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shiningsunlighthalation · 5 months ago

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Red-Faced Beauty

Summary: Your beloved, one of the Fatui Harbingers, is a figure of grace and dominance. Those around her regard her with awe or terror, either response appropriate when interacting with someone who holds authority second only to the god of your nation. But surely, she isn't as unflappable as she appears. You can definitely catch her off guard and fluster her enough to make the heat rise to her cheeks, right? Right?

Signora may have been a proud and arrogant woman with a heart she had claimed had long frozen over, but she still had her moments of acting as the flustered maiden she used to be.

Often draped over her like a lovely shawl, you were never too far away from her side nor did it take too long for you to find her once she returned from an assignment.

And for as haughty as she was, Signora adored that about you, something she made clear whenever she would pepper your face with kisses and left lipstick marks on your face. She rather liked how flustered you would get whenever she showered you with affection.

But should you manage to fluster her, Signora's face would redden to a shade worthy of her real name.

And she's as "irate" as you expected her to be. For how dare you reduce The Fair Lady, La Signora of the Fatui Harbingers, to the state of a blushing ingenue?!

After you coo at this rare this display of embarrassment from your lover, you're practically "chased" away while Signora regains her composure.

After returning from a diplomatic venture, Signora had retreated to her quarters for some rarely acquired downtime. Setting her signature funerary mask down onto her vanity and selecting a tube of lipstick to apply as she sat down in front of the mirror.

As she touched up her makeup, she was not oblivious to the sound of her door opening or your footsteps approaching her. You typically arrived not long after she did, eager to spend time with her whenever possible.

Watching you through your reflection, Signora flashed you a smile, at least as much of a smile as she was able to form while trying to perfectly apply her lipstick. "You certainly didn't waste any time, did you? Not even a full ten minutes since I sat down and you've alrea—"

You didn't say a word as you walked up where Signora was seated and calmly took the lipstick tube out of her hands before setting it down on the vanity. Before Signora could ask you what you were doing, you took her face in your hands and greedily claiming her lips with your own. You smirked into the kiss when she made a muffled noise of surprise and pulled away, taking a second to marvel at her speechlessness before planting a kiss on her forehead and painting her brow with a smooch with the lipstick that had smeared onto your lips.

The Fair Lady's kiss abused lips parted and closed at your spontaneity as a crimson hue spread across her face.

You couldn't suppress your laughter. "That's a really lovely color on you!" You gently cupped Signora's face in your hands, even squishing her cheeks for emphasis, while slowly turning her face back to the vanity mirror.

Signora let out a scoff of indignation as she shook her face free from your hold. "Such...! Such nerve!" Her face ablaze, she refused to face you, instead summoning her floating white catalyst with a wave of her hand and sending a flurry of snow your way that caused you to flee her quarters while both laughing and squealing from the cold.

You really hoped to make The Knave lose her composure? How adorable.

She loved you dearly and by virtue of being her beloved, you saw her in ways most others would not, but not even you have been graced by the sight of Arlecchino's vulnerable side.

She was still a master in bringing out yours, however. Every gaze, touch, and hum of her voice practically carefully designed to have you purring for her.

And yet, the most you would be able to accomplish is bringing a lovely smile to her otherwise stoic face.

But you would not be deterred! Arlecchino may have been a collected woman, but she was not above feeling the burning heat of excitement that she often induces in her lover!

It didn't matter if you had never seen her blush before. Surely someone who had flames coursing through her body like blood would be capable of it!

...And if she was, you wouldn't be able to see. No matter what you did, Arlecchino would be able to turn the tables on you and leave you a blushing mess instead, confused but entertained by your antics.

It wasn't often that the Knave had spare time, but whenever it wasn't spent with you, she would spend it in the House of the Hearth with a book. With the older children away to complete missions and the younger children off playing, she now had some much needed time to relax. Though she enjoyed the company of her children, Arlecchino was grateful for the quiet she now had to enjoy reading with only the crackling hearth breaking the silence.

Eventually, the sound of the door opening further interrupted the quiet. Glancing at the entrance, she noticed a bouquet of rainbow roses coming through shortly before you did.

"Welcome back," she greeted, returning her gaze to her book while she spoke to you. "Would those be for me, perhaps?"

