Harbinger Diluc - Match 2: New Normal  Synopsis: One day, the Harbinger meets someone who ignites something different in him –...

Harbinger Diluc - Match 2: New Normal 

Synopsis: One day, the Harbinger meets someone who ignites something different in him – and all he knows is to keep what he wants close, even if he has to break their wings.

Harbinger!Diluc x FM Reader | Anthology      

Match 1 - Introductions             

Warnings (will be specific to each chapter of the story) - > angst, possessive Diluc*, unwanted touching, anxiety from the reader about being forced too be close to Diluc, pinned down, threats of being tied up) 

authors note: this is not canon Diluc* - his behaviors have been changed based on his character as a Harbinger - creative liberties have been taken - enjoy!

Match Two - New Normal

There was an unbearable quiet, only the sound of hooves on the ground, the rattling of metal and the shifting of leather underneath you filled the air. It had taken so long for your heart to stop pounding in your chest, and even though you had calmed down, you were still on edge. How could you not be when trapped between the arms of someone whose existence made you seeth. 

The other annoying problem, other than the oppressive silence, was the heat. It was unbearably hot, it radiated around you, pressed down on every side as if you were trapped in a room that was on fire. It was his fault you were so hot. With his chest pressing against your back, your legs pressing against his, and, no matter how many times you adjusted, there wasn’t an escape from touching him. When you finally did manage to make some distance, the horse shifted underneath you or he picked up the pace which forced you to slide backward. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was purposefully making it impossible to create any distance. 

Finally, you see a reprieve, respite from this slow torture when you caught sight of tents in the distance. It seemed to be the destination and, even though you dreaded the idea of being in a Fatui camp, you couldn’t wait to get away from him. 

Slowing to a trot, you entered the boundaries of the camp and felt more exposed than a fresh babe. There were so many Fatui operatives wandering from place to place and once they caught sight of the harbinger and his passenger, they stared with eyes as sharp as blades. It was unsettling, their eyes, their expressions, their intensity. You’d never, ever let these people see your face if you had any control at this moment. So, without thinking and out of pure self-preservation, you pushed yourself as far into the harbinger’s chest as you could and shield your face from their prying eyes. 

“You don’t need to hide.” You felt his fingers touch your skin and, reactively, you pushed them away before returning to hide behind. He laughed softly but didn’t make another attempt. 

The halting momentum told you that your destination had been reached but you didn’t move. The saddle shifted as he got down from the mount, his hand sliding over your back as he reached to claim you. Once he set you onto the ground, you felt the tired ache in your legs but were unable to relieve them because he grabbed your wrist, dragging you forward, and, out of necessity, you let your head drop to the ground. 

The thick fabric of the tent blocked the noise outside and once the heavy sheet fell into place at the entrance you lifted your head to inspect your surroundings. Following after him as he pulled you further into the tent, you took notice of how simply decorated it was. 

Everything seemed functional, nothing too extravagant or lavish. In fact, it barely looked like anyone resided in here at all save for the furniture and boards which lined the back wall. Maps, notes, and pictures pinned to them in a neat arrangement as if someone took great care of organizing the information there. Splashes of red banners were placed at each pole that kept the tent upright and when you looked at your feet again, you noticed the floor was made from the same material as the walls. Something of this craftsmanship must have been unbelievably expensive. 

The harbinger released you, his heat lingering on your wrist as you tried to rub it away with your other hand. You watched as he removed the long white coat which had become a staple to him. Underneath, was a form-fitting vest on top of a black dress shirt. Impractical, you scoffed, turning your head to the side and crossing your arms. Someone shouted and their muffled voice reminded you how lonely you were in this place. 

The entrance was directly behind you, the freedom of the outside calling your name but you felt chained, frozen. The seeping, overwhelming realization that you’d been captured filled your mind and the question you asked him once before came bubbling back into the forefront of your mind. 

“Why …” You begin, your voice strained, “Why did you bring me here? What do you want with me?” Digging your nails into your arm you looked at him, watched him as he moved toward the documents sprawled out over the table. 

“Does it matter?” His voice was disinterested, eyes avoiding. 

“Yes!” You shouted, but he continued his actions as if you weren’t even there. Carefully, he stacked the documents and his attention to them made you furious. Your emotions boiling over, the frustration, irritation, and exhaustion making it impossible to think logically, you flung open the gates. “What, so you can kidnap a girl but you won’t tell her why. If I’m forced to be here, I’d rather be dead.” You stormed your way toward the entrance not caring what might happen when you walked into the densely populated camp of your enemy.  

