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musings-of-miss-j · 3 months

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no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part eight: in which you're forcibly removed from your comfort zone by none other than the resident ginger, and you meet a certain someone's alter ego(s)

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will not be romantic interests)

notes: surprise surprise, the burn is still slow!! mentions of blood, gn reader with a dosage of snark that probably exceeds the recommended value

series masterlist

author's notes: *daddy's home plays faintly in the background, slowly but surely increasing in volume as i approach you on a hoverboard with a comically large witch's hat on my head and a ridiculous pair of sunglasses on*

word count: 4725

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

It was, by all accounts, supposed to have been a completely normal lab session. You were planning the reaction route you’d take to test the enzyme you’d synthesised and the various ways to ensure its effectivity other than the rate of the reaction and the yield as you waltzed through the door (the inscriptions were glowing a pretty purple-pink hue reminiscent of sakura blooms that day). The redox apparatus from two days prior was sitting exactly where you’d left it, nothing out of the ordinary there. The abnormality came in the form of a segment currently in the process of detaching the round-bottomed flask where your product had accumulated from the condenser; the first thought to register was the sheer audacity for anyone to even contemplate touching your experiments, while the second, this is my chance to study the constitution of these ‘segments’ up close, wasn’t far behind. Glancing up sharply, your flask still clutched in his un-gloved hand, (a voice in your head shrilly protested his lack of adherence to safety procedures) the segment began moving away, no doubt to disappear to wherever him and the rest usually stayed. With more agility than you thought you possessed, you rounded the workbench and grabbed him by his sleeve.

“You. What are you doing with my condensate?” You demanded, grabbing the flask from between his fingers and setting it down on a stand. Now that the imminent danger of your work going to waste was neutralised, you took the time to analyse this segment of your supervisor’s while you had him cornered. This version of Dottore was at least five years younger than the one you were familiar with, probably from his late Akademiya years. And he wore no mask, leaving two brilliant scarlet eyes on full display, rimmed with pale blue lashes and dark shadows beneath them. The segment coughed and fidgeted, trying to find a way to escape your clutches.

“Hold still,” you ordered, reaching up to touch his face. You were startled by the smoothness of the skin, having expected something cold and metallic. How in Teyvat did he pull this off? You tilted the segment’s face this way and that, looking for hidden wiring or steel plating or anything else that would belie machinery, yet you found nothing. You gave his cheeks an experimental squeeze, and were further surprised when your fingers dug into what seemed to be soft skin, then dropped your hands, stumped.

“Huh. You look very human.”

“Prime did tell me that was the intention,” the segment agreed, flushed in the face and still trying to discreetly push past you.

Even his voice didn’t sound robotic in the slightest, riddled with natural dips of tone and perfect inflection for the context. Your eyes took in every detail, every movement, still failing to spot anything that would’ve given him away as a machine.

“Incredible. Did he give you a name?”

“No. Prime wouldn’t waste a second thinking about something so inconsequential.”

If you weren’t mistaken, the segment sounded almost bitter, staring blankly down at the wall with those striking eyes. You felt a twinge of pity; being a clone for Dottore was probably a thankless task. “Would you like one?” You offered, not unkindly. “If your system permits that sort of input, of course.”

“I- I have no use for such things.” It was strange to think that your Doctor, impenetrable and unmoving as he was, had been capable of stuttering to the point where he himself recalled and implemented the trait.

“How about Theta? I’ll need to distinguish between you lot somehow.”

“It’s of no difference to me,” the segment- Theta- mumbled, before shooting you one last look, then disappearing in the split second it took to turn your head in his direction. You wondered where he’d gone, and why he was so wary of you.

Oddly enough, you didn’t see the Doctor for the entire morning and well into the afternoon. It was far from ordinary for him not to be in the lab the moment you arrived, (you suspected he slept there, if he even slept at all) muttering under his breath as he worked and occasionally ordering you to hand him the wrench or scalpel or graduated pipette in a tone so entitled it tempted you to bash him in the head with the very equipment you handed him. Still, you couldn’t deny his usefulness. Having two pairs of hands was always easier than one, especially when the other pair was as experienced as they came; you could bounce any question off him and receive a convincing answer, even if he could never resist throwing in a mocking remark about ‘how shameful it must feel to have such a rudimentary fact slip your mind.’

However, you had much better uses of your time than fretting over the location of your boss, such as extracting a sample of noradrenaline from the brain of a body so fresh you half expected the eyes to open in the midst of your operation. Even after such a time-consuming procedure, the Doctor had yet to make an appearance. You wrote it off, assuming he wouldn’t be present that day, and ate all the fruit tarts you’d brought while boring holes into your notebook with your eyes and trying to determine what exactly had gone so wrong amidst your calculations that the percentage error was at an unforgivable fifty seven percent.

“One hundred cubic centimetres of sulphuric acid sounds unreasonable,” a voice from over your shoulder remarked. You blinked, refocusing on the sheet of paper. A whispered curse slipped past your lips as you registered where you’d went wrong; the decimal point of the volume of acid was indeed one too many zeroes to the right. You twisted to see who’d given you the hint.

It would’ve been incredibly easy to mistaken this segment for Dottore himself, but he lacked the jagged scar spanning from above the mask to his chin and cutting right through the corner of his lip. This segment’s face also wasn’t as harrowed, unlike Dottore’s hollowed cheeks and deathly pale complexion. You probably would’ve missed the difference yourself, if you weren’t so accustomed to the tiny details of the Doctor’s countenance. The segment grinned lazily.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

Oh, for the love of-

You shoved him away with a roll of your eyes. Not quite as Dottore-like as his appearance suggested, then.

“You segments are rather friendly today. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Since Prime isn’t here to hassle us about disturbing you, we thought we might as well make use of the main lab.”

A frown formed between your brows as you mulled over his response, absent-mindedly scratching out the mistakes in your calculations.

“Main lab? There’s others? And why would the Doctor forbid you from utilising it on my account?”

The segment leaned over, resting his elbow on the workbench and his cheek in his hand as he watched you. “What do you mean why”- a delighted expression crossed his face, and his resounding cackle made you look up apprehensively from your notes. “Oh, what a scream. You mean you don’t know?”

The notion of ‘not knowing’ made the scholar in you bristle. “Don’t know what?” You snapped, crossing your arms and turning to subject him to the full force of your glare.

“You’ll find out soon enough, lovey,” he replied with another laugh. You scowled.

Patronising piece of-

“I heard you even gave one of us a name,” he said, interrupting your furious train of thought. “I didn’t think you were so besotted.”

You clicked your tongue dismissively, waving him off. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s counterproductive not to know the names of one’s assistants.”

