#platonic genshin impact x reader

[stellar-skyy]

FAMILY (OF SORTS) — Platonic Fatui Harbingers & reader.

i. SUMMARY: The Fatui Harbingers have a soft spot for Arlecchino's child. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, headcanons, fluff, parent!arlecchino, house of the hearth!reader, all of the harbingers are reader's weird aunts and uncles, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.6k words. iv. A/N: the fatui are just a dysfunctional found family and i will die on this hill. shoutout to @romaritimeharbor for listening to my rambles about this idea 🫶🫶 also pierro and pulcinella aren't here because i could not think of anything to write for them :')

All of the harbingers knew about Arlecchino’s child; the one that appeared in Fatui Headquarters stuck to her side, eyes cast to the floor. They all saw the way that Arlecchino had held a soft grip on their shoulder, guiding them through the halls with the gentle touch of a parent from the gentle hands of a monster.

The Knave always swore she didn’t play favourites, but from an outside view it was clear that they held a special place separate from the rest. Anyone could see the way they appeared so much more frequently by her side. They were permitted to sit in on meetings, following her like a shadow. Some of the Harbingers guessed that she had picked them to be her successor; that their frequent shadowing was training them to take over once she was gone. Others joked about Arlecchino’s apparent soft side taking over. Whatever the reason, time went on, and the Fatui saw more and more of them.

All of them varied in their opinions of them—some indifferent, some fond—but the Harbingers all cared for them in their own ways.

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Columbina simply adores them. They’re just so small and cute, so tiny and fragile! Admittedly, her idea of ‘tiny’ is rather skewed—applying to anyone she deems weaker than her (notably, this label also gets given to Capitano and Tartaglia, despite their larger size and physical strength. The Damselette is truly an enigma.)

Whenever Arlecchino allows her to watch over them, she is delighted. She has a penchant for pet names, so ‘angel’, ‘my sweet’, and ‘lovely’ are all more commonly used than their name. Sometimes there’s a ‘baby’ or ‘bub’ if she’s feeling particularly affectionate, but no matter the name, it is always dripping with sweetness. She’ll sing to them too, to calm them down or get them to sleep. Her voice is gentle, laced with as much love as she would show her own child.

Some Fatui believe Columbina is a woman formed from hollow sweetness; that behind the lazy smile and soft voice, lies a callous and unfeeling heart, but her insistence on singing them to sleep comes from a place of genuine affection.

When they have to return home, she’ll kiss their cheeks and sweep them into a hug, making them promise to visit her soon.

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The fact that Arlecchino would tear out his throat with her bare hands if he dared to look at them the wrong way is the only thing stopping Dottore from roping [Name] into one of his experiments. Even then, he can’t help but investigate them a bit. Nothing extreme—please put the knife down, Knave—just some simple trials to see how they work. A quick strength assessment, a test of their reflexes, enough to judge the effectiveness of the House of the Hearth’s training.

The segments all had different opinions of them, varying from Prime’s general indifference to some of the younger segments fondness towards them. The latter were less likely to try to trick them into the lab—not that Arlecchino would allow them anywhere near it without strict supervision—and instead focused their efforts on convincing them to help mess with the rest of the Dottores. They proved to be an excellent partner in crime to thoroughly ruin the older segment’s day.

Despite his assertion that he won’t harm them, Dottore tends to be the one Arlecchino trusts least around her child. His unwillingness to get on her bad side doesn’t stop her from insisting Columbina or herself accompany them whenever they visit his lab.

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Tartaglia loves them. The days he gets to see his siblings are few and far between, so he’s always eager to play the older brother for them, and for any other House of the Heath kids that stop by. In fact, whenever any of the children visit, he makes sure to buy them plenty of sugary treats and candies before quickly sending them back to their Father.

(Arlecchino was not happy the first time this happened. It didn’t stop him from doing it every time, though.)

He was the first to convince them to call him Uncle, a feat that he bragged about to the rest of the Harbingers. This small incident would inadvertently lead to a petty competition to see who their favourite is, an event that would quickly spiral out of control with bribery and promises coming from all sides.

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Sandrone is very particular with who she allows in her workshop. When the rare guest was allowed inside, they had to follow three simple rules: do not touch anything, do not move unless I tell you to, and do not talk to me while I work. When [Name] first stumbled into the room, she was prepared to discourteously shoo them out the way she did whenever Tartaglia poked his head in to see what she was working on. But after some extensive begging, she relented and sat them down in a corner to watch her work. 

Even if she is far less fond of them as some of the other Harbingers, she still audibly squeaked the first time she was called Aunt Sandrone. This was covered up with a cough, but nothing could stop the warmth blooming in her chest. It was the first time a living creature had addressed her with such a familial title; some of her synthetic creations had a habit of calling her Mother, but this was a living, breathing person.

After they started calling her that, she quietly told them they were free to visit when she was working—provided they did not interfere with anything. 

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As much as he denies it, Scaramouche has a big soft spot for kids. He’ll swear up and down that he doesn’t care for them at all, but he treats them noticeably gentler than he treats any other member of the Fatui. Arlecchino once caught them huddled against him, using his wide-brimmed hat to shelter from the rain. She never let him forget that moment—the fearsome Balladeer, who notoriously never let anyone close enough to touch him, allowing her child to use him as an umbrella.

They remind him a little too much of the young boy he once considered his family. Whenever he spends time with them, there is something inside that both urges him to protect them in the way he couldn’t protect that child, and warns keep them at arm’s length before they betray him too. But his endearment towards them prevailed, and he begrudgingly allowed them a place in his heart.

Unlike Columbina’s affectionate pet names, the only nicknames Scaramouche gives them are ‘kid’ and ‘brat’, depending on his mood. On good days, they might even get called by their name, though it is a rarity. He cares for them, truly. In his own, strange way.

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Capitano is the best at giving advice out of all the harbingers. He is much more down to earth than Columbina and Dottore, and far less cynical than Scaramouche and Sandrone. He’ll let them ramble about their frustrations freely before offering gentle suggestions on what they should do to help. Even if they aren’t looking for a solution, he’s patient enough to hear out their thoughts, however jumbled and incoherent they may be.

He also likes teaching them skills he deems important for a young person to know. These include cooking—Tartaglia is not allowed to join them in these lessons after he almost burnt down the kitchen trying to ‘help’—as well as sewing and mending clothes.  

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Pantalone never would describe himself as parental. He never cared too much for kids; he hadn’t enough patience to deal with constantly crying babies or needy toddlers. Arlecchino’s child was thankfully far above that age, so they were less unbearable to deal with.

He was quite happy to spoil them with extravagant gifts and treats to win their favour, but the most effective way he does so is simply spending time with them. Trips to luxurious restaurants for lunch, allowing them to shadow him while he works. He also likes to give them advice—completely unasked for—about life, and relationships. Unlike Capitano however, his advice is of a much less helpful; he has a habit of advocating for blackmail for solving problems.

In exchange for a box of the most expensive pastries in Teyvat, he got them to call him their favourite uncle in front of Tartaglia. The miniscule dent in his funds was worth the look of betrayal on the younger Harbinger’s face.

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Signora easily took the longest to warm up to them. When she first met them, it was easy enough to label them as Arlecchino’s brat and move them from her mind. But they kept appearing, in and around the headquarters. At first they were always glued to the Knave’s side, but eventually Signora began to see them wandering alone through the halls. She took note of them—not out of any attachment to them, only out of self-preservation knowing that if Arlecchino found out her child landed themself into trouble while she was close by, it would be her funeral soon.

The sense of obligation faltered when she started to grow fond of them. They were irritatingly innocent, a rarity within the Fatui. Something about the spark in their eyes reminded her of when she was young—when she still had warmth in her heart and blood in her veins. For the first time in centuries, her frozen heart began to thaw with care towards another person, and begrudgingly, she began to accept that they were not as unpleasant as she once believed.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[aviiarie]

Hi avieee! I am making a request this time. So uhm I really really like your that lost & found platonic arle x reader. So I am wondering if you can do a part 2 of that? Like what happens after reader is rescued? The Fontaine trio reactions? Does Arle go into overprotective mama bear mode?

😶‍🌫️

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ AFTERWORD. platonic fonatine siblings, arlecchino & reader !

synopsis. (sequel to lost & found. read that one first.) [name] is reunited with their siblings. contents. PLATONIC. aftermath of kidnapping. gn!reader. they/them pronouns used. fluff. 1k words. notes. i wanted to make this a sort of epilogue, so apologies if it is a little short!

“[Name]!”

Their eyes opened with a flutter, still in a haze halfway between sleep and consciousness. The call of their name was their only warning before they were tackled in their hospital bed by a blur of black and red, crying out in alarm at the sudden weight falling on top of them. In their daze, it took a moment for them to realize who it was.

“L-Lyn—Lyney?” they managed to stammer out, wheezing as he squeezed them in a much too tight hug.

“[Name]! You’re back!” Lyney clasped their face in his hands and peppered kisses to the top of their head, like an overly affectionate grandmother who hasn’t seen their dearest grandchild in years. They shoved at him weakly, rolling their eyes at his over-the-top show of affection. He wasn’t fazed, laughing hoarsely through his tears. “You’re alive. Gods, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“Don’t be a pest, Lyney,” Lynette scolded as she entered the room as well, but she was barely looking at him. Her focus was set squarely on them, tears brimming in her eyes. “[Name]. I am… very relieved you are back.”

“I’m never letting you leave my sight again,” Lyney whispered, pressing his forehead to theirs. There was a shakiness behind his melodramatic display, a fragility behind his theatrics. The experience seemed to have shaken him far more than he was willing to admit. He moved off them, giving them room to breathe as Lynette hurried over to their beside.

“Never,” Lynette promised, settling on their other side. She leaned down to bump her head against the top of theirs, curling her tail around their leg.

“Is there… room in there for me…?” a quiet voice sounded from the doorway. They all looked up, as Freminet nervously knocked on the already opened door.

“Of course, come here!” Lyney stood abruptly, stepping back to make room for Freminet to squeeze in. He slipped into the space between them and Lyney, turning the four of them into something that was partially an awkward huddle, and partially a group hug. Lynette was still on their left, shoulders brushing. Freminet had circled their waist in a clumsy hug with his cheek pressed against their shoulder. And Lyney settled himself on the edge of the bed, draping an arm over the bed board.

“I really don’t think there’s enough room for all of us—” They tried, but Lyney shushed them.

“There’s room enough,” He said, patting their cheek. “And don’t think for a minute you’re getting rid of us so quickly after what happened.”

The siblings all seemed to stiffen up at his mention of the ordeal, himself included. For Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet, it was sharp and clear in their memories, along with the lingering feeling of dread that came with losing one of their own for so long.

But for them, the entire experience was a haze. There was a distant pain throbbing in the back of their head, the phantom feeling of someone hitting them with something hard. Beyond that was a blur between being dumped on the cold, hard floor, and feeling warm hands pull them into a familiar set of arms.

“…Good.” They said quietly, resting their chin atop Freminet’s head. “I don’t want any of you to leave, just yet.”

-----

Arlecchino’s heels clicked loudly, sounding an alarm to all of the children loitering in the halls. After years in her care, they had learned to predict her mood from just the sound of her shoes, and the hurried clacks echoing off the walls told them clear as day that she was not in the mood for anything to interrupt her.

She brushed past the eyes that peeked out from the doorways, vanishing as soon as she grew close. She didn’t care to scold them for being nosy; they didn’t matter to her. There was only one person who mattered in that moment.

When she opened the door, Lyney was the only one that looked to be awake. The other two were curled around [Name], all three fast asleep in a pile of limbs and blankets. Lynette was lying on top of the blankets, one arm thrown over the other two siblings, while Freminet was clinging to [Name]’s waist so tightly that it was a wonder they were still breathing.

They looked like a pile of kittens taking a mid-morning nap together. The sight was endearing enough for the corner of her lips to twitch, almost forming a smile.

Lyney had settled himself in the chair beside them, resting his feet on the edge of the bed. His arm was stretched out to carefully run his hand through their hair, in the same gentle routine he used to help his sister fall asleep when they were young. The sound of the door opening made him look up, and he greeted her with a nod.

“They’re alright?” Arlecchino asked quietly.

“They’re alright.” Lyney answered with a tired smile, pulling his hand back to rest on his lap.

“Good.” She swept into the room, standing over their sleeping form. The blankets hid the majority of their injuries, but there was a flash of white bandages peeking out from where their skin was exposed.

Arlecchino brushed her thumb across their forehead. She knew they most likely were too deeply asleep to hear her, but it didn’t stop her from murmuring, “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you.”

The words made them stir slightly. It was slow at first, a small furrow in their brow and a twitch of their lips, but it was soon followed by a murmur. Their eyes opened a crack, meeting hers.

“Father…?” They mumbled lowly.

“Shh…” Arlecchino hushed them with a whisper, still tracing her thumb across their face. The slow, soothing motion had its desired effect; their eyes were already sliding shut. “Quiet, get some rest. You’re safe now. They won’t ever hurt you again.”

She leaned down and kissed their head, leaving her lips hovering above their skin for a moment to whisper, “Never again.”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[romaritimeharbor]

HEIR. — In which Arlecchino's heir comes home after a tough mission.

