#signora fluff

[kurogane2512]

highschool au, Class president Signora x Delinquent Female reader?? idk, I just rlly love this trope >:3

This was very unique I love it, I don't think I have seen any high school au with Signora especially one where she's a student (I'd personally imagine her as a teacher but that's just me) so this was amazing to write, thank you for the request <3

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: La Signora x fem!reader (class president!Rosalyne x delinquent!reader)

Type: SFW, fluff with plot (long fic, Highschool AU)

"Yo dude, did you go to that place I told you about?" a friend of yours asked.

"That shop? I didn't find it, did you send the wrong address?" you replied.

"Nah, it was right. Let's go there after school today."

"Let's just skip the rest of the classes! It's anyways that stupid maths class." you suggested.

"Yeah, that's right! Great idea!" both of your friends agreed.

You three were lounging at the back of the classroom during lunch and chatting away.

"Ahem, before you three leave, let me remind you that you still haven't submitted last week's assignment." a familiar voice spoke from behind you, making you irritated as you knew who it was— the class president.

"What's your problem, Ms class president?" one of your friends said in an angry voice.

"My problem is you three and your consistent indiscipline. This is my final reminder about that assignment, do not come at me when the teacher gives you 0 for it."

The class president, Rosalyne, declared before turning around with a 'hmph' and leaving. You watched her exit the classroom and let out an exasperated sigh.

"She's so annoying, always on our tails for homework and what not. Doesn't she have better things to do? I swear these model students are always so high-headed." one of your friends said.

"She's your typical prodigy, perfect at studies and sports and basically everything. Ignore her, she'll stop coming at us." you replied then stood up with your bag and proceeded to walk away.

"Yo, where are you going?" your friend asked.

"I have some other work. I'll meet you guys in the last period now." you waved to your friends and walked out, leaving them confused as they had no idea what you had to do.

"Hey, what about the plan to go to that shop?" your friend asked.

"Eh, let's go tomorrow. I'm not in the mood today."

You came out of the classroom and suddenly found Rosalyne standing near the corner talking to a teacher. You couldn't help but gaze at her from afar; it was true she was perfect- always well dressed, well mannered, top scorer and on the path to become the Student Council President next year. There was no doubt she'd get the position. You two were worlds apart, she'd never see you as anything more than a nuisance.

You watched Rosalyne finish talking with the teacher then slowly walked behind her to catch up to her. She stopped walking after a while and turned around to see you with a frown, "Why are you following me?"

You averted your gaze then clicked your tongue and proceeded to take out a notebook from your bag and handed it to her, "The pending assignment."

Rosalyne became confused for a moment then understood what you meant, becoming slightly surprised. She took the notebook from your hand and flipped a few pages then remarked, "Your handwriting is terrible."

"I didn't ask for your judgement. Bye."

You turned around and walked away, refusing to hear anything else from her. Rosalyne also spoke nothing more and went her own way. It would appear you both had a mutual disdain for each other, which wasn't surprising to you. You went to your secret spot which was a quiet corner behind the school building, a place that was generally empty and devoid of any surveillance. You liked to be alone here, doing nothing but rest in solace and tranquility. It was the only place where you felt at peace.

Back at your class, Rosalyne was taking attendance for the next lecture when she noticed you were missing once again. Both of your friends were still in class, she had noticed it wasn't rare for you to go somewhere on your own without them. She had asked them where you'd go but even they didn't know. She couldn't help but wonder what the deal was with you, she wished you'd improve and take care of yourself better.

It was the last period when you finally came back to class and the first person to greet you was none other than Rosalyne, "Where were you for the last 2 periods?" she demanded to know.

"None of your business, get out of my way."

You nudged her shoulder as you walked in, making her annoyed.

"It is my business because I have to mark a reason for your absence in the lecture." Rosalyne retorted.

"Oh yeah? Just write that I was fucking dead. Happy?"

Rosalyne's eyes widened but she didn't want to argue further. She decided to save her energy and walked away with a 'hmph', finally giving you some peace and quiet. Your days at school mostly went in a similar way; you fooling around and doing whatever you liked while this persistent class president tried to get you on track. Correcting your uniform every morning, scolding you for disrupting classes, correcting your sitting style, reminding you of assignments.... everything and so much more was part of her routine with you.

You genuinely wondered why she hadn't given up yet and remained so persistent. Perhaps she had some fun with it, bossing you around. Perhaps she was just that patient and determined to show this on her record- being able to correct a delinquent student.

One fine day, Rosalyne came to the library during a free lecture to self-study on her own. Rest of the class had all gone to different places to spend the time but she wanted to study for the upcoming exams and knew the library was the best place. She walked to the second floor of the library and searched for an empty table before finally spotting one in the corner. She walked closer to it and the table came in more view when she became shocked to see the one person who was sitting on it.

"Y/n? She's in the library of all places? And is she actually studying?"

Rosalyne wondered if her eyes were deceiving her but it was all true. She walked up to the table and silently sat on the chair in front of you, glancing at your work. You were lost in whatever you were doing and didn't notice her until she spoke to you.

"That method won't work."

You heard the familiar voice and looked up to see Rosalyne in front of you, "You—?! What the hell are you doing here?"

"That should be my question. I thought you'd take the free lecture to fool around."

You looked away with a frown, "I..... um.... w-what does it matter to you? And why did you come and sit here? You just like watching me suffer, don't you?"

Rosalyne frowned as well and extended her hand forward then suddenly flicked your forehead, "Be quiet in here at least."

You groaned in pain and rubbed the spot she flicked then proceeded to pack up your things.

"Where are you going?" Rosalyne asked.

"To sit somewhere away from you."

Rosalyne sighed, "If you study like that then you will fail."

"Thanks for the tip, Ms class president." you said with a scoff and walked to another table.

Rosalyne genuinely thought to help you but she knew it was futile to argue. She took out her own and started studying by herself, deciding to take her mind off you and focus on her own result. However, she couldn't help but glance at you every now and then. She could tell whenever you struggled with something, your reactions were rather obvious as you'd scratch your head or crumple the paper in annoyance.

An hour or two passed when it was the end of the day and she began packing her things. She looked in your direction one last time but was shocked to see you had already left, she didn't notice you go. She sighed to herself and soon left the school building and was on her way home. She received a text from her mother telling her to buy a few things while coming hence decided to take a detour and stop by a shopping centre. She was nearby an alleyway when she heard some faint shouting.

She cautiously walked in the direction the sound came from and reached an empty ground. She spotted a group of people inside and hid behind the corner to silently observe, she didn't want to get in trouble unnecessarily but she couldn't ignore the shouting either. She watched for a while to try and see who the people were until her eyes widened as she spotted a familiar face, "Y/n? What is she doing here? And who are these people? Those uniforms.... it's the school near ours, I think."

Rosalyne continued watching but she wished she could hear what you were saying. Then all of a sudden, you lunged at one student in front and pinned her to the ground while choking her. The other students gathered around you and threw you off then engaged in a fist fight with you, it was just you against all of them and you were easily beat up by them. She tried to intervene but nobody was around and she didn't know what to do. She then took out her phone and recorded whatever she could until the fight ended.

She was on the verge of calling the police but everyone ran away leaving you alone, all battered and injured on the ground. Rosalyne looked around and waited for a few moments to see if anyone would come to help but nobody did and she couldn't stay behind any longer. You laid on the barren grass with cuts and bruises, blood dripping down your nose and a swollen eye along with other injuries mostly on your face.

You grunted in pain and tried to sit up then wiped the blood from your nose. A shadow appeared in front of you and you realized someone was standing behind you. You turned around to see who it was and saw none other than Rosalyne, her shining hair glowing against the setting sun and swaying with the wind. She appeared no less like an angel this way.

"You again...." you said in an annoyed tone, ".....Must be a pleasant sight for you to see me this way."

Rosalyne furrowed her brows then extended her arm forward, "Come on."

You looked at her held out palm then slapped it away, "I don't need your help. Leave me alone."

Rosalyne gritted her teeth and forcefully held your arm then pulled you up on your feet, your steps fumbling for a moment making you lean against her. You tried to push yourself away but had no strength in your body. Rosalyne seemingly didn't mind the way you leaned on her and in fact wrapped her arms around you and held you comfortably.

"Why were you fighting with them? And where were you friends?" Rosalyne asked.

"None of your business...."

"I saw everything so you better tell me otherwise I'm sending the footage to the police."

You clicked your tongue, "It's not a big deal. I hangout with these guys sometimes, this is our usual spot. As for my friends, they live in the opposite direction so I never go home with them unless we have plans to hangout elsewhere."

Rosalyne hummed then fetched a handkerchief from her bag and handed it to you, "Wipe off the blood with this."

"I don't need it. It'll be fine, not my first time bleeding this way."

You gathered some strength in your body and pushed yourself away from her and stood up on your feet. You picked up your bag from the ground and proceeded to walk away.

"Don't mention this to anyone. Bye."

You waved at her but Rosalyne wasn't giving up so soon. She swiftly walked up to you and tightly held your wrist and started pulling you with herself.

"H-Hey, what the hell?! Let me go!"

"Shut it and just listen to me for once!" Rosalyne shouted and you immediately went quiet, it was the first time you heard her speak like this.

You let her take you wherever for the rest of the way, her hand not releasing yours at all. It was a strange feeling, having her hold your hand and take you somewhere. You didn't know she could be stubborn this way. You turned a few corners then she stopped in front of a house and you noted the nameplate, 'Lohefalter'. It was her house. You tried to speak but she just pulled you inside silently.

The inside was a small, cozy complex, enough for a family of 3 or 4. You didn't know if she had siblings so you couldn't guess. Though, you couldn't admire the house much as she took you to one of the rooms straightaway and made you sit on the bedside while she fetched something from the cupboard. You looked around the room and it was easy to tell it was her room.

You suddenly became nervous even though it wasn't a big deal. Her room had a pleasant rosy aroma and had minimalistic yet sophisticated decorum, quite suitable for someone like her. It gave off a very womanly vibe that wasn't exactly cute but rather mature and elegant; and of course, there was a wall adorned with notes and study graphs, as expected from a topper.

Rosalyne came back to your side with a first-aid kit in hand. She sat beside you and opened the box to take out some cotton and bandages along with a disinfectant. She wiped the blood from your nose and inserted the cotton balls in your nostrills before gently scrubbing your other wounds with the disinfectant. You hissed in pain and looked away on an instinct, making her grasp your face and hold it steady.

"You didn't tell me why you were fighting them. I saw that you were the first to hit them, they must have said something to provoke you."

".....Why do you care?"

Rosalyne suddenly pressed a bit harshly on one of your cuts and you winced in pain then gave in.

"They insulted my mother.... called her names."

Rosalyne didn't know what reason she was expecting, but this was certainly not one of them. It made her realize there was so much she didn't know about you.

"What happened....?" she softly asked.

