#i am my mother’s child | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

florallylly · 5 months

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i've seen model steve harrington aus. i've seen child steve harrington aus. i present: child model steve harrington

note: this came from my own desperate need to see this conceptualized and i SWEAR i've searched, i just can't find any content with child model steve so. :(

bc little steve harrington was remarkably cherub-like. his large brown eyes and soft pout ensured endless cooing and fussing from his mom's friends. and when he blushed and ducked his head in shyness, they only complimented him more. when he got home that day, his mom smiled at him.

so steve decided that he would put up with the cheek pinching and the squealing. he sat upright in his chair, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't fidget and ruin the image. because he'd do anything to keep his mom smiling at him. if he was being particularly good that day, she'd let him lay his head on her lap on the drive back home.

but everything changed at his father's birthday gala. a nearly eight year old steve harrington sat prim and proper in his seat, but a smile lit up his face--his cheeks round and his dimples showing up. he raised his hand up to cover his giggle, but he couldn't help but laugh at some silly old man with a loose toupee. then he sees his mom approaching, and his face quickly smooths over, going back to the more polite smile he usually adopted when it came to these events.

he'd ruined it. he hadn't continued being the sweet boy his mom wanted. but then, she smiles at him. and introduces him to the man behind her, who says he's a designer. the man holds out his hand, but when steve puts his hand into his palm, he doesn't shake it. the man simply holds his hand, his eyes scanning steve's face. steve tries not to squirm under the attention. but the man nods and smiles at his mom, and he gives two brief cheek kisses to steve, whispering in his ear "you're going to be a star, darling." steve looks at his mom, confused, but she waves him off to continue talking to the man.

a few months later, steve's mom whisks him off on a trip to france. and steve is so excited to go, nearly vibrating in his seat as the airplane prepares to take off. but instead of the eiffel tower and the seine, steve is taken to a studio. he's posed and changed. once again, he's being fussed over, but instead of wealthy socialites, gossiping make-up artists squeal over him. he's "perfect for the shoot" and "the most darling little boy." steve doesn't understand, but his mom is still smiling, so he lets the nice ladies brush powder over his face.

and he looks in the mirror. his hair is a little more tousled and his lips have a slight tint to them and his eyes seem to take up much of his face. he's put into new clothes, and he feels like a doll in their hands. and when he's put in front of the camera, he simply follows the photographer's directions. afterwards, he's bundled into the car and his mom can't stop gushing about how good he was.

apparently, he's a natural. and then she goes back to fussing over him, focusing more on appearance than his behavior now. but she takes him out shopping and they eat at an upscale restaurant along the champs-elysses. and steve is happy.

and then they go back home, and his mom is so much stricter than before. she has him try out all kinds of different hair products, determined to find the best combination to keep it looking shiny and soft. she controls his food intake and what he wears and makes him use weird creams and serums on his face. but this is what makes his mom happy, so he's happy to let her.

his mom is also on the phone a lot more lately, whispering harshly about the quality of brands and steve just assumes she's being picky about the clothes she buys. later, his mom picks him up and holds him, and asks if he'd like to move to italy. she looks at him intently and it's obvious what answer she wants, so steve nods. she smiles and holds him close, and it's the most loved steve has felt in a while.

so they move to italy, and suddenly steve is a lot more busy. he's put in front of more cameras for more people he doesn't know. but he's smiling and pouting and doing whatever they want him to do. his compliant attitude and polite nature have photographers and designers alike singing his praises, and steve always looks to his mom for approval. but she's been arguing with his dad a lot lately, so she's upset more often than not. but that's okay, the make-up artists are always kind to him.

but then one day, his mom takes a phone call in the middle of the shoot. and when it finishes, she's gone. steve goes back in, close to tears, but the make-up artists still hanging around look after him until a car is sent to pick him up. this becomes a trend. and eventually, steve goes alone to his shoots. he's always taken care of by the crew and someone is always there to pick him up, but it's not fun without his mom there.

but he knows that she's always enjoyed him taking pictures, so he continues to do so, hoping that she'll come watch him again sometime soon. and he busies himself with befriending the chatty make-up artists and the bossy photographers and the eccentric designers. and he's such a cute little thing that they can't help but dote on him.

steve is never catapulted into child stardom, as his mom is picky with his jobs, only choosing luxury brands and well known designers for him. but within the industry, they call him the "little prince."

and then steve is catapulted into puberty, but his intense skin regimen prevents him from getting acne, save for the occasional zit. and his diet and religious exercise schedule help maintain his look. and he's still doing remarkably well, especially now that he's fully aware that he is a Model.

and steve has truly grown into his looks. with time, he's grown more comfortable in front of the camera and made numerous friends. nearly all of them are older than him, but they're fun and loud and it fills up the space that normally surrounds him. and they're the ones who get him hooked on american movies. steve remembers living in america, but he's been in milan so long that everything he recalls is vague.

