#where. is. arlecchino.

[rizsu]

of importance lyney, neuvillette.

sum. what happens when dealing with an unserious partner and another who's never easy to read and secretly emotional.

it's unusually quiet for a friday. if lyney's not practicing magic tricks, he's flirting your ears off. whatever the case may be, lyney is always within an arm's reach but today isn't like that. ever since he rolled out of bed, lyney kept contact short and busied himself with anything but you.

not that it's a big deal — he's a magician. a nation-wide famous magician. of course he's not going to be glued to you like a velcro strap but who's to say his mind isn't spiralling with you?

lyney isn't busy. he snuck out under the guise of work to practice a cheesy, lovey-dovey magic trick. the trick's simple: in one hand, he'll create the illusion of pulling a cloth through it with another. at the end of the cloth, he'll crumple it in his fist to reveal a key covered in rainbow rose's petals. when you retrieve the key, he'll then guide you to a locked chest; open it and there lies a bouquet mixed with marcottes and rainbow roses, a letter, and an envelope.

in all honesty, lyney thinks the trick's destined to fail. he's already hidden the chest — the problem lies in the first part. he knows no fear until it comes to showing you any tricks. tricks that aren't for the opera theatre. the difference between you and them isn't big: you know most secrets behind his tricks, they don't. hopefully you're too amazed by him to understand the "magic" behind it.

taking baby steps into your home, he sneaks behind you, tapping on your shoulder to surprise you. "what'ya doing?"

you took a sharp turn around, raising your hand to defend only to stop yourself. "oh my god, lyney, don't scare me like that!"

lyney laughs, finding amusement in you. sitting on the bed, he prepares himself for the mini magic show. with both hands behind his back, lyney speaks, "i have a little something to show you."

"really?" you questioned, paying more attention to your moisturizer.

"yes, so focus on me," demanding your attention on him, he stands up with a little jump, lips pressed into a cheeky smile.

"i know that look on your face." your eyes squinted, already guessing what's about to happen.

lyney can only smile in response, tilting his head as he focused his eyes on you. feeling confident in his skills, he begins the play.

"eyes on me, okay?"

"yes, yes," nodding you, lean on the dressing counter, pouring all your attention on his hands.

unfortunately, the feeling of doom lyney felt earlier proved itself to be true. just before he could've crumpled the petal-covered key, everything fell out of the cloth.

"oh—"

"should i — should i turn around?" you asked, stifling a giggle. while lyney looks betrayed, you felt your stomach harden at every attempt to not laugh.

"no," he spoke, feeling no shame, lyney walks to you, one hand secured on your lower back as the other stations itself on the counter. "i have a better idea."

"oh!" now it's your turn to be stunned.

"monsieur neuvillette, don't you dare think of running away." you barged into his office, taking large, demanding steps towards him.

neuvillette's confused. he has no intention of running — it's unsightly for his position in fontaine. his confusion only increases when you slammed both hands on his desk.

"my apologies, monsieur neuvillette! i tried to stop her," the security melusine apologizes, clearing the situation on her half to neuvillette. she shoots you a glare due to your unmannerly entrance at such an important place.

"it's all right, do not fret," he responds, redirecting his eyes to you. "what happened?"

"you, mr. justice, forgot something didn't you?" you started, lacing your tone with pettiness.

his confusion bar reaching its peak, neuvillette's face remained calm in contrast to him racking his brain to remember what he forgot. there's no way he forgot anything. he's a scheduled man who gets things done within one-to-two business days!

"i'm not certain. if such happened then i apologize, my dear."

you can only sigh, dramatically dropping your head. deciding it'll be best to remind him, you spoke, "maybe i should've requested a trial. it was our anniversary yesterday."

shock, disbelief, and many other unknown human-related emotions swirled through neuvillette. although he knows not a sentence about anniversaries and its importance to your kind, he knows it's something you treasure.

"forgive me, please."

"it's okay, i just wanted to tease you!" you attempted to reassure him. however, such methods doesn't work on him. he will make it up to you. whether it's today, this evening or tonight.

"it is not okay. if you aren't busy, i will clear my schedule right now," neuvillette spoke with dominance. he's not allowing this to go by.

you stretch an arm out to pinch his cheek, giving in to his words. "you already know i'm never busy."