You furrowed your brows but decided to tell her, "My mom is.... my mom is a prostitute. I am basically one of her client's.... accidental thing. I don't know how they found out about this, I haven't told anyone in this city.... except you now."

"In this city? What do you mean?"

".....My mom sent me here some years ago all alone so that I wouldn't have to tolerate the discrimination in our hometown. She sends me money regularly and helped in school fees from the beginning. She tried raising me on her own but didn't want me to live in her shadow and struggle due to her."

Rosalyne silently listened while bandaging you up. It was a big revelation to her that made her understand you all too well.

"Are you still in contact with her?" she asked.

"Yes, we call once or twice a week. She didn't abandon me, just to be clear. She just wishes she was in better circumstances."

"I see.... so, you live alone? Or....."

"I live alone, yeah. All expenses are paid by her, I just have to do the usual household stuff alongside school work."

Rosalyne nodded in understanding as she didn't know what to say. This was quite a lot for her to hear.

"Thanks for this.... you are quite good at it." you said with a pout.

Rosalyne smiled and patted your shoulder, "If you stop being so stubborn, then I can help you in other things too."

You scoffed then suddenly leaned on her and soon laid your head on her lap, catching her off-guard.

"H-Hey, what are you—?!"

"Shut up, I just want to rest for a while...."

She couldn't help but blush at this. She watched you close your eyes and silently drift to sleep then smiled to herself. Her hands lightly caressed your face and hair, soothing you in any way possible.

"You could rest on the bed, you know...." she pondered but she wasn't against this. She could push you off but decided to give you this moment.

As she gazed at you, she recalled a particular memory. A secret about the past she had locked in her heart. It had been quite a few years but she remembered this vividly, every single detail about it. It was a day in her younger years, when she was around 13. She was a naive girl who got injured and was lost in an unfamiliar place, unable to go home. She cried as she sat under a tree and waited for her parents to come find her, the pain from the wound worsening her condition.

As if like a miracle, another girl who appeared close to her age came to her instead. This girl was rather chirpy and outgoing, she immediately wiped Rosalyne's tears and wrapped a cloth on her wound before offering to take her home. Rosalyne was reluctant at first as she was a stranger but the girl was genuinely trying to help, the smile on her face was reassuring. Rosalyne had tried to stand up and walk but tumbled due to her injury, and the girl didn't give a second thought to carry Rosalyne on her back.

Rosalyne was surprised but felt secure and safe with this unknown girl. She tried telling her the way to her home but both of them were equally oblivious about the area. Rosalyne discovered the girl had recently moved here and was exploring the area when she found her. Eventually, they were able to find Rosalyne's home after asking a few civilians on the street who guided them.

Rosalyne tried inviting the girl inside to thank her but the girl went away as fast as she came. That's when Rosalyne realized she didn't even ask the girl's name. Rosalyne spent all the next years on the lookout for the girl but never saw her again, it was as if she was never real and maybe Rosalyne only conjured her in her cry for help. Until one day when Rosalyne finally saw her again....

It was the first day of her high school and the girl was in front of her, in the same class as her. Rosalyne confirmed it many times and she was sure of it, it really was that girl. But what was this? This girl was no longer as the one she remembered. She looked like her but her mannerisms, her way of talking and overall demeanour was different. This girl was a far cry from the hero who saved her.

"Why don't you remember me, Y/n...." Rosalyne stopped her recollection of the past and pondered while gazing at you. While it was true she had changed quite a bit from her younger self, she had hoped you'd recognize her. Rosalyne still couldn't believe the girl in her memory was you. She denied it many times. How could an unruly delinquent be the one she was looking for all these years? But now she easily accepted this after knowing more about you.

Rosalyne wasn't sure if she should ever bring up the past with you. What if you had completely forgotten and it was never a big deal for you as it was for her? Not to mention, the two of you were always at odds that she even tried forgetting the past just so it wouldn't cloud her judgement about you. She smiled looking down at you and hoped you'd have a better relationship from now on, perhaps she'd finally be able to tell the past to you.

You went back home before her parents returned, thanking her for the help and asking her to keep your secret. Somehow, you were sure she wouldn't tell it to anybody. Maybe it was your impression on her due to her disciplined and trustworthy reputation, or maybe there was another reason you didn't want to reveal. The next day, you acted a bit different around each other. You weren't as unruly as before, preventing her from having a hard time.

At the same time, you gradually tried to get closer to her as a friend. It was strange how close you felt to her after unexpectedly revealing your secrets to her, in reality you had always wanted to friends with her but didn't know how to approach her. You found comfort in her touch when she tended to you and let you rest on her lap, you wanted that more. You asked her to help you study for exams and she was more than happy to oblige, your classmates found it weird how close you two got and felt like you were influencing her in the wrong way.

"Hey, can you teach me other subjects too? Math is done but I still struggle with others...." you asked her one day during your study time with her.

"I don't mind but we don't get time in school, you know?"

"Yeah, well uh.... y-you can come to my house, if you are okay with it...."

Rosalyne didn't expect this but had no reason to deny, she had also been curious about how you lived for a while now. You took her to your apartment after school, a single bedroom apartment which was decently kept as best as you could do.

"Do you want to eat or drink something? I don't have much stuff but I can try to make something...." you asked while looking through your fridge.

Rosalyne came to your side and looked inside the fridge too then hummed, "Would you mind if I make something? I can cook quite a few things with these."

"....You can cook?"

"Why, of course. Is that so surprising?"

"Yes, well.... you live with your parents who provide you with everything, right?"

Rosalyne chuckled, "How does that mean they wouldn't teach me to cook? My mother taught me at a young age and I quite like it myself. In fact, I always make my own lunch that I bring to school~"

You were surprised, just how much more perfect could be get? And how was she tolerating someone like you? No wonder everyone gave you weird looks for being with her. She cooked up a delicious meal for you in no time, a kind of meal you had never had in all these years you lived here. It was delicious and scrumptious, simply flawless.

"You are good at everything, huh.... So different from me." you mumbled while sitting with her.

"Hm? What do you mean, Y/n?"

"I mean, you are perfect. You have good grades, you are well-mannered and every teacher likes you, you are literally the class president since the first year and have never done anything wrong. And... w-well, you are really pretty too and can even cook. I'm surprised you aren't dating anybody."

Rosalyne found your mumbling adorable but also concerning, "You know, I wasn't always like this."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it takes considerable effort to be this way. I'm no natural genius, I have to study every day to maintain these grades. I had decided to be the Student Council President from the beginning so I started working on that since then, all these grades and good opinion from teachers matters. As for dating, you can guess by now I have no time for it. And for looks.... a-ahem, thank you for the compliment but I wasn't always pretty."

Rosalyne lightly blushed at the last part. You hummed in understanding, "No wonder you look so different now...."

Rosalyne's eyes widened at that, "What are you talking about?"

You averted your gaze, "Nothing. Don't mind, I'm just rambling."

Rosalyne furrowed her brows then grabbed your collar to make you face her, "Tell me. What did you mean just now?"

You became nervous and unsure to say it. Rosalyne sensed your uneasiness and slowly realized what was happening.

"You.... you remember the past, don't you? You remember the time we met as kids, right?!"

You couldn't keep it in anymore, "Yes.... I remember it all."

Rosalyne released your collar in shock and tried to process her emotions.

"Why didn't you say anything....?"

"....How could I? You changed so much...."

Tears formed in Rosalyne's eyes and she didn't know how to react.

"You didn't say anything either.... I assumed you forgot and well, I didn't want you to associate with me." you continued.

Rosalyne was silent until she raised her arm in a fist and lightly hit you on your chest. There was no force or power, she kept hitting you continuously in a similar manner as if scolding you.

"Do you have any idea how much I tried looking for you and wanting to see you again?! Do you have any idea how hurt I was that you seemingly forgot me?! You say I have changed but you are so different too yet I recognized you right away!" Rosalyne shouted.

"I recognized you too! I knew it was you right away! That's not what I mean by change! You.... You and I.... we are different people! Even now everyone gives me weird looks when I'm with you. I'm sure others must have told you to not bother with me!"

"Don't you see that I don't care about them?! Yes, many people have told me to stay away from you but I listened to none! Do you understand why? Or are you so convinced that you aren't worthy of me?!"

"I....! I just don't your reputation to be tarnished! You have worked hard to build all this! And you are so close to achieving your dream of being Student Council President now! I can't have you lose it now!"

Both of you were shouting your suppressed thoughts at each other with teary eyes. Your hearts felt heavy yet lighter with each thing you spoke, finally letting out your hidden desires. When you finally stopped, tears streamed down your faces and you panted heavily to recover your breaths. You looked at her teary face and remembered her face from years ago, the sight of her younger self crying for help and couldn't bear to see it.

You slowly extended your hand towards her and gently wiped her tears. She was surprised yet again but finally smiled now. You were about to pull your hand away but she stopped it by holding your wrist with one hand and extended her other towards your face and cupped it, wiping your tears as well. You were equally surprised now and blushed at her action. The next thing you knew, she leaned forward and kissed you.

Your eyes widened but you didn't pull away. How could you pull away when such soft and tempting lips were touching yours? Rosalyne crawled closer and gripped your shoulders as she kissed you deeper, eventually pushing you down on the couch and straddling you. It was messy and unkempt, both of you desperately moving your lips each other to take in everything.

It was your first kiss and from what you knew, hers too. Your hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, she released all tension in her body and was laying on you with all her weight now. Your lips didn't stop seeking each other's at all, it was like you were starved of each other for years.

Soft moans and hums left her mouth, she sounded sweet and addicting and you wanted it more. You were out of breath by the time she pulled back, both of you gazing at each other with haphazard breaths. She was still straddling you and your hands were securely holding her as if you were used to this. You didn't know what to do now, and perhaps neither did she.

"I..." you spoke while panting, "I like you, Rosalyne....."

That was the first thing that came to your mind. It was the absolute truth that you kept in for years. Rosalyne smiled at your words and gently caressed your face.

"I like you too, Y/n...."

This was probably the best outcome, an outcome you never expected to reach. Both of you decided to start dating now, though you wanted to keep it a secret for some time. The loneliness and your desperation for attention that you felt all these years vanished as soon as you started dating her. She fulfilled what you were missing, and in return you promised to support her through anything.

[tavvattales]

can i ask for signora and dottore with a female reader who breaks down whenever angry?

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x Fem!Reader Headcanons

Characters: La Signora, Il Dottore(separate)

Pairings: La Signora x Fem!Reader, Il Dottore x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Reader breaks down because of anger/anxiety.

Taglist: @stygianoir @kurobakachan @hikomisan @silverwritesthings @minty-stays-tired @genshinparty

If you like what you read, come and check out my Discord!(Currently hosting a giveaway! If you join check out #spooky-kamera-challenge)

Click below for more~

La Signora

Your anger started slow, but as it built up, tears began pricking at your eyes as you attempted to blink them back, "Haa..." you sighed heavily, trying to slow your fast-beating heart. Still, as the slew of emotions began twirling around in your mind, you sank to the ground, weeping silently.