It was the segment’s turn to bluster. “I am no one’s assistant!”

“Mhm. Be a dear, Gamma, and pass me the dichloromethane so I can make some aspirin for the inevitable headache you lot are going to give me.”

Muttering and grumbling and secretly preening over his namesake being a highly dangerous electromagnetic wave, he slid you the bottle and even a measuring cylinder and pipette to boot. You rewarded his extra efforts with a small smile, and Gamma suddenly understood every nonsensical thought that Prime had experienced since you arrived in Snezhnaya.

Throughout the day, more and more of the segments appeared from Archons-know-where and took to hovering around you while you go about your business, or chattering and doing a fine job of distracting you from whatever you were reading, or even rushing to assist you. You didn’t complain; it was fascinating seeing these different facets of the Doctor. Most of the older segments are rather similar to him, although Gamma had a rather prominent flirtatious streak, while another you’d named Omega was more snappish and impulsive. The younger ones were unfailingly comical; Theta was so easily flustered and a little more apprehensive about explosive compounds than the rest, and Pi, whose name referenced the pastry that was such a direct contradiction to his character, was rude, arrogant and reckless.

(“Since you’re such a bitter pill to swallow, I’ll call you Pi.” You grinned at your own joke. “No other aspect of you is remotely close to sweet, after all.”

Pi scowled animatedly, shattering the beaker in his hands from how hard he’d gripped it. “I won’t answer to a name given by a simpleton.”)

“Pi, clean the mess you made in the fume cupboard! Some of us have organic lungs that can’t handle toxic fumes, you know!”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” he snapped back, then slunk off to do as you’d told him when you weren’t looking.

The youngest of the segments, who barely reached your waist and had yet to even speak in your presence, had taken to trotting after you wherever in the lab you went, weaving between your legs and staring up at you with wide eyes half-hidden by a mop of messy blue hair. You’d come immensely close to tripping more than once, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scold him at all, instead nudging him out of the way like a cat sitting in the middle of the hallway. The segments were helpful enough, even if you’d been talked back at more times that day than your entire career as a lab technician in the Akademiya supervising young recruits, and by the time you were contemplating the prospect of heading to the dining hall for a bite to eat everything was in order; reagents alphabetically stored in their cabinets, counters wiped and glassware washed, even the enormous, curved windows were polished to a high shine. You spared them an approving look as you walked past, arms laden with bottles of (carefully separated) acidic and basic waste, admiring the aerial view of the snowy forest below, draped over the mountainside like a shaken-out blanket. The young segment was still tailing you, a lollipop you’d fished out from one of your pockets in his mouth; his utter disregard for where he was stepping had put you on your last nerve, but every time you sat him down in a safe corner he’d stare dolefully up at you before reappearing in your peripheral vision a few moments later. It was a wonder you hadn’t lost your temper, really.

“Epsilon, I can see your reflection in the window,” you pointed out in an unimpressed tone to the segment who’d been on the verge of grabbing your shoulders in an attempt to startle you. He huffed and grumbled, shaking the hair out of his eyes and cheekily tipping the neck of one of the bottles you were carrying as though to let the acid milkshake within, so to speak, spill, then pranced away from your scathing glare with a merry tune on his lips. You didn’t know how the segments seemed so familiar with you, as though they’d known you all their lives; Pi somehow knew how much value you placed on your leather gloves, as he’d threatened to use them for chromium extraction when you didn’t let him take one of your fungi petri dishes, Gamma had off-handedly mentioned how it was a shame your ear piercings had closed up years ago because you couldn’t match with their fluorescent blue test tube earrings, and Theta wordlessly handed you a pile of the expensive cider wood parchment you preferred to use and hurried away before you could say anything. It was baffling, to say the least, but you appreciated the extra help. It meant you could skip off to have a rather overdue lunch without fretting over something or other you might have mistakenly left over a Bunsen burner, even if it was strange leaving the lab without the Doctor’s voice criticising your lack of commitment to your education as the door swung shut behind you.

You weren’t even surprised to find Childe outside, leaning against the doorframe and tossing a dagger through the air, letting it flip over itself before catching it once more. When you opened the door, he stumbled into you and the dagger slipped from his hands as he nearly knocked you backward; but in a rare moment of swift reflexes you jumped to the side to snatch it from mid-air before it could stab either of you in the leg, only for Childe to latch onto your cloak as he fell and subsequently landing you on top of him. For a long, drawn-out moment, you just stared at each other; one of your hands pressed to the floor near his head while the other gripped the knife a safe distance above you. You quickly noted two things. One: Childe was bony and being draped over him was overall an uncomfortable experience; the apex of each of his ribs dug sharply into your chest, and two: his eyes were a peculiar, beautiful shade, less like the sea and more like heavy velvet thrown over something that glowed bright and blue, dimmed by the weight of the fabric.

Childe was finding it difficult to process anything other than your closeness. Yes, you were even more breath-taking up close and yes he would’ve given anything to place his hands on your waist and pull you closer still, but he was even more enamoured by the dips and points of your knuckles where your hand gripped the dagger, the creases in your leather gloves around each finger and the oddly calculating look in your eyes as you appraised him. You could stab him, he realised with a rush, staring up at you. You could drive the blade down and lodge it between his ribs and he probably wouldn’t be able to react fast enough because it was you, and his blood would stain your cloak and blouse and a coppery taste would fill your mouth. He wondered if Signora was right, and whether you really would look better in red.

You cleared your throat, breaking the spell, and Childe suddenly noticed all the other tiny little things he probably wouldn’t get close enough to see again. The notion that such things would remain secret almost made him panic, and it took considerable effort not to clutch at you as you rose to your feet and dusted yourself off. You extended your hand to him, and he allowed himself a split second of self-indulgence, the liberty of seeing your outstretched hand reaching towards his collapsed body as something more than it was; he let himself believe that you, so bright and resplendent in your every trait you might as well have been the moon, were offering him, a creature writhing in the darkness, salvation or even just a moment’s respite.

You hauled him up from the floor with a grunt of effort (he couldn’t possibly be as bony as he felt. All that weight had to come from somewhere), then took off your glasses and held them to one of the wavering white lamps, handing him the dagger.

“Hello, Eleven.” You frowned at the new scratches on the lenses and started rubbing them with the hem of your blouse, even if you knew it was a fruitless endeavour. “How long were you waiting out here?”

“Long enough,” he all but whined in response, slinging an arm around your shoulder and ruffling your hair. Your only protest was a half-hearted grumble as you shoved your glasses back on, and his chest warmed with the thought that you no longer instinctively rebuked his touch. “C’mon, Trixy. I didn’t think you were the type to ghost someone after a date.”