"that i do," he nods, signing off his name to declare the end of his shift.

neuvillette walks to you, taking your hand in his. giving your hand a light squeeze, he apologizes again, "please, forgive my ignorance."

"hey, it's okay. you're not a machine to remember everything," you reassured him again, moving your gaze to the windows. "huh — wasn't it sunny just a minute ago? why's it so cloudly?"

neuvillette doesn't respond. too immersed sulking at the thought of missing something so important to you by an entire day.

[crispykodraws]

Genshin Trash: House of the Hearth Edition

[majunju]

sweets

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

I'm new to this Sagau and stuff, tbh i like how every archon and people regret after knowing the reader was the real creator... So if its not a trouble to request.

I kinda wanna know what the whole teyvat and archons reaction when the impostor they were trying to hunt down was the Real Creator and what would be their reaction to Foul Legacy/Childe is the only person reader trusted,

oh the first emotion would be cold, suffocating horror

horror at the fact that they accused you of being a fake. horror at how they hunted and hurt you. horror at your new form, your diminutive Melusine self. and horror that of all people, of all beings in the entirety of Teyvat, you cling to an Abyssal monster for comfort. the only Archon who even knew a smidgen of your rebirth is Furina- although she insists she's not the Archon anymore, and that in itself is the only reason Neuvillette allowed her a fragment of the secret he and a few others are keeping for you. so she's tight-lipped when the other Archons descend on Fontaine to question her, brushing their relentless questions off as they're not her concern, even if she has tea with you in Merusea Village every Tuesday. besides, the Melusine were her people, when she ruled. she's not going to give up the location of their home, just because a few gods can't keep their noses out of your business!

Foul Legacy and the Melusine, and your few other allies, are firm in protecting you when the entirety of Teyvat attempts to seek your forgiveness. Legacy sticks by your side wherever you go, even if its just to the caverns outside of the village. he soothes and comforts you whenever the stress causes old injuries to flare, rumbling quietly and nuzzling against your mittenish hands, against the shimmering markings where there were once scars. you shall do nothing unless you want to, that's what he thinks. all of Teyvat can go hang for how they abused and isolated you, he doesn't care. let them suffer. but you're kinder, despite all you've been through, something Foul Legacy admires greatly. so quietly, you agree to see one god, alone, without telling any of the others

Lesser Lord Kusanali can't help but smile and clap her hands when countless Melusine appear in her dreams, leading her to you

[cluescorner]

Every other harbinger: My coworkers are fucking insane and I hate them. I'd probably have killed them by now if we weren't on the same side. Why in the fuck am I forced to put up with these selfish, pathetic, obnoxious imbeciles?!!!

Capitano: *Exists*

Every other harbinger: omg Capitano

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[dreemurrinthenight]

since i keep getting them mixed up when i see fanart i’ll just pop this comparison here

just saying, they look terribly similar

[tea-cat-arts]

Holy trinity of "Highest level of praise I can give to a fictional character" featuring my Fontaine favs

[yogfan14]

I'm sick and I can't sleep as a result so guess what that means!!!

5am draw the squad but with my current Genshin team (yes I know my team is all over the place I just like them ur honor)

og base under the cut yeehaw

[iliveunderarock]

genshin doodles that i dont think i posted here??!

[lumiconic]

" even the sun is soft on the eyes "

✧ swimming with them at different times of day

✧ lyney, lynette, arlecchino ; fluff; it was supposed to have childe and freminent but i ran out of steam T.T

  lyney has a pyro vision, you know that; so his affinity for water must be nothing more than yet another magic trick. it doesn’t help that the golden sun, hanging high in the sky, practically blinds you with its light. when he flicks his hand and a spray from the river goes flying into your eyes, you consider dunking him if he likes it so much.

  “stop splashing me,” you protest, swatting him on the arm. “aren’t you supposed to be looking for rainbow lilies, or whatever?”