La Signora, who had been sitting at her desk doing her paperwork peeks up; seeing you slouched over her facial expression changes to pure worry as she rushes toward your side, combing her fingers through your long hair.

"Oh, my sweet, whatever is the matter?"

She asks sweetly, still combing out your hair affectionately. Between shaky breaths, you try to compose yourself, wiping your tears away, "I'm just pissed off! And I hate crying...why can't I get angry like normal people?" you ask pitifully, now putting your face in your hands to hide your shame.

"You know, Y/N, what you're going through right now is normal. You're healthily channeling your anger; you should be proud of yourself. Let your anger go; it's okay to cry."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Il Dottore

Being around you often, Dottore knows just what makes you click and what makes you upset. Starting to feel your surge of anger rise, Dottore is quick to jump to your side, rubbing small circles around your back, "Oh my darling Angel, I'm so sorry you're feeling this way..."

"How can I help?"

With Dottore's sweet words, you break down further, sobbing into his chest as he holds you close, "Ugh! I hate feeling like this...just hold me, please?" you manage to say between broken sobs. Sighing affectionately, he pulls you onto his lap, cradling you, "Anything for you, Princess."

As you let your tears flow, Dottore is quiet, rocking you back and forth to quell your anxieties and anger. Finally feeling a bit better you sigh with a shaky breath, looking up at him, your eyes puffy and red.

"Oh my darling...you know I'll always be here for you, through your good days and bad, so it's okay to let all the negativity out. Let them go and feel at ease knowing I'm right here by your side."

[dat-bruv-person]

I'll leve these here 😗🤫🤭

*ೃ༄ how do you show your love?

a/n: so... you can't spell? You simp for one hot woman, and two cuties? Not staying very true to your bio man 🙄

gn!reader, poc!reader friendly I don't even need to explain at this point ♡

Masterlist

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Columbina

She likes to sit in your lap facing towards you, legs wrapped around your waist and nibbles on your ear.

If she's not nibbling in them, then she's singing softly directly down your eardrums.

She's adorable yet evil, but she loves you ❤️

She also enjoys lying down on your lap and nuzzling into your crotch, she finds comfort there-

somehow 🤷🏾

Signora

Signora gives you gentle hugs when she sees you!!

She's actually really caring and sassy, bonus if you also have attitude because you and her can sass anyone together and gossip!!

#couplegoals 😍

She also playfully puts her crown on your head just for laughs

Physical affection just seems to be her thing 😊

Scaramouche

This bitch.

Well actually, he's quite skrunkly if you think about it-

He talks foul about everyone, especially Dottore and Childe, all whilst cradling your arm bashfully.

Leave him alone he's in his feels 😔

Not me though lol 😌 🤪

He's such a grumpy baby, he'll sit cross-legged at your feet and rant about his day whilst holding a pillow to his chest for comfort.

Very ironic since he's the almighty Balladeer 😡😡😡

[deathbysnakes]

How Different Harbingers Sleep

Harbingers x Reader (Romantic (Tartaglia, Pantalone, La Signora, Sandrone, Scaramouche, Arlecchino, Columbina, Il Dottore, Il Capitano, & Pierro) Platonic (Pulcinella))

Warnings:Swearing/ Mentions of alcohol in Pierro's part

Pronouns:He/Him (Male harbingers) She/Her (Female Harbingers) You/Your (Reader)

Fluff/ Crack/ A tiny bit of agnst

Explanation:How the harbingers sleep with and without you. (Minus Pulcinella)

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Tartaglia

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

Always moving but when he falls asleep, he’s in a star fish position. Will either sleep completely naked or with boxers on, and snores, not too loudly though. Has frequent nightmares but doesn’t struggle with falling back asleep after the nightmares, if they don’t involve his family. Has plushies scattered across his bed that frequently fall off of his bed. Uses a thin ass blanket because of his scary resistants to the cold and will sleep with the window open.

Present (Now dating you)

You wake up in the middle of the night to him on top of you, like, suffocating you, but as you date him longer, he eventually stops and gets used to the fact that he now shares a bed with you. Sometimes, when you’re in bed waiting for Tartaglia to come to bed, and he eventually comes to bed, start running towards the bed and jump on you. When he has nightmares about his family, he’ll pretend like it doesn’t bother him if you wake up around the time he has the nightmares, but you can tell he’s not okay, and you usually just have to hold him, and he falls back asleep in your arms.

Panalone

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

Has a skincare routine that he will do before bed, sleeps with those eye masks on, and his sleepwear is a fancy robe. Doesn’t move around much but might move around a little, and sleeps on his side, and doesn’t snore. Everything is silk, the pillow cases, the bed sheets, the blankets, he loves silk. Gets easily cold so he has curtains around his bed to trap the warm air around the bed.

Present (Now dating you)

After a while, will start to cling to you as you both sleep, but it takes a bit of time for him to warm up to the idea of it. Will encourage you to also do skincare with him before going to bed and even insist on doing it for you once you’ve been dating for a while. Likes to talk with you a bit before falling asleep while holding your hand and using his thumb to slowly rub the back of your hand, and WILL give you a goodnight kiss before bed on your forehead.

La Signora

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

Of course, like Pantalone, she has a skincare routine, sleeps with an eye mask, and wears a fancy robe. Her bed is covered with fancy fur blankets and has a shit tone of pillows on her bed, but is really only to make her bed look nice, and will sleep on top of the fur blankets due to how hot she gets at night. Sleeps like a dead person, she never moves and is completely silent when sleeping.

Present (Now dating you)

Like Pantalone, insists on doing your skincare before bed. Sleeps with one arm around you, or at lest holding your hand. Loves playing with your hair while dozing off to sleep, it calming to her. Has a death grip on you through out the night and refuses to let you get out of bed in the morning until she’s fully awake. Is actually a really good at singing and will sing you a lullaby to help you fall asleep if needed.

Sandrone

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

Barely sleeps, but will sometimes sleep. Her bed is STIFF, and she somehow finds it comfortable. Sleeps on her back with her arms at her sides. Has really weird dreams throughout the night that will sometimes inspire her creations. Does a bit of skincare, but not a lot. Wears a white victorian nightgown to bed. Has no trouble getting up in the morning and can somehow run on four hours of sleep with no sugar or caffeine. Never ever moves when sleeping, it’s kinda freaky.

Present (Now dating you)

As soon as you wake up, she’s telling you about the dream she had and will occasionally wake you up in the middle of the night to tell you about her dream. She enjoys it when you lay your head on her chest as you sleep. Wants to wear matching nightgowns with you for some reason, it doesn’t matter your gender, she will somehow convince you to wear matching nightgowns.

Scaramouche

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

He doesn’t really need sleep, but will sometimes take naps. His bed is pretty basic, and he never makes or cleans his bed, but doesn’t really have to, and will sleep with his clothes on. Snores, loud, and he doesn’t know. Will occasionally hug a pillow as he falls asleep. Has occasional nightmares that keep him up, mostly about Dottore and the experiments done on him, but time to time, will have a nightmare about his mother.

Present (Now dating you)

He really just stays up and watches over you as you sleep, and will vent to you while your sleeping or just talk about things he's to shy to talk about when he's awake. Will go stiff if you hug him while you're sleeping, but won't push you away. Might play with your hair as you sleep if you're a heavy sleeper, oh yeah, and he will test how good you sleep by making sounds, stacking stuff on top of you, and so on. Once he's been with you long enough, he'll start to cuddle you as you sleep. Like Tartaglia, Scaramouche will deny having nightmares when you notice something is off about him, but if you wait long enough, he'll start telling you about his nightmares.

Pulcinella

Sleeping habits

Definitely wears those old men pajamas with those wired little hats. Snores a bit, but not too loudly, but does have the grandpa snore. He sleeps with both of his hands over his chest, like he was put in a coffin. Overall, he doesn't really do much when going to bed, but he is a pretty heavy sleeper and can get up pretty easily in the morning.

Arlecchino

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

Has a strict bedtime routine for both her and the children of the house of the hearth. 6:45 pm, bath time, 7 pm, change into sleepwear, and brushing teeth, 7:10 pm, possibly a group bedtime story, 7:30, bedtime, any who disobey these rules will be punished. She wears a pj set to bed and sleeps on her side with her hand under her pillow, unmoving, and completely quiet. Won’t let her children sleep in the same bed as her after a nightmare but will comfort them, occasionally, often just sends the child off to bed, but if the child is close to a teen, will send them off to the teens room it hopes that the teen will comfort the child for her. Gets up easily in the morning and has a strict morning routine too.

Present (Now dating you)

Will try to get you to join in the bedtime and morning routine, but won’t push, will melt if you read the children bedtime stories and praise you on being a great caretaker (or parent). Not very cuddly but will occasionally sleep with one arm around you. Will be a bit annoyed but amused if you let a child who had a nightmare sleep in the same bed as you two, but the child has to be beside you, not in between or beside Arlecchino.

Columbina

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

Doesn't sleep till like, 2:00 at night, and wakes up at 1:00 in the morning. Practices singing before bed and will even volunteer to sing lullabies to the children of the house of the hearth. Does a bit of skin care, but not a lot. Sleeps with a wired sleeping mask, the ones were it makes you look like you sleep with your eyes open. All of her sleep wear are flowy nightgowns, refuses to sleep in anything else for some reason.

Present (Now dating you)

Extremely cuddly, and has a tight grip on you. Insists on singing you a lullaby before bed. Also, tries to get you into the sleep masks that make you look like your eyes are opened. Talks a shit tone before bed, and it's always dumb stuff. "Hey [Name], why are oranges called oranges, but an apple not called a red?" You'll wake up to her grip even tighter around you, lord forbid she puts her arms around your neck...

Il Dottore

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

Doesn't really sleep, only sleeps when he passes out from exhaustion, this is actually the reason for most of his scars. He lokey just wakes up with a broken nose, and has almost lost one of his eyes on mutable occasions. On the rare occasion he does take a nap, won't bother to take his clothes off, will have his shoes on to bed. He has been trying to find a way to not have to sleep. Some of his more bolder and stronger clones have drawn on his face once or twice, none have gotten away with it.

Present (Now dating you)

Actually starts sleeping, but not as soon as you two start dating, it definitely takes time, but eventually starts. He wants to cuddle, but doesn't know how to ask, and is scared of rejection. You'll have to be the one to Initiate, then farther on in the relationship, will just kinda latch onto you as soon as you get in bed. Actually starts undressing when getting into bed, and now only wears his underwear to bed. Will try to get you to do skin care before bed for your health, but won't do any for himself, but it's definitely possible to get him to do skin care with you. If he's out on a mission, all his clones are down to cuddle with you, especially the younger ones between 20-26, or even the little ones (platonically ofc).