Your arm was nearly ripped out of its socket when something yanked you back. Fury rushing through your veins you turned only to see his hand wrapped around your wrist again. “Let go of me.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Then explain to me why you’ve kidnapped me. I deserve to know.” 

“I don’t have to explain anything to you. You don’t seem to realize who has all the power here.” He pulled you close, your hand pressing against his chest, red hair shining brightly around his face and even though you stared at his eyes with hatred, you felt your body react to his closeness. “One day you’ll understand.” 

Your chest moved so quickly as you tried to catch your breath. The contempt you felt mixed with your flustered state and, even though your mind became clouded, you did your best to stay focused. 

“I loath everything that you are, I will never stop fighting you.” 

“I hope one day you will.” He ran his finger over your cheek and you quickly recoiled from his touch, pushing him away to create distance. His fingers hovered where your face was and with disdain in your eyes, you watched his hands fall back to his sides, his expression never changing. 

“Master Diluc.” A voice sounded behind you, the tension filling the air. 

“What is it?” 

“Your presence is needed.” You turned to look at them and even though they were wearing a mask the feeling of their eyes on you was intense. 

“Fine.” He walked past you, his shoulder brushing against your own which made you take a step back. “Do not let her leave this tent. Tie her down if you need to …” He didn’t turn back to look at you, he didn’t even wait for a reply from the other, as soon as his peace was made he was gone. 

The Fatui member looked back at you and, in an effort to avoid their hidden eyes, you turned toward the table and sank into the heavy wooden chair. In despair, you wrapped your hands against the cold wood, rested your head onto them, and sighed so deeply it made your lungs hurt. 

–

Hours went by and you barely moved. You were trapped, what else was there for you to do? It was either pace around the room and dwell on your situation or sit and dwell on your situation. Either was a dreadful option, but at least sitting would save your physical strength, and it meant you didn’t have the tracking gaze of the operative who stood like a hawk by the entrance of the tent. 

At some point, you were given food but you didn’t eat anything. Instead, you pushed the plate away from you, turned your head, and let your thoughts wander. 

Images of your village flashed in your mind, small children running through the dirt streets, citizens you’d known your whole life waving at you, the way they spoke your name with such love and earnestness. It made you wonder if you’d ever hear someone call your name like that again. Flashes of the flower gardens where you’d hide and look up at the vast sky above you, the trees which surrounded the river bed, the stepping stones that every child dares their friends to run across all memories in your mind now and as you desperately tried to hold them in the bright light but, as you sat in this place, they were starting to turn a dark shade of grey. Your old life was gone, a faded painting hidden in the back of the room and now all that you were left with was a painful throb in the places that once brought you happiness. 

Something shifted behind you but you ignored it, your head hadn’t moved for so long that you were sure your neck would scream if you tried now. 

“Leave us.” The voice of the harbinger pierced your heart and to steady yourself, you crumbled further into your body. Pulling your arms closer to your chest, bending your back, and shifting your legs you tried to become a tiny ball, a ball that would go unnoticed. 

It was uncomfortable, knowing that he was near you, invading the space that didn’t belong to you, and even though it would ease your mind to see what he was doing you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

“I’ve been told you haven’t eaten anything.” He seemed far away and you were thankful for that. When you didn’t answer him he sighed and the sound of his footsteps told you he was closing in. “I can’t have that. Was this meal not satisfactory enough for you?” Again, you don’t respond. “If you continue to be difficult, I’ll have no other choice but to force you to eat.” 

“And how will you do that? Tie me down?” 

“If I must, though I’d rather not.” You heard the sound of a chair moving across the thick fabric floor and after a few minutes, you felt heat near your side. Turning your head and ignoring the painful stretch of your neck as you twisted to see what was next to you, your eyes furrowed when you saw it was him. 

“Why don’t you just let me starve? You know, wear me down so you can make it easier or whatever.” 

“I’d like to keep you healthy if I can. Here,” He took a bite of the food, his jaw working to chew before he offered you the bread. “See, it’s not poisoned.” 

“I didn’t even consider that as a possibility.” You mumble, eyeing the bread and ignoring the pain in your stomach.

