knees.

“I just…want to see my brother,” Lumine said, bowing and turning her head downward. You look over at your leader, smug and grinning ear to ear.

“So, is it that you wish to save your brother in lieu of the entirety of Teyvat? Has all your journey led up to nothing? How boring you are, Lumine. And selfish too,” Tsarita said, leaning in toward the kneeling Lumine.

“I…why? Why are you making me make such a dangerous choice,” Lumine spoke, tears running down her face. Tsarita laughs, snapping her fingers. Two different remotes form the moment the snap ends. 

“It is your choice, after all. After all the experiences you have been through, the people you love, the people you find frustrating like my dear Tartalgia,” Tsarita said, kneeling down to face the traveler. One finger gently rubs against Lumine’s neck. This causes Lumine to choke, coughing up the steam from earlier. I  still felt no movement in my body. I was trapped in an icy kind of matter. 

“N-NO! I don’t want the choice. Give it to anyone but me, please…” Lumine spoke out, bawling her eyes out. Her cries were loud, echoing off each corner of the domain.

“Oh, but dear, this was a gift especially from my constituent Dottore. He specially made this as his true mark of work. You see, Lumine, we all have tough choices to make. What you choose may be losing your brother or your friends. And, let’s just say, your brothers will be the next geo dragon,” Tsarita stated, still having that smug look on her face. You gulp only to watch the ongoing events. 

“What of Az–” Lumine tries to ask, but a swift, pointy icicle huts half her hair clean off. There was a line of blood that grew on Tsarita’s blade, silent.  The steam filled room remains quiet, though certain screams are reminiscent of Lumine’s voice. And, amid the quiet chaos, you hear your senior Tsarita speak to Lumine.

“I will not have your sadness corrupt my judgement. I am in a particular sour mood, you see. And what do I hate the most? Not the humans, not the Archons–oh, much better. I am spiteful of you, Lumine. Your fruitless efforts to assist the creatures of the world are admirable. But, when faced with a challenge–who have you leaned upon? The other Archons who are blessed that you do not know the full story. My Fatui colleagues and I are here as a conduit of information. If you are unable to complete the decision now, why not ask for more context?” Tsarita spoke. Something in her tone reminded you of the Knave, which your eyes soon confirm is deep in slumber. 

Turning your eyes to Lumine, her face has grown pale and red in a variety of places on her face. A tired, sweating face is revealed under the half of her hair that is left. She sounds as if she’s running out of oxygen the more she attempts to speak. She manages to raise her hand in such a tense moment, causing Tsarita to somehow grin more.

“Excellent. You now know your place under the most Elder ex-Archon. I let my people run their own country. Rex Lapis simply borrowed the idea and used it to his own self interests. And the other Archons are simply waiting out their time until they pass on to Celestia. Sadly, Celestia isn’t the place it was eons ago. I’ve been there. It is not for those that are down here, descendants. But, you, Mai, Lumine. You can change this world to what you believe is correct. I believe Mai has a sound agreement with you, Lumine, to find where she belongs. Now that has been solved, Lumine is tasked to assist Mai in her Fatui exploits. Deny–and I turn you, the Traveler, into an ice statue only used to cool my drinks,” Tsarita spoke,  the steam clearing as you hear others wake up.

 Now how were the two supposed to get to Celestia?

Chapter Text

Diluc’s P.O.V 

While it angered me to no end, Dottore’s warning proved true. Instead of the calm winds of Mondstandt, we ended up in the remote Inazuma fields. Rogue samurais were stalking our presence since we made our entrance. Kaeya was worse for wear–but me–I had to figure it out.

“Oh, my dear brother having issues I see,” Kaeya spoke in a whisper, which turned into a blood soaked cough. I couldn’t figure out what to do about the Vision, about Inazuma culture–was this the true Fatui plot? 

I began to brandish my claymore, my eyes searching for an opening. I made sure to still keep myself hidden by the large rock Kaeya and I hid behind. My only advantage here would be an ambush of sorts. Several rogue samarui’s continued their routes. They wandered close, but not close enough to detect us. Finding an opening would take longer, but anything to keep Kaeya and myself safe.

“Samuari’s, stand down! We appear to have some visitors,” a voice yells from an unknown location. I kept still behind the rock, while Kaeya so selfishly whistled.

“Inazuma huh…wonder if my looks will work on that yelling woman,” Kaeya mused, leaning onto my shoulder. No. I would refuse this end for my brother, for our family. As much as Kaeya had conflicting views and resolve, he did not deserve to die like this. I inhaled sharply, claymore in hand. My eyes watched its smoothness, its jet black exterior. I would need to come up with something–soon–even the names the traveler gave meant nothing when approached by a stranger like myself. I was never one to beg, but today, may be the day I do so.

“Reveal yourself, now! Aren’t you abyssal messagers? That’s the only way I see it–with how you entered…hmm, but you’re showing cowardness. Ronins–fall back–I need to observe the threat more closely,” the woman’s voice shouts, sounds of high heels clicking against the hardened soil. Would talking about the events make sense to this soldier–or would we be labeled as terrorists? I recalled from one of Lumine’s stories that Ritou had similar policing to this. I’d have to find the princess–or Thoma—according to the Traveler’s notes. 

“Alright, let’s see what we’re working with…oh my…” the woman said, her head peeking downward to see the mess Kaeya and I were, “We have victims of the Abyss! Call me a medic, now!” I smiled, unsure of what to say. I was ready to beg for our lives, to fight for them. The thought of death for a moment scared me. Not due to my own life but for Kaeya’s as well. In a foreign land, where we had to speak of someone else's accolades.  Perhaps Kaeya was right–it was our turn to ride the Honorary Knight’s coattails. 

I took a closer look at the woman before me. Dark colored hair with brilliant golden eyes. Her height was shorter than mine, but she made up for it with her voice’s bravado. All I felt like doing was smiling. All I really wanted was for Kaeya to be safe–and for his vision to separate from his own body. Kaeya wouldn’t be able to hold his position with the Knights, but his life would be saved.

“You two, name yourselfs! Where are you from? And why did the Abyss portal push you out?” the woman said, doing a quick bow, “Kujou Sara, special unit leader.” My eyes squinted at the woman before me,  noticing the name from Lumine’s recounting of saving Inazuma. 

Before I could speak, I could hear that horrid laugh my brother does before he tries to hit on unsuspecting ladies. I tried to hold in my sighing–but it was meant to come out. 

“Oh, quite the fox you are. And getting us medic-cal…” Kaeya tried, but a splattering of blood coats the woman’s white face. Kaeya did not have much time left, and that was a sure sign of it. Kujou grimaces at the feeling, trying to use her red mask to claw off the blood. My eyes focus, using the rock as leverage for me to half stand. Kujou aimed a bow at her head,  and her breathing became labored. She rests another hand along Inazuma’s soil, as if to communicate. The blood appeared thicker than usual, sticking to Kujou’s face like rubber. No, more so like a slime that was sucking the oxygen out of her body.

“Shogun…the Abyss has completed the first part of their goals. We need backup–now–at the…Ritou…island…pain,” Kujou continued to speak, but small trails of darkness exude from her mouth. She screams at the sight, trying to shoot an electronic arrow at it. Each time she draws back the bow, another scream comes out of her. Her electro vision shines brightly, as if it were mixing with the cursed blood. Wait–blood–was that…how this calamity started? I took another look at Kaeya, still looking worse for wear. He would need a doctor–an experienced one. Was this why that damned Dottore didn’t want him near–to spread this pestilence? I shouted in anger, soon to be joined by Kujou. I could feel the Ronin already starting to defect, red eyes eying Kujou. I gulped, exhaling sharply as I got battle ready. Reinforcements were called–thus it  fell on me to defend the captain and my brother. But how…and would they still help us with the Abyssal curse Kaeya is under? 

My eyes eye each and every samurai around me. Headcount was about 15, excluding the other minor monsters roaming about. Now, given what I lea–

“My apologies!” a woman belts out, a plume of ice coating the samurais. They grumble and scream out for release–release never came. In a swirl of activities were Thoma and the princess(Ayaka I believe)? I watched as Thoma cared for Kujou wounds and Ayaka destroyed the legions of defected swordsmen.

“Last time I will  ever try to lead a battalion that is far gone,” Kujou spoke, spitting up blood similar to Kaeya.  With a familiar face in sight, I was quick to drop to my knees in front of Thoma and company. Begging felt…strange. Like there was some sort of deeper meaning to it all. But, no, this was just what people do. What people do when they run out of options by themselves. 

“Please, we need an expert doctor. My brother and Kujou are corrupted by the Abyss–please help them!” I said, “My full name is Diluc Ragnvindr, and Lumine sent us here for medical help.” I could see Ayaka nod knowingly to myself and Thoma. 

“This is some Abyssal power we have yet to see. It appears that the Abyss is using certain stem cell cultures mixed with some sort of purplish toxin,” Thoma said. I’ll admit it, most of the words went over my head. All I knew was the Abyss was behind it. I was never strong on my medical knowledge, nor did I ever expect to learn any of it. My eyes trail Thoma as he covers Kujou and Kaeya’s mouth to prevent further spread of the pestilence.

“The Shogun has determined this an emergency. She has noticed the ley lines here are becoming more and more unstable. So far she’s been doing her best, but everyone is getting worried. Ronin and other wandering slimes have become stronger, come in bigger hoards, and appear to be growing more by the day. Even the Kamisato Estate has struggled with the leyline order.. That’s why we were hoping you knew where Lumine is…or at least an estimate of when she would arrive,” Thoma explained, eyes full of hope as he stared at me.

“Oh, Lumine? She’s stuck in a similar position as Ei. Fighting off the hordes as we speak,” I said. I could not directly state we were in Fatui’s hideout. That would just open a new can of worms. Thoma nodded, looking thoughtful as he stared at what my brother was becoming. 

Thick, sludge like material drips from his body. What used to be his vision was replaced by purple slurry. His face was becoming encapsulated by the thick mud. I moved my glove, adding some of my Pyro vision to try and burn the gunk off. After several attempts, Kaeya’s face was stabilizing.  But his eyes–and his hair–were turning a pale white. Was this what the Cyro Archon meant by a transformation? 

“H-Heh. Saved me a few more hours. Admit it–you’re unsure of what to do either. It’s ok brother,” Kaeya said, the most he was able to get through his mouth since the Fatui hideout. I ignored his attempt to rile me up and turned to our allies. 

“I can join the fight–but Kaeya needs a safe resting place. Same as Miss Kujou. Thoma, please guide us,” I asked, turning away from the sneering Kaeya.  

“Despite the hordes' attempts, they have yet to fully break through the Kamisato estate. I believe that would be the safest place to keep your brother,” Thoma said. I shrugged, stretching before lifting my brother and claymore. This was a weight I had to bear due to Dottore’s insufferable actions.

“Ok, I’ll continue to help Miss Ayaka with clearing out the Ronins. They tend to be the real heavy hitters around here. With the Shogun helping out too, we should be able to stabilize the situation more and plan for a full on wipe,” Kujou said, slow to rise to her feet. Several cuts draining blood remain on her face, the thick substance burned off with the help of Thoma. 

“Whatever it is we have here, we need to stop it before it reaches non-Vision users,” Ayaka stated, brandishing a fan as more ice covers the ever growing number of creatures.  Thoma managed to put Kaeya on his back with ease, nodding over to me.

“Let’s go. Who knows how much longer it’ll be before this is over,” Thoma said, beginning to rush over to a mountain. I did the same, placing my claymore along my back.  Please let the others be safe and further along than I was.

Mai’s POV

I had no clue what to do. The Cyro Archon rests in her throne, a half frozen Lumine at her feet. Tsaritsa’s short white hair frames her face. Her red eyes glared at the Lumine.  Unlike last time, there was no jewelry hanging from her neck. Sure, Celestia was a big ask, but we could have at least lied our way through it. Lumine was too soft, too brittle to understand Tsaritsa's will.

“Let us go! I don’t even know where Celesita is, I’m telling you the full truth,” Lumine screamed, each limb forming multiple layers of ice along her legs. Ice crystals exponentially increase. What once were bare legs, were ice crystals spreading rapidly across Lumine’s legs.

“Well well, still a liar as I hear. You are trying to convince me of a lie. You do recall where you lost your brother, no?” Tsaritsa spoke.  Her eyes manage to glow a deep red, as if to point out something. I moved my eyes to Lumine, still crying.

“I don’t know where that is…the last memory I had was being pushed into the ocean, likely to be left dead,” Lumine cried out, holding herself. I looked over to Paimon, who floats to Tsaritsa’s side.

“Why does this have to happen NOW? Paimon just wants everyone to be happy. And no one’s happy right now, dear uh…Tsaritsa?” Paimon said, clearing her throat and putting on some fake glasses, “If this is a science experiment, we should go check the results first, right? Going to Celestia now would be putting the cart ahead of the horse! In fact, that would be a pointless visit.” It was strange how receptive Paimon was being right now. Perhaps she knew how best to speak to the Cyro Archon. Paimon was the original Cyro dragon after all. All eyes were on the Tsaritsa. Her face starts to look pensive, mulling over what Paimon had said. A shocked and impressed look can be seen across Lumine’s face.

“That’s right Paimon! We need to ensure things are in place for an important trip like that,” Lumine added. The Cyro Archon remains silent, followed by the entire room. 

I curled up, starting to feel an intense cold. The others do the same, trying to find a way to warm themselves. I couldn’t believe the Knave and her kids were still sound asleep. That damned Dottore came behind me and is holding me tight. When did he awaken? My eyes see Paimon and the traveler keeping themselves warm but…Lisa. Lisa was freezing, rubbing her shoulders with her hands. Had she woke up with Dottore?

“T-This seems quite counterproductive, dear Archon. Why are you f-freezing us?” Lisa asked. Tsaritsa laughed at the comment, making her way over to Lisa’s seat. I watched intently. Then, that familiar static ran through my head. 

“ So you shall soon see what our dear Tsarita is capable of. Miss Lisa interrupted her trait of thought, and now must be punished, ” Dottore said in my head, “ A beautiful scene is to occur. ”

The Cyro Archon’s clothes suddenly transform. The dress is slowly turned into…Lisa’s attire!? I gulped, unsure of what would occur next. The fear in Lisa’s eyes grew, the Cyro Archon bringing down the temperatures even more. Even Tsaritsa’s hair grows and matches Lisa’s exact hair color. Lisa said not another word as Tsaritsa began to laugh, mocking the librarian. 

“Oh dear, cutie. It appears that Lisa’s little secret has been found out. Why would a Scholar from Sumeru move their nesting area to Mondstandt? To avoid the casualties caused by leyline poisoning. To avoid punishment is to be negligent. To be negligent is to be trash worse than the average mortal. Miss Lisa, you have been reviewed for murder, falsification of the leyline history, and in cahoots with that damned Ameno Archon. If you dare defy these allegations, I will revel in chipping away at your body–peace by peace, as an adorable ice statue,” Tsaritsa said, her tone getting more and more serious. 

Lisa falls to her knees, crying. Who would have known Lisa was a cause of all these issues? Was it truly all the librarians' fault? My eyes turned to the confused Lumine, covering her ears as she proceeded to enter the fetal position. Paimon flies over, patting Lumine along her back. Paimon almost began to say something, but was stopped by her traveling companion. All these friendships, all those lies–sent directly to Lumine. How was she to recover from betrayal after betrayal? At least now Lumine would understand our work better. We were spies for the good of the people…I think? You recall Zhongli’s words about finding common ground with the way Tsaritsa ‘loves’. Nothing about what I saw was in any aspect love. If anything, it felt like painful torture for all involved in this strange mission.

“At one point in my life, it was perfect. Being acknowledged by my peers and the higher ups. Learning more about the world was exciting at that time. However, it is time for me to tell you all the truth, including you cutie. My original research was groundbreaking at the time–ley lines became more important to everyone, excluding the Archons. There’s scientific proof the ley lines were originally the Archon’s issue. The life or death of a nation dependent on a singular Archon. Of course, during my research, Nahida was kind enough to share more of Sumeru’s forbidden knowledge. I was the first ever person to retain those notes. Is this what you wanted, dear Archon–Tsaritsa!” Lisa explained. Lisa now moved to balance herself on her hands and knees, crying, still begging for her life. Lumine was worse, still crying. 

“ Well, girl. What should we do? Watch them go insane or try to save this land, Teyvat? ” Dottore asked in your mind. Why did such a heavy decision weigh on a girl who just was a waitress? Was it to remain neutral–was it to capture your powers of darkness? And it all led up to this point.The Tsaritsa smiles, seeming to relish in her enemies misery. How was this love? How could anyone find this a result of love?

“Guess who's been responsible for the ley lines? Guess who's trying to adjust the leylines. And, lastly, guess who’s tasked to fix the ley lines? Yes, you and your little “Adventurers Guild’ is nothing but a glorified army. You go in there, fight some monsters, and assume the issue is solved. But it’s far from that. Why do you think these domains constantly remain open? Why do you see Zhongli and Venti hardly do anything? Because their ley lines are attached to K–” Tsaritsa continued on, ear piercing screams from Lisa and Lumine waking any still asleep right up. As Knave and her children awoke, smug faces lined the room. 

“Ah, so the Tsaritsa is in a better mood, great,” The Knave said, stretching some, “What a lovely nap. Thank you, dear Tsaritsa.” The Cyro Archon nods to her team before turning back to Lisa and Lumine.

“What weaklings you are. If you truly loved this land, you would happily get frozen for it! My family spares no expense in coming to help when others are in need. Each Harbinger holds the power to go to places they care much for. Knave–she saved Fontaine with your help, Lumine. Natlan–my dearest Captiano lost his eternal life to save the nation. We see you as one of us already, Lumine. Just accept it. And, yes, Paimon can join too,”Tsaritsa  said, extending a gloved hand toward the curled up Lumine.” 

“I meant it when I said you are considered one of us. You aren’t trying to fall into this failing status quo. We need you, Lumine. More than ever,” Lyney said, standing from his seat and kneeling beside Lumine. 

“I just want my brother back…and I. I don’t even know where to check!” Lumine screamed, struggling to stand to her feet, “Tsaritsa, please give me information of where my brother is being kept. In exchange, I’ll agree to join the Harbingers.” Whistles echo throughout the room, even clapping.

“Ah, our dear Lumine is finally coming to her senses. You do realize you cannot travel without direct orders, yes? Once you are inducted, you will have your own set of missions and one may be–and I say this deliberately–is to finish our goal for the gnoses. You know what you must do with Mahuika. You must tear–” Dottore said, holding onto you tight. Lumine lets out another scream, shaking her head at what Dottore said.

“I saw what you guys did to Venti–” Lumine starts, but an icy  red glove meets her throat. Wait–were they the same gloves Sir showed you? How exactly did they work–we were already inside her domain. Were the gloves enchanted with some sort of teleportation spell? But, Lumine remained shoved into the wall behind her. Cracks begin to show in the building’s stone. The steam was appearing again, this time, it helped warm the room up. The black lace in the magically unfolds and wraps around Lumine’s neck like a noose.  

“And? What of it? Have you no pity for our dearly departed Harbinger? That isn’t very fitting for someone joining the cause,” Tsaritsa  said. The room hangs in awkward silence for a bit, Lumine being choked out with a cold, metal glove. Her legs dangle, just barely able to make it to the floor. Lumine's face appears to be freezing, Knave snapping her fingers.

“Now, we don’t want to scare our new recruit so early, my dear Tsaritsa. I suggest my team brief Lumine during a meeting,” Knave suggested. You watch as Tsaritsa laughs, shaking her head as she slowly lets go of Lumine. Lumine drops like a ton of bricks, hyperventilating.  The black fabric returns to the stitchings of the red glove. I got to see a closer 

“Know this Lumine: Your brother would have done the same thing,” Tsaritsa states, returning to her seat. I watched the hope leave Lumine's eyes, left with nothing but a fire within her soul. Lumine nods as she looks over to the Knave and her orphans. What else was I supposed to do?

“Wow, uhm…this is the first time Paimon was the cool-headed one. Traveler, we got to do what’s right! It seems like the whole situation is a mess, and it’s our job to turn it around!” Paimon said, flying around the lowered head of Lumine. The Traveler remains quiet. 

“Why would my brother do such a cruel thing to me?” Lumine asked, head unmoving. Tsaritsa shrugs, yawning as she sits down. Within a few seconds, the entire room warms to an appropriate level. If the temperature decides her anger, well, I was lucky to survive Tsaritsa's anger. 

“Cruel? You clearly have no grasp on how The Abyss formed or what it stands for. Ask yourself this instead: What have I done to give such a response? You are smart, Lumine, and if your pretty head hasn’t realized it now–this entire land will be overrun with the dead, monsters, and eternal beings. All those lives, slaughtered, by your brother's twisted sense of judgement. That’s why he hits you: to knock your senses off. You do wish for Teyvat to be prosperous, yes? Then you must face the Pyro Archon with all that you have,” Tsaritsa said. Lumine remains quiet after that speech. Paimon did, too. The silence came again, this time less awkward and more tense.  Dottore starts to whistle, walking around. The Knave chose to remain silent. Lisa and Lumine’s eyes got puffy and red from all their crying.

“Knave, get these two off my floor. The rest can rest. I believe Pantalone has been waiting for your return for quite a while, Mai. Strange, how much of a romantic he can be,” Tsaritsa said, putting on the other red glove. The sight confirms that those were the items that were touched in the box long ago. You remain at ease, unsure of what will come next. Did rest look different for the Tsaritsa as well? I wished to comfort Lumine, but felt two familiar hands along your waist. Only Sir would hold me like this. His hands squeeze gently at each fold of the skin, pulling at the fabric you wore too. You blush, unsure if this amount of PDA would anger Tsaritsa. So far she appeared unbothered, eyes glaring at the two sniffling on the floor.

“Ah, my doll has returned from her duty. Let’s return to my chambers,” Sir whispered into my ears. Sir’s  presence makes me  shiver each time, uncertain of what was to come. Would it be painful? Would it be calming? Only the other Harbingers knew. And something about that always excited me.

I nodded to Sir, standing up with his arms around your waist. Lisa and Lumine continued to sniffle on the floor, trying their best to fix their faces. They looked like kids that just got grounded for a week. And, to extend that metaphor, they were tasked with an unsavory chore by their parents. You hear Knave’s footsteps head toward the crying duo, picking them both up with ease.