Il Capitano

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

Doesn't really sleep too, but sleeps more than Dottore does. Sleeps only in his underwear, and out of habit, will sometimes accidentally sleep with his mask on. Always makes his bed after sleeping, kinda a neat freak. Basically a log when sleeping, never moves, and you can't tell if he's breathing or not. Heavy sleeper, his house could be burning and he wouldn't wake up, but would somehow survive and get up in time for work. Will sometimes mumble in his sleep, and doesn't dream, at all.

Present (Now dating you)

Down to cuddle, but will be fine if you don't want to, it's 50/50 with him, but if you are a cuddler, you will experience some of the best cuddles you've ever felt. Human heater, great for Snezhnaya's cold weather. Mumbles about you in his sleep. Refuses to sleep till you get in bed with him, and will watch your every move and follow you everywhere till you get in bed. Gets kinda clingy in the mornings and will cook you breakfast.

Pierro

Past (Before dating you/ sleeping habits)

Sleeps in a fancy silk robe and snores, LOUDLY. Has a tone of nightmares, resulting in him having to stay awake for a few minutes before feeling comfortable enough to sleep again. When he does wake up from a nightmare, will get out of bed and have a snack or a drink, possibly alcohol (I can totally see him being a foodie) then going out on the balcony to just sit there and eat/drink. He's always still tired when he wakes, no matter how long he sleeps, a morning shower and a cup of coffee always helps him wake up.

Present (Now dating you)

I hope you're not a light sleeper because if you are, you'll be waking up to the sound of his snoring a lot. When he has nightmares, he wants to wake you but feels guilty, but sometimes, if the nightmare is bad enough, he'll wake you. Would love it if you got up with him to sit on the balcony while he or you both eat or drink, you get to sit on his lap. You'll go to sleep on either side of the bed and wake up cuddling, he might not look like it, but likes physical affection a lot, but only from you.

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

[sinsmockingbird]

THE HEIR TO THE TSARITSA | Fatui Ladies

PAIRING: Arlecchino, Columbina, Sandrone, & Signora x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: Fluff, SFW, Smut, NSFW, Dom!Reader, Sub!Character, Punishment (Signora & Columbina), Bondage (Signora & Arlecchino), Vibrator Use (Signora), Squirting (Signora), Voyeurism (Signora), Muzzle Use (Arlecchino), Collaring & Leashing (Arlecchino), Impact Play (Columbina), Spanking (Columbina), Blindfolds (Columbina), Creaming (Columbina & Sandrone), Somnophilia (Sandrone), Fingering (Sandrone), & Grinding (Sandrone)

AUTHORS NOTE: This has been in development for awhile now, but I'm finally pausing and taking time to write it. Decided to cut the Tsaritsa out, though I'll add her in a later thing if I decide to continue this.

✧ LA SIGNORA

↳ SFW

• La Signora was your first official concubine when you were announced as the Tsaritsa's heir; the one who'd take over as the next Cryo Archon.

• She had offered herself to you as, how she put it, a welcoming gift for the next darling Cryo Archon, and you weren't one to refuse such a reverential gift.

• Serving as a Snezhnayan diplomat, offering herself as your concubine was simply a tactful and courteous gesture for her own benefit, because if she were to already be creating a close relationship with you, then that gave her a higher chance to earn herself a high title

• Though that was only at first, as over time her original intentions began to shift, and she wasn't continuing to be your concubine for her own benefit.

• Instead, she continued to do it as to fulfill your own gratification, whether that be physically, mentally or emotionally.

• As your first concubine, it was no shock that Signora would hold a confidence as to being your favorite, and was prone to bragging to the other woman of the fact.

• There were plenty of situations where you had to interfere in between an argument between her and another concubine because of Signora's bragging.

↳ NSFW

• Usually with your interference it was only natural that you'd have to punish Signora for her disobedience of fighting with another concubine.

• These punishments with her would usually lead to her being stripped naked and layed onto your bed, her hands raised above her head and bound to the bed frame.

• With her in such a vulnerable position, Signora would often beg and plead for you to have mercy, that she was sorry for fighting and wouldn't dare do it again.

• But these were only lies, as dear La Signora never stopped her fighting, because she enjoyed being bound and merciless to your touch and punishments.

• Her favorite punishment? Being forced to have to watch you pleasure yourself while a vibrator is stuffed up her cunt, buzzing at the lowest setting.

• The Fair Lady having to suffer through with watching you pleasure yourself while having zero stimulation on herself was torture, but a blissful torture because she was gifted with the pretty sight of you.

• Then when you reach your peak, it's heavenly pleasure for Signora when you finally turn the vibrator to the highest setting and stimulate her clit while it buzzes, because she'll be squirting repeatedly in seconds.

✧ ARLECCHINO

↳ SFW

• Arlecchino, the Knave, a woman of authority and equal grace, a woman many would be shocked to hear had become your second concubine.

• The main reason as to why? Unknowing to you, as the woman has sworn to keep that information to herself, and you've learned not to pry.

• When she joins your harem, Arlecchino basically becomes your bodyguard. She'll glare at anyone who gives you the slightest glance, including her fellow harbingers and concubines.

• She won't tolerate any sort of disrespect targeted towards you, and she won't ever hesitate to rid of anything- or anyone, that dares pose a threat or minor inconvenience for you.

• Despite being a coldhearted woman, Arlecchino is actually surprisingly warm with you when in private, especially after being your concubine for a few months.

• She loves to just lay in your bed with you, having you wrapped up securely in her arms, her blackened hands combing through your hair or drawing soothing circles on your back.

• She especially loves it when you'll sit on her lap when either of you are doing work, resting her head on your shoulder and having one arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you increasingly closer to her.

↳ NSFW

• Now, while Arlecchino has a dominant and authoritative persona in public, when you have her behind closed doors and in the comfort of either of your rooms, she's completely submissive.

• She turns from a scary wolf to an obedient dog, especially when you end up strapping a muzzle onto her.

• She can deny all she wants that she doesn't like being treated like a dog, but the way her eyes fill with lust and how she squeezes her thighs together at the sight of the muzzle, or having a collar around her neck and a leash strapped onto it.

• Her favorite position, even though she won't admit it, is being chained or tied up to something, whether it be the bedframe, to a chair or the wall, with either little or to no clothes on.

• Tugging her forward by the leash and hearing her growl is entertaining for you, because her in this vulnerable position is a rare treat, a treat only for you.

• Playing with her pretty cunt and muttering how much of a good girl she is for you has her whimpering.

• You can't help but think of how lucky you are to have the ever intimidating Knave being a submissive and obedient dog for you, and only you.

✧ COLUMBINA

↳ SFW

• Columbina... to simply put, if you were going to have Arlecchino as one of your concubines, then it was a guarantee that the Damselette was going to become one as well.

• She had approached you with the request to become one when you had come to see one of her shows at the opera; she had been singing a song that night.

• You certainly couldn't refuse the beautiful woman, especially not after hearing her amazing voice, so you of course accepted.

• Columbina will do whatever it takes to keep you entertained. She'll hum to you, sing a song and keep you company. Sometimes she'll even give you a massage if you seem particularly stressed.

• She's the one that's the most doting to you, always by your side and offering to help, giving you a sly smile that you quickly grow to love.

• If neither of you have important matters to attend to, then Columbina will happily drag you out to the opera, so you both can enjoy a performance.

• Another thing she'll do is take you out on midnight strolls, as it gives you both a quiet time together to enjoy the other's company.

↳ NSFW

• Now, Columbina is a wicked woman who enjoy inflicting terror and pain on others, but with you? Oh the Damselette likes to have that inflicted on her, but only by your hands.

• Putting on a blindfold over her eyes and cutting off her sight gets her extremely excited, because the unknown of what you'll do to her in bed is a thrill.

• She enjoys feeling you drag your hands across her body, ghosting your touch over the place she needs you most.

• Then, without warning, whip her harshly across her thighs or stomach, it gets her creaming in her underwear to have you inflicting pain on one of the most fear striking Harbingers.

• Being at your mercy and having you ruin her with striking her with a whip or paddle or anything is a fantasy she didn't realize she had till those moments.

• Also spank her, especially if she's been irritatingly teasing to you as a punishment; even if it is a punishment she enjoys.

• Just make sure to turn the 3rd Harbinger into nothing but your masochistic toy.

✧ SANDRONE

↳ SFW

• Sandrone is interesting... she's quiet, she doesn't participate much in Harbinger affairs, even more so than Arlecchino. The stuff she does and participates in is for her own gratification and gain.

• So when she became one of your concubines, your fourth to be exact, it was safe to assume that she had an ulterior motive. Though that motive wasn't exactly what you'd expect.

• Sandrone wanted to be a concubine simply for more of a chance to spend time with you. She had been obsessed with you for quite some time, specifically with your looks, as she found you to be a perfect doll.

• Usually when she found a new doll for herself, she'd take them without a care or second glance, but you were the Tsaritsa's heir, so she couldn't possibly go along with her usual routine.

• Sandrone loved to dress you up. She was always there to help you pick an outfit for the day, whether it be casual or grand, depending on the event.

• Another thing she enjoyed to do with you was have lunch. She enjoyed having you at her workshop, enjoying tea and pastries, listening to whatever it is you wanted to speak about.

• The Marionette wasn't a talkative woman, but she was a great listener. So you'd usually go to her when you just needed to vent about what was troubling you.

↳ NSFW

• Out of all your concubines, Sandrone was the most needy. She always wanted to have you with her, specifically have your fingers stuffed into her cunt.

• Because of this neediness, she was prone to sneaking into your personal quarters in the middle of the night, crawling into your bed and using you for her personal needs.

• She wasn't afraid to use your own fingers to fuck herself with or grind herself against your thigh while you slept.

• You never complained about this, because you cared deeply for the Marionette and wanted to help her through all of her needs, but sometimes you were just to exhausted, so you told her to use your body however she pleased while you slept.

• There was numerous occasions where you'd wake up to her creaming against your thigh or on your fingers.

• It was always a heavenly sight to see a disheveled Sandrone using you, small cries and whines slipping past her lips.

• You would always move to lay her down on the bed if you woke up, intent to relieve her of her needs however long she wanted. It was only fair that you would for her becoming your concubine.

ENDING NOTE: Feel free to add your own thoughts to this by sending an ask, or even expanding on it. Especially if you have thoughts for the Tsaritsa, would love to have her added.

[theoryofthemultiverse]

How likely the Fatui harbingers are to cuddle you

(as their fellow harbinger)

When you are sick 🛌

An: I am sick so we have to make the best of it :( also included wanderer before his glow up and la signora because I like my harbingers all together, but since I feel like I cannot say anything about Pulcinella, Columbina and Sandrone I left them out, I still hope you’ll like it!

Pierro:

1/10

I feel like he would look at you and tell you to go and rest, but that’s about it. Maybe you get a pat on your head or shoulder in sympathy.

