( fatui harbingers x gn! reader )
─── 𝘿𝘼𝙈𝙉𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙀𝙉𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘾𝙀 𝙇𝘼𝙔 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙆 𝙊𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝙇𝙄𝙋𝙎. lies reign aplenty in the realm of the tsaritsa, yet your shred of truth may captivate those deprived of the light.
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C H A P T E R VII . ᵗʰⁱⁿᵉ ᶠᵃⁱʳ ᵐᵃⁱᵈᵉⁿ
【✧】
IT FELT LIKE YOU WERE UNDERWATER. You were drowning under the premonition of sleep, stifling your cries with each intake of liquid you pitifully took in. Something was wrapping its cold talons around your throat, squeezing your skin so tightly until red, angry marks erupted onto your neck. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't speak. The only thing you could do was flail helplessly, the unmerciful water around you slowing your frantic movements to an almost dreamlike pace.
For a moment, you thought of yourself surrendering to the ocean's hold. Down there, you wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. You'd be floating endlessly in a state of tranquility, your troubled thoughts the furthest thing from your calm mind.
But just as quickly as that idea had sprouted from nothing, you had been pulled from the icy waters.
You shot up from the bed beneath you, sheets mussed and wrinkled as you gasped desperately for air. With each shuddering breath you took, you found yourself adjusting more and more to the reality you returned to as your panicked expression slowly eased back into one of neutralness, tinged with a gray cast of somnolence.
Archons, you felt so tired. Drowsiness ran through your veins like ice, weighing down your movements with leaden lethargy, refusing to let you move your limbs unless under its jurisdiction. Your head pounded something awful, beating your temples like a hilichurl striking a drum with its spindly fists, mixing with the fatigue to create a horrible sensation that wracked your bones with a vengeance.
You pressed your hand to your mouth, struggling to fight the sudden wave of nausea that pummeled your weak body. The sour taste of bile coated your tongue as curses flew past your chapped lips like arrows, attempting to prevent your stomach's contents from emptying out on your lap.
You were hungover. Painfully hungover. Regrets were already piling in your mind as you haphazardly threw yourself back onto the pillows on the bed, feeling the plush cushions support your fall from beneath you. How much did you even have to drink last night? You could vaguely remember taking several shots of Fire-Water in your favorite tavern before your fragments of memory grew foggy.
You rolled over, the heavy quilt on top of you twisting around your legs as you suppressed a frustrated scream. Some teacher you were, getting drunk on a night before you taught your students. Guilt festered in your heart as you imagined the disappointed faces of your pupils at Inessa's news -- you were sure that Teucer would be one of the unhappiest, especially since you tried to keep him updated on news about his brother.
A spark of realization flickered to life in your mind. Inessa. It was like her name had been the key to unlocking your forgotten memories, flushed out by the overwhelming emotions that had run through you on that doomed night. Where was she? Was she okay? There was so much blood, so much pain, so much of everything that you weren't sure if the alcohol or the distress prevented you from thinking too much about it.