“Children, we must teach them everything we know. Even as they cry out, we must instill knowledge within them. We’ll talk more about it over dinner, yes? And I believe Mai, can make anything you desire,” Knave said, smiling. It was odd to ever see her smile. Was it because she was happy the two decided to join us?

“I never specified to be part of the Fatui. Am I supposed to be a–” Lisa said, but a quick jab to the stomach knocks Lisa out. Knave sighs, keeping both slinged over her shoulders. 

“Naughty people get timed out. Lumine, let this be an example of behavior not to follow,” Tsaritsa said. You watch as Lumine keeps her mouth shut, Paimon flying beside Knave. 

I felt Sir continue to pull at my dress, nearly ripping it several times. The dress was a brilliant red dress matched with  ornate earrings. It looked similar to the outfit  I wore  when deployed in Mondstandt. Perhaps Sir wanted to see it again…rip it off this time? 

“Girl, it is time for us to relax,” Sir said, tugging your body along one of the windows. You recognize the window covering from your first meeting with the Tsaritsa. A dark blue banner hangs from the ceiling, with a large snowflake at the base of the banner. Sir reaches a hand out, touching said banner.  Sir’s seal appears above the snowflake, before the banner turns into a bright hallway.

“Pantalone and Pearls, heading out,” Sir said, turning to wave at his fellow Harbingers. You mirror this action, a small smile on Knave’s face. Lumine’s face was obscured by her hair. I couldn’t figure out what Lumine’s mood was after it all happened. Sir pulls me along, walking faster than usual. I match his pace, rushing through the hallways once more. That mask you had to create felt like it was falling fast, sneaking kisses along Sir’s face and neck.

Sir does not return the kisses, simply rushing you along the hallway. It isn’t long until you return to a similar bedroom, causing you to exhale happily into the familiar space. Your lips return to Pantalone, but he pushes you off. I frowned, worried that our dynamic had changed.

“I know you belong to Tartaglia now. All those kisses are just byproducts of a one sided attraction,” Sir said, glaring over your body, “And how he tainted you.” You gulp. How did Sir find out he took your virginity? And what kind of dynamics would change within the Harbingers hideout?

“I…I confess. It did happen,” I said,” I am sorry.” Sir looks at you closely, his glasses touching your face. What punishment would it be this time?

“Sadly for you, you’re old news. Tartaglia has been obsessed with that girl Lumine, yes? And if he does intend to make a move, you’d be dropped like a sack of potatoes. How does that make you feel?” Sir said. I shrugged, unsure of how anything made me feel. I knew from the bits and pieces from the restaurant, some guys dated girls just for the sex…perhaps Tartaglia was one of those sorts of guys. I sighed, sitting down on Sir’s bed. Sir joins you, wrapping an arm around your waist. You lean into his hold, humming softly.

“What’s next for us?” I asked. Sir remains quiet. I let a few minutes pass before asking again.

“It is simple; wait. I believe Columbina is after the Pyro gnosis too, and Lumine will be tasked to assist her. Isn’t it loving how our leader gives us time off, amazing missions, and endless gold? We are to change the world and fix the leylines…that’s one of the many goals at least.” Watching Sir pull his clothes off was a gift in itself, showing off his chiseled body and voluminous hair. After Sir strips, you hear a familiar voice.

“Hi Mai–I mean–girlfriend! What do you think about polyamory?” Tartaglia said, a screen appearing across the screen, “Oh. Bad time I guess. But, honestly, would you be interested?” 

“What is that?” I asked. It wasn’t long until I realized what was happening: Tartaglia wanted Lumine and I equally…and Sir wanted me carnally. Certainly communication was key, but would Lumine be up to such a proposal? Lumine had been through enough for a day. She also had to be briefed by Knave for our mission goals. After Tartaglia finished his speech, I agreed to give it a try.

“But, I’d like Lumine to make the decision when their mental health returns to normal. It would be unfair to ask a hurting lady to do such a thing. She’s already focusing so hard to keep it together here,” I responded. I watched as Tartaglia shrugged, laughing.

“Of course this stuff wouldn’t happen immediately. Oh, I’m so excited for when she feels better to spar too! It feels like our ranks are increasing with time. It’s a shame the Tsaritsa  tasked Knave and not me to get her up to speed. I’m more of a familiar face, why did Knave want her first? ” Tartaglia said, running about in his room. It seemed like your boyfriend, or rather nesting partner, was excited for the next few weeks. 

“Also, Childe. Do not forget your part in the incoming weeks,” Sir said, ending the transmission soon after. Sir clicks his tongue, dragging my head across the bed frame. He squeezed my hair tight, with enough force for me to forcibly face him.

“How about I turn you into a ragdoll, you filthy slut?” Sir asked. 

“Please do,” I said, closing my eyes.

Chapter Text

Mai’s POV

After the time I spent being a spy, it was now time to be Sir’s doll. Sir proceeds to check the bathwater temperature with his hand. He hums before waving me over to get in. I slipped into the bathtub, letting out a small grimace as the soap got into the multiple wounds Sir inflicted on me. I smiled after getting used to the sting, looking over at Sir.

“Now, it is your turn to rest. Lumine will be deployed shortly, as well as myself. Money is going into a black hole at the Northland Bank in Liyue. It’s my duty to visit there, in person, to get an answer. All of our lower underlings were tossed out like trash by someone over there. And I don’t intend on missing a single mora due to incompetence. Now, you have the choice to travel with Lumine, or me. Though I must warn you Lumine’s mission will be much more dangerous. She is facing the final Archon. That Archon holds the piece to fixing the ley lines, even if the Archon feigns being unaware,” Sir said. Bubbles cover my skin, a small wash towel glides across my body, burning my cuts even more. I let out a groan, Sir laughs. The washcloth is soon dyed a slight pink, a sign of how much love Sir used to hit me with.

“Now, don’t tell me Mondstandt made you soft. You handled a lot yesterday and could still do so today. But, even I have my limits,” Sir said, deliberately being more gentle with his washing. You exhale, frustrated about the events. What if I still wanted to get beat up, to be abused–until I was unconscious? I was getting a sense that Tartaglia and myself were a better couple after all.

“No, I am strong. I just…forget my place when I am here, with you,” I explained, turning away to hide the blush on my face. Sir gently pulled on my arm, bringing me closer to him. Those eyes of his always drew me in too close, my eyes stuck looking into his. His face moves closer to mine, lips inches away from your ear. 

“Beautiful. And yet, you choose such ugly things,” Sir whispered. Sir’s hands went for my hair next, pouring a cold substance onto it. I lean forward, allowing Sir more room to wash the entirety of my hair. Something about us, the dynamic, made me feel more human than the past few days. Lying, deceiving, and struggling to break into secret intel was a lot on someone. My boyfriend said it best, about it grinding on the nerves. 

“You are not ugly, Sir,” I whispered back. Sir cackles before returning to washing off my hair. He clicks his tongue, readying himself for another spiel regarding work. 

“It’s also up to you, if you wish, to have Tartaglia along as a partner. Marionette will be your true partner, but for now, Tartaglia is your temporary travel buddy. You see, we Harbingers never truly travel alone. Whether or not others are aware is a separate issue. Captiano went ahead of Columbina to scout for the Pyro gnosis. Despite Captiano giving up his eternal life, there is still Columbina Mavuika needs to address. She is far more powerful than most in the Harbingers. Tell me, girl, what do you know of Angels?” Sir said. I shrugged.

“Ah, I see then. According to Teyvat’s history, angels once lived among us. These Angels were the administrative guides for Archons. They were the original ones to grant visions. They would sense promise within the mortals of the realm, granting them elemental powers for the good of Teyvat. This led to deserts having access to free water, warmth where it was cold. All of that came to an end when Celestia and the Archons disagreed with vision granting decisions. The rest is up for debate honestly, as that part of history has been lost. Some said the angels rebelled against Celestia, using their final power to ensure vision granting was not biased, and entirely random. And that still proves true today, no one quite knows who grants Visions now,” Sir said. During his speech, he managed to wipe every centimeter of me clean. Curiosity was getting the best of me. I had to know how much my organization knew. 

“What does Fatui see as the real truth?” I asked. There was a moment of silence, a silky black towel wrapping around my hair. Then, I felt a push from Sir. I  stood up straight, taking care as I stepped outside of the bathtub.

“Well, we believe the narrative looks at Celestia in a neutral manner. We do not believe the Archons are truly to blame for the Angel’s mass death. Celestia got worried over the increase of vision users, making life easier, and fewer people following the ways of Celestia. The Archons are like middle management. Think of it like the restaurant you used to work at. There’s the server and hostess. Take Celestia as a manager, overseeing the Archons and Angels. Since Celestia did not see the worth in Angels in Teyvat, they discontinued the hostess as a job title and made everyone servers. These things are not pretty in the least. But it gives us more insight based on how the Archons viewed their gnosis. As you can tell by the sheer number we have collected so far, we must push forward for the last gnosis. Columbina is the only living entity that knows what happens to the Angels. And, despite the Fatui being a collective of powers, she has yet to tell the truth of the Angel's disappearance from Teyvat.” Sir explained. He led me back to the bedroom, where I was dressed in a short, black dress. It reminded me of my time training with Tartaglia and company. Sir nods, gently patting my hair and kissing me tenderly. I fell for the soft love, too, kissing him as we laid out on the bed.

And, like clockwork, the transmission was running again. A black screen shows above the bed. The black slowly fades into an image of Tartaglia brushing his teeth. The background appeared similar to the bathroom Tartaglia did the deed. Did Sir know those details, too? 

“We need breakfast, training, lunch, training, dinner, training schedule! Pantalone, you best be ready to give me back my girlfriend,” Tartaglia said. There was a hint of upset in Tartaglia’s voice that sounded authentic. 

“Now, Childe, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  Lumine needs rest before we try training or any other duties. Where are we with getting Pierro here to witness this? I think he’d be thankful we found another powerful one to join our ranks?” Sir asked, Tartaglia shrugging.

“I dunno, usually Dottore or another Harbinger does that duty. Why can’t you?” Tartaglia said, his words muffled by the toothbrush. Sir grunts, shaking his head. I leaned into Sir’s shoulder, resting my chin against his body. Part of me wanted to get a rise out of Tartaglia, force him out of the comfort zone he had with our relationship. 

“I did it last time, remember? I can’t call him twice, he’ll assume it's trouble and nothing positive. You know what you need to do. You did it twice to me already–just give Pierro a transmission call!” Sir said, rolling his eyes at Tartaglia. 

“Fine, fine. But I hope to see you during breakfast, Mai. Heh, I know you prefer that name,” Tartaglia said, sticking out his tongue as he signed off the call. Sir sighs heavily, hands wrapping around me. I relaxed into that touch, scanning Sir’s face. He seemed none the less stressed now that Tartaglia was tangled up in something else.

“You know, I believe it’s time to tell you the truth regarding something. It has to deal with those metal knitted gloves our Archon uses. The choker is only for emergencies, but the gloves serve an important purpose. As you know, Archons tend to have power that most mortals cannot withstand. Visions help but do not make humans invulnerable. Her power, as the eldest Archon, is endless cold. What you experienced in your dream was the Archon’s full power. She did try every attempt to kill you, per you are a distraction from our goal. But, when she sensed the promise you had, she saw your death as needless. Only two other people were able to withstand her cold…sadly neither are still with us. Tartaglia, myself, and other Harbingers have been looking differently these days. Mostly happy, of course. But there are some other people that are awfully jealous they haven’t met the new female Harbinger. So you will need to  continue to do well to keep in good spirits with Tsaritsa. When the plan is in full motion, some people will have to be sacrificed for it to be successful. One of our goals does involve redirecting leylines to where Khaerni’ah no longer has a link to this world. It is the opposite of what the Abyss wants; to return Mondstandt and Liyue to the new Khaerni’ah nation. This involves two Archons, one who held no respect for Khaerni’ah and the other agreed they failed their duty as Archon. The latter being Rex Lapis, the former being that bard Lumine cried about earlier. Both of them used their leverage as Archon to pretend to help her. But, that's neither here nor there. Just be aware that the changes we look to make will have blood spilled, but for a noble cause.” Sir explained. I was starting to get a better sense of the Fatui. It was not that they were inherently evil; there was so much nuance. 

I  returned my focus to Sir, holding me as we laid in bed together. He placed his lips along my neck, biting down hard. I let out a groan, reveling in the pain.

“Bite harder,” I said, Sir immediately giving me what I asked for. Red crimson flowed from my neck. How much? I didn’t care. Was it lethal? Probably not. I smiled, looking toward Sir with appreciation. The pain almost knocks me out, but Sir stops at the last moment, blood dripping from his lips. He licks it up, happily, before letting me in another hug. I touched his soft fabric shirt, those denim pants, and more impressively, his soft stare. There was a calm to this I never thought was possible. Red dots start to fall along Sir’s frame.

“Have you always been so weak, feeble, and needy?” Sir whispered into my ear. I shook my head. I had tried not to be those three things–was Sir questioning something? 

“I, uh. No,” I said, struggling to find the words. Then I felt it–skin against skin along my cheek. Another slap, and another slap–I groaned all the same. Sir’s hand tightly tugged at my hair, so much so I screamed out. Sir chuckled, continuing to pull on my hair. My hands reached upward, powerless to stop Sir from hurting me. The more I screamed, the more Sir laughed. It was always invigorating to hear Sir in high spirits.

“Shh, you look so much better when that mouth of yours is quiet,” Sir whispered into my ear before slapping me once more. My face was starting to form bruises–this was it–the care Sir longed for me.

“Close your eyes,” Sir said. I followed the directions without question. Then I heard some rustling. Was it a new toy? Or was it a new outfit? You hear the ruffling for another minute or so before it ceases. 

“Now, turn around, let me see all of you, my doll,” Sir said, cracking a whip. I laid down on my belly, excited. I had never been whipped by Sir before. I could hear the whip slap my ass, letting out groan after groan. My only protection was a thin, black dress.What could beat this life? With each whip, it felt as if my connection to Sir got stronger. My arms straddled my head, trying my best not to move. But those whip cracks–felt so addicting that I moved on purpose.

After several minutes, I could only imagine how red and crimson my ass was. How ripped and tattered this dress was becoming.  I inhaled sharply, taking my eyes toward the pillows  beside me. I grabbed a pillow, my screams and groans becoming muffled.

“What a poor excuse of a doll,” Sir muttered, cracking the whip on my ass so hard, I could feel the blood exude from such a hit. I did my best to remain quiet as Sir continues to whip every inch of my back and ass. 

“I-I can do better, I promise,” I begged, but the whip kept hitting all the same. 

“No, you’re too needy. Too much of a whore to wait for your master,” Sir said, cracking back the whip before leaving what feels like a large scar along my back. Now, that hit made me worry. He had never been so rough with me in the past. Was all of this truly due to your connection with Tartaglia? 

After several more minutes of impact play(what Sir calls it), I could feel a cool towel against my wounds. I let out softer groans now, almost happy the pain was over. Sir knew just how I liked it. I kept laying on my belly, eyes tracing the pillows for something to do. I dared to make circles along the pillow's soft surface. The silence hangs in the air long, as if Sir was unsure of what came next. It could only be a matter of time before I got the  next assignment. Taking in the time with Sir relaxes me, wiping the blood stains off my back. All of it was deserved–Tartaglia and I did cause quite the scene in Mondstandt. Tartaglia was partly to blame, too–but that did not excuse me from punishment. 

Sir’s bare hands now trace where the whip cracked skin. How could I not enjoy the sizzle it caused up my spine?  This continued for a few moments, before his  arms pulled me right side up again.

Sir’s blue eyes trailed my body, hands greedily grabbing at every bit of skin I had. I exhaled, relaxing, glad to be back in Sir’s bed. My eyes connect with his while my hands tug at his frame. Sir lays beside me, holding me by the waist.

“I am concerned about you and that boy Tartaglia. There’s no telling what’s on his mind now that there’s his current girlfriend and his fuck buddy readily available,” Sir said. I tilted my head at such words. Lumine was…but wouldn’t that mean..? I exhaled, frustrated at the events. 

“You knew but didn’t tell me? Why Sir?” I asked, pulling my arms around his waist. There was that silence again. More questions kept entering my head. Was it always this way–was he expecting Lumine and I to never meet? 

“None of my concern. And it should not bother you either. Tartaglia will have to come clean someday. And this failure of communication  is an eyesore to the entirety of our ranks. Please be mindful about this, especially around Pierro,” Sir said, tracing circles along my body. It was hard to tell Sir what his true mood was. Sir’s arm wrapped  around me tight, his forehead gently touching my own.

“I only told you out of awareness of our boss visiting shortly. No need to fight or get upset over something trivial like this. I am already doing a better job of briefing you while feeding our fantasies. After putting your wounds on ice for a bit, you’ll need to prepare dinner,” Sir explained, letting go of my waist.  With a gentle tap from Sir, I flipped back on my belly once more. Sir began to place the bags of ice along my frame, including on my face where the bruising was the worst. There was our usual half an hour of silence, where Sir went to balance the tills across Teyvat. And I stayed, cold, waiting for the ice to do its work with my cuts and bruises. But, one thing did strike my mind. When was Pierro to come? And how to address Sir–that was important.

“Understood. Do I need to call you by your code name when he’s around–not just Sir?” I asked. Sir sighed, pulling off the ice bags. There was that silence again–was Sir conflicted with his answer? Or was it not that simple when it came to Pierro?

“Well, stick with Pantalone when he is around. He isn’t very privy to the ongoings of things when he is gone. So, best play it safe. I’ll give you some time to rest before you prepare dinner. Remember; we will have at least four present, nine with Knave’s cohort here too–and our leader’s dragon Paimon. Let’s try something simple–sandwiches, pasta. Something that won’t ruin that ragdoll body of yours,” Sir said, reverting to a whisper in my ear for the last bit. I nodded, accepting my duty. It would hurt my body–but I couldn’t let my Sir down, right?

“Will I get a new dress before I leave to cook?” I asked. A loud laugh came from Sir, a laughter that brought him to tears. As always, I was left in the dark until the last moment. I let the minutes tick by. Even for a punishment it felt extreme. But something about the extremity made me more focused than ever.

“No. Take this as your punishment for causing a scene in Mondstandt. Our diplomats nearly lost their cover when they saw what you two did,” Sir said, getting dressed himself. He wore his usual garbs–heavy coat, glasses, and some nice dress slacks. But I was to cook with a tattered dress with so many wounds on me?  Deep down, I was beginning to wonder if this were to piss Tartaglia off as well. I wasn’t allowed to think much else, when Sir gently patted my shoulders.

“Ready to cook?” Sir asked. I quickly nodded to him, pulling myself up and off the bed. A bright portal shone before me, a string of pearls showing up transparently. Was this my portal? I took steps toward the portal, only to be shoved into it by Sir. Strings of pearls line the mystic hallway, walking forward. I couldn’t believe how high tech things were getting for me. Perhaps I was becoming part of this family.

Soon the kitchen came into view, but it was not empty. A whistle comes from the corner, revealing a cooking traveler. Paimon flies over, looking excited.

“Tartaglia challenged Lumine to a spar! But we decided to just cook instead.  He told us to tell you so you could be the referee! Tartaglia was all ‘its not fair if its Paimon’ and ‘If I offer Paimon food, I’ll easily be the winner’! Just because it’s true doesn't mean he can just say that!”  Paimon spoke. You take steps toward the oven, where the Traveler is making a mixture of dishes. I could barely understand where each one originated, nonetheless how much it smelled. Mixture of eggs, toast, and some sort of seafood boil. All of the burners were occupied by a different dish. I would need to thank Lumine later for taking the burden off your bruised body.

“Hey, so I take it, you cook often too, Lumine?” I asked, trying to push the discussion with Sir to  back of my mind. Lumine nods, effortlessly stirring and tasting each dish. 

“Lumine has been super helpful with cooking! She’s even making a dish from each of the four nations we recently visited. Sumeru, Natlan, Fontaine, and Inazuma! I wanted a sticky pot roast but Traveler said we shouldn’t be so greedy for the ingredients. But, then Paimon reminded her she’s technically evil now. Right, Lumine?” Paimon said, placing her hands on her sides and huffing. Lumine laughs at Paimon’s antics, gradually turning off each burner.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Paimon,” I said, watching the little gluttonous fairy fly back to Lumine.

“Technically, we have no clue where to go when the food’s done. Mai, would you be able to lead us to the dining room,” Lumine asked. I nodded, brandishing my delusion. I do a quick explanation that the hallways are linked to our visions and/or delusions. It felt strange–I was the new girl once, and now Lumine was. Even if your boyfriend decided to cheat–why did it matter? Your and Sir had your own dynamic, for Tartaglia and Lumine, it was likely the same. 

Shortly, the hallway ends and we are in the familiar dining room area. A large, long table takes up space in the spacious dining hall. You forget your manners (as Sir would say) in informing Lumine where to sit. You usually sat on Sir’s lap–perhaps Tartaglia would offer something similar too.

Sir, Tartaglia, and Dottore were present so far. Sir said furthest from Dottore. Sir waves me over the moment I got close enough to help organize the food. I gently place each entree and side dish along the table with Lumine.

“Wow  Pantalone. We have two great cooks now, and equally great fighters. Of cour–” Dottore said, but Tartaglia immediately stood from his seat grinning.

“Well, well, dinner time! You see, Lumine. You and Mai don’t have chairs yet. These chairs are highly sensitive to their Owner pre say. Now Mai usually sits on Pantalone’s lap–so feel free to saddle up on me,” Tartaglia said, a grin spread across his face. I made no comment, simply taking my seat along with Sir. His arms wrap around my waist, squeezing me close. I smiled, wrapping an arm around his in return. Lumine appears confused and so does Paimon.

“Wait, so you’re telling me you had this sort of technology all of this time!?! I just wonder why you w–” Paimon said, but Lumine had to cover her mouth.

“My apologies, my constituent is very…hangry. Are you sure there’s no other–” Lumine said, but Knave snaps her fingers, entering with her children.

“Don’t dare trick that girl into sitting in your lap. Traveler, feel free to sit in my chair. I am going to debrief you all on our, potentially final, mission,” the Knave said, entering from a deep red portal.  Lumine nods, taking a seat to the left of me. To the right, lay a disappointed Tartaglia.

