#signora

Moths and lepidopterist reader stuff, random arts.

A/N: These characters has no coorelation to one another, i just draw JY then just decided to draw random cgaracters as moth

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Art that started this:

when the female harbingers get sick, how did it happen and how do they react?

inspired by @rockingbytheseaside's one with the male harbingers here

dude I haven't written in too long I feel like all of them are super ooc kill me

Columbina

It was quiet in the Palace garden. Columbina sat on a bench, you laying on her shoulder as you nap.

Well, it was quiet.

"HaCHEW!"

The absurdly loud and violent sneeze that erupted from your beloved caused you to startle and almost fall off the bench... and then came another.

And another...

"Oh, dear... I'm sorry for waking you."

Columbina sniffles and rubs her eyes.

Columbina had caught a cold, unsurprisingly from her unsuited clothes for the cold of Snezhnaya.

Now, as you sit next to her, Columbina has turned into a burrito inside several Fatui coats, her hands that hold a mug of tea sticking out and slightly pink from the breeze.

"No need to apologise, Columbina. How are you going?"

This seemed to be her first experience with sickness.

"I find the stuffiness in my nose uncomfortable. And, my voice sounds strange."

Columbina sniffs and sneezes again.

It was true, Sandrone had been spared the Columbina alarm clock in the mornings as she was unable to sing.

"Don't worry, it will only last a few more days."

You smile and lay back against her.

"Hm... as long as you sing to me instead."

Arlecchino

It seemed like all that running around in the rain on a mission or something had caught up to her.

It was amusing, seeing Arlecchino bark at the youngest children to not play in the rain, with her being sick herself.

"This is quite inconvenient. I had planned on meeting the Iudex of Fontaine to discuss..."

You softly shushed her with a finger to her lips.

"You need a break. I'll make you a hot chocolate, stay right here."

A couple children tug on your sleeve with shining eyes.

"cough, cough... I think I'm sick too!" One declares with a hand over their mouth.

"I'm so cold after being in the rain... May I have a hot chocolate too?" Another pleads.

You and Arlecchino chuckle.

"Yes, yes. Now get yourself dried off before you actually catch a cold!"

"And don't track mud on the carpet!"

Arlecchino leans back into her chair, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

"They shouldn't see me like this. I can work fine in this state." She frowns.

"See you like what? Weak? And I swear to the Archons Arlecchino if you talk about work one more time, I will send a letter to the Tsaritsa requesting sick leave."

Sandrone

You always wondered if a robot like her could get sick, or the equivalent.

Now, you know.

"Sandrone, please lie down while I fix it."

You reach out, exasperated as she dodges your attempts to grab her.

"I a perfectly capable of removing water from my inner systems myself, thank you very much."

She snaps back at you.

"I have far too much work planned to take a break to fix something that isn't a problem!"

However, her declarations are very much contrasted with the stiff way her limbs move, and the sparks flying from the open panel in her back...

oh my Archons, are those sparks?!?

"Sandrone, get back here! There are sparks coming off from you!"

"And I insist, my body is incapable of falling apart from such a simple-"

She falls over.

Contrary to what you both believed, it seems like this will take far longer than a few minutes to fix. Water has somehow leaked into all parts of Sandrone's internal workings, and you need to remove it fast before it actually does any damage.

"Sit still."

If she will cooperate...

Signora

Signora is no stranger to fever, with her powers as the Crimson Witch of Flames bringing its own repercussions.

After what you call overusing her powers, and what Signora calls teaching someone a lesson, you had arrived to a slightly scorched bedchamber. (Hopefully the Tsaritsa won't mind.)

You scan the room, and spot Signora kneeling on the ground behind the bed, and you rush over.

"Signora, are you alright? Did you..." You sigh, touching her hand and feeling her scalding skin. "Come on, let's get you into the bed."

As always, Signora is overcome with a heavy silence, and you try hard not to wish you had been her first love as her eyes search for someone long deceased.

After removing her thick snow coat and tucking her into the bed, you wet a cloth and wipe the sweat from her face before laying it on her forehead.

You're starting to feel the heat too now, and you discard your own coat, highly aware of the little flaming moths now forming in the room.

"Signora, please avoid setting the room on fire-"

You gasp, cut off by a tight grip on your hand adjusting the cloth on her forehead. Signora looks at you through heat-dazed grief, but the moths disappear.

Her mouth opens, and you look away, already anticipating the name that will fall from her lips.

But, as you feel her warm fingers trace circles onto your palm, you instead hear your own name, called out in the midst of her stupor.