— trigger & content warnings. references to violence and other dubious activities. mild blood.

— pairings & notes. fluff. arlecchino & heir!reader. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used). reader is a member of the house of the hearth and is arlecchino's chosen heir. 2.5k words.

— author's thoughts. arlecchino is the best harbinger fr <3

       Being the Knave's heir came with many implications.

       It was, firstly, a role that was never forced upon them; it was more of an offer that Arlecchino extended to them, the child who she felt would make a worthy king and successor should something ever happen to her. It was no obligation—not until they actually inherited her title, that is. Up until that point, they would always be permitted to withdraw. They could withdraw until they literally could not anymore, until they were the director of the House of the Hearth.

       Shackles weighed heavily on their body, growing more difficult to escape from with every passing moment, slowly fusing with their flesh and bone until one could not identify where their body ended and the chains began.

       Their time to dispel the House's darkness from their veins was there, but it was gradually ticking down… not that they particularly minded.

       (They weren't sure that they would fully leave the House, regardless, so its darkness would always inhabit their veins in some way, shape, or form. It would simply be to a lesser degree, if they were to decide that they did not want to be the next Knave.

       ...But they weren't sure that they would do that, either. The spider's web was their home, entangled inseparably with their limbs; it simply felt right for them to become its next owner with how intensely it stuck to their skin, as if it was beckoning them and only them.)

       The implication that they had limited time to leave was not such a heavy burden to bear.

       What was quite the weight, however, was the nature of their missions.

       Missions assigned to them were those that were unsuitable for the other children; generally, "unsuitable" meant extremely bloody and shrouded in the pitch-black shadows of the vile secrets of nobility or political figures. The darkness that their missions harbored ran deep. Missions assigned to them were more than simple intelligence gathering—there was something far more sinister about their work.

       It was often about sending a message.

       It was often about silencing the cackles of boisterous, rich fools who wrongly believed they had won by sending one of the Knave's agents running home like a frightened dog with its tail between its legs, bearing wounds they had not worn before leaving.

       It was often about instilling the fear of those who lurked in the darkest shadows into unwisely confident people who'd only just stepped into the dark, new to the territory and unfamiliar with the dangers that prowled further within.

       Over and over and over again, it was about sending a message.

       Missions that other children failed, they would be sent to complete.

       And often, those missions resulted in them walking home drenched in blood that was not theirs.

       (They still were not quite as elegant as Father, and this was one of the most frequent things that she chided them for… but they were still learning. Arlecchino hardly thought it was worth holding against them when they could successfully complete the missions that others failed to. She was a bit harder on them in the beginning, typically subjecting them to difficult stealth trainings that often involved plenty of brightly-colored paint ready to drench them the second they made a wrong move.

       Much to the Harbinger's intrigue, they had little issue with her trainings. It was never their stealth that was the problem. Rather…

       'Things tend to get… physical quite fast, Father. The people I am sent after are often quite volatile, as I am sure you know, so I have few choices other than to get dirty.'

       'I see.'

       Now, all she usually did when they returned in a disheveled manner was click her tongue and tell them to go clean themselves up, followed by little to no tasks assigned to them the next day, unless there were absolutely necessary operations that could not be avoided or handed to someone else.)

       They supposed that—at the very least—missions of that nature were not common, so they rarely had to tread home tired, bloody, and, sometimes, in a poor mood. It was rare that Father deemed a mission too unsuitable for the other children, yet still appropriate enough for them.

       Unfortunately, however, this was one of those nights.

       Their mission had gone well, as per usual. Nonetheless, they did not return well, and instead came home with a distantly tired expression and rather neat clothes… should one ignore the blood soaking their shoes and the tips of their pants, of course.

       The sight of home only motivated them to walk faster and with more purpose, yet they kept their steps quiet and light to the best of their ability. It didn't take long to reach their destination when their veins were filled with newfound energy and enthusiasm.

       Before fully stepping inside, they took their footwear off as to not drag the evidence of their mission all across the floor.

       (Not that it couldn't be easily cleaned. The skills which their siblings possessed would make cleaning blood the simplest task in the world. No, they were not concerned that the blood would stain the floor or any of the carpets. In their mind, it was more about respecting the home that Father built and not tarnishing it with the blood of unworthy fools. That was what they were concerned about.)

       Once their shoes were secured in their hand, they peered inside. It was vacant and silent. The only sound that filled the room was the quiet crackling coming from the active fireplace.

       Most of their siblings were probably out, they thought, but someone had to be home if the flames were still burning. For safety reasons, everyone was required to put it out, should the House be completely vacant. Someone was home, then.

       They felt no particular need to hide themselves in this state; it wasn't exactly uncommon for a child to return either bruised and beaten or soaked with blood that may or may not have been their own, or some combination of both. Such was the nature of living in the House of the Hearth; everyone came home like that at one point or another. It was mere curiosity that made them wonder who was home. 

       The little ones, Foltz or Heloir? No, Father did not permit them to be home alone with the fire burning, since they were too young and small to handle fire correctly.

       Perhaps Lyney or Lynette, then? But those two had a show scheduled for tonight (one that they were a little upset to have to miss, but their sadness was met with reassurance by the twins, that they would both be more than happy to give them an exclusive show so that they would get to see what they missed).

       Freminet? Maybe, but he was probably with the twins or out diving. He had mentioned that he was going to go if Father did not assign him any new missions.

       With gentle steps, they made their way inside, closing the door behind them using their vacant hand.

       A smooth, elegant, and calm voice called out to them:

       "Welcome home, child."

       "Ah." That's who was home, then. They turned to face the Knave with a polite bow of their head. "Good evening, Father."

       Her gaze pinned them under the weight of scrutiny, eyes quickly taking in their disheveled appearance and tired disposition. "That blood is not yours, is it?"

       There was a vague twinge of something in her tone that they could not quite identify.

       Arlecchino was not a particularly easy woman to read, so it never much bothered them when they could not discern what she was thinking or feeling. Most couldn't. It was not a lack of ability on their part; it was simply a fact of life. The Fourth Harbinger was not a person easily understood.

       …But somehow, it almost felt like she was concerned.

       "No, it isn't," they replied.

       Whatever it was that took hold of her tone a moment ago had dissipated, snuffed out like the small flame of a candle.

       "Good. Go clean yourself up, then. You may deliver an oral report to me later. Worry not about a prompt delivery—concern yourself first with recovery." She turned on her heel. "Oh, and… [Name]?"

       "Yes, Father?"

       "You are not to partake in any missions tomorrow. Do not allow your siblings to include you in any of theirs, either."

       'Do not get roped into your siblings' messes,' is what she meant to say. Their lips twitched upwards in poorly-concealed amusement. She almost certainly could hear it in their voice. She said nothing, however—perhaps she herself was vaguely amused by the implication of her own statement, or perhaps she was endeared by their capacity to clearly and completely understand what she meant to say.

       "Yes, Father."

             — flower of the universe !! 🌸

       Flames and shadows danced and flickered on the walls, their dance of light and dark uniquely mesmerizing.

       The radiating warmth of the fire caressed their skin, kissing away any of the cold that they might have felt as a consequence of the remaining water droplets clinging to their hair.

       Falling asleep sounded so very tempting, surrounded by the hearth's warmth and safety, sitting… somewhat comfortably on the soft, red rug right with their back partially supported by the sofa behind them.

       It wasn't exactly… uncommon for many of their siblings to take naps here, though that was typically during the day when the golden rays of the sun filtered in through the open window.

       (Lyney and Lynette were notoriously fond of sleeping here in the afternoon when the sun streamed in so perfectly, bathing the carpet in its golden light until it became as warm and cozy as a blanket—they sometimes wondered if it had to do with those two's feline genes, though they dared not ask, in the case that either one would take their question the wrong way.

       They probably wouldn't, especially Lyney. They're certain he would find amusement in their musings… or maybe he would get terribly embarrassed?

       …Ah, well. They wouldn't pry. It was more entertaining to speculate nevertheless.)

       It was not daytime. It was nowhere near daytime.

       If they had to guess, it was more than likely the middle of the night; the only light that filtered in from that window was the cool moonlight, though it's cold light was largely drowned out by the flames roaring in the fireplace.

       Still…

       Sleeping right where they were sounded so much more appealing than getting up and making the lengthy trek to the room they shared with some of their siblings…

       Truly, honestly, they had only intended to rest their body for a moment.

       However, after what felt like a never-ending battle with microsleeps, they allowed their eyelids to flutter shut and finally succumbed fully to sleep, the crackling of the fire cooing its goodnights into their ears.

             — flower of the universe !! 🌸

       Arlecchino was a woman not easily fooled.

       That much was a given, of course, considering her status as the Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers. The fact that she was a Fatui Harbinger was enough of an indicator of her sheer perceptiveness on its own—surely nobody in such a high position could be anything other than observant. A Harbinger at all, let alone a Harbinger so highly ranked, could not afford to be anything besides calculated, cunning, and sharp-eyed.

       Her understanding of their state was instantaneous; the very moment they walked in the door, she knew.

       She had seen the utter exhaustion seeping into their bones, permeating their very being and making even the simplest tasks quite a bit more challenging. It was all too clear to the Knave, as clear as the most cloudless of days, visible in the way their shoulders slouched and the way their eyes drooped.

       She knew from the very moment they had stumbled—stumbled, their feet barely coordinated and legs struggling to support the rest of their weight—into the house, tired and dazed though still able to muster up respect and courtesy when faced with her. Had they been faced with one of their siblings, Arlecchino was certain that their formality would have quickly crumbled into nothing, but because it was her, they had maintained near perfect diplomacy and grace.

       Nevertheless, they still failed to hide how worn out they truly were (but perhaps that was because she was the person she was; had it been any non-Fatui member, their exhaustion may have slipped by entirely unnoticed).

       Therefore, it was only natural for her to check on them.

       That was part of her responsibility as Father—to know how her children were doing, physically or otherwise, at any given time. A healthy child made for a good soldier. An unhealthy child, less so.

       …But their state of being could only make her sigh as she walked over to them, steps light and soundless as to not disrupt their rest.

       They needed it. That much, Arlecchino was extremely aware of. She was nonetheless irked at their blatant lack of consideration for their own body; sleeping in the position that they were, neck craned uncomfortably against the edge of the sofa and body still incredibly tense, would only serve to strike their body with in great pain the following morning. It was simply unhealthy, but it was also inconvenient, considering the responsibilities that loomed over their shoulder like a shadow of the past that could never be shaken.

       The Knave slipped behind them, gingerly lifting their head with a pleasantly warm hand (though her rings were considerably chilly, but the sting was also a rather pleasant sensation against their skin) so that she was able to situate herself behind them.

       Then, she gently laid their head back down. Now, however, their neck was offered far greater support by her thigh, and her mind was soothed. No longer did the Fourth feel that they would awaken sore and stiff.

       Nails raked across their face and delicately brushed at the hair slightly sticking to their forehead; it had mostly dried by now, but there was still residual moisture clinging to their hair, causing it to adhere—albeit weakly—to their skin. Their eyelids seemed to twitch somewhat. A soft hush from their caretaker, however, and they ceased stirring.

       Mad and cursed. To an extent, perhaps those labels were true; Arlecchino was mad and cursed, but then maybe her children found comfort and safety in her madness and her curses.

       They most certainly did, for despite the brief consciousness they regained, they were quick to allow themselves to be lulled back into a peaceful sleep under the watchful eyes of Father.

       Perhaps "madness" was subjective.

       ...Or perhaps her heir was simply following in her footsteps, slowly descending the same path she did, gradually growing to be as mad as she.

       "Dearest child of mine…" she mused aloud, the tones of her voice soft enough to ensure that they would not begin to rouse once again yet not quite faint enough to be regarded as a whisper. Something one might call fond flickered in her voice as she went on, hand coming to a slow stop and settling on the top of their head: "How foolish you can be."

       The darkness creeping up Arlecchino's arms day by day, indicative of her curse's growing severity, was sated, ceasing its ascent for the time being.

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[idyllic-affections]

little colt.

summary. xianyun cannot help but take in another child. perhaps, in the future, they may become a disciple of hers.

trigger & content warnings. none applicable.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, found family-ish. xianyun & child!reader. 2k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next.

author's thoughts. bird mom propaganda RAHHHHHH btw if you find a typo no you didn't i'm sleepy but i wanted to post this........

       Cloud Retainer has taken on many disciples in her time, and she has loved each and every one as if they were her own.

       It was, therefore, quite unlikely that she woukd cease to take on disciples anytime within the forseeable future. Her love was extensive, far beyond what most mortals would be able to comprehend, and her capacity for intimate and tight bonds was even moreso. She has taken on many disciples over the years, and she has loved them all like her own children.

       Perhaps it could be attributed to her adeptal instincts; she can recall many a time during which her fellow adepti, upon bonding closely with another being, became exceedingly protective of them. It was only natural—adepti lived for so long and were often affected by their more nonhuman instincts. It wouldn't be improbable to imagine that the need to bond with other beings would grow strong over so many years.