“It’s not fair you try to ruin all the fun,” Tartaglia said, huffing. I smiled, glad to see Lumine wasn’t *too* attached to Tartaglia. I can acknowledge how jealous that was, but it could not be avoided. I felt like an only child that just got a younger sibling: somewhat annoyed and needy. You blush, realizing this is what Sir meant by being needy. The Traveler nods to everyone, gesturing to people to try some of the delicious food she made. 

Dottore, per usual, took his share first. He whistles as he looks at each of the options, pulling a bit of every nation’s cuisine.

“Ah, this is perfect! You two gals can exchange cooking shifts. Maybe even make a chore wheel too!” Dottore said, then went off ramblings in another tangent. 

“I fear that I am too sick to eat. Especially with a fox in our leagues,” Sir said, glaring over at Tartaglia. You wonder; was Sir jealous of him bagging Lumine already? But–a sudden memory flashes into your mind. You briefly recall what Tartaglia said during your first time.

“...but it’s for the best! Besides, I tend to get very rough when I get into things. Don’t want to have you screaming or anything like that. Or–wait, did you want me to take things slower with you? My apologies. It’s just…been so long. Since I even dated” Tartaglia said back then. A sudden new insight came into play–Sir never mentioned Lumine’s consent. Meaning…Tartaglia had the same exact plan. It was hiding in plain sight with what he wanted–and I would not stand for such a messy situation. Did Lumine even recall the memories of being turned out by Tartaglia?!? You try to remain calm, like Sir, but it was becoming obvious by the second what he wanted.

“Traveler, let’s spar when you feel better! We have our own training grounds where we can practice our prowess. No need to worry about destruction. Oh, and I need to show you a few other places too, like the surgery room and our weapons room. You’re gonna love it here Traveler,” Tartaglia yapped. Paimon looked more suspicious the more Tartaglia spoke.

“Hey, wait a minute! She only agreed to help find her brother, remember? Don’t you guys have an ‘honorary knight’ title that Lumine can use?” Paimon asked. Laughter erupted in the room.

“Oh dear Paimon, may that mouth of yours stay shut should Pierro arrive. He will not tolerate such an egregious suggestion. Fatui aims to achieve multiple goals, there’s no such thing as an ‘Honorary Knight’. Come to think of it, we need to give Lumine a code name.  Hmmm…we’ll come back to that another time.” Knave spoke, her children and herself eating the Fontaine dishes.  Paimon rubs her head, flying over to grab herself some food.

“Now that we’ve all sat down and started eating, I will explain Phase two. Once the Pyro gnosis has been obtained, we dig deep holes across Teyvat. Specifically, the leylines that interweave Liyue, Mondstandt, and The Chasm. The Chasm is where a lot of the ley line issues centrally meet up. The ley lines will soon output a high amount of fetor-like substance, or FL for short. The non-vision users will develop sickness and terrible headaches should this issue be left unchecked. That will increase the amount of need for monster slaying above the nature of adventurers work. Even vision users, when surrounded by the FL(fetor-like), will cause them to act irrationally. It is in our best interest to dig these holes and bury the gnosis inside. With the use of seven of them, across Teyvat, we can only hope it is enough to fix the leyline issues. Any questions?” Knave explained, walking around the table. I nodded, so did other members.

“But that’s just a theory, isn’t it? The god’s hardly save their own people these days–I counter that we use all the gnosis to create a machine instead. That way, if it breaks down, we can go to plan B. Plan B involves a lot more manpower that we cannot extend. Having an underling look over each one is bound to cause failure. Even if, hmm, one moment here…what if we treated Plan B like Lantern Rite? The seven and eight gate principle could be enough to shove all that bad leyline energy while cleansing  the leylines themselves. From my intelligence, and correct me if I am mistaken Lumine, is that you cannot be obfuscated, correct?” Dottore said, quickly becoming serious as his face appears more serious. I look between Knave and Dottore, wondering what would occur next. 

“I do respect your outside opinion, Doctor. But wouldn't we need all of our harbingers for guarding holes?...Hmm. Maybe the seven and eight gate process wouldn’t be as harsh if we knew someone who has done it before,” Knave said, turning to face Lumine and Paimon. Paimon finishes scarfing down a piece of meat, flying over to the Knave. 

“No way! I don’t agree with this plan at all. The only reason why Lumine did it last time was to save Hu Tao!” Paimon objects, flying over to Lumine now.

“Well, Paimon, how many people could be saved due to this loophole The Traveler found? Many. But if you wish to weigh the few against the many, I’d believe you’re the true evil one here yes? We simply are doing this to keep the ley lines under control,” Knave stated, “Plus all those cooks and meats and treats would no longer exist. Is that the future you want?” Paimon started crying at the thought, Lumine pulling her from the air and along her chest.

“Paimon, we can’t act like this once the leader arrives. I can only imagine how brutal he can be based off of meeting with the Cyro Archon. For now, we must work together to stop the calamity,” Lumine whispered to Paimon. Paimon nods, flying out of her arms and above her head.

“Uh, Paimon didn’t realize how serious this was…sorry,” Paimon apologized. Knave shakes her head, walking toward Lumine.

“We’ve been keeping a close track of your actions. Pulling someone out from the afterlife is not something normal people can do. You have a gift Traveler, face it. And if we’re going to fix the leylines, you are a crucial part to it. I saw your morality in action in Fontaine, and that was maintained in Natlan. For now, at least..hmmm. Perhaps I will visit Columbina in Natlan while you get Hu Tao’s advice on this Seven and Eight gate ritual we are thinking of. That way, you, Pantalone, Tartaglia, and [REDACTED] can travel together. That will also leave the harder bits for Columbina and I. If we were not to succeed, you will be next in the ranks to challenge Mauvika, Lumine.” Knave said.  Paimon thinks for a bit before nodding.

“Now *that’s* a mission we can handle,” Paimon said happily, flying over for another piece of meat. She scarfs it down like before. 

“Father, where should we be for backup?” Lyney asked. 

“Please, we want to help too,” Fremient added.

After a period of silence, you hear Knave sigh. She shakes her head, sitting on a chair that appears midair.

“We will discuss this later, children. Given  the complexity of the upcoming events, I believe there are better roles that fit your status,” Knave said, grabbing some more pasta from the table. The others follow suit, filling their plates with Lumine’s cooking. There was that familiar quiet, like a home–a family. You continue to eat, the cooking reminding you of a chef back home. Their cooking was only rivaled by how good their pastries were.  The meal continues with simple banter now.

“Wow, Lumine, I hadn’t a clue you were a good cook! This tastes amazing. Perhaps I should have asked you out sooner,” Tartaglia said. You see a blush over Lumine’s face, unsure of what to say. Paimon flies over to Tartaglia, blowing raspberries at him.

“You don’t get a pass to flirt since you’re in the same group now. We know how battle hungry you are,” Paimon said, eying Tartaglia. He laughs, running his fingers through his hair.

“Ah, you got me as usual Paimon. Don’t want some boy rolling around with Lumine,” Tartaglia jokes, eating a few potatoes from the Sumeru dish. 

“Tartaglia simply wants what he cannot have. And that alone makes it all the more amusing when he tries to court people,” Dottore said, weaving a toothpick around his teeth. 

“What do you mean? You think Lumine hasn’t asked me out a few times, huh?” Tartaglia added. Now the entire situation was becoming strange. Was Lumine deeply depraved and dark-sided like you? Or was she unaware of her being used as a flesh toy?

“Now now, everyone. With everyone heading to Liyue, how about Tartaglia and Lumine go a day ahead? So you two can do all the sparring you wish. {REDACTED} and I have plans for tonight, so unable to leave to do so,” Sir said. There was a sound of whistling across the table, face beet red. Paimon flies over in confusion, exchanging looks between you, Sir, and Tartaglia.  

“What’s to say Lumine and I *don’t* have plans?” Tartaglia asked, pushing out of his seat and facing Sir and I. I gulped–was this going to be the same as last time? You hear Lumine stand to her feet.

“I believe he wanted  to challenge me…could we do that now perhaps? Or do you think that the food you ate will slow you down?” Lumine said, a glint of  eagerness in her eyes. Tartaglia audibly  gasps in excitement, his narwhal portal opening up.

“Come on Mai, you gotta be the referee. You’re the only one that’s not biased or easily bought with food.

“Hey!” Dottore and Paimon spoke, soon laughing at each other's proclivities. You stand, Sir still sitting. Now your scars were revealed to everyone, as  you walked toward the Narwal portal. 

“Woah, is Mai going to be okay? Or should I say {REDACTED}? Eh, Mai’s easier to say,” Paimon said, flying over to the Narwhal portal. Soon enough, we were surrounded by blue strobing lights with the narwhal symbol over the top.

“Looks like an eventful night’s afoot, Pantalone,” Dottore said, grinning as he saw Lumine and I side to side. I gulped–I did not want to hurt Lumine in that way. But if that’s how she liked it…then there would be no harm. All four of us went through the portal, Paimon’s amazement was a bit overzealous.

“Why don’t you share this technology with other people? I'm sure people could use this for good, not for bad–morally gray things? Is Paimon being neutral enough?” Paimon asked, turning to Lumine. Lumine simply laughs in return. Before we knew it, the training grounds were in our sights. As we entered the expansive training area, Tartaglia immediately pulled off his shirt.

“Don’t need clothes to bog me down, ref, tell me when to start the sparring match,” Tartaglia said, winking as he did some knowing stretches toward my way. Paimon flies to my side as Lumine readies her sword. I raised my hand up to the ceiling before quickly bringing it back to my level.

“Fight!” I declared, Paimon excitedly dancing in the air. The way they moved showed the leagues they were ahead of me in battle. Both were equally good, rushing and dodging each one of the other's limbs. Paimon watches with high anticipation, excitedly watching them from left to right. 

“Ah, you’ve gotten faster since we last met,” Tartaglia comments, her sword blocking an attempted slash along her back.

“Maybe you're just out of practice,” Lumine responds. Tartaglia laughs at such a comment, doing a giant backflip to his original position. He brandishes his weapons. But, as the battle ensued, it showed just how even their strength was. Both sweaty and breathing heavy, I decided to call the match.

“Tie. Neither of you win, but also, neither of you lose,” I said, clapping. It was amazing seeing what a true warrior looked like in battle. You were still learning in comparison to them. Biting my lip, I hummed.

“So, Lumine. I have this question for you. You know how Mai’s my girlfriend right?” Tartaglia asked, Lumine nodding thoughtfully.

“And you know, well…back when you first asked me out?” Tartaglia said, scratching his head, “Maybe talking over smoothies would help?” Paimon wiggles at the thought of a smoothie, going on a tangent about the different drinks they’ve tried during their journey. I swallowed, hard. Was Tartaglia really going to fuck Lumine while she was unaware. Was this…ethical? I had to figure it out, before it was too late. You did have a favor owed to Lumine, after all.

Chapter Text

Lumine’s P.O.V

Fighting Tartaglia as a spar instead of a life or death battle was good. It still irked me that they were leaning toward making my role permanent in their organization. All I wanted was a temporary role, like Paimon said. But I couldn’t negotiate with that alone. The Harbingers seemed to have found a liking to me, which I appreciated to some degree.

“...Maybe talking over smoothies would help?” Tartaglia suggested. I nodded quickly, looking over at Mai’s blank face. Was something wrong? The group followed Tartaglia through his light strobing hallway. 

“Traveler, this is going to be an awesome smoothie! I never knew Tartaglia could make anything besides a seafood boil,” Paimon said, laughing.

“Now Now Paimon, let’s not get too accusatory. Tartaglia may ask for a spar if you keep that up,” I said, Paimon blushing and hiding behind me. There was a lull, walking in an endless hallway to the kitchen. I was beginning to wonder how the building itself was structured, given the seemingly magic way to get from room to room. It wasn’t long until we saw a familiar sight, the kitchen. No one was there, so it would be a perfect time to ask Tartaglia questions.

“So…about what you tried to talk about before,” I asked, placing a hand on my chest. It was a lot to handle and take in–Tartaglia could actually be yours in a normal sense. But what about Mai? And what would the other Harbingers think?

“Eh, let’s wait until the smoothies are done. Then I think we’ll all be much more clear headed,” Tartaglia mentioned, grabbing a variety of fruit and vegetables and placing them in the blender. Whatever these smoothies were, Tartaglia was putting a lot of love into them.

“Traveler, this is going to be an epic smoothie. Oo, can Paimon have one too!?” Paimon asked, floating around Tartaglia. He laughs, shooing her away.

“Of course Paimon, I can’t leave you out after all,” Tartaglia whistled, pouring drink after drink. Mai was quieter than usual. I couldn’t make out if that was a good or bad thing. It wasn’t long until all of us had smoothies in hand, drinking happily. Except Mai–her drink remained untouched on the table.

“Alright, now that everyone has a treat, let’s discuss uh. Our relationship! I am dating Mai and want to date you too, Traveler. What do you say?” Tartaglia asked. I put on a thinking face, unsure of how to answer. What if the Harbingers ended up being truly evil? Or if Tartaglia was wanting a deeper relationship to spite Mai?

“Uhm..” I started to say, but Paimon flew down, placing her smoothie on the table, and went to sleep. I took a look at my own smoothie, using my elemental vision. Before I could replyt, I could feel my eyes starting to close. 

“What is…going on,” I spoke, falling to my knees. 

“Oh dear, Lumine, I thought you wouldn’t knock out easily. That’s why I gave you a higher dose than when I drugged Mai,” Tartaglia mentioned, taking a few steps back, “Can you still hear me?” 

The voice was starting to fade. I looked over to Mai, smoothie untouched. She knew…and didn’t warn me? She had it happen to her too? Was this…the true catharsis? 

I struggled to get up on my feet, only for Tartaglia to rush behind me, holding me by the shoulders. His arms looped through my arms to get easy access to my shoulders. With each squeeze, the knockout medication spread further.

“Why…” was all I could say. Whatever Tartaglia put into the smoothies, it felt like it could knock me unconscious for hours.

“Simply rule my silly girl: never accept a drink you hadn’t been watching,” Mai said, her voice sounding further and further away. I shook my head, upset at my own actions. Paimon was knocked out, cold, meaning she couldn’t help either.

“Paimon’s gonna get a feast by IL Dottore. Don’t worry, it's just normal food. But you…you need to come back…then we…and we’ll also…” Tartaglia said, his words now fading in and out. I struggled to stand, but as I fell, Tartaglia caught me. He held me in his arms, soon to flip my body over his back. I exhaled, slow, trying to stay awake. But, despite how much I wanted to stay awake, I fell asleep quickly.

Mai’s POV

It wasn’t too long after Lumine passed out that Tartaglia laughed. He had the girl slinged over his shoulder like some sort of hunted game. Tartaglia whistles at me over, using his free hand to grope and grab my ass. I blushed at this, trying to fit an arm around his waist. Since Lumine’s body was in the way–I simply held his free hand instead. There was a silence that followed, effortlessly going wherever Tartaglia went. And, in this case, it appeared to be his bedroom. He places Lumine’s body onto the bed. After, he began to slowly take off his clothes, a certain glint in his eyes. Was I really just the side piece here–or did he just enjoy fucking Lumine while unconscious? I had to say something, and quickly.

“Why not take me?” I asked, before he could move toward Lumine for a kiss. Tartaglia turns to face me, waving me over.

“Never said I wouldn’t take you. You’re my girlfriend after all, Mai. If you really cared about what happened, you should have told them not to drink the smoothie. Unless..you’re becoming more like us?” Tartaglia asked, moving closer to me. I shrugged, unsure of how to answer that question. My boyfriend walks over to me , giving me a tight hug. He lowers his head to whisper something.

“She’ll never know, it won’t hurt her, right?” Tartaglia whispered, “I’ll use protection and make sure her body isn’t bruised.” This was a new level of insanity you found in the Harbingers. Was Marionette the only safe spot here? I held the hug as long as Tartaglia let me, shooing me off after a few more squeezes.

“I don’t get why you’re so concerned now. You had no issue with me doing the same to you…you even enjoyed it,” Tartaglia muttered, delicately taking the clothes off of Lumine. I was a different person, with different boundaries. How could he just happily do whatever he wanted to Lumine’s body? I walked over to my boyfriend, opening my arms, as if it would stop Tartaglia. I watched  as he continued to undress  himself.  Was my worrying pointless–or was it my attitude that got us here?  I could feel Tartaglia gripe and grope your body, muttering something about me being impatient. Was he not the one trying to fuck a passed out woman? I grumbled, still holding his frame. If I could drag things out…that would mean Lumine would go unscathed.

“Hm, so my girlfriend is too jealous to watch. Would  you prefer a threesome then, honey?” Tartaglia asked, wrapping a hand around mine. There was a voice, loud, within me screaming not to take that offer. But instead of listening to that voice, my lips pressed hard against Tartaglia. He made quick work of removing my clothes. Soon, I was naked just like the other two. Tartaglia kept his attention on me, sucking along the curve of my neck. I could smell that Glazed Lily cologne again, the more he tended to me. His arms wandered my body, making brief stops at my breast and groin. He would switch between massaging my tits and putting three fingers inside of me. I couldn’t help but to moan out loud, squirming in arousal. 

“That’s it, that's my girl Mai,” Tartaglia whispered into my ear. I could feel his hands wander along my figure again, tugging and squeezing my breasts with his hands. I leaned into him, teasingly pressing my ass against his groin. I could hear him chuckle before spinning  me around to face him. Tartaglia’s face was full of lust, licking his lips as his eyes traced my figure. His blue eyes then avert to the sleeping Lumine. He hums, rubbing the bottom of his chin. What could my boyfriend be scheming now? 

“Close your eyes, I’ll be right back,” Tartaglia instructed. I followed without question, hoping this was not his way of pushing me aside for Lumine. I could hear steps close and then they sounded distant. Then there was silence again. That was until I heard a clicking sound. When my eyes opened, I noticed I was handcuffed to the bed Lumine was asleep on.  Two hands were snugly held by  the metal restraints, wrapping twice around the bedpost. I turned to my boyfriend, who was laughing.

“Now now, a good girl waits for their turn,” Tartaglia said. I looked up, trying to move or get out of the handcuffs. But they were so tight–and felt impossible to remove. My eyes moved to the sleeping Lumine, Tartaglia making his way onto the bed. His nude body was just above Lumine’s, as if to admire her beauty. Was I not beautiful enough for him? I tried to fight my insecurities as he got closer, kissing her cheek, rubbing her hair, stroking her body.

His red hair covers his kisses along Lumine's neck, the sound of sucking very audible. What happened to not leaving bruises–leaving Lumine unharmed?

“That’ll leave a mark you know,” I said, grumbling. Tartaglia laughs at me, giving me a quick glance and wink. Then, my boyfriend turned back to Lumine, gently kissing along her neck, leaving some bit imprints here and there. My body was upset–but my eyes could not look away. Tartaglia continued to lay soft kiss upon soft kiss to Lumine’s face. It did anger me–but what made me most upset was your boyfriend lying to you. He couldn’t just get away with this without complaint. Sir was right–he was treating me differently now that Lumine was in. I watch as he adjusts his groin–wait–no condom? 

“Why aren’t you using protection??” I questioned. To that, Tartaglia laughed even more. He continues to straddle  Lumine, looking for the perfect angle it seemed. I was left with no power and all of the pain. Why had I not listened to Sir earlier? Your eyes are unable to look away as Tartaglia begins thrusting into the unconscious Lumine. Her body moves with each thrust Tartaglia makes. He continued this, gradually moving faster while he held Lumine down with both hands. My boyfriend takes a quick look at me, eyes staring at each other for mere seconds before he returns to tending to Lumine. 

“The real question is, why do you have your eyes open? I–I wanted you to be a part of it but not–if that makes sense,” Tartaglia said as he thrusted into Lumine. I sighed. Your boyfriend chose a bad time to be snippy. And the action he was performing now, was it…ethical? Lumine never got a chance to answer if she wanted to date him or not. And–without any warning–he was on top of her, fucking Lumine. Why did that thought make me so angry–frustrated–-borderline manic. But, I kept it in. I simply watched the ongoings as if it were a movie.

“I don’t know,” I responded. Tartaglia speeds up more, leaning over to give Lumine’s lips a few more sloppy kisses. Tartaglia’s face glides from Lumine’s lips down toward her shoulder, leaving more and more love bites. Why wasn’t this me? Why did he choose her over me? 

Tartaglia returns to thrusting–this time it was long, hard thrusts. I  was  unable to see Tartaglia’s face, unsure if he was getting close to being satisfied or wanted more time with Lumine.  The thrusting goes on for what feels like forever in your eyes. You notice Tartaglia abruptly stops mid thrusts. You hear him moaning–and from what you could see–cumming right into Lumine’s cunt. DId he really expect anyone not to notice this? 

“Okay, well sorry Mai, I’m all out of juice for today. Next time you’ll go first, kay?” Tartaglia said. It was like he did not process the several things wrong with what he did. Or was it that he knew, but did not care?

“Well, aren’t you going to clean her up? Make her feel a bit less used?” I asked. Tartaglia shrugs, moving back to the floor to do some stretches.

“I always go back and forth with her. I love to see her reaction to what went down below her waist…but another part of me always cleans it up. The last time I did this–maybe a few months ago–I left it there. Since Lumine technically isn’t part of this world, she can’t get pregnant. Even if I came five times, there would be no baby.” Tartaglia explained, moving toward my handcuffs. It all was disgusting if Lumine was not in on it. Back when I used to work at the restaurant, you recall some pretty insidious people who would drug people like Lumine was drugged. But…my anger had dissipated. The anger flew from my body as I watched Tartaglia take advantage of Lumine. Was this catharsis? Or was it another section of myself I was learning more about? 

“But…then, she knows, right?” I asked. There that annoying silence was again. I watched as Tartaglia got dressed without a word. I kept my patience, hoping it would be rewarded by learning this. Once Tartaglia was finished, he laid the clothes Lumine had on along the headboard of the bed.

“Listen. The way Lumine and I do things should not be expressed. Everyone’s got privacy around something in their lives. Like your real name for example, [REDACTED] is such–” Tartaglia said, but I screamed at the implications. I never got to choose my name…and how did that translate to taking advantage of a girl? 