but he watches them and falls in love with the american high school experience. so when he finally catches his mom off the phone and actually in the house, steve asks if he can go to school in america. and his mom laughs. but steve keeps asking, which devolves into begging. and his mother snaps, slapping him across the face and calling him ungrateful. she cries and begs for forgiveness, cowed into shame by steve's desperate attempt to hold back tears.

and so she lets him go to school in hawkins, indiana. an odd choice, but his parents just so happened to own a property there. (in truth, both of his parents expected him to change his mind within the year). but steve finds his place at hawkins high, because even though nobody in hawkins has ever heard of versace, steve is pretty. he's pretty and charming and he knows the right thing to say. after all, he's spent his whole life perfecting his mask.

and even if his mom ended up moving back home with his dad, leaving steve all alone in that big empty house, steve is happy. he's finally hanging out with people his age and high school is so far removed from the glitz and glam of the fashion industry. and he's settled and content with tommy and carol by his side. while he misses his friends back in milan, steve finds himself longing for the clothes more often. hawkins was certainly the opposite of milan, what with the nearest mall being two hours away and only equipped with a macy's and jcpenny.

through it all, steve is determined to be normal. he laughs along with jokes he doesn't quite get and rolls his eyes at carol's cue, and he joins the swim team. and he joins the basketball team. and he goes to parties and kisses girls and wears dumb little polos with his letterman jacket and does everything that he saw in the movies.

but nancy wheeler is different. steve can't forget his time in italy and who he is and was, and he's reminded of his old life in everyone and everything in hawkins. but not nancy wheeler. she's all hawkins and all his. and then the upside down happens.

and then nancy wheeler breaks his heart.

even after three years, his parents continue to ask when he'll go back to modeling, but he's different now. the upside down and billy hargrove beat that starry eyed little kid who thrived in the spotlight. and nancy wheeler proved that adoration and love is fleeting, so what would even be the point of trying anymore? his dad was a little more approving of steve's retirement/hiatus, saying that steve must want to go to college so he can take over the family business.

but when steve doesn't get into college, he's once again badgered by his mom to go back. but he's grown and changed and he's not sure that he can pretend anymore, so he says no. and they cut him off. enter: scoops era.

the measly scoops salary is not nearly enough to cover all of the new bills and expenses steve has, but he's not willing to leave hawkins. so he reaches out to his friends back in italy, and they refer him to their american connections. steve doesn't model at the same level as before, but he poses for a couple of zines and one artist who got a little too handsy at his exhibition. but he's able to make it through until the mall blows up.

this routine continues and he starts working at family video with robin at his side, but he keeps his side job a secret from the kids, using the excuse of visiting his parents to leave town for his shoots. he's not ashamed, but he knows he wouldn't "be normal" anymore if they found out.

but how does he explain his near mental breakdown at the sight of his healing demobat scars. they're raised and ugly, ruining what should have been a perfect body. and even though he uses scar cream everyday, they refuse to fade away completely. and how could anyone stand to be near such an ugly thing when all his life, steve was meant to be pretty? after all, love and adoration is fleeting.

#steve harrington #give me grace i literally do not know how to verbalize all of my thoughts about this #child model au #imagining them finding out bc jonathan or will was interested in some photography art exhibition and steve is literally the centerpiece #everyone FREAKING OUT #robin knew bc OFC robin knew #steve feeling too self conscious to keep his old ads but he knows his mom keeps a record in her office #dustin screaming crying punching the wall YOUVE BEEN FAMOUS THIS WHOLE TIME... AND DIDNT TELL ME....#mike wheeler feeling ill bc is steve actually kind of cool....#italian steve harrington #because OF COURSE italian steve harrington #eddie munson asking steve if he'd ever consider doing playboy #steve going into a very serious answer about his career projection and actually that's an insult eddie. do u know who i am #and eddie is like yeah ur the centerfold in my heart baby #and then steve gets it #to be so clear. steve's mom DOES love him but she's also extremely selfish #that's why she feels bad when she slaps him and concedes to his request #but once she gets over the initial guilt she's like but he was a STAR i was the mother of a STAR

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chocoenvy · 1 year

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Hi there! I love your mommy Signora post, but ofc I love all the mommy fics hehe💕

But what happens in the day to day life with mommy Signora once reader got over the shock a lil bit?

I headcannon that maybe Signora can bring them around the palace and feed them Snezhnayan food? Maybe find out they have a fav and would have some as back up in case.

And maybe little creator would be angry at anyone who talks bad about her fire moth mama?

Keep note that you don't have to do this if you're too busy okay? Stay hydrated and rest well💕

hi im sad rn so i have to project apologies for making you hurt in advance <3

Child of Fire, Raised in Ice

warnings: fluff with an angst ending, sagau, a child (that is ten but turns 11-12 throughout this) is considered god, mild blood, death

6,115 words

There was no separating you and your mama. Ever since the day she had found you in the snow, held you with such tenderness. Despite being considered a "big kid", you still imprinted onto her like you were a young child. Growing by her side, soon enough in your pre-teen years.