       ...Then again, it could always simply be attributed to her. In her mind, there was little need for any such justification like 'instincts.' She could scoff at the idea—she was no mere animal. 'Instincts' could not begin to fully explain the depth of her love and care; it was surely infinitely more complicated than the mere maternal urges that a simple crane, a wild animal, might have. She was infinitely more intricate and convoluted than an uncomplicated bird.

       (That, however, did not change the fact that she did tend to have bird-like habits. Preening, nesting in her own way... She preferred not to bring attention to that fact, however.)

       Regardless of the reason, the truth was that she was lonely, even if she vehemently denied it whenever someone brought up the idea. Mt. Aocang was... quiet, dreadfully so without the constant presence of Ganyu or Shenhe or any of her other disciples. She enjoyed the silence to an extent, but she could only entertain herself for so long without another being to share her knowledge with. Liyue Harbor was far more lively. Loud and chaotic at times, perhaps, but far less lonely than the empty nest that her adeptal abode had become.

       Maybe that was why she was so immediately invested in the little one who had accidentially bumped into her and was now apologizing profusely.

       "I'm— I'm so sorry, miss! I wasn't watching where I was going! I really didn't mean it, I..."

       'What a swift little thing,' she couldn't help but muse. She'd hardly even spotted them rushing her way before they tumbled into her legs. Their body weight wasn't even enough to make her stumble—if anything, they were the one that ended up getting thrown off balance. It was cute how small they were compared to her, really; it reminded her of Shenhe when she was a child, or even her current disciple, Shuyu.

       Ah... but she shouldn't be so quick to think fondly of them. No, surely this little one had parents of their own—a life of their own—to return to. She did not even know their name. No. Bonds should not be so quick to form.

       With elegant, poised grace akin to a gentle breeze rustling a tree's leaves, she knelt down, the motion putting an end to their sheepish yet hurried apologies. Glossy, innocent eyes stared up at her—even kneeling, Xianyun was still a bit taller than they were—with an amount of awe that would've made her feathers puff out in pride had she been in her illuminated beast form. She was not one to grow embarrassed at admiration, after all.

       "Where are your caregivers, child?"

       "Oh. Um." Their brows furrowed slightly. "...I don't know, actually."

       "Ah, are you lost? Come, then. One— Ahem. I shall reuinte you with them. I am certain they must be quite frantic in your absence."

       Before she could rise and offer her clawed hand to them, they urgently shook their head.

       "Oh, no! It's not like that, miss. Even if it was, I wouldn't want to trouble you at all! I would find my way back!" they insisted politely, waving their hands in front of their body as if to dismiss her concerns (though, Xianyun hardly thought it would be "troubling"; she was a bit surprised that they felt it so, or perhaps they were really just trying to be polite). It was then that she noticed the little wooden chick held carefully in one of their hands, but she did not yet have the opportunity to inquire about it. "I've been on my own for as long as I can remember, that's all."

       Oh?

       Oh.

       "Hm. Is that so?"

       "Uh-huh."

       "In that case, child, I—"

       A man rounding the corner and immediately prevented her from finishing her sentence. He was very clearly furious, approaching the child with such fervent determination that Xianyun could not help but wonder what nature of a troublemaker she must have encountered. Though... she really did not see them that way, which only made her infintely more curious about rhe situation at hand.

       Their expression seemed to fall.

       "You, kid!" he shouted, stopping just a foot or two away from them. "You can't just go around stealing whatever you please! Who raised you?!"

       "No, I..." They could not meet his gaze. "I was gonna bring back more mora to make up for it when I could, I just—!"

       "Don't give me excuses. I want the toy you've stolen returned, you understand? Hand it over!"

       Xianyun sighed, adjusting her glasses.

       "Enough," she said, rising to her feet. "How much mora will suffice? For reparations, of course."

       "Rep— reparations?" the man stuttered, then sighed. "No, no... look. You're the mom? Just teach your kid not to go around stealing. The toy's not worth much, but a kid who starts stealing this young will take far more important things in the future. So, teach 'em not to do it."

       Hiding behind Xianyun's legs, they couldn't help but stare upwards in wonderment. His attitude flipped completely when faced with a woman so much taller than he was, and with an air surrounding her that demanded such an impossible amount of respect. They honestly could not blame him for such an attitude change; they would too, they thought, if they were faced with someone like her.

       "Very well. You have my apologies on their behalf." She turned on her heel, holding out her hand to them. "Let us go, little colt."

       Colt?

       Bewildered but nonetheless beyond awestruck with this strange yet kind woman, they nodded, wordlessly placing their freehand in hers. Her sharp, hooked nails dug slightly into their skin; somehow, though, they couldn't be bothered to care. It didn't hurt much. On the contrary, it was oddly comforting.

       The walk was silent for a few moments, but then, Xianyun's voice demanded their attention:

       "You should pay quite the mind to your behavior in the future. Theivery is a significant offense in a land such as this—a land that regards contracts with the highest of respect. Had I withheld my intervention, it may very well have ended far worse."

       "I really didn't mean to," they whispered, little tears building up in the corners of their eyes. Even though she was someone they had only just met a few moments ago, disappointing her seemed... unbearable. Angering her would have been more tolerable. "Um... steal, that is. I didn't mean it. I just thought it looked really cool. I left whatever mora I had on me to pay for it, and I was going to try and get more so I could pay him the right amount... I swear I wasn't going to just run away with it..."

       She hummed. "Regardless of your intent, I will see to it that you do not do such a thing again."

       "Hu— huh? You will?"

       She scoffed. "Of course. Surely you did not expect me to abandon you on the side of the street again? As an elder, it is only right that I watch over little ones such as yourself, and little ones should not be cruelly left to fend for themselves."

       The tears on their lashes had dried by now. They even offered her a smile, giggling as they said, "Elder? I don't think you're old."

       "Oh? And what, pray tell, has led you to such a bold conclusion, hm?"

       "Well... you! You look very young, miss! I think elder women are very pretty too, but you look... young pretty? Um... what's the word again..?"

       "Youthful, perhaps?"

       "Yeah! Youthful!"

       As they rambled on animatedly, clutching the wooden bird to their chest, Xianyun's lips quirked upwards into an amused smile.

       It, of course, went unnoticed by them.

                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸

       In the few days that had passed since Xianyun welcomed little [Name]—they had bashfully introduced themselves to her in the middle of their rambling once they recalled that she didn't even know their name, and she returned the sentiment with greater confidence—into her home, she had put together a few simple toys for them to amuse themselves with.

       She was an inventor at heart. Even though these designs were not entirely her own, she made them hers with unique additions and more efficient features... of course, all while doing her best to keep the toys simple. They were for a child, after all. Mechanics, Xianyun's mechanics, were complicated enough for adults to understand as it was—a child would surely have even less of a capacity to grasp something too complicated, and her efforts would therefore have been wasted.

       ...But oh, how terribly wrong she now understood herself to be.

       Quietly and motionlessly, as to avoid drawing their attention, she watched with the growing warmth of fondness and excitement in her chest as the young one she took in meticulously pried open the toys she handcrafted.

       They were humming to themselves, gingerly laying out the parts in an organized manner so that nothing got lost or mixed. She was beyond impressed with the careful thought they had blatantly put into keeping track of everything; Xianyun was certain that most children would lose a small part or two, but as she surveyed their layout, she noted that every single piece—big or small, hard to overlook or easy to lose—was accounted for.

       Childish forgetfulness wasn't an inherently bad thing. In fact, it was quite amusing and endearing to those such as herself who had lived for so many millennia.

       However, she was infinitely more endeared by their sheer mindfulness.

       Their sharp gasp snapped her from her internal musings.

       "Oh— Miss... Miss Xianyun! I'm sorry, I—" They stumbled over their words, and they froze up somewhat. It was as if they wanted to hide what they had done but ultimately decided against it; she had clearly already spotted them, and they did not want to risk mixing up all the parts. "Miss Xianyun, I'm so sorry, I— I wasn't trying to destroy them, I just—"

       "—wanted to understand their internal workings, yes?"

       Their eyes went wide with that same wonderment they had displayed towards her a few days prior. "How... how did you know?"

       She almost laughed at their cluelessness. "You have taken them apart with the care and delicacy quite unusual for one of your age. This, one surmises, is only because you sought to sate your curiosity regarding these simple mechanisms and their internal functions."

       The grace with which she carried herself never failed to leave them in astonished silence. Xianyun hummed, sweeping them up into her arms as if they weighed no more than a feather (her utter, raw strength was another astounding feat in their young mind; she was so unimaginably admirable in a multiplicity of ways to them). Then, with steady caution, she kneeled to the floor and situated them comfortably in her lap.

       "Allow one to introduce you, little colt, to the basics of mechanics."

       Xianyun, they concluded, was an odd but genuinely kind woman.

       Though her manner of speech was sometimes strange and formal, and her grace seemed otherworldly in its nature, and her strength was assuredly not a feat that just anyone could achieve...

       She was tender. She was kind. She cared.

       Perhaps the world was not always so kind, but despite that knowledge, they had never felt safer than where they were now.

please consder reblogging with a kind tag or comment, it helps me out quite a lot! mama xianyun series taglist: @zeldadou, @starryshinyskies, @soleillunne, @lillonvia, @nervocat, @dragon-type-nuggetz, @starlit-dianthus. contact me non-anonymously to be added.

[lovehypegirl]

AT LAST

"MY LOVE HAS...COME ALONG"

In which Wriothesley adopts a child he found wandering around Meropide

pairing: adoptivefather!Wriothesley x adoptivechild!reader

wc: 0.7k

warnings: death of birth mother

request

Your childhood was spent in Meropide

Your mother was a convicted felon and gave birth to you in the prison and contrary to belief, you loved it there. All the hallways and elevators. Stalking the Duke and hiding behind barrels whenever he was out and about. Ducking out of the sight whenever he turned around. It became a game of cat-and-mouse that you played every time the Duke was out-and-about in the fortress

Post-natal care wasn't the best in Meropide due to the lack of childbirths in the prison fortress so your mother wasn't able to receive the proper care postpartum and she passed when you were six. Her weak health had a hand in her death as well

After that, you immediately went into the care of Fontaine's orphanage and was transferred into the system. You spent the next four years in the foster care system until you snuck your way back into Meropide through the pipes

You lasted the whole of one day before Wriothesley found you and questioned you as to what you were doing in Meropide

You revealed that you had been looking for him. All your ten-year-old mind was searching for was a person of comfort. A bond that had unknowingly grown in your early childhood drew you back to Meropide.

Wriothesley understood this took you in after the Guarde's had made attempts to shoo you away

He eventually adopted you, naming you as his child. He knew what it was like to be an orphan and the last thing he wanted was for you to live what he went through

Preparations were immediately made for the child of the Duke of Meropide to enter the fortress.

You got your own big bedroom with a giant floor to ceiling window that looked out the underwater life of the ocean. He was unable to give you a room with sunlight but you were content with the sea life and falling asleep watching the fishies swim around

He had bought you (or Cloriande and Navia) bought you new clothes. Clothes to accommodate the cold climate of Meropide. Little faux fur coats were Navias favorite to buy you. It was quite the Fontanian trend at the moment

You were placed in the best schooling immediately. Wriothesely hired the best private tutors for little you to ensure that you would have the best education

And alongside that, he taught you to defend yourself which you became very adept at

You learned fencing, chess, games of skill, and martial arts

And you loved, loved, loved to regale him with what you did that day. What classes you took, what you learned, what you want to learn.

And he was happy that you found comfort in his presence

Big tough guy won't admit that he loves that you're comfortable enough to crawl into his bed when you have a nightmare. He takes immense pride in being your safe space

Now, Wriothesley is a very busy man and you're nearly on the cusp on teenage years (being ten) so as an only child, you've tasked yourself of entertaining yourself

You quickly realized that you weren't confined to your room and that you had the whole of Meropide to explore at your will

And you loved it

The expanse of the fortress was immense and you constantly got lost but that just meant that you had to explore new areas

Wriothesley was worried at first so he had Guarde's trail your every move and ensure you weren't getting hurt. Once he realized you always came back when you got hungry, he was more lenient but still worried as you're his child

And once you realized he eased up, you began your little pranks.

You started by putting stickers on every. single. thing

And then you took his coat

Replaced his tea leaves with grass (this one earned you a one week grounding)

Tried to douse him with water by positioning a bucket above his office door (another two week grounding)

Drawing on the walls (didn't get far, walls are made of metal and Crayola doesn't last on those)

At this point, you started to run out of ideas as Wriothesley was always two steps ahead of you

So much for trying to outwit the Duke of Meropide

Better luck next time

© 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙃𝙔𝙋𝙀𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 | modification and translation of my works on any platforms are strictly prohibited

[impactedfates]

hehhaharhar i so totally not deprived of father figure! genshin men with kidnapped child reader? pls pls 💓💓💓any man is fine but perferably the tall ones ☝

★ A/N: Yeah sure you aren't...anyways, yep I got you covered with this request :))

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial

★ Format: HeadCannons (Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya, Childe, Kaveh)

☆ Warnings: Mentions and hints of kidnapping // Mentions of death (In Diluc and Childes) // Spoilers for the Liyue Archon quest if you have not done it yet // Mentions of going to the hospital (Kavehs)

★ Extra: Reader is adopted in Zhonglis one // Reader is shorter then most characters (They're about 6-7 age wise) // Reader has no vision // Reader is ofc NOT traveler

For whatever reason I can see it being a Fatui that kidnapped you. Perhaps to get payback for the massacre Diluc caused back in Snenznaya. Whatever the reason, once Diluc finds out you’re gone and it was because of the Fatui? Oh he’s more then pissed.