Tartaglia sits close to me, watching my struggle. I could hear his boisterous laughter echo in my ears. I continued to try and get out of the handcuffs, red puffy indents of the metal showing along my wrists. I turned to Tartaglia, weariness in my eyes.

“Can I get out of these now?” I asked. Tartaglia shook his head no, taking a more comfortable stature.

“How about this–we wait for Lumine to wake up. Then you should get all of those questions you have answered. All I can say is that you two are more alike than you think,” Tartaglia said, his eyes fixated on the sleeping Lumine. You remain quiet, waiting for the minutes to tick by quickly. After about half an hour, you begin to hear Lumine wake up. She sounds calm, not even distressed about the state her body was in now. Tartaglia hopped up, smiling ear to ear. 

“How did you sleep, Lumine?” Tartaglia asked, raising to his feet and observing her body. Lumine sighs, stretching. How was she…and he was…that was it. I used my elemental prowess to attempt to break the cuffs I was in. I pull and pull fruitlessly, small bits of bruises and blood forming along my wrists. Sir did much to you–this had to be a cake walk. But, during your struggles, you hear Lumine stand, the cum in her cunt dripping to the floor below. You gulp–was she upset too? 

“That’s cruel of you to have her watch, Tartaglia. We have our own secrets, no need to spill them everywhere,” Lumine said with a huff, “And you didn’t even clean me out. This is the second time, this had to be done on purpose.” I could feel myself reeling at the revelations. Lumine wanted that of Tartaglia–to be passed out and used as a flesh toy? Perhaps there was more to Lumine than I expected.

“Ah, now. We’ll figure out how we can share one another in due time. But let’s s–” Tartaglia began to say, but a transmission was playing above you all. Staring upward, you see a bored Dottore. 

“Ah, boring. I was expecting more drama, you know. Pierro will be present today. Get presentable, and less kinky. Yeah, that latter part bums me out too. But we gotta make sure he understands how close we are to this mission,” Dottore said. I exhaled, upset, confused–stuck.

“Yeah, I wish I could get ready. I’m currently hancuff–” I started to say, but Dottore raised a finger.

“Now, now, girl. None of this sassiness at the meeting. Childe, get the girl out of those elemental cuffs. It would not help us to show such intimacy in the company of our superiors.” Dottore said. I smiled at those words. Perhaps Dottore was on my side too, along with Sir?

Once the handcuffs were removed, I stood. I took practice steps as my legs were cramped from sitting there for the past hour. Lumine helped me regain balance, Tartaglia still looking straight at the screen.

“Dottore, I may have to start charging you if you watch me this closely,” Tartaglia said, laughing soon after. Lumine also laughs too. Wait–was everyone in on it besides me? I sighed, looking around the room. That must mean we should start prepping dinner. 

Paimon flies into view, seeming full from all the dishes Dottore made.

“Hey Lumine! We’re doing dinner today so you two c…ahh! Why did you tell me to say hi to them, Dottore?!?? Mai and Lumine are naked! Uh, Paimon and Dottore will fix dinner, you just need to be presentable,” Paimon said, immediately turning away from the transmission as she saw how bare we were. All of us laughed at that, shaking our heads and smiling at one another.

“Got it Paimon. I’ll see you at dinner,” Lumine said, waving to Dottore and Paimon. The transmission ends shortly after that.

“Sorry about that Lumine.  Dottore likes to get invested in other people’s lives. It’s been like this since he deleted all of his segments. He thinks of us as his personal drama show. The group’s been debating just giving him a vacation in Fontaine so he can watch actual dramas. But, well, we’re so close to our goal–” Tartaglia said.

“What is our goal?” Lumine and I asked at the same time. Tartaglia starts to put on his fancier clothes–the one with the fluffy white and grey coat. Lumine cleans herself off in the shower. And I, I just sat. I was unsure of what to think about anything anymore. Did everyone have these kinks or hidden likes? You remain on the floor before Tartaglia hands you a tight, black dress.

“This one fits too tight on Lumine. I want you to give it a try. Can’t have Pierro see all those scars Pantalone and I gave you,” said Tartaglia. You slip into the black dress, it fits well but a bit on the tight side. Tartaglia comes toward you now, but this time with matching gloves. I pulled the gloves over my hands, feeling elegant. The all black dress was made of a tight, nylon-esque fabric. Each and every scar was well hidden with the gloves and dress combination. Lumine comes out of showering, wearing a dolphin towel. It made me upset somehow, with Lumine having more knowledge than I did for Tartaglia’s room. 

“Ok, what’s next?” Lumine asked. Her body remained naked, Tartaglia searching his cabinet for anything for Lumine to wear. He eventually sighs, removing his coat and handing it to Lumine. He also hands over some basic shorts and shirt to wear underneath the coat. 

“Try that on, see if it fits okay.” Tartaglia said to Lumine. Lumine nods, slipping on the shirt and boxers then the coat itself. The coat itself hides a lot of Lumine’s body, from her shoulders, down to her shoes. I could hear a pleasant whistle from Tartaglia’s mouth, extending an arm to you and Lumine.

“Are you ready to do some more practicing?” Tartaglia said, sounding way too excited for it per usual.  Lumine and I both shake our heads no, gesturing to the bed. Tartaglia whistles at this.

“So, a cuddle puddle it’ll be then,” Tartaglia said, “But let me change the sheets first.” Tartaglia quickly strips the bed, throwing the old ones in a basket and grabbing a different pair in another basket. 

A dolphin with a hydro symbol is neatly knitted on the bed. The sheets came first, then the dolphin knitted cover. Tartaglia hops into the bed, waving Lumine and I over. I took initiative, laying on the bed and holding Tartaglia close. 

“H-Hey now, Lumine’s gotta fit in the bed too,” Tartaglia said. I could hear Lumine lay down beside me. I shifted, moving so that one arm was under each person. I squeezed them both close, trying to figure out if this worked for me.

“Hey, this is nice. A little cuddle session before we start the last phase of things. Also, hey, did you hear? We’re being deployed to Liyue now. We’ll get to see a new culture, another new thing. I visited some time ago, but haven’t been back since Lumine and I sparred. Let’s try to plan a group date then, yeah?” Tartaglia asked. Lumine and I both agreed, squeezing each other fondly. The silence had comfort this time, my boyfriend cuddling me and Lumine. If this was how it was supposed to be (and not sprung on me as a surprise), I would be okay with it.

Problem is, which did Tartaglia love more: Lumine or me? 

Chapter Text

Mai’s P.O.V

It was time to meet with Pierro again. I sat along Sir’s lap, his arms securely wrapped along my waist. The food Dottore made was delicious–who knew he could cook food at this level? I stayed quiet for the most part, waiting for the 1st Harbinger to make his appearance. 

“Ah, glad to see everyone is enjoying my food! I don’t cook often, but when I do, it’s a joy to all,” Dottore said between chomps of food.

“Hey! Paimon helped too!” Paimon screamed, stomping her feet in the air. This got a round of loud laughter from all surrounding the table. Lumine even stifles a laugh too.

I decided to observe Lumine sitting on Tartaglia’s lap as he fed her food. I gripped Sir’s hand as I watched it, a soft laugh coming from him. I could feel his head move toward my ear, blowing at it for a second.

“Ah, is that a tinge of jealousy I feel?” Sir whispered. I kept my mouth shut even now, not wanting to admit anything. The wall several meters ahead of me showed the large, expansive hallway. Pierro was making his appearance, and conversations ended quickly at the table. Eyes were on Pierro, from his hallway right to his seat at the head of the table.

“Well, Pierro, this is our newest member. Remember that girl that managed to beat me in the Liyue? Well–she’s joining our ranks! She’s a being outside of this world. She travels worlds, all this–” Tartaglia said, but Sir cleared his throat loudly.

“What Tartaglia means to say is that we found a suitable new member. Her name is Lumine. We’ve all taken a close look at her combat skills, critical thinking skills, and wit. She will be a competent Harbinger,” Sir explained. Pierro claps with a grin on his face.

“So we finally convinced her to join us. Very well, much appreciated Lumine,” Pierro gestures to Lumine, “We’ll make Tartaglia your travel companion.” Pierro's face turns more serious, eyes gazing across the dinner table. He then folds his hands upon one another, closing his eyes in what looks to be prayer.

“Everyone, let’s start this meeting to mourn for our Harbinger Captiano. He has…given his life to save Natlan,” Pierro said,

“We will forever revel in his memory, his dedication, his passion. For now that he’s passed on, we will need a new person to collect the Pyro gnosis. Columbina has agreed to go, along with Marionette. We must continue to make progress toward our goals. We have a financial debacle in Liyue, which we will assign to Pantalone and Pearls. Tartaglia and Lumine will show up  as backup, as we are unsure what level of threat will be faced there. Then, if the Pyro gnosis is still not obtained, the Liyue group will join Marionette and Columbina. We cannot fail when we are so close to our ideal vision.” Pierro said, his eyes turning toward the food. Dottore claps, exclaiming how this and that were made by his hand. The conversation on the table turns much friendlier than your first induction. Was Lumine really all that different from you? Jealousy began to build more, my mouth quiet as I ate off of Sir’s plate. 

“When would you like our departure to be? We had planned for a week from today. We can move out earlier if needed,” Sir said, carefully cutting his steak and eating it off the fork. Pierro hums a bit, before raising his hand. The quiet chatter dissipates, as all members were at attention to Pierro. He clears his throat as he faces Lumine. 

“Lumine, I am sure you have many questions regarding your brother's whereabouts. Would you like to discuss this now?” Pierro asked, Lumine’s eyes perking up at the mention of her brother. She nods, gesturing for Pierro to continue his train of thought.

“Very well then. Your brother was taken by the Abyss many moons ago. They found his resistance to their powress astounding, inviting him to the order instead of trying to kill him. He saw the evil in this world and wanted to destroy it all. He went through many phases of existence as he remained part of the Abyssal order for many years. He watched as people of Khaenri'ah were stricken with curses. The curse of immortality was one thing–but for the weaker souls–they gained immortality in  a monster silhouette. All that you see as you journey Teyvat are endless hilichurls amid other beasts. Your brother believes he’s fighting for human life when he really should be fighting Celestia. This has led to decade long living monsters, to be killed, then respawn at a new, random location. This phenomenon has been tested closely by The Doctor. He has concluded that the world population of monsters is fixed due to Khaenri’ah’s curse. Your brother thinks working with the Abyss Order will lead him to a vaccine of sorts. The vaccine was slated to let all the hilichurls pass on, eliminating a huge section of the beasts roaming Teyvat. But he’s incorrect with that assumption. Dottore even struck a d–” Pierro said, but Dottore stood from his seat, a grin ear to ear. 

“Yes, the deal, of course. I’ll take it from here dear 1st Harbinger. The deal was simple: if he were to obtain a vaccine for the curse, we would help dispense it across Teyvat. And if he did not and became one with the Abyssal Order, you are to strike him down, Lumine. Now do you see why joining our ranks is crucial? If your brother remains unchecked, he will revive Khaenri’ah. And with that revival, people across the world will suffer the consequences. We do not want to increase the monster activity in Teyvat–but we would take a chance at decreasing it with the vaccine. These stipulations were made long ago Lumine–and it makes me happy that you now are willing to listen to your fellow Harbingers,” Dottore explained, bowing as he took his seat. The room gets quiet again. I looked over at Lumine, tears in her eyes. Her lips tremble at the words. Her eyes start to stream tears down her face. Tartaglia continues to hold her, rocking her ever so slightly.

“I. I don’t understand it at all! Why would my brother make such a deal in the first place? Dottore, why?” Lumine said, slamming her fists against the dining table. Dottore whistled, pointing back toward Pierro.

“It is not an easy task to comprehend what Aether is thinking. Perhaps he saw the horrors of what Celestia did first hand? Or, maybe, was thrown into the past while you were pushed into our current present. Dottore has attempted many times to track Aether down for an update, only to be lost in Abyssal portals. It seems Aether is avoiding the confrontation at all costs. Perhaps having you there will increase the odds of him discussing the deal with us,” Pierro said, gesturing back to Dottore.

“That scene you saw earlier–on Kaeya’s vision–that was one of many meetings Aether and I had during that time. He’s so focused on the vaccine that he forgets he’s falling deeper into the Abyss’s hands. His anger became worse over the years, moving from breaking furniture to trying to injure me. We need you as badly as you need us at this point,” Dottore explained.

“But our first goal will be to collect the final Gnosis. Once we fix the leyline issue, we can then work on finding your brother and saving him, “ Pierro said, “As for the preparations to go to Liyue, you shall head out in a day’s time. We can’t afford to let these financial mistakes go unchecked. Now, it is time to raise our glasses,” Pierro said, raising a glass of red wine. Others do so as well, Tartaglia handing Lumine a glass too.

“Let us have a toast. We always toast when we finalize a plan,” Pierro said, gesturing his glass toward Dottore’s, “And we cheer to our god’s will.” I kept my glass close, toasting with Sir.

“For the Tsaritsa will!” the group chants, glasses clinking. I took a sip, noting I no longer felt pain from your cuts.  All signs of fatigue had vanished. I figured the wine had something to do with hyper healing. This was an astonishing wine type. I took another glance at Lumine, her eyes looking hollow. It was a lot of information that Harbingers told her at one time. It all must feel heavy on Lumine’s shoulders: Aether, the experiment, the looming danger of Khaenri’ah taking over Teyvat. 

“Uhm, Paimon thinks we should head to bed soon, right Lumine? We learned a lot of mind blowing things today and it’ll help to get some sleep to process stuff, right?” Paimon said, Pierro clearing his throat. Paimon notices the 1st Harbinger stern disposition, hiding and saying a quiet ‘sorry’ and ‘won’t happen again’. The other Harbingers and myself now sip on the red wine, the chatter re-filling the dining room. 

“It will be only one more day of healing, Mai. Then we will journey through Teyvat to make it to Liyue. Do you recall the first meal we shared together?” Sir asked. You recall the spicy dish–the one that stained the dress from before. You nod, a blush showing on your face. Sir laughs at his, shaking his head with a grin.

“Ah, so you do remember. Do be sure your manners are on the nine’s, because we will be eating that same dish at Wanmin Restaurant. They will be able to adjust it to your needs, should you need it less spicy,” Sir said, gently stroking my sides with his hands. I relaxed at the feeling, eyes looking about as everyone has their own separate conversations. One more day with Sir outside of spy work would bode nicely. Pierro takes a few different things from the table spread, eating cleanly and efficiently. It would only take him five minutes to finish his plate, standing once again.

“May the next time we meet be our final meeting for plans,” Pierro said, “And the first meeting of our next phase.” Pierro’s footsteps begin to echo, the large hallway from before re-opening. It wasn’t long until the echoing was gone in its entirety. The conversations at the table shifted greatly, now going back to more mellow topics.

“So, Paimon was there, and when I went to fry the chicken, she goes—’Eek, the oil is scary!’ like it  was some sort of shark. Paimon, dear dragon of our Tsaritsa, you never lost your sense of intrigue,” Dottore said, bringing up other anecdotes of Paimon cooking with Dottore. Lumine is drawn into this conversation, her hollow face soon lighting up with laughter. It was probably what Tartaglia wanted–his girlfriend and his side piece existing in the same room. But why did it come off as replacing me? And how could I get over my own jealousy?

“Thank you everyone. For everything. I never thought joining the Fatui would solve my problems, but it did,” Lumine said, waving to everyone at the table. I waved back, though I could feel the jealousy begin to broil in my stomach. Was she really just a better version of me? One that could master several elemental resonances with a flick of a wrist? Sir was right–I was being replaced. I squeezed hard at Sir’s hand.

“Is it time to retire to our room, Mai?” Sir asked. You quickly nod, taking yourself off of Sir’s lap. You wait at attention for when Sir’s portal would open up. 

“Where should I sleep tonight..?” Lumine asked aloud. Tartaglia laughed at the question.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’ll share my room,” Tartaglia said, “Promise I won’t do anything pervy. At least not when we are still figuring out our relationship.” I rolled my eyes at such nonsense. I turned to Sir, gesturing for him to make a portal out of here. Sir takes his time to get up, wiping his face and stacking the dishes in front of him for ease of collection and cleaning. He hums, standing still for several minutes. If he didn’t get out of here soon, things would start to get sticky. 

“What? There has to be another room,” Lumine said, a blush on her face, “I rather not impose on you, Childe.” That was my snapping point. But you garner better results when using honey instead of vinegar. 

“Well, Marionette did give me an emergency room sigil. Would you like to use that to have your own room, Lumine?” I said, walking over to Tartaglia and herself. 

“Wait–doesn’t Lumine need to earn her delusion tonight? If we are to leave in a day’s time, we should make sure she has one,” Dottore said, eyes looking at Sir.  Sir nods to that, snapping on white gloves from his pocket.

“Lumine, you will need to come with Dottore and myself. Earning your delusion is the next rite of passage as a Harbinger. We understand that you do not have a Vision, but a delusion would be the closest thing to having one. Since you are one of the strongest warriors I’ve ever seen, earning the delusion should be easy for you,” Sir said, a smile on his face. I knew that smile. It was shown when Sir had anger that he could not externally show. Lumine looks between Tartaglia, Dottore, and Sir.

“Huh, you received a sigil from Marionette? She must see you as a valuable asset. Feel free to rest whenever  you feel comfortable. Just sayin’ though, I am a top tier cuddler,” Tartaglia said, that idiotic grin plastered across his face. I was starting to understand how Tartaglia was really just a sleazy guy. That whole thing on the ice lake was just a story to Tartaglia. A story he used for leverage of my virginity and something to hold over my head. Tartaglia even knew my birth name. There was no reversing how you felt about Tartaglia. But  with Lumine, you could feel yourself grow more and more competitive. 

After a short discussion between all, Lumine was to go to Dottore’s chambers to be sedated for the delusion granting process. Tartaglia and I would be left alone, hopefully to straighten out the relationship issues that were rising. 

“Come on over, Mai. We’ll just have to cuddle without Lumine,” Tartaglia said. The narwhal hallway showed up soon after. The strobing blue lights hurt my eyes. I followed Tartaglia into said hallway. I felt like a second choice right now. Tartaglia admitted it back then–about having many children with her. But since she was effectively sterile, what was his new plan now? We walked in the hallway in silence, up until we finally made it to his room. 

“So, I saw your body language at dinner today. Are you jealous of Lumine?” Tartaglia asked. It made it easier to explain when my boyfriend knew what ticked me off.

“You fed her food. You offered your room. And all without knowing what she really wants. It pisses me off,” I said, tapping my foot down on the floor’s surface, “And I just feel like I’m being replaced.” Tartaglia came closer to you, wrapping me up with his arms. I hugged him back, struggling to keep my emotions separate from the situation. I could hear him hush my crying, patting my back.

“Ah, so you are the jealous type. I would have never expected these sorts of results,” Tartaglia said, starting to strip off his clothes, “Wanna wrestle about it?” I couldn’t tell if Tartaglia was being serious about this or not. As the seconds ticked by, Tartaglia was taking off more clothing. Deciding it may have been serious, I began taking off my clothes too.

“Don’t expect me to go easy on you, either,” Tartaglia said, a competitive glint in his eyes. Once we were both naked, I tackled Tartaglia onto the bed, hands wrestling with Tartaglia’s. His strength showed as he easily began to contort the hands he had in his own.

“D-Don’t be mad if you lose, in fact, if I win you can’t be upset!” Tartaglia said, his muscles starting to overpower your own. But the thought of losing an emotion? That riled me up enough to push back against Tartaglia’s strength. I thought of how  intensely I would hate the situation if Tartaglia won.

“And if I win…you have a serious conversation with Lumine and I!” I responded,  inadvertently pulling his hands closer. Black tendrils came from my body–wait–but my delusion wasn’t on my person! Said black tendrils assisted in getting Tartaglia’s center of balance off, causing him to crash onto the other side of the bed. I continued to press forward, hands in Tartaglia’s. Tartaglia laid right under me, struggling to push me away with the black tendrils tying him to me. It wasn’t long until I hear a huff from Tartaglia.

“Fine, you win. Your delusion is too powerful for me not to bring out Foul Legacy, but I was already warned by Pantalone in my previous rooms. I never had a spar in here but my training once got so intense, the entire room was blown to bits. So, instead of blowing this place sky high, we’ll have a discussion during our trip about what we are. Sound good?” Tartaglia asked, the black tendrils wrapping around his waist tightly. I nodded, inhaling slowly for the black tendrils to return from where they came. The black tendrils gradually unwrap from Tartaglia’s stomach area, disappearing. 

“Good. Now, with that out of the way–” I said, immediately leaning into Tartaglia for a kiss. He returns it, his tongue slipping around my mouth and lips. His hands  pressed me down into the linens of his bed. I could feel his greedily lips kiss in between making out.

This goes on for several minutes, before Tartaglia pushes me away. His eyes glance down at me, until he sweeps me up in his arms. He then laid behind me, his arms securely placed around my upper body.

“Good, glad to see you’re still attracted to me at least. I promise I won’t forget about the conversation now. I can’t have my girlfriend mad at me for too long, it’s too much to handle,” Tartaglia spoke softly into my ear. I let my back relax as he began to stroke my stomach, up to my breasts, and then my shoulders. I exhaled, feeling like things have been mostly settled. 

Tartaglia hums as his hands roam to massage different parts of your body. He stops at your sex, fingers slowly starting to stimulate your cunt. You struggle to hide your moans, legs shivering as he began to finger fuck you. 

“Urmm…” you barely manage to get out. Tartaglia’s fingers move fast, the wetness of your sex causing a small mess down below.

“The winner needs a reward after all,” Tartaglia whispered into your ear, slipping in one finger, then two. Your legs open wider at the sensation, wanting to feel the deep penetrations of the finger. The way he was shoving them in me made it so much more enjoyable. The pain was something I loved, as he continues to fuck my wet sex. It isn’t until he rolled me to face him that I noticed something. Tartaglia was…crying?

“Pantalone told me what you two do. I’m trying to be rough, but…I can’t stop thinking about if this is hurting you or not. Promise me you won’t be mad if we can’t do rough stuff?” Tartaglia said. I couldn’t tell myself what to do. Sir was appearing like the ideal partner more each day. And that would allow Tartaglia to have the relationship he wanted for years. 

