#arle x you

[knavesflames]

Hello, I hope your day goes well as you're reading this!

If your request is still open, can I request touch deprived! Arlecchino and Touch deprived! Reader? Like reader is very clingy and affectionate to her closest friends because she's been deprived of physical affection since she was younger, and Arlecchino who's also touch deprived but unlike reader who has no problem with physical affection, she finds it hard to do it, but when she meets reader who's hugs are so comfortable she's grown addicted to it and craves her gentle touches more and more, thank you! Have a great day or night!

(I realise I’m apologising on every post for the late ones, but I’m almost caught up to a reasonable delay) hi anon!! I feel this hard, I am so affectionate because I was touch starved as a child. Though, I focused this writing piece more on Arlecchino. I love exploring her and her being in character and slightly OOC too. (She’s my comfort character, can you guys tell?) thank you for the ask!

Word count: 1k

Content: fluff, Arlecchino is touched starved, she loves you

Nsft utc!

Arlecchino and you have come from completely different backgrounds (that are unfortunately all too similar as well). You worked well together even so, your routines matching each other, the same sense of humour. By that, I mean, you joked, her lips barely turned up, and she hummed in response (which is equivalent to your wheezing on the sofa over.. a silly cat?). The point is, you worked. You both made sense together. Except one, tiny little detail.

You loved physical touch, and she despised it. Once you discovered how it felt, you were obsessed. You loved the way your body was enveloped by arms that seemed like they’d block out the whole world for you.

Arlecchino hated physical touch. She isn’t used to it, she grew up with her horrifying excuse for a Mother, and physical affection was used often as manipulation rather than anything else, she saw that much with what happened to her dear, dear friend (who haunts her dreams).

The first time Arlecchino held you was a year into your relationship. She awoke during the night to an empty bed, and when she made her way towards the living room, she saw you, in tears on the sofa. A bad dream, you had said, and nothing more. Arlecchino saw the way your body was almost aching for some sort of touch, and despite the discomfort, her arms wrapped around you. Awkward, clumsy, and a little bit forced, but she hugged you. She had not hugged someone since she was sixteen. Without a word, her thumb stroked against your arm, and she felt the way your body slumped against her body. She felt like a burning fire, you realised, most likely due to the flames running through her veins, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

She began to notice that holding you in her embrace was not as torturous as she assumed. Arlecchino held you until you fell asleep.

Her embraces were few and far between, reserved only for special moments or moments where she can see you need them. Her facial expression never changes, but over time, she becomes slightly more comfortable with every hug. She ended up craving your embraces, the way your hand gingerly caresses her cheek and your lips on her skin, the gentle squeeze on her arm when you go past her. She wanted so desperately to associate touch with you instead, someone she knows could never hurt a spider.

Eventually, she begins allowing it more and more, and even begins silently hinting when she wants one by sighing slightly louder, or grumbling a bit when things go wrong, only to feel a fuzzy warmth inside when you smile at her and give a gentle touch. Both you and Arlecchino wonder if she will one day make the first move.

Arlecchino does not know why she dislikes physical affection so much. She enjoys buying gifts she knows you will cherish and love instead, doing things at a distance. This was never supposed to be anything more than a fling, she didn’t want investment, she didn’t want any affection to be returned, but she fell for you, and hard. She dislikes how vulnerable she has become around you, but a part of her deep down inside of her likes it too. Arlecchino is scared you will leave, that you will ruin her one day, and she feels like it won’t happen if she doesn’t let on how hard she has fallen. (Everyone knows and says nothing.)

Perhaps she prefers affection the way she does, unrequited and with little investment, is because some part of her craves a love so great that it would tear her apart, and that frightens her. She does not know how to receive love, yet she still wants a love that will consume her entire being and burn hotter than the flames that course through her veins with every beat of her slowly-thawing heart. You are thawing her, she knows that much.

The weather chills the way her touch grows warmer, and winter comes quickly. The winter in Snezhnaya was cold and biting, and despite her accommodating her home for you (she clearly does not need it) by lighting the fireplace and leaving you blankets, the cold still finds its way into your bones, leaving you shivering. One night, when it is the coldest night of the year, you find yourself unable to sleep at all. You lay awake in the dark, thinking about your past the way you always do at night, shivering so hard you’re practically vibrating.

At some point, you hear her stirring, and you try to quiet yourself, to make sure she can continue sleeping. She noticed the second she opened her eyes, though. Doesn’t she always? She is glad you are pretending to sleep so you do not see the hesitation in her eyes before she snaps herself out of it and does what you both want her to. Wordlessly, she shuffles a few inches closer and her arm wraps around your midsection, dragging you closer until her body is wrapped around yours. Arlecchino, being the attentive person she is, notices your smile and sigh of relief and the way your shivering stops. She notices the way you nestle further in once you know she’s okay with it, and she notices when your breath falls into a deep rhythm.

It is her turn to stare at the wall, her heart beating faster than usual, the only giveaway of any of her feelings. Slowly, her arms snake around you until she’s holding you so tight you can’t move even if you wanted to. Her breath is visible when she exhales, when she lets her body finally relax in the company of another. Arlecchino buries her face into your hair, smelling your shampoo. The smell makes her drowsy, she tells herself (it is not the smell, it is that after so many years, her walls have crumbled completely), and she finds her eyes drooping until she, too, falls into the throes of sleep.

Arlecchino sleeps the best she ever has. Arlecchino has her first night of no nightmares since she became the poor, mad, cursed knave. Arlecchino does not feel so cursed when you are beside her.

[cheri-2047]

Arlecchino when you’re sick

I want to write for arlecchino so have her pampering u when ure sick.

Y’all I’m like questioning if I wrote this like too nice for her or too mean 😭 my bad. Anyways enjoy

WOWWW I FINALLY LEARNED JOW TO COLOR TEXT AND STUFF. YIPEE

Tags: none

Okay so I write her in 2 ways, one is for relationship like she’s ur gf and the other is like if ure her kid from the hearth just pick one

RELATIONSHIP:

-Arlecchino is always a busy woman, either doing fatui work or taking care of the hearth

The moment she hears you’ve gotten sick (either from you telling her or someone telling someone and so on) she pauses her work and leaves whatever things that are needed to do to lyney (she says it’s “practice for when he becomes king”)

She comes to you to see you in bed, curled up to give you meds and stays in your shared home. She lays next to you and wraps one arm around you.

“…didnt I say to rest?”

She would ask, with a slight scolding tone. Before you could reply, she shushes you “sh..don’t speak, go rest”

She pays her head as she wraps her arm around your shoulder, while doing fatui paperwork with you next to her.

“Sleep”

She basically forces you to sleep and rest. If you don’t, she will pull you closer to her, while humming a tune she would sing to the children of the hearth.

As you slowly fall asleep, she lays the blanket over you and if you’re cold, she will use her pyro vision stuff to warm you up.

The next time you wake up she will NOT be there, instead she leaves a tray of your favorite food next to you and meds with a note of her apologizing and she leaves for fatui stuff.

ARLECCHINO AS YOUR FATHER:

As she hears you’re sick, she would tell the other kids to care for you while she’s not there. She would cancel your missions and let you rest (even 1 week after you’re better to ensure u can do ur best)

Arlecchino asks her kids how you’re doing while she is doing paperwork in her office.