If they wanted to upset him, they succeeded. Perhaps too successfully as when he finally finds you, most of the Fatui that’s been there to ensure you don’t escape has been soaking in a pool of their own blood. He of course won’t hurt anyone violently if you’re in the room, but he will knock the other people in there out. He’ll pick you up and hide your face in his chest as he calmly walks out.

When you are back home, he’ll take a few days off work to ensure you’re okay after what happened, and maybe if it comes to it he may actually ask some of the Knights of Favonius for help as well.

Honestly whether or not he actually hurt anyone is up to you, however I do think that when it comes to family, he isn't that hesitant to be a bit more violent then usual.

Getting adopted and having your father being the ex-archon of Liyue had it's ups and downs, especially as you witnessed your father continuously forget his wallet, however never have you thought you'd get kidnapped.

You weren't sure why though, Zhongli had kept his identity a secret and the only ones knowing were other Archons and the traveler as far as you knew plus Zhongli in his "mortal" form isn't that much of an important figure to others, nor is he famous. Yet here you were, treasure hoarders surrounding you.

Meanwhile, Zhongli was panicking wondering where you went. One second you were close behind him, the next you were gone. So he quickly called upon some of the adeptus to search for you and thankfully, you also had the privilege to call upon Xiaos name and he'll come right to your side. Whatever happened to the treasure hoarders?

You're not sure, Xiao simply teleported you away and right into your fathers arms as he held you tight before disappearing into the green mist once again. Zhongli checks all over you to ensure you aren't hurt. After that day, he's sure to always have an eye on you and when he cannot. An adeptus will look out for you from afar.

Being a Knight, and a captain in fact. Kaeya definitely encountered people wanting to push his cool persona over the edge. It's part of the reason why he's a bit hesitant on growing closer to certain loved ones.

He's afraid of loosing them, so when he lost you. He did not take it well, despite his cool demeanour when he ordered some knights to go search for you, people like Jean and his brother Diluc were quick to see he was in a state of panic, Jean even offered to take over the search so Kaeya could relax but he didn't want too. He had to find you safe and sound, even if that meant he had to get hurt.

When you are finally found, he's quick to take whoever's responsible away and have Jean deal with them properly as he himself brings you to Barbara who checks for injuries you may have sustained. He's by your side at all times and may even be hesitant to leave your side.

Even though Jean likely did give him some time off to spend time with you and for him to cool down after what happened, he's still unwilling to leave you alone, even with another babysitter. He does reluctantly agree when his older brother offers to take care of you. He knows Diluc is strong and will be able to protect you. (Better than Diluc protecting him anyways)

Whoever kidnapped you must have a death wish or something...

Of course it's easy to see why someone were to kidnap you. I mean, being the kid of not only the fatui, but a harbinger. It's clear why someone tried to kidnap Tartaglia's kid but...it's not smart either.

The Fatui have a large amount of people working for them, and most aren't afraid to attack. And due to the fact Childe is a harbinger, it's easy for him to get people to find you as soon as he knows of your disappearance and when you are found, he asks his subordinates to take you back to his house where his family will look after you whilst Childe *cough cough* uh...deals with the perps responsible.

He'll come back soon, cleaned up but faintly smelling of blood and double checks to see you're okay. Now he does go back to work faster then anyone else, this is mainly because I don't think he'll really be allowed time off, however he does have some subordinates keep an eye on you from afar.

Oh archons, he is p a n i c k i n g. Once Kaveh finds out you've been kidnapped he's so worried, it takes Alhaitham to actually shake him to get him to finally focus on finding you. Unfortunately unlike the others listed in this post so far, he cannot easily go looking for you himself. However being friends with Cyno does mean you have the General of the Mahamatra looking for you and he is good at his job.

It may take awhile but eventually Cyno does find you, and after dealing with the kidnappers and arresting them. Takes you to the Sumeru hospital (they have one right?) to get healed as he tells Kaveh that you've been found.

Kaveh stays by your side no matter what, he'll sleep on the damn floor of the hospital if he has too, he doesn't even leave you once you're discharged from it either. He feels so guilty about what happened and blames himself so he tries his best to make more time with you. Even if this means his debts may increase, he just wants to spend as much time with you as possible encase this happens again.

And hey, Alhaitham may be kind enough to dismiss Kavehs missed rent payment that month.

Weehee. I actually enjoyed writing this :D However next time please make sure to check to see if my requests are open before sending one in, in any case I hope you liked this <33

[3noa3]

Them leaving you in place

It's one of your only resting times and your least favorite. The other two being when you're not in the party or when the player leaves.

It's not like you hate taking a break or anything, archon knows you're not a workaholic like a few of your acquaintances.

Today the player invited a new friend into his world, low level and all that. After they afk a bit you move to comfort the scared Klee the other player had.

— More under the cut —

You sat stiffly on the chair as the player and her friend chatted among themselves.

The topic has long bored you and you resigned yourself to looking around the scenery of Mt. Aocong, or so you would if the other player's Klee didn't look so distraught.

You already met the Klee your player had but she mostly hung around the Knight of Favonius. The little kid had ample time and support so she got back on her feet after becoming self aware relatively fast but if your guess is right then this Klee probably didn't have the same luxury.

[Oh shoot! I forgot to cook rice!]

[Hahaha! You're dead!... oh wait i had to cook rice too.]

After you discreetly looked into their screen and made sure they left you stood up from the stone chair and approached co-op Klee.

She flinched and looked at you with fear before holding your hands up and showing her you mean no threat.

“Hey uh Klee, you probably don't know me but i know you. You're probably confused so feel free to ask anything.”

You spoke in an awkward albeit reassuring tone. She continues to look at you warily, archons you suck at dealing with kids.

Remembering a trick a Fontainian acquaintance once taught you you proceeded to pull out a mora.

“Here! Do you see this? It's a mora! Oh and where did it go? Right behind your ear.”

You felt tension leave your shoulder after her eyes brightened up with curiosity.

“Ohh ohh, how did you do that?”

She asked curiously as you make a shushing motion with a playful wink.

“Magicians secret, anyway how are you feeling?”

You ask while pulling out a juice from your inventory.

“Klee is a bit scared…”

She replies, looking down and twiddling with her fingers before brightening up as she happily takes the juice you gave her.

“Yeah it's… always scary the first time.”

You then went back to your seat and kept talking to her. She's actually quite nice to be around.

The small bundle of energy happily talked about her adventures, dodoco, and older brother Albedo. You didn't realize how much time had passed until Klee’s player entered the room, left the game and the co-op world ended.

You felt uneasy being left in silence once again but without your player closing the app you could do nothing but stand out in the open, doing some idle animations or dialogue every now and again.

Even when it rained. Even when a lightning struck you. Just standing in painstaking silence...

[tragedy-of-commons]

when somebody needs you (+ baklava)

kaveh & gn!reader | wc: ~1.5k

In a much-needed moment of respite, you and Kaveh both learn not to give so much in the pursuit of others' happiness.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, mild angst, written platonically but can be interpreted as romantic, description of disassociation (reader), and nail-picking (kaveh)

notes: n/a

A voice calls your name, dangerously soft.

You want to snap out of the stupor you’re stuck in, but white noise rings in your ears. It threatens to drown out the singsong of daily life as the seconds tick by. Maybe you didn’t even hear it at all, because the sunlight feels fake upon your skin, and the line between reality and the pit of your mind blurs further.

Your name again, louder. Ah, well, no excuse now - do something.

“Hm?” you hum. A small part of you realizes that you’ve been staring at the same market stall for at least an hour, but it’s easier to remain transfixed on an inconsequential target than your own thoughts.

“I asked if you’re alright,” they place a hand on your shoulder and squeeze. “Ahem, that brute stole my ke–uh, something important of mine again. I was heading back here to kill time, but you’re still in the same spot as when I first saw you.”

Kaveh. His hand is on your shoulder, and you can picture his brow furrowed in concern that you don’t deserve. You take a deep breath.

“Yes. I’m alright.” You don’t dare face him.

The silence that follows your lie is comforting. However, the architect must not agree. Kaveh finds his words after a too-long pause. “..In that case, could I sit with you? It’s beautiful out today.”

You nod mechanically, and a blur of blond and white settles in your peripherals.

“You know,” he starts, and you strain to hear him. “I haven’t seen you around much lately. If there’s something you want to talk about, I can listen. We could get lunch,” he offers kindly.

You wrench your head to the side to take a good look at your friend. He’s breathtaking, and it’s almost criminal that he doesn’t realize it. He’s looking at you with his bleeding heart on display, and you know that he knows. He must, right?

“With what mora?” you joke. Kaveh lights up like he just won the lottery when you bloom at his behest. “Why, Alhaitham’s, of course.”

That’s right; he’s more inclined to let go of his pride when you’re around. One usually can’t waterboard his living situation or reliance upon his roommate out of him. It’s not that he’s arrogant, you think, but that he has to shed his Light of Kshahrewar persona - and you’re grateful for the privilege. He certainly deserves a reprieve, even if it’s better spent with someone else.

“And that wouldn’t be too much trouble?” “Nonsense, don’t be silly. I could also use your opinion on some of my revisions,” his bravado softens. “I’d love your company.” 

He’d love your company. It’s dangerous for him to say things like that - sweet conjectures that haul you to your feet and make you agree to spend the afternoon with him. 

Walking down Treasures Street with Kaveh is a familiar activity, sure, but this time he’s merciful enough not to comment on your sluggish movements or lackluster replies, when you’re usually matching his intellectual wit head-on. Another thing you owe him.

“Something sweet is a must,” he mutters, holding the door of Puspa Café open for you. “What do you think? Baklava?”

On second thought, maybe you’ll save your debilitating guilt for after dessert.

When Kaveh’s teeth are sufficiently sticky, there still has been no heart-to-heart therapeutic conversation. Something awful gnaws at him when you stare blankly down at your portion. So, he talks at you like you’re a client, even if it feels wrong. You’re his friend, someone who has seen him at his worst - and he finds himself lacking the right words to get you to open up. As he rambles about his recent projects, his work on Mehrak, and the trips he’s taken to the desert, he’s reminded of how little you’ve talked about yourself period.

He can preach about tact to his roommate all he likes, but this is a contender for one of his more humbling experiences. How many times have you wanted to leave early before this, but you were too wonderful to say anything? How many hours of your life has he wasted by making everything all about him? 

Inviting you here was supposed to be an attempt at listening to you for once, and he– You snap in front of his face. “Hey. You’re not making any sense.” “Oh! Sorry, I must have gotten caught up in my thoughts,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I know the feeling. Also,” you rap against the table near his lounging hand, one of his restless index fingers picking at the adjacent thumb’s cuticle. “You’re messing with your nails again. Something on your mind?” His heart is about to overflow whether he likes it or not. “I want to help.” You blink twice, eyes now glossy. Since when did you perk up? “You are helping.” “I’ve been rambling this whole time–” “–And I’ve been listening,” You cross your arms over your chest matter-of-factly, now chuckling. “Clearly you haven’t, because in the latter half of that spiel, you started reciting shitty poetry instead of whatever filler you had prepped.” The soft expression he wore morphs into abject horror. “I did not.” You’re grinning evilly, and it’s beautiful. Oh Archons, he did. However, had he known making a fool of himself frees you of your pain that you guard sacred, he would have screamed purple prose from the rooftops like a madman at the earliest opportunity. “That aside, what I’m trying to say is.. you are helping, Kaveh. Dragging me here, away from all the noise, and keeping me company means a lot.” The mist haunting your visage has been warded off, accidental soliloquy aside. “I’m sorry for not being upfront about my situation.” “I know the feeling,” he parrots. The scope of his empathy extends to everyone, himself be damned, but it shouldn’t have taken this long to realize what’s been festering in plain sight. “No apologies. Please allow me to lend an ear, even if I’ve been difficult about it myself. I insist.”

A sip of cold, neglected coffee can’t taste too good. You tough it out and then nod stiffly. Details emerge cautiously, muddled by hesitancy and exhaustion, but he listens with rapt attention. Kaveh feels closer than a seat away from you, backing you with all the support he can muster - and when you choke up in front of him for the first time, he swears that he’ll make sure you feel safe enough to do so more often, starting with Baklava pick-me-ups every week.

Regrettably, the world moves on. Tabs are settled, the tear tracks on your cheeks dry, and the sun begins to set, casting the district in a citrinous orange. Though your mind is clearer than it has been in days, there’s still a niggling urgency as you walk your friend back to his Not-Home.

