#my lesbianism for her is endless

[cherrisherry]

was scanning the funger subreddit for smth (a fools errand, truly) and yknow ngl I'm kinda tired of people looking at character designs that aren't conventionally attractive and calling them ugly

Samarie is pretty in the way that a tree stretching away from a powerline is. That an orange that has thicker flesh is. She may never be on the cover of vogue but god damn if she wouldn't make me stop and look twice in a grocery store to admire her. She's natures imperfections and I wouldn't have her any other way ngl. She's pretty don't try to change my mind u can't

[zsanuu]

[darlingcloudie-9]

Live laugh love Kumonoue & Yuichiro’s straining relationship 💕

[dxliriumoftheendless]

sandman fandom how are we feeling about the season two casting call??

[sappho-favourite-pupil]

The amount of people being vocal about their violently homophobic "opinions" has increased exponentially, after the election of this extreme right-wing and homophobic government. I feel like a few years ago a lot of people were homophobic anyway, but now they are being validated by our politicians and ofc things have gotten worse.

[yoggybloggy]

i hate labelling and i dont believe in astrology but combine the two. im an aro sun lesbian moon ace rising yeah sure that works

[ano-po]

The creepy thing about instagram and God is that I would think of an idea, just inside my mind, and then later I would see a reel telling me why it's a bad idea.

[vulpixelates]

the monday blues are getting me especially hard after a four day weekend of being curled up in bed and playing pretend with my wife 😔😔

daydreaming about the lesbians in our heads SAVE ME

[aghostintheforest]

ever time i use Thorns i'm forced to remember that he is, in fact, a guy

[valena-nedela]

Mine is... complicated.

I consider myself bisexual and genderfluid or some other form of NB at this point, and my pronouns are inconsistent, changing depending on which social circle I'm in at the moment (and, in turn, how much they know of me IRL/how likely my genderfuckery is to get back to more conservative family members). My main OC at one point, the one who was basically my idealized fictional self, I'd have called same & same. But I've kind of drifted away from that one.

It's not just gender, there. I've done characters of basically every combination of sex/gender/orientation, including a couple of Pathfinder characters who were explicitly trans male (half-elf Sorcerer) and trans female (half-elf Cleric), and I can fully visualize myself being any of them. That older OC, though... Let's just say I really wanted to be the main character of an anime back then.

hey i'm just curious about something!! i notice a lot of sonas/avatars/main ocs will share a lot with their owner, but i wonder how many differ in terms of identity?

feel free to add in tags if you'd like to talk about yourself and your sona!

also reblogs appreciated to reach a wider audience <3 i'm very curious !!

[romantically-yours]

I desire romantically doing makeup with somebody

[starrywilliams]

guilty as sin? | abby anderson

“these fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head”

warnings: masturbation, slight masochism, ruined orgasm, angst, perv!abby (a little), internalized homophobia (discussed in more detail below)

notes: no surprise my favourite ttpd song is the gayest one on the album, but guilty as sin? screams lesbian guilt i fear!!!! i’ve been writing this for over a month so i hope u guys like it 😭

cw: discussion of lesbian guilt & comphet - these are somewhat based on my own experiences with my sexuality and i absolutely!!! do not think a man can ‘cure’ a lesbian or anything similar to that. nor do i believe anyone should ever feel guilty for being gay. realising i’m a lesbian has been extremely freeing & dykes r the best x

wc: 1.8k

likes, comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

the door slammed harshly behind abby as she stormed into her room. she pulled her jacket off desperately; her skin hot under its tight vice. she’d been in the gym, trying to work out her endless frustration of late, when you’d walked in.

you’d only said “hi" and smiled politely at her before setting your things down. but she felt her stomach churn, a black hole opening inside her. abby stood up, pulling the weights off the barbell and onto their rack. she grunted softly, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.

you’d started stretching, currently bent over as you touched your toes. her eyes drifted for an infinitesimal moment, locking onto the swell of your-. she looked away - wrongwrongwrong.

but then she looked back, her stare feasting on your body. she wondered whether you were doing this on purpose, trying to tempt her from across the room. she wondered if you knew her dirty little secret, abby picturing a smirk on your face as you mocked her for such indecent thoughts.

she didn’t want to feel this way. she didn’t want to feel the poison ivy swarming around her chest, getting tighter, tighter. the rash spread inside her; this invisible whip of lust lashing against her skin whenever your face appeared in her mind. well, had it been just your face maybe she wouldn’t feel like some depraved sinner.

now it wasn’t like abby believed in god, in a world where death and destruction infect every crevice you’d have to be mad to believe that any ‘god’ wanted its followers to suffer so greatly. but something inside her screamed every time she had these thoughts. these impure, twisted thoughts about you.

she didn’t know what made her feel like this. what made her resent you for simply existing; and what made her resent herself.

she recalled her teenage years, when manny had subtly suggested that owen liked her - so she was supposed to like him back, right? and she tried! she loved him even - but there was always that something, that feeling in her gut that told her that something was wrong, something about him that just would never sit right with her.

but all the other girls wanted a boyfriend too, and the jealousy was nice at first - she’d thought. after all, mel was the star student, a doctor in the making, her dad’s favourite; and nora was this freshly trained medical officer, and abby was- abby was just abby.

her dad began noticing her more too - previously too preoccupied with his firefly duties and his favourite student. now his little girl was slipping away from him, he finally began paying her the amount of attention she’d craved for so long.