Though at night, while everyone at the hearth is asleep, she visits your room. She sees you asleep and sits on the stool next to you.

“Wake up….”

She says softly, while holding out a thermometer and meds.

“Time for your meds”

She helps you sit up and helps you drink your meds, slowly tucking you back in.

If you tell her something hurts, she would nod and leave the room. Coming back to give you whatever will relieve the pain.

The rest of the night she stays by your side, patting your head.

The next morning, she’s gone without a trace. But she leaves plushies beside you (for comfort) and a note saying

“Rest. Fatui orders.”

[beiibeiii]

bathing together

fluff!arlecchino x reader sfw

i was in the bath and suddenly i started hallucinating arlecchino with me so heres this

due to arlecchino being busy as a harbinger, times like this are rare. you both make sure to make the most out of it. the calming music coming from the phonograph was playing in the background. there were rose petals, bath salts and dimly lit candles. it was all so romantic.

arlecchino was relaxing in the bath with you. you were sat in between her legs, her arms are wrapped around your waist so tenderly in the warm bubbly water. your back is against her. arlecchino's long hair is untied, loosly falling down against her back. her head nuzzled into your shoulder.

"i love you." you mumbled as you smile softly. your hands lightly hold onto her wrists as she holds you.

you can feel her lips curl up against your skin into a soft smile as she takes in the sweet scent of you. her arms give your body a light squeeze.

"i love you more.." she mumbled against your neck, giving you a soft and tender kiss.

her mouth and hold is warm.

shes so gentle and caring with you. she pulls away and pours some body wash into her hands. you hear the warm, steamy water splash around as she moves. soon blackened arms make their way to your back.

"your so pretty, my dear." she utters softly.

you could feel her breath on your shoulder. you laugh softly, her praise never fails to get old. she always enjoyed seeing you happy. you loved it when she was so sweet like this.

as she scrubs your back, she makes sure the be extra careful to not scratch you with her nails. her touch is so relaxing. you feel all tension leave your body when your with her. the dimly lit candles serving as lighting make her look so pretty. she rubs at all the right places, making you feel so good. her touch was so pure and loving.

"lower please, arle.." you sigh out in relief.

she obeys like the good husband she is. her hands lower down your back. her nails gently gliding down your back.

"here my dear?" she asks you.

her hands are exactly where you wanted them to be. you let out a soft, content breath.

"just right there my love.." you answered.

her mouth curls up ever so slightly again. shes happy shes able to be herself around you. eventually she washes the body wash off your back. the water drips down from your back. you turn your head to the side to face her with a light smile. she immediately leans in to peck you on the lips. leaving you with a blush on your cheeks.

"don't be embarrassed my dear, let me take care of you." her voice was gentle.

you feel her hands dip into your hair. her gentle fingers massaging your scalp with hair wash.

only you had her like a lovesick fool. she loves you so much, even if she doesn't show it sometimes. <3

[aixeko]

-`♡´-≐ “ IF THE WORLD WAS ENDING, I'D WANNA BE NEXT TO YOU ” ≐-`♡´-

| Starring | Soft!Arlecchino x Harbinger!Reader

| Setting | Genshin universe

| Scenario | [ DRABBLE ] FLUFF! Soft with a hint of angst. Pronouns are not used. A bit fast paced. Not proofread. 

► RADIO CHANNEL [Author note]

× This is so mid and I refuse to reread. I’m so sorry if the quality of the fic is not up to par with the others. × Fluff is so boring I'm sorry, It's not my cup of tea.

[ Word count: 2034 ] | Art credit: Blufyrein on Twitter & Instagram

August 20 XXXX…

“The house of the hearth has been blazing with activity ever since the children heeded the upcoming anniversary of my birth. Even with my reluctance, they insisted on celebrating this occasion, one in which I won't prevent seeing the amount of effort and enthusiasm they are collectively putting into this yearly ceremony.

It has been some time now since you last celebrated with us; in fact, it was four years ago exactly on this day, August 20th. Four years in which you had left for your mission issued by the Taritasa to Natlan, and four years since we last heard of your welfare. The children, in spite of the low possibility of attendance, still persist in accounting for your awaited arrivals, and I too bide my time for the day you return home to us.

If it isn't an inconvenience for you, please do not let their hard work wither into nothingness; perhaps even a response letter would be utmost appreciated by the children.

The hearth is set ablaze, anticipating your safe homecoming; the children miss you." 

Two days have passed since Arlecchino sent her most recent letter to you, and the day of her birthday has arrived with the expected ghosting from your side. Her hands focused on providing perfection to the barbecue, moving on their own like a second conscious being, while her gaze stared blankly at the grill, her mind stuck in deep thoughts.

Arlecchino is not one to sugarcoat or disprove the factuality of a situation, but with the lack of responses, or rather no response, over the past four years, the overwhelming, woeful truth has become more prominent than ever.

Her grip on the tongs tightened; with the amount of pressure she was applying, it could bend the steel into a useless apparatus. Furrowed eyebrows follow along with a frustrated sigh and a shake of her head. No, impossible. How can a Harbinger who is soon to be awarded the ranking just below her fall victim to the accursed consequence of life, such as death? It's impossible; the odds are practically none unless you have run into trouble with the almighty archon of Natan; then that is the only possible outcome that can lead to your ultimate demise. Even the mere thought of that possibility is unbelievable; the person whom Arlecchino has married is not one known to be the hostile type despite ranking as a highly potent Harbinger. To hell and back, your personality is enough to make even the devil himself view you as a passive mortal being; you are not married to a woman such as Arlecchino herself for no good reason.

"FATHER!" A young adult male screamed out in horrorstruck desperation.

The sound of her being called awoke Arlecchino from her trance; her head snapped to the young man, whose skin, once flawless, was now bruised, with short ash-blond hair and wearing magician-like clothing that was now dirtied with his own blood. The apron wrapping around her, along with the tongs in hand, was thrown onto the ground as she rushed to her bloody child. The other children near the area hurried to their brother, their expressions sharing concern and anger at the sight.

Arlecchino catches him once his body gives up; desperate, inaudible cries escape his mouth, with the only few words being coherent: Lynette—everyone—hurts!

Those words are enough for her X-shaped eyes to light up to a color akin to flame. Arlecchino's face visibly darkened at the announcement; from its tone, the situation was a lot direr than she could have expected. She gently but hastily lowered Lyney to the ground, her voice booming with command to the children to aid him while she raced to where he had come from. The children who specialized in combat rather than the medical aspects hurtled with Arlecchino despite not being in their Fatui attire; their bodies, enraged, moved on adrenaline alone.

Another one of the children who is limping sees the reinforcements approaching and points in the direction of the ongoing battlefield onslaught. Distant screams are heard, and Arlecchino has no time to properly bring her children to safety; thus, some of the others take charge in retreating the injured to let her focus on eliminating the source of the massacre.

Once she arrives at the cluster of her heavily wounded children and spots the suspect, who's draped in a dark cloak covering their whole body, Arlecchino takes no time transforming into her stronger form.

Arlecchino's scythe bolts at the infiltrator in synchronization with her body, whose speed could be described as quick as lightning. Arlecchino is left with constricted pupils as the mysterious figure dodges the attack with absolute ease, like they have just vanished into thin air.

"It seems like the great supreme Knave has gotten weaker."