You’re not alright. You’re not alright, and Kaveh knows more than you ever planned to tell him, but at least there’s comfort in the fact that he’s the exact same way. He never planned to tell you about his mother, or the monumental regrets he’d do anything to put to bed. When he let you in, you should have made yourself at home also. Now there is no idle chatter. You pick up the torch. “I like when you talk. Just because you felt like it wasn’t helping me is no reason to go all quiet on me now,” you nudge him with your elbow. Carmine eyes narrow in suspicion. “B-But I literally ‘recited shitty poetry’ when I was–” “Oh, about that..” Kaveh’s strides stretch wider, his many accessories bouncing in pursuit of a space safe from your teasing. A playful scoff. “..I’m never living that down, am I?” “If you don’t want your experimental free verse plastered on the nearest message board, I’ll be expecting a bribe prepared by next Wednesday.” You think the architect is endeared enough by your noticeable uplift in spirit to let it slide. You love him very much, and he must love you too. “Extortion is a serious crime,” he slows down, taking it like a champ. “But it’s a deal. We could meet again then, same spot? I’ll have ample time in the late afternoon.” It hurts to swallow. “Yeah. We could.. talk.” His head eagerly swivels towards you, one hair clip almost dislodging. There’s no missing the glimmer of hope present in each almost imperceptible warp of his features. Alhaitham’s house looms in the distance. “About what’s on your mind?” he hopes. “Yes,” you make yourself say it. “And yours too. Then the revisions you’ve agonized over the last two months.” Kaveh releases the breath he was holding, unabashed in his smiling now. “It’s a promise then.” Such a promise with your best friend is something you’ll try to stop feeling guilty about. As you watch him break from your side onto the porch of his temporary residence (and pound on the door irately), you believe that it will get easier. After all, who else will buy you dessert?

[ladyfocalors]

Slipping Through My Fingers

pairing: Childe x sibling!Reader 

warning: angst but it’s an open ending, murder, blood, mentions of death, family conflict... do tell me if I missed anything. 

note: So I am writing for Childe now. Did not see that one coming. When did that happen? I just got hit with a strong desire to read some platonic sibling angst stuff with Childe. Sadly, I found none that matched my brainrot. I like angst and I couldn’t resist the brainrot and this is what happened. 

A big thank you to @zeldadou for proofreading this and providing some ideas. 

word count: 1k 

The sun hung above the horizon, its fading light casting long shadows among the trees, their branches weighed down by snow. Winters in Snezhnaya were unforgiving, but today the weather was somewhat tame, offering a short rest from the constant biting cold. 

You clutched the bundle of materials tightly, each step causing a soft crunch through the layers of snow beneath your boots. It was rare for you to venture this far away from home, but a spur-of-the-moment decision, fuelled by the news of Ajax coming home soon, was what brought you here. The thought of seeing your younger brother after his long absence filled you with warmth. 

Ajax had always been a spirited and adventurous boy, traits he had carried from childhood into adulthood. As a child, he would eagerly pull at your sleeve, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he would show you his latest discovery. You couldn’t help but smile at the memory, his boundless enthusiasm both endearing and exhausting.  

Of all your siblings, Ajax had always been the one closest to you. You remembered the pride in his eyes when he became the elder brother, eagerly assuming the role of protector and leader, rallying the younger ones to your side as well. You cherished those moments spent together, especially after he was sent to the Fatui. 

Lost in thought, you missed the signs of danger until it was too late. The crunch of snow underfoot, foreign and menacing, shattered the tranquil silence, jolting you awake from your thoughts. 

With a sudden jerk, your arm was dragged back, a startled cry escaping your lips as your grip on the bag faltered, its contents spilling to the ground. Before you could fully comprehend the situation, a swift intervention sent your attacker reeling away from you. 

As you staggered back, heart racing, a glimpse of familiar ginger hair caught your eye. But instead of comfort, shock consumed you. 

Your shock turned to numbing fear as the violent scene played out before you. Unable to bear witness anymore, you averted your gaze, focusing on steadying your breath. 

A sickening thud nearby drew your attention, the scent of blood mingling with the frigid air as the pristine snow now painted crimson. You forced yourself to look back, refusing to accept what you saw. Ajax stood amidst the turmoil, moving with a precision that was both mesmerizing and terrifying. He seemed at home in this violence, as if he had done this before. 

This can’t be right, you told yourself. There must be some other explanation. Ajax couldn't possibly be capable of such violence. He was your little brother, after all, the boy who used to cling to your side, full of energy and mischief. This couldn't be him. 

You didn’t know whether it was minutes or seconds that passed but Ajax finally came to your side as a torch was lit by what you could assume as Ajax’s Fatui coworkers. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice low and serious. 

“Ajax,” you said, ignoring his question yet scared to continue your own. “How many... how many have you killed?” 

You couldn’t read his expression in the dim light. The smell of death and the sight of so much blood seemed to rile something up inside you, a mix of fear and anger that clouded your thoughts. You were unable to grasp onto a single thought in your head, all seemed to be a jumble of things and you couldn’t calm down.  

“Many,” was his reply after a long pause of silence. 

“Why?” you immediately demanded, your voice desperate and trembling. “You are just a trainee. It's the Harbinger’s job to spill blood, isn’t it? It’s their job to be the reaper of chaos and destruction. They’re evil but not you. So, why?” 

You heard him sigh and say, “It's not as simple as you think.” 

You recoiled at his bleak response, taking a step back from him. “Not simple?” you asked incredulously. “I don’t want your defiance; I only want the truth from you. I asked, why are you killing people?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, whether out of frustration or weariness, you couldn’t tell. For a split second you could see his face illuminated by the flames from the torches and all you could see was his dead eyes devoid of any emotions. He was a stranger. 

“I am the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, not a trainee,” he admitted. 

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You steeled yourself, taking in a sharp breath of air. You didn’t know whether you should feel angry or cry or crumble in fear. 

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand,” he continued, his tone softer now. “But things are not always as they seem. The Fatui, the Harbingers... our actions are driven by more than just a desire for chaos. The Tsaritsa-” 

You shook your head, unable to comprehend his words. “I don’t care about powers or politics,” you said, your voice wavering. “I care about you, Ajax. And what you are doing is putting yourself in danger. You cannot justify this. What could justify you becoming a pawn in their twisted game of power? Do you even realise that you mean nothing to them?! And why lie to me?” 

You were met with silence. His face was once again illuminated by the torch. You looked at the Fatuus holding the torch. Looking around, you realise that Ajax being here wasn’t a coincidence. From the looks of it, they must have been tasked to kill the group of people who had tried to attack you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears welling up his eyes. “Please don’t hate me.” 

A part of your heart broke at his words. For a moment all you could see was the young boy who looked up to you, the one that would proudly show the fish he caught, his eyes gleaming with excitement. You blinked your tears away, the visual of the young boy now gone.

“I can never hate you,” you say, your throat heavy. “But I do not accept what you are doing either. You cannot resort to violence, especially murder.” 

Wrapping your arms tightly around yourself, you turned away, eyes brimming with unshed tears. If you could turn back time and stop your father from enrolling your brother into the Fatui, you would have. He may have been very reckless and out of control at times but throwing him to the Fatui was a mistake. The Fatui didn't train him to control his temper as your parents had promised you.

“Pick up the things from the ground, those are for you. I am going home.” 

© ladyfocalors

[mentallyisekaid]

「 ✦ Fatui Harbingers x Signora's Sister! Reader, PART 2.5 ✦ 」

---

Part 1 Part 2 [Part 2.5] Part 3 Part 3.5

It's highly recommended to read the parts in order, otherwise few things will make sense!

Warnings: just me messing with Signora's lore because I can~

Word count: 1.3k

---

And so, with Columbina serenely laying on your lap - and Scaramouche and Ajax's intimate gazes dispelling a part of those doubts that had haunted you for half a millenium...

a glimpse of your past was finally unveiled.

"Rosalyne and I were only half-sisters, and it sprouted a seed of discord between us before I was even old enough to understand what family meant. Albeit, what really drew us apart in the end was my father... or rather, the crime that he committed against the divine."

Twiddling with the warm, red crystal in your hands brought you no comfort - only reminded of a life time's worth of regret.

"A crime that manifested as the Pyro Vision I'm now holding. You could say it's... a symbolization of the Lohefalters' curse. But I was the one who made it possible, and what followed..."

You shook your head. "Well, I'll start from the beginning?"

"Our mother, Freya, a Mondstadter, once met a traveling alchemist from an unknown land. Papa and mama shamelessly fell in love, even though she was married with another man and had a young daughter. After she became pregnant with me, an illegitimate child, Rosalyne's father soon found out and they got divorced. She then married my father, and we all took his surname."

The looks in their eyes revealed that La Signora's colleagues had truly known nothing about her past.

But now, all they cared about was yours.

"Papa was quite fanatic when it came to his alchemic research, and one thing fascinated him above all else: the nature of Visions. He'd become particularly obsessed with a certain thought... could Visions be created alchemically and thus acquired without the blessing of the gods?"

A pained look flashed across Scaramouche's face - maybe one day he'd share why.

"Seeing as he was an outlander, the favor of the divine would never fall upon him in such a way. Maddened, he set out on a journey to achieve a Vision, not as a gift from the gods, but by making one himself."

Columbina tilted her head. "And... did he?"

"It sounds crazy," you sighed, "but he did. He managed to create an artificial Vision. It cost him his sanity and so much more, but regardless; decades of endless research and a myriad of sacrifices materialized in the form of a gemstone - a bright red crystal with a faintly glowing Pyro symbol in its core."

Your next words gained a spiteful undertone, not unnoticed by the others.

"But, he needed a test subject to confirm that this counterfeit Vision was applicable. That was me. Not just because he was insane, but because I was a fool. I only had to promise that I'd never tell the rest of my family, or anyone, about how I had received this 'acknowledgement' from 'Celestia'."

Ajax had an unreadable expression on his face - pity with a hint of disappointment and anger, perhaps.

"You agreed, then?" he asked.

"I was nine years old and rather naïve, so yes." You frowned. "But even as I grew older and understood better, on some level, I still accepted what papa had done..."

Scaramouche crossed his arms.

"But, surely... you didn't do this just to please your parent?"

"No," you shook your head, "or maybe that was a part of it as well. I couldn't say."

Yet someone saw right through you, as always.

"It had something to do with your sister, I presume?" Columbina's voice was gentle, like a mother

Ah, there it was - the void in your heart left behind by a broken kinship with the only sibling you ever had.

It was... more painful than you admitted.

"...I knew my Vision was a fake, but even so, it made me feel special. I'd always felt meritless, living my life in the shadow of the oh-so brilliant Rosalyne, who was both beautiful and academically talented. I... I was never looked at with such admiration."

"Although," your lips curved into a rueful smile, "ever since that day, I had something that she didn't - a Vision - and it harrowed her proud heart. Thus, a mutual feeling of jealousy grew between us, creating a rift that we never tried to overcome."

You shook your head. "At least I never did."

But a question still remained in the air, one that you were consciously avoiding for the sake of the horrible things that had once happened and could yet again occur because of it.

You didn't want to betray or hurt anyone, and even more than that, you wanted to protect yourself.

Yet the other Harbingers cared about you in such a strong, unconditional way, and you had started to harbor these strangely intimate feelings for them as well.

Perhaps you... really didn't need to hide anymore?

Columbina had sat up next you and now pulled you to lay on her lap instead, as she softly spoke:

"This Pyro Vision... you called it a curse - the Lohefalters' curse, or perhaps yours, but what makes you say this, I wonder? Was the cost you had to pay for this power much greater than you have let on, my angel?"

Scaramouche was staring at you intently. "I think we'd all like to know that."

You averted your gaze. "Even if it only gets darker?"

Ajax smiled, uncertain yet encouraging. "Even so."

"I... see. Well, if I had known that my broken relationship with Rosalyne wasn't even a foretaste of this horrible curse that I would end up carrying for centuries... that what papa had done would end up destroying things far, far more precious than just my family, I... I would have done differently, I'm sure of it..."

You sighed. "It's too late for amends, though. And this is all I have to say. For now."

No one was left satisfied by this, not even you yourself.

Their first instinct was to somehow confirm whether you had been telling the truth, having sensed that you were probably quite an adept liar (when you wanted to be).

But your reserved yet sincere eyes didn't invite any distrust.

Childe looked sympathetic, though there was a nuance of something else behind his cerulean gaze. When he smiled at you, the mannerism lacked his usual assertiveness.

"I... see. I'm... at a loss for words here, girlie."

The thought of you carrying these grim secrets all by yourself made the ginger Harbinger feel strangely protective of you, and he wasn't the only one - albeit the other two did a better job at hiding it.

Damselette's expression was curious yet enigmatic, indicating that she'd perhaps already figured out much more than you had told them.

Behind her innocent, uncaring demeanor, Columbina was a very shrewd person.

"Our little angel never ceases to fascinate~," she chuckled, caressing your hair.

The Balladeer's displeasure was evident.

"Ha!" he scoffed. "You've got some nerve, disclosing something of this gravity and then conveniently deciding to leave the rest of our questions unanswered. Moreover, with each secret you reveal, another one just takes its place."

Scaramouche's tone now took a softer hint - then again, maybe you just imagined it.