“It’s alright. I think it’s–” I began to say, but Tartaglia’s lips were then pressed against mine. I kissed him back still, adjusting my hands such that they were holding Tartaglia’s head in place. Lips and tongues swap spit. His arms wrapped around my waist. Bites here and there–this was the kind of affection I wanted. And I needed to let Tartaglia know that. 

“H-Hey. I like this,” I spoke between swaps of spit, running a hand down Tartaglia’s muscly back. This continues for a few more minutes, before Tartaglia moves to sit on the bed. To follow his movements, I sat besides him on the bed.

“That felt good–like my girlfriend really needed some us time,” Tartaglia mentioned. I nodded, leaning against his figure. He wraps an arm around me, his grip nice and firm.

“Yeah, I. I just wanted confirmation that you still cared for me, I guess,” I said. Tartaglia nods thoughtfully to that, gently patting your shoulder.

“Well, it’s never changed. Will never ever change. I love you, Mai,” Tartaglia said. Was this true love or just an impasse love? I wasn’t sure if this would last, or if he was just saying it for me to feel good. But I did feel good, better after this. I guess all I can do is what how Tartaglia acts during the Liyue mission.

“I love you too, Ajax,” you said, smiling. Tartaglia smiles at this, bringing you into a small side hug before he stands.

“Let’s get cleaned up. I’m sure your precious ‘Sir’ has whipped up some sort of pain fetish thing for you. I’m sorry I can’t do it myself–I can’t picture myself hurting you, even if you like it,” Tartaglia said, “But we can spar! I’m always down for a nice fight.” You nod to Tartaglia, biting your lip at what Sir had planned for tonight.

It doesn’t take you long to clean up, as Tartaglia joined you in the shower. You walk out of the bathroom, realizing you do not have a change of clothes. Your eyes look over to Tartaglia, as he shrugs.

“Hey, he told me he wanted you naked. Don’t shoot the messenger,” Tartaglia said. Your eyes widen a bit, a smile on your face.

“Thank you, Ajax. I’ll be on my way then,” I said, putting my hand out to try and form a hallway. It takes several times (and some direction by Tartaglia) to get the pearl-white portal to appear. It was styled with tons of pearls, and with the white backdrop, it was less of an eyesore to use. I gave Tartaglia one last wave for farewell, then headed to the hallway. They felt endless as you continued to walk, watching Tartaglia’s face disappear into the whiteness of the hallway. Soon enough, Sir’s room would appear. The box from earlier is on the bed, revealing that Lumine was trying to get her delusion tonight. 

I walked into the room, naked. Sir grins at you, waving you over. I started to walk over, but he tutted at me.

“Crawl on your knees,” he demands. Following instructions, you walk on your hands and knees to Sir. Once I was close enough, Sir brandished a white collar at me. He hums as he tells me to turn around. I do so without question, feeling the white collar be put around your neck.

“This is a 2.0 of the internal monologue system. It should help you connect with all of the Harbingers this way. The way it works is that it eliminates that perverted feature of needing to pull on your nipples. Now all you need to do is touch the collar with the Harbingers in mind that you want to send messages to. It took Dottore and I sometime to perfect it, so let’s see how it works,” Sir said. I started to stand, but Sir slapped me with strength that made me fall back onto my hands and knees. I grin at this, excited to see how much rougher Sir was willing to get. 

I reached up and touched the collar, thinking of Dottore and Sir.

“Testing Internal Monologue Communication system. This is a test,” I spoke in my mind. I glanced at Sir, who was smiling pleasantly at me. He pulls you by the collar, bringing your face to his. 

“Now who's a good pet? You are, you slut,” Sir said, raising his hand and slamming it against my face. I fell to the ground, excited for more. My eyes look up at Sir, his smile still present. He would then kneel, pulling at my collar to force me to look up at him.

“Very good. You are the only one who is able to use this collar to speak. You will need to use this as much as you can so Liyue and Natlan Harbingers can coordinate tasks. You understand how important your role is, right?” Sir said. I nodded, understanding clearly that I was getting more responsibility with the new role. But he still treated me like his pet. Something about him seeking more ownership in me, made me happy. 

“Now let’s try it again, but this time, reach out to Knave and Marionette,” Sir instructed. I nodded, reaching up to touch the collar.

“Pearls, reporting in. Can we receive an update on the Natlan situation? ” I asked. 

“ The status in Natlan is calm. We are waiting for their Archon to be put in a vulnerable position. A hostage situation would bode well–since this Archon cares deeply for her people. Columbina was thinking of taking the warrior Kachina as a hostage, as well as other high profile people in each tribe. This will make it impossible for Mauvika to deny our demands. Knave, reporting out,” Knave explained. I relayed the information to Sir, who nods and gives me headpats. He strokes my hair with gentleness.

“Ah, I see. Well Liyue will remain our first stop then. I agree with the current methods–a head on fight without The Captain is impossible. Keep tinkering with it, you may discover things we didn’t expect. And do let us know if you start to channel Archon's thoughts again–that part was a breakthrough in itself,” Sir explained, gesturing to the bed. I used my hands and knees to get into bed, Sir slapping everywhere on my body as I did so. Once I was fully on the bed, Sir tackled me, much like I did to Tartaglia earlier.

He holds me close, saying not another word. I relax in his arms, safe. It wouldn’t be long until the four of you were set out in Liyue to deal with the money issues surrounding the Fatui. For now, I decided to rest in Sir’s warm arms, walking around like a dog and tending to his every whim. I laid down, Sir coming into bed and cuddling me. I happily hummed, glad to be back in Sir’s room. He held me close, gently patting my back.

“Our covers are simple: We are from Inazuma and are a couple. We are going to look at investing in a home. Northland Bank’s response to this will tell me a lot about the current climate. Tartaglia and Lumine’s covers aren’t needed since both are notorious since Rex lapis faked his death. Lumine will pretend to ask about how to start up a bank account, different types of savings account e.t.c. This approach serves two purposes: to determine where missing funds are going and to test how well this branch of Northland Bank operates. If so needed, we may need to forcibly get them to change their ways. Understood Pearls?” Sir said, patting my head when he finished the speech. I nodded, nestling deep into Sir’s chiseled chest. The next mission already felt more stable–no Dottore, and plenty of backup. Now all I had to do was push my jealousy aside for the betterment of Fatui.

Chapter Text

Mai’s P.O.V

A carriage brought us to Liyue. In said carriage were three other people: Sir, Tartaglia, and Lumine. We sat mostly in silence, given the circumstances. The carriage driver had warned us that Liyue had some of the best security in Teyvat. Due to that, we had to keep very low profiles and obscure our faces.  Sir and I wore masks. These masks covered our face besides our eyes and lips. If questioned,the excuse for the mask would be to combat a skin disease that gets worse in the sunlight. Sir and I were to approach the bank first, determine service level, and where the money was going. 

Tartaglia and Lumine were tasked with trying to transfer some funds from Tartaglia’s bank account to a newer bank account. Tartaglia is to note if the balance has changed/shifted in the past few weeks. All of this was building up to our final goal: the Pyro gnosis. It still stumped me on why Fatui cared for Mora. I wanted to ask–but due to being in such a closely guarded area–we had to stay quiet and stick to our covers. 

As the carriage door opened, Tartaglia assisted Lumine out of the carriage. Sir assisted me out, placing his hand on my back. 

“It’s always good to travel with you two! Good luck on your trip!” Tartaglia said with a smile, waving us off. Lumine placed a hand along Tartaglia's back. I thought I was going to be jealous, but I was so focused. Was I finally getting attuned to the Fauti plots and such?

Sir nodded to Tartaglia, mentioning something about needing a mortgage. I stayed close to Sir, looking around to see the amazing sights of Liyue. Things looked so much different than in Snezhnaya. The weather felt warm with no hint of humidity. The families here also looked happy, enjoying themselves. 

“My dear, the mortgage. Even if we decide to make the move from Inazuma to here, we will need to account for moving expenses too,” Sir said, squeezing my shoulder. I moved closer to him, his arm loosely wrapping around my waist. I nodded to his words, not sure how to respond.

“And ahh–we’ll want a nice big yard. Would you prefer the city or the countryside, my dearest?” Sir asked, looking over at me with a curious glance. I hadn’t a clue what Sir would prefer–most of my life had been stuffed into a studio bedroom. But, I  had to envision the role. A young girl is marrying an upper crust guy. And being asked what I wanted…hmm, got it!

“Whatever you think is best my dear, I have no issues where we stay! We can live in a shoebox and I’ll still be happy with you darling,” I said, sticking close to him. The people of Liyue seemed not to care about our appearance, which was a good sign. We blended in well with the current atmosphere of Liyue.

Sir then brought me to a red-painted stairwell. We both ascended the stairs at the same time, his arm keeping me close to him. As we reached the final step, “Northland Bank” was only a few yards away from us. A Fatui lookout stood in front of the entrance. Once Sir and I got closer, Sir took off his mask for a few seconds, looking at the female Fatui with a grin. The Fatui member appeared much less laid back and full of fear. Sweat was dripping from her brow, as well as rearranging her outfit a few different times.

“A–ahem–hello there! I welcome you to the Northland Bank Liyue branch!” the female agent said, bowing several times over. Sir chuckled at it, waving the agent away as he put back on his mask. She wastes no time climbing down some nearby steps, her labored breathing a sign of suspicion. I could feel Sir’s hand along my waist briefly move up and touch my choker.

“ That girl knows something. But we can’t cause a scene here. We still need to investigate the inside as well. If things turn to fighting, please trust me to deal with the manner efficiently and delicately ,” Sir said within 2.0 IMS(Internal Monologue System). I smiled, gently patting his hand down to ward any suspicion. As we opened the doors to the bank, everything appeared to look normal. Bank tellers were behind clear plexiglass. There was an ascending starwell that appeared to go near various nick nacks and treasures alike. 

“Hello there, we are here from Inazuma. Name’s Mazaki and my wonderful wife's name is Noriko. We wish to pursue a mortgage with Northland Bank. Is there someone available that can assist us?” Sir asked, using a deeper voice than usual. Sir was really selling the cover. Was this what he did the first few days of knowing each other–dragging me to all his money collectors? I remained quiet, nervous about what would occur. The women behind the plexiglass gave each other knowing nods, waving us closer to the ledger. We walked in front of one plexiglass woman, who wore business savvy clothing and had black hair. The other one was dressed in a blue outfit with a white coat. The difference in outfits striked me as odd, but I had to keep focusing forward. 

“Ah, well, we are a bit understaffed at the moment. Is there any way we can route you to a different branch location?” said the business dressed woman, “We do sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.” Sir nodded, letting out a joyful chuckle. Sir was seriously a good actor. He even was fooling me with how genuine he was coming off as. 

“Well, I’d rather do my visit here. You see, I took a boat and a carriage just to get here. It’d be a shame to have to travel again to get this mortgage situated. Even with being short staffed, you should have some sort of customer service you can give us besides turning us away,” Sir said, gently rubbing my shoulders, “Noriko needs her rest after all.” I relaxed to his touch, smiling as I glanced at both of the girls behind plexiglass. The other woman(with the white coat) stepped out from the plexiglass and into our view more closely.

“It’d be a shame indeed. Come, let’s talk about this mortgage upstairs. Uma, take care of the front desk for me okay? Miss Ningguang is likely to visit soon,” the woman said, ascending the steps for her. Sir nods to this, clapping a little bit before taking my hand in his. 

“Please do not mind Noriko’s quietness, she’s not attuned to finances like me,” Sir stated, ascending the steps while holding my hand. I followed without question, keeping my mouth shut as Sir did all the talking.

“Ah, such a quiet girl she is indeed, By the way, names’ Yelan,” Yelan said. Sir lets out a chuckle at the name, pulling me even closer as we reach the top of the steps. 

“I see now. Let’s take a seat and talk more about this mortgage.” Sir said. Yelan went ahead of us, seeming to open a portal to several rooms with desks and chairs. What a weird way to hide off the offices. Once Yelan walked through, Sir and I carefully entered the portal from there, entering an office space. 

“Let’s cut the bullshit now–why are you here Pantalone? Want your coat back?” Yelan said, laughing as she took a seat. Sir continued to laugh with her, as if they were old pals. Was this all a setup Sir knew he’d walk into? 

“Well, as clear as I can see, this Northland Bank is dysfunctional. Tell me how it got to this state,” Sir said, the sternness in his voice growing. I kept close, holding onto him with both arms right now. Yelan glances over this, letting out another laugh.

“Well, we don’t really enjoy having a Fatui run bank here. It makes business here not as good, and hurts the economy. It doesn’t make sense to keep you as a middle man. So, we’re planning on buying out this branch in exchange for what money remains in the Fatui coffers,” Yelan said, yawning as she takes another close look at us. Her eyes were a chilly blue, her glances feeling more like stares. 

“And what makes you think we’ll fall for such a foolish deal? This bank is ours, and there is no way you can talk me out of it. We will not discuss business deals that lack our intrigue. Or is Liyue in that much peril that you must sell us out to get you out of your own troubles?” Sir said, adding, “Or is it more complex than that? Having such an ask for me is a signal that something is off.” Silence fills the office. There is no talking. It made me feel awkward. Was this what negotiations looked like for your Sir? No wonder he was always so pent up and enjoyed inflicting pain on me; because he couldn’t do it to other people who were unwilling.

“It’s different than that. Ever since the Fatui have been spotted in Natlan and Fontaine, our people are starting to think you aren’t a bad organization. This has led to the proliferation of business with Fatui diplomats. We cannot let our economy depend on your organization's whim. And the only way to fix this issue is to rid the Fatui involvement with our banking system,” Yelan said, as small wires covered in hydro energy showed across the room. Each thread looked packed full of elemental energy. I hadn’t a clue if this was the point–to get captured–or if this was meandering off the plan. 

“Ah, so we made you look bad so you want to make us look bad now? Huh–that actually sounds evil as I say this aloud. Our Harbingers have no ill will toward any nation. We simply exist. Or do you believe our involvement in such world events had solely selfish intentions?” Sir said, the said strings turning ice cold. I recalled this coldness–from the brief fight Tartaglia and Sir engaged in. I held on tighter to Sir, unsure of where the conversation was going.

“We know the Archons had to pay the price for those good deeds. Just because you are heroes in those nations does not mean you are heroes in every nation. You stole the Ameno gnosis. You bargained for the Geo and Dendro Gnoses. I have no doubt the other ones were made in exchange for saving the nation,” Yelan spoke, the wires surrounding us struggling to maintain hydro power instead of Cyro. 

“Now you are just talking in circles. We’re the bad guys for collecting items. You’re the good guys because…you want these Gnoses back? What exactly would you do with them?  Who's to say any one person in charge of these things wouldn’t abuse their power? Have you ever seen us use the powers of the gnosis for–well excluding Dottore–for our own purposes? We have a vision that does not include the abuse of gnosis or the system. W–” Sir said, but the hydro strings were becoming ever closer to our skins. I felt one graze my own skin, leaving a bloody Hydro wound. It felt actually painful–as if Yelan wanted to kill us. I kept my guard up, my hand going into my black velvet bag to channel my delusion. Black tendrils rose from my body, cutting away the strings that surrounded Sir and I. This takes Yelan by surprise, hiding underneath the desk as the tendrils destroy her web.

“Ah, so you have a new trainee I see. That won’t change the fact that I disagree with your vision, Pantalone,” Yelan said. I kept my black tendrils such that they surrounded the desk Yelan was under. 

“Face it Yelan–you’re following orders. Ningguang doesn’t like how her Jade Chamber shines with the Fatui in the background. If we sully her image by merely existing, it sounds more like an  ego hurting than anything,” Sir said, that white smile flashing as Cyro began to creep from the top of the desk downward. 

“F-Fine. Then what else do you want us to do? Sit and watch you take over Liyue Harbor? Rex Lapis and the adepti left the safety of Liyue to us. And to hand it over to you Harbingers without second thought unnerves me,” Yelan said, hopping from underneath the desk to the ceiling. Sir nodded at me, gently letting me go. A familiar ice barrier forms around me. This one is thin, allowing me to still see everything on the outside. There were also holes in said ice barrier, allowing for my tendrils to poke out and join in on the fight. 

“It is a simple task, Yelan. We will keep our presence here, in Liyue, with the Northland Bank. And you get to leave and tell Miss Ningguang we aren’t leaving. If she has further problems with that, I’m certain you’ll be up to the task, right?” Sir said, intensifying the cold in the room. The ice barrier that was surrounding me grew larger. I could still make out what was happening on the barrier, which meant I could assist Sir in this incoming fight. Sir was moving so quickly I could barely detect his movements. The same could be said about Yelan as well. I still controlled my tendrils that were outside of the ice barrier, doing my best to try and aid Sir. After several minutes of battle, a loud thud echoed out. Yelan’s body fell with a squishy sound. 

The ice barrier shattered,  Yelan was crawling in a pool of her own blood. A bloody side wound was bleeding out along Yelans left side. The blood was pooling below the desk. I huffed at her appearance, upset she thought we were to heed to her wishes. 

“I…was prepared for you, Pantalone. But not for two. Dammit…” Yelan said, her words becoming breathy and short.

“Oh two? My dear Noriko is simply able to manipulate shadows. And let’s say none of you are ready to see how big of a shadow Liyue’s light has,” Sir said, walking up to the injured Yelan. He squats down, looking at her with seriousness in his eyes.

“Here are some orders for you. Fix the books. Fix this branch. And your life will be considered yours again,” Sir whispered, grabbing Yelan’s face with one hand. The fingers squeeze at her face, a thin layer of ice consuming her face. She does not resist, eyes closing as her entire face is engulfed in an icy mask.

“The mask is a precaution and a symbol for Miss Ningguang to yield to. If one of her closest espionage spies cannot handle two Harbingers–perhaps someone better suited for the job will work? Oh, and before I forget. That mask has a timer of about ten minutes. If she fails to come before then, your body will be frozen in place. Don’t worry though, Liyue loves their contracts and being timely, yes?” Sir said, retaining his squatting position as the ice mask prevents Yelan from saying a word more. Yelan nods weakly to Sir, curling up underneath the desk. Sir takes a strong hold of me, grinning ear to ear.

“Thank you so much, associate. I’m certain your manager will praise you for your customer service today!” Sir said, as if nothing happened. We both stepped out of the strange portal. We were back next to the knick knacks and such. My bloody wound was soon covered up by some ice from Sir. Sir managed not to get a drop of blood on his attire.

“Great customer service indeed, Mazaki. Can we go eat at Wanmin after this to enjoy a nice meal?” I asked, starting to get into character. Sir grinned at me, giving me the softest of kisses I had received from him. I blushed at this, hiding my face into his shoulder. Below was the woman from before, standing behind the plexiglass like before.

“Hey, miss. If Ningguang  stops by, tell her Yelan needs help with the mortgage deal upstairs. We ran across some hiccups that need more a managerial touch,” Sir said, his arms wrapping securely around me, “After another set of eyes reviews it, I’m certain we’ll get approved for that loan Noriko. But first, let’s have some of that spicy Liyue dish you love. The Jueyun Chili Chicken is simply delicious.” Sir held onto me tightly, as if I were something to be treasured. It was a nice feeling, despite it just being an act. As we exited the Northland Bank location, a woman in fancy gold and white attire rushed in. Sir took out a couple of new masks, swapping them from our old ones. The new mask had more of the mouth exposed, but only the eyes could be seen from the nose upward. The entire event takes less than a minute, Sir guiding me down more steps in the opposite direction. 

“Now, for this meal to go without a hitch, find the perfect place..ah, I know just where!” Sir said, grinning as security was called  toward the Northland Bank area.  We left just in time to avoid suspicion, our masks different from the ones we came in. Sir must have done these collections thousands of times–no wonder he said this mission was the easiest of the two.

We soon made our way to a couple of wooden tables beside a sign that read  “Wanmin Restaurant”. We took our seats immediately as a white haired woman approached our table. I sat besides Sir, who kept his arm around my waist. We really were selling the perfect couple disposition. 

“Say, what’s your name? I don’t recognize you from my other visits here,” Sir said, eying the white haired woman. She smiles at both of us, shrugging.

“I am fairly new here. My name is Shenhe. What will your order be?” Shenhe said, handing us the menus immediately. Wow, we were supposed to decide that quick? Sir scans the menu quickly before turning to face the woman once more. 

“Two Jueyun Chili chickens please. And a less spicy one for my spouse Noriko. She has a weak spice tolerance,” Sir said, grinning over at me. I smiled too, sitting up straight. Sir pulled at my waist again, until my head was touching his shoulder. He gently taps my white choker.

“ Great job so far Pearls. We are beginning to make strides in fixing our banking issue. With Lumine on our side, there’s no one left to oppose our visions, ” Sir said in the 2.0 IMS. It felt good to be praised by him, leaning against his body with ease. 

Shenhe immediately takes the menus back, heading to the kitchen to put in the order. The quietness of Liyue made things less intense. Even in moments of disarray, the city was competent enough to hide such ugliness. Sir continues to stroke my back, leaving soft kiss after kiss along my forehead. The hushed whispers around us keyed us into how Liyue’s defenses were taking the situation.

“...Miss Yelan got ambushed by Fatui. She almost died without the quick thinking of Ningguang. I hope we can find and defeat them soon,” guards whispered between each other.

“But isn't it strange? For them to nearly kill Miss Yelan and leave not a trace? What if there’s a traitor among us!” another guard whispered in the group. Sir smirked at all the talk among the guardsmen of the town. Shortly after some eavesdropping came our dishes.

“Please enjoy,” Shenhe said. Both dishes looked similar besides the amount of chili in each dish. Mine had less chilis with Sir’s appearing to have what the regular amount was for Liyue cuisine. We began to eat in silence, taking in the atmosphere and listening in for any further updates of how Liyue will respond to said threat.

“Seriously. To take on Yelan and win. She had to be betrayed by someone,” guards continued to whisper, as if gossiping were to help the current situation. Once both of our plates had been eaten, Sir pulled me in for another kiss on the lips. His hands wrap around my figure, gently tapping my choker once more. 