Still, you stuck by her side. No matter how old you got.

This was a side of Teyvat you had never dreamed of seeing. Each of the harbingers, in all their horror and glory, and a new ideal against the gods. Signora, who you thought was so bad and evil, was now your hero.

Was this brainwashing? Were you too young and naïve to understand fully what was happening? Maybe, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that you were safe. Signora was safe.

All the harbingers found it odd, Signora's behavior. How she didn't ask for anything from you in return, and yet your young mind already had an understand of give and take - of goods and services - was eager to please her.

"I can help!" "Do you need me to help?" A smaller hand holding onto her coat, you were basically her shadow. But you were desperate to be helpful.

Signora was scared to let you go alone, despite your exalted status, there were those that would hurt you to spite her, and those with a hatred for gods that extended beyond reason. Despite her insistence she had no earthly attachments to you - that this was merely business - she would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to you.

But she wouldn't be by your side forever. So slowly but surely, she helped you grow. To no longer rely so heavily on her.

Running errands to Childe first, who always had a soft spot for kids. He became your friend quickly, your brother. A familiar and friendly face to go to when you didn't have Signora. Next was Arlecchino, brash and sadistic, but had a calm façade. You grew close with her at a slower rate, but eventually caught yourself growing fonder of her. Asking to visit the orphanage, making care packages for the kids, playing with those your own age.

Signora watched you grow physically and mentally with a fond smile. One that no one had seen in centuries.

You became quite famous in the Zapolyarny palace quite quickly. Going from being always a step behind Signora, to always a step ahead of her. Sometimes even running ahead to greet someone you knew - such as flinging yourself into Capitano who merely gently patted your head. Or excitedly shouting something to Pierro, always eager to see his nod of approval when you've done something worthy. You'd always seen Signora give reports to him, so you attempted to keep your conversations the same as that. You failed miserably, but it was funny to see you talk so formally and informally at the same time and tacking "sir" onto the end of all of your sentences. Until one day he finally caved and told you to just call him Pierro.

Despite your image of Signora changing drastically from what you used to think of her, Dottore never really changed in your mind. His smile freaked you out, almost like if you got too close he'd snatch you up and tear you apart. Like the magic tricks you'd see of people being torn apart, but you didn't think he'd be able to - or want - to fix you.

You thought your wariness was warranted. Which caught the attention of The Damsel.

Oddly, you were never afraid of Pierro. He reminded you of the nice old men that were from your old home, and despite everything, when you got close to him, he smelled like one of your male family members. He reminded you of home.

However The Damsel was the opposite. She smelled of nothing but the ice cold tundra, she appeared sickly, weak, but her voice was powerful.

Her first words to you were, "You think the Doctor is so frightening? What has he done to you so far?"

You couldn't see her eyes, but her voice sounded as though she was awaiting a grand story, an utterly horrid story, like she wanted to tear you apart and see the deepest and darkest parts of you.

"He-he's scary looking," You pouted, distressed.

A dainty giggle danced in the air, and the sound made you relaxed against your better judgement.

"Am I scary looking?" She leaned down a bit, the height difference not being that much, but it felt like she was towering over you.

You blinked, throat tightening and mouth flapping open and closed. You felt Signora's hand touch your upper arm before the words tumbled out of your mouth, "A wendigo." You realized what you just said and fumbled to fix your mistake, "A pretty wendigo! Wait-! Uh-!"

Even Signora snickered at the comment. The Damsel giggled, "Perhaps you're not far off from the mark. Call me Columbina. A child of Signora's is a child I shall protect."

Suddenly, Dottore didn't seem as scary anymore.

You were slowly but surely becoming more and more independent as the months passed, almost seeming like you were a mini-harbinger with how often you hung around them. Everyone was still aware of your "godhood" but that was overshadowed with over half a year of you being at the palace. Over half a year after Signora had saved you.

"Fair Lady, your grace." One of Signora's personal servants entered Signora's study, where the two of you were sorting through important paperwork and writing reports to officials, townsfolk, and the Tsartisa herself.

Signora nodded for her to speak.

"The Tsaritsa has requested their grace's presence."

Those words sent a shiver up your spine, you glanced nervously at Signora but her face was completely neutral.

"Thank you, we'll be on our way immediately." Signora stood from her chair and the servant scurried off.

"Signora-"

"You'll be okay." Her smile was so uncharacteristically warm. A smile that melted away the snow, a smile that saved you when you were dying in the cold.

You opened your mouth to say something doubtful, to argue or protest, but you didn't, "...okay..."

She grabbed your hand in hers, and it was warm, and she led you to the Tsaritsa. To the heart of the palace, a place you had never been.