"Who am I to judge, of course... but isn't centuries of hiding enough, Twelfth?"

Though his opinion was harsh and undisguised, it had voiced the truth you wanted so hard to admit, but just couldn't. You found this... soothing, in a way.

As flames flickered in the fireplace, your heart wanted to stay here with them for a little while longer - each of their gazes embracing you very differently but all in a way that made you feel warm and safe; something quite rare in Snezhnaya.

Yet, with a cryptic smile, you stood up and walked away.

Whether sharing a part of your past had been a mistake, or the first step toward some kind of redemption, you couldn't yet tell. But it was clear that it had set into motion something irreversible.

It was only a matter of time before everyone would know...

[i-am-tiredd]

Let me cook you guys…I started this 10/16 and I’ve wrote only 3 paragraphs.

(This is getting finished in year 3024 😭)

[stellar-skyy]

♡ - LOST & FOUND - Platonic Arlecchino & reader

i. SUMMARY: Hell hath no fury like a parent whose child has been taken from them. ii. CWS & NOTES: description of blood and injury (mildly graphic but not gory), violence, mentions of kidnapping, swearing (like once), implied murder. PLATONIC arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & slight hurt/comfort. 2.5k words. iv. A/N: i am... so normal about parental arlecchino... so normal... i hope you enjoy because i loved writing this!! i have a little written for an epilogue featuring the lyntwins + freminet reuniting, so stay tuned for that ♡

It had been fifty-eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes since [Name] had vanished.

Freminet sat curled up in a velvet armchair that dwarfed his small frame, with Pers on his lap and his brother and sister flanking each side. They had both refused Father’s offer of a seat, which showed the severity of the situation more than words ever could.

No one ever refused Father. Even she had raised an eyebrow at their sudden rebellion.

“Lyney, Lynette. Defiance will not make [Name] come home faster. Take a seat.” Father sipped her tea, poised as ever. Even with that impassive mask, Freminet still noticed the tension in her shoulders.

He always noticed.

“There’s no need,” Lyney said shortly, adding on a respectful “Father.” as an afterthought.

“What my brother means—” Lynette cut in smoothly. “—Is that we do not want to draw this conversation out any longer than necessary. We only came to get permission to postpone our current assignment and search for [Name]. I’m sure you can see the circumstances are dire enough to warrant such action.”

“I’m afraid I do not, Lynette.” Father placed her cup down and folded her hands over her lap. “They are a very skilled agent, and this mission was hardly out of their ability. No need to compromise your current—and very important, I might add—mission, for trivial matters.”

“It isn’t trivial, it’s our sibling!” Lyney burst out, causing Freminet to flinch. He reached out a hand blindly to settle on Freminet’s shoulder, squeezing it quickly in both a comfort and apology for startling him.

“I would be mindful of your place within this household, Lyney.” Father said mildly, the warning clear. “I have given you a direct order, and you will follow it. Do not stray from your assigned mission. [Name] will be fine.” She paused for a beat. “You are dismissed.”

“That’s it?” Lyney hissed. “So, you’re going to just leave them to die?”

It sounded like less of a question and more of an accusation. Freminet winced, feeling Lynette stiffen beside him as well as they waited for the consequences of Lyney’s bluntness.

Arlecchino rose from her seat, the tension in the air thick enough to choke all three of the siblings.

“I never said that. [Name] will be home in due time.” Her gaze shifted from the left to the right side of the armchair. “Lynette, you will have tea with me later, won’t you?” Father asked, causing the girl to freeze.

She bit her lip, answering carefully. “I may. Maybe if [Name] returns, we can all have tea together.”

“A good plan,” Father agreed, ignoring the quiet angry undertone of her words. “When I see them, I shall invite them.”

“It had better be soon; it’s getting late.” Lynette countered. Freminet’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Lynette was always better at matching Father’s games. Freminet crumbled under the weight of her gaze, and Lyney wasn’t any better at handling the pressure without his emotions causing him to crack and splinter.

“Lynette, Freminet. Let’s go.” Lyney said sharply.

Throughout the entire exchange, Lyney’s hand had not moved from where it was planted firmly on Freminet’s shoulder, as if he was refusing to let another of his siblings out of his grasp. Freminet might have remarked that Lynette was handling her worry better, but he noticed how her tail kept curling around his leg when they walked into Father’s office. Neither of the three was willing to part with the others for even a second; not when one of their own had gone missing by doing just that.

As he drew back his hand and moved away, Freminet caught his arm.  

“Just… a moment, please. Wait outside, I’ll join you soon.” Freminet murmured, letting go. Lyney pursed his lips.

“Be quick.”

The twins vanished through the doorway, leaving Freminet alone with his Father.

“Freminet dear. You’re hesitating.” Father raised an eyebrow. “Are you waiting for something? Do you want me to give Pers a kiss on the head before I leave?”

Freminet flushed at the memories of holding the toy up to Father when he was young, insisting the penguin deserved a proper goodbye too. “Ahem. I’m not a child anymore… Father.”

“No? Then why are you still here?”

He swallowed awkwardly, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He met her stare

“I know you’re just as worried as I am.” He said bluntly.

Father’s expression was almost impossible to read, but Freminet managed to catch a hint of surprise at his words. “I see. How did you come to that conclusion?”

It wasn’t denial, nor was it defensiveness. That was a good sign. Freminet continued, “There is a pinch between your eyebrows that you keep trying to smooth over. You’re gripping your teacup much tighter than usual. Your shoulders are tense. And you were far too quick to dismiss the twins’ concerns. You of all people would know that the situation is severe enough to allow a brief pause to their investigation, but you were swift in making sure they were kept as far away from the situation as possible.”

Arlecchino stared back at Freminet silently. She always had that unsettling way of watching him, as if she was picking apart the cogs and wheels spinning in his mind to know exactly what he was thinking.

“Observant as always, Freminet.” Freminet stood up straighter, pink touching his cheeks. “So, tell me this: what am I to do next?”

“You’re… going to find them yourself?” He asked slowly.

“That is correct. I will be.” Father agreed, and something inside him swelled. If only Lyney was still in the room, he would have collapsed with relief. “And what will you be doing?”

“Helping.” Freminet said without a thought.

“Incorrect. You are going to return to your room, go to sleep, and not say a word to your siblings.”

“But—”

“No. You are not involved here.” Arlecchino turned her back on him, looking out the window with her arms folded behind her.

“Father—”

“Do not forget that if you or your sibling’s interference costs me my mission, [Name]’s blood will be on your hands.”

Freminet recoiled sharply, as if she had struck him across the face. Arlecchino refused to lay a hand on any of them, but her words were more than enough to wound them.

“I—”

“I’m not looking for an argument, Freminet.”

Freminet shut his mouth with a click, lowering his head. He forced back the wave of emotions sweeping across him, sinking them so far into the depths of his mind that not even a champion diver like himself would be able to reach them.

“I am looking for an answer.” Father raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Father.” He said quietly.

“Good child,” She murmured, laying a gentle hand on the top of his head. “You are dismissed.”

-----

Arlecchino made her move at the stroke of sundown.

It was disgustingly easy to track them down, and the sheer incompetence only fuelled her rage until it burned brighter than the flames that curled beneath her skin. The assailants were sloppy, leaving plenty of traces for her to find, as if they were waiting for her to find them.

One of her agents had returned with a slip of paper that evening—a ransom note, crudely explaining that they had captured a House of the Hearth agent, and demanding a hefty sum in exchange for their safe return. She had chuckled at that last part. They would be lucky for her to leave them with their lives after what they have done, let alone a reward.

Their hideout was located in a quiet cave near the ocean, with an entrance half-hidden behind a curtain of vines. It was a quaint spot, a cosy place to sit back and watch the sun set over the water. She was sure the view behind her was breathtaking, but she made no move to take a glance for herself.

The vines made way for a long, narrow tunnel, ending with a wooden door. Arlecchino quietly turned the handle, scoffing under her breath when it turned without a key being inserted, and slipped through without making a single sound.

Six were scattered around the dingy room; one woman, five men. Seeming to be aged between their mid-twenties at the youngest, and early-forties at the oldest.

“Have we got a response yet?” The woman muttered impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.

“How should I know?” One of the men grunted. “We left the note. Eventually it’s gotta make it’s way to the boss herself, and we’ll get the reward.”

“Just gotta be patient,” Another murmured. “Gotta be patient.”

Slightly past them was a wooden cage, secured with a metal lock.

They were in a heap on the floor of the cage, breathing weakly—Arlecchino quietly thanked the Tsaritsa that they were breathing at all—and looked to be passed out.

The fire inside her sang, and she could hardly breathe under the heat of it all.

“How long is this woman gonna take?” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Arlecchino chuckled, causing all of the six to jump. “Oh, then allow me to assure you that you won’t have to wait much longer at all.”

Instantly they were on their feet, grabbing whatever weapon was closest. Their expressions ranged from outright fear, to an egregious amount of confidence for how weak they were in comparison to her.

“Knave,” the closest man grinned crookedly. “How kind of you to join us. I’m assuming you’re here for—” he jerked his head towards the figure still unmoving. “—that one?”

“‘That one’?” Arlecchino repeated slowly, drawing her scythe to her side. “I am here for my child.”

Two of the men—the ones closest to the cage—looked at each other nervously. Arlecchino smiled. It was a pity the rest of the group didn’t share the sense to fear her, but they would learn soon enough.

“Well you see, we’ll be happy to hand them over—” the man’s grin widened. “For a price, of course.”

“A price, you say?” She mused. “How about this. You step aside, I retrieve my child, and offer you a quick death. I would say that is more than fair, considering what you have cost me.”

The smile dropped off the man’s face. “That ain’t an option, lady.”

“Then I think you misunderstand.” She took a step towards him, then another, eyes glinting dangerously in the low light. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Boss—” one of the men tried to say.

“Shut it.” the first man hissed, bringing his shovel up in a defensive position. It was almost laughable, how he thought that would protect him.

“You made four mistakes tonight,” Arlecchino said smoothly. The tip of her scythe brushed the floor, sending a loud scraping sound across the walls. All of the people inside the room winced at the sound, but Arlecchino was unfazed as she continued prowling towards them.

“One… you failed to cover your tracks, making it remarkably easy to track you down.” In one swift motion, she lunged. The group barely had time to blink, before her scythe sliced across the chest of the closest one.

There was silence, before the man made a low gasp, bright crimson blood spilling down his shirt. He collapsed forward onto the ground with a thud, and the room erupted into chaos. A scream tore from the throat of the woman, and she dropped to her knees at his side, desperately clutching his shoulders. Arlecchino aimed a quick strike at her back, and she fell against the man heavily.

“Two, you left the door unlocked.” A pair charged towards her, hammers and shovels swinging. She knocked the weapons from their hands with one hit, and knocked them down with a second.

“Three—” One snuck up from behind, quickly tossing a string of rope over her head and around her neck, pulling harshly to cut off her breathing. An elbow in his ribs winded him enough to loosen his grip, and a knock to the head with the hilt of her scythe sent him to the floor. “You brought far too few people to last in a fight against me.”

The final man stumbled backwards until he hit the wall, shrinking against the bricks. Arlecchino walked with slow steps, stalking towards him like an animal cornering their pray. He shielded his face with his hands, in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Once she was about a foot away, she stopped, leaning in close.

“And four.” Arlecchino grasped the man by the throat, digging her nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. “You hurt my fucking child.”

She tossed his body to the side, watching him hit the wall with a thud and collapse to the ground like a ragdoll.

“Pathetic.” She scoffed under her breath, stepping over his limp body. Her anger wasn’t nearly quelled—an inferno is not easily cooled, after all—but seeing them all lying lifelessly across the floor of their own base at least brought some vindication. She turned her back to the man, looking over at her child.

They were curled up in the cage like a trapped animal, rattling breaths ringing through the bars. Arlecchino gritted her teeth at the sight, making sure to step on the nearest captor’s fingers as she walked over. She swung her scythe against the lock, shattering it into bits of metal.

Her hands were gentle in reaching into the cage, hooking a hand under their knees and cradling their back with the other. They made a pained cry, and Arlecchino hurried to pull them out. She held them close to her chest, letting their cheek rest where her heartbeat pounded against her chest. Her face didn’t falter from that stony expression, but inside she was burning with fury.

“My child,” She murmured, more to herself than the shivering form in her arms. There was something dangerous in her tone, a note of warning to the assailants still conscious enough to hear her voice. She kissed their forehead, a tender gesture out of place among the bloodshed. “Didn’t I promise you that while you’re with me, no one can hurt you?”

“F-Father…?” A broken whisper slipped through their lips, followed by a sob, first sinking Arlecchino’s heart then shattering it into two.

“Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay, darling, I’m here.” She crooned, carrying them out of the room and through the tunnel. All throughout the journey through the tunnel and back onto the beach, she didn’t stop murmuring comforts and pressing kisses to their head in the most maternal way she’d ever remembered acting.

“I’m sorry, Father…” they mumbled, cheek pressed against her chest.

“Darling…” Arlecchino hummed, even as the smouldering ashes in her chest began to spark and flicker. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

The night was cold, but her child was a warm weight in her arms. She revelled in the warmth, a gentle reminder that they were still alive.

