Chapter Text
Anxiety thrummed in Ororon’s veins.
He steadied his boots firmly in the snowy ground below. He always used ranged attacking while in battle, this time it would be no different, it seems. Ororon readied his gun, his bow resting on his back, ready to be pulled out as a substitute at anytime.
His opponent, a Pyro Gunner who was Tartaglia’s subordinate, got out his gun as well in a confident and languid manner, slow and cocky. Tartaglia patiently stood by the sidelines, leaning on a large crate. The Pyro Gunner was a good distance away from him, and there were obstacles in between them, sandbags, crates, places to hide themselves while shooting in general.
Ororon took a deep breath in. This was an opportunity to prove his worth, prove that he’s capable of doing good in the world and succeeding in battle.
It was an opportunity to officiate his ‘new life.’
“Alright,” Childe barked out cheerfully. “You both know the rules, these are fake bullets, and you are to used ranged attacks only. If you get three shots on the other’s body, you win, but if you get one shot on the other’s head, you win automatically.”
“I understand,” Ororon nodded after swallowing a lump in his throat.
“Will do, boss,” The Pyro Gunner replied.
“Then,” Tartaglia grinned. “Get to it!”
At this, Ororon stumbled a bit backwards and ducked for cover behind a crate as The Pyro Gunner immediately launched out shots at him. This was like the war with the abyss attack after attack with no foreseeable end, he thought to himself. Is that what kind of situation he’s getting into again?
He heard cheers from the sidelines; Tartaglia’s subordinates yelling and clapping as if what was going on was a game for their entertainment. Alright, Ororon, he told himself, after this is done, we’ll ask Childe to get some coffee, and then we’ll explore the city and try and find some fellow farmers.
Ororon took a deep breath and fixed his position on his gun.
His ears strained side to side to side, trying to find where exactly the gunman was without his sight. Footsteps against the dirty snow, crunch, crunch, thump. A shot against his crate. Determined, Ororon crawled away from the crate he hid against and went behind a pile of sandbags, he laid down flat on his stomach turned towards where his opponent will be.
Crunch, crunch, thump.
Ororon raised his rifle, utilizing the scope and bringing it to his eye.
Crunch, crunch- bang!
Ororon pulled the trigger the moment the gunner’s forehead came into his vision, painting is a blue color from the fake bullet. The gunner froze, stunned. Then, after a moment he came back to his senses. “Aw, damn it!” He whined, knowing he had just lost.
Cheers erupted from the sidelines before he heard Tartaglia gently shush them. Ororon stood up, looking towards Childe. He watched as the harbinger clapped with a grin and waved his hand towards the gunner. “Good job to both of you comrades. Alright…. Alina! You’re up next!”
After that a mirror maiden fought him, it was much harder than the gunner, especially with her hydro mirror powers. Eventually, Ororon a smoke spell from the Masters of the Nightwind, the same spell he used to save Capitano. Ororon jumped up in the air and levitated, then shot at the mirror maiden once he got annoyed by her attacks, especially after she landed two hits in a row on him.
Then, Tartaglia himself stepped up, just like he told him he would.
Ororon really doubted that he could beat him, even though he was feeling more confident.
“Would you prefer me to use a gun or a bow, bat boy?” He asked, smirking lazily as he made his way to the small weapon rack, eyeing him up with elusive attraction. “I used to have trouble with a bow, but now I would say I’m pretty good at it.”
“Really?” Ororon asked, straightening his back. “Let’s use bows then.”
Childe picked up his bow pretty easily as chatter got louder from the sidelines. “I can be pretty fast, so I’ll adjust the rules of this round if that’s okay with you.”
“Alright,” Ororon said, setting down his rifle and crossing his arms.
Childe looked down and got his bow ready, not looking up at Ororon. “We use real arrows, just no elemental energy on them.” Then, Tartaglia’s eyes flashed upward, forcing Ororon to look in those depressing depths of eyes. “If you get one arrow in me, you win automatically.”
Ororon’s ears perked up at this and he raised an eyebrow. Childe was strong, and this just meant he was confident in his abilities. “You’re awfully confident.”
“For good reason, I assure you.” Tartaglia smiled, readying his position with his bow. “Come, if you can beat me, I will be extremely happy. And don’t worry, you can use all the tricks you want.”
“Well, showing off all my tricks would ruin the surprise,” Ororon said, drawing his bow from his back.
One of Tartaglia’s subordinates stepped in between the two, “Alright, ready?”
“I am,” Ororon nodded, taking a step back.
“As am I.”
“Then, three, two, one!” The subordinate quickly got out of the way, and Ororon watched as Childe’s posture suddenly changed, going ridged and straight, exactly like one of Capitano’s soldiers.