The unrecognized tone of a whisper against her ears has her swinging her scythe at a 360-degree angle; this action causes the person to leap backward with a laugh. Arlecchino stands poised, her eyes scanning the figure to make out some sort of recognizable appearance. By the sound of their voice, Arlecchino feels a sense of familiarity coursing throughout all 206 of her bones, yet she can't place her finger on why the stranger is able to invoke such a feeling.

"You made a grave mistake daring to step forth against the House of the Hearth."

One of Arlecchino's hand ignites in a surge of power, and with that, she leaves no time for a response as her scythe hurls at the figure, with a burst of multiple flaming sword-like shapes surrounding the weapon.

Arlecchino's hand snaps out, catching the leg hurtling at her head. Her voice cuts through the air, sharp and full of mockery: "Too slow."

"Not bad!" laughed the person as they disappeared once more, causing a tsk of irritation to be emitted from Arlecchino.

Arlecchino figured that enough was enough and unleashed various attacks all at once, and not a single one landed; it was like this stranger had already calculated and understood every single little detail about her fighting style. The fact that they didn't actually attack but rather used dodge gave Arlecchino a bit of insight; they were playing a game of speed while she was playing a game of strength.

The gleam in Arlecchino's eyes intensified, sparking with otherworldly vigor. Her hand rose, mirroring the spark within as she muttered, "So be it." Her voice breathed life into a realm unseen by mortal eyes, with only an unlucky few witnessing its crimson moon.

The unidentified figure struggles in their stance, proving to be immobile. Play as you like, but to challenge a Harbinger of her standing is nothing to be confident about; daring to try to manipulate the outcome to your desire against another manipulator is pathetically laughable.

Or so Arlecchino thought, because what she didn't expect was for the stranger to be able to move of their own free will, but also to strike her domain as useless and nonexistent with a familiar style.

Her eyes narrowed once back to the real world, for there had only been one person who was informed about how to elude her realm, and based on the dependence on speed rather than strength, it was already a giveaway. Moments later, her suspicion proves true, yet not as anticipated as she presumes as she sees the stranger dashing towards her—well, not a stranger but the one who swiped her caged heart away into a loving shelter, you. You sprint towards her, shedding your cloak through the stride. In a heartbeat, you jump onto her, embracing her tightly with your warmth for an unexpected reunion, but one with no complaints.

"Peruere!"

Arlecchino freezes momentarily at the sudden action, but once recognition dawns, she returns your grip with an equal amount of fierce.

"You're home."

"I'm home!" You grin and draw back to study the face you longed for and missed for the past four years.

Her eyes, no more did they fume with fury; rather, in replacement of it, there radiated a tenderness shown to a small selected lucky few. A rare softness graces her features, an expression reserved only for children and, more intensely, for you.

"Happy birthday—"

You're interrupted by a peck on the lip; honestly, if it weren't for how unexpected it is for the likes of Arlecchino, it would have completely flown past you as some sort of dust.

"I figure the odds of you arriving today would be little to none, but nonetheless, welcome back home, my dear," she paused. "Although that little stunt of yours is not one easily forgiven or overlooked."

Arlecchino glances at the gathering that has formed all around her, more specifically at the young man who is hiding behind his twin sister with a nervous smile.

"Still as stone-hard as ever, I see, but I do admit my twisted plan for a reunion could have been alternated for a sweeter one," you give her an apologetic smile. "My sincerest apologies, Peruere."

"Why didn't you respond to any of my letters?" Arlecchino asked, turning back to look at you and settling you down to your feet to your dismay.

"I did!" you perked. "It just seems like Natlan is a horrible fit for communicating with letters since, somehow, it keeps getting lost and burned to ashes in the lava."

"Your face betrays you, darling." Arlecchino's fingers danced through your hair. "Your face says it all; it's a given that you know there is no hiding anything from me. Don't lie to me; you didn't know I had sent you letters."

"Haha... Look, in my defense, my mission was a mess, and doing anything is a whole other disorder; I'm thankful that the Captain is taking over because that region is a headache to deal with."

Arlecchino places a hand on your waist, pulling you close as her lips make contact with your head. "Setting everything aside, let us use our time together again to celebrate instead of bickering."

The children cheered at the public display of affection between their parents, and the one who was "tending the wounded" was, in fact, actually bringing the barbecue from the House of the Hearth to the large field.

"The children miss you," Arlecchino whispers into your ear, her head pressed against yours.

You wanted to laugh at the children's excuse; she really had not changed much in the past four years, still playing off a cold demeanor to hide the soft shell hidden beneath it, one you had already melted through.

Your eyelids lift, catching her smile, which reveals her pearly white teeth. Your gaze softens. In reality, many things have changed since you first met her, yet she refuses to give herself credit for it. She was once only known as Arlecchino or by her Harbinger title, The Knave, but over the past years, the facade has lowered greatly to divulge the true identity of Father, The Knave, Arlecchino to just Peruere.

"I miss the children too."

For the rest of the day, that smile didn't leave; no, it was displayed for the whole world to see and ravish in. Nor did she leave your side once, insisting on even public displays of affection in spite of being surrounded by the children, and in her own words, "It's to make up for all the time that has been lost."

If only she knew that in the far future, when all of her hair turns white, with yours matching hers, she would realize it was the worst lie she had ever spoken.

If only she knew that in the future she had accidentally made an unspoken oath with herself to spend the rest of her time loving you to make up for the other half of her time that was spent hiding how much she loved you.

The smile, unbeknownst to both of you, would be a permanent fixture. It would endure through your remaining years, brightening each day until your final moments together, when life's inevitable decline finally claims you both.

Even when the world was ending, at least you both would be next to each other, dying with a smile stretching across your features.

[harbingersglory]

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints

"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."

The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.

"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."

The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.

"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"

Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.

"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.

She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.

"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.

How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.

She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.

She certainly wants to, and she intends to.

The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.

"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."

Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.

She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.

Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.

She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.

For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.

She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.

[m1d-45]

spoken across stars IV

summary: voicelines characters would have in sagau! ft. lyney, lynette, freminet, and two bonuses :)

word count: ~710

-> warnings: major spoilers for fontaine archon quest

-> gn reader (you/yours, one ‘their’) and unspecified traveller (they/them)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< zhongli, ayato, heizou || < masterlist >

lyney

about us: the traveller

What do I think of the traveller? Well, they’re observant, quick on their feet, and remarkably determined once set in their ways. They’re the only reason Fontaine is still standing, and the only reason I’m not stuck in the Fortress of Meropide. I owe them quite a bit, now that I think about it…

about us: the creator

friendship lv. 4

Imagine a travelling opera troupe visited town, and you decide to attend. You listen to the musical scores, watch the actors dance across the stage, years of practice and rehearsals condensed into a single scene, an unknowable amount of complexity lost from your place in the audience. You want to watch it over and over, to ask the director about his creative process and about the symbolism of the chorus, but everything packs up before you know it. You think about it forever, mourning the fragility of your own memory, wanting more than anything to watch it just one more time.

about you: worship

friendship lv. 6

Thank you for keeping my family safe. Thank you for your compassion, for believing in Lynette and Freminet and Father and… for trusting me. I lied to you and the traveller when we met and yet you still chose to help, and that means more than I can ever express. You’re kind and caring and… ah, I’m no good with words. Just… thank you. For everything.