Signora had told you a handful of times that the Tsarist was aware of your presence in the palace and condoned it. That when you had passed out in her arms after she had saved you, the Tsaritsa herself had made sure you had healed at your bedside.

You didn't ask why, throat closed up and mouth dry. You never questioned why. Signora was safe, she'd tell you all you needed to know, and what you didn't need to know... was fine by you.

"Here," Signora slipped her hand out of yours, pushing you forwards towards a staggeringly tall door, "I will be right here-"

"Why can't you come with me?" You looked up at her with wide fearful eyes, barely managing a shaky breath in and out.

Signora's eyes softened, a sight you and one other lost to the snow has seen, her hand on your shoulder tightened and she lowered herself to your level, "The Tsaritsa has not requested me, remember we are living in her palace, in her land. She would never put you in danger, and neither would I." She cupped your face and lifted your wandering eyes to hers, "You believe me, right?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

She patted your cheek, "Good." A rare moment of fondness, she pressed her lips to your forehead softly, "Now go, don't keep her Majesty waiting too long."

You nodded, Signora's gentle and warm touch leaving your form. The cold surrounded you as you pressed your palm to the handle of the door. The cold spread throughout your veins, freezing your lungs and heart.

You used all your might to push the heavy door open, squeezing past it. It shut with a thud behind you.

You kept your eyes on the ground, barely wandering to fully take in the room.

You could feel her Majesty's presence, but you'd never formally met her before. How were you supposed to greet her? Were you supposed to greet her? What titles should you use? She was far scarier than any of the harbingers, you couldn't tell if your limbs were shaking from the cold or pure fear.

"Raise your head, child." A deep, baritone voice came from the throne, jostling you out of your frozen state.

You followed her command immediately, raising your head to meet her eyes- were covered. Her eyes were covered.

Her height was staggering as well, she must've towered over everyone in the palace including the harbingers. Her throne was completely made out of ice too, everything in the room as well. If you weren't careful, you'd slip and fall.

On her stoic face, the ghost of a smile played at her lips.

She stood from her throne, a grand and intricate dress falling gracefully behind her as she made her for you.

You could feel each step in your chest, the dread building up. You bit your tongue to stop tears from welling in your eyes.

She gracefully swooped into a kneel and grabbed your hand with surprising gentleness. Her hand, despite bearing a glove, was ice cold and pulsated with power.

It made you dizzy, the pure cryo energy in one human body and the power of three gnosis in her possession.

"It's an honor to formally meet you, your grace." Her deep voice reverberated in your head.

You stumbled on your words, "Y-y-y-you too your majesty." You squeaked.

She chuckled, "No need to be so formal, you've lived in my palace for quite some time now, haven't you. I know you well."

"You've been... watching..?" The question slowly died on your throat as you realized the absurdity of it. You were in her palace, her home territory. Of course she'd be watching you.

"I have. Everything that goes on in my home I am aware of. Not only in the palace, but in the whole of Snezhnaya." She answered with a smile, one that seemed oddly sinister, "There are many things I wish to tell you, many questions I believe you have. Those will all be answered in due time, you are still far too young for all of these dealings." Her hand slipped away from yours and you felt the blood flow resume - you hadn't even noticed it had slowed.

"First," An intricate box materialized itself in her hand, the same way the Traveler's weapon would appear and disappear on command, "I want you to know, your grace, that these are yours." She opened the box and you gasped, nearly tripping on the ice in your shock, "I have gathered two of the other archons' gnosis as well as my own, and soon to be all seven, all to give to you. I understand that this must be overwhelming which is why I don't expect you to accept or take them." Her smile grew and you swore you saw fangs peak out, "I merely want you to know that these are here for you, all you must do is call for them and they shall be yours."

"Why-?" You choked out, shock grasping at your throat, "You've worked so hard-"

"That is something that you must find out on your own." She closed the box, her smile ever present, "Snezhnaya has no room for tears and childhood, you've had to grow up faster than you could've ever imagined. I will give you some more time, but when you feel that spark of childhood extinguish, come to me."

"H-h-" The world spun, "H-How will I know?"

"You just will." The box disappeared from her hands, and in the same place Signora had left a warm and gentle kiss on your forehead, The Tsaritsa had done the same, chasing away whatever warmth lay on or underneath your skin. "Goodbye, child, it was wonderful meeting you."

You nodded, "You as well."

You scurried out the door, and just as she had promised; Signora was there.

Signora noticed the difference your meeting with the Tsaritsa had made immediately. You were shaken, your eyes had the beginnings of the frozen tundra in them.

Signora knew she wouldn't be able to preserve the warmth of your innocence and childhood forever, and it seems the threads of the Tsaritsa's grand plan were making themselves seen.