before, their conversations had often drifted into talk of mel and her new achievements, or his hopes of a vaccine, or some animal he was tracking. never anything about his daughter’s life.

having a boyfriend made her interesting, it gave the other girls something to envy. which was a nice reversal, for a while. then her dad died, and she had become this object of pity. owen helped a bit, she supposed. he tried to distract her and keep her focused on their new role as soldiers, but she barely cared about him anymore. all she wanted was revenge, and with revenge, came you.

you were one of the gyms trainers, passionate about helping the members of the wlf stay fit and healthy! you’d helped her start lifting weights, squealed as she reached every milestone, and had remarked jokingly about just how much you loved her new physique.

it was innocent at first, the most being her brain going a little fuzzy when you’d bit your lip while spotting her; a slight blush when you’d hugged her a little too tight. then, once she and owen were finally broken up, these new pictures began hanging themselves on the walls of her mind. still, innocent, just slightly tainted with desire - the true nature of them still an avoidable matter for her back then.

when she could ignore the truth in her recent behaviour, abby loved spending time with you. after all, you were just really good friends! anyway, she’d had a boyfriend before so everyone knew she was normal, and absolutely not different, and she would never ever have to feel like an outsider.

yet it took a mere three months before she gave up on this foolish lie. she liked you, and as long as nobody ever found out, it wouldn’t matter.

but as her mind grew dark and twisted - joel a constant topic in her head as she obsessed over finally getting to enact revenge - her thoughts got worse in turn. she wanted you - filthily and desperately.

every gym session ended with another cold shower, a desperate plea for her body to stop and let her focus on the task at hand; a hopeless attempt to bury this ache into the ground; an endless endeavour to escape these urges for just one second.

but then she came back changed, every hair on her body endlessly erected with guilt. the way she’d killed him so mercilessly, the way it had done nothing to ease the pain, and the way you had tormented her mind ceaselessly throughout the entire trip.

maybe, had she never met you, she could’ve just killed him and been satisfied. maybe had you never offered to train her personally, she could’ve just stayed comfortable in that stuffy closet. maybe if she found the right man she’d stop feeling this way.

abby deemed such ideas unfathomable now.

owen made her feel nothing. being with him was like an eternal thursday, an endless wait for the week’s end and its pleasure to turn up at her door. every day she’d wait for some spark to arrive, the routine only becoming more and more tedious by the minute. but he helped her get people’s attention, which was enough when she was just abby.

but then she was abby anderson, top scar killer and isaac’s favourite. she got attention on her own, she was praised for her own accomplishments: people worshipped the fucking ground she walked on. but they didn’t know who she really was.

they didn’t know she liked girls the way she was supposed to like boys. she’d seen it in enough of those wlf movie nights - cruel jokes about anyone who even thought about being different. she’d heard the way people gossiped, “did you hear that they’re moving lesbians into the family unit? what a joke.”

they said it like it was something dirty, something egregious, something that she had to hate about herself. so she did.

but as long as she kept it secret, kept it locked away in her mind, maybe she’d be okay. after all, only your actions talk: it was the age old question really, if a tree falls in a forest and no one else hears it, does it make a sound?

abby fell back against her bed sheets, calloused hands pushing her cargos down to her ankles as she replayed the sight of you in her mind. bent over - she felt like you were trying to tempt her on purpose.

she felt like a heathen; staring, fantasizing, worshipping. her mind was bursting with the idea of every possible position she could put you in; head a chorus of every little noise she wanted to hear you make; eyes screwed shut as depravity filled her every sense.

she shoved her bralette up her chest roughly, fingertips dragging over her nipples with little mercy. she pinched them, the peach skin stinging underneath her touch.

she wanted it to hurt; wanted it to feel like some sort of punishment for her thoughts. but as her hips bucked into the air, a long whine dragging from her clenched jaw, she realised it needed to hurt more.

she imagined you, finding her like this. disgust burnt into your features - what the fuck was she doing? repeating your name like some subverted prayer, fingers harshly scratching along her stomach as she tried to make the pleasure feel more like pain, trying to induce some connection between the two.

if it hurt enough, would she stop? force herself to forget? could she torture this part of herself until it surrendered?

her hand slipped over the top of her boxers, a finger running tentatively over her clit through the now darkened fabric. she bit down on her lip, groaning against it as she pushed down harder and harder, attempting to break through the skin.

another finger pressed down, beginning to draw circles down on the throbbing bud. she jolted against her own touch, your head between her legs burning into her mind. your hands, trailing along her flesh - groping at her with little tenderness; tongue, swiping at her pussy with no intent of fulfillment: she wanted you to make her weep, smoke out her lungs with shame, deny her from gratification until all she could feel was regret.

she pulled away, only to cover her fingertips with her spit - diving under her boxers to continue with her corruption. abby let out a strangled sigh, hips grinding against her fingers as they toyed with her clit.

she moved a hand to her hair, knuckles stretching against her scalp as she began to pull her braid. she grunted, yanking even harder. she whispered your name: pained, hopeless.

she sped up her assault against her pussy, feeling that pit in the bottom of her stomach begin to grow. “pleasepleaseplease” her voice cracked as she begged, unsure what she was pleading for.

she wanted to stop, but she needed to try and make this feeling go away. she knew it would come back, it always did - but even five minutes free from your torment on her mind might save her.