lynette

about us: the traveller

I like them. Quick, to the point, and able to back up their words with their swordsmanship. They’re surprisingly willing to work with the Fatui; though, that shouldn’t be too unexpected considering how much Tartaglia likes to talk about them.

about us: the creator

friendship lv. 4

What does a flower think of the sun? Or the tide of the moon?

about you: worship

friendship lv. 6

Gifts and acts of service are how thanks are normally given, but considering your status… I’m no good at speeches without a script, so I’ll get to the point. Thank you for everything. I’m here if you need me. Don’t be shy about asking for help, either; no amount of errands I could run could make up for saving Teyvat thrice over. If it’s for you, I don’t mind.

freminet

about us: the traveller

The.. traveller…? Ah, I- I never got the chance to speak with them that often. Usually Lyney or Lynette interact with them… But, I am grateful they’re here. Who knows where Fontaine would be without them…

about us: the creator

friendship lv. 4

What about them? W-wait, that sounded bad—what I meant to say was: why were you asking about them? My opinion? That’s… a strange question to ask. It’s like asking what I think of the sea, or what Lynette thinks of oysters, or Lyney his shows or Father the House. I.. I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand the question…

about you: worship

friendship lv. 6

I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for you. You changed my life, how I view myself and my family, and gave me the strength to protect what I care about. I am forever in your debt. Should you ever need anything, give me the order and it will be done.

bonus!!

arlecchino

about the creator: recitals

I think it’s amusing how much effort people put into planning a thing as simple as prayer. Every day, the children carefully discuss what candles would smell the best when lit, pestering Lyney for his opinion… even Freminet, blessed as he is, practices his words at least twice before addressing them formally. Then again, he never has been confident with his words…

navia

about the creator: tea time

I rather enjoy tea parties. Brewing the tea, baking the pastries, sitting together with a few friends, it’s all so peaceful. Of course, now that Silver and Melus are gone, I find myself drinking tea all on my own. No, there’s no need to worry—sitting above a thriving Spina, knowing everything we’ve been through and the strength we’ve been given, I never feel lonely.

[liliewrites]

Hello, I wanted to ask your opinion about Arlecchino's relationship with the MILF reader!female?

TO WHOEVER YOU ARE ANON, SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO ANSWER UR QUESTION AAAAA LOL

BUT, regarding arlecchino's relationship with milf reader, i'd like to think that arlecchino's utterly enamored with you. she may not show it often and well, but she is. for years, she's been taking care of children. she loves them, yes. she loves to see you take care of them too. the concept of loving a child, raising a child and all the troubles along with it are all too familiar to her, but she loves you and the kids nonetheless.

but the moment she sees you holding her very own child in your arms?

she'll never let a day pass without telling you how much she appreciates you. to see you go through the hardships of carrying her kids, to see you risk your life for them, and to see you holding them with such affection in your eyes? yeah. her life is yours. everything. she'll look at you with a gaze saying "shit, that's the mother of my kids" every single day. also you've just become 10x more hotter in her eyes lol expect her to shower you with a variety of praises everyday, sometimes even "why don't we put another bun in the oven" type of flirtatious remarks bwahahahha.

[clouvu]

Touchy

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt.1

Encounter (Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Guys. I am so sorry. I don't think that Arlecchino oneshot is being posted tomorrow. 😿Trust that it will be posted this weekend. Take this as an apology (I am fr spoiling y'all Arle fans) for the pushback. This is a repost to something I submitted as an anon to @/megistusdiary so there's a chance you've already seen this. It was written a while ago so quality is not up to par. This is the Black Butler inspired demon au! that I talked about in my poll, check it out if you want a little bit more on this concept. (Thank you guys for voting in it! :33 I'm looking forward to writing the oneshots). Series Masterlist Content Warning: Semi-graphic descriptions of violence

Everything hurts. It burns, burns, burns, and you can't feel your limbs and your vision fades in and out. Your broken form twitches on the ground, and as your assailants approach you, ready to wrench the remaining life out of you slowly and painfully, with your final burst of energy and concentration, you let out a guttural screech, a summoning spell spewing from your raspy throat and bloodied teeth. 

At first, you think nothing happens. They stalk you, unfaltering despite what you have just called for. Wearing teeth-baring grins and depraved intentions, they near your crumpled body, with their dirty, despicable hands reaching out towards you. Your half-lidded eyes shut fully, and you heave out a sigh of resignation, giving up the futile struggle of staying alive. 

You hear it first before you actually see it. A sound distinct only to stilettos clicking against the ground. It jerks your attention immediately, and you twist your head slowly to face the oncoming figure. Black heels with gold adornment catch your eye, and then--

"Well, well, looks like I found the doll that called me," you hear a deep, feminine voice sibilates, voice reverberating throughout the chamber. Your gaze slowly trails up the newcomer's figure, and the white clothing, snow-white hair, and feminine features cause you to mistake her as an angel. Red-crossed pupils meet with yours. A shiver works its way up your spine but you stare in awe regardless. What kind of human was this?

One of your tormenters inquires rather rudely about the woman and storms towards her haughtily, ignorant of the fact he has just sealed his fate. There's an audible, irate click of her tongue, then a snap echoes the room. For a brief moment, your sight is filled with just red, and then your eyes widen as the aggressor bursts into a beautiful explosion of blood and guts. She walks past where once the man stood without pause, now just a puddle of blood, tutting at the blatant disrespect of the formerly alive human. Her feet stop just before you and her shadow looms over.

"A-arle...cchino?" You croak weakly as your hazy gaze sets on her. She looks so handsome, beautiful like a guardian angel, even when she's covered in red. Her lips curl up slightly and she crouches down to hook an arm behind your back and knees, lifting you bridal-style. Heat radiates from her cold-blooded being and it is so much more comforting than the icy hardness of the floor. You immediately bury your face into her shoulder while your needy hands grip onto her coat out of desperation and fear. Beneath the intense iron smell of blood, she smells of something floral, you noted with dulled surprise. 

"That is me, the Knave. And what have you called me for?" She purrs from above, repositioning you in her arms so she could support you with one arm instead of both. 

You give one single glance behind your shoulder towards the now cowering group of people, their behavior reminding you of feeble sheep rather than the bloodthirsty pack of wolves. You think that you'd like lamb chops after all of this. 

Turning your head back, you suck in a steady breath, your voice unwavering and clear despite being muffled into her clothes. "Kill them." 

"As you wish." 

Even as she draws out the sweetest, most revolting of screams from the remaining alive people, you find peace in your arms. You don't watch, instead, opting to rest your head against her and try to fall asleep to your former captors' begs of mercy. A hand combing through your hair wakes you up. You admire her sharpened red nails and her black hands, so contrasting against her unblemished and perfect skin but pretty all the same. It looks nice, sifting through your hair, it feels right, it feels perfect, even if they're dipped in blood.

"Well, I suppose we can work out the contract at a later time. For now, rest, my dear," her voice is soft and it lulls you to sleep in her arms. She tucks your head underneath her chin and walks away from the bloodbath, her darling wrapped tightly close to her.

[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 ✨

[knavesflames]

Hello there! I was wondering if you’d write something about Arle with a fem reader who’s ovulating and is a lot friskier than normal. I’m currently ovulating and I can’t stop thinking about it. Also if you except anon name I’d like to be the 🦇 anon!