Il Dottore:

3.5-4?/10

When you’re like, nearly dead? and come to him into his lab in the hopes he can give you medicine. He thinks the sight is pathetic :(

Would help you though and tell you to sit down while gets you some poisonous looking medicine (it probably unfairly works tho). But you’re still burning up so you crave a bit more of a hug. It annoys him (but if you persist in staying annoying to him) he might give you a segment of him that you can use as a plushie for your own comfort if not himself.

Arlecchino:

7/10

I mean hello? Father?

This woman would take her time for you. If you tell her you really need someone to cuddle you, she will agree, why not after all?

Only one condition, she might want to do some work in the meantime which could be anything from reading, to writing and commanding fatui agents, as well as her children around.

But if you commit to laying on the couch next to her not bothering her too much, mommy/father is gonna take care of you while laying by the fireplace. :>

Scaramouche:

5/10

Would also be annoyed.

„Why don’t you get lost in your room and rest there? You’re a drag when you’re sick.“ But you don’t want to go to your room you want affection.

So after long minutes of persuading, he might give in, depending on if he likes you or not.

If he gives in and lets you cuddle him, he’s going to make comments about being annoyed, (all while that man‘s got the joker, puppets surely won’t catch a cold) Yet you don’t care and let him talk because you know that behind all the complaints, he likes it a bit.

La signora:

5/10

This one is tricky, I feel like she would be a little like Scaramouche, also saying she doesn’t want to, but should she give in she might find it slightly pleasant and let’s it play a bit into her Ego, other than Scara who would feel it in affection mostly.

Pantalone:

7/10

If you ask him and he is not out for business, I wouldn’t see what keeps him from it. Especially if you’d be at home with him in that luxurious house. He’d at least stay with you until you’re asleep before heading back to his desk to deal with some contracts. Maybe he’ll send someone to fetch him a soup or anything he would know makes you feel better so when you wake up and want to cuddle again, he could also give you something he knows you like to make you feel better.

Tartaglia:

10/10

This man…, you want cuddles, you’re sick? He’s got your back. Just call him up and he’ll try to finish business as fast as possible to come over and help you get better again. Honestly a sweetheart :(

Il Capitano:

2/10

I believe he wouldn’t cuddle you because he is more into battling something somewhere (maybe Natlan). But on the other hand he wouldn’t be too opposed to making you feel a bit better and comforting you so he would ask you if you wanna come along to Natlan and watch him there!

I mean might not be what you asked for but at least it’s gonna be warmer than Snezhnaya. :)

[musings-of-miss-j]

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

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

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

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

series masterlist

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

word count: 4725

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

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

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

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

“Huh. You look very human.”

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

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

“Incredible. Did he give you a name?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

Oh, for the love of-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patronising piece of-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are an incorrigible man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hummed thoughtfully, chewing over his response.

“So you believe you’d win this time?”

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

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

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

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

“Really?! You’ve got to show me.”

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

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

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

“Great idea, let’s try that too!”

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

Wow. Bloodthirsty much?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you can get the bullseye every time?”

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

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

“Where are you going with this, Eleven?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only when it comes to you, he thought wistfully.

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

taglist:

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

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

@luvenus702, @zoriaisasimp, @ra404, @crownohomo

@diamondcookie45

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

[watatsumiis]

MCDONALD'S! MCDONALD'S!

Ok ok hear me out - the characters, with you demanding a happy meal.

Sips out

JKDSHFKJF wait this idea is so funny and silly. I love it.

you didn't specify a character, so Harbinger rambles below the cut!

Arlecchino - Gives you the most incredulous look she can muster. Outwardly, she acts like it’s the most ridiculous request anybody has ever made, and all but turns her nose up at you. Once she realises you’re serious, however, she will begrudgingly pull into the nearest McDonald’s. The stipulation, however, is that she’ll make you order it. If that means having to lean over her in the driver’s seat to do so, so be it.

Capitano - Just wordlessly rolls up and orders you a Happy Meal. He remembers your favourite order and any extras you might like, and always knows which toy to pick for you (this is an AU where the McDonald’s toys aren’t awful). He almost always pays unless you make a point to hand your card to him beforehand and insist that you’re paying. Occasionally, he’ll order himself something small - an apple pie or a bag of those McDonald’s biscuits, as well as a no-sugar soda (he’s a weirdo who likes the tang of artificial sweeteners).

Childe - He’s entirely on board, he’ll do an illegal u-turn to get you to your destination if you so much as say “oh, McDonald’s would be nice right now” as you drive by one. There’s nothing that can stop him. It also helps that he loves the food from there. He’ll order your happy meal, as well as a full family combo for himself. That man can pack food away like nobody’s business. He’d also never say no to you when you’re asking for something so innocuous.

Columbina - Her response is always something along the lines of “oh my gosh, it’s like you read my mind!”. She loves Happy Meals, and collects all the toys (be aware that she’ll bother you into ‘donating’ your toy if it’s one she doesn’t yet have), so she’s always super enthusiastic and will go out of her way to get you your meal. Half the time, it’s probably her suggesting you go get Happy Meals a moment before the words are out of your mouth. She doesn’t even like them that much (she’s partial to the McFlurries), but she likes the toys, and getting to hang out with you, so it’s a win-win!

Dottore - Will launch into a whole big spiel about how unhealthy chain restaurants are, the ethics behind them, what their food is made from, what the meal you’re craving tells him about your current mental and physical state, the whole shebang. He sounds super pretentious, and will continue to be that way until you point out that time you saw him crouched behind the generators in his lab eating a Big Mac he’d reheated using the warmth they give off. That’ll have him shutting up and taking you to the nearest McDonald’s in a heartbeat.

La Signora - She’ll pull into the nearest McDonald’s with no hesitation, roll up to the window, then order herself an iced long black without a semblance of pity towards you. If you complain about it too much, she threatens to leave you on the side of the road somewhere. She will staunchly refuse to buy you a Happy Meal, no matter how much you beg and plead. Though there are rare occasions, when she knows you’ve had a rough day, that she’ll soften a little and get you your meal.

Pantalone - He’ll go into a rant about how fast food isn’t good for you, and how it takes advantage of lower income groups in order to pedal food that he deems to be ‘greasy’ and ‘unhealthy’, and give you this whole snooty lecture about it before insisting on taking you somewhere nicer. Though, he’s not entirely heartless. If he realises you’re just seeking out a familiar comfort food, he’ll begrudgingly take you to get your Happy Meal. Though, if there’s anything at all wrong with the order, he can and will threaten to go marching back in there to scold some minimum-wage employees (in reality, he’s always perfectly polite to them). 

Pierro - He’s not really for the idea at first. Not out of malice or anything, he just dislikes taking detours and being in unfamiliar situations. With some convincing, he’ll eventually fold and take you to get your food. He always yells way too loudly at the machine and grumbles about using the little card-tappy machine. He also has this strange curse where the employees will always give him the wrong toy, and you’ll end up with the one you didn’t want. Even if you try to remedy this by asking for the other one, they happen to get it right that time. It’s rather ridiculous, but also pretty funny.

Pulcinella - He’s super enthusiastic about it and will take you there right away. Despite his somewhat dark and heartless reputation, he’s very sweet to those he likes and adores spoiling them rotten whenever the opportunity presents itself. Every now and then, he’ll order the same thing as you, just to give it a try. If you pay attention, you’ll notice that he keeps the toys and puts them up in his office, like a nice little reminder of the time you two spent together. However, he can and will mispronounce things and the secondhand embarrassment is downright painful. 

Sandrone - She is the embodiment of the memes where a girlfriend says they don’t want any food, then proceeds to steal their partner’s fries. She may buy herself a drink or hotcakes or something when she orders your meal, but she’ll insist that she doesn’t need anything more substantial for herself, but once the food is nearby, she seems to realise that she’s actually quite hungry, and will steal parts of your meal for herself without even looking at you. 

Scaramouche - Turns his nose up at you and scowls, telling you that you can get it yourself, in your own time, and not to bother him with such pesky requests in the future. If you continue to bother him about it, he’ll threaten to kick you out of the car and leave you, but eventually he just crumples, and moans and gripes as he pulls into the drive-thru. He can be pretty snippy with the employees, but you wind up with your food nonetheless. He doesn’t take any special requests though, so you’ll always end up with the basic meal and whatever toy the person who served you tosses your way.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! I do not consent for my works to be translated and posted elsewhere, or used to teach bots!

[celestoria]

He can’t his leave his girl’s feet hurting in her heels, can he? || 600 words

Childe would immediately buy you new shoes. He can’t let you suffer on a nice day, can he? He would take you to the nicest boutique he could find and reassure you it will be alright since the mora will eventually come back to him. Just get something you like and it better be comfy. While you were picking which one to get, he was thinking if you two have more time soon, he’ll take you out shopping and buy you more shoes as long as they follow the same two conditions. His reasoning would be “A warrior can’t have nimble fights if they are feeling sore” though you’re pretty sure that's just his way for you not to reject him. He tells you that if you ever feel bad, just give him a peck on the cheek and he’ll call it even.

Diluc would take off his boots and insist you wear them until you feel better. As much as you were grateful for his kind gesture, you were baffled by it. You know Diluc is a noble and he shouldn’t let himself look like a fool. You were willing to just bear with the pain since you bought and wore those heels for yourself in the first place. However, he argued back that it’s more shameful for him to let a woman be in pain and do nothing about it, especially if it was you. After bickering like an old couple, you accepted his offer and he held onto your heels, not caring if he was walking on the cool stone steps of the city. He’d rather take care of you than let his status get in between you.

Thoma would notice you struggling and constantly ask if you are alright. You keep on telling him that you’ll be fine and that you were used to it with how often you are wearing your heels. Instead of reassuring him that you’re okay, this raised much more concern for him. The moment you finally got back home and readied yourself for bed, he brought out the body oil and massaged you. He can’t imagine how much pain you have been going through today but he hopes this will make you feel better. The smell of lavender and his hands skillfully rubbing your sore feet eased the pain you’d been tolerating the whole day. Your wellness is always Thoma’s top priority and boy, is he great at spoiling you in every way he can.

Ayato would tell you that you’re in no rush and leads you to a milk tea shop you have never tried before. That way you can give yourself a break and as well have a refreshing drink with him. His treat, of course. Oftentimes, Ayato would make you take a sip of his “unique” milk tea order but today he’s making an exception, understanding the last thing you need right now is more trouble. The two of you won’t leave until he is sure you got enough rest. Ayato doesn’t mind if it would take you hours to just sit around and enjoy each other’s company. It’s his favorite thing in the world to just see you enjoy the timid, quiet times with him. For Ayato, it shows that love is all about the little things you share and enjoy in the world.

Itto would make you stop your steps so both of you can switch shoes. Yes, switch shoes. You wear his and he wears yours. You rebutted him by saying your size is far much smaller compared to an oni like him and there is a high chance that the heels would snap which might lead the him to a surprise visit to the hospital. Instead of insisting on his idea, though he knows he would defo rock those few inches if only they would fit him, he simply agreed with you. Still, he can’t let you walk with your feet in such immense pain. Then a light bulb lit up on the top of his head. Itto scooped you up your feet and decided it was best to carry you back home. He wouldn’t listen to you when you said to put him down. Besides he has you in his arms and that’s all that matters to him.