Seeing that Tartaglia wasn’t doing anything but smiling at him, Ororon took the chance and shot an arrow at him, only for Tartaglia to grin widely and doge it immediately in a flash of hydro energy, zipping from side to side. “I won’t aim for any vital organs, don’t worry,” Childe called out, though Ororon could not see his body.
Ororon dashed backwards shooting another arrow at the hydro energy. Whoosh, whoosh, side to side Tartaglia approached him. Ororon’s gaze flickered back and forth trying to find what direction Tartaglia was in and ultimately failed.
Then, the water stopped, with Childe nowhere to be found. Confused, Ororon jumped up into the air and looked around with his keen eyes. Nothing was in front of him. Then, he heard an arrow soar through the sky. It was barely there, a faint sound really. Ororon’s ears strained and at the split second the arrow nicked his neck, he dodged so it wouldn’t pierce him further.
He spun around mid air, ignoring the pain from the scratch. Tartaglia was behind him on the ground. It seems he did not overestimate Childe’s abilities.
Childe shot three more arrows quickly, all of which Ororon had trouble dodging going up, down and left. Then, he got an idea. He floated backwards, subtly getting something out of his coat pocket it was a bottle full of liquid he needed to spray to cast this spell.
“Going somewhere, bat boy?” Tartaglia called out to him.
Ororon chose not to reply, instead spraying the mist so he could make the illusion that he was still up there floating in the sky. While the illusion floated there, Ororon quickly made his way to Tartaglia, who was drawing his bow to shoot at the illusion. He found himself a considerable distance behind Childe, he drew his bow to shoot at him, let the string lose from his fingers, and then-
Childe caught the arrow.
“I’m a very perspective man, Ororon.” He said, snapping the arrow. However, he sounded cheerful. He turned around with a grin, “I saw that little bottle, and the way you were just floating, not moving or blinking. I’m impressed.”
Ororon yawned as he walked in Tartaglia’s office along with him a few hours after they fought. The bat collapsed on one of the chairs that face Childe’s nearly bare desk. “What I wouldn’t give for a cup of coffee…” he groaned out, utterly exhausted. “No, no, I know I wouldn’t give up my garden back home for coffee…”
He heard Childe laugh behind him and watched as he walked over to stand in front of Ororon. “Here ya go, bat boy.”
A badge and a paper were gently placed in his hands. Ororon squinted as he looked down at both of them. “Really? So I… I did well?” He asked before looking up at Tartaglia.
“You did way better than I expected,” he said easily, his eyes going over his figure, inspecting every detail of him. “I was right about you. You have some untapped potential. I’ll help you utilize all of that, okay?”
“Thank you,” Ororon said with a smile. “That really means a lot.”
Tartaglia looked down at him, a complicated and unreadable expression on his face. “I know that I’m your boss now, but… if you would ever want to do anything like we did that night again, I wouldn’t be opposed.” He said quietly.
Ororon blinked, surprised. They hadn’t brought up what happened that night three days ago, besides around three to five flirtatious remarks Tartaglia said to him, Ororon almost believed it was a dream. And honestly, while it felt nice physically, he regretted it now. Ororon knows Capitano probably doesn’t want anything to do with him now, and yet still he hold guilt in his heart for this. Perhaps he is simply too attached to the image of The Captain in his mind.
When they had sex, it was an impulsive decision. A very impulsive decision that he hadn’t thought through, or had the time to think about in the last three days. Now that his mind is more clear, he will make sure to think thoroughly this time.
Ororon backed away from Childe a bit, even though he was sitting down in a chair. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I would be able to… I’m just…” he trailed off, hoping Childe would understand.
“It’s fine, I understand.” Tartaglia said, taking the rejection seemingly easily, though with Ororon’s keen eye he could tell he was genuinely a bit hurt. Childe put up a grin, “You just got a big promotion! You better keep your eyes on the prize and not some pesky boss of yours, hm?” When Tartaglia said this, he took a step back, throwing his hands into his pockets in an attempt to appear casual.
Ororon wasn’t sure what to say back to that, and instead watched as Childe walked out, his fingers fidgeting with a ring on his hand. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna head out.” Was all the harbinger said.
The door clicked shut and Ororon sighed and looked down at the paper and the badge he was just given. On the paper, there was a photo that Childe took of him before he fought with his subordinates and him. He had a polite smile and dark, deep eye bags that held pounds of weight to them. The paperwork had his first name, Ororon, and since he didn’t have a last name, it seems Childe just simply gave him one.
He blinked when he read it. “Ororon Ilori.”
That was a surname from Natlan, Tartaglia researched Natlanese names for him. Ororon frowned as some odd feeling stung inside of him. He had a new life now, away from Natlan. And yet, the same person who introduced this new life to him gave him a name that attached him to his old life. Tartaglia seemed like a very sentimental person.