“We’ll be home soon,” Arlecchino promised, even though they were barely conscious enough to hear her. “Soon.”

reblogs are appreciated ♡

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ LOST & FOUND platonic arlecchino & reader !

synopsis. hell hath no fury like a parent whose child has been taken from them. contents. PLATONIC. description of blood and injury (mildly graphic but not gory), violence, mentions of kidnapping, swearing (like once), implied murder. house of the hearth!reader. angst & slight hurt/comfort. 2.5k words. notes. LAST REPOST!! my house of the hearth series is all moved here now :'D

It had been fifty-eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes since [Name] had vanished.

Freminet sat curled up in a velvet armchair that dwarfed his small frame, with Pers on his lap and his brother and sister flanking each side. They had both refused Father’s offer of a seat, which showed the severity of the situation more than words ever could.

No one ever refused Father. Even she had raised an eyebrow at their sudden rebellion.

“Lyney, Lynette. Defiance will not make [Name] come home faster. Take a seat.” Father sipped her tea, poised as ever. Even with that impassive mask, Freminet still noticed the tension in her shoulders.

He always noticed.

“There’s no need,” Lyney said shortly, adding on a respectful “Father.” as an afterthought.

“What my brother means—” Lynette cut in smoothly. “—Is that we do not want to draw this conversation out any longer than necessary. We only came to get permission to postpone our current assignment and search for [Name]. I’m sure you can see the circumstances are dire enough to warrant such action.”

“I’m afraid I do not, Lynette.” Father placed her cup down and folded her hands over her lap. “They are a very skilled agent, and this mission was hardly out of their ability. No need to compromise your current—and very important, I might add—mission, for trivial matters.”

“It isn’t trivial, it’s our sibling!” Lyney burst out, causing Freminet to flinch. He reached out a hand blindly to settle on Freminet’s shoulder, squeezing it quickly in both a comfort and apology for startling him.

“I would be mindful of your place within this household, Lyney.” Father said mildly, the warning clear. “I have given you a direct order, and you will follow it. Do not stray from your assigned mission. [Name] will be fine.” She paused for a beat. “You are dismissed.”

“That’s it?” Lyney hissed. “So, you’re going to just leave them to die?”

It sounded like less of a question and more of an accusation. Freminet winced, feeling Lynette stiffen beside him as well as they waited for the consequences of Lyney’s bluntness.

Arlecchino rose from her seat, the tension in the air thick enough to choke all three of the siblings.

“I never said that. [Name] will be home in due time.” Her gaze shifted from the left to the right side of the armchair. “Lynette, you will have tea with me later, won’t you?” Father asked, causing the girl to freeze.

She bit her lip, answering carefully. “I may. Maybe if [Name] returns, we can all have tea together.”

“A good plan,” Father agreed, ignoring the quiet angry undertone of her words. “When I see them, I shall invite them.”

“It had better be soon; it’s getting late.” Lynette countered. Freminet’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Lynette was always better at matching Father’s games. Freminet crumbled under the weight of her gaze, and Lyney wasn’t any better at handling the pressure without his emotions causing him to crack and splinter.

“Lynette, Freminet. Let’s go.” Lyney said sharply.

Throughout the entire exchange, Lyney’s hand had not moved from where it was planted firmly on Freminet’s shoulder, as if he was refusing to let another of his siblings out of his grasp. Freminet might have remarked that Lynette was handling her worry better, but he noticed how her tail kept curling around his leg when they walked into Father’s office. Neither of the three was willing to part with the others for even a second; not when one of their own had gone missing by doing just that.

As he drew back his hand and moved away, Freminet caught his arm.  

“Just… a moment, please. Wait outside, I’ll join you soon.” Freminet murmured, letting go. Lyney pursed his lips.

“Be quick.”

The twins vanished through the doorway, leaving Freminet alone with his Father.

“Freminet dear. You’re hesitating.” Father raised an eyebrow. “Are you waiting for something? Do you want me to give Pers a kiss on the head before I leave?”

Freminet flushed at the memories of holding the toy up to Father when he was young, insisting the penguin deserved a proper goodbye too. “Ahem. I’m not a child anymore… Father.”

“No? Then why are you still here?”

He swallowed awkwardly, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He met her stare

“I know you’re just as worried as I am.” He said bluntly.

Father’s expression was almost impossible to read, but Freminet managed to catch a hint of surprise at his words. “I see. How did you come to that conclusion?”

It wasn’t denial, nor was it defensiveness. That was a good sign. Freminet continued, “There is a pinch between your eyebrows that you keep trying to smooth over. You’re gripping your teacup much tighter than usual. Your shoulders are tense. And you were far too quick to dismiss the twins’ concerns. You of all people would know that the situation is severe enough to allow a brief pause to their investigation, but you were swift in making sure they were kept as far away from the situation as possible.”

Arlecchino stared back at Freminet silently. She always had that unsettling way of watching him, as if she was picking apart the cogs and wheels spinning in his mind to know exactly what he was thinking.

“Observant as always, Freminet.” Freminet stood up straighter, pink touching his cheeks. “So, tell me this: what am I to do next?”

“You’re… going to find them yourself?” He asked slowly.

“That is correct. I will be.” Father agreed, and something inside him swelled. If only Lyney was still in the room, he would have collapsed with relief. “And what will you be doing?”

“Helping.” Freminet said without a thought.

“Incorrect. You are going to return to your room, go to sleep, and not say a word to your siblings.”

“But—”

“No. You are not involved here.” Arlecchino turned her back on him, looking out the window with her arms folded behind her.

“Father—”

“Do not forget that if you or your sibling’s interference costs me my mission, [Name]’s blood will be on your hands.”

Freminet recoiled sharply, as if she had struck him across the face. Arlecchino refused to lay a hand on any of them, but her words were more than enough to wound them.

“I—”

“I’m not looking for an argument, Freminet.”

Freminet shut his mouth with a click, lowering his head. He forced back the wave of emotions sweeping across him, sinking them so far into the depths of his mind that not even a champion diver like himself would be able to reach them.

“I am looking for an answer.” Father raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Father.” He said quietly.

“Good child,” She murmured, laying a gentle hand on the top of his head. “You are dismissed.”

-----

Arlecchino made her move at the stroke of sundown.

It was disgustingly easy to track them down, and the sheer incompetence only fuelled her rage until it burned brighter than the flames that curled beneath her skin. The assailants were sloppy, leaving plenty of traces for her to find, as if they were waiting for her to find them.

One of her agents had returned with a slip of paper that evening—a ransom note, crudely explaining that they had captured a House of the Hearth agent, and demanding a hefty sum in exchange for their safe return. She had chuckled at that last part. They would be lucky for her to leave them with their lives after what they have done, let alone a reward.

Their hideout was located in a quiet cave near the ocean, with an entrance half-hidden behind a curtain of vines. It was a quaint spot, a cosy place to sit back and watch the sun set over the water. She was sure the view behind her was breathtaking, but she made no move to take a glance for herself.

The vines made way for a long, narrow tunnel, ending with a wooden door. Arlecchino quietly turned the handle, scoffing under her breath when it turned without a key being inserted, and slipped through without making a single sound.

Six were scattered around the dingy room; one woman, five men. Seeming to be aged between their mid-twenties at the youngest, and early-forties at the oldest.

“Have we got a response yet?” The woman muttered impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.

“How should I know?” One of the men grunted. “We left the note. Eventually it’s gotta make it’s way to the boss herself, and we’ll get the reward.”

“Just gotta be patient,” Another murmured. “Gotta be patient.”

Slightly past them was a wooden cage, secured with a metal lock.

They were in a heap on the floor of the cage, breathing weakly—Arlecchino quietly thanked the Tsaritsa that they were breathing at all—and looked to be passed out.

The fire inside her sang, and she could hardly breathe under the heat of it all.

“How long is this woman gonna take?” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Arlecchino chuckled, causing all of the six to jump. “Oh, then allow me to assure you that you won’t have to wait much longer at all.”

Instantly they were on their feet, grabbing whatever weapon was closest. Their expressions ranged from outright fear, to an egregious amount of confidence for how weak they were in comparison to her.

“Knave,” the closest man grinned crookedly. “How kind of you to join us. I’m assuming you’re here for—” he jerked his head towards the figure still unmoving. “—that one?”

“‘That one’?” Arlecchino repeated slowly, drawing her scythe to her side. “I am here for my child.”

Two of the men—the ones closest to the cage—looked at each other nervously. Arlecchino smiled. It was a pity the rest of the group didn’t share the sense to fear her, but they would learn soon enough.

“Well you see, we’ll be happy to hand them over—” the man’s grin widened. “For a price, of course.”

“A price, you say?” She mused. “How about this. You step aside, I retrieve my child, and offer you a quick death. I would say that is more than fair, considering what you have cost me.”

The smile dropped off the man’s face. “That ain’t an option, lady.”

“Then I think you misunderstand.” She took a step towards him, then another, eyes glinting dangerously in the low light. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Boss—” one of the men tried to say.

“Shut it.” the first man hissed, bringing his shovel up in a defensive position. It was almost laughable, how he thought that would protect him.

“You made four mistakes tonight,” Arlecchino said smoothly. The tip of her scythe brushed the floor, sending a loud scraping sound across the walls. All of the people inside the room winced at the sound, but Arlecchino was unfazed as she continued prowling towards them.

“One… you failed to cover your tracks, making it remarkably easy to track you down.” In one swift motion, she lunged. The group barely had time to blink, before her scythe sliced across the chest of the closest one.

There was silence, before the man made a low gasp, bright crimson blood spilling down his shirt. He collapsed forward onto the ground with a thud, and the room erupted into chaos. A scream tore from the throat of the woman, and she dropped to her knees at his side, desperately clutching his shoulders. Arlecchino aimed a quick strike at her back, and she fell against the man heavily.

“Two, you left the door unlocked.” A pair charged towards her, hammers and shovels swinging. She knocked the weapons from their hands with one hit, and knocked them down with a second.

“Three—” One snuck up from behind, quickly tossing a string of rope over her head and around her neck, pulling harshly to cut off her breathing. An elbow in his ribs winded him enough to loosen his grip, and a knock to the head with the hilt of her scythe sent him to the floor. “You brought far too few people to last in a fight against me.”

The final man stumbled backwards until he hit the wall, shrinking against the bricks. Arlecchino walked with slow steps, stalking towards him like an animal cornering their pray. He shielded his face with his hands, in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Once she was about a foot away, she stopped, leaning in close.

“And four.” Arlecchino grasped the man by the throat, digging her nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. “You hurt my fucking child.”

She tossed his body to the side, watching him hit the wall with a thud and collapse to the ground like a ragdoll.

“Pathetic.” She scoffed under her breath, stepping over his limp body. Her anger wasn’t nearly quelled—an inferno is not easily cooled, after all—but seeing them all lying lifelessly across the floor of their own base at least brought some vindication. She turned her back to the man, looking over at her child.

They were curled up in the cage like a trapped animal, rattling breaths ringing through the bars. Arlecchino gritted her teeth at the sight, making sure to step on the nearest captor’s fingers as she walked over. She swung her scythe against the lock, shattering it into bits of metal.

Her hands were gentle in reaching into the cage, hooking a hand under their knees and cradling their back with the other. They made a pained cry, and Arlecchino hurried to pull them out. She held them close to her chest, letting their cheek rest where her heartbeat pounded against her chest. Her face didn’t falter from that stony expression, but inside she was burning with fury.

“My child,” She murmured, more to herself than the shivering form in her arms. There was something dangerous in her tone, a note of warning to the assailants still conscious enough to hear her voice. She kissed their forehead, a tender gesture out of place among the bloodshed. “Didn’t I promise you that while you’re with me, no one can hurt you?”

“F-Father…?” A broken whisper slipped through their lips, followed by a sob, first sinking Arlecchino’s heart then shattering it into two.

“Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay, darling, I’m here.” She crooned, carrying them out of the room and through the tunnel. All throughout the journey through the tunnel and back onto the beach, she didn’t stop murmuring comforts and pressing kisses to their head in the most maternal way she’d ever remembered acting.

“I’m sorry, Father…” they mumbled, cheek pressed against her chest.

“Darling…” Arlecchino hummed, even as the smouldering ashes in her chest began to spark and flicker. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

The night was cold, but her child was a warm weight in her arms. She revelled in the warmth, a gentle reminder that they were still alive.

“We’ll be home soon,” Arlecchino promised, even though they were barely conscious enough to hear her. “Soon.”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[romaritimeharbor]

AURORA. — Arlecchino's child has never seen the aurora in Snezhnaya before.

— trigger & content warnings. none applicable!

— pairings & notes. fluff. arlecchino & reader. reader is a member of the house of the hearth, is at least around 15 but is otherwise ambiguous in age, and is implied to be arlecchino's chosen successor. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used). arlecchino is suggested to be taller than the reader by quite a bit. 0.8k words.

— author's thoughts. arlecchino my beloved RAHHH she is literally the best fatui harbinger imo. i love you arle no. 4 of the fatui harbingers 🗣🗣❗️❗️❗️ i am surprised by the lack of platonic arlecchino fics!??!?! she is literally called father guys please /lh

       "Father..."