[themissinghand]

Genshin Impact: Queen's Guard Dog [2]

Part 1!

Summary: In which you are Tsaritsa’s closest retainer and servant, the one who is at the Queen’s beck and call.

You are Brighella, the Queen’s Guard Dog.

Or, the Harbingers treat you a bit differently, and you take advantage of that.

Pairing: La Signora, Scaramouche, Sandrone, Pierro, Tsaritsa x GN! Reader

Note: Part 2 and final part of this series, I won’t do other Harbingers since I don’t really know how to write them. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2 is slightly darker than part 1 in terms of themes, but nothing too serious.

Warning: Mentions of violence and toxic behaviors.

★・・・・・・★

To Signora, you are a sharp sword, a trusted ally on missions in service to Her Majesty Tsaritsa.

You've pledged your loyalty to the Tsaritsa, and with your streak of successful missions, there is no one to doubt your abilities.

Sometimes, there's a hint of playful teasing in your voice when you approach Signora, where you jest about treating her as you would to Her Majesty.

“My lady.”

When you bow before her presence, or when you knelt before her very feet, the power she feels is tantalizing, but who is she to deny?

Your offer, dangerous yet tempting, is nothing but a little gambit. It's clear that your loyalty runs deep, even if it means taking drastic actions to please Her Majesty.

Signora have heard the times where you were much violent and malicious, but even now the shadow of your past still lingers.

On her first and only mission with you, it was a moonless night.

You and Signora embarked on a covert mission together, cloaked in shadows and secrecy. Your destination was a den of conspirators who dared to defy Her Majesty Tsaritsa’s rule.

As you infiltrated their hideout, your sharp senses and honed skills ensured that you moved with deadly precision.

In the midst of this operation, Signora observed your ruthlessness firsthand.

“Why hello there.”

A snap, followed by screams.

Those who disobeyed Her Majesty's orders were met with swift and uncompromising justice. Your actions were as cold as the steel of your blade, leaving no room for mercy when it came to protecting the interests of the Crown.

Signora, who had witnessed countless battles and covert operations, couldn't help but be both impressed and slightly unnerved by your unwavering dedication. She saw the depths of your loyalty, the lengths to which you would go to safeguard Her Majesty's reign.

As you and Signora emerged from the shadows, victorious in your mission, there was a palpable tension in the air.

You had a gentle smile on your face, as if you were on a leisurely walk. There were no stains of red on you, maintaining your professionalism and elegance.

“Dear Lady, I hope I haven’t disgusted you with my actions.” You pull out a handkerchief and gently wiped the blood by her lips.

You leaned close until Signora pushed you aside while rolling her eyes.

But you were unfazed by Signora’s action, for you think they are cute and quite adorable.

Like a cat who likes to scratch.

A successful mission as always, and just like usual, you fade away in the shadows to be by Her Majesty’s side.

Signora couldn't help but ponder the dangerous duality of your character—a loyal and deadly weapon in service to Her Majesty Tsaritsa.

How frightening it would be if you were a double-edged sword.

To Scaramouche, you are a mask.

A mask that hides your true self.

A mask that you can put on others.

You play a unique role in his life, akin to that of a father figure.

You take care of him exceptionally well, providing support and guidance when needed. From the moment he joined, you were an inspiration, a listener, and a trainer.

Yet, Scaramouche knows your care is driven by pity. After all, he has told you many things (even when you told him nothing).

So what?

“My dear Balladeer.”

When he calls for you, you answer.

The Balladeer wears this knowledge with a smug demeanor, as if your special attention validates his worth.

“I would never betray you.”

The little head pats and the little nods. The cheeky little smile and the gifts he received.

“Happy birthday my little Balladeer.”

“Let this day be your birthday.”

With your special attention, it felt like a drug, something to keep him content in this dirty world.

You possess the remarkable ability to shapeshift into the very people he's encountered in his life, indulging in his elaborate fantasies.

“I’ll kill you!” Scaramouche cackled as tears flowed down his face, as a sword plunge deep into the Lord of Electro, Bal’s chest.

Blood spilled, but his laughter subsided.

Seeing Bal’s dead body brought so much pain but so much relief.

You brought him close to you in an intimate hug.

“Good job, my little Balladeer.”

Together, you both create a fake reality, one that you both know is built on falsehoods and pretense. It's a charade that you willingly participate in, if only for a fleeting moment.

A mask is easily put on, as it is easily taken off, you play this game of pull and push well.

But Scaramouche doesn’t mind, for he is too far in with this drug of yours.

But an illusion will forever be fake, and just like this relationship, it will never be real.

To Sandrone, you are a rose.

Something so beautiful yet deadly.

As the annual tradition went, Brighella entered Sandrone’s sanctuary of automatons, a place where gears and mechanisms whirred harmoniously, creating a symphony of mechanical marvels.

“My dear Sandrone. It’s that time of year again.”

“Brighella.”

Sandrone greeted you with a gleam of excitement in her eyes, for she had a unique fascination with you.

"I’ve been waiting for you," Sandrone smiled, her gaze locked onto you.

"You never change. I wish my automatons could be as pretty as you."

Her words were flattering, and as you stood there, she couldn't resist the urge to touch your face and body.

“You say that every time.” You responded and leaned forward to indulge her.

Her fingers moved with a delicate curiosity, as if seeking to understand the secrets of your agelessness.

From your eyes, to your nose and lips, she gently traced them with her hand.

With a sly smile, you decided to play along.

You took a delicate necklace from your pocket, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you carefully tied it around Sandrone’s neck. As your fingers brushed against her skin, you leaned in closer, your lips almost touching her ear.

"Shall we take this elsewhere?" You whispered, your voice carrying a hint of playful suggestion.

Sandrone’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and anticipation dancing within her.

But how could she dare covet something that belongs to the Crown?

“Your Highness, I wouldn’t dare.” She says, though her hands drop to your neck, slowly tracing your collarbone as if she was a sly snake.

“A shame.”

You pull back with a cat-like smile, and she showed a face of frustration for a moment before dissipating.

“Now, shall we get to work?” You extend a hand, and she accepts it greedily.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

If only you could be her marionette, how nice would it be?

To Pierro, you are a candle.

“Do you seek revenge?”

A light burning so bright in his life.

Khaenri'ah.

Pierro remembers Brighella as a mysterious figure, yet a figure of power and privilege.

The Immortal, is what people called (worshipped) you as, and Pierro never understood why.

Until he saw the Immortal go against the Gods.

An indescribable, impossible scene of the battle of immortals.

But you fell from grace, as if the heavens were not by your side.

That was the last he saw you.

His light flickered and died.

At least that was what he thought.

In those tumultuous days, where he thought it was the end, you extended a hand to him, a hand filled with promise and a hint of mischief.

“The Immortal? But you perished?!”

With a wave of your hand in front of your face, you changed your appearance from a fallen warrior to a clean butler’s appearance.

“‘I’ have perished. But who says ‘I’ cannot be reborn?”

Brighella smiled, a smile that held secrets and intentions known to no one.

“My name is Brighella, won’t you come with me and defy fate?”

It was an offer of partnership, an invitation for Pierro to seek revenge together.

Who was he to deny?

Pierro, brave and determined, took that hand without hesitation. Pierro had never regretted that decision.

You two had a transactional relationship, a give and take as you will.

It may seem distant, but to the both of you, it was enough to get work done.

Time connects the two of you like a thread, and even if Pierro wishes to, he couldn’t stay away from you.

Because he was like a moth to a flame.

You who shined so brightly, and him who would protect your light. Taking on your tasks in secret and ensuring you have the best of everything.

Over the years, your paths diverged, and Pierro went through profound changes. Life molded Pierro into someone unrecognizable from the man Pierro once was.

Yet, you remained unchanged. Time seemed to have no hold over you.

You was the constant in Pierro's ever-evolving world, a mysterious figure who transcended the years.

Perhaps that was your role, to be the remnant of the past.

A reminder of their purpose and their reason.

And Pierro didn’t want that to change. Ever.

To Tsaritsa, you were like a mirror.

A mirror that revealed who she truly was beneath the crown and the title.

One who had traversed the world and learned of the dirty secrets just as she did.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?”

Tsaritsa saw not just followers but molds, reflections of a world that had shaped her reign.

Tsaritsa sat on top of her throne with elegance, her expression as cold as ice.

“Brighella, report to me on the Harbingers.”

You smile, one of professionalism and acknowledgement.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Out of all of her subordinates, you who have stayed by her side since eternity, are the only one she ‘trusts’ the most.

You were her shadow, her sword, her ever-vigilant guard dog, and no one else could lay claim to what was rightfully hers.

Not even the other Archons could dare to lay your hands on you.

“Your Majesty, may I?”

Tsaritsa returned a nod, and you quickly ascended the steps to her stone and knelt by her feet.

You glanced up, admiring the cold beauty of your master before lowering your eyes to her feet.

Tsaritsa never understood why, perhaps it was your shrewd nature or your hidden desire. Or was it your pursuit for power?

Even now, she could not fully comprehend your heart.

However, she has your loyalty.

Your loyalty was a pledge sealed with unwavering dedication. That was all Tsaritsa required of you.

A gesture that transcended words, you kissed her feet as a symbol of your eternal bond, a testament to the power of their connection in a world where power was everything.

“Your Majesty, I am your guard dog. Use me as you see fit.”

You smiled so brightly, only with her, as she is the only one that can understand you.

“I’ll bring the world down to your feet.”

[kurogane2512]

Genshin women 'assisting' you during NNN

Type: Suggestive fluff (no sex, just flirting and teasing with implied sexual activity)

Can imagine any reader

Will make you lose intentionally within 3 days at max

She really said she will cooperate and support you, she really said she will be kind to you and keep her distance. But she just can't help teasing you to see your cute and flustered reactions, how you bashfully scold her for tempting you time and time again. She playfully presses her boobs into you and grinds into your thighs when you stand around her.

She will whisper in a seductive tone all sorts of things she will do once the month is over. How does she expect you to hold on after all this? No wonder you pounced on her the next time she did her usual antics, that's when you find out she was doing it intentionally simply to tease you. There's no way she could hold back herself but she didn't want to be the one to give in first so she made you do it~

LISA MINCI, YAE MIKO

Will make you lose unintentionally within a week or two

She is genuinely serious about it and promises to support you, she actually finds the whole situation quite amusing and wants to see how you do. She keeps a very reasonable distance throughout and doesn't try to work you up in any way, even her usual teasing has significantly reduced. In truth, you didn't expect her to take it so seriously. And perhaps you didn't want her to.