Ororon ran his thumb over his new badge. Sergeant Ilori. That did have a nice ring to it.
“Sergeant Ilori…” Capitano muttered, running his thumb over the small black and white picture on the document.
Two days after he talked to Childe about it, The Captain was swamped with trainings with soldiers, paperwork and more. Now that he finally has free time again, he’s decided that trying to find paperwork on Ororon would be a good course of action. The desk accountant that he talked to to get the paperwork was freighted and confused as to why Capitano wanted it, but handed it over without much complaint.
So here he stood in the middle of an office, staring down at a document.
The picture of Ororon made him admittedly sad. He missed him dearly, that much was true, but it was also the fact that Ororon looked tired. He was missing his hood, instead wearing that coat he had on the day that he had “died,” his eyes were tired pits of sleep deprivation, and his lips were slightly curled into a polite smile.
Ilori… since when did Ororon have a surname?
His gaze went down to the lines of text underneath the name and the photo.
“Ororon Ilori, Sex: Male, Age: 24, Weight: 156 lbs, Height: 5’10, Harbinger Under: Tartaglia.
Note from Tartaglia: Ororon Ilori is especially efficient at ranged attacks. He is an excellent sniper, making him a great candidate for assassinations from afar in quick and clean ways. Ororon Ilori has excellent hearing along with echolocation. He has a great eye, and is very observant of his surroundings. He shows empathy towards his comrades which means he would show care on the battlefield and watch his comrades backs. I’m proud to have him as a sergeant.”
Sergeant. How could Capitano let this go so far off the rails?
“I’ll be taking this,” The Captain said to the accountant. “Do you have a copy of it?”
The accountant blinked. “Y-yes, sir! We keep copies of every high ranking official!”
“Good,” Capitano nodded. “Have a nice day,” he said to them, then turned his heel and walked through the wooden doors. He walked quickly and briskly to his office, which was the floor above the one he was just on. All the while, he gripped the paper in his hand, most definitely wrinkling it around his fingers.
He locked the door to his office with a click, impulsivity and shame running through his mind as his back hit the wall of his door and he found himself spitting in the palm of his hand before shoving it down his pants while staring at that small black and white picture.
“Daddy,” he had always heard him gasp, whether Ororon was in his arms or he was in Ororon’s.
“Fuck,” he whispered shamefully when he began tugging at his cock, imagining Ororon was on his knees for him, wrapping his wet tongue around his dick. He would slowly sink down on it, looking up at him with those tired eyes while he slowly bobbed his head up and down.
Capitano bucked up into his gloved hand, knowing all his fluids would be quite hard to wash out of it. He gasped softly, squeezing his fully hard cock before pumping his hand up and down. Arousal and desperation swirled in his gut in a nasty way, making him feel terrible and amazing at the same time.
He pictured the way Ororon’s eyes would well up with tears because of his gag reflex being pushed to its limit, the way his soft ears would flatten against his head when The Captain forced him down and decided to fuck his face.
The Captain wouldn’t be able to recreate the feeling of Ororon whining around his cock, the vibration it would make that would seep to Capitano’s very core.
Up and down, up and down his hand went all while staring heavily at that photo and name. This was obsessive, this was desperate, he couldn’t believe he was doing such a thing. Capitano imagined the way Ororon’s eyes would flutter shut with a soft whine when The Captain pulled Ororon’s head off of his cock and came all over that pretty face.
He missed him, missed his awkward remarks, missed the warmth he gave him and the affection he laid upon him.
“Little bat…” he groaned quietly, roughly fucking his hand. He bit his lip, throwing his head back as he started thrusting into his rough glove sloppily. At this point, he would surely be fucking Ororon’s throat with no abandon.
He came unceremoniously and early into his gloves, hoping he didn’t get any his his pants. When he game he opened his eyes and sighed, looking up at the ceiling above. He felt terrible.
Capitano yanked out his hand from his pants, grimacing at the fluids on the glove. Jerking off to a picture of Ororon didn’t do anything for him afterwards, he only found him missing him more. He hated it, he hated himself in this moment for being so shameful over a man that he himself left.
Perhaps he could-
A firm and polite knock on the door startled him, and he backed away from it, cheeks burning from embarrassment. “One moment,” he said to the person behind it. Capitano ripped off his right glove, tossing it on his desk along with Ororon’s paperwork. His coat would hide his hand.
He opened the door with his left hand. Monet stared back at him. “Sir,” she politely nodded.
“Good afternoon, Monet. What do you need?”
A conflicted look appeared on her face. “I ran into Lord Tartaglia in the hallway, when he approached he seemed very rushed. He- he told me that I had to report to you immediately that The Knave’s negotiations fell through. He said that there’s a harbinger meeting happening last minute. Apparently, there was a letter they send to you as well, though I don’t have that.”