       Shadowing under the Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers during one of her trips to Snezhnaya was, no doubt, nervewracking and tiring despite them never needing to do anything other than follow her around; Arlecchino simply wouldn't allow some of her coworkers to even look in their direction, let alone try to speak to them. Some, like Tartaglia, however, were momentarily permitted to; Childe had talked their ear off while Arlecchino was occupied with the Regrator and the Rooster, though they could only wordlessly nod in response to the never-ending chatter about his siblings. 'You should come by sometime,' he had said. 'You kids from the Hearth are a good lot, and my family would be more than happy to have visitors.'

       Nevertheless, really, they hadn't done much at all... but perhaps the anxiety of dipping their toes into their Harbinger's responsibilities—the ones that they may very well inherit one day—was a valid enough reason to be so mentally tired.

       Standing close behind her, listening to her speak with her coworkers (it was quite amusing to see the glare and scowl fixed on her face when she needed to speak to the Doctor—she never looked at them or any of their siblings like that—though the sheer terror his presence induced was enough to drown that amusement out), seeing the details of her responsibilities that others could not...

       They were certain that they must've said a mere one or two words during the whole visit—a "Yes, Father" or a "No, Father," directed at none other than their Harbinger and her alone.

       Exhaustion and cold seeped into their bones, but nonetheless, they had stopped trailing after her and stared up in wonderment.

       Arlecchino stopped shortly after they did, turning back to them. "What is it?"

       Colors danced freely in the nighttime Snezhnayan sky. Despite the chill permeating their flesh (they were reminded that they probably should have dressed a bit more warmly, but they weren't familiar with the Motherland, and therefore didn't anticipate how cold the night would get), they felt no compulsion to rush.

       "Look. The aurora," they murmured, eyes wide with awe and wonder.

       The Knave's heels clicked on the tiled terrace at the front of the Winter Palace as she paced back over to them, following their gaze upwards. "Have you never seen it before?"

       "No. I... I've never been to Snezhnaya before now," they admitted, "so I have never seen the aurora. I've heard about it, but—"

       "I understand. It is more magnificent than even the most vivid descriptions."

       Suddenly, the heavy weight of the Knave's coat fell onto their shoulders. They gingerly clasped the edges, pulling it closer to their body as to fend off the biting chill in the air. Lavender and a vague twinge of smoke filled their lungs. To some, it may have been an unpleasant combination—perhaps others would find the smoke too stinging and bitter or the lavender too sickening, as some do. To them, however, it was simply... Father's scent. It was hard to dislike when the person they associated it with was so important to their life.

       It was equally hard to feel cold with her coat draped over their body.

       Father's particular scent made a comforting warmth stir in their chest—perhaps she was not really their Father, but it was times such as this that made them feel that she was—and her coat ensured that their exterior did not freeze.

       In fact, it was quite impossible to feel cold now.

       "...Let us stay for a while longer, then," she mused, one of her hands finding its place on their upper back. "The aurora is a sight to behold, and there are no urgent matters to attend to at home."

       Momentarily, their gaze broke away from the sky and shifted to the Harbinger instead. Though they did appreciate the gesture of giving them her coat... "Won't you get cold, Father?"

       Their concern was not unwarranted, but indeed unecessary.

       "Worry not," the Fourth replied smoothly, reaching over to adjust the coat somewhat; it was too big for them and threatened to slip off of their body if their already gentle hold were to loosen even slightly. Arlecchino absently mused to herself about how utterly unintimidating they were, drowning in the fluff of her coat and head just barely able to peek out from the top. It was cute, though she dared not say admit such a thing out loud. "I have long since grown used to this weather. You have not."

       'You need that coat far more than I do.'

       That was what she wanted to say, or rather what she was implying; she would speak her mind if she so truly desired to or felt the need to. They'd grown quite used to her enigmatic nature and quite skilled in reading between the lines, picking apart her words at the seams to uncover what she truly meant to say.

       Suddenly, under the flickering purples, greens, and blues of the night sky, it was no longer cold.

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[idyllic-affections]

Would u please do Arlecchino adopting a reader? I just want to be adopted by our dearest Arlecchino

warmth.

summary. arlecchino's warmth is quite an effective repellent for snezhnaya's everlasting cold.

trigger & content warnings. home invasion, gunshots are mentioned, a bit of violence in general, reader's parents are murdered (not by arlecchino) but it is non-descriptive and reader does not witness it.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. hurt/comfort, found family-ish. arlecchino & child!reader. 1.1k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

author's thoughts. hehehehehe arle <3 i was supposed to write a fic featuring kafka (hsr) today in celebration of her coming home. Erm. yeah. That did not happen! clearly. /lh

       It happened all too quickly.

       It truly was a peaceful night, just like any other. The fire crackled on soothingly in the background, shadows dancing on the walls, and the warmth staving off the frigid cold that was all but characteristic of Snezhnaya's nights. Peering out the window would reveal the light, steady snowfall; typically, more blizzard-like conditions would be present, but perhaps the Tsaritsa was in quite a good mood that night in particular, for the snow was gentle in its falling and the winds did not rage on cruelly, biting and nipping angrily at any unfortunate person caught out in the middle of the storm.

       Their mother hummed a soft lullaby to them as her calloused fingers, all thanks to years of sewing and hunting combined, rubbed up and down their back. Their father had been in the kitchen—cooking was a responsibility shared between their parents (and really, how could he have asked his wife to move when their beloved, sweet child was half-asleep on her lap? That was a /far/ too wicked request. No, he would not dare disturb theirs and their mother's peace).

       ...And in a split second, it had all come crumbling down.

       Someone's weight was thrown against the door, causing a loud slam! to resonate within the walls.

       Once, and their mother sprung up, jerking them awake with her motions. In their half-asleep state, they hardly understood what was going on as their father rushed defensively out of the kitchen with an axe.

       Twice, and their mother gathered them in her arms before darting towards the back of the house—the absolute farthest end—at her husband's command. She rushed into one of the bedrooms, swiftly ripping the closet door open and pushing them in, insisting quietly that they hid among the pile of thick winter coats where they would not be seen.

       "You just have to hide for a little, okay?" she murmured softly, deft hands pulling coats over their little body and face. "And remember—stay quiet, okay? Shh."

       At the end of her sentence, she made a shushing motion with a shaky, trembling smile.

       Perhaps it was her attempt at soothing them, but children are often not so easily fooled. The gesture did naught to calm their pounding heart. She had done her best to look certain and reassuring, but all it did was make them all the more terrified.

       Their mother stood up, closing the closet door only slightly; it may look suspicious if it had been closed completely, she thought.

       Then, she was gone, and they were left only with the company of their thoughts.

       It was mostly quiet for a few minutes. They could vaguely make out the muffled sounds of talking—fighting, more accurately. It sounded angry. As if these invasive strangers were demanding something.

       They choked back a sob as the walls shook around them due to the noise. A scream, then a gunshot, then another, and then silence.

       Through the silence, they could discern the sound of wet slicing. Their heart dropped further into the endless pit of their stomach as they tried their best to curl further into themselves and the pile of coats.

       Click, click, click...

       Heels, gradually getting louder as their wearer approached. Someone was coming. Someone was going to find them.

       It all happened far too quickly.

       ...And now, before them, none other than the Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers was kneeled. It was not hard for her to find them, not with all their shuffling and shaking and heavy, anxious breathing.

       Interestingly, she was far less threatening than what they thought she might be. They didn't doubt that she had the capacity to be absolutely horrifying, but with them...

       "You can come out now," she encouraged. Her tone could hardly be described as forceful; if anything, she was... suprisingly gentle. Patient, even, as she held out her hand invitingly. It was as if she were coaxing a frightened animal out from its hiding place. "There is no longer anything to be afraid of."

       Still, they hesitated. "Where—" Their throat was dry with terror and their little voice trembled as it came out. With shaking hands, they moved some of the coats off of them. The Knave did note, however, that they clung to one particlar coat; it must have belonged to one of their parents, if she had to guess. Children clung onto sentimental items like that. They swallowed and tried again: "Where are my parents?"

       "They are no longer with us. I am sincerely sorry. Had I arrived sooner, they might have lived."

       A tremble shook their whole body—whether it was from the cold seeping into their house through the open front door (though the room they were in was a few twists and turns in a hallway away, the Snezhnayan cold was a unique beast in that it could turn a house frigid in a matter of seconds) or from grief, they could not be sure.

       "Where..." They sniffled, hands balled into small fists as they tried to rub away the tears gathering in their eyes. "What do I do? I don't wanna be alone..."

       "You won't be," Arlecchino said. "You will come with me. You will never be alone again."

       All they could do was stumble out of the closet, coat held firmly in their hands and nod. Where else were they supposed to go? Furthermore, how were they meant to say no to a Fatui Harbinger? She was kind enough to offer to take them somewher, and truly, anywhere would have been better than the cold and lonely house in which their parents were killed.

       Though, it was greatly debatable whether the Fourth was being kind or opportunistic.

       At their young age, they couldn't wrap their mind around any ulterior motives she may have had. They could not so much as consider such a thing, not when she so kindly and tenderly took the coat from their hands, wrapped it around their shivering body, and hoisted them up into her arms. She radiated a warmth that they could not help but lean into, head coming to rest on her squared and confident shoulder. It was not so unbearbly cold when they were in her arms.

       One might regard her mannerisms... parental, as if she had great experience with young children and their needs. It surely seemed so, considering how effortlessly and fluidly she handled them. It was like she had done it a million times before.

       Indeed, it would not be surprising if that were the case.

       Arlecchino hummed, adjusting their weight in her arms slightly.

       Then, her nails softly raked over their head and through their hair. Her smooth, self-assured voice reached their ears with a command they could not deny or resist:

       "Rest for now, little one."

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[lovehypegirl]

APPRENTICE OF THE DUKE

paring: platonic!gn!reader x platonic!wriothesley synopsis: the apprentice of the Duke of Meropide and heir of position of Duke wc: 0.6k warnings.ᐟ none type: headcanons

Before you became the apprentice of the Duke of Meropide, you were selected from a group of trainee Gaurdes as a teenager, to be sent to the fortress for a program to learn how to deal with high-intensity situations

During your time at the Fortress, you learned how to keep order within the rowdy prisoners, guard cells, and monitor the prisoners during their work hours

Towards the middle of your program, your instructors had been regularly congratulating you on how you've excelled during the duration of the program

Naturally, these words managed to reach Wriothesley who had met you and your fellow trainee's when the program began

He asked to see you and offered you a position to work at one of the top Gaurdes once you graduated from the program, and you, excited to move up in the world, accepted his offer

Once you graduated at the top of the program, you immediately moved to the fortress as one of the top Gaurdes

Of course, they didn't accept you in a warmhearted fashion since you were young and inexperienced which made you want to step up and prove to them that you were able to work on their level

You were able to move through the ranks quickly. Earning the favor and respect of your fellow Gaurdes and even the prisoners

As usual, Wriothesley heard of your endeavors and offered you a spot to work closely with him. As his right hand.

Your uniform changed drastically when you changed positions. It changed from a dark red and dark grey uniform to a black and gold uniform

It consisted of a black overcoat worn on the shoulders, a black waistcoat with gold detailing, a puffy white blouse underneath, black pants with gold detailing by the seams, and black boots.

You carried a rapier sword by your side as a show of your position in Meropide

In addition, you also wore a small broach that was similar to the one that Wriothesley wore with the wolf emblem

When you first arrived, you brought in exotic tea leaves from Sumeru, Liyue, and Inazuma as a gift of thanks for bringing you in as his right-hand

Because of this gesture, he immediately liked you. I mean, tea was his favorite thing

Your duties at the Lady/Lord of Meropide included a copious amount of paperwork, spending way less time on the surface, and your sparring lessons from Wriothesley

During downtime, he would take you to the boxing ring when it was unoccupied and train you in his style of boxing. Teaching you to use his gauntlets and whatnot

You usually were the one to run important paperwork to the Palais Mermonia and you were to hand said paperwork directly to Neuvillette

You handled a lot of arrests, but because of your position, you didn't handle your day-to-day arrests of treasure hoarders and pickpockets stupid enough to get caught

No, you handled the high-intensity arrests

Serial killers, heavily armed robbers, criminals at the top of Fontaine's wanted list

Wriothesley was very proud of your work and how you handled yourself considering how dangerous your job was

He decided to make you his heir

After he made his decision, your work became more intense

He felt the need to train you to the highest extent to ensure that you would survive

He began to show you secrets like the abandoned civilization of ships under Fontaine's seas

Far into your training, he showed you the sluice gate where the Primordial Sea was being held back. His main concern was how you would handle the emergency of the sluice gate opening when you were in leadership

You managed to prove yourself when you immediately took action when Fontaine was flooded

Your actions helped ease his mind and place more trust in you leading The Fortress of Meropide in the case that he would step down

After a while, the Duke's name was still one of fear for convicts but so was yours. The word had begun to spread of the right-hand Lady/Lord of the Duke of Meropide. A person who wasn't meant to be messed with

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