Hi!! I’m so sorry this is so late. I actually got to this around a week ago, but I realised it was only a week until it had been like a month since you requested, and I thought, well, if it’s anything like mine, then the same thing happens now too. Sorry if that’s weird idk I just feel bad for leaving it so long 😭😭 anyway, enjoy, and welcome 🦇 anon! I’m happy to have you, feel free to drop into my box more often!!

Word count: 1.2k

Contents: fem reader, ovulating reader, multiple orgasms, arlecchino is good with aftercare too

Mdni, nsft utc!

Consider Arlecchino who knows you so well, she knows your cycle. She knows when you’re ovulating, when you’re needy for her. Consider that she loves to tease you, too, pretending she doesn’t notice your glances towards her fingers, or the drawer where she keeps her absurd amount of toys, just for you. Pretends she’s unaware of the way you squirm in your seat. You already know she loves saying things with a double meaning, too, making you think of things that you shouldn’t be thinking about, not in public, at least. She can’t stop the slight smirk on her face either when she makes that motion with her ring and middle fingers, giving you flashbacks of her fingers curling inside of you.

Think about the way she won’t even touch you until you’re begging. Begging her so much you practically have tears in your eyes from how needy you are. Only then will she fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked— until you see stars. And she won’t stop until you’re begging once more, though, this time, you’ll be begging to stop. You know she will, too, once she hears you beg nicely enough or say the word you both know will stop everything immediately. She likes pushing you, yes, but never past your limits.

That seems to be how you end up here, looking up at her with your bare chest almost heaving as her blackened claws trail up your leg. “Please,” you whine, your hand pathetically grabs onto her wrist, trying to move her hand to your dripping, aching cunt. Arlecchino’s response is to click her tongue, shake her head and capture both of your wrists with her one hand before firmly pinning them above your head with a murmur of “needy girl,” her eyes boring into yours. “We go at my pace, or not at all.”

She decides you’d look stunning with her favourite black ribbon tied around your wrists. So, she does just that, tying it tightly before giving a sharp tug to make sure you can’t escape. You feel the bed dipping as she moves, and you hear the opening of the drawer. Her charred fingers dance over the huge selection of toys as she hums, purposely taking her time to tease you just a little longer. She’ll never admit it, but she’s had every single toy custom made for you, every strap with the perfect curve to hit the gummy spot inside of your pussy every time, every vibrator with the perfect setting to elicit delicious moans from your lips. Eventually, she chooses one. Or rather, two. One vibrator, your personal favourite, and her favourite strap. A crimson red that fades into the same black gradient as the one on her arms (she’s always liked to pretend it was real).

She saunters back over to you, the bed dipping once more. Her low voice, one that reminds you of velvet, whispers into your ear, her lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “How many do you need this time, sweet girl?” The way she says ‘need’ instead of ‘want’ reminds you that she knows you so, so well. She responds before you can find your voice. “As many as I want, I think. Don’t you?” Your head nods earnestly, your hips lifting in invitation. Arlecchino doesn’t take her red crosses for irises off of you, despite her hands moving to strap the harness onto her fully clothed body. She’s always liked to fuck you with her clothes on and you naked, the only thing she’ll ever take off is her suit jacket, and it’s only so your hands won’t scratch it to pieces.

Her fingers finally make contact with your needy clit, making you gasp. You don’t miss the way her nails have been filed on that one hand, though you know that the second you bring it up, she’ll shut it down. “Soaked for me already, hm? Good girl.” Arlecchino begins by rubbing small circles, riling you up before she eventually turns on the vibrator, the buzzing ringing through the air. Your breath speeds up immediately when you recognise the familiar sound of your favourite one, and you whimper the second it touches you. She knows it isn’t enough for you, though. Not when you’re this needy.

Gathering your wetness with the tip of the silicone strap, she glides it across your slit before slipping it between your folds. She looks at you, raising a singular arched brow as she waits for you to signal that you’re ready. The second you do, she pushes her hips forward, letting your pussy accept it with ease. Already, your back is arching, and she hasn’t even moved yet. She starts slow, almost achingly slow, with shallow thrusts that make you whisper pleading words. She shushes you with her hand over your mouth before she pulls her hips back. You think she’s stopping, until she makes eye contact with you, and with a grunt, she slams her hips back into you, hitting your g-spot and causing you to cry out. Arlecchino pulls back again, only to repeat the movement. Her grunts are like music to your ears, and you wonder if it’s turning you on more than the actual movement, the way her lips part with every grunt, her one hand over your mouth, the other one pressing your hips firmly to the bed so you’re unable to move.

She speeds up quickly, until the bed is moving with every fast and hard movement. Your sounds are muffled by the palm of her hand, but both of you know the neighbours would be hearing you should she release her grip. As you approach your first orgasm of the night, thanks to her thrusting and the vibrations on your clit, your eyes fill with tears of relief and pleasure, only for your eyes to roll back when it crashes over you. Arlecchino slows down just enough to help you through it, glancing down at the creamy ring formed around the base of the strap before she continues the pace she was originally going at. You cum again, then again, until you reach your fourth, and by this point, Arlecchino’s suit jacket is indeed, off, even though your hands are tied. You manage to give the non verbal signal, three knocks on the wood of the bed, and she immediately turns off the vibrator, releases her grip on your mouth and slows into soft thrusts until she stops completely. The strap is pulled out of you with a soft pop, her breath just as heavy as yours.

You are well and truly spent, your naked body shivering from the power of the orgasms. Her hands, uncharacteristically gentle, unties the ribbon, letting your hands free. But she doesn’t let you move yet, no. Instead, she finds your favourite pyjamas, dressing you in them with a soft kiss planted to the crown of your head. She disappears into the kitchen wordlessly before coming back with your favourite drink, settling herself on the bed and pulling you against her before passing it to you. And of course, Arlecchino whispers sweet nothings as her nails trail lazy circles across your arm. Arlecchino is a master of many things, and your favourite thing is the way she makes you feel when she’s done giving you what you need.

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[beiibeiii]

i'm stuck in loops of your mind

husband!arlecchino x wife!reader angst

tw - character death mentioned, angst, sad arle, grieving, two endings?, fluff, soft arle, arles bday special, icl this is really shit 💀, kinda late whoops, not really that sad now that im finished with this 💀 not proofread at all

the day starts early in the morning, with the feeling of her arms wrapped around you. you two are both in your bed. her warm body was pressed against yours, her pyro vision heating you up throughout the night. the sun was barely in the sky. just raising across the clear horizon. the feeling of peacefulness flowing through the atmosphere. arlecchino's hand gently stroking through the soft locks of your hair. her softened eyes lazily gaze over your sleeping form. your soft little breaths and the way you just looked in her arms had her hooked, absolutely mesmerised. you had her wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. you looked so perfect, even with your messy bed hair. you were endearing. she felt her heart swell in love. she wanted to wake up to this sight every day.

the sun starts to peek through the curtains now. you feel yourself stir awake. you feel her arms enveloped around you, her hand idly playing with your hair, carefully massaging your scalp. taking time to not accidentally scratch you with her nails. your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the light.

"good morning.. arle.." you groaned out softly. arlecchino looks down at you, your sleepy gaze meeting hers. you already knew today was arlecchino's birthday. you wanted to shower her with so much love today. you had already secretly been planning so much for today.