  “rainbow roses,” he corrects, wading through the river. his boots are on the bank and his pants are rolled up to his knees, but the vaguely expensive-looking fabric is already drenched, the stain spreading. he barely seems to notice, turning to you as he steps backward. “and if you aren’t gonna get in the water, then i’ll bring the water to – ”

  and then he’s gone with a massive splash, and you start laughing as you watch the flailing mass that’s his not-quite-able-to-swim self sink to the bottom of the river. and then you stop laughing and remember that oh yeah, he’s not quite able to swim. and then you start panicking and dive after him. 

  the water is freezing. it’s the hottest day you’ve had in ages but the deeper you swim, the colder it gets, goosebumps pricking up your arms that you’re barely able to see. you blink the blurriness from your eyes, chasing after lyney, who’s kicking furiously but still sinking with the weight of the heavy cape-thing trailing from his waistcoat. 

  he doesn’t look nervous or even slightly concerned yet. in truth, he could probably snap his fingers and magic himself back onto the riverbank. it’s ridiculous, but you can’t just swim away. at the very least, lynette would kill you. 

  he opens his mouth and a bunch of bubbles stream up towards the surface. his teeth gleam in the pale blue light. he seems to be able to see the scowl on your face, eyes crinkling; a school of gleaming silver fish whirls between you, and when it disappears, he’s on the bottom of the river, scraping into a gently waving anemone. 

  you want to shout what are you doing? but your voice won’t make any noise, much less travel to where he is, while in the water. you punch the water wildly, connecting with a fish exactly as lyney looks up. it squeals, darts away, and he looks at you like you’re a monster. you throw your hands up, floating in place for a moment, before paddling towards him again. 

  he’s still pawing through the fronds of a glowing mushroom-looking thing. you can see the shining blue powder collecting under his fingernails from where you are. he looks like he’s walking along the bottom, one hand clapped over his mouth and the other clenched on a rock to keep him anchored. you scoff, bubbles escaping your lips, and kick towards the bottom.

  “hey!” you hear him exclaim, though it’s more like a garbled shout than an actual word as you link one arm through his, tugging him away from the plants. this deep, it’s like you’ve plunged into a bathtub full of ice cubes. you have no idea how he’s dealing with the cold. “i’m – ”

  the rest of it is lost in bubbles as you brace your legs against the sandy floor, pushing downwards as hard as you can, and you go rocketing towards the sky. he makes some protesting noise, trying to wrestle out of your grip, but you hold on tightly. he would sink like a rock, and then you would have to fight him to come up again. you want to roll your eyes, but… you can’t force yourself to be annoyed. not really.

  you realize his vision is emanating heat. the longer he clings to your arm, the more warmth spreads through you. the river feels less like an ice cube, more like a hot spring. under his puffy sleeves, you can just barely feel his skin, as hot as a fire. if you held on for too long, you might get burned. 

  but right now, it’s okay. right here, when it’s just you and him.

  “i was doing fine,” is the first thing lyney says when his head breaks the surface. you let him go and swim a few feet away. he shakes droplets out of his hair, spraying in a circle; you can’t complain this time since you’re soaking wet too. it’s all you can do not to push him back under. “and i got a bunch of them!”

  “your sister would steal a gardemek and run me over if i just let you sink down there.” you glare at him, crossing your arms as you find a place to stand, feet barely scraping the underwater grass. “i’ve seriously had enough of you – how can you possibly live in fontaine and not know how to swim? and a bunch of what?”

  he digs in his coat, opening his mouth then closing it, a look of panic passing over his face. “w-wait – there’s no way i dropped it as i was coming up, right? after all that work?” he pats down his pockets, eyes going wide as plates. “i think i really did… oh, how could this happen! and i was so proud of myself, too.”

  despite yourself, your face softens. even if you’re annoyed, you have to feel bad at his rapidly mounting dismay. “what did you lose? i can go get it for you, if it’s that important.”

  his gaze whisks to you and you see the corner of his mouth turn up. he reaches towards you, scanning the water and the air around your face as you tilt your head up. “just – wait, i think i see it… aha!” he flicks the wet hair away from your temple and pulls a rainbow rose, shimmering and delicate, from behind your ear. “there it is.” 

  “you – ” you’re speechless, heat creeping up your neck. “where the hell… ”

  “a magician never reveals his secrets, etcetera etcetera.” lyney winks at you, peeling back his sleeve, and a whole pile of flowers falls into the water, bobbing there. the colors are iridescent, gleaming and fantastical. they looks like magic. though, maybe it’s not fair to compare them to magic, not when he’s right there.

  you search for words for a long moment. it’s harder than you would think, with his eyes on you. he shifts his weight forward, displacing the roses in the water. “... you know, you’re supposed to do that trick with a coin.”

  lyney clicks his tongue. “i thought you’d have figured out by now that i don’t do things the conventional way, my lovely.” the name makes your heart beat a bit faster. you swallow. he offers you the first rose and lifts his eyebrows. “go on, you can have it. put it in a vase and think of me whenever you see it.”