her fingers kept going, drawing desperate circles against her weeping pussy relentlessly. the void was growing, almost consuming her entirely at this point. she thought of you laughing at her current state: a crying mess, pussy wet with perversion.

it was sick, really - how the idea of you hating her for this made her need even worse. you’d probably think it appalling: someone who was supposed to be your friend, now sat here burning at the thought of you.

a part of her wished that you shared this sickness. that you too let yourself be overwhelmed by the thought of sin. maybe you didn’t let the guilt swallow you whole - she hoped so.

but there was no point lingering in the what-ifs, they were far too fleeting.

her deft fingers quickened their pace, the ache all consuming. the climb began - a desperate jump towards oblivion. closer, closer. the flames scorched her bedsheets as her breathing hastened.

fuck, she hissed before reaching the apex with a scream of your name. a scream? a whisper? a thought? it didn’t make her actions any less deplorable.

her conscience grabbed pleasure by the throat as she ripped her fingers away, putting out the blaze on her hips like a cigarette crushed on the ground.

the desire imploded within the walls of her torso; scratching against her insides in the vengeance of her denial.

it was wrong; she had to stop it. yet still, the guilt poured into her lungs with no chance of resolve. she was a fool for thinking it would fix her. maybe next time it would work. maybe next time the exorcism would finally purify her.

until next time.

[peeweekey]

super graphic ultra-modern girl like me!

pairing: haley x reader

wc: 2k

tags: mature (NOT explicit) , closeted lesbian haley , both of you are drunk , making out

synopsis: where sharing lipstick with your best friend haley makes you feel… things.

a/n: reader: oh ho ho, i sure hope kissing my bff doesnt awaken anything in me! (it did)

i wrote this listening to super graphic ultra modern girl by chappel roan! haley fits so many of her songs its insane

your head is aching, spinning like you were sent to another dimension that consists of disco flashing lights and the nauseating smell of spilt vodka—all thanks to the sheer amount of alcohol you consumed in the past 5 hours. it’s pushing 3 AM—the strappy 4 inch heels are chafing your feet, the skimpy skirt clinging to your hips ride up in a way that would scandalize the small village mothers, and body glitter covering every inch of your skin. 

you feel light, weightless as you flutter and float through the rhythmic bass engulfing the club. you nod your head to the beat of the music, swaying your hips that loosen with every sip of the sweet alcoholic drink in your hand. 

you’re bouncing up and down to party rock anthem when your phone buzzes. fishing it out of your pocket, you squint your eyes to make out the notification. you bow your head, trying to make out the message over the flashing lights.

an amused laugh bubbles out of you. haley.

—> go 2 thr bathroon rn

—> hurry or else

you turn and wobble out of the middle of the dance floor, swaying to the beat while maneuvering the sea of sweaty bodies. the bathroom is in an isolated corner by the entrance of the club. you push the door open, stumbling slightly when it takes a little less effort than you expect.

you enter the club bathroom, shutting the ornate door behind you. it slams with a resounding slam, dampening the loud candy pop songs blaring through the party outside. 

your heels click against cool marble as you saunter to the long, seemingly endless, stretch of mirrors and faucets. twisting the knob, a rush of tap water flows freely; it contrasts satisfyingly with the heated skin of your hands. you wet your fingers, dabbing your cheeks and neck with cool water. you sigh, shivering with the instant relief it brings.

as you cool yourself off, you think—you do wonder what haley’s predicament is, she texted you with much urgency. 

perhaps she fell into the toilet—or maybe she’s drunk herself to the point of spewing her guts out in one of these very cubicles. the latter though makes you giggle. a notification buzzes from your phone, as if the sound of your laughter summoned it.

—> idiot

—> i can hear u laughing from here

you snort.

suddenly, without warning, you feel a warm hand pull you into a stall. it’s a sudden jerking motion, and you almost lose your balance to fall flat on your face. a gasp rips out of you as you clutch on to the very warm, very soft thing that keeps you from falling and twisting your ankle. before you even register the situation, you’re being dragged in to sit on the closed lid of the toilet. 

you’re frazzled, knocked off balance by a rude and very disrespectful stranger who obviously has no morals. you feel your blood boil, ruthless insults ready at the tip of your tongue—

—then you look up, and that feeling dissipates. instead, a cheshire grin splits your face, “haley.”

she’s the living breathing stereotype of a wild party girl like this; blonde hair in waves down her back that smells sweetly of strawberries, nails buffed and painted a pretty baby blue, and make-up done up to the absolute nines. her sequin skirt sparkles and winks as she shifts. pretty, you’ll ask if you could borrow it next time—

manicured fingers snap and you’re pushed out of your own thoughts. haley crosses her arms, standing in between your thighs, looking down at you with a displeased expression. “took you long enough.”

you offer a sheepish smile. “i was busy.”

“yeah,” she sneers, locking the stall door behind her. “busy shaking your ass to trashy zuzu club songs.” 

you ignore the sharp jab with a roll of your eyes. “what’s up?” you ask, your words slur slightly, almost tapering off into incomprehensible gibberish. “didya you puke or something?”

“ew. no,”the loud is just making my head hurt,” she replies, massaging her temples. “stick your legs together, i’m gonna sit on your lap.”

she knocks your thighs together with her knee. haley maneuvers you to her liking, your bare thighs pressing together when she spins and sits perpendicular to your lap.