However, you still melted into her touch, smiling so widely when you saw her. Even with your ever-growing independence, you made sure to always stick next to her. You were never out of her sight, and that childish smile still remained when you saw her, or Childe, or Capitano, Pulcinella, Pierro, even Arlecchino, Columbina and Dottore got to see your childish smile. You were happy, and that was all Signora could ask for.

"Signora! Signora!" Your childish voice resounded through the halls.

"Yes, yes I'm right here dear, what is it?"

"Look!" You held out your hands to her, they were cupped together and on top of them rested a pyro moth.

Signora's eyes widened in shock, "Where did this come from?" There was no way you'd know these belonged to her, she had only ever used her cryo powers around you. Except-

"I don't know! It just kinda showed up, I think it likes me!" You smiled ear-to-ear, "It kinda reminds me of you, it's the same warmth I felt when you found me, you know?"

Signora hummed, her gloved hand coming up to lightly touch the wing of the moth, "I see." She smiled warmly, "Well, since it likes you so much, make sure to take good care of it."

You nodded enthusiastically.

Signora seemed to have been unaware of how close she had gotten to you. She knew her moth only had one objective: to watch over you.

Perhaps it was a good thing.

"What do you mean?!" You screeched, the moth that had shown up just a few days before fluttering distressed at your shoulder, "You're going away?" You whined, clutching onto her dress, "Why are you just telling me-?"

"(Y/n)." You froze at the use of your name, "You are still aware of the fact that I am a harbinger, this was going to happen eventually, I have a duty to the Tsaritsa and Snezhnaya. I must go, you know this. Everything has been set up, all that's left is for me to grab the gnosis and come right back. You understand."

It wasn't a question, and it wasn't a statement you would argue. You nodded miserably, stray tears falling down your cheeks.

Signora sighed, "Please don't cry." Her hands cupped your face and wiped away the fallen tears, "The other Fatui have taken care of most of the work, it will be quick and I'll come right back. You can be a big kid for a month can't you?" She smiled encouragingly

You sniffled and nodded, "I- I think so."

"Good, thank you, (Y/n). And if you don't think you can be a big kid there's always Childe and Columbina and the other harbingers." Signora smiled, "You can visit the orphanage with Arlecchino, do whatever you want. So long as you stay safe and keep Little Ayin with you. Understand?"

"Yes Signora!" You saluted like one of the Fatui underlings, Little Ayin fluttering encouragingly around you.

"Good!" She patted your head, "Now come on, you can follow me to the boat but you can't come with me."

You grinned, holding her hand and leading the way to the front doors of the palace, "Don't worry! One day I'll become a harbinger and be able to come with you to all of your missions!"

"Really? Will you be the 12th harbinger?" Signora asked ammused.

"Nope! I'll be first!"

"And what of Pierro?"

"He'll be retired. He already has back problems."

Signora snorted, "Don't be saying things like that so boldly, you might make an enemy of Pierro." She ruffled your hair playfully.

It didn't take long enough to reach the boat. You squeezed her hand, almost silently begging her to not go.

"I'll see you soon, (Y/n)." Signora smiled.

You flung yourself into her arms, "See you soon!" You pulled back with a grin, barely managing to hold back the tears.

Signora softly smiled, grasping your hands in hers. You felt her place a solid and cold object in your hands. She closed your hands together and patted them, "I'll be back in a month. Make sure not to cause the others too much grief."

You grinned, "No promises!"

She nodded and pulled away, you stopped yourself from chasing her warmth. She boarded the ship and you watched as they prepared for travel. You stood there the entire time as they prepared to leave, and then followed the boat as far as you could until they were too far at sea. Not for a second did you stop waving at Signora until the boat was out of view. Your hand fell to your side slowly but definitively.

"(Y/n)."

You swallowed down the tears and turned to grin at Arlecchino, "Yes. We should go home."

Arlecchino nodded, walking beside you.

You kept your hand next to Little Ayin, the other grasping whatever item Signora had entrusted to you.

"You look miserable." Arlecchino commented, "Come with me to the orphanage, it's been a while since your last visit."

You glanced up at her, and nodded, smiling softly, "Sure. Just- once we get there do you think I could have a moment to myself?"

Arlecchino gave you an undecipherable look, "Of course, (Y/n)."

Once at the orphanage, all the kids who you had grown close to over the past year swarmed you.

But just as she had promised, you were allowed a moment to yourself alone.

You took the item from your pocket and inspected it.

It was a locket. You stared at it, dumbfounded, your confusion doubling at the clearly Mondstadt design of the locket.

You opened the locket and a folded piece of paper fell out. However the picture in the locket was... Signora? And a man?

"Who..." You diverted your attention to the small piece of paper, unfolding it to read the message, "Dear (Y/n), I'm sorry for never having the strength to explain to you in person. Ask Pierro about the locket. I shall tell you more once I am back. -Signora"

You stared dumbfounded at the piece of paper and locket you now had in your hands. Was this even Signora? Maybe it was a family member of hers? But why would she give this to you-?