“ This is what we want to foster–chaos. If Ningguang becomes incompetent in the eyes of the people, she will have to compromise or lose her leadership spot with Qixing. It’ll be a hard decision, but with Yelan out of commission for a while, she’ll be out of  tricks up her sleeve. But we must wait, watch, and weather the ripple effects of our actions ,” Sir said in the 2.0 IMS communication style, his hands rubbing along my sides. I laughed at this, smiling over at him. My arms flung around him, squeezing him tight. We were truly mirroring an ideal couple type. The thought of Tartaglia briefly comes to my mind–and I dismiss it. Just because we were married at a young age didn't mean the marriage was supposed to last–besides–this mission with Sir was all just an act. I inhaled sharply, doing my best to remain in my role and not lose myself to such unpleasant thoughts. 

I leaned against my pretend husband, happily humming. Shenhe takes our empty plates, leaving the bill on the table. Sir picks up the bill, eying it before laying down a large sum of Mora. Shenhe is taken by surprise for such a small bill to be paid out in such a large sum of Mora.

“Sir, the dish is one of the cheapest on the menu. Did you intend to order more?” Shenhe asked. Sir shook his head no, a smile showing on his face.

“Ah, no, just keep all of it. While this dish may not be the most expensive, it's exquisite in flavor and texture. Compliments to the chef,” Sir said, flourishing a bow. Shenhe nods to this, smiling as she collects all of the Mora to bring to the till. Sir raises up, grabbing hold of my back as I also stand beside him. My eyes looked around–was someone coming after us? Sir grasps my face, bringing me into a loving kiss. The kiss continued, my head empty but my lips full of Sir. I continued the kiss, grabbing his head as he pushed further onto my face.

“Traveler, I certainly hope that you will not turn away this commission. Someone has seriously injured Yelan during an espionage mission gone wrong. We’ll need your help in detecting them,” the white and gold lady from before said. My eyes just barely made out her luxurious outfit. Lumine stood there, nodding slowly. Tartaglia appeared to be watching from a distance along one of the red archways. What was becoming of Liyue, for them to be more concerned about the injury and not the reason behind it? Your eyes continue to watch the incoming scene, Sir busy still kissing your lips.

“Why was she injured? Who are the suspects?” Lumine asked, a confused look on her face. Was Lumine really ready for what it took to be Fatui? 

“Well all I know so far is she tried to negotiate a deal with a member of the Fatui, then things soured quickly. We need to hold them accountable for such a gruesome act,” (presumably) Ningguang said. Lumine appears like a deer in headlights. What was she going to do, rat us out? Or would she tow the line between the Harbinger and Adventurer? 

“Ah, well. I need to get some rest before I do a large-scale investigation like this! Right Paimon?” Lumine said, turning to Paimon. Paimon nods, flying over to Niggaung.

“You could offer us all the Mora in the world but we won’t start investigating until tomorrow. Are these terms okay?” Paimon said. Ningguang nods, smiling.

“Very well then, I’ll allot some time for rest now. Yelan’s condition is stabilizing, so perhaps tomorrow you two could ask her for more clues about her assailants.” Ningguang said, turning to leave, “I trust in you, Traveler.” Did they ever even use Lumine’s true name? Once Ningguang was out of sight, I pulled away from Sir. His eyes appeared relaxed, gazing along my body. I gave a knowing nod to him. 

“Now, where are we lodging for tonight my darling? I can’t seem to recall where our room will be,” I asked, gently massaging his arm with my hands. Sir nods to this, smiling.

“I got us a beautiful room at Wangshu Inn. We’ll be sharing a carriage again with those two travelers. Once we get there, sparks will fly,” Sir said, kissing my face gently, “If that’s okay with you.” I nodded, bringing him into a tight hug. So far this second Fatui plan I was part of was going smoothly. Without Dottore meddling, it seemed that the Harbingers were highly competent at their job duties. Or perhaps Dottore had his own way of doing things? 

“Ah, there is our carriage. Noriko, let’s get out of here,” Sir instructed. I walked hand in hand with him, the carriage driver opening the door for us. The driver was a utility Fatui member–someone from the region that could help us blend in more. Sir gently guided me to my seat as he sat down beside me. Soon, Lumine and Tartaglia would join us. Once we all were comfortable in the carriage, it began to move.

The silence from before settles in. Only the sound of the rickety carriage can be heard. It takes us a couple of hours, but we arrive at what appears to be a large building built along an even larger tree. I was amazed at the sight when Sir escorted me out of the carriage.

“Mazaki, it’s beautiful,” I said, turning to Sir. He nods, gently tugging me forward to climb stairs. Lumine and Tartaglia followed suit. Once we were at the reception desk, a brown haired woman welcomed us. 

“Ah, there should be a reservation for two groups. Do you have it in your system?” Sir asked, the deep voice from before fading.

“Welcome to our Inn you four! So we have two traditional suites with a connected door in the middle. Traditional Liyue styles so you will find your futons in the closets. There’s no keys to this hotel, so I hope that works for your interest.” the woman explained. We all nodded in agreement that it was safe, beginning to walk toward our rooms. However, in front of us were dark black embers. A short, green haired kid appeared before us. By the sound of wincing Paimon made, it must be one of the companions Lumine met along our travels.

“What are you doing here with them? Do they have you as hostage or are they trying to bring trouble here?” the kid said, brandishing a polearm. Lumine shakes her head no profusely, trying to get the situation in control.

“Xiao, it’s a complicated story. Please don’t hurt any of us!” Paimon cried. Lumine nodded to those words, offering an explanation in exchange for secrecy. Xiao thinks before nodding, following us to our rooms. They were simple rooms, furnished with tatami matts with bedding in the closets. It takes quite a while to get Xiao up to speed, a concerned look on his face. 

“So the situation is as dire as I predicted. The seven eight gate ritual would put you at risk again. And with something as strong as a gnosis being brought to the nodes may stir up attention in ways you may not like.. This is a dangerous thing you’re attempting, Lumine. But I understand your intentions now and that they are for the betterment of Teyvat,” Xiao said, “I just never expected Fatui to have the answers you were looking for.” Paimon nods before explaining other ongoings, starting from the beginning of my origins.

“And then, we met Mai! She’s a Fatui experiment and a member I think…eek, was that offensive Mai?” Paimon said, hiding behind Lumine. I shook my head no, feeling a hand tug at me.

“As I can assure you, adeptus, we do this to save the land, not ruin it. That is the Abyssal Order’s goal. Now my partner and I will take our leave in the other room,” Sir said, bowing with me as we walked toward the door. Once opened, it revealed a similar layout to the other room. Before I could get the futons out, Sir hushed me, pushing me to the side. I blinked, unsure of what was going on.

“Dottore…come out you pest,” Sir mumbled. Without skipping a beat Dottore pokes his head out of the bedding, a grin stretching along his face. He cackles as he reveals himself, taking out the futon and placing them along the floor.

“Ah, you always can sense my elemental energy. It’s hard to prank someone with that capability,” Dottore said, placing his hand behind his head once the futons were properly arranged on the ground. I huffed at this. The plan was going well without Dottore. Now that Dottore is here, the plan is in jeopardy. 

“It’s not as much of a prank than an annoyance. Why are you here,” Sir asked, removing his jacket and outer clothing. I mirrored this, slipping off my clothes to put on  more comfortable attire. An oversized shirt hung over my shoulders with comfortable undergarments below. I almost laid down on the bedding, but was stopped by Sir.

“Oh, you know. Keeping my fellow Fatui on their toes. Now, those masks you used at the bank. Give them to me. Otherwise, the elemental energy will prove a blueprint to your demise,” Dottore said, extending a hand out at Sir. A few moments pass as Sir digs through his belongings, placing the original masks in Doctor's hand. Dottore nods as he reviews the mask, heading toward the room’s exit.

“Not even a thank you?” Dottore said, feigning a sad face. Sir and I sighed.

“Thanks, Dottore, for taking care of that. It seems you thought ahead of us,” Sir said, each word sounding as if it were pulled like a tooth from his mouth. Dottore laughs, appearing giddy as he prepares to leave.

“Now who to frame this on…” Dottore muttered as he exited the room. Once the door was shut, Sir  closed his eyes. The room got colder. If I squinted, I could see tiny ice crystals forming along the room. Then, with a fluid motion, hugged me. I hugged him back, stroking his back. He stayed quiet, not saying another word. It worried me. Sir was quiet but never this silent. I turned my face to look at him, trying to smile for him. But there was just a blank expression. What did he want–how could I help?

“Sir? It’s bedtime,” I said, gesturing to the futons, “Is there something on your mind?” He clears his throat, gently tugging me into bed with him. Once we were both lying down, he hugged me tight. I returned the hug, looking up at his face. Sir still had that blank expression on his face.

“Back there. It was the first time an adeptus agreed with our plan. It’s a pivotal time to say the least. With more comrades come greater successes. But, to sum things up,” Sir whispered, inching closer to my face until our lips just barely touched, “You did wonderful today. And not just the spy amount of wonderful–the you amount of wonderful. You didn’t spit up your chicken and held the kiss long enough for Ningguang to not detect our elemental energy. For that, I feel something close to love for you.” Then, his lips crashed into mine once more. We continued to make out for what felt like an hour, his hands squeezing my arms, belly, and every body part I had. 

“O-O,” I  tried to say words, but those lips continued to kiss along my face and shoulders. It felt soft, natural–nice. This was the opposite of the type of attention I got from him at homebase. Was Sir…falling for me? It wasn’t long until I heard the connecting door open, revealing an undressed Tartaglia. 

“Oh, just checking on my–what–get off of her man,” Tartaglia said, sounding upset. Why would he get jealous out of the three in the relationship? I huffed, gently pulling Sir off of me. Sir chuckles at the situation, shrugging.

“Well, hands are off now. What was your plan–sleep with Lumine and Mai?” Sir asked, still chuckling. Tartaglia grumbled some, his foot tapping on the mat below his feet. 

“You’re lucky we’re out on a mission. Next time we’re in the training grounds, we’ll need to plan a sparring match. Be prepared to spar with what you’re doing with my girl,” Tartaglia said, grumbling as he eyes me down. 

“I just want everyone to be happy,” I said–it was the truth after all. The two men eventually do come to a calm consensus of sleeping in pairs tonight. There was no telling if and when Ningguang would connect the dots and lose trust in Lumine. 

My arms wrapped around Sir, happy, content. He hums softly, wrapping his arms around me in turn. I could feel my body slowly fall into slumber. I could still hear that humming, lulling me into a deeper slumber.

Chapter Text

Mai’s P.O.V

My eyes opened to a fully dressed Sir. I smiled, standing up from my futon to notice the connecting door was open. I peeked out  the connecting door, seeing Tartaglia and Lumine dressed as well.

“Why didn’t you wake me sooner? I feel like I’m lagging behind now,” I muttered, standing and sifting through my clothes for something to wear. 

“I dunno, you just looked so peaceful. Lumine wanted to wake you up, but us two wanted to watch you sleep longer,” Tartaglia said with a smile, “Think of it as some extra time before we get deployed out to Liyue Harbor again.” I nodded but was uncertain–how else would we cause disturbances in Liyue? We already finished what we did before–was there more to this mission? 

I slipped into a red dress, fitting my curves well. It would match Sir’s current outfit, a pair of black slacks with a red shirt. 

“Besides, we were planning on the next steps. We briefed Lumine regarding the Yelan confrontation from yesterday,” Sir said, “Such small pieces of information change the context of things. You do understand what this means, right Lumine?” Sir asked. My eyes avert to Lumine, a look of sadness on her face. She looks up toward us all, struggling to keep a smile on her face.

“I know. And I know what to do now. It’s just…painful. Knowing what was happening and how Liyue is being talked about as property. I won’t let this continue–we need to work together for a solution,” Lumine said, preparing to leave the Inn.

“By the way, we should order some Almond Tofu! Xiao loves the stuff,” Paimon said. A half-smirk took over Lumine’s face.

“Paimon also likes Almond Tofu,” Lumine said, placing her hands on her hips as she gazed over at Paimon.

“So what, don’t we need a filling breakfast before another day out there?” Paimon said. Sir and Tartaglia chuckle at this, shaking their heads.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to eat as a group anytime soon. The second phase of this plan requires us to remain separate. If they see us as colluding on the plan together, it all falls apart. So going back into the city, we’ll take two different carriages. Pearls and I will take the 2nd carriage, leaving the initial one to Tartaglia and Lumine. That carriage should arrive in about ten minutes. Please go downstairs immediately so we can stay on time,” Sir instructed, seeming to know this all by sheer memory. Paimon first complains about not getting to eat until Lumine promises she will ask to use their cooking space to make a quick toast for Paimon. Paimon then calms herself, leaving their room. Now, it was just Sir and I.

“Seems that you slept well. I will now brief you on our mission for today. Ninggaung is likely to lead Lumine to Yelan. We pay close attention to the wording and verbiage they use. If they persist in calling us the evil, we will show who really is the quote on quote ‘evil’ in the world. Once Yelan is out on her own, we’ll offer her one last chance of redeeming her life in our eyes. If she is as brainwashed as I think she is by the Qixing, we will need to eliminate her. We must stand our ground when such unpleasantries begin to show in our image.You  are tasked with the elimination of Yelan. You haven’t killed anyone yet intentionally. Killing someone in this way will change your perception on life. Please don’t see this as an ugly thing–see it as getting rid of filth in the world,” Sir explained. The words weighed heavily on me this time. I was supposed to…kill someone? I began to hope for my sake Yelan would have a change of heart. I nodded to the words still, preparing my makeup for our soon to be outing. It was a simple lipstick with some eyeshadow, red to go along with my outfit. Sir handed me a similar mask from yesterday, this time only the mouths were able to be seen. The rest of the mask clung tightly to my face. So much for the eye shadow and lipstick.  The eye holes in the mask were tight too–revealing only the whites and color of the eyeball. 

“Today we cannot afford mistakes. These masks are specially made to wick off sweat and other human bodily liquids. You must be prepared to kill and confirm said kill…” Sir continued to explain, but my mind was elsewhere. From being a sickly person to someone in charge of eliminating an enemy–it scared me. Where does a person go when they die–do their spirits live on elsewhere?

“In summary, Mai, we will be working to kill off all that oppose us. If they so stubbornly wish to be right–we must kill that right and show the correct wrongness to the masses,” Sir said, pulling me close to him. I held him close, his lips kissing mine with such tenderness. If only Sir knew how to be tender and painful at the same time–that would be ideal. But, for the mission at hand, soft would be perfectly ok. 

It wasn’t long before we packed up our gear and caught another carriage 20 minutes after our conversation. This time, our conversation was lively.

“Mazaki, you’re right, I’m more adjusted to city life than the country. Tell me, Mazaki, if we get this house. Will we…have children?” I said, trying to be dramatic for the regular Liyue driver we had. Sir coughs, likely taken aback by my ask.

“Oh, Noriko. You should have said so earlier you wanted children. Tell you what–we’ll get a nice, big city home. Then we’ll fill that home up with as many kids as we can, ok?” Sir said, smiling as we rode on the final route to Liyue.

“It all depends on that mortgage though, right?” I asked, Sir, scooting over to wrap an arm around my waist. He leans over to allow his ear to connect with my white choker.

“ The mortgage is an euphemism to allude to Yelan. Be careful about how and what you say surrounding said mortgage, ” Sir said through the 2.0 IMS(internal monologue system). I nodded at the words, humming as I quickly changed the topic of conversation.

“But that chicken we had yesterday–delicious. You know how to pick good food places, Mazaki,” I added, hoping to steer the conversation away from my blunder. It appeared to work well, chatting about food places before our carriage was stopped.

“Please state your business here. After an incident regarding a high profile citizen, we must now inquire about foreigners' interest in Liyue Harbor,” a guard said, spear in hand.  I left this to Sir, who was grinning ear to ear. 

“Oh,  my wife and I plan to enjoy the culture. We’re foodies so we are here to try the different cuisine available around here. Tell me–where would you recommend for a filling breakfast?” Sir asked, “Names Mazaki. My wife here is called Noriko.” The guards nod, seeming to give knowing nods to one another.

“Okay, you can pass,” the guard said, “Any venue would make for a lovely meal.” The carriage once again moved, ending in the mist of Liyue Harbor. We exited the carriage, paying the required travel fee. The streets were lined with spearmen. Ningguang had to be fairly powerful to pull so much security in a single day. Sir and myself walked hand in hand, taking a gander at all the different street food they had to offer. Sir decided on a chicken skewer from a small wheel ridden restaurant. They tasted smoky as they just came off the grill.

“Mmm! It was so tasty. Mazaki, can we get more of these?” I asked, truly enjoying the flavor. Sir tutts at me.

“No, we need to leave our stomachs open for more things. Don’t we want to keep trying new things until something more special strikes our noses and eyes?” Sir said. It was likely some sort of coded way to say we need to scope the area for where Lumine will be. 

“Ah, alright then,” I said, finishing up my skewer quickly. We must have tried dozens of different restaurants, from the skewer to their sweets–my stomach was filling up quickly. After eating some Inazuma inspired mochi, Sir strokes my neck, touching that same white choker.

“ I can sense Lumine and Tartaglia close here. We need to stand at the ready for when we can infiltrate, ” SIr said in IMS.  How was I not supposed to throw up at the sight–or stomach the fact of me eating to my heart's content before ending a life? 

Lumine’s P.O.V.

I never thought of myself betraying the people I once saved from calamity. Ningguang gave my security clearance across Liyue, even waiving the need for me to be checked by guards. Tartaglia is eying me from a safe distance–while Mai and Sir were eating at a variety of different restaurants. It was up to me to determine if Yelan would live or die. It was a serious decision, so I had to take this more seriously than things in the past. To decide the fate of one's life–is this truly what would help me find my brother?

Ningguang took a long route to a room hidden away. It was mixed in with the other red painted areas of Liyue. But it was hidden–a certain pin being pressed in by Ningguang before the room opened itself up to us. Yelan laid in a hospital style bed. Her disposition looked good despite how grumesone of an injury she had taken. The room itself was just big enough to fit in the medical equipment and her bedding, leaving the rest of the room empty for visitors I assumed.

“Oh, The Traveler’s here. I am thankful that you were able to come this quickly,” Yelan said before coughing up some blood, covering her mouth. Small droplets of blood drop from her fingers. Nigganug moves forward, gently patting Yelan on the back.

“Quit forcing yourself. You are badly injured and we cannot ignore that fact,” Ningguang said, “Just focus on giving your recount on the events of yesterday. I’m still not sure what happened myself.” 

There is a quiet that fills the room as Yelan struggles to sit up, leaning on the wall behind her.

“They came here trying to impose on our stance of transforming Northland Bank to something entirely Liyue based. I told them what you asked me to, Ningguang, but they were unhappy. They told us to keep things as they are. The people they sent before–Ow,” Yelan said, screaming out near the end of her thought. Ninggaung gently presses against Yelan’s body, trying to comfort her. 

“Wow, they really did a number on you Yelan,” Paimon said, sweat dripping from her brow. I had to get Paimon calmer–or the whole plan would be for nothing.

“No kidding. There were two members, both Harbingers I believe. They left me with no choice but violence. They tried to reason why they stole the gnosis here and other places beforehand. All I know is whatever they plan on doing, it’s big enough to incapacitate me,” Yelan said, her words sounding strained due to the pain.

“The people they sent before must have been underlings, since I could handle them on my own. And intel suggested that The Banker worked alone. But that intel must have either been bad or old–since he had a partner with him. I couldn’t tell if it were a guy or a girl however. Knowing how Fatui works, they are probably trying to gather intelligence now of my current location. We are doing our best–ughmm,” Yelan said, before another wad of bloodied spit left her mouth. Ningguang tries to comfort Yelan, propping a pillow between Yelan’s back and the wall. A soft thank you leaves Yelan’s mouth, returning her focus to us.

“All I know is, they’re bad news. They come into our bank, thinking we’re still meek and letting them exist on the surface. We all know how crucial good partnerships and contracts are. And with the Fatui becoming more active in other nations, we had to set precedent on how we view them now. The contract with them residing in Liyue ends now, whether they like it or not. Dear Ningguang, do not go after them without backup. They are the most powerful Harbingers yet to grace Liyue’s stone roads.”  Yelan said, her voice  sounds a bit more loud without the strain from before. Ninggaung nods thoughtfully.

“So, we need more than The Traveler’s strength to beat them. Hmm, perhaps Beidou would be up for a challenge? No no–contacting her would slow the investigation down. I wonder if Director Hu would rise to the challenge. I know you have a connection with Director Hu, correct Traveler?” Ningguang said. I nodded.

“Well that will be our first step–contacting Director Hu for assistance in this manner. I will remain in this space to defend Yelan as needed,” Ningguang said. I nodded again, gesturing to Paimon. Paimon flies around nervously, evidently uncomfortable with something.

“Hm, Paimon, you appear not to be feeling well? Has The Traveler been stiffing you on your food rations?” Yelan said, letting out a laugh.  There was pain after the laugh, but before, it sounded joyful.

“Welll, we just wanna know, uh, mhm! We want to confirm that the Fatui attacked first,” Paimon said, nervous. I patted my fairy friend, landing directly on my shoulder. I could feel just how much Paimon was shivering. Paimon was not made for this line of work.

“Hm? Why such a specific question as that Paimon?” Yelan asked, a look of confusion on her face, “It doesn’t matter who strikes first when both parties are in combat.” Bingo–there it was. The truth was staring in our face all along–and I couldn’t let this go unsettled. 

“Oh, uhm. Paimon was just curious is all. Why would they want to start a fight in a bank they own? And why–” Paimon kept talking, but I had to close that mouth of hers with some Fisherman Toast. She proceeded to chomp down.

“Ah, my apologies. Paimon hadn’t eaten today and I forgot to give her the meal,” I said, bowing toward the two. The duo laugh at the ongoing events, as if to avoid the true heart of the matter.

“For argument's sake, defending our country from terrorists is our main goal. Nothing more, nothing less,” Yelan said, “And we won’t let them continue to build rapport. We just need the means to ease them out.” This wasn’t going to end well if they weren’t more honest with the situation. And they wasted Paimon’s attempt at a lifeline.

“I understand. Surely Fatui has hurt others here in the past, but this time, it must have been especially bad for two Harbingers to make a visit here. I thought there were Fatui diplomats you could discuss these issues with?” I asked, trying to mirror how cordial The Knave was during her diplomatic discussions in Fontaine. Ningguang was caught off guard at this, making another laughing stint. Something here reeked of ego. It was proving more correct in every minute of the conversation. For their own lives sake, Paimon and I were trying our best to show no ill will to Fatui.