“hm.” you feel the weight of her settle on top of your thighs. the warmth of her skin meeting yours under the cut of her skirt. you barely repress a shiver at the heat radiating off her skin. “woah! okay now you really have to tell me what’s going on.”

you're met with a faceful of strawberry-scented blonde hair when she shifts away—ignoring you. good news for her, your drink-addled brain doesn’t seem to care. in fact, your drunk brain figures it is a perfect time to shamelessly flirt. your tongue is loose enough, and your brain has completely thrown away its filter. as friends, of course; building camaraderie as people say.

“you smell nice, did you use that strawberry shampoo i gave?” you murmur, brushing the locks away from your face. you feel haley squirm in your lap. you know she used it, the pride bubbles up in you at the thought. 

it’s overly warm, that plus the buttloads of alcohol brewing in your gut makes your skin feel on fire. 

haley growls. “stop talking, dumbass.”

you roll your eyes, pinching her thigh. she yelps, high and breathy, swatting your hand away. she meets your eyes, her blonde brows furrowed.

“geez…” a lazy smile playing on your lips. “just take the compliment, hales.”

a ghost of a smirk appears on her cherry colored lips. glossy and pink. you wonder if they taste as sweet and tart as real cherries do—

you wince internally. thinking like that is not a good idea. damn your alcohol foggy brain, making you think of the inane idea of lusting after your best friend. 

you knock your forehead into her shoulder. “so are we just going to sit here all day?”

“i just need to touch up my lipstick,” she says. facing you with an expectant look. “then we can go back.”

“and that’s why you called me,” you raise a brow. your gaze trails to the cherry coat on her lips—it looks perfectly fine to you. in fact, she looks absolutely darling like this. 

“you need some?”

“…are you offering?”

“why not? we share all my shit anyway,” you shrug. “i think it’s somewhere in my purse—”

“where’s your purse?”

“i left it with the others, i think it’s with abby, i'll text her.” you say. fumbling for your phone, you reach in the hidden pocket of your skirt. the walls enclosing the cubicle restrict your movements; you bump your elbow against the flimsy wood as you dig deeper into the flimsy pocket. your skirt is skin-tight against your hips, you feel the woman above becoming increasingly agitated as your attempts to fish out your phone come out fruitless.

haley huffs above you, shifting; making your wary gaze snap back to her. she looks down at you with a pout—you’re damn sure she’s just as hammered as you.

“too far,” she whines, taking a firm grip of your jaw. your cheeks puff with the force of her squishing them, you feel the pointed tips of her nails digging into the fat there. she swings a leg over you, her hips bracketing your waist as she sits atop you. 

this position feels strangely intimate; like all your senses are overwhelmed with only haley. the heady scent of her skin, the short sounds of her breathing in your ears, the burning feeling wherever she touches—it’s all her, her, her.

which shouldn’t make you feel the way it’s making you feel; like you're buzzing with adrenaline. you feel the blood coursing through your veins at race car speeds—spreading all throughout your body. your cheeks feel hot, you feel dizzy with all your senses stimulated by your best friend.

the reverberating bass from the music outside shakes the walls; like some sort of finality as it thumps, thumps, thumps.

“hales,” you start, your mouth dry. “what—”

she stares at you, her crystalline eyes shining in the dim light of the bathroom. a pretty pink flush paints her cheeks til the tips of her pearl-adorned ears. you feel her breaths against your cheek—short and warm. “stay still, the gloss you have on your lips will do.”

your ears have to be fucking with you… your eyes widen and you swear you feel your heart jump up into your throat. “huh—”

“what?” she says in response to your wide-eyed expression. her tone drops to something akin to a purr. “your lipstick is such a pretty shade.”

helping is what friends are for, right? maybe this is merely the alcohol talking; because she doesn’t like you like that, totally—and the disappointment you feel is not because of that either. 

you swallow the heavy lump in your throat; your voice is strangled and stuttery when you speak. “f—fine.”

“perfect,” she grins. “hold still.”

this is the least you were expecting when you walked into the club bathroom; who knew you’d end up with haley in your lap and hovering over for what is technically a kiss. you will your eyes not to close, burning the view of her leaning over you into your brain. you shudder; this is not a sight that will leave you for months to come.

you squeeze her hip as her face hovers closer, palm lingering at her scratchy sequin miniskirt. you crane your neck, anticipating the brush of her lips against yours. your other hand travels to her upper back, stroking her locks of golden hair; under your ministrations, you feel her tremor slightly.

it feels like eternity when you finally connect. 

sparks fly the moment you feel the plush softness of her mouth against yours, moving in a salacious rhythm that you doubt is for only sharing lipstick. 

her lips are sticky with what remains of that cherry lip gloss; it smears all over your own lips, spreading your deep red lipstick everywhere; at the corner of your lips, at your chin. your eyes flutter shut, a contented sigh escapes your mouth and haley uses that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. she drags her hand up and up, curling her fingers into the base of your neck.

you jolt, the pleasure fogs your mind; your thoughts are muddy, the only coherent thing is of haley. 

your tongue swipes at her bottom lip, chasing the fruity flavor of cherry cola on her lips. it’s sweet, she’s sweet. you feel lightheaded with the overwhelming sensations of it. sure, you’ve kissed once or twice—but it never felt like this; soft and desperate and hot and tingly, affecting you all throughout your body. 

your breaths are labored when she pulls away and you feel it's too soon. a clicking wet sound when her mouth disconnects from yours that makes you shiver. you feel dizzy with warmth; heat is pooling low in your belly, a low buzzing sensation overwhelms everywhere haley touches. 