"(Y/n)?" There was a knock on the door, "The children are getting impatient."

"Oops! Coming!" You turned around and rushed through the door, past Arlecchino.

Immediately a genuine smile tugged at your lips as you spend the day at the orphanage, with those you could almost call your family.

You couldn't sleep in the orphanage. You and the kids had played for hours on end, a distraction from Signora's absence. However you refused to sleep there. No matter how inconvenient or spoiled and bratty you sounded.

Thankfully, after some pushing, Arlecchino relented and took you back to the palace even though it was well after midnight.

Being in an orphanage and staying there after Signora had left... you couldn't do it. Not after you had been ripped away from your other family.

"You know, I'm starting to really hate agreeing to babysitting duty." Arlecchino huffed, grimacing.

You snickered, "Did Signora ask you to babysit me?"

She sighed, "Not explicitly, but she did enough passive aggressive hints for me to get the message."

You giggled at the mental image, "Well you won't have to worry about me tomorrow, I have plans in mind to bother another Fatui member." You grinned sadistically, a grin you've seen on Arlecchino before.

"May the Tsaritsa help their soul then."

You hunted down Pierro as quickly as you could the next day, following him around like a lost duck.

"Is there something you need?" He asked gruffly.

"Yes, but it'd take up a lot of your time."

He sighed, "Is it important?"

"Yes." You stared up at him with wide, child-like, yet gravely serious eyes.

His visible eye searched yours for a moment, as if noticing something that wasn't there before. Maybe there was.

Pierro nodded, "Alright then, come with me."

He turned and briskly walked towards his office, you scurried after him, gently holding onto his coat so you could keep up with him.

The locket and note were held in your pocket, and Little Ayin was snuggled against your neck comfortably. Signora was still, in a way, with you. She'd come back in a month, and you'd be here waiting for her. You'd be able to ask all the questions you want about the locket and the couple in it.

He opened the door to his office and held the door open to allow you inside, "Go ahead and have a seat." He shut the door and sat opposite of you. With a rough sigh, he said, "So, what is it that you need to tell me?"

You pulled the note and locket out of your pocket, laying it on the table in front of you.

"Signora gave this to me before she had left." You looked up at him, searching his expression.

For a moment, confusion and shock made his eyebrows furrow, before they became neutral. Almost as though he had expected this.

"I see." She gently grabbed the note and read it, nodding to himself.

Opening the locket, he turned it so it faced you, the couple staring at you. The woman's smile one you had seen before.

"This was 500 years ago. The woman is Signora, and the man beside her was her husband, Rostam."

"Husband?" You sputtered, Little Ayin resting on your shoulder solemnly, "She has... why did she never tell me?"

"Because he is no longer with us." Pierro said, his eyes meeting your steadily, like he was telling a story that had already been finished. "He was once a Knight of Favonius, and after the calamity of Khaenri’ah the Knights were tasked with purging the monsters that had emerged. Here, Rostam had died. Signora had been at the Akademiya in Sumeru studying while he had died, and when she returned to find him dead she went insane. Swearing to burn away the world and cleanse it."

You remained silent, staring at the picture of such a happy couple. Unsure of what you should be feeling.

"I believe," He said carefully, but retaining all the power in his voice, "That she hesitated on telling you because of how much it hurt her. I never expected her to tell you at all." His hand gently came up to pat the top of your head, and you didn't realize all the tears that were falling onto your lap. "Rostam was Signora's family. The only one she had. I believe she sees you the same way now."

You screwed your eyes shut and curled in on yourself, sobbing into your hands.

"I-I want her back!" You wailed, "I don't- don't want her leaving." You hiccupped, "I miss my old family, she's-she's all I have."

"She'll return." Pierro said so assuredly that you couldn't help but believe him, "You must have faith in her. She's captured two gnosis successfully. She will return with one more. Trust me when I say this is just as painful for her as it is you."

You nodded, sniffling. Reminding yourself over and over that she would return.

The first night on the ship, Signora had cried. She cried like she had just lost someone, cried like her first night in the Akademiya. Like she was alone for the first time in a long time.

It was the longest and hardest month she'd had in centuries. It was foolish - stupid of her to get so close to you. She feared that history had a habit of repeating itself, and she was petrified for the latter half of her history repeating.

But you were in the Zapolyarny Palace, under the protection of the Tsaritsa and the harbingers. T here was no way you would be hurt while under Her Majesty's care.

But her subordinates could see her stress, how she was snappier and any semblance of leniency she had shown in their homeland had evaporated. She chalked it up to this being an important mission, the most important one since last year when she and Childe obtained the Geo Gnosis. Of course, any leniency allowed by her could put the whole mission in jeopardy.

She'd get this mission finished with soon. At this point all that was left was to take the damn thing and go home.

"Filthy rats... all of you!"