“Oh, people like those are all for show! Their underlings hide where their true cowardly leaders are. I’m certain Yelan tried to negotiate with them, but as usual, they dissolved and resulted in another battle to the death. If they really wanted to kill her, they would have done so before I got to Northland Bank. That reminds me, I need to inform Keqing of her new project. I believe she’s capable of figuring out bank logistics within the next few weeks. Lumine, I encourage you to go now to Director Hu. My hope is between the two of you, you can handle the Harbingers,” Ningguang said, waving us off. Paimon and I nodded, nervous. They really were stuck in their ways–and nothing could  stop the bloodshed that was to come.

Mai’s P.O.V.

Somehow through dumb luck and diligence, we were able to observe the ongoing events with Yelan. Sir was chatting with the other Liyue residents, trying to determine the amount of children we should have. I, however, was left to nurse a drink as I listened in to what Yelan was retelling the group. I reached up, touching my white collar.

“ Lumine and Paimon are exiting the venue, please assist as needed, ” I spoke in the IMS. Sir continued conversing like nothing happened, no sign of Tartaglia either. I bit my lip–how was I supposed to walk up and kill someone in broad daylight? I remained as calm as I could be on the outside. I took a large sip from my drink, clearing my throat.

“You know, Mazaki, I could really use some alone time with you right now,” I said. Sir laughed among the men surrounding us.

“Wow, number one’s going to happen quickly,” a man said, which caused more laughter to be heard all around. I huffed–now was not the time to be mingling with the locals. 

“Now Noriko, we need the house first!” Sir said, which the others laughed along. I touched my collar.

“ How am I supposed to eliminate the target? There's a guard at every corner? ” I asked. Still silence hung up in the communication system. Was there something wrong? Or was I not seeing an opening others were seeing?

“ Pearls, you must use your delusions to contort the shadows in the room. Next, make your tendrils sharp as a tack. Then, it’s up to you how Yelan dies. Multiple stab wounds, a hit to the head–maybe even a hanging with the shadow squeezing the air from her lungs. Your power is versatile, use it girl ,” Dottore spoke in the IMS. I shivered at such a thought. How was I supposed to manipulate shadows so far? I closed my eyes, hoping to focus on the room itself. From the brief glance I got of the room, I visualized it in my head. It was a simple room with a bed, heart monitor, and a few other medical items. Each shadow felt small, but soon could be imaged as big. Somehow, through the shadows, I could even hear the conversation.

“Do you really think the two can handle the job? They nearly killed me,” Yelan whispered to Ninggaung. 

“If I did not foresee with my own eyes The Traveler’s might, then no. But I know what she is capable of and will bet on her any day,” Ninggaung said in response. I allowed the conversation to naturally flow, still gathering the shadows I could manipulate to a sharp tip.

“And even with this amount of security, they have a new member. She’s just as deadly as the rest. She has shadow control capabilities” Yelan said, sharing just one of my powers. The enemy learning of my skill would not bode well. 

“Shadow manipulation?...I have yet to hear of a Vision or any type of combat like that. We’ll need to do research before we approach the new members,” Ninggaung said, nodding thoughtfully.

“It’s also dangerous with them traveling in pairs…one could be watching from afar, while the other was at a distance pulling the strings. They’re getting more powerful by the day,” Yelan said. My shadows were ready to pierce, deciding to give the duo one last chance to speak the truth of what occurred in the meeting room.

“They were organized enough to also have covers as they entered and exited the bank. It’ll be difficult to trace their movements without an ID on them. Once I’ve healed more I’ll try to follow their trail,” Yelan added, patting a white towelette along her face. None of this was honesty; it was a power struggle more than anything. I shut my eyes tighter, preparing to pierce Yelan with a collection of sharp shadows.

“We have to achieve this goal, it will help with our money issues. Fatui has a lot of funds in the coffers. If we could just get them to agree to a deal, we could do this without violence,” Ningguang  said, sighing after. I was getting sick of the two avoiding the issue. I prepared my sharp shadows from underneath the medical bed, carefully positioning it. Once I had it positioned to shoot straight through Yelan, I gave them one final chance of redemption.

“You know Yelan…I appreciate your loyalty even in times of desperate measures. We will continue to fight them until an agreement is made,” Ninggaung said too confidently. Yelan nods to those words, as if she wasn’t just another pawn. I nodded to myself, eyes closed, as I began to pierce the bed with the shadows. They made quick work of the bed as the shadow began to shoot through Yelan’s body. It would break open Yelan’s intestines. 

“Hnnn, they’re back…her shadows are here.” Yelan groaned, desperately trying to claw out of my tendrils. But she was the one to deserve it. She was the filth Sir wanted me to rid from this life. I continued to slowly pierce Yelan, reveling in her struggle, her futile attempt at life. I smiled as I did this, listening to Sir tell stories of our wedding and first meeting.

“Where the hell are you!? Show yourself!” Ninggaung screamed, “Guards!” The entities of common folk were drawn away by the call for guards. The secret room opens up just slightly to reveal an impaled Yelan, the shadow in her stomach growing by the second.

“I…I can’t do anything anymore. I’m sorry…Ningguang,” Yelan spoke, her last words coming through a bloodsoaked mouth. I continued to stab through her, making this death slow, painful–and poignant. All the lies that spilled from her lips had to be repaid in blood. My shadow could feel when Yelan’s heartbeat stopped, confirming the death that way. Now, Yelan’s dead corpse was a message to those who dared sully the  Fatui name.

“ Ahh, my girlfriend is so brutal! ” said Tartaglia in IMS, bragging about my skills. The conversation dies down with Sir and the group of men, his hands taking mine.

“I believe things are getting too dangerous here to try for a home loan. Come, let us plan a return to Inazuma. This place isn’t as peaceful as we thought,” Sir said, “Right Noriko?” I nodded, slowly, struggling to retain the shadows form and present as a completely different person. I inhaled sharply, letting go of my vision as a loud ‘thud’ was heard across the second floor of red painted stairs. 

“Guards, we need to place Liyue Harbor on lockdown. I want everyone in this space to be investigated, interrogated–whatever gets them to talk! The Qixing will not bend to the Fatui’s will!” Ningguang announced, loudly. The crowd becomes immersed in talks of what happened and how the assailant was able to kill someone without revealing their identity. Sir took my hand, leading me down several red painted steps. The group of men follow before us, to avoid all the guards rushing in. One guard stops us, demanding our papers.

“They don’t have papers yet, they wanted to live here with us. But now, with what just happened, I bet that choice has changed. Sumeru’s better, there’s humidity, but nothing like this ever happens there,” a random man spoke, putting a hand on Sir and I’s shoulders.

“Yeah, they’re married from Inazuma. But coming here was a mistake, I’ll tell ya! If Rex Lapis were here, he’d already know the killer!” another man said. The entire group of men behind us began to shout and yell explicit things at the guard. The guard finally backs down, letting myself, Sir, and the rest of the residents exit the upper part of Liyue Harbor. 

Once  we re-entered street level, Sir spun me around before kissing me along the lips. I kissed him too, figuring this was yet another ploy to avoid the elemental energy to be traced. We held the kiss for a long while, residents surrounding us skittering about, unsure who the next victim would be.

Once Sir pulled away from the kiss, he frowned.

“I’m sorry our vacation turned sour, Noriko. We’ll leave as soon as the lockdown ends,” Sir said, nuzzling my nose against his.

“Mazaki, should we stay in Inazuma or move to Sumeru? Apparently it’s much better there,” I said, remaining calm as the streets were in chaos. Sir hums before shrugging, wrapping an arm around me.

“Now dear, we shouldn’t let one incident overshadow the benefits of this place. Whoever is doing this will eventually have to pay for their crimes,” Sir stated, bringing us to a bench to sit on. We both sat down, Sir tapping my white choker.

“ You truly are a beautiful human, Mai. I could never see you force someone through a painful death like that. But I do appreciate the work. How do you feel? ” Sir asked in the IMS. I thought for a moment. About what I did to Yelan and how she would never return to this world. To all the lies she was spreading about Fatui secret plots. But how I felt…I couldn’t attach an emotion to it. Was I sad, angry–empty? It was something I didn’t know the answer to

Chapter Text

Lumine’s P.O.V.

We were at the funeral parlor when things were getting worse outside. Hu Tao offered to listen to the current situation. It took a while and some diagrams drawn by Paimon–but eventually things were starting to connect.

“Wow Lumine. I can’t believe what’s going on. You, Fatui, all of it sounds crazy,” Hu Tao said, smiling, “But I wouldn’t expect less from you. Now the Seven-and-Eight Gate will be interesting to visualize across Teyvat. Having such strong objects around the nodes will definitely draw up the ley lines power. If done correctly–by theory– the leyline disorders would fix themselves with using each region's gnosis as objects for the nodes to leech onto. The only negative is, well, someone may die in the process. Unless you would take care of the death gate, Lumine. Is that your current train of thought?” I stayed quiet, thinking pensively. Last time I did survive–but Hu Tao also assisted in finding the way out. Asking her to die again for us would be too cruel, and I’d risk my life if it meant Teyvat was free from Abyssal Orders’ hands. 

“We still need to recruit people for said nodes but…it’ll be super hard. They’ll be holding onto an entire gnosis, while also defeating whatever monsters are attracted to them,” Paimon said, a dizzy look on her face, “All the while need to keep this a secret to almost everyone. It’s a pretty hard thing to explain, it makes sense why Fatui doesn't bother to explain to other people.” Hu Tao thinks, a perplexed look across her face.

“If lady Ningguang is truly against this idea, that brings into question her morality. If things start to result in more blood being shed, I’m hoping she will hear you out Lumine. If she doesn’t…well, things get ugly then right?” Hu Tao said, “But ugly doesn’t mean bad things will happen. Ugly just means there may be a power struggle on the horizon.” I nodded to those words, so did Paimon. Zhongli had been out doing whatever tea drinking he may be doing. That–or investigating the gruesome death of Yelan. His vision for Mai and myself comes to mind. Did Zhongli predict this ahead of our coming here?

“Sooo…are you in to try the seven-eight gate with us to fix the leyline issues?” Paimon asked, flying closer to Hu Tao. Hu Tao nods, bowing toward Paimon and I.

“Well, Miss Harbinger! You have successfully earned my attention to this matter. Since it involves the boundaries of life and death, it’d be best to be guided by a pro! When will Fatui plan on enacting this grand plan of yours?” Hu Tao asked.

“There’s no set date yet. We’ll need the final gnosis before we can move forward. Plus, with the bank situation here, we had to rectify it,” I said, then further explaining the events up until now.

“I wouldn’t have taken Ninggaung as a nationalist, but here we are. And you’re sure that Fatui did not lie about what occurred in Northland Bank?” Hu Tao asked. I looked back at her, opening my mouth before shutting it again. A voice recording proceeds to play from a machine given to me by Pantalone. Pantalone snuck in a recording device, which took a clear transcript of the event.

“Wow…this is terrible on Liyue’s end. If the people were to hear this recording–there would be chaos on the streets. It may bring more business for me given the increased likelihood of heart attacks in high risk individuals. But–enough about that–I’ll bring the focus back to Liyue. It may  result in a slaughter if Ninggaung refuses to back off. I can’t say much without spilling the beans either. Hmm…a tricky situation. Lumine, do you mind if we keep this a secret a little while longer? I want to confront Ninggaung about this–indirectly of course. She just had her top spy killed in front of her. There’s gotta be some room for conversation.” Hu Tao said, patting my head. I smiled at the motion, nodding toward the funeral director. 

“Wow, this spy work makes me hungry,” Paimon said, rubbing her belly. Hu Tao and I laugh at her, moving toward the kitchenette to make some food. I decided to keep it simple, making fisherman toast for the three of us. Once it was done, Paimon happily dug into her portion. Hu Tao, on the other hand, just stared at the food.

“Wow, now that you’re in leagues with them now, I don’t know how to think anymore. This entire time we saw the Harbingers for evil, when they wanted to heal the ley lines. Though, there is one thing to note: No more leyline disorders mean most of the beasts that roam today will go extinct during their last stint of immortality. If we go back that far, The Adventurers Guild may go out of business. That’s a major revenue stream all across Teyvat. Perhaps there may be some aware of this issue but decide to turn a blind eye. Oh the situations you end up in, Lumine!” Hu Tao spoke before taking her first bite of the bread. I nodded to Paimon and Hu Tao, taking bites of my own food as well.

“And the craziest thing is, I’m no longer scared of Il Dottore! He made me the best feast of snacks ever! Even if he tried to create a false God,” Paimon said, sweating after she realizes the lengths Dottore goes to for his experiments. Hu Tao laughs at this, shaking her head as she takes more bites of her bread.

“It feels odd, being on their side. I first decided to work with one, The Knave, in Fontaine. Then I met The Captain in Natlan—he gave his life to save that entire nation. I just don’t understand how Ningguang is against Fatui lately. A betterment of their image could be spun in a healthy  way instead of  erasing the existence of them. It’s been a pretty known fact that the Fatui have instilled themselves here for a long time. If anything, it would help Liyue’s view overall,” Hu Tao spoke, taking nibbles at her food all the while. Paimon was too busy stuffing her face to comment.

“That’s where I get confused too. Why go through all the trouble and have Yelan risk her life like that? People should be able to have reasonable conversations about things like this,” I said, finishing up my piece of toast. Hu Tao nods to my words, the same with Paimon. 

“Well, that settles things then, yeah? I will try and get some words out of Ninggaung when she has a moment. That may not be until later today due to Yelan dying…perhaps she knew she had to die. Or that Ninggaung sent her on a suicide mission. Either way, it brings to question her morals which I'll poke and prod at! You’re welcome to stay here and so can the other Harbingers for the time being. Would you be able to share their descriptions so I can tell the guards where to go?” Hu Tao asked.

.            .               .

In less than an hour Pantalone and Mai appeared. They were ushered here by guards. Hu Tao does her general introduction, Pantalone looked suspicious as Hu Tao immediately went into her interpretation of the Seven-Eight gate.  I remained sitting off to the side, watching Hu Tao and the others interact with one another.

“So it is true, the power struggles in Liyue have started. I knew that the Qixing would not last. Once you get one power hungry person, the entire governing body starts to show issues. Even during this year’s Lantern Rite, you had to perform the seven and eight gates then too, right Director Hu?” Pantalone said.

“That was necessary for the boundary of death to return to its proper place, people were being negatively impacted by it. Similarly, if the ley lines continue to worsen, more monsters and fiends will overcrowd Teyvat. Tell me, Pantalone, what is the Fatui’s insight on that?” Hu Tao said, leaning in to listen to Pantalone. He instinctively nods to Hu Tao, a pensive look on his face.

“Well, for the boundary of death(or in this case, the ley lines boundary) to be put right, we will need the power of the seven different Gnoses. It is through research and extensive planning to arrive at this conclusion. There is no promise that it will work, but there is research that suggests it could be beneficial. Does that make sense, Director Hu?” Pantalone explained, backing up a little bit from the personal space invader Hu Tao.

“Well that makes sense! Hey, don’t be so formal with me! Hu Tao is perfectly fine. You may be in the realm of contracts, but we’re super friendly too. Say, we are missing someone. Where is Tartaglia stationed at?” Hu Tao asked. Lumine, Pantalone, and myself shook our heads. One moment  Tartaglia was watching the events–the next completely gone. 

“Should we search for him?” I asked Pantalone.

“No, he’ll know where to come. He’s quite capable despite his lack of manners,” Pantalone said, taking a seat along the kitchenette table. 

“Let’s just hope he doesn't run around naked in Liyue,” Paimon said, holding her head in one hand. I blushed at that–hoping the same thing. 

Just like clockwork, Tartaglia was escorted by the spear holding guards. He has a few different bags in his hands, nodding toward the guards to close the door behind him. Each bag was delicately designed in a few different colors: green, red, black, and yellow.

“I bought souvenirs at a fraction of the cost! Taking advantage of the failing underpinning of society is great!” Tartaglia said, grinning ear to ear. Hu Tao pouts at such words.

“Well, we shouldn’t be taking advantage of the people who live here. It’s bad enough as is that the politics are getting more heated,” Hu Tao said. Tartaglia brushes off those words, giving me a big hug. I smiled, hugging him back tightly.

“They’re so cute!” Hu Tao said, smiling, “How long has this been a thing? I always thought he had the hots for you , Mai!” The jealousy faded due to the importance of the mission, but was still there. But this proved to be the perfect time to specifically explain Tartaglia and I’s situation.

“Mai and Tartaglia were married young,” I replied. The mood in the room shifted, even Pantalone being taken aback by such words. Hu Tao appears the most interested, making her way to look at your face. She looks all over Mai–hair, legs, arms, anywhere that she hadn’t seen before. 

“Interesting…it appears that your souls are bound to one another,” Hu Tao said, starting to stare Tartaglia up and down as well. Lumine is curious as well as Pantalone, remaining quiet as Hu Tao begins to ask a series of questions. Once most of the easier questions were answered, Hu Tao nodded.

“It appears those adults in your life practiced dark magic with their kids. Gotta say, that’s pretty tough being married off as kids. And perhaps this explains Tartaglia’s current behavior. That, or, at least his personality,” Hu Tao said, “Either way, this bond is so strong! If my theory is correct, you two gain power from being together!” I was taken aback by this information. Was the whole inviting Mai to the Fatui a calculated move? 

“Ah, so much I have learned today. Perhaps I was wrong about you simply being our cook,” Pantalone said, taking a seat, “Tartaglia, for things like this, you must let your colleagues know.” Tartaglia then goes off on a tangent with Pantalone, complaining that not everyone else had to tell people their life stories.

“It’s less about knowing and more about giving us the full details of a new member,” Pantalone said, huffing in frustration. Mai still hadn’t said a word up until now. Killing someone so brutally must have impacted her deeply. I stood up from my  seat, making my way toward the silent Mai. She took a seat beside one of the black blinds near the front of the funeral parlor. I observed her before talking–slouched body, no words…Mai may have regrets for killing Yelan there. I took a seat beside her, Paimon off to discipline Tartaglia for his rude behavior so far in Liyue.

“Hey Mai…do you want to talk about it?” I whispered, extending my hand to her. Mai shook her head, still not saying much in words. 

“Okay, well. I’m here you know? In case that answer changes,” I told her, still sitting beside her. Mai slowly turns to me, her eyes watering. She hadn’t said a word yet–the tears telling the story clearly. I reached out to give her a tight hug.I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I was put in her shoes. 

“...I can still smell the scent of blood behind me. My shadow was…used to kill her. And it feels like she’ll haunt me, forever” Mai whispered, hugging her legs as she brought them up to her chest. I exhaled, trying to find words to cheer Mai up. But I could come up with nothing.

“Heyy, it’s not Mai’s fault she got stuck with you two!” Paimon yelps, flying over and giving a sassy look to the boys, “I bet she didn’t even want to join you.” Pantalone laughs at the words, much more than I thought. It was getting to the length that made the laugh more creepy than an expression of distaste. 

“Mai, tell them yourself,” Pantalone and Tartaglia said at the same time. My eyes moved back to Mai, the tears drying up fast as she turned to regard her colleagues. 

“I joined of my free will. I hadn’t known Tartaglia was part of it, but Sir…he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Mail explained, “So, Paimon, shut it.” The room then becomes filled with silence. Even Hu Tao is out of words to say. 

“I killed for them. I killed for my…my duty. It was my duty,” Mai said, her difficulty finding words clear. Before I could give her another hug, Pantalone hurriedly comes and gives Mai a big hug.  Tartaglia comes second, giving the girl a big hug. It must have been painful to have a first kill such as that. As the three hugged, Hu Tao cleared her throat.

“I’ll pretend I didn't hear a murder  confession there. Anyway, it’s time for us to determine sleeping arrangements! I do have rooms here, but most of them are reserved for, well, my job. I have three open rooms where folks can rest. How we organize them is up to all of us. I don’t mind sleeping with the Traveler, which brings it down to two rooms,” Hu Tao advised. I nodded at those words, Paimon agreeing quickly.

“Having the three of us share a room is okay,” Pantalone said, gesturing to Tartaglia and Mai. Both of them nodded.

“Well that leaves one room…perhaps someone else will need to take refuge here? We’ll see! Anyway, the bed matts are in the closet. And don’t forget to take off your shoes–we have a very strict tradition of not wearing shoes in those spaces. Other than that, let's hope for more loose regulations sometime within the week. Ningguang is being careful, but she can’t keep this going monetarily. She will need to end, or at least pause, this lockdown she has us under. Let me know if you need anything,” Hu Tao spoke. We all nodded, proceeding to our rooms. I was to sleep with Hu Tao. And the rest decided to sequester the other room. I could only imagine what was running through Mai’s mind. She was a murderer now and she could not go back to who she was before killing. And now she had to come to grips with it–or let herself be caught in Ningguang’s web.

Mai’s P.O.V

I had no words for the latter part of the day. Sir and Tartaglia tried to celebrate my first kill–I was burying the memory of it. I let the bloodlust I felt cut through another human. I could not forget the face Yelan made when her life ended. The blood that coated her outfit–the guts spilling out on either side of the shadow. Worst of all–the eyes–they gradually became duller. All of it was my doing and I could not efface it. There was no running from such a gruesome murderer I was.

“Pearls, please come here. It’s not like you can un-kill Yelan,” Tartaglia stated, reaching out to me. I decided to cuddle him, along with Sir. It was a tough day for me. And an even tougher night it’ll be. I took off my mask, as did Sir. We placed them on the edge of the table, mostly certain Dottore would find some means to take those away. On the floor were three bed matts pushed together, effectively making enough sleeping room for three. Tartaglia hugged me from the back as Sir pulled me into a front sided hug. I cried a lot. I couldn’t find the words to share with my colleagues. I couldn’t feel proud about making another person's dream end. Who was I to kill something? I just became a Harbinger a few months ago. 

“Shh, shh. It’ll be okay Mai,” Tartaglia whispered into my ear, trying to massage my body. My body remained limp, deadweight as Tartaglia gripped different parts of my body. Despite the painful memory, and the blood on my hands, I wanted something. Something that I knew Sir and Tartaglia could do well.