You merely giggled in response as you strode over to her, plopping down next to her on the couch. Putting the bouquet down in her lap, you grabbed her face, your fingers messily brushing through her hair as you did so, and planted kisses on both of her cheeks. "Of course they are! I hope you like them!"

You expected—or more accurately, you hoped—to finally see Arlecchino blush, hoping that your surprise gestures would have lowered her guard just a bit. You had hoped that the Knave would redden from your gestures, that she would be more willing to display such a "weakness" to you, her beloved, now that the two of you were alone.

But alas, things would never be so easy when dealing with the Fourth Harbinger.

Chuckling, Arlecchino set down her book, hooked an arm around your waist to bring you into her lap, and grasped your chin between her fingers to draw you into a kiss. Her blackened fingers had slipped under your shirt and traced a pattern in your skin before gripping your side. After she broke away, she took a single rainbow rose from the bouquet you had gifted her. "Feeling bold, are we? I wonder what I did to receive such affection today." She gently trailed the rose along your cheek before tucking it behind your ear. "I'm flattered, my dear."

She did it again. She had you right where she wanted you and left you too sheepish to speak again. You could only groan and bring a hand to your face in frustration over having failed once again.

But because you were too busy facepalming, you didn't notice that Arlecchino's ear, made visible after you had mussed up her hair earlier, was bright red.

The blush that you had been longing to see on her face had been on her ears the whole time.

Unfortunately, you wouldn't find out because Arlecchino was quick to her fix her hair to hide her little secret while she watched you bemoan your "failure".

To be honest, you weren't sure if Sandrone could blush. You weren't even sure if she could even blink.

So beautiful and doll-like, there were times when you'd wonder if she as an actual doll with her near perfect composure and eerie smile whenever something amused her.

As a reclusive woman who was greatly dedicated to her work, you and Sandrone being in a relationship was a feat in and of itself, so getting her to blush would be a miracle.

Even though, she would always thank you for them, gestures and displays of affection seemed to have no effect on her. It was often a smile or a nod to acknowledge you.

Sandrone would never understand why you'd seem so downtrodden after doing something nice for her or why you would inspect her face so intently, but surely a pat on the head would make you feel better?

You were careful to tiptoe around the scattered blueprints that littered the floor of the Seventh Harbinger's workshop. Even if she had tossed them aside, Sandrone would occasionally pick them back up if she could think of ways they could be worthwhile inventions.

With her ruin guard attendant, Meilleur-Seymour, standing dutifully by her side, Sandrone was seated at her desk, hunched over while drawing up a new blueprint. Her gaze was as unblinking as ever and her rhythm was completely unaffected by your presence.

"I have something for you!" Though her back was to you, you held up a cup of coffee. Being so engrossed in her research, Sandrone would often forget to eat or drink. And if she didn't forget, she would claim to not be hungry. But after seeing how that worried you, she would allow you to bring her little gifts while she worked so long as you didn't make a mess.

"Leave it here." She didn't even bother to turn around.

Rather than simply leave the coffee and be done with it, you made your way over to her and slowly removed the pencil she was using to draw her new blueprint from her hand. Most Fatui agents had never even seen Sandrone, but if they had, and they were bold enough to do what you just done, they would've lost their whole hand.

Thankfully, Sandrone would not do such a thing to her lover. Instead, she looked at you in stoic confusion, curious as to what you were doing. Her expression did not change when you leaned in for a kiss.

After pulling away, you smiled and put the coffee in her delicate hands. "You deserve to take a break, don't you think?" You stood there and watched, waiting for Marionette's face to become a lovely red color that would complement her doll-like features.

But Sandrone only smiled and said, "In a few minutes."

Frustrated, you gently cupped her face. Narrowing your eyes, you desperately searched for a rosy hue, not wanting your efforts to once again be in vain.

To Sandrone, your inspection came off as you being upset with her for taking too long to take a break. "In... one minute?"

With a sigh, you hung your head at yet another failed attempt.

Sandrone had no idea what was going on, but she could tell you were upset for some reason. She wanted to reach out and pat your head, but she was reluctant to put down the coffee you so kindly gifted her, so she looked to Meilleur-Seymour and jerked her head in your direction, silently ordering him to pat your head in her place.