Now her simplest actions make you desperate. Be it a simple hug, pecks on cheek and just cuddling at night- you want more, you want to do so much more. You thought she would end up whining and complaining soon but it seems you are the one who will do that. You can't stand it anymore. She has such an effect on you; truly, how can you resist her body for so long. She is so amused by your complaining and pleading, she teases you so much about how needy you are for her but in reality, she feels so loved and will happily take care of you~

LA SIGNORA

Similarly, this woman is oblivious to her doings. Everything was going so well, both of you were doing so good. She doesn't really understand the whole concept of NNN, she finds it unhealthy that people would torture themselves this way. But of course, she promises to support you in this. She is not needy for you, she is doing rather well and spends time in other things.

But again, she doesn't realize the effect she has on you. She wanted you to be cared for so she asks what you would like to do after this is over, she suggests all kinds of dates and things to do during sex all with a straight and innocent face. And then there's the accidental touching like breast contact and rubbing.... none of this helps your case and you end up giving in. In truth, a sneaky fox had suggested her to ask you all this under the guise of care....

RAIDEN EI

Lets you last halfway then 'accidentally' tempts you

Another woman who finds the challenge amusing and promises to cooperate seriously. In addition, she herself joins in to support you and do this together. She was confident both of you will win if you do it together, and she was confident in her own ability to hold back even if you can't. She is a busy woman, she'd likely end up swarmed by work that she can barely think of sex and you aren't around to help her destress.

That's how you both last till the middle of the month at least but now it's becoming rather difficult. You catch each other staring longingly at each other, clear expression of desperation on your faces but you pretend to see nothing. Until one day, you catch her in a rather.... unexpected state. There she was touching herself in her room/office, sighing your name as her fingers plunged deep. You watched her from the door, feeling heat pool between your own thighs. You would have called her out for cheating but you are too pent-up as well.... you'd much rather go in and help her~

NINGGUANG

Will complete all the way through with no problems at all

You should have expected it to turn out this way, why did you even suggest to do this with her. She was a busy woman who rarely had sexual needs, she could easily put away her desires for the greater good and in service of her people. You accomplished nothing by doing this except torturing yourself not only for entire November but even few days into December.

You don't see her come home for days and when she does come home, she's too tired to do much so it automatically makes you suppress the need as you just want to love and care for her tired self. Honestly, she may even forget you were doing the challenge because she can't even keep track of the time. When she finally gets a reasonable vacation period, it's already December and you are dripping in desperation....

JEAN GUNNHILDR

A/n: If you guys have ideas for other characters then feel free to suggest and I'll make a pt 2!

[mywifealhaitham]

warmth in the harshest winters

-- fatui harbinger fluff drabbles !!

all romantic besides Pierro and Pulcinella

⚠: just fluff, slight mention of injury in some parts, firm believer in disabled sandrone, Capitano is very soft and squishy, scaramouche is wanderer, not proofread I'm sleepy

A/N: every fic I see with the harbingers are always more dark and borderline toxic so I wanted to make them all soft and fluffy :3

PIERRO doesn't know what to do with you sometimes. He's been alive for so long yet he can barely show affection to one he feels connected too. So he takes to the streets observing families all across snezhnaya. He sees fathers decorating their daughters in jewels calling them more beautiful than the gods and mothers teaching their sons how to cook for their future beloveds. Even though the old man has you, he still gets a wave of loneliness whenever he sees real families talk and live life together. However when he himself gifts you fine jewelry and teaches you ancient meals long forgotten by time the loneliness is his heart subdues and just for a moment, he has a family once again.

like DOTTORE himself, his segments share a great love for you and often pamper and coddle you when you're in their vicinity. Younger segments of himself often have heart eyes when they look at you, like how a schoolboy admires their teachers. You always pat their heads and tell them that technically when their older they can call you their own. His older segments often like to have more fun with you. Sometimes they'll sandwich you and poke you all already or they'll pull you in the lab to watch experiments they have conducted, waiting for your praise. Sometimes they get jealous of eachother and often that manifests into insecurities. So you reassure them that you'll love them all equally and you'll support them as long as you live.

COLUMBINA dotes on you almost all the time, you're practically her little doll. With your permission she takes you everywhere, walks through the city's most beautiful hidden spots were she has you rest on her lap while she sings songs proclaiming the love you too share, missions were she protects you with her life like a true knight in shining armor with you as her royalty, banquets that the fatui hold were she dresses you two up in matching outfits and walk into the ballroom arm-in-arm as everyone stares in awe, but her all time favorite place to take you is in her arms. As ethereal as some see her, her feelings are entirely human. The softness you provide fuels her fire, it gives her a reason to keep fighting if all her wings are clipped and she's left to die. Often times she'll hold you, almost making time stop and all you can hear is her heartbeat and a tune she hums as you drift off into a restful slumber.

though some may see him as a strong yet evil leader PULCINELLA treats you and a few others he sees as children very nicely. He holds great pride in the title grandpa you've given him, often time joking about how you'll need to be careful not to hurt his hold heart and soul. Whenever you visit him his face lights up patting the nearest seat, an invitation to get lost in stories with him. He'll offer you sweets he picked up that he knows you'll enjoy. As you snack happily he tells you stories of all different genres, ranging from snezhnian myths about creatures lurking in the night to foolish and silly things his fellow harbingers have done. Sometimes if you ask nicely he'll share stories about himself and how he came to be, leaving out more gruesome parts only leaving you with stories of a strong and determined man. If fate would allow it, he'd sit with you in these armchairs telling endless stories with you forever.

even before SCARAMOUCHE abandoned his title as balladeer and erasing himself from this world he vowed to keep you with him, you are his heart along with the electro gnosis. Before becoming the wanderer he is today, he asked Nahida if there's a way to keep you in his memories, if you can know him as both scaramouche and wanderer. Her response was simply no but the solution was simple, make you fall in love all over again. Even when Wanderer regained his memories he was puzzled on courting you. He used all the same methods as the balladeer and yet you would not fall as easily. Until one night you broke down hugging him, recently your heart felt like something was teared out and he replaced it. With a gentle smile he embraced you back, promising to repair the seemly ghosting feeling in your heart. Though in his mind he promised to love you more than the balladeer could ever give.

though most of her comrades were robots, screws and tools SANDRONE always knew how to be human around you. Due to locking herself away in metal and confinement she lost most of the skill you need to be human, accidentally crafting herself to be a robot. However you are her heart that beats reminding herself that she is flesh and bones and not bolts and steel. Being unable to walk on her own she relies on you to be her guiding feet to humanity. She's blunt but not by choice, she'll demand you too wheel her into the garden were she'll then demand you again to explain the life of plants and flowers. Her demands aren't terrifying like how she commands her subordinates but more light and flustered. As you explain how plants breath the air, drink water from their roots and bask in the sunlight she's silent. She's completely lost in your voice. She applies all the information that you told her into you. you are her air that she breaths, you are the water that brings her to life and finally you are her sun that melts away the metal of her skin, leaving her with flesh and bones, leaving her to be a human again.

people all across snezhnaya envy the fair lady's beauty, singing praises about her skin, her hair and her eyes. As much as she prides herself the only person to ever top SIGNORA'S beauty is you. Sometimes she'll place you on her lap as she brushes your hair and powders your face. The only words to come out of her mouth are endless waterfalls of praises. The gods themselves took the finest jewels teyvat has to offer and crafted them into your eyes she sings kissing your cheek while she pins up your hair. Every single silk flower in teyvat is jealous of how soft and clear you're skin is she sighs her hand trailing up from the tip of your fingers to your jawline as her other hand applies powder to your face, making it shine more than before. She scoots you off her lap, making you sit in the chair she occupied before you as she pulls out two shining outfits of your favorite colors. They look like something celestial being would wear, as you pick the one you like the best she beams. Perfect, she sings, tonight both of us will shine like stars, maybe even the gods will notice us hand in hand and imprint our love onto the night sky she winks and kisses your cheek. Tonight at the banquet your love will rival the sun and the moon.

Even though he is the richest of them all and believes money can define the world itself PANTALONE believes that 100% of your happiness cant be bought with mora alone. He believes in equality and that belief spreads onto you. Don't get me wrong he spends ungodly amounts of mora on you already, buying you the best meals any chef on teyvat can make, renting out museums and aquariums just so you can him can waltz in front of statues of the gods or the most gorgeous looking sea life. He buys you jewels and gems that shine so brightly that it blinds everyone around, but to him the thing that truly blinds everyone is money. So he makes sure that the greed he can give you doesn't taint you or corrupt your mind, making you believe that he's only bribing you to stay with him. The way he compels these thoughts is with his undying love to you. Most of his work is filing documents requesting funds so he always allows you to enter his space and exist along with him. Though he still needs to do his work he'll take breaks and play a few round of card games with you, or perhaps read a book together and discuss it but his favorite break time activity is when you two simply lay together on the couch he commissioned for times you wish to nap while he works. The combined comfort of the luxury couch and the warmth and weight of you on top of his person is something money can never buy, it's something he earned alone with no funds required.

TARTAGLIA is a child(e)ish man at heart and that applies for when you're around too. He'll hide behind the wall and as you walk by he'll shout boo as you clutch your chest and fall to the ground. Realizing the situation you both laugh as he outstretched his hand for you to get off the ground. In the early mornings he'll tickle you awake, he enjoys the feeling of you swatting him away and how your body vibrates when you burst out into giggles against him. He also loves when you play with his siblings, fully immersed in the action game his siblings have dragged you both into. As much as he says he's focused his real attention is on you and how your eyes sparkle when you get playfully shot at with a stick gun. Even though he is as playful as a fox there are times when he matures and is more romantic with you. He'll prepare candle-lit dinners with the best home made snezhnaya specialties. He'll warm you too a bath with rose petals and the best oils imported from all across the globe so you too can relax into eachother. Whenever you're sad he will be there, when your happy he will laugh with you, when your angry he will calm you down. As long as the sun still shines he will remain by your side, he is forever your loyal loving knight Ajax.

whenever they hear CAPITANO'S name one often thinks of a brutal man with a army that shadows a nation but what you hear is much more different. the Capitano you know is a gentle giant who during midnight walks will pick the most beautiful rose in the bush, carefully remove all it's thorns and gently placing it behind your ear. The Capitano you also know clasps one of your hands in excitement when the stray cat he was petting starts purring and nuzzling into the cool armor of his hand. Capitano is totally at your mercy, he's completely wrapped around your finger. He talks about you nonstop to the fatui soldiers around him, at first they hold great respect for you because you are Capitanos partner but overtime they respect you for yourself. You bring in blankets and pillows on cold nights to them, wrapped them and yourself up around a small campfire as you tell them stories of happy times. If you have the skill you even train with them, praising them on their blade work. This never goes unnoticed by Capitano who when he finally has you too himself engulfs you in a huge hug, telling you how proud he is of you and all the work you do to help the fatui. He and some of the fatui members you have helped call you a angel, a rare kind soul in the harshest of winters.

though her loyalty to the Tsaritsa is questionable ARLECCHINO love for you is not. People say she is crazy, not one part of her is sane but when she's with you all humanity she's lost throughout her life comes back into her. She's slightly possessive over you, asking to take you along for missions. During said missions she always makes sure you don't get a single scratch on your perfect body. She also likes to impress you during these times, sometimes she'll fight five strong enemies at once just enough so you'll be at the edge of your seat. When she swiftly and elegantly kills them all she'll kneel before you and kiss your hand, looking at you with loyalty and determination in her eyes. When you come on missions with her she only brings her most trusted fatui soliders with her, often times these soldiers are the ones she has personally raised at the house of the hearth. These fatui soldiers know better than to hurt you or get too comfortable with you so they simply let you be, protectively watching you from beyond. If by any chance some force breaks through the defense of well trained soldiers or Arlecchino herself and mange to her you she is deeply concerned. She'll drag you to her private tent and gently patch your wounds. after she'll cup your face in her hands and kiss away any tears that may have fallen during the process, promising you that she will shield you from any bad in this world even if that meant death to herself.