Ah. No, he knew what letter she was talking about. It sat on his desk. It had been for an hour, he was just so busy with getting Ororon’s paperwork and getting himself off that he didn’t even open it.
“I have the letter. Thank you, Monet. If you have nothing else to say, you are dismissed,” he nodded, thankful for the mask on his face that covered his embarrassed, blushing cheeks.
“I… I do have something to say, Captain. However, it’s a more personal matter, if I may speak.” She said nervously. Odd, Monet was always very confident.
Because of this change in demeanor, Capitano nodded. “You may.”
“I really don’t mean to impose on your personal life, Captain. But…” He watched as she swallowed thickly. “I heard about what happened with Ororon-”
The Captain sharply inhaled, cutting her off. “I know you mean well, Monet. However as your boss I deem it inappropriate that I talk with you about these matters.”
Monet nodded slowly with a frown. “Alright, I understand. I hope… I hope you feel better, sir. All of us care about you. I will leave now to let you get ready for that meeting,” She said before bowing.
“Thank you, Monet.” He responded quietly.
She nodded and left, allowing Capitano to close his office door with another big sigh. Another meeting. Work never seems to end nowadays, really. The stress of it has just piled on top of more stress after his breakup with Ororon.
“Goddamn it…”
The visual of Ororon in full Fatui attire with a rifle strapped to his back hurt. He hated it, he despised the sight of it.
Capitano and a small group of his elite soldiers were traveling with Tartaglia and a small group of his soldiers. The forces the Fatui had that were going into Natlan had to be broken up by a lot, being led by sergeants and lieutenants instead of their respective harbingers so they could travel easier.
It made sense that Capitano and Tartaglia were chosen as the harbingers to begin the invasion. They were the ones who most fit the bill of soldiers. The others were diplomats, politicians or scientists. The Captain and Childe? They were bred for war.
He frowned seeing Ororon taking with Tartaglia. Did Ororon even know what this was? They were going into his nation, most likely going to terrify his people. Against his better judgement, he walked up to them. When Ororon turned his head towards him, he saw the way his eyes lit up, the way his ears perked up ever so slightly at the sight of him.
“He’s still in love with you, by the way. You’re lucky you’ve found someone so devoted to you, despite how sad he is, I can see it in his eyes. You’re all he thinks about.” Tartaglia had said to him a few days ago.
The Captain looked down at Ororon, to the side he saw Childe giving him a small smile. It seems Pulcinella’s diplomatic trainings are doing him well. “Ororon.” He said simply. When he said that, he noticed the way Tartaglia moved ever so slightly closer to Ororon.
Ororon crossed his arms, giving Capitano a blank stare, which honestly looked like a glare. “Hello,” he replied.
The Captain looked at Childe for a moment, who seemed intent on staying for the conversation. Sure, whatever. That didn’t matter to him. “Do you even know where this mission is? What you’re getting yourself into?” He asked, crossing his arms as well.
“I do. We’re going into Natlan so you could put pressure on Mavuika to give you guys the Gnosis.”
“You have no issue with that? We’re going into your land, your people will hate you if they see you.”
This caused Ororon to fully frown, his gaze drifting to the ground below. “Well, you got what you wanted, right? I’m going back to Natlan. I don’t care what other people think of me, I want to do good. The Tsaritsa will do good with the gnosis, will she not?”
Capitano went silent for a moment. “She will. I still believe in her vision for the future.”
“Then I will help her get it.” Then, Ororon’s face hardened. “Will you hurt anybody in Natlan?”
“We don’t intend to. But if someone hurts us we will fight back. It is not my intention to harm your land or people. We only want the gnosis in the long term, it’s essentially only military occupation.”
Ororon did not respond, still glaring up at him. Tartaglia decided it was a good time to wedge his way in, apparently. He put a hand on Ororon’s shoulder casually as he looked at Ororon from the side. “Well, then. We must help out our comrades, bat boy. Arriving to Natlan late could put a bullet in our plans,” he raised his gaze to meet Capitano’s. “Don’t you agree, Captain?”
He hated how close the two seemed. ‘Bat boy,’ hm?
“I agree. We have a time limit on this mission, if we don’t complete it properly within two months, The Doctor and The Damslette will cross Natlan’s borders. For the sanity of everyone here, I would prefer if that didn’t happen.”
Ororon stayed silent for another moment, frowning and looking towards the ground. “Would you be willing to talk to me?” He asked Capitano quietly.
The Captain stared at him. He wanted him back so badly, but keeping his distance will still be necessary, he still remembered it all, remembered the squelching of The Doctor’s hand in Ororon’s chest. “I must help the others pack. Perhaps some other day… sergeant.”
He then walked off without another word.