“What are you talking ab- oh, for heaven’s sake,” you said exasperatedly, shooting him a look as he walked towards the stairs with you in tow. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

He beamed so widely you nearly stumbled on the steps, blinded by the intensity of his glee.

“So you’re not denying it was a date?”

You sighed out an incredibly inappropriate curse, drowned out by Childe’s hearty laughter.

“You are an incorrigible man.”

“Well you went on a date with this incorrigible man,” he countered cheerfully and not without a healthy dose of smugness. That earned him a withering look, and you detangled yourself from his side as you walked down the corridor.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” you said with a shrug, laughing slightly when he let out an indignant splutter. Childe bristled, trailing after you with an exaggerated pout.

“You should apologise for hurting my feelings, Trixy.” “If I were to apologise every time I bruised your fragile ego I’d never have time to say anything else,” you teased, linking your arm with his and pulling him along. “Now come on, they serve an exquisite pumpkin soup on Wednesdays.”

You wondered at what point you’d become so friendly with the Harbinger, to feel relaxed enough to so casually poke fun at him. Maybe your self-preservation instincts were decaying. Maybe it was worth it.

“I don’t want to see that… Arlie again,” Childe protested. You looked at him sidelong.

“Oh?” You asked, feigning surprise. “Why not?”

Because she outranks me and I don’t like having to share your attention, he thought. “She beat me in a fight once,” he admitted grudgingly. It wasn’t even a lie; that bitter defeat was indeed part of the reason he felt less than ecstatic around her, though the atrocities she’d carried out to become the fourth Harbinger were impactful too.

“Infighting between members of the same organisation should not be the norm,” you stated, shaking your head. “You Fatui are ridiculous.”

Childe laughed, tugging you closer by your linked arms to elbow you in the ribs. “You’re one of us ridiculous Fatui now, remember?”

“I am not!” You protested, affronted, before sighing at the self-satisfied expression on his face and changing the subject. “Tsk. So you refuse to speak to her just because you lost to her once? That’s immature, even for you.”

“No, no, defeat is all part of the battle. I don’t like that she refused a rematch.”

You hummed thoughtfully, chewing over his response.

“So you believe you’d win this time?”

“Maybe,” he replied with a shrug, steering you past the dining hall’s entrance. “It doesn’t matter though, does it?” He continued, as though the idea of combat for the sake of combat was the most normal thing he could possibly conjure. “Sparring with a strong opponent is the real goal. Say, Trixy. Are you any good in a fight?”

You snorted. “I’m a scholar, Eleven, not a warrior. And even if I was, I wouldn’t spar with you.”

His face took on an almost comically wounded expression. “What? Why not?”

“Because I know when I’m outmatched,” you replied dryly, letting him drag you along. A dejected expression you felt compelled to ease fell over his face. “Although I do have passable aim with a bow and arrow,” you reluctantly offered, and the change in his demeanour to unadulterated ecstasy was laughable.

“Really?! You’ve got to show me.”

“What? No, absolutely not.” Your reply was swift and decisive, but Childe was nothing if not meddlesome and persistent.

“No, no, no, you’re not getting out of this,” he jubilantly exclaimed, tightening his hold on your arm as if to prevent you from running off. “We’re going to one of the training grounds right now, and you’re going to do some target practice.”

“I’ll use your bloody head as a target if you don’t drop it, Eleven,” you threatened.

“Great idea, let’s try that too!”

Even as you lamented his utter insanity, Childe steered you to the west wing of the palace where you’d never been before. Upon looking around, you concluded that all forms of combat training happened there; the sound of crashing steel and muffled gunshots, interspersed with the occasional crackling, sloshing or rumbling from what was probably from Vision holders practicing how to utilise their elements in battle. The silver in the walls was twisted into different patterns from what you’d become familiar with, abstract depictions of battles long-past and a whole wall of solemn, important-looking text gleamed almost menacingly, commanding the attention of any who walked past it. From your passable fluency in the Snezhnayan tongue, you deciphered it to be an oath of sorts where the reader swore to carry out a myriad of jovial things such as turning the snowy landscape into a ruby’s facet with the enemies innards or their own, and wreaking havoc within the heavens until it rained scarlet. All in the name of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.

Wow. Bloodthirsty much?

You eyed the oath distastefully, missing how reverently Childe mouthed it as he led you into an empty archery range. Rows of targets stood on the other side, pockmarked and their paint scratched, with a few of them sporting an unfortunate red-brown stain. You were grateful that there was no one there, at least; if you were a little rustier than you remembered then there was no one to witness your mediocrity other than Childe, who was presently looking through the extensive selection of bows and chattering about the various advantages and disadvantages of different models. You riffled through one of the many quivers of arrows scattered haphazardly about, admiring the high-quality steel of the heads. Some of them even had meticulous patterns along their shafts, no doubt hand-painted, and you appreciatively traced a particularly striking golden dragon with tiny, methodical scales spanning the entirety of the arrow, ending at the head where the dragons jaws were open in a roar.

“Well, Trixy? What bow are you going to use?”

You glanced up from the quiver, twirling the dragon arrow between your fingers, eyes skipping over the countless bows laid across the stands. You noted the ones tossed carelessly across them with a disapproving glance, and eventually picked the one that was the most similar to what you remembered using, long-limbed with a straighter taper and made from wood you recognised as Yumemiru from the distinctive diamond-shaped whorls.

“Why that one?” Childe asked, mesmerised by the sight of you in his element with a weapon at your fingertips. What were you thinking about when your hands reached for that particular bow? Did you have any specifications, preferences in regards to size or even the type of wood it was made from? Were your eyes drawn by the faded blue leather wrapped around the handle? Would you prove to be better, smarter, quicker than he was? The thought sent his heart racing and his brain spiralling with the prospect of having you as a competitor, an opponent.

“Does it matter?” You replied with a shrug, testing its weight in your hands. “I’m no expert when it comes to the craftsmanship of weapons. The bow I learned to shoot was probably older than me with a string practically on its last life.” You frowned slightly, looking up at him. “Why do you ask? Is there some sort of technique or guideline I should follow?”

“No, no, don’t worry about doing something wrong,” he reassured, his back to you as he assembled a quiver of arrows. You lowered the bow to stare at him, flabbergasted that he’d so quickly and accurately read the involuntary hesitation in your answer.

“Usually we have beginners start with a compound bow, but you probably have your own inclination by now,” Childe continued, oblivious to your astonishment. “What you’ve got there is a longbow,” he added, tossing you an archery glove. “They’re generally more difficult to master and harder to use.”

You pulled off your glove after making sure his back was still turned before replacing it with the one he gave you, and then picked up the bow again with new interest.