"good morning, my dear." arlecchino mumbles, lowly, back. you smile, your eyes curling up in happiness as you cup her face, a hint of sloppiness evident in your movements. she leans into your touch as if it was muscle memory to her. your eyes flutter closed as your lips fall onto hers. the kiss was sweet. you can feel her lips curl up against your mouth. she loved the feeling of your soft lips against hers. it was addicting.

arlecchino lets out low hum of content. pulling away, your eyes flutter open to her loving gaze. "happy birthday, peruere. i love you." your voice is laced with love. a soft, sleepy smile adorns your face. your thumb is gently rubbing her pale skin. arlecchino feels her heart fill with compassion. there it was, her real name. she feels as if time slowed down. the way the sunlight beamed on your face. how her name rolled off your tongue so easily. it broke down her cold walls she had boxed herself in with. her expressions softens a little more.

she feels the tips of her ears heating up already, the day hadn't even begun yet. she wanted to stay in this moment with you, forever. her lips curl up. you were just so perfect. "how did i get so lucky? i love you so much, my dear." arlecchino mumbles under her breath lovingly.

the two of you bask in each others warmth a while longer. whispering sweet things into each others ears as the sun fully rises. there was no need to get up so early today. you was excited as you had spent all week planning her surprise with the children. you just couldn't wait to see her reaction. how her lips would purse and how her eyes would narrow, trying to hold back a smile in front of the children. you just loved her so much, and so did she.

and so, when you do get up at around 10am. arlecchino walks off into her office to go finish reading a report. she tells you she'll be done quickly. good this is perfect! you manage to slip away from arlecchino's gaze and meet up outside with the children. as you greet them all. lyney starts helping by tasking everyone what to do. you making sure everything looks alright and in place in time. you were all going to surprise arlecchino with a barbecue dinner. not long after, as arlecchino finishes her papers, you and the children had just finished up. you give your thanks to lyney, lynette, freminet and the rest of the house of the hearth.

you quickly walk back inside, going to look for her, trying to hold back that massive smile on your face. you felt like a giddy teenager, you were so excited! as you were walking up to her office arlecchino walks out. greeting you with a small hum, noticing your happy expression. her eyebrows furrow in confusion. what had you done?

"you look happy, did something happen?" she muses, an eyebrow of hers raising in curiosity. the corner of your eyes crinkle as you smile, grabbing her by the wrist lightly and tugging her lightly.

"i have a surprise for you! come on!" you looked so happy, your smile brightening her whole world. without an other word, arlecchino lets herself be dragged outside by you. you lightly tug her pass the hallways and to the grand doors leaning outside. your hand lets go of her, going to her side as you lean your body onto hers, flashing her a cheeky smile as you look up at her. "open the door!" you ask her excitedly.

though she was skeptical, arlecchino chuckles to herself lightly. her gaze softening seeing your enthusiastic in your bright eyes was everything to her. "alright, my dear. here i go now." her voice is soft as her hand lightly ruffles your hair. her hand now on the doorknob, twisting it unlocked and walking out.

arlecchino is met by an attack of party poppers. a loud shout of "happy birthday!" is heard. the colourful, bright confetti getting all over the both of us. her lips part as her gaze momentarily softens. she was not expecting this at all.. you laugh softly at her surprised reaction. the children has paper, party hats on their heads arlecchino sees balloons around the place. a barbecue, her favourite of course, and a 3 layered cake saying "happy birthday father." on it. the candles are lit, it looks like it had been made by the children with a little help from you. arlecchino stands there, covered in confetti almost speechless. even if she didn't show it, you could tell she was happy.

you turn to her with a gentle smile on your face. you hands in her hair to pull some confetti of out it. "do you like it?" you question, your head tilting to the side, your eyes turning into half moons. arlecchino lets out a small sigh, smiling ever so slightly.

"i love it. thank you my dear." she replies, gazing at your gentle look. her heart swelled with love. feeling cared for and appreciated. the fact you and everyone had put in so much effort for her, meant so much more to her than you'd ever imagine. the children cheer happily. giggling and laughing with each other lyney walks up to arlecchino with the birthday cake in hand. lynette and freminet stood behind him. the trio had light smiles.

"happy birthday father. you should make a wish." lyney says with a kind smile. arlecchino lets out a low hum, looking down at the cake. the cake was definitely not perfect, but she knew it was baked from pure love. there was no cake sweeter than one made from love. arlecchino glances at you momentarily, slightly hesitant? you flash her a smile, urging her on.

she nodded, closing her eyes as she made a wish. a wish that meant everything to her. she blows the candles out, and the party starts.

the party goes on for a few hours. it was lively, fun occasion. the children playing with each other. the delicious smell of the barbecue fills the air. the smoke going up in the clear blue skies. you all enjoy a lovely barbecue dinner. she received gifts and cards from the children. you just could see arlecchino's content expression. she was so beautiful like this. your hand finds its way into hers. your wedding rings together. her hand firmly squeezing yours.

"this means the world to me. thank you, my dear." she mumbles lowly to you. her words full of warmth and love.

the day ends, arlecchino finds herself outside with you near a river. the two of you watch the sunset together. the beautiful golden rays reflect onto the river. taking in the serene view in front of the both of you. the setting sun painted the sky in a glorious blend of orange, red, and purple hues, casting long shadows across yourselves. tranquility in the air. the setting sun sets across the horizon in a picturesque view. the water ripples ever gently, almost as if it was dancing to the setting sun. trees rustling gently in the calm summer breeze. her facial expression was soft.

"i love you, my dear. thank you for today." she tells you softly. she turns to face to you. her gaze full of love.

fic can end here for fluff ending stop reading if u dont want angst ending

there was no reply to her sweet words. of course. arlecchino's gaze falls upon the roses and small slice of birthday cake in front of your grave. she freezes at the loud silence. her eyes narrowing, the reality dawning upon her, crawling up her spine and into her heart just to split it open. the whole day had gone the same. just without you. you wasn't real. you were dead.

her mind was stuck in denial. the visions of you etched into her mind, burning into her memories. the memories of you stuck on repeat, in loops of her mind. she only feels, seeing your face. the feeling of grief implodes her mind. "i hope you enjoy the cake. the children baked it themself." she continues hesitantly. what a bitter feeling.

she lets out a uneven sigh of despair. "the children were good today. they surprised me." she muses, a small bittersweet smile. trying to reassure you more than herself. the small crack in her voice evident. the silence was so deafening. "you know, they miss you too.." her voice is followed by a tremble. she feels stupid trying to talk to you. her heart feels restricted. her hand grips onto her blouse. fuck her chest felt so tight. the irony of the situation falling into her she feels so weak for once. why couldn't she of saves you, she should of saved you.

"i miss you." she whispers lowly. her voice on the verge of breaking now. the cruel truth caving in on her, leaving no way out. it had already been a few months. she couldn't accept it. it was too much. it affected her more then she wanted to admit. she feels the despair bubbling up and into her head wanting to release, to let it all out.

she closes her eyes, carefully leaning her head on your grave. her heart heavy, plummeting down to depths arlecchino didn't even know existed. she feels a cold tear run down her cheek. the darkness of the night and the harsh reality of life would start casting over her. she would stay there. talking to you until the sun would rise. her voice was full of bittersweetness.

god she missed you so much.

"i love you, so, so much, my dear."

