Dottore's greatest creation, Y/n. You were a slave to the Fatui whose sole purpose was to serve and protect your master, Scaramouche.
What happens when Dottore's product isn't so flawless after all; when a single catastrophic defect in your system...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As you strained to pull the key out of your pocket, the expensive bag Childe had given you fell from your wrist and onto the ground. "Damn." You murmured without much thought, lazily scooping it up and eventually drawing out your room key. With a twist, you unlocked the door and pushed your way inside.
Entering the room, you took notice of one thing. This asshole was still asleep.
Your mouth was wide open as you stared at 'sleeping beauty', finding this whole situation unreal. You glanced at the clock and realized it was already noon.
"Master." Your tone was gentle yet firm. No response. "Master." You repeated much stronger with a little hint of attitude. Still no response.
Crap, he's not dead is he? There was no way you killed him that easily.
You made your way towards the side he was laying on and lifted his hand. It wasn't cold so that's a good sign. Your fingers trailed lower to his wrist and pressed down, searching for a pulse.
....Yep, all good.
Was he feeling sick then? Maybe you should run a scan. Sure, he'll definitely kill you when he wakes up but this was urgent.
Scaramouche Health 98% Affection 13%
You hummed to yourself, unsure of what to do. He was perfectly fine so that could only mean one thing. He wasn't a morning person.
Your hand was abruptly yanked off, causing you to step back in natural instinct.
Scaramouche slowly sat up and rubbed his sleepy eyes. He took a few seconds to fully adjust to the light, later turning to you with a grumpy frown. "You're late, dumbass." His voice was husky, the result of just waking up from a deep slumber.
Your lips pressed firmly together, saving yourself from a regretful dispute. He technically wasn't wrong but at the same time, it's not like he's been waiting hours for your return.