“I see. And yours?” You asked, nodding towards the one he had picked, white wood gracefully curved and narrowed at the tips.

“This one’s a recurve bow. They’re better at close range and generally need more strength to draw.”

Childe couldn’t help but be entranced by your contemplative expression, all furrowed brows and a distant gaze as you took in the new information. He had to agree that you really were a scholar before all else; the pensive look you so often sported might as well have been made to be worn by your features. In your eyes, even an archery range became an experiment, a mystery to untangle. You sighed and turned to face the targets, nocking the arrow and drawing the bowstring back to touch your chin. Childe watched as you adjusted your aim, mentally evaluating your form, then let the arrow fly. He let out a low whistle of appreciation when it hit the centre with a satisfying thunk.

“Clearly your aim is more than just passable,” he remarked with an excited glint in his eye that you didn’t quite like.

“Accuracy is all I have,” you replied with a shrug, lowering the bow and gently pressing your fingers into the indent the bowstring left in your chin, perfectly aligned with the barely-visible scar there. You’d forgotten how tender the skin could get. “I doubt I can still hit a moving target, for one.”

“But you can get the bullseye every time?”

“Not every time,” you corrected, making your way to the target to pull the bow out of the wood. The painted dragon really was a masterpiece, and you took a moment to admire it before heading back to the archers’ stand. Childe grinned and followed after you, bow temporarily forgotten.

“So most times then?” He pressed, trailing closely behind you.

“Where are you going with this, Eleven?”

“I still think we should spar,” he replied brightly, so close he was practically breathing down your neck. “We’ll make it so that if you manage to shoot me even once, I go down, or we could”-

You twisted around to poke his chest with the fletching of the arrow, cutting him off. “No.”

“Please?” He implored, rounding on you whatever direction you turned to avoid him. “Please, please, please?”

“No!” You repeat, louder and with the full force of your irritation. “I’m not dying before I get this damned certificate!”

There was a beat of silence as he stared at you, slightly aghast. “You think I’d kill you?”

“…I don’t think you’d do so on purpose, no,” you conceded, taking out your pocket watch. “But your strength exceeds mine to the point where fearing for my life in a duel wouldn’t be unreasonable.”

“It is unreasonable to assume I’d ever hurt you,” Childe groused, continuing to block your path every time you tried to move past him. “Stop trying to get away,” he added, bending over to pinch your cheek. You stared at him, utterly at a loss for words, then quickly smacked his hand away with an irate grumble.

“I need to get away, I still have lab work to do.”

Childe flapped his hand as if physically shooing away the idea. “You work too hard, Trixy. Take a break.”

“And what do you think this little exercise was?”

“A chance to impress me with your archery skills, of course,” he replied without missing a beat, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. You rolled your eyes with a quiet huff of laughter, pushing past him, and he dutifully followed after you.

“You’re not very difficult to impress, are you?” You teased back.

Only when it comes to you, he thought wistfully.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

taglist:

@viridian-coffer, @vvzhyxx, @darifes, @whore-of-many-hot-men

@aenishas, @lovel3tter, @randomidk-123, @autistic-deer

@luvenus702, @zoriaisasimp, @ra404, @crownohomo

@diamondcookie45

if i missed you somehow please message me directly, bold means i’m having trouble tagging you! to be added or removed please comment on the masterlist post of this series <3

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mawlaeina · 2 months

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YOUR BIRTHDAY GIFT | SAGAU Childe

🍊 content: SAGAU! Childe x Reader extended?

✦ content w: none, it’s too plain to be fluff or anything else

Ah, it’s that day again.

You never really celebrated your birthday that much—it’s just like any other day when you’ve thought about it.

Instead, you spend your time on other things. You clean the house, you do your chores, read a few pages of a book on your TBR pile, and similar stuff.

You do all those just so you can make yourself feel a little bit better when you log in on Genshin Impact, that way the guilt of not being productive doesn’t hit you as much as it does on most days—you think of it as saving yourself from getting a bad mood when you play the game on your birthday.

Now, when you log into the game, you immediately go through the mail since the devs were kind enough to reward players on their birthdays.

However, this time your mail does not only contain the gifts from the devs, but also a gift from… Childe?

You had to read the name and content twice, then thrice. You seemingly couldn’t believe it.

Five hundred thousand mora and his specialty dish—A Prize Catch.

That’s… Odd…

Usually, you’d only get these kind of mails during his birthday. Though you later shook your head and began to think that it probably came with one of the updates of the game. Maybe the devs added a new feature during the last update.

You claimed the rewards first before reading his letter.

——————————————————

Happy Birthday

Sender: Childe

Time/Date: [Your Birthday]

I have to admit, I’m not really talented when it comes to baking—which is something that I’ll work on and improve in the future with Tonia’s guidance.

Teucer and I made a mess in the kitchen earlier and my mother wasn’t quite happy about it—I apologized of course! She told me that cakes aren’t necessarily needed to be given during birthdays, so I decided to make my special dish instead—oh, and the reason I call it “A Prize Catch” is because Octopuses are hard to catch at the cold docks here in Snezhnaya. Luckily though, I managed to catch one for you!

Just giving you a single dish doesn’t seem to sit right with me for some reason, so I decided to put in some money so you could buy what you want on your birthday instead—in case you didn’t like my special dish. It’s not much but hopefully it’s enough, it’s my first time doing something like this for you but I’ll make sure you’ll receive a cake by your next birthday.

Also, I’m thankful for the letters that you write to me on my birthday. Cheers comrade!

——————————————————

✦ because yes, I love him

✦ I’m a bit drunk as I wrote this

✦ 500k mora is just change to Pantalone, don’t worry

✦ a minor continuation to BIRTHDAYS | SAGAU! Childe, it was supposed to be longer but I ran out of plot to think

#childe #ajax #tartaglia #genshin impact childe #genshim impact tartaglia #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin sagau #self aware genshin alternate universe #self aware genshin #self aware childe #self aware tartaglia #birthdays #bad writing #but i love him #im drunk #on his love eyyy

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serendipityandbenevolence · 7 months

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Arlecchino x GN Reader (SAGAU)

I kinda can’t believe that I’ve written 3 fanfics in 24 hours, after not writing for a year, but idk. I’m motivated and don’t have much else to do (except ignoring my bio homework) (send help, what the hell is osmosis?) I thought about writing for Pantalone next, but @nervouseaglelover requested Arlecchino and I am nothing if not a people pleaser. This may be ooc, but idk SAGAU is nothing if not ooc if we’re being honest. I’m starting this at 6'o clock my time, so hopefully it’ll be done by 9 or 10, if I’m being productive.