“Eat, or I’ll hold you down.” His tone sent a shiver down your spine and though you hated the thought of eating food made by these people, you also didn’t want to see him follow through with his threat. 

Grabbing the bread from his hand you sat back against the chair, your body as flush as you could get it so as to not be any closer to him than necessary. The bread was sweet on your tongue and, through your scowl, you took bite after bite. 

“Good.” He stood and you watched as he made his way toward the front entrance, before disappearing. 

—

After returning with a pair of folded-up clothes and practically forcing you to remove the ones you’d been wearing, you finally emerged from the small room near the back of the tent that was set up to be a washroom. It was extremely nice, considering. You guess the Fatui weren’t inclined to splurge on their most ruthless of members. For a second, you wondered if all the harbingers were provided such lavish arrangements. 

The clothes he brought you weren’t what you normally would have worn. The elegant white gown flowed over your body, stopping at your calves, rubbing against them each time you took a step. The neck was low cut, and even though you crossed your arms over your chest it was still easy to see what you wished he couldn’t. The sleeves fell loosely around your arms, the material they were made out of was sheer enough for anyone to see the outline of your skin underneath and reached slightly past your hands. To be forced to wear this was … humiliating. 

When you stepped back into the large tent, the lights had been dimmed, and, wrapping your arms tighter around you, squeezing your hands around the muscles underneath your shoulder, you scanned the room. It seemed like time-itself stopped when you saw the harbinger standing there, his exposed back to you, hair falling around his shoulders and spread across the muscles which flexed as he moved. 

Your body seemed to react on its own, and even though you shouted in your mind, it seemed your heart didn’t get the message. Looking toward the entrance you wondered if you could move fast enough to escape, but just as quickly as the thought came it vanished the second he turned toward you. 

The flash of light that reflected in his eyes made you take a step backward. Something was unsettling about having him look at you and, even though you knew there wasn’t any place for you to go, you desperately looked for a way to escape. 

You felt his heat as if a warning, when he stopped in front of you it was so intense you couldn’t breathe. He reached toward your hair, gripping it between his fingers before pushing it behind you. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it moved across your shoulder, down the path of your arm until coming to rest at the spot just beneath your chest. 

“What are you doing?” You questioned, pushing him away with hot hands and even hotter skin. Your lungs felt shaky and heavy as you took in a deep breath to steady yourself, but your eyes were fierce and irritated. 

“This suits you very well. Is it comfortable?” 

“It’s not exactly something I would wear, but I don’t expect you to really care if I’m comfortable.” 

“Mmm, maybe not.” He smirked before turning and heading back to the bed.

Frustrated, you huff out your next words, “So, where am I supposed to sleep?” Gesturing with your hand you highlight the lack of extra spaces. 

“With me.” 

“Wh … you can’t be serious.” 

“I am.” 

“I’d rather sleep with a pack of wild dogs than next to you.” 

“Wild dogs bite, I don’t.” He looked at you with uninterested eyes, half-lidded and serious. You felt so exposed under those eyes. Biting the inside of your lip you turned away, looking over the tent for some sort of place to sleep that wasn’t next to him. 

“I’ll be just fine over here, thanks.” Walking toward the table and chairs, you begin to arrange them into a makeshift bed. It wasn’t going to be comfortable, but it was better than the alternative. You were so determined and focused to make this work that you didn’t notice the sigh of disapproval behind you, nor the footsteps that grew louder as they approached. 

Suddenly, you were lifted from the ground, your feet kicking and knocking into the chairs, a yelp escaping your mouth as you pushed against the arms that wrapped around your stomach. 

“Put me dow – ah!” The soft sheets of the bed blocked out the light as you were tossed face-first against it. With haste you turned over, the gown you were wearing riding up your legs as you did so and your heart pounding so hard in your chest you were sure it would fracture your ribs. Scrambling, you tried to get off the bed at the nearest place you could, but right as you reached the edge a hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled you back. 

You only remember breathing this hard when you first started to fight, and right now it felt like all those years of training and preparation had only been a dream, because you’d never felt so out of breath in years. 

“Wait!” You shouted, sensing the harbinger’s body hovering over you. He had pulled you back toward him and since he had to rest his knee on the bed to reach you, his torso towered over you, and hand pressed against the mattress while the other rested near your hips. His face was shadowed by the hair that fell around it and still, his eyes were as bright as ever.  You could feel how high up the fabric of your gown had gotten and, quickly, you pushed it down with desperate hands. “Hold on …” 

“I’m not going to do anything to you.” 