her lips as wine-red as yours. the same color lipstick smeared messily on her lips. haley wipes the corner of your cupid’s bow, where some of the color had smudged, her breathing heavy and pupils dilated as you stare. her hands feel delightfully warm and soft against your skin. golden strands of hair brush against your cheeks, making you squirm in your seat.

you can barely restrain your delighted giggle, in awe of the absurdity of the situation. haley laughs too, a light sound like a tinkling bell. you slump against the cold tile wall behind you, boneless and in disbelief— did you really just make out with your best friend? and at a grimy club bathroom no less.

time seems suspended here, cramped in a stall with only the sound of heavy breathing. there will be a lot more questions when you leave, lingering glances at your pleasure-pulled hair and smeared lipstick. 

this is what friends do, what you and haley do. your eyes track her every move, unabashedly staring as she readjusts her top. haley catches your eye, smiling like the cat that got all the cream. 

she cranes her face to your ear, whispering. “thanks for the touch up, babe.”

[dxliriumoftheendless]

going back to my roots (death of the endless layout)

[saiscribbles]

Oi Sai , what are you thoughts on the offiacial Pearl X Greg art ?

Well it's not "official" for one thing. It's old personal sketches. People need to stop acting like sketches in the sketchbook of the creator or someone else on the team makes something canon. Do you know how many cringe Switcheroo sketches I have of ideas I'm never gonna use?

Obviously I don't like it. Like many other lesbian fans I relate heavily to Pearl. Lesbian fans already get enough shit from people saying "WEEEELLLLL Sugar is bi and the Gems are teccccnniiccally NB sorta and she based them on her so Pearl's not REAALLLY-" like... couldja let us have this one? Could you let me have my silly fantasy of an all-female society where lesbian is the majority.

Look, when I was growing up in the 90's I had to sit through endless media of a woman being introduced a "lesbian" only to have her entire storyline revolve around her suddenly being attracted to a man. It's bad enough society still acts like lesbians are basically bisexual women (or worse, straight women) in denial and that genuine homosexuality in women is just impossible. So it can grate me.

I don't think it would happen, Pearl in canon is shown to only have interest in women and disinterest at best and repulsion at worst with men, but if Sugar ever made me have to relive Chasing Amy in my comfort show I'd be pretty cross with her.

Now I'll just await the inevitable comments that will try to condescend to me about why I shouldn't feel this way.

[celuere]

(I‘m so sorry anon, I deleted the request because I accidentally posted the unfinished part two on here, luckily I made a screenshot beforehand😭🙏🏼) BUT I THOUGHT ABOUT SOMETHING SIMILAR! As for the happy ending- I can’t guarantee anything🔥

My Hearth

Pt. 2 of The Hearth is now extinguished.

pairing: Arlecchino x fem!reader

context: after Pierro announced to you Arlecchino‘s sudden departure to Fontaine, you were sent off on an mission yourself. Little did you know that your paths would soon cross once again.

content: mentions of blood, arle is desperate actually, angsty, French Arle has my heart you don’t understand, pathetic lesbians in love, sesbian lex at the end (reader receives oral)

word count: 4.3k

Tried my best to create a good plot, so sit back, enjoy, and let me know if you liked it! <333

MDNI!

The Fatui had many ways of earning their income. Ranging from regular Business Deals, weapon trades to offering services such as personal security and assassins.

So that’s what brought you to Port Ormos. One week after Pierro broke the news of Arlecchino’s transfer to Fontaine, you were sent off to Sumeru for a mission of your own. There has been multiple recordings of Fatui Members going either missing or being found dead with the trading goods nowhere to be found at several secret routes all around Port Ormos.

You liked the Sumeru, the people were always nice and welcoming, the food was amazing but if it weren’t for this awful weather… It has been scolding hot the past days only for the sky to let all hell break loose right on the day of a very important step in your investigation. It was pouring down with no end in sight, making it hard for you to actually make out the faces and the number of persons present that gathered at the Harbor underneath the bridge you‘ve been spying on at them for the past 30 minutes.

You knew for a fact that one of these persons had to be Phillipp, the salesman from Mondstadt that has been providing the Fatui with firearms for several years now. The organization never really had any problems with him up until a few weeks ago when one of his guys got found dead on his trade route. Now he was demanding more money as compensation and only delivers now every once in a while instead of twice every week.

It seems like they were discussing something, conversation getting more heated with every minutes that’s been passing. Are they perhaps waiting for someone…? In the distance you could make out one of Fontaine‘s boat settling in the harbor. Your wet clothes were already clinging to you like a second skin, having to wipe the water out of your face to keep at least a slight overview on the situation. You were pissed to put it mildly.

This sucked huge ass.

In miserable moments like these your mind went back to her. To the way she looked at you. The way she held you. The way her hands roamed over your body in the dead of the night after you sneaked into her home or vice versa. You missed looking into those beautiful crimson eyes. Missed the way your hands always were secretly intertwined at every meeting underneath the table. Missed how her eyes would always find yours in a crowded place first.

You tried protesting against Pierro‘s demands but of course to no avail. His decision was already set in stone so next thing you knew you were shipped off to Sumeru with all the necessary information you needed and a small suitcase.