Contains - Arlecchino girlbossing, gaslighting and gatekeeping you, her being obsessed with you, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Dottore's head collection (don't ask, it came to me in a dream), tartaglia being beat up by Arlecchino for the second time in this series

Part one is here - the masterlist for the other endings is here

“Arlecchino?”

If you were being entirely honest, you expected a little more … decorum when you had called for Arlecchino. Not the veritable swarm of Harbingers that appeared in your doorway, the moment her name had left your mouth. All of the Harbingers, excluding the one whose name you had uttered.

Tartaglia was at the front of the pack, to little surprise, with his eyes bright with curiosity and a liveliness you rarely saw through a screen. Tucked away to the side was Pantalone, who looked far more … weary than you had expected. His eyes, compared to Tartaglia’s, were bloodshot and dull, with an aura of tiredness radiating off him. You could faintly see the silhouettes of who you assumed to be Capitano and Pierro in the back, looming over the others, and Signora, who stood tall behind Tartaglia, eyes fixed coldly upon you.

You waited, expecting someone to explain why they were ominously standing in your doorway, eyes silently surveying you. But no explanation came and no more movements were made, they seemed almost fixed in your doorway, as though they were waiting for something from YOU.

“Arlecchino?”

You repeated her name again, craning your neck to see if she was merely hidden behind one of her coworkers, concealed by her taller companions. But she did not appear, and you were beginning to wonder if she was not there at all.

Until a perfectly manicured hand reached through the flock of Harbingers and firmly gripped Tartaglia by his hair, dragging him away from the doorway as she stepped into his place.

“Tartaglia, it is awfully rude to be lingering in the doorway like that, not even bothering to greet Their Grace. Such impoliteness does not make a good first impression.”

Arlecchino’s sweetly poisoned words broke the silence, inspiring a string of curses from the 11th Harbinger and some muffled laughter from what sounded like the Balladeer, although you could not see him to confirm. But Arlecchino ignored them and turned to you, eyes soft and yet … hungry. Possessive.

“You called for me, Your Grace? How may I be at your service?”

Her honeyed words and dark eyes had you entranced, almost unable to speak, to respond to her question.

“Oh, I was just wishing to speak to you…”

Arlecchino’s smile widened and she stepped into your room, spinning to address her fellow Harbingers.

“Well, you heard Their Grace. I will be … conversing with them, so please give us some privacy. I’m certain that you all can find something else to do with your time, rather than stand here awkwardly.”

The crack of her slamming the doors in the other Harbingers faces made you jump, but you barely had time to process it before Arlecchino started prowling towards you. Her smile was friendly, but the darkness in her eyes remained, making you nervous. At least, that’s what you assumed those feelings were.

“Oh, Your Grace, look at your hair! It must have gotten all matted while you were resting. Here, let me fix it for you.”

“Huh? My hair feels fi-”

Your words were abruptly cut off as Arlecchino sat down on the side of your bed, tugging you towards her as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pressing your back to her chest. One of her hands made its way to your head, but rather than attempting to fix any knots that may or may not exist, she just tucked your hair behind your ears.

“Your Grace, I understand that you may be worried about those heretics who attempted to take your life. I would like to assure you that you are perfectly safe and that I am ensuring you will never have to worry about them ever again.” She whispered softly into your ear.

Still caught up with the whiplash of the hair, to the hugging, to the thinly veiled threats of murder, you found yourself rather unable to form a coherent response, instead choking out a rather unintelligent sounding ‘mhm’. But Arlecchino didn’t seem to mind, instead giggling softly at your lack of a response.

“I’m glad to see that you are … unbothered by your attackers. My children are hard at work making sure you are kept safe, but knowing that you are already at ease makes me a little less concerned for you.”

“Your children? Do you mean the children of the House of the Hearth?” You finally managed to ask, only just now able to form meaningful sentences again.

“Indeed, you are very intelligent, Your Grace! My children are fetching the heads of your attackers as we speak, bless their hearts. My children are very devoted to you, I hardly even needed to make the suggestion to track down those pieces of scum. I have a great many heads already, if you wish to see them? I have made sure that they are well preserved, so you can gaze upon the mostly intact heads of your enemies without the fear of them beginning to smell.”

“Oh! That’s … uhm … very kind of you? I don’t think I need to see any heads though?”

“Very well then, I will give them to Dottore to add to his collection. I’m sure he will find them a rather pleasant gift, although perhaps not as nice as being able to slay your enemies in person.”

While trying to cope with the second round of emotional whiplash in the last 5 minutes, mostly due to the unwanted knowledge of the fact that the Doctor has a HEAD COLLECTION, you turned to Arlecchino, hoping to inquire more about her ‘children’.

But instead, you found her staring at you with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

“Your Grace.”

“Arlecchino?”

She leaned in close to you, so your faces were only inches apart. You would have thought it was romantic if her eyes were not quite so severe.

“I am a Harbinger. But I am a devotee to you, first and foremost. So, should the need ever arise … Say the word and I will kill any of them.”

“Pardon?” You managed to choke out.

“You heard me, Your Grace. Say the word and I will kill any Harbinger, any Archon, any human or beast that you wish.”

Arlecchino kept eye contact with you for only a moment longer, before smiling and releasing you from her grasp, standing as she did so.

“I believe I hear Pierro calling for me. Forgive me, Your Grace, I must leave you to rest now.”

“But I don’t hear anyone calling for you?”

“Oh? Maybe you were not listening hard enough?” She smiled sweetly and made her way to the door, her lingering words all that remained of her, despite your hurried pleas for her to stay.

“Sweet dreams, Your Grace.”

I actually wrote this in less then 2 hours, I’m lowkey impressed with myself. I know the ending is kinda rushed and vague, but i also totally see Arlecchino gaslighting you like that to get out of a convo. I had a really good time writing this, so I hope yall have a good time reading this! Probably Pantalone next? Idk, we’ll see. I’ve learned not to make promises about my writing anymore.

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #sagau x reader #yandere genshin #genshin headcanons #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin

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teabutmakeitazure · 2 years

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The Dresser

What the yan Genshin boys like the most about their darling's products

Characters included: Childe, Diluc, Zhongli, Alhaitham, Pantalone

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Childe: Your fruit flavoured chapsticks just have him absolutely weak in the knees. Whenever he talks to you, his eyes are always fixed on your lips. He knows about the scent and he knows damn well that if he dives in for a kiss, he will lick your lips clean of the product all the while smugly looking you in the eye. Despite your initial disgust to the action, you've become somewhat numb to it since it's happened so many times. Safe to say he isn't above applying the chapsticks himself before kissing you to catch you off guard. What can be say? He's a simple guy.