[totallynotcoffeeturtle]

Genshin Masterlist

Any character with a good number of works will get their own masterlist!

Scaramouche masterlist

In all works I write, unless stated otherwise, the reader is gender neutral.

Fluff - Suitable for all ages Not (as) safe for work - Suggestive or dark(er) content Content warning(s) - Will be included where necessary!

Hcs:

♡ 1940s Gal Pal Experience with Arlecchino! (Arlecchino x reader) Life with your horrible husband isn't so bad with Arle on your side~ (fem!reader, infidelity)

Drabbles:

♡ Palm Kisses and Plum Wine (Heizou x reader) Who knew Heizou would be even more dangerous for your heart when drunk?

Fics: (On AO3 only)

♡ Ex-Archon Gets Stabbed And He Doesn't Mind?!?!?!?! (real not clickbait) (Zhongli x reader) The title kinda says it all already... (DEAD DOVE, CANNIBALISM, BLOOD AND GORE PLS READ THE WARNINGS)

♡ The Sweetest of Flowers Dedicated To You (Sucrose x reader) Where you revive an ancient breed of sweet flower for your crush

♡ The Story of How One (1) Chapstick Almost Flattened Mondstadt City (Sucrose x reader) You commit some tomfoolery and what happens next happened.

♡ The Forbidden Taste of Love (And Desire) (Signora x reader) Sometimes you wonder if it's right for you to be with The Fair Lady. (fem!reader, suggestive)

♡ If You Smell Something Burning It's My Heart (Neck) (Signora x reader) Your lovely girlfriend decides to squeeze your neck one sunny day (strangulation, burns, fem!reader)

[bahbzxxx]

Sick! Venti X Traveler!Reader (SFW)

(In which his sickness was caused by getting his gnosis taken cause Huh sis that hurt even watching. But HAH he’s getting ✨better✨ while S*gnora is a pile of ashes lolsies)

There’s only one set of eyes on your mind as you race through the serenitea pot that’s much too big for your liking. If you were focused on your environment, Everything everywhere would make you want to explode into a pile of stardust here and now. Only the thought of not finding him would make you want to do that.

You approach the guestroom. Venti has been staying with you for a little while, recuperating. He will do it once in a while… when he needs a place to hide because the sickness is too hard to cope with alone. Sometimes, his stays are very long…and they seem to get a little longer, every time. He insists that it’s because he enjoys being with you, and he’s really recovering, but by not. But you know He will never feel the same… since…

No…NO.

You push the ice from your mind and how it still feels like frost blooms along your skin, only to penetrate it. It’s sharp.

You can only imagine how sharp it was for him…

With you just…there…doing nothing…

You knock on the side of the door, which is slightly ajar.

You hear a gentle hum, as well as footsteps and slight floorboard creaks from an owner too beautiful and divine for any land in the sea of stars you crossed.

Venti’s viridescent gaze envelops you in a fuzzy warm cloud as he opens the door. He is sleepily rubbing his eyes with his eyebrows furrowed. His expression softens as he sees you…and he takes both your hands in his, and he takes you inside. He can sense your despair…so he closes the door behind him with a gentle pat.

You see that he has no corset on and wears flowy pants that are a touch wrinkled. There are light sleep lines on his face and peaking out of his sleeves…the tell tale signs that he had just been in a deep nap.

“Hmm… you’re done early today…hmm…got any stories for me?”

His voice is so husky…and you can hear his exhaustion.

He holds his hands out to you with a soft smile, sensing you could really use an ear.

The hug you give the archon is almost enough to crush his own lungs.

“Hmph~ oof!”

his unbuttoned shirt is now covered in your tears as you cry into his chest, squeezing into his soft waist as if it is your life-line.

“Mmmm? Mmm…”

His heart breaks when he realizes you’re crying. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing deep circles in your back and nuzzling the top of your head.

He lets out a large sigh, and it feels as if his body is deflating like an anemo slime.

“Windblume…oh, my sweet little Windblume…” he whispers softly into your hair, leaving kisses in between.

He knows why you’re being like this…and truly, he does understand, as much as he’d prefer if you weren’t worrying so much.

“I know. I know…but I’m okay. She’s all gone…shes not gonna hurt us anymore…she’s not gonna hurt you, hurt…hurt me…”

He feels you squeeze him tighter, and he hears your little hiccups. You’re crying harder now…

“Windblume… I’m fine…I’ll be fine…I’m recovering, mein liebling, I promise you…bit by bit…”

He keeps rubbing your back, taking deep, steady breaths. He continues whispering sweet comforts as he holds you for a while, rocking you back and forth as he leans his body against the wall.

After a while of standing, Venti feels a bit weak…he may have recovered a lot, but he still needs a bit more time.

“Come with me, love…”

Gently, he leads you to the fluffy chair he begged you for a while ago from the Cats Tail in the corner. He plops down with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and leaning back.

“Ahhh…”

…

The bard opens his eyes, a bit upset that you haven’t joined him yet. He finds you standing there hesitantly, shyly watching over him while your eyes still sparkle with tears.

“Liebling…” He beckons, chuckling to lighten both your moods a little.

He reaches for your arm, and gently pulls you into his lap. He feels your hesitation, knowing that you’re scared even sitting in his lap could make things worse for him. He reassures you that this is oh so far from the truth.

“Uh-uh, no no no…I want you here with me…It’s okay…you make me feel better…”

He takes you in his arms once more, making sure you’re cozy in his lap.

“There we go…all comfy and cozy.”

He kisses your cheeks and your eyelids, as if he’s kissing your tears away.

You can tell he’s still lethargic based on the weight of his kisses…

“Now it’s my turn to suffocate you, hehe…”

He squeezes you to him, letting your head rest on his heart. It beats so steadily and slowly, like a gentle bass drum.

You sit like this for a while, You staring up at him, his chest he offers as your pillow as he takes his time kissing all over your face.

Naturally, despite all the worry you had, and still have, his viridescent gaze is so calming and soothing that you feel yourself growing sleepier and sleepier, much to his satisfaction. But…he sees that you’re still trying to fight it off, even when you’re safe in his arms and you can sleep. All this worrying about him… it made him sad, knowing that you probably were getting much less sleep than he was…

“My little warrior…you’ve been so worried about me…you’ve been so exhausted…you don’t need to hide that from me…” He sighs, moving the hair out of your face that just keeps coming back and hiding your precious eyes from him.

“…you know…I’m not quite used to someone being so concerned for my well-being…you remember that?”

You nod, and he purses his lips.

“I-I know…I know I worry you…” he continues softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“And as much as I want to give you a little bop on the head and tell you to stop that…”

He gives you a bop on the nose, hoping he can get you to giggle for him. Maybe just a crack of a smile even.

“That means…I’d have to stop getting worried with your adventures…I-I know, my Windblume…it may seem like you’ve seen just about everything…can do anything…but there’s always a part of me that’s just terrified…so scared you won’t come back to me…”

He tips your chin back up to him.

“But…you always manage to find a way back… Back to me…don’t you?” He smiles, bringing his nose closer to yours.

“I’ll even bet that you could be cursed by an evil sorceress on your travels, doomed to be an insect forever…”

Your eyes widen. You’d seen much worse, but nobody had done that…

“But…then I’d find a certain pretty little butterfly on my nose as I wake up from an afternoon nap…somehow, somewhere…”

You raise an eyebrow. You suppose you’re the pretty little butterfly in question…

He chuckles deeply, his chest vibrating against you.

“In other words…no matter how much I worry about you…somehow, even if it’s through a single thread of hope…I know that you’ll end up okay…right? Somehow…I really don’t know yet. You still truly amaze me…”

You giggle at the expression on his face.

“And…do I amaze you?”

You nod, a cute little blush on your face.

“Hmm…ok, then…let me amaze you with how, no matter how much you keep worrying about little old me…I’ll always be with you…and I’ll always find my way back to you…even if it’s just a tiny gust of wind…know that it’s me…do you understand, Liebling?”

You just smile, imagining to yourself how that would work. The bard takes that as a yes.

“Besides…you and I both know I’ve seen the rear end of much worse than this…and maybe…just maybe…I’m a little stronger than I’m given credit for…”

There’s a bit of bitterness tinged in his soft expression and tone…but it’s definitely not directed at you. That person is a pile of ashes now.

“Hmm.” He clears his throat. “So…”

He leans in to whisper into your ear. His tone lowers at least an octave.

“Trust me.”

It’s not a question. It’s not a request.

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes enveloping yours. Your lips are almost touching, and you feel his breath on yours.

“Trust. Me…”

He closes the fragment of space between your lips. It starts out soft and sweet, but his kiss becomes heavier as he puts one arm around the small of your waist to keep your fellow sleepy self from slipping, and the other on your cheek.

He keeps kissing you, breathing the same mantra into you every time your lips part- “Trust me.”

You slip your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

“I love you…I love you so much, mein liebling…I love you in a way that even a poet as myself couldn’t describe without making an utter fool of himself…”

His cheeks, already rosy, grow redder and redder and hotter everytime your lips touch and twist. You get so lost in this lush little wonderland that you feel you’re going to fall, even in his hold. The sensation startles you, and you panic. You gasp, clinging onto the fabric of his shirt. He lets out a whimpery and whiny groan.

“Oh…perhaps this isn’t quite the best idea, is it?”

He sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face.

You nod bashfully, an apology forming on your tongue. You slowly begin sliding off his lap, but his grip on your waist tightens.

“I had wanted to try and get out of bed today…maybe be useful and show you some of the poetry I had penned…but maybe…just maybe…”

There’s a gleam in his eye. It’s that gleam.

“Hmm…yep. Not today. Back to bed!”

You find yourself slung over his shoulder as he makes way back to the bed. Before you can scold him for obvious reasons, he’s already tossed you onto the bed, and the mattress is springing underneath his weight as he climbs onto the bed