  “as if i need a reminder to think of you,” you mumble, taking it and rolling it between your hands. he seems not to hear you, humming as he turns, dragging the tips of his fingers through the surface. the petals are soft, yellow stamen dripping with a thick, sweet scented nectar. “but this is nice too, i guess.”

   you sit on the beach, gazing at lynette through your sunglasses as she skips through the grass a little while away. her boots don’t sink into the ground, moving like she’s lighter than air, despite the sun-softened, slightly damp earth; the tides washing up gently on the sand don’t seem to have any effect on it, either. or maybe she’s not really touching the ground at all. 

  she bends, scoops a glittering silver shell out of the water and pockets it. the water drips through the gauzy fabric of her leotard, and she twirls in place, skirt spinning out. water droplets spray in a circle, carrying through the air in a sudden breeze. she looks towards the horizon, seeming to watch the grass and trees sway in the wind.

  “hey,” you call out. “come here a second.” her ears twitch in your direction and she approaches you, tilting her head down. her hair blows gently back and forth, carrying the sweet scent of peaches and mint towards you, like a fragrant tea. you wouldn’t be surprised if that really was a flavor of tea she had been drinking earlier; you need to tell her sometimes to quit overdoing the caffeine. too often you’ve found her after midnight, reading with bags under her eyes and a teapot emptied ten times over.

  she sits down and you slide your sunglasses onto her head, pushing them down over her eyes. her tail twitches. “what are you doing?”

  “you shouldn’t look directly at the sun,” you admonish. “i know a boy who went out every day without glasses or anything and one day he went blind just like that.” you snap your fingers on the last word. her expression doesn’t change and she doesn’t make any noise, but you feel like you can feel an aura of disapproval radiating from her. you wilt, pouting at her. “huh, no reaction?”

  “you’re obviously lying,” she says plainly.  “i can tell from spending so much time around lyney.”

  “oh, of course,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips. you get to your feet. “come on, we’re here, so why don’t we go in the water? you know a lot of tricks, so you should show me!” 

  you can’t quite see lynette’s eyes through the dark sunglasses, but she shifts her weight to one side, leaning on her hip and unbuckling her boots hesitantly. “... they’re nothing special, but if you really want to see, then i guess – ” 

  “great!” you cheer, pumping your fist and tugging her over the ground to the shallows by the arm. you can’t help but shiver at the sudden chill, but she barely looks bothered, moving like the water doesn’t even exist. her steps are light, sending pale gold sand billowing through the waves, and she whisks away from you in an instant as though she’s dancing.

  she reorients herself, facing a marble pillar edged in gold that sticks out of the water. in a matter of moments she’s submerged up to her chest, and your view of her lower body is distorted as she heads towards the pillar. you clap your hands delightedly, scanning the beach and then racing towards a nearby boat a couple feet from the shore. you scramble onto it, heaving your frame up and over the side to sit with your legs dangling into the lake.

  “go, lynette!” you shout, cupping your hand by your lips to project your voice towards her. she leans her head to the side and looks at you, bright purple eyes glinting as brightly as the inside of an iridescent clamshell. the side of her mouth ticks up in a half-smile. she has your sunglasses clasped in one gloved hand and tucks them into another unseen pocket as she propels herself to the pillar.

  the marble is wet and slippery and from where you’re sitting, you can’t see any cracks or bumps in the smoothly polished stone that could possibly allow her to have such a steady grip, but she climbs easily, scrambling up the side to prop her legs on the top. lynette stares out over the lake, over the city; she feels miles away, coils of hair fluttering around her face. she looks picturesque. she looks like a painting.

  in a heartbeat, she’s on her feet and raising her arms over her head. you’ve seen synchronized swimmers before, with their elegant movements and expensive costumes, and her silhouette against the sun isn’t so far from theirs; with her frilled leotard, gaze sharp as needles and hands reaching towards the sky, she could be one. just another one of her many talents.

  she leaps from the pillar, fingers stretched out before her, and you want to applaud. applaud before she’s even done anything. then again, being with her always feels like a performance. like a dance. here you are, barely a few meters away, and – her eyes are closed. she doesn’t see you as she plummets from the sky to the sea. it feels like there’s something between you, like if you held out your hand you would meet something solid. a wall. or a curtain. 