Diluc: Hair ties. That's it. He knows that the both of you use them which makes it ten times more intimate. He sometimes switches the ones you use with the ones he does, finding sharing them to be intimate. Don't question why they sometimes go missing. He just mixes them up at times, that's all. He's also often tempted to ask you if he could tie your hair. If you refuse, he's ever the gentleman. Doesn't mean he won't take the chance to brush away a few stray strands whenever he gets the chance.

Zhongli: All those different hair sticks are there for a reason. Said reason being always having your hair up so that he can have a view of your nape at all times. Another more secret one is that when he's in the mood, he can simply pull the stick and easily undo your hair in one swift motion. The surprised expression on your face is just an extra treat for the manhandling you're about to go through. The way your hair sometimes cascades down to spill over has him enchanted. No wonder he never lets you put your hair up on the rare outings you have. It's a sight only for him.

Alhaitham: Lipsticks are his weakness, but not on anyone, no no. He gets the very specific rush of blood when he sees the pigment on your lips. There's no known way for him to understand why he has the urge to swipe his thumb to smudge it. All he knows is that he must, even if it means rubbing it off entirely lest any other man see you with it. If he of all people can have this kind of urge, who knows what someone else can have? Can't have someone else fantasising about what's his, now can he?

Pantalone: Eyes are the windows to the soul, as they say, and he agrees. One look into your eyes is all it takes for the harbinger to know what you're feeling. So it doesn't come as a surprise when his favourite is your eye makeup. The way you bat your eyelashes at him when you have a request to make is why he so specifically filled your dresser with various eye products. He's more than willing to teach you if you refuse to use any with the excuse of not knowing how. At least now you know that to get his favour, all you have to do is give him the doe eyes.

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newtpootsworld · 1 year

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I have no idea what I’m doing on tiktok so enjoy my shenanigans lmaooo

#clone high #clone high s1 #clone high jfk #clone jfk #cosplay #trans cosplayers #pantalones productions

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heizours · 2 years

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KISS IT BETTER

summary. the greatest lengths, that he is willing to do for you

tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur

cw. scara's leak voicelines regarding ei, implied torture in dottore's part, kaeya lore spoilers (?), just those and over all a pure fluff abt what are this genshin men willing to do for you <3

feat. childe, albedo, pantalone, ayato, kaeya, scaramouche, dottore, diluc, zhongli, kazuha, cyno

CHILDE ── he never stops talking about you in front of his family. everytime he comes home to them, he would start going on and on about how such an amazing and loving significant other you are, and his family didn't have the heart to interrupt him because every word and confession that leaves from his lips, are all genuine and pure from his heart. the only way you will find out about this, is when he brings you to meet them for the first time, and in an instant his parents and his siblings are all smitten by you.

ALBEDO ── he has a journal dedicated to you, consisting of the little things and habits about you, when is your birthday, what are your likes and dislikes, the date of your anniversary, the promises he had noted while being in a relationship with you, such memories that he managed to capture and so on. sometimes, it would come to a point where he's starting to not mind of reading every single page of the book, over and over again - if you ever catch him doing it, he will just swiftly reply "well, i just find this more interesting and eye catching. do you want to read it with me?."

PANTALONE ── he spends all his fortune on you, whenever the both of you are out on dates and something catches your eye for more than 0.1 second, that product is in your hands in an instant. you, at least tried to tell him to lessen down his habit of buying everything for you when he almost bought a whole island meant for you, but all he ever tells you is "what should i do with this mora then? darling, this fortune isn't worthy to me when i have someone as you."

AYATO ── he will boldly break and reject countless arrange marriages for you. sure, it is his obligation to get married, but to be paired with someone he couldn’t see as his significant other? he would rather dispose it, than let his marriage suffer just like how his childhood was. why would he look for more if he has someone as perfect as you? if they prefer to not listen to his pleas, then so be it. he would cross that line for you, even if it takes for some of the citizens to turn their backs on him - after all, it’s you and him against the world. yes? right.

KAEYA ── he will always choose you, over both mondstadt and khaenri'ah without a single hesitation. sometimes, he just couldn't handle the pressure in his shoulders, that there will come a time that he will have to choose between his homeland and the nation he had considered where he lived in - that is until he met you. suddenly, his whole perspective of life changes and his mind was now unexpectedly on set. he had decided - if he can run away, then he would, with you and would live in a far away land where only the two of you would live in it and grow old together.

SCARAMOUCHE ── he is willing to change himself for you, to the point that he would take the risk to reset himself. resetting himself, where he would be back to his old wandering self again after being told to roam around, as free as he wishes like how his creator and mother told him. if he is going to do that, then he doesn't mind one bit - if it means that he's going to be destined to meet you again, but this time under normal circumstances.

DOTTORE ── he orders his clones to always keep an eye on you. knowing that he is always hibernating in his lab doing who knows what, he can't always be by your side all the time. if ever danger comes to you, that is too close from his liking, he would not hesitate to order his clones to protect you from it, and bring the said danger to him in an instant, who even had the audacity to lay a single finger on you. maybe, they would be the perfect test subjects for this mind blowing experiment he had decided to work on?

DILUC ── he would ask your parents' consent first before courting you, and he is more than prepared to prove himself worthy of being titled as your lover. he would also proclaim that you also do not have to rush yourself in answering him, he is willing to wait even if it takes forever. because if he could? then he would.

ZHONGLI ── he can give you the 5 love languages. words of affirmation? you bet, he's going to put a whole power point presentation on why he loves you so much. physical touch? he can be not clingy at all times, but expect lingering and soft touches with him every now and then. receiving gifts? he keeps every single gift you are giving him, whether it's considered to be given on a special or an ordinary day. quality time? this man is fit to be a househusband, he's going to give you all the quality time that you need when you are in need of one. acts of service? he's a gentlemen, and you bet he won't let you lift a finger.

KAZUHA ── he will not raise his voice at you when the both of you, are in an argument. he would scold you, but in a calm, gentle and soft spoken manner - and the respect and love for you is still there. he would point what was your mistake in that certain situation, but would also make sure that every word that comes out from him, wouldn't struck a nerve in your side or would do anything to make you more upset than it is.

CYNO ── he will take some time to explain what does his jokes mean. for other people, he just complains about how they can't understand the jokes that comes out from him, but for you? he'll spend hours and hours just so you can get it. and if he makes you smile or laugh in the slightest because of it? it miraculously cures the tiredness that he had endured all day long.

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morose-melodies · 2 years

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hi! i hope you’re having a great thanksgiving. i was wondering if you could maybe do a drabble where capitano and pantalone (seperate) have a lover who sleeps all the time

counting sheep | capitano x reader / pantalone x reader

content warning: none.