She was desperate, insane, a witch.

All the heartbreak she went through after she lost Rostam, the pain and fear you felt when you awoke in this world to never see your family again, you would not feel it again. She had to go back to Snezhnaya, she had to go back to you-!

In the end, she did make it back to Snezhnaya. In a casket.

"Pierro! Pierro! She's here! She's here!" You squealed, bounding out of the palace.

"(Y/n)..." You were too excited to notice his odd tone, "Slow down."

From the day he had told you of Signora's past, you kept the locket around your neck. Even if you never knew Rostam, if he made Signora happy then he had your approval.

"Come on, Little Ayin! Why are you so slow?" You gently but hurriedly scooped the strangely forlorn fire moth into your hands. "I thought you'd be more excited for Signora's return." You giggled, running through the snow even before the sun had begun to rise, Pierro following slowly behind.

You waited at the dock, "How long will it take for them to be here?" You questioned Pierro, staring up at him with wide and excited eyes.

Pierro watched the child-like nature flutter with hope in your eyes. He sighed, "The report said they'd be here by sunrise."

"How long until sunrise?" You bounced on your tippy-toes, stretching your neck to see as far out into the ocean as you could.

"Far too long, child, it's 3 in the morning." He patted your shoulder hardily, "And you've been up since midnight."

"I just can't wait!" You grinned.

Oh how Pierro was dreading the morning sun.

Quite a few Fatui were gathered around the docks, and of course, you were the first to spot the boat carrying Signora.

"There! That's her! That's her!" You screeched, pointing at the boat.

But no one cheered.

You didn't think to question it, Pierro having to hold you back from sprinting up the plank laid down from the boat to the dock.

You saw ginger hair and a red scarf at the top of the plank.

"Childe? What's he-?"

You felt your heart drop to your feet and then somehow tumbling even further away from your grasp. Your stomach churned and twisted. You wanted to throw up and cry out your insides.

Childe didn't smile at you when his eyes met you, as he led a group of people carrying a human-sized box off of the ship.

You broke away from Pierro's grasp, hitting his hand away from you when he reached for you.

"(Y/n)-!" He barked after you sternly.

"Childe!" You crashed into his front, holding onto the front of his shirt even though he towered above you, "Where is she?"

His eyes somehow managed to look even more dead, hope chased away long ago.

Fear grappled your heart, stopping it's beating entirely. You shook him, your voice raising dangerously, "Where is she Tartaglia!"

He shakily inhaled, pity in his dark blue orbs, an ocean swallowing you in the beginnings of grief. He closed his eyes and turned his head to look at the box that was being carried by six Fatui.

"There."

"..."

There was silence, quieter than the deathly snow at night, waiting for its next victim. Your limbs and organs stopped working, halting their movements to stare at the box.

"Stop lying." You whispered.

"I'm not-"

"She's not!" You choked, shaking Tartaglia desperately, "You're lying!"

"(Y/n)." A firm hand gripped your shoulder, Pierro softly yet firmly said, "Please-"

"Did you know?!" You whipped around to face him, eyes wide and pupils pinpricks, breathing erratic - angry - and tears falling furious from your eyes.

"... yes. We got a report-"

"Why didn't you tell me!" You screeched, pushing him away from you and backing away, your hands clenched as fists at your side.

Pierro lowered his hand with a frown, "Because we knew you wouldn't believe us and that you'd react like this."

"She's not- she can't be- she's still in Inazuma you just left her behind. You- you-" You choked on your words and sobs, crying into your sleeves.

You clutched Little Ayin to your chest, its warmth the only comfort.

Without even realizing it, you were running, your name being shouted from behind you before stopping. But you kept running. And running.

And running.

You were once again lost in the tundra, snow billowing past. Except now you were accustomed to it, and attuned to the world in a way you nor anyone else could begin to imagine.

However one thing remained the same. You had lost your home. Your family. Once again, it had happened.

You fell into the snow, curling into a pathetic, sobbing ball. Crying into your arms and knees and hands until you couldn't feel your body. Everything was numb, even your heart and mind.

There was no point, no reason, no rhyme or love or life.

You wailed into the snow, into the tundra and wild of Snezhnaya. You screamed and cried like a wounded animal, begging and screaming for someone to bring Signora back. To bring your family back.

Your prayers were only slightly listened to. A warmth floated by your ear and you jerked away. You were laying on your stomach, face numb in the snow, until Little Ayin encouraged you to roll onto your back as it laid on your chest. Right where your heart was beating erratically.

It brought warmth throughout your chest and your raised your hands to gently hold it. Your wails and sobs turning into pitiful sniffles and whimpers. It was as though a limb had been torn off you and you were desperately trying to convince yourself you could reattach it. That you'd still have it good as new.

That Signora would come back. She'd come back she promised she promised, they all promised, she'll come back one day.