  there’s barely a splash as she plunges through the surface, tumbling into the water. she disappears in a mass of glittering white bubbles. you lose sight of her, and then she reappears, and you want to jump too, duck underwater to see her fully. to take in every bit of her. 

  her tail flicks behind her, hands pushing through the depths as she goes deeper, less like she’s sinking and more like she’s falling through a clear blue sky. her hair flutters like a bird soaring in the air. she looks so gorgeous, so graceful. someday she will flap her wings and fly away from you. you know that as well as you know anything. when the inevitable deadly winter comes – she will be gone.

  but not yet. you can still keep your eyes on her, floating in the water. you can cup this moment and keep it close to your heart until it’s all you have left.

  lynette surfaces, pushing wet hair out of her eyes, the platinum color darkened to silver. she looks exhilarated, cheeks filled with color, breaths coming fast for a moment before they slow down, returning to her usual impassivity. she looks at you, barely kicking to stay afloat. “... what’s with that look?” she asks, one eyebrow arching. 

  you blink, lean forward to see your reflection. it’s slightly distorted by the soft ripples, but you’re smiling, eyes sparkling. eyes wet. 

  “did something happen?” she asks. her tone is slightly laced with concern. it makes your throat tighten. “you look… emotional.” 

  you lift your head, brushing one hand over your face, avoiding her gaze. “just looking at something pretty,” you say, eyes on the horizon. “that’s all.” 

  arlecchino’s face is cold and stony as always, like her features have been carved out of porcelain, but you think maybe you can trick yourself into seeing a hint of affection in her dark eyes. at the very least, she hasn’t drowned you yet, though her hands have twitched a few times towards your throat when you splashed her “by accident”.

  “it’s so cold,” you complain, dragging your feet through waving strands of seaweed. “it feels like winter.”

  “i don’t feel anything,” arlecchino says, hands laced behind her back. her voice is even, unbothered by the temperature. her suit’s train trails through the surface of the water, silken cloth fading in and out of ice-white, bloodred and gleaming silver. she’s tired today, unable to muster any more words than what’s strictly necessary.

  you tilt your head, smiling wryly as you step towards her. “probably because you’re the reason it’s cold.” it’s true, though she only blinks slowly at the remark; the water cools several degrees around her waist. you’ve made remarks before that she resembles a statue when she stands still, and now is no different – rising out of the lake with the sun setting behind her, hair gleaming like snow. 

  “why are we here again?” she questions. her heels are caught in the murky sand. “we both know that i’m not a swimmer.” 

  “just wait for a bit, until night.” your arms are wrapped around yourself, but you still manage an excited smile, an i-know-something-you-don’t smile. you’re the only person who ever looks at her like that; she’d bite the head off anyone else who dared, but… she just inclines her head. “fine. after that, i’m going home.”

  “okay, okay.” 

  the time passes leisurely. you float on your back, showing arlecchino rocks and shells that you’ve plucked from the sand. she doesn’t respond beyond a nod to most of them, but your pockets grow heavy with the ones that receive an appreciative blink. you snatch up a hermit crab and place it in her hand; when it pinches her palm, she threatens to crush and eat it, prompting a cry of outrage from you.

  the sun slowly drifts below the horizon; golden bleeding to red, then to dark orange, then a sedated gradient of blue. wind whistles through the trees surrounding the lake, and the cries of birds grow quieter and quieter. this secluded pocket of fontaine – far away from the city, the aquabus and anyone who could interrupt you – is somewhere arlecchino has never been. somewhere you’ve been begging to show her for a while now. so far she’s seen nothing remarkable about it, and if it was anyone else, she’d go home, but…

  but.

  the sun is completely gone by now, and the sky is velvet black and speckled with stars. you’re shivering, the shoulders of your gauzy shirt soaked through as you bemoan your decision to wear such thin layers. her face is cold, her eyelids are drifting shut; exhausted from days and days of nonstop work. a thousand duties for the tenth harbinger. 

  and yet you want so badly to show her, whatever it is that you’ve been waiting all day for. so she can stay at least a moment longer.

  the sky dims a bit more, and you push yourself up and onto the riverbank. arlecchino follows a moment after, and as the water laps at her boots, it feels like a shadow passing over her. she tilts her head up and sees that a cloud has drifted past the moon, dimming its silver glow; the air is cold and crisp like a peppermint. you’re sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest. 