(sorry for taking so long to make this :))

"happy to see you," you mumbled from the comforts of your bed, your body wrapped in thick blankets to protect yourself from the cold draft coming in.

capitano grunted in response before making his way to the closet, where he would change and lie down for the night.

as capitano removed his armor, he thought about you. how was your day? did you stay in the bedroom all day? did you eat anything? did you miss him?

once capitano entered the bedroom once again, you were fast asleep on the bed, your arms stretched out as you lay there, softly breathing.

capitano sat on the edge of the bed and rested his hand on your head, causing you to stir and wake up. you pushed yourself away from capitano to give him more space.

he moved further onto the bed and laid down beside you. once he was comfortable you scooted towards him and rested your head against his chest and his arm wrapped around you.

you went limp seconds later, your eyes closed and your body close to his. capitano held you closer to himself and ran his finger across your cheek and neck, repeatedly.

you were a light sleeper but made up for the lost sleep by sleeping throughout the day. it took some getting used to for capitano because he wasn't used to such a lack of activity in his free time.

but he got used to it- silently spending time with you, though it was one-sided. he would hold you in his arms, run fingers across your skin, and press his cheek against yours, to feel the heat from your body going onto his.

it wasn't long before you woke up though, twisting and turning in capitano's arms until you were on your side, your back against his chest.

he shifted, his arms adjusting around you as he pulled you closer to himself. you took hold of his hand and closed your eyes once again.

your grip on his hand tightening as you drifted off to sleep once again.

PANTALONE

"get up, (y/n), being lazy will get you nowhere," pantalone pulled a blanket from over your body, which gained a groan from you as you turned onto your side and wrapped your arms around your body.

"(y/n)," pantalone pinched your thigh, once, twice, and then one last time, you shifted away from you, groaning. "look out the window, it's bright and early, it's time for you to get up, (y/n)."

"I have nothing to do, no work, unlike you. so let me rest," you mumbled into your pillow, while using one had to reach for the blanket pantalone pulled off of you.

"even so, get up. be productive, make yourself breakfast, read a book, make a snowman, (y/n), do anything." pantalone took hold of your hand and pulled you up so that you were sitting up.

"..." you frowned, as you looked up at pantalone, "don't frown, (y/n)-"

you got up and went into the bathroom and pantalone heard the shower start. he smiled to himself as he left the bedroom, satisfied with himself.

...

"(y/n), are you not done with your shower yet? its been an hour and a half." pantalone knocked on the bathroom door and gained no response.

he sighed as he reached for the doorknob, expecting it to be locked but the door opened. pantalone looked into the bathroom, "(y/n)?"

he took a step in and looked around, and to his surprise, you were asleep, on the toilet.

pantalone's eye twitched.

he kneeled in front of you and tapped your leg until you woke up, seemingly dazed and confused as you looked around, "what? what are y-"

"(y/n), why were you sleeping in the bathroom? with the water running?" pantalone sighed as he stood up, bringing you up with himself.

"come with me, you'll be my assistant for the next few days, so now you'll have something to wake up for." pantalone smiled.

#capitano x reader #capitano #the capitano agenda #fatui harbingers #fatui harbingers x reader #reader x pantalone #pantalone #pantalone x reader #capitano x y/n #capitano x you #pantalone x you #pantalone x y/n

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cakerollk · 1 year

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new fontaine oc dropped

His name is Delphinium, 'Phin' for short. he is an amalgamation of jack the ripper, elizabeth bathory and Grenouille (perfume making of a murderer)

He works closely with flowers and plants to make his products BUT his secret ingredients are human body parts mainly skin, blood and bone marrow ala alchemy and he only abducts beautiful young people :)

fun extra: -Pantalone is one of his regulars, the perfume he uses for his letters are all made by Phin (no the regrator doesnt know whats really in the perfume) -He doesn't target children. Genuinely he is fond of them, but also in his own words "their beauty have yet to fully bloom”. -Originally from Mondstadt. the Knights never could catch him.

#genshin impact #genshin oc #karol kraft

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lonely-vault-boy · 2 years

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Judging tall Genshin guys based on their shower routine

Dottore:

- not playable, doesn’t matter

- he smells like motor oil and chemicals

- he probably showers when Pantalone refuses to let him into the bed covered in blood

- that’s about it

Pantalone:

- very looong bubble baths (with candles and everything)

- fanciest shit from every nation and he uses like a single drop bc it’s expensive and therefore precious to him

- bottles not labeled very well, Dottore washed his hair with deodorant at least twice

Al Haithem:

- unscented bodywash/shampoo

- industrial sized, so he doesn’t have to interact with anybody at the store

Kaveh:

- whatever Al Haithem buys

- has some super sweet smelling lotion tho

Itto:

- real men don’t use soap

- does not wash between ass cheeks

- despite not believing in soap, he owns 7 different bottles of hair products that he uses daily

- Shinobu made him buy soap

Diluc:

- normal unscented bar soap

- shampoo that’s some flavor of man scented or something (it’s called Righteousness and Kaeya and Venti laugh about it constantly)

Childe:

- walks around smelling like a goddamn fruit basket

- despite being a living weapon, he’s pretty consistent with his routine bc “something something a warrior must look after their body etc etc”

- really likes citrusy scents (hence smelling like a fruit basket)

- rumor has it that a treasure hoarder in debt to the bank once walked into a farmer’s market and started crying in front of a barrel of oranges

Thoma:

- gets all of his stuff for free, so it’s not super consistent

- not bc he’s completely broke, ppl just love to help out Thoma when he compliments them and give him free products

- nobody loves the way he smells more than the critters

Ayato:

- if elegance was a scent, that’s what he’d smell like

- probably vaguely reminiscent of clean linens

- doesn’t know what he uses, his servants buy stuff and draw the bath for him

Kaeya:

- probably smells like aftershave and wine

- but in a fresh way

- also follows a consistent skincare routine, but occasionally forgets to take off his eyeliner before bed

Zhongli:

- “the water must be the perfect temperature, lightly scented with petals of…”

- “it’s a bath, Zhongli. Not soup.”

- very particular, but not very consistent

- uses it as more of a relaxing activity than to actually clean himself

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luciddreamingcrow · 2 years

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"The Tsaritsas Painter"

Sumery: After the reader being exiled from their former art school the Tsaritsa takes a great interest in them becoming their painter for a eternity

Btw im sorry if there will be any spelling mistakes, since english isnt my first language!

Genere: Fluff, bit occ or occ in general, first impresions and how they realized they like you/how the relationship stars,light angst in la signoras part!