You gulped in breathes of cold air, stabilizing yourself in the warmth you pretended was Signora's hand. When suddenly the temperature dropped even more. Your tears turned into icicles after they fell, your entire body numb.

You didn't even move your eyes when you saw a pair of hands come up to wipe at your face. When they moved away, you saw tear and blood stains.

"Dear, you've certainly made quite a mess of yourself." It was the deep baritone of Her Majesty, yet despite that you couldn't bring yourself to care. Your heart didn't jump in recognition and neither did your eyes widen. You lay there motionless.

"Come, it is far too harsh out here for a wounded heart." She easily picked your limp body up, Ayin still laying against your chest, its pulsating warmth weaker than ever.

The Tsaritsa noticed a pattern within her kingdom. The cycle of love repeating endlessly, so everlasting even the Raiden Shogun would be envious.

How cruel this cycle was to her subjects and even the ruler of them all. To allow attachments to grow and fester and wrap thorns and roots in one's heart only to have them brutally torn out. Leaving you with nothing but scars.

Right now you were a bleeding wound, not even the most adept and knowledgeable would be able to know how to help you.

Not even the Tsaritsa, who had seen and experienced this pattern countless times, did not know the solution.

But she knew different outcomes. She merely awaited to see which one you would set down.

The day of Signora's official funeral you were much quieter. The harbingers gathered around her cold casket. You had grieved alone with her corpse some days earlier, pretending her hand was grasping your own and she was hugging you closely to her chest. That you were missing your old family as she comforted you, back when you were younger and more of a crybaby.

That she'd allow you to be weak again, to be a crybaby again and weep for what you missed.

She had never responded to your questions about her and Rostam.

Her cold casket didn't burn bright red like Little Ayin. It was white in the white snow and ice. Columbina sang with a smile, the other harbingers bickering. Your hand rested against her coffin.

The creeps of the Tsaritsa's power made themselves known, frost creeping their way through the building. You comforted the cold metal of the coffin the same way her hand comforted you. Perhaps you could pretend that somewhere, somehow, she could feel it.

Little Ayin fluttered away from you, landing on the fallen pawn on the chessboard.

"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade..."

The words from Pulcinella's mouth made you sick. Your teeth grit in anger.

The traveler had defeated The Fair Lady in a duel before the throne. Childe's words were engraved into your very mind, anger burning through your veins. It was customary for her to be executed after their fight by the shogun.

The harbinger's heartless and stupid words made it worse, your gaze flickering between them like a caged animal ready to strike. You tapped your finger against the coffin, willing yourself to believe it was empty.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." Pierro stepped out of the shadows, the frost spreading across the floor away from you, "Right now you have no captive audience."

You unclenched your fist and stood straighter as the harbingers gathered around her. Blood dribbled from your palm where you had cut them with your nails.

Little Ayin rested on her coffin, and it burned away. Your last source of her warmth gone. You had to bite your tongue to keep from crying or yelling.

Pierro's every word hung in the air like the ending of an act to a play. And at the end of the act, the entire building was encased in ice. Never to be disturbed again, Signora would rest in absolute peace.

"As was Her Majesty's benevolence."

But it wasn't until after you had returned to the palace, with a demand to meet with Her Majesty, when you realized she was no where near the vacinity.

The Tsaritsa hadn't frozen Signora's burial site. You had.

"Your Majesty." You faced her, head lifted to meet her eyes.

"Yes, your grace?" She responded with a wicked grin.

"I am no longer a child." Your eyes resembled her eleventh harbinger, Hell having greeted you firsthand, "My birth mother and family cruelly torn away from me, and my mother from this world now dead. My childhood is dead and I wish to accept the gnosis."

Your eyes, wide with youth, were steadfast and set in determination and - the Tsaritsa amusedly noticed - rage.

She grinned, fangs peaking from behind her lips, "Then... I am sorry...to also have you shoulder the grievances of the world. Since you could endure my bitter cold, you must have the desire to burn? Then, burn away the old world for me. That is all I ask of you. Surely you can fulfill it."

The box materialized in her hands and you reached to take it.

"I will burn away the old world." You said through gritted teeth, your knuckles turning white from your grip on the gnosis, "I will cleanse this world, and I will kill the traveler."

The Tsaritsa nodded, her smile never faltering, "Then welcome to the Fatui, your grace. I know you shall become a wonderful ruler for the new world, and a vengeful soldier for your lost mother."

The patterns that love followed truly were amusing.

#sagau #genshin self aware #genshin cult au #sagau fatui au #fatui au #signora #child!reader #signora is mother #platonic!signora #arlecchino crumbs #Pierro grandad fr #btw this was my actual reaction to Signora's death/hj #anyways how r yall? i am. normal.#anyways i don't even remember what i wrote and i am not abt to proofread it #bc i thought it was so good while i was writing it and now i am Afraid.#i have no more words i used them all writing this #hope u like it be gay do crime

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