That was now eight months ago. Eight months filled with endless intelligence gathering, writing reports to your father, shadowing suspects and so on. You hated it. It‘s not that it was hard for you, not at all. It was just so, so dreadful and annoying. The only truly valuable information you got out of your intelligence network was that only trading routes to Fontaine were affected and that Phillipp was about to end his cooperation with the Fatui if his delivery guys keep dying. You knew there was important key information missing but for hells sake you were strictly prohibited to talk to anyone else outside of your network or else someone might catch wind of the investigation.

You were snapped back out of your thoughts as you noticed another person joining in on the conversation. They probably just got off of the ship that halted at the Port a few minutes ago. Just as everyone else, you couldn’t make out a face or what they were wearing since they were holding up an umbrella. They exchanged handshakes and probably introduction before they headed towards Djafar Tavern.

That was probably the person they were waiting for…

Along with the arrival of the mysterious new person, you also took notice of how Port Ormos seemed now much more… livelier despite the harsh downpour. The streets alongside the river that leads into the heart of Sumeru was suddenly bustling with guards. Fatui Guards. Usually this wouldn’t be a problem. But if people found out that Pierro sent his daughter to investigate, shit would be going up in a bright bonfire, so who exactly is interfering with your investigations? You pulled the mask of your hood back over your nose, ignoring how the rain already drenched the fabric and made a move to follow the small group of businesspeople to the restaurant.

That’s where your Cryo Vision came quite in handy because freezing the flooded floor underneath your footsteps silenced almost completely any of your movements and allowed you in most cases to follow suspects without being noticed. Sliding down the wooden surface of the big trees that’s been growing right through you landed silently right behind the destination. You quickly looked around you, taking in and analyzing your surroundings, noticing the several guards talking at their boat and obviously not really caring much how vulnerable they are right now or whatever task was bestowed upon them.

Around the corner on your right was the entrance, a Quick look around you proofed your suspicions: The place is already heavily guarded. You cursed underneath your breath, for the first time in months you were onto something and now you had no chance of checking things out. But you weren’t stupid, nor were you someone who gave up easily. So through some eavesdropping on the guards nearby you found out that they were actually going to stay a while in Sumeru City, probably until they wrapped up whatever deal they were working on. You decided to wrap things up for today and head back to your place before anyone might catch wind of your presence.

But still… on your way back home you couldn’t shake off the strange gut feeling that you already got noticed by a certain someone.

After taking a much needed bath you sat down at your desk and dipped your father into the ink. Much to your dislike, your father wanted you to write at least two reports to him, each week. For the entirety of your stay. You groaned as you massaged the bridge of your nose, this whole thing was ridiculous. For months you‘ve made absolutely zero progressions and all you‘ve been writing about lately is the weather, the food, when you woke up, went to bed and most importantly how many of your efforts went right down the drain. At least you could tell him about the arrival of a mysterious Fatui Official now. You had to make progressions soon or this whole situation will soon start making much more problems than just a few missing weapon and dead people.

When you finished you letter and reading through it one more time you realized how messy your handwriting has gotten over the last few months… You stood up from your desk either way and took the carrier pigeon out of its cage, attaching the Papier to its chest and securing it before opening your window sending it off. It would to be too risky right sent the letter off by post when it‘s addressed to the Jester himself.

Resting your arms on the windowsill with your head on top, you looked over Sumeru‘s beautiful green scenery. The rain just stopped a few minutes ago, leaving huge puddles and the wonderful fresh scent of moist earth and grass in the air. That’s when she started tormenting your thoughts again for the now millionth time in the last eight months. Celestia, you missed her. You missed her so much it actually sent a sharp pain through your heart anytime you thought back to her. You stopped wearing the color red ever since that day. It hurt too much. It reminded you of her too much. Everything was just too much at that moment.

The clouds above Sumeru City broke loose once again as the sheer reminder of her absence ripped through your heart like a bolt of lightning.

She was just about to head straight to bed as it knocked on the window of the secret Fatui HQ in Sumeru City. Arlecchino glanced over only to to see her pitch-black carrier pigeon waiting for her to open it up, a bloody harness along with a rolled up sheet of paper secured to it between its beak. She didn’t actually expect the bird to be of use tonight but it’s always better to be save than sorry so she let the small animal in, allowing it to rest on her arm as she loosened the dry sheet of paper from the harness and unrolled it.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw who the letter was addressed to. Wrinkles further forming on her forehead as she read through its contents. Arlecchino realized two things.

One: The stranger the she noticed spying on her and Phillipp earlier this evening was a spy of the Fatui themselves.

Second: She had to take care of this individual. As soon as possible.

The reason Arlecchino arranged a meeting with the fellow Mondstadter was because the House of the Hearth has been greatly affected by whoever is terrorizing the trade routes connecting the Court of Fontaine and Port Ormos. As Father it was her and only her responsibility to look after the children under her care and that they’re cared for, feed with a roof above their head. But that turned out to be rather difficult if someone decides to kill the damned delivery guys with the audacity to steal her goods. It was one thing to disrespect the Knave like that. It was a whole another topic if it came at the cost of her children’s health. So that’s why she ordered Philipp to meet her at Port Ormos and to be completely honest: That man didn’t have one clue what he was talking about when he tried to justify why exactly he is accusing the Fatui of tempering with the routes, just spouting tons of nonsense. He wasn’t playing stupid. Nobody in their right mind would play stupid in front of Arlecchino herself. So it left only one option on the table:

A third party being involved. She noticed one of the other businessmen, Rainer, at the table acting suspiciously quiet, only speaking up when spoken to but never actively providing useful information. But once Arlecchino mentioned the involvement of an outsider, Rainer almost immediately excused himself and left the Tavern altogether, earning himself a spot at the top of her list as Nr. 1 suspect.