[aixeko]

✧.* " Feels like we had matching wounds but mine's still black and bruised and yours is perfectly fine now. " *.✧

| Starring |  Heartless-Husband!Arlecchino x Wife!Reader

| Setting | Genshin universe

| Scenario | [ DRABBLE ] ANGST! Hurt no comfort. One sided love. Toxic relationship. Pronouns are not used, only the title “wife” is used. 

► RADIO CHANNEL [Author note] | Art credit: 雨睡 / ojiusa on Twitter

× 1/4 drabble for Arle, will span in the course of the next 3 days for her birthday. × The fic accidentally became so similar to the song by the name of "The Exit" by Conan Gray. Good grief, I love it.

[ Word count: 915 ]

Imagine how frustrating it is to fall in love with someone as emotionally detached as Arlecchino—especially considering the circumstances surrounding her past wounds and the fractured void where her heart should lie.

Not only that, Arlecchino, in no way shape or form, is an ordinary mortal; no, the woman possesses feats that still remain unbeknownst to the common folks, the fourth of the Fatui Harbinger—a woman whose power is near god-like scaling and a mastermind in the art of psychological subterfuge. To even fantasize about her reciprocating your feelings, even on the platonic spectrum, is beyond preposterous. And for one's possession of such thoughts as a commoner too? It is practically shaming the esteemed legacy of her name and the reputation she holds. It is absurdly outside the unceasing versatility of the imaginative mind; to even achieve a feat like this is not even praisable; it's pathetic. Because why would the great and infamous Arlecchino, a Harbinger feared by many, show her presence to the likes of you?

Unfortunately, for the one cold star that is the destiny your heart has followed, your relationship does have a label. A husband and a wife, but in actuality, it is simply just that, a label. The dawning reality hidden under the layers of falsehood is but a one-sided beneficial connection.

To Arlecchino, you are a mere pawn, insignificant in value and easily replaceable, to be maneuvered around the vast field of her intricately thought-out chessboard, where every single move is foreseen by her convoluted calculations to achieve her ultimate goal. She is the king with the mastery to dictate the game's outcome to her desire, and you are just one of the many disposable pieces to be sacrificed for her victory.

So why must you stay longer with the very same being that shatters your heart like breathing? Why must your heart desire her so much? Had you fallen so far that your heart dare not let her go?

"Your grace and acquiescence enchant me, rare as they are lovely. Truly, you are an obedient angel, a treasure beyond measure, a diamond among the sea of glass."

Her heavenly lies ensnare you ever so effortlessly. Was it this rare showcase of affection of "true love" that blinded you so completely?

"A Harbinger's life leaves little to no room for love. Be a dear and use that pretty little head of yours solely on obeying my orders."

Ensnared by Arlecchino's siren song, her words detain you in a state of imprisonment, alluring you into a fictitious world where each promise adds another bar and each whispers another stone. In this fabricated reality, only Arlecchino exists as the true player, leaving you with a love that never was. Was it your infatuation and utter attachment to her that blinded you to the point of abandoning your freedom ever so easily in exchange for this nonexistent, one-sided relationship?

"There are desires that you lack in fulfillment; is it wrong to seek an external party for such a minuscule problem? Your fatigue is clouding your judgment; seek your chamber; you must be tired."

How can one love be so enticing and manipulative that its power warps the mind, blinding the blatant betrayal right before your very eyes? Was it the fragility of your heart that's effortlessly puppeteered that made you forgive her?

August 22nd. Your husband's birthday has arrived. Your heart aches as you clutch the divorce in your hands. You are torn between love and sacrifice; the paper—gift holds freedom for the both of you, but despite the toxicity of it all, you can't help but be reluctant to let it all go.

You can't help but admit that it felt amazing. A part of you prayed that she would decline your proposal, that she would devote your love to you, that she would assure you of all the troubles in your relationship, and that she would make you stay.

Despite all the deeds that she has done to you, your heart still desires a delusional fantasy that chases after the farthest side of the ever-expanding cosmic, never in range for your hand to grasp.

When you settled down in her office and handed the divorce paper with a shaking hand, the words that left her mouth were so cold, so cold that you felt the temperature in your body decrease in real time.

"That noggin of yours finally concluded a proper notion, I see. Any longer, and I ought to have done the deed myself, it was about time we ended this little game of ours."

Those very words sink to the deepest part of your soul and will be anchored there for as long as you live. It was those words that dawned on you about the harsh reality that you had gotten yourself stuck in.

As if it couldn't have gone worse, shortly after you handed her the divorce papers, she announced to the world her "first" official relationship with another one who isn't you.

The truth has struck you, one with a speed faster than light. The truth of it all is that you are merely a background character, playing the role of fulfillment to make the true main character of the story shine.

The truth is that to Arlecchino, you are only one of the countless blurred encounters of passing scenes in her story.

The truth is, you are simply an invisible backdrop in the vast scenery, a pawn in a world full of kings.

[harbingersglory]

Hello, could I have transfem Signora x fem!reader smut? Any scenario is fine, just need dom Signora railing me 😩

{☆} characters la signora {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, dom la signora, transfem la signora {☆} warnings 18+ content, restraints, temperature play, face fucking, degradation, pet play

There's a moment of silence that lingers for far too long, the cold nipping at your exposed skin until you feel shivers wrack your body. You squirm instinctively, seeking out the fading warmth of the thick furs laid out beneath you, yet finding nothing but the cold that chills you to your bones. You can't even see, your eyes covered by black fabric, silk tying your arms together behind your back.

It's almost torturous waiting like this. Your knees sink further into the fur as you lean your weight forward slightly, exhaling a shaky breath. You begin to wonder if Signora left you there– maybe you'd annoyed her earlier and she was punishing you. You hoped not. She wasn't known for being lenient when it came to punishments.

But the brush of her fingers along your jawline squashed that fear, your breath hitching as her thumb glided over your throat, the heat of her skin making you shudder. The contrast of the cold room, of your freezing body, to the unnatural heat that simmers beneath her skin is immense– your knees would have definitely buckled if you hadn't been kneeling already.

"Did you think I'd left you here all alone? You're shaking like a dog." The soft, biting lilt was nothing more than a murmur, but for you it was impossible not to hear the pleased tone beneath the roughness of her voice. Your heart leaps into your throat when her fingers trace back up along your jawline, lifting your head and tilting it back just enough to be uncomfortable.

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are silenced by her thumb slipping past your lips instead– you don't fight back, even though the sudden intrusion catches you off guard enough you almost bite her finger instead. You almost consider doing it anyway, but she's so rarely in a good mood it feels rude to spoil it.

"Pets don't speak until they're told," She chides, pressing down on your tongue slightly and laughing at the way you almost choke in surprise. "And I don't remember giving you permission."

You can only manage a garbled whine in response, your face burning in embarrassment– but it's quickly silenced by the click of her tongue and the creak of the old chair you know sits by the fireplace, her thumb sliding out between your lips to drag you closer. Close enough to feel the rush of heat across your skin as your cheek is pressed against her thigh, her hands resting on the back of your head. You can't see it, but you sure can imagine the smug smile that must be tugging at her lips right about now.

"Let's see about fixing your little disobedient streak, darling." She murmurs, digging her nails into your scalp and tugging you even closer, the furs beneath you doing little to prevent the ache in your knees from kneeling. But you don't complain– you know what she wants, and you want it too. "Open."