“I need my mind to be distracted. I–I want it. You know,” I whispered, feeling cold hands grip at my throat. I let out no sound as the hands got tighter.

“Is this what I’m supposed to do Pantalone?” asked Tartaglia. I let out a slow wheeze, excited that my boyfriend was starting to accommodate my likes. His hands continued to squeeze at my neck, the wheezing continuing. 

“Yes, but, be less gentle,” Sir instructed, his eyes looking into mine. I continued to wheeze, focused on the pain. I could feel Sir move some as Tartaglia proceeded to straddle me. My eyes were getting blurry–perfect. Nothing else mattered but the pain. Tartaglia slowly eased up on my neck, my breathing labored as the oxygen was rushing to my brain. I smiled up at my boyfriend.

“Good job, but I would have been far more rough than you,” Sir mocked, slapping my face. The stinging felt good too–so did the choking. I hope they won't pull their punches based on the events of today. 

Tartaglia leaned closer to me, kissing my neck as he gripped one of my hands. I relaxed into his touch, kissing his forehead as space allowed. Sir remained quiet. From what my eyes saw, he was sitting in the corner of the room, simply watching the events. I returned my full focus onto Tartaglia, who brought his lips to mine. Our mouths connected, tongues swapping spit. My free hand went to push Tartaglia down further, which he obliged. 

This goes on for a few minutes, Tartaglia gradually removing each article of my clothing. Soon I was bare,looking up at the fully clothed Tartaglia. I glanced over again–Sir hadn’t moved an inch. Tartaglia began to strip off my clothes, whistling.

“You’re about to see a pro at work, Pantalone,” Tartaglia said. Sir said nothing in response, did not move. Did that mean…he wanted to watch?!? I blushed at the thought, staring up  toward the stripping Tartaglia. 

“I have two girlfriends, do not be phased my dear constituent. I am a master of this,” Tartaglia continued on bragging, my eyes solely focused on his body. I nodded at this, smirking to hold in a laugh. This was coming from a guy that was too afraid of fucking girls when they were conscious. I strained my eyes, starting to see the silver-goldish smoke connecting our bodies.

Sir continued to say nothing, watching as Tartaglia prepared to fuck me. His hands were so gentle along my body, leaving smaller kisses along my neck. I relaxed under him, happy to see my boyfriend give me more attention than Lumine. His lips dragged along my neck, teeth firmly pushing against my neck.

“Mrmm!” I said, trying to keep my voice down. The pain and pleasure were starting to overstimulate me. Then, from the corner of my eye–Sir was staring at me closely.

“What a whore you’re proving to be,” Sir whispered to me, abruptly slapping my face again. This time,a line of blood from my nose leaked. Tartaglia put himself into position as he began to roughly penetrate me. I let out soft groans, trying to keep it down. Sir kissed along where the blood was leaking, licking it up with his tongue. This was something I could only  dream off–a day with these two just doing as they like with my body.

As Tartaglia sped up, my body began to move much more. I could feel myself building up now–ready to release all of the  liquid I held inside of me. I started to become less shy with my groans, Tartaglia taking me by the lips to shush my loudness. Sir did much of the same too, kissing my lips when Tartaglia could not. 

In between the kisses, and thrusting, and the pain–I had no more thoughts. Thoughts of Yelan flew out of my mind. The threat of Ningguang left me unphased. All I could focus on now was the love Sir and Tartaglia were leaving across my skin.

It wasn’t long until I felt Tartaglia’s thrust get quicker, shorter–and harder. I covered my mouth at this point for my groans, until I felt Tartaglia pull my arm away. 

“Mmmm!” I groaned out, hoping the others wouldn’t hear. I could feel Tartaglia come to a slow stop, filling me up. 

“Ahh..I hope I didn’t wake anyone up,” I said. Sir and Pantalone traded knowing glances, grinning. Sir got up, and Tartaglia sat where Sir once was. Were they..talking turns with me!?

I could feel Sir straddle me, leaving me soft kisses just as Tartaglia was. He continued to kiss me, down from my neck to below my belly button. Then, loud slurps could be heard. I covered my mouth again with groaning. I wiggled about, Sir having to use both of his hands on either of my thighs to stay steady. His lips were spread wide open, tongue sticking deep into me. I could feel him slurp up what was left of Tartaglia’s cum.

“Mrmmp,” was all I could hear Sir say. Tartaglia would then move from the wall, eying Sir’s work.

“Er, you’re still a newbie at this. But it’s ok, you got a great teacher,” Tartaglia said, too loud for comfort. 

“Shh,” I managed to say, followed by a louder groan. Tartaglia laughed, clicking his tongue as he peaked out into the hallway. After what felt like an hour, Sir pulled away, wiping his face clean and slapping my thigh. I smiled, sitting up. Now that was a nice distraction to the harrowing reality I still had to face. 

“Hey, what’s going on in there?” Hu Tao asked, Tartaglia laughing.

“Oh, just some team building,” Tartaglia replied, “Something that just brings us closer together.” I shrugged at that, deciding to let Tartaglia lead the way in deception. 

“Ah, but what kind of team building makes those noises?” Hu Tao said. Tartaglia laughs, shrugging. 

“Well. I guess I’ll leave it be, just, don’t wake Lumine or I up,” Hu Tao said, moving back into the other room. Sir, Tartaglia, and I would then cuddle together, Sir’s humming beginning to lull me to sleep. I didn’t want to face the consequences that came with killing Yelan. But my hands were the ones stained with Yelan’s blood. I would forever remember her face, her cockiness–that smug confidence. Was she really filth? Was I taking out the garbage or just becoming something else entirely? I held onto Sir close, and Tartaglia did the same to me. In the dark of the night, I could feel myself fall asleep.

Chapter Text

“We are here to investigate a manner of security. It has come to Miss Ninggaung’s attention that Fatui fugitives are residing in this area! We must undergo inspection of this facility to ensure safety within Liyue Harbor,” a guard yelled. That sound woke me up fully. I sat up immediately, scanning the current room for threats. 

I saw neither Sir or Tartaglia with me. I gulped–nervous. Why would they leave me here? I huffed, trying to determine what my cover would be? I  could  go with the Noriko background. Wait, yeah–I am Noriko, not Mai. 

“Well, I already did a full-on investigation. This place is clear of any fugitives. Living ones, at least,” Hu Tao said, her voice sounding purposely louder than needed.

“Well, if there’s nothing here, let’s just confirm that information, Director Hu,” the guard said, the sound of a struggle being heard.

“No, ugh–listen to me!” Hu Tao said. I could hear pushing and shoving. I looked around–no mask in sight. It meant that I would need to be on high alert. This was different from my time in Mondstandt–these people weren’t as nice. There were power struggles, ancient history, and oilgraphy. All I could do is wait things out and calmly answer any questions thrown my way. 

“Don’t leave until we searched every inch of this Funeral Parlor, got it?” a guard said, the sound of rushing steps taking over my ears. I could hear doors being flung open, including one with Lumine in it.

“Ah, Traveler, nice to see you here. Have you seen or know of Fatui fugitives that have crossed here?!?” The guard yelled, another guard opening my room.

“Who are you? State your reason for being here,” the guard said, hoisting his spear slightly higher than the ground. I frowned. I had to get this cover right. And if I didn’t…I may be hauled off for additional questioning.

“My name is Noriko. I had nowhere to go when the incident happened, so Director Hu was kind enough to lend me a place for the night. I don’t know anything else, please trust me,” I spoke, trying my best to be meek, weak–vulnerable. 

“Ah, so your name is Noriko? Do you have your papers with your Liyue residency?” the guard asked. I bit my lip, shaking my head. 

“I do not have papers, I am simply a visitor that came with my partner. He–Mazaki–and I wanted to buy a house here, become residents. But ever since that incident…he’s been insistent on getting us out of here,” I said, rubbing the back of my head. 

“Sorry, I am bad at these confrontations,” I spoke again, hoping the guards would ease up.

“Certainly with traveling you must have some sort of papers regarding where you are from. Please provide the requested documentation to be void of all suspicions,”  the guard said, placing his weapon down and extending a hand. Fuck–Sir never gave me paperwork. And with both members being gone…I had to freelance it.

“You see, my husband Mazaki–he ran out on me. Stole my papers, my identity–everything,” I tried to explain, but another guard popped up.

“Come on lady, if someone's lover deserts them so easily–and wait–you two are supposedly married?” a different guard chimed in. This was getting harder as the minutes ticked by. Three other guards joined the first two, then they all faced me.

“Miss Ninggaung will need to see you personally. We can’t verify your i–” the guards said, but a snarky Paimon sneaked into the room.

“Quit trying to make a poor woman stress even further. The Traveler and I have been trying to help her find home. You see, back in Mondstandt,” Paimon said, putting on some goofy glasses as she outlined my (non Fatui) journey to Liyue. The guards all nod, slowly leaving your room as Lumine attests to your identity. Lumine was a true friend…even lying to guards about my origins.

“Ah, well we apologize, Traveler. We must be on our way now, Ningguang is wanting sweeping check ins of all the places in Liyue. It’s not just you, it's the entirety of Liyue Harbor we have to cover. And then, the outer cities too. We don’t know how close or far the threat is, so we’re touching base everywhere we can,” a guard said, another guard clearing his throat.

“A–ahem, sorry. That was classified information I just told you. Forget it,” the guard said, regaining composure as the group of five left the Funeral Parlor in silence. Once all guards were cleared and away from the Funeral Parlor, Hu Tao exhaled.

“It was good that your other constituents ended up leaving as early as they did. Seems like Ningguang is pulling all the stops in order to counter Fatui's plan. It’d be in their best interest to give you some paperwork for the short term. Relying on Lumine’s clout will only last so long. Also, what’s this about being the Stolen Fatui princess?” Hu Tao explained, her brow relaxing as she eyes me. I nodded and bowed to Hu Tao, thanking her again and again for her services. 

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be handed to Ningguang on a silver platter. And that…was a rumor that started in Mondstandt. Tartaglia wanted to show off so he carried me, through Mondstandt …naked…” I explained, feeling my face fill up with red. Hu Tao laughed heartily, holding her stomach as her laughing continued.

“Hah, okay that was a good laugh. And to have such a specific reason for being here is good for you. But that doesn’t mean you are out of the woods yet. You’ll need to get out of here eventually. Traveler, Paimon–can I rely on you to ensure she gets where she needs to be safe and sound?” Hu Tao asked, taking up a broom and sweeping up the dust the guards brought in. 

“Yeah, you can leave it to us! Paimon’s just worried Tartaglia will run through the city naked again,” Paimon said, flying over toward the front door. Lumine nods, walking over to the door as well. I was nervous, but knew it was high time to leave. My fellow Harbingers must have found something to leave the funeral parlor so quickly. 

As I stood beside Paimon and Lumine, Hu Tao gave us one final wave before both of her hands were occupied with sweeping.

“I have to do my best to meet with Ningguang soon, and to figure out how to organize the Seven and Eight gate. Please, stay safe, and I mean that for all of you!” Hu Tao said. Lumine and I both nodded to them, heading out of the Funeral Parlor to many guards standing outdoors. Each place was being inspected head to toe, without a single corner being unsupervised.

“Well, Lumine does technically have clearance everywhere. Does that mean Noriko will have it too?” Paimon said, flying alongside Lumine. As the guards looked over us, they regarded Lumine with a friendly wave. It wasn’t until we neared the end of Liyue Harbor that a guard stopped us.

“Sorry, can’t leave until we search the entire perimeter. Ningguang and Qixing have agreed to keep everyone contained to this area. That includes you, Traveler,” the guard said, sighing after. 

“Paimon thought we were given clearance everywhere! When did that change?” Paimon said, before turning around to see Zhongli with a pensive face. That was him–the one I saw in my dreams! I gulped–was this what I had to prepare for?

“Ah, my apologies. These three are with me. We were hoping to paint some of Liyue’s mountains, but now is no longer a good time to do such. Do not mind us as we return into Liyue Harbor to find another way to pass the time,” Zhongli explained, to which the guards nodded.

“Ah, Zhongli, always with the paintings and history and dramas. He’s your guy if you wanna spend the day learning,” a guard said, some bowing to him. 

“Well those are my specialties. Say Traveler, how long has it been since we shared a cup of tea together? We should head over to the Teahouse and enjoy the time we have,” Zhongli added, showing a small smile.  

“That sounds perfect,” Lumine said, “Lead the way, Zhongli.” And we were thwarted back into the fray, passing guard after guard. By the time we reached the teahouse, it appeared to be empty. An older gentleman showed, holding a teapot that he placed on a table. Hmm–could this have been poisoned? Lumine, Zhongli, Paimon and I all took a seat at the table. Just one floor above was flooded with guards, as if to guard the Northland Bank from any more tragedy. 

“Will you have your usual?” the older man asked, looking toward Zhongli. In response, Zhongli nods.

“It would be a pleasure to have my usual. Traveler, have you tried this tea yet? It’s made…” Zhongli said, proceeding to give a long history of this specific tea and how it’s evolved. I  couldn’t believe the people of Liyue were stupid enough not to see their Archon in human garbs. 

Zhongli expertly served the tea with it being hot enough to steep but cool enough to drink. I took several sips, enjoying the taste. It hadn’t tasted poisonous–it was actually quite delicious! 

“Mmm, Paimon loves this tea! But it would be so much better with treats,” Paimon said, Lumine smiling at Paimon.

“Though, it piques my interest why you’re in Liyue right now. It’s not the safest time, but Ninnguang is doing her best to cull worries,” Zhongli explained, sighing, “At the expense of our coffers.” That was an odd thing for Zhongli to say–I have to gather more information.

“Oh, we were just super unlucky…but why would this impact the coffers, Zhongli?” I asked. I searched his eyes for familiarity–but he seemed so relaxed, so hard to read. Did he forget about that vision he gave me during our investigation of the domains?

“Well, someone had to pay for all the guards at watch, for preparations for Yelan’s funeral–and the fear in Liyue Harbor has yet to quell, even with the enormous presence of guards. The out of pocket expenses along with lost revenue will cause a strain on Liyue Harbor’s economy. But I must believe that the Qixing will find a strategic way of pivoting the situation,” Zhongli explained, lifting his teacup to take a sip. Lumine and Paimon sip their teas as well…the quiet. The silence on the table did not feel tense–rather, it was the quiet realization of how bad things were to get in Liyue. 

“The ripple effects of Yelan’s passing must seem unending,” Lumine said, “How will everyone fair once the smoke has cleared? What if–” Lumine said, but Zhongli gently tapped the table with his teacup. Lumine stops speaking. I averted my glance to Zhongli–seeing a blank expression. Was he regretting his decision of stepping down as an Archon? Or was he just displeased with this particular situation? 

“It’s less of a ripple effect and more of a tsunami. When someone of that caliber dies, it leaves a disaster wherever it goes. In this case, it’s Liyue as a whole. Every home, dwelling, town, and city will be checked like martial law. Citizens may feel uneasy or fearful–but they need to feel more secure after this. Otherwise, the money funneled into this campaign would be for naught. It is truly up to Liyue’s citizens on how things will fair from now,” Zhongli explained, picking up the teapot and pouring out more tea for himself. He then goes around and fills everyone’s teacups releasing a heavy sigh. There had to be more going on–Zhongli appeared too morose. There had to be something else bothering the tea master.

“You seem sad. Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?”  I asked, egging on more intrigue regarding Liyue’s political system. 

“Well, if I did, I would just rehash what I have been saying. People do not feel safe, and by proxy, will impact how Liyue Harbor fairs in terms of business. We need to show the world that Liyue Harbor is still the best place to show up via water channels. Otherwise, we lose over a third of our profits,” Zhongli said, holding his head, “But that shouldn’t be our worry. It will hopefully die down over the next few weeks. As fast as people are struck with fear is also as fast as they forget. Once they see no one else is being killed–people will fall back into place,” Zhongli added, sounding more positive as he continued to speak. The table is taken over by silence again, Paimon awkwardly finishing her cup and placing it alongside the table. Lumine does the same. I move mine second to last, the teapot facing Zhongli’s way. He stares down at his teacup, drinking the remainder with a chug of sorts. He places the teacup on the table like the rest of us, Zhongli putting down a few mora coins. This causes amazement on Paimon and Lumine’s face.

“Wow, today is really crazy! First what happened yesterday and now Zhongli having his own Mora! Maybe the word is ending, Paimon’s head is spinning again,” Paimon spoke, gesturing to the mora coins on the table. Lumine laughs at this, shaking her head.

“Paimon, sometimes people can come into money, let’s not embarrass Zhongli in front of Noriko,”  Lumine said before bursting into more laughter. Wait–was the Archon truly that poor? It wasn’t long until we were all laughing (including Zhongli).

“Ah, I needed a good laugh. Thank you for bringing joy and friendship to these harrowing days,” Zhongli said, standing up as he bowed, “Consider this tea on me.” Paimon and Lumine grin at this, the old man picking up the coins and smiling at himself.

“This is the first time in quite a while Zhongli has paid for his own tea. Astonishing!” the old man said, bowing to all of us, “I hope you all enjoyed the tea.” We bow back to him, Zhongli heading toward the Northland Bank area. He follows the stairs to where it was. Out of curiosity, Lumine, Paimon and I also followed. Zhongli likely knew we were watching, but it was unclear. Once he was outside of the Northland Bank, several guards surrounded him.

“Only authorized people are allowed near this active crime scene. Please state your name and purpose for this visit,” the guards said in unison, tapping their spears against the red flooring. 

“My name is Zhongli. My intentions are to track down who killed Yelan. I believe I know the assailant, I just need to review the elemental resonance in the banking area,” Zhongli said. The guards group up into a circle, whispering. It takes them a few minutes, but they line up again, facing Zhongli.

“We understand that the funeral parlor may be able to assist with this review, but we must wait for other stakeholders before we make a decision. Ninngaung and Director Hu should be meeting around now. You are welcome to stay put until they have finished their meeting.” one guard said, the others nodding at the words.

“Well, I have something you’d want to hear, guards,” a familiar voice rang out. From the orange hair to the clothes–it was Tartaglia! The guards begin to mobilize, but Zhongli shakes his head.

“No more blood should be shed  today. What is it that you want us to listen to, Tartaglia?” Zhongli asked. No–it was the recording! The one Hu Tao said to not play yet. I ran up those stairs as fast as I could, trying to tackle Tartaglia. He moved away, causing me to crash my head into the wooden bridge. I rubbed my head, grumbling. The guards proceeded to look between Tartaglia and myself. 

“Is that...the Stolen Fatui princess?!?” The guards say in unison, bowing. I blinked–what was happening? Tartaglia laughed,putting me back on my feet  with a single hand. 

“Ah, so you heard of the rumors from Mondstadt. I do not think she is their princess, rather, someone's girlfriend from Fatui. Isn’t that correct, Tartaglia?” Zhongli said, gesturing over to my boyfriend. He cackles, wrapping an arm around me.

“Princess this, Princess that. You are forgetting that if that logic is true, I am a prince!” Tartaglia said, laughing more after. Zhongli shakes his head in shame, turning his attention back to the guards.

“Wow, I don’t know what to think about all this…” muttered one guard to another.

“If he is a prince, then why bother us at Liyue?” whispered another guard. 

“I have a recording that will change Liyue as you all know it. But, before I play said audio, I demand a meeting with Ningguang and the Qixing. Otherwise, well, this audio will have a severe impact on Liyue and its citizens.” Tartaglia said, tightening his hold onto me, “And if you rather fight, well, I’m always down for a spar.” Silence took over the ground, the guards looking at one another and shrugging. Soon, one guard steps out from the rest. In the quiet, Zhongli manages to exit the scene without incident. I wouldn't blame Zhongi--he left his position and likely wanted the Qixing to settle these matters.

“I will let the superiors know you want a conference, Tartaglia. Just please–no more bloodshed. We’ve seen enough in the past days,” a guard said, turning to his team, “No one goes in that bank, you hear me?” 

“Sir!” the remaining guards responded, tapping their spears down as they remained  in front of Northland Bank. As the guard exited, I felt Tartaglia pepper me with kisses, kissing all over my face before reaching my lips. I kissed him back, nervous–anxious–who was I supposed to be? If I weren’t Mai nor Noriko…who was I? 

“Mmm, my girlie taste so good,” Tartaglia said, giving me deep kisses along my neck. I bit my lip, trying my best to keep a straight face. I failed at this the moment Tartaglia’s lips met mine again. My hands reach upward, grabbing at his orange hair. Tartaglia leans closer into me, deepening the kiss. The guards and other onlookers remain silent, watching. 

“Mrmm, stop it–we have to focus,” I mumbled through a kiss. Tartaglia just laughed, his hands moving down to my waist as he held me to him close.

“Focus on what? It seems like we already have Liyue at a standstill, my love,” Tartaglia said, gently patting my back. I grumbled, pulling my lips away from him. Tartaglia glances over my body before a sneaky look shows on his face. Without a second of warning–Tartaglia was deeply kissing me again. I kissed him back, trying to grab a tuft of his orange hair to stop him. But–no–that just made the kissing more sloppy. One of his hands slipped away from my side, gripping my hair in turn. Our hands both grip down tightly on the other's hair. My eyes looked into Tartaglia’s–full of lust. His lips part mine only briefly, his hands moving again toward my sides. He continued the makeout session, his arms holding me close enough to feel his groin. No way, he wasn’t thinking–out here in front of everyone…? My face flushed at the thought, his lips still kissing and massaging my own.

“Isn’t this turning into indecent exposure, sir?” a guard asked another.

“Do you want to fight a Harbinger over PDA?” the guard asked, which then caused them to go back to being silent. I tried hard to resist my boyfriend’s advances–but it was too difficult of a challenge to bear. I gradually let go of his hair,  legs propelling forward toward his groin. I could hear Tartaglia getting more excited by his labored breathing. We continued  to kiss, Tartaglia beginning to take off his clothes.

“Ahem, Tartaglia! We do–” Paimon tried to say, but his shirt was already off, fallen onto Paimon. The guards watch, half in interest, half in disgust. 

“Hurry up Mazaki, I don’t want to watch this anymore,” muttered a guard. Mazaki–wait–that must be Sir in disguise! And we are the distraction–wait–we are distracting them! I smiled a bit as the kissing continued, Tartaglia beginning to unbuckle his pants. A guard stepped up, raising his spear toward Tartaglia.