But who exactly was that person she spotted on top of the bridge? Reading through the letter, she was 90% sure that it‘s the same person who wrote it but last time she checked there weren’t any high ranking Officials stationed in Sumeru lately.

So it‘s most likely a secret investigation.

This was starting to get on her nerves more than she‘d like. As if the whole trading route drama wasn’t enough already, she now had to deal with a secret investigator too and since she was already spotted, playing nice wasn’t an option anymore because according to Pierro’s demands, she‘s supposed to be in Fontaine. That’s why she didn’t ask for permission nor did she take any of the kids with her, leaving Lyney in charge for the time being.

Arlecchino set the pigeon free again. Contemplating her next steps as she gazed up into the dark-orange night sky. The sheer beauty reminded of something or rather someone. She‘d be a fool to admit it openly but ever since Pierro forbade her to ever do as much as look into the direction of you and promptly discharged her to the Nation of Justice, she felt hollow. As if something was missing. Probably the way she always held you close to her chest at night, fingers combing through your soft hair as she felt her mind settling down. Nights with you were always… peaceful. Not nearly as cruel and gruesome as usually and now that she is forced to stay away from you for a certain timeframe… it was a miracle for her to get more than two hours of sleep per day. She yearned for you. Yearned so much it was getting unbearable at times. But never in her right mind would she stay willingly away from you. Once she earned the Hydro Gnosis, she‘d make her next move. You.

And nobody will manage to stop her. Not even the Jester.

This was terrible idea. And a suicidal one at that. You knew better than to follow a strange woman into unknown territory, unarmed, the only thing at your disposal being your Cryo Vision.

It has been now raining non-stop for the past days ever since your observation in Port Ormos. And you‘re following someone. In the dead of the night. In your Pyjamas. How did you end up this situation? You overheard Philipp and one of his assistants outside of the window of your residence how they wanted to meet up with „her“.

So not wasting any time you slipped on your shoes and sneaked out of your window before following them silently outside of the city until you had to hide behind a rather large tree as they came to a stop, likely because they reached their meeting point. The only thing you could make out from this rather large distance where some hushed whispers and cursing before they retreated back into the City. And this was your chance to finally find out who this mysterious woman might be.

So daring a look behind behind the tree, the only think you could make out was a cloaked figure slendering the muddy path down. Did she want to maybe clear her head? Nonetheless you got your ass moving after her. And goodness you were freezing to death, you were throwing every possible insult at your own head for the amount of stupidity.

She knew someone was following her. Someone who was about to take their last breaths as she wandered down into the nearby forest. The rain was making it difficult for her to see much but that wasn’t any of her concerns. The main problem was the leaves of the various trees preventing any moon light from illuminating her surroundings. She could barely make out the direction of the path she was walking on. But Arlecchino decided that they were now far enough away from any possible witnesses so raising her fingers, a snap echoed through the woods.

Quiet. Everything was quiet. Not the bustling of leaves in the wind was to be heard, nor the downpour from above the trees. Not s single thing. The only sound you could make out was a snap. And now steps. From behind, in front, left or right you couldn’t determine until you felt a strong hand covering your mouth and a sharp object pressing against your throat. You winced against the strangers skin and felt a shiver so cold running through your body, you could feel aftermath still lingering in your bones as you felt a breath against the shell of your ear. You were careless. And you knew you had the to pay the price for it.

„Title. Occupation. Superior.“, a low, dangerous voice in your ear. An all too familiar one you almost fainted as you recognized it with ease.

Arlecchino. It all clicked. The sudden Fatui operatives scattered around Port Ormos. The boat from Fontaine. It wasn’t just any Fatui Officer. It was her. It took every fiber in your body to not make any sudden movements of start crying.

As she slowly lowered her hand from your mouth to let you answer, your voice was shaking with anticipation, „Is that really how you greet your girlfriend in a dark forest, in the middle of the night…?“, and just as fast as those nails were pressing against your throat, they were gonna in an instant as you were whipped around to face her, a small fire hovering now next to your face as you looked into those deep-red x‘s.

It was rare of the fourth Fatui Harbinger to be surprised for once. Even shocked. But out of all things she didn’t expect to hear your voice. To look into those beautiful eyes when she turned you around by your shoulders. To see the tears slowly starting to form the longer she looked at your face. No words had to be spoken as she pulled you into a tight hug. So loving and warm, you couldn’t help but start crying into her neck, fingers digging into the fabric of her cloak.

„It was you… It was you all along, my sweet…“, she pressed a kiss to your ear, hand desperate gripping onto your waist as if she was afraid you‘d slip out of her hands if she held onto your cold figure too loose.

„My goodness, you are freezing, Cherie…“, she broke up the hug before taking off her cloak and wrapping it around your shaking body. Now cupping your face in her hands she took a closer look at you. And her breath halted. Even when your wet hair was clinging to your skin with those tears tainting your face, you were simply breathtaking, it was actually taking all of the Diplomats self control to not kiss you stupid until your lips were all swollen and hurting.