  she sits beside you feeling like a child awaiting instruction, legs stretched out in front of her, and looks up at the sky. there’s a few heartbeats where the sound of your breathing fills her ears, shivering and frosty puffs escaping your lips, and then you make a delighted noise. “look, look,” you say, pointing at the water. “it’s glowing.”

  arlecchino glances at you, blinking slowly as if you’re playing a trick on her. but your eyes are riveted to the scene below. she tilts her head, looking down at it, and sees the bright blue sparkles, glimmering in the water like a thousand stars, fallen down from the night sky to rest in the sea. her breath catches in her throat. the river glitters as though it’s filled with gems.

  “isn’t it amazing?” your fingers twitch, like you’re going to try and reach out, touch it. she inches her hand forward inconspicuously, ready to catch you if you lean just a bit too far. you’re not looking at her, transfixed. “it’s beautiful. it looks like a dream.” 

  she peers at it. the azure gleam reflects in her black eyes, the red x-shape of her pupils standing out like fire in a field of flowers. she reaches out, stretches as far as she can, brushes her long, sharp nails through the surface of the water; blue light blooms wherever she touches it. her lips curve up slightly, then press into a flat line again.

  “it’s… ” she stops and blinks fast. “it’s just algae. it’s science. plants. it’s not… a miracle, or anything. there’s no need to fawn over it like that.” 

  you pull your knees up to your chest, touch the top of her hand. her skin is cold, dry and without pores, no marks in her skin anywhere. smooth and empty. you trace the silver lines threading over her fingertips like veins. “even if it’s not magic, it can still be a miracle. you know that, right?”

  she lets you run your hand over her fingers for a moment longer, then pulls it away. “... maybe. but it’s nothing exceptional. it’s a plankton. we could come back here tomorrow night and see it again. it’ll never go anywhere.”

  “that doesn’t change anything,” you say. arlecchino can feel your gaze on her. she looks down into the water, sees the fish swimming through the luminescence, tries to ignore your eyes burning like flames into the side of her head. it’s too pleasant of a feeling to her, who doesn’t understand pain. “just because it’s always there doesn’t mean it’s any less beautiful. maybe that makes it more special.”

  “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she hums. “you’d probably appreciate it even more if it disappeared for a while.”

  “i don’t think so.” you lean into her, slowly, tentatively. she doesn’t push you away, tucking her hands into her pockets. you shift your attention back down to the sea, as if you’re speaking to it when you say, the radiance of the water illuminated in your irises, “i’d rather have you here with me.”

© lumiconic ; please reblog and follow if enjoyed

[harmonysanreads]

*kneels down*

HAAH WHA??? HELLO? SOMEONE PLEASE PINCH ME AM I DREAMING????????

for context

Okay okay... I'm done screaming irl, this is?? I'm lost for words how beautiful it is???? I just woke up so I'm having a hard time processing reality (I legitimately screamed and now my mom is looking at me with a lot of concern) I wish I could be more eloquent but I'm just floored from how moved I am. Wdym "kneels down" I'd have you sit on a throne if I could :< RIP that friend who doesn't even have a name, you died a tragic death but at least it gave us exquisite content ✨

[kattkeyy]

kisses

[sea-lanterns]

Thinking about Arlecchino in the lifeguard au, but she’s actually the lifeguard for the kiddie pool area 😅

She takes her job very seriously, even though she’s surrounded by floatie toys and moms who can’t hide their attraction to the hot lifeguard…

[draco-glacialis]

Furina: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

La Signora: Put spaghetti in it.

Furina: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you.

Columbina: Put spaghetti in it.

Furina: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two.

Arlecchino: Put spaghetti in it.

Furina: I am no longer taking suggestions.

[boycaca]

I think its somewhat telling that the gnosis was placed inside the shouki no kami rather than scara containing it in his chest the same way that venti did with his gnosis. I get that its probably more so because scara needed a much grander body for his god form and the electro gnosis just so happened to be at the centre of it… but i cant help but think of it as the games way of telling us that he truly is not fit to contain the gnosis, even in peak form when all his powers are unleashed, he still needs to build a whole new body as the gnosis’ vessel, that the so called “heart” he thought was rightfully his would not actually make him satisfied or fulfilled, as it seems to be the embodiment of all of scara’s obsessions