Like the dog she seems so fond of treating you as, you listen– you're not as surprised this time when her fingers fill your mouth, forcing it open even further until you can feel the saliva collecting and dribbling down your chin. She doesn't seem to mind, even laughing at how pitiful you probably look, drooling all over her fingers.

But Signora is a hard woman to satisfy, and this will hardly do anything other then work her up enough to really break you in. You can just barely hear the rustle of fabric over your heartbeat, gloved hands tugging you closer and forcing you to press right up against the edge of the chair. It's almost uncomfortable, the way the chair presses against your chest, but she always has you teetering on that fine edge.

"Perhaps you can be trained after all." Signora's voice is like a balm, the heat of her body driving away the cold and urging you impossibly closer, until you feel her hand guide you down just as her fingers slip out of your mouth again– right up until you feel her cock against your cheek. "Show me that you can be obedient, mutt, and maybe I'll let you sit on my lap."

You know she's just dangling a treat just out of reach, but you can't help but reach for it anyway.

Your tongue drags across the underside of her cock, so slow you can hear the hiss that rattles in her chest halfway between pleasure and impatience. You take your time anyway, lingering until you reach the tip and press a kiss against it. You almost wish you could see her face, but she's never been fond of expressing anything outwardly when you can see it– just the idea of her brows furrowed, of her face flush and her lip caught between her teeth..it's enough.

It's not hard to imagine it anyway when the heat grows hotter, nearly turning the room into an oven before she catches herself. You aren't stupid enough to mention it, but your smile must be enough, because a low growl makes you shiver– so you drag your tongue from the base to the tip again, revel in the way it throbs beneath your tongue. For a moment you almost have something like control, your saliva dripping down her aching cock as you lap at it like a mutt.

But you're both growing impatient– the sharp click of her nails against the chairs arms makes you shudder, urging you to lift yourself up just enough to wrap your lips around the head with a muffled groan. You consider dragging it out just a moment longer, just to see if you can get her to whine, but she knows you better then you do– before you can even blink, her hand shoves you down. You, predictably, gag. Your throat burns from the stretch, but it's not unpleasant, eased by the pleasured hiss that tumbles from her lips. Signora at least has the mercy to let you get used to it for a moment before she drags you back up, the emptiness in your throat making you whine before she's shoving her cock back down your throat. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, your own sounds of pleasure muffled and garbled as she does it again– and again.

"Finally quiet, mutt?" She laughs, but it's strained– her voice quivers slightly as she fucks your throat like your nothing but a toy to her, drool dribbling down your chin and tears staining the blindfold. "If I knew it was this easy to shut you up, I'd have done it a long time ago."

You so badly want to do something, but with your hands tied behind your back and her fucking your face so rough, so fast, you can barely even think..there's not much you can do but let her, your cunt clenching around nothing. You really hope she wasn't lying about that reward, for once. You're practically dripping on her floor while she uses you, just barely able to squeeze your thighs together for a fraction of friction.

It only serves to make you more desperate, though.

"Fuck– or maybe you're too stupid to know better. You'd just let any pretty woman with a cock use you," Her breathing was getting heavier, more strained, but her grip on your hair didn't relent. Neither did the harsh thrust of her hips, her cock constantly hammering into your throat until you felt dizzy. "You're lucky I'm even willing to train a mutt like you."

Your mind starts to feel fuzzy, the words blending together until she digs her nails into your scalp and forces you down again– and keeps you there. You nearly gag again when you feel her shudder, her cock throbbing in your mouth as her cum spills down your throat, your hands straining against the silk binding them together. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, nostrils flaring and your body tensing– you don't even realize you'd briefly lost consciousness until your find yourself on her lap, rather then on your knees, her hands brushing the strands of hair stuck to your face with sweat out of your eyes.

It's the most gentle she's been all night– and likely as gently as she will be tonight. You lean into her touch anyway, groaning softly and shuddering at the taste of her on your tongue mixed with her cock throbbing against your thigh.

"I'm not done yet, darling. Did you think I'd let you get away with a little light training?" She laughs, cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss that's far too gentle to your cheek, the warmth of her body almost suffocating– but you welcome it, like you always do.

So you nod, smiling drowsily and spreading your legs like a good pet should.

[chucapybara]

thinking vv loudly about arlecchino as always—particularly her vision story entry

fire is still able to harm teyvat dwellers, even those with pyro visions. arlecchino's curse, among her two other sources of power, are no different.

perhaps arlecchino burned herself a few times, learning the ways of these strengths bestowed upon her for being of a lineage forgotten, eclipsed, the shade of a hollow, abyssal moon. and of the ink she bears, striking lines and markings along her arms, her hands, the charcoal hue at the tips of them; it's all a part of who she's come to be, making something of the ashes.

at times, in the grace of moonlight, you catch her by the windowsill. she does not take much to sunlight, preferring to stalk in the shadows, but the night was a different story; she allows the glow of it to illuminate her skin, the blackened arms. a reminder of what she has had to sacrifice to be here, to escape her fate, only to be thrust into another one.

her coat lays neatly folded over the back of a chair, and you brush your fingertips along the fabric—the feathered motifs, the sharp silver layers—as you pass. she knows you're here, of course; she senses you always when you've joined her in orbit, two inseparable celestials, sun and moon.

you embrace her from behind, and she does not protest, not so much as a breath of complaint. yours is the only touch she will allow, even when she would never even dream of allowing you an ounce of her burden.

(you hold her tighter, your cheek pressed to her bare shoulder. your lips paint 'ffections over a scar there, a line from a sword cut. her breath stutters. you take some of the weight with you when you withdraw.)

in the glimpse of the moonlight you catch the solemnity of her gaze, sharp, but never at you. in searching do your fingers thread between hers, clasping, thumb brushing the rings she has. her own, and those of the union that bound you together, in cursed sickness and in health, 'til death do you so part.

arlecchino's curse does not recede—it is far too late for that—but it has not grown in the length of time you have loved her, as she has loved you, and you are grateful for it. you bring her hand up to your lips, draping kisses along her knuckles.

she turns her head more, takes in the sight of you, and some of the edge falters from her gaze. arlecchino draws closer, her own lips pressing sweetly against your temple.

"you worry."

"it's my job, isn't it?" you whisper, as your kisses trace down the mark of her arm, to another healed sword cut, to a burn on her forearm. you inch down, almost kneeling, when she beckons you higher and embraces you tight.

"no," she breathes; a refusal, albeit a futile one. she knows you'll worry for her anyway.

it almost surprises you, the way she melts into your form—but you know it is a quiet moment for her, a silent request for your presence. for you to stay, for time to stop, to just give her this. to give her this.

she would never have you kneel for her. teyvat would sooner fall to barren ruins than ever see you on your knees for your husband.

arlecchino burrows into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. it tickles, some. your hands settle by her shoulderblades, by her spine. a warm pulse beats strong by her breast, and you know with due certainty it is the gemstone proof of her defiance against the heavens—her defiance for more days in the shade, more hours with you.

(once, she may have found the feeling of you creeping under her ribcage as intrusive, even abhorrent, but your place in the flesh of her heart sets her free, now.)

she keeps her vision close to her heart, but you will always nestle closer, and such is where you know you'll stay, once the skies begin to fall. cursed or not, she would face the dreadful dawn—to endure it all, the burning flame in her blood, the heavens shattering. to live, in spite of everything.

and you'll witness all of it, right there by her side.