You were breathing so hard and all the blood in your veins was pulsing through you that you had a hard time understanding his words. He was so close to you and everything, every part of you was electrified to the point that it hurt. 

There was a noise and he turned his head, your eyes were locked on him but your body wouldn’t move, couldn’t move. With a sigh, he pushed himself away from you before walking toward the shirt which he tossed over one of the chalkboards and made his way toward the entrance of the tent. 

“Do try to get some sleep.” He called out to you, not taking a moment to look back before exiting the tent. Your heart still pounded in your chest, for how long you weren’t sure, but even when your legs were able to bend and hold your weight, when your body was able to shift and bring you into a sitting position, and even when you were able to make it over to the table and rested your head against it, your heart didn’t stop pounding. 

—

The dreams that filled your mind were pleasant, simple, and uncomplicated. Soft chirping filled the landscape of your perfect dreamland and slowly pulled you out of it. It seemed brighter than it should be, maybe you forgot to close the window to your cabin. For some reason, you were heavier than you should be. There was a strange weight against your waist and when you shifted, sliding your hand down to investigate you found there was an arm resting across you. 

Everything came flooding back and instinctually, you pushed yourself backward only to find something sturdy at your back. The arm wrapped tighter around you and trapped you flush against the body of its owner. 

You were confused, and the way your heart sped up and your breathing changed into fast, uneven movements you questioned how you got here. 

Didn’t I fall asleep at the table, how did I get into the bed, what was he doing here … when did … 

“Stop moving so much.” His voice was groggy, raspy, and deep and even though it was filled with the signs of sleep, you knew it was him. It was the Harbinger. 

“Let me go.” You pleaded, pushing against his arm, doing your best to lift it and get free, but each time he just tightened his grip and pulled you closer. When his nose grazed your neck and you felt his breath against your skin you nearly lost it. Frantically, you clawed your way free, moving so fast that you fell out of the bed. 

There was a groan behind you and you heard the sound of the bed shift, but you didn’t dare look around. Your face was burning, your shoulders shaking and legs unusable. There were thousands of thoughts running through your mind and one of them was ‘why am I reacting like this?’

Splashing water and other sounds gave you hints as to what he is doing but still, you didn’t turn around. Instead, you looked at the entrance again, your heart pounding and feet tingling. There was an urge, a screaming in your mind to run. Run and don’t stop, not even until your legs beg you or your lungs plead, just run. For a minute you let the thought fill you up and each time it rises higher you solidify it as the best viable option. 

Launching yourself up off the ground, palms slamming against the canvas and legs bending to help you stand. You took the first step but hear the threat ring like a bell in your mind. 

“If you ever try to run from me, I’ll burn everything you love to the ground.” 

The words shattered your resolve and left you standing, staring at the exit in utter defeat. The sound of footsteps alerted you to his closeness until you felt him brush past you. He was wearing a less lavish outfit than what you normally saw him in. Black pants and a dark black tunic, sleeves rolled up over his arms which put on display the many scars that cover them. It suits him, even if you hate that thought. 

“Good girl.” He hummed, lifting your chin. Angrily, you pull away from him and gazed at the ground. “I will have someone bring you a pair of clothes and a meal, for now, you’ll remain here. One of my operatives will be just outside if you need anything.” He reached for you again but didn’t make contact, instead his fingers curled back into themselves before dropping to his sides. “Do try to eat something.” 

He turned and, out of the corner of your eyes, you watched him disappear through the entrance of your prison. Cuts, scrapes, the tip of an arrow, falling out of a high tree, breaking your bone, breaking your heart, all of these pains you had experienced in your life, but nothing, nothing was as painful as the feeling of being trapped, caged and unable to feel the freedom of the world just beyond the flap of fabric. 

It wasn’t like you to let your emotions take control, you’d been trained to stay calm, to always keep a level head. “Emotional people die, logical people survive.” The words of your mentor echoed in your mind, but today, they seemed muted and far away as the pain seeped into your eyes. You were betrayed by everything, and so, with a heavy heart, you collapsed onto the bed which would never be yours and cried. 