Characters included: Pantalone, Sandrone, Dottore, La Signora, Tartaglia.

Prologe

Reader was onese a respected art student and was considered one of the best in the region, heavenly praised for their talent and unique way of painting, executing and representing the final products message but after studying about the heavenly principles in Sumerus Academia they realized that the principles that they were made to follow and submit to were flawed and corrupt, resulting in them to represent that belief into their drawings and quote on quote ruining the art schools reputation resulting them getting banned from the art school that they studied in because on their controversial views of the heavenly principles and how they were against them, later on these "rumors" spread to Snezhnaya, wich lead to reader being commissioned by the Tsaritsa herself, not to create more of those paintings that brought nothing but chaos, but portraits, more specificly for the harbingers, knowing that because of their similar believes, they'll get along just fine.

Pantalone

First impressions/meeting:

Pantalone was the first one to getting his portrait because he didn't need to move around as much as the other harbingers, spending more time on filling in documents in the fatuis headquarters, the first time he saw reader it was when they were at their studio, tiding up the plase before he had to pose for his portrait and he was really happy to meet the troublemaking artist and in his nature he teased them about it, making pointless remarks just to start a convo with them (of course not having the intention to insult them, rather to start a convo with them about their interst, where they are from ect, just to get them more comfortable and let loose) By the end of the first section the two of you would have small talk while you paint, creating a nice comfortable environment for the bought of you.

How they realized they like you/How the relationship started:

Tbh it started of small, from caching you making small doodles of him during "important meetings" and of course teasingly commenting about it later, to admireing you working on his portrait, by the time you started to run out of supplies he would buy new ones for you with twice the quality, leaving small pouches with "a tiny bit" of mora alongside with a note saying to buy yourself something nice （^__^ ) and sometimes he would let you relax into his office when commissions and painting gets you overworked. It would be one of those days where you were burned out and while Pantalone was comforting you with his soothing voice, he let his confession slip hopping for his compliments and gifts to mean something more than just him being polite

Sandrone

First impressions/ meeting:

She really didn't have time for anything besides her work, she was always concentrated in the construction of her next machinery and other working on big progects, and having to pose for more than a hour at least onece a day didn't really excited her all that much seeing it as a waste of time and often felt frustration that she couldn't do something more productive, but after some time after getting familiar with your presence and the studio, she didn't held a grudge against you for that long, and she even started looking forward to the next painting section, now seeing it as a opportunity to take a break from her work and started to enjoy your company.

How they realized they like you/How the relationship started:

After the portrait was done, she yearned your presence even though at first Sandrone did everything to ignore it but atlas she found herself in your studio more oftentimes than she would like to admit, and after some time she would invite you over in her office so she can do something productive while still enjoying your company, she would ask you to review some of her beta designs on some of the machinery she worked on, asking what you liked, disliked, what would you change because to her you are the artist and have a better understanding on what looks more appealing. Sometimes you would be the one working on some of the beta designs and after they were done she would name them after you and that was a way of her saying that she genuinely likes you.

Dotore

First impressions/meeting:

Similar to Pantalone he was really excited to meet you, and whats a better way to introduce himself by showing off his office and all the questionable experiments hes working on, of course even though he wouldn't experiment on you (even if he wanted too) he still would be making jokes of you being his next patient to experiment on, but whenever he would pose for the portrait Dottore would admire the other creations on your studio genuinely interested whast the meaning and story behind them letting you ramble about them for hours on end.

How they realized they like you/How the relationship started:

He would send one or two of his clones to "borrow" some of your works in progres so whenever you would look out for them he would claim that he knows here they are, but he would tell you only give them to you, only if you accompany him from some time and that time being around a hour or so, or he would drag you to a meeting that he doesn't really feel like going so he can watch you draw on your sketchbook. Whenever he would have to go to a expedition Dottore always makes sure to buy exclusive vases, items, statues for them to be drawn by you, though sometimes he wishes if he could be the center of your new masterpieces.

La signora

First impressions:

Amused but impressed to say the leased, she would suddenly look and admire the way your hands flew acros the paper, sketching whenever you were uninterested in a meeting and it became a habit of hers to make sure you were sitting besides her so she could watch you draw, and always kept a loving and gentle look despite her judgmental personality.

How they realized they like you/How the relationship started:

The time she would realize that she saw you more than just entertainment its when you'd give her a small but genuine compliment while you were making her portrait, and for context she knows that she looks good but having someone say it with a sense of honesty and genuine intend, just made her heart warm, but also this sensation made her dizzy, she felt like she was drowning but in the best way possible, and from this day on Signora chased that rush you gave her, always wanting just a little more. And by that she frequently took you to walks on forbidden parts of Snezhnaya for you to take inspection, took you to expensive dinners to discuss "fatui related plans", etc. Before she had to go to Inazuma Signora gave you a gift, a companion, more specifically a fire moth made by her own hands to keep you company and she made a promise that shell come back as soon as possible. You realized that she was lying when the moth that she gave you, one day became nothing but dust.

Tartalia

First impressions/ meeting:

To be honest, similar to Sandrone, hes not that hyped about it since he travels a lot it would be more tiering to have another person with him but Childe didn't dare to exprese it, because he didn't want to make you fell uncomfortable or unwanted. Of course he wound be the one that decidet on a schedule that would be comfortable for the bought of you.

How they realized they like you/How the relationship started:

You two of you would spend time mostly in Liyue because of his packed schedule , and when he had free time he would insist to get you to dinner cuz " You most likely have been eating the same cheap food sience you joined that art school of yours and I might as well get you something good while you are here with me^^". Tbh at that moment you felt SO blessed cuz he was so damn right, in your first dinner together you mostly talked about surface level things because he wanted to let you eat in pease after not having a proper meal for ages. For the rest of the "dinners" he took you in, you mostly sketched and practiced his facial features for the portrait while he talked about adventures that he had with his siblings, latter on, you would most likely start commenting on some of his features that you havent noticed until that moment, and like the first time you casualy compliment him, he was in shock because hes so used to him being complented for his strength and battle skills basically hes being complimented for being a weapon for others to use, but when you complimented HIM and not hes capabilities, he felt his heart skipping a beat while hes face started going red, and from that moment on he doesn't think that you being alongside his isn't that bad after all.

A/n: OMG Ive had this fanfinc in my notes for SO LONG, because I wanted to write abb all of the harbingers in one go, but I eventually burned myself out so yeaaaah, if yall want a part two just tell me, tbh Im glad that I had the urge to finnish this in 1 am cuz Im so tierd of seeing this fanfic in my notes, but I love it so much omg, also Im having the time of my life learning 3d modeling in blender and crying over it in 5am 😎

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