„Shhhhh… stop crying now… you know I don’t like tears… especially on your beautiful face, mon amour…“, gently wiping the tears away with her thumb, Arlecchino pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

„What are you doing here…?“, you managed to blabber out between sobs and sniffs. It was like waking up from a fever dream. Feeling her touch against your skin after so many months felt like a missing puzzle piece being finally found. You couldn’t help but cry even more at the sensation of her lips pressing a kiss to your wet forehead.

„Not here, my little dove, not here… you‘re going to catch a cold if we keep on standing here out in the wild…“, another kisses being pressed to your wet skin, you could tell by the grip on your face that Arlecchino was trying her best to not devour you here in the middle of the night against a wet tree trunk like a starved animal. She scooped you up into her suspiciously warm arms and carried you all the way back to Sumeru City until you reached your residence.

„How come you live right across from me but I never once saw you…?“, since you left your keys inside she had to pick the lock with her nails. As Arlecchino was concentrated you couldn’t help but still notice her middle- and ringfinger on her right hand still being neatly filed down.

Goodness.

„I… have no idea… I mostly left the house late in the evening or afternoon…“, a soft click in your door and she was pushing it open and gently dragging you inside with her. „But what are you doing here, I thought my father stationed you in Fon-”, she silenced you with a press of her finger against your lips.

„Not now, love… let’s discuss these matters tomorrow… Let‘s get you dry first.“, you sighed but gave in and navigated her through the small house you’ve been renting for the past months, quickly grabbing a towel from the bathroom before proceeding to your bedroom where you quickly closed the still opened window.

„Let me do that for you…“, Arle carefully tucked the fabric out of your hands and set it down on your bed, „I‘m going to need you to take off…”, but you were already pulling your soaked shirt over your head and slipped your pants down your legs. The only noticeable reaction from her was a deep inhale.

„There… All done…“, you gave her a soft smile before she put the towel around your body, gently rubbing you dry as if you’re made out of the finest and most expensive porcelain. She stopped at your chest, taking you in as you saw her wet her lips.

„Something the matter…?“, you gulped down whatever nervousness was bubbling up inside of you. The woman you’ve been aching for the past months was standing in front of you. That realization just seemed to hit you now. Slowly raising her eyes from your exposed chest to meet yours in an intense stare, a stare so full with love and affection it knocked the air out of your lungs.

„Tu es aussi belle que le jour où je t'ai perdue...“.

You‘re as beautiful as the day I lost you…

Your heart set out a good beat or two. Or three. Maybe even four. You parted your lips, wanting to say something but quickly closed them again. Your mind was blank. There was just… her… just Arlecchino standing in front of you. Seeing her throat move as she gulped you looked back up to her in pure awe.

Was she nervous?

A clear of her throat as she decided to break the silence between the two of you. „My… apologies… let me finish you drying…“, she wanted to set the towel back down on your bed but your hands were faster as you grabbed her face and pulled her down into your first kiss of the evening.

And heaven itself seemed to open up for Peruere as her lips finally made contact with yours.

Blackened hands pushing you down onto the mattress of your bed, grabbing onto every possible curve she could get ahold of as if she might actually die if she takes them off for longer than a nanosecond.

„Magnifique... vous êtes tellement belle...“, she couldn’t help herself but take your right nipple into her mouth, pulling a sweet moan out of your lips which sent a wave of unbearable heat right into her core. She needed you. In every possible way it was driving her at the brink of insanity.

Beautiful… you are so utterly beautiful…

Your mind was too clouded by her touches and whispered words, you physically couldn’t bring out even the few simplest words as you arched into her touch, seemingly not getting enough of her. Your heart was pumping so loud behind your ribcage, you were surprised she didn’t hear it already. You let out another soft moan as the Harbingers lips let go of your now stiff nipple with a „plop“ before moving over to gift your other nipple with the same mind-clouding treatment. At the same time her finger ghosted over your already sensitive clit before moving down to your drenched entrance and something akin to hunger stirred inside of her.

You merely blinked and suddenly found her kneeling down in front of your bed right with her face between your legs.

„Arle, what are you…-”

„Shhhh…“, spreading your folds with her two filed down fingers, she blowed some air against your sensitiveness, „just let me have this…“, she didn’t give you any time to respond, that’s how fast she buried her tongue inside of your pussy.

Arlecchino didn’t believe in heaven. But this. This might very well be her own personal haven. Her hands moved your thighs over onto her shoulders as she greedily swallowed your juices. And she dared look up at your facial expression as you gripped a handful of her hair, pressing her further into your wetness. The pleasured look on your face would’ve been enough to force her down onto your knees if she weren’t already kneeling before you like you‘re the highest form of power in all of Teyvat.

„missedyourtongues‘much…“, already blabbering mess for her, weren’t you? But it‘s not like you could give a fuck when the love of your life was literally devouring you like she‘s been starving for the past centuries, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs to keep you put.

You didn’t think about tomorrow. Or that you weren’t even supposed to breathe the same air as the woman feasting on you like you were a five-course meal. You didn’t think about how your father would react nor about your investigation. You didn’t care. Not a single bit. For now it was just you and her. How her nose pressed into your clit, how her tongue thrusted in and out of you.

For now you could allow yourself to melt in her arms. To let her devour you whole and let go of the struggles you’ve been facing without her- because of her- for the last few months.

And for the first time you felt whole again.

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TADAAAAAAAAAA anon let me know if you want me to write a third (and last) part, but I thought this would be an amazing ending to this chapter but I‘ve had SO much fun writing this!