–

Days went by like this. You were brought a multitude of clothes, gifts, and other lavish items which you never imagined you’d be able to touch, let alone see. Though it didn’t matter because all you wanted to be was outside. There were days when you nearly begged, more the guard who perpetually seemed to be there than the harbinger himself, but as soon as you made your way toward them your heart sank at the thought of begging a Fatui. 

So, you did nothing. 

He had provided you with books and other activities that would keep you busy, but it didn’t satiate anything. All you did was act complacent and plan your revenge. 

During the day you would listen to the movements outside, map the routes they took, and listen for the highs and lows of activity. You charted the interior of the tent in an effort to find a way, any way to escape. You planned, you waited, and when the time was right, you were going to act. 

The days were fine, in fact, you wished they could be longer because it was the nights that made you the most anxious. The thought of sleeping next to your enemy made your heart pound and stomach flip. You tried desperately to avoid it altogether, sometimes you’d hide in the corner, or even in the room you used to change. It never failed, no matter where you tried to fall asleep, in the morning you would wake up in his bed. 

When you woke up and the first thing you saw was his arm draped over you, his hand wrapped around your wrist, his face relaxed, and surrounded by his vibrant red hair you wondered why he wanted you. What could he possibly see in you that would make him steal you away from the life you knew, from the life you loved. You hated him for it and after days of waiting, days of preparing, you decided to enact your plan. 

He left while you pretended to be asleep, with eyes closed you felt him brush the hair from your face, and with steady breaths, you kept your body still. When his shuffling ended, you got up and readied yourself for the day. If everything turned out as it should, one of your meals would include a knife and, if you were sneaky enough, you’d be able to hide it inside of your sleeves. 

As the evening grew and you readied yourself for bed, this time you were going to be waiting for him. It was imperative he didn’t find the knife tucked under the pillow, and so, with determined will, you felt the soft fabric of the bedsheet run against the side of your hand as you gripped the metal knife and pretended to be asleep. 

You were used to waiting. If it was a part of your mission you would wait for hours; as long as the job got done, you would wait. 

He slipped into the space next to you, his body heat radiating toward your back. The owl’s call beckoned in the night as his breathing slowed and evened out. The wind pushing against the canvas tent reminded you that the world still moved on outside of this place, and that’s when you made your move. 

Quietly, slowly, you slid your hand out from under the pillow. The metal warmed substantially in your hand and felt almost hot, but you didn’t dare let it fall from your grip. You moved, twisting until you could see him, and when you pulled your knees up so you could rest on them, you prepared yourself to strike. 

He was laying on his back, and at this angle, all it would take was one quick stab downward to end it all. With that, the threat would be gone and you could run, run free, run far, but most of all, run. The tent was dark, but there were still lights that drifted in through the canvas. The moon must have been bright or your eyes had grown so adjusted to the blackness that it seemed like you could see him as clearly as if the sun were shining on his face. 

Looking down at him, you took him in. Each time you readied yourself to take his life, something in you stalled. His relaxed face seemed so peaceful, so different than the faces of other Fatui members you’d come across in your lifetime. His lips parted just a bit as he breathed, his arm rested against his stomach, rising and falling with each slow breath. 

You hated him, you did … but why was this so hard. Why couldn’t you just do it, just kill him! You shook, closed your eyes, and took a breath before readying yourself once again. Now!

As soon as you opened your eyes you were met with red, burning irises. The blood in your veins went cold and instinctually, you started to bring down the knife only to feel his scorching hands wrap around your wrists, his legs worked to flip you and before you knew it, he had you pinned beneath him. 

He straddled you, your arms locked above your head as he held your wrists together and supported his weight by placing his hand at the side of your head. Quickly, he worked to pry the knife from your fingers before throwing it behind him so hard it lodged itself into the back of one of the chairs. 

Your chest heaved and, even though you knew it was futile, you attempted to pull your arms out of his grip. The weight of his body was incredible, it pushed against your hips and pressed against the bones. It was an attempt to keep you in place, but the closeness of him was way too much. 

“That was stupid.” His voice was tense, seething, so much so, that you could feel the irritation seeping off of him. There was something so powerful about him, it was as if his aura shifted, and even though you were aware of what he was, having him hover over you, pin you beneath him seemed to set off every signal in your body. You let yourself believe that he was an ordinary man, but he was a Harbinger, and the intense position you found yourself in reminded you of that as he stared at you with those eyes. 

“What do I have to do to make you understand …” The owl’s cry sounded again and you felt your heart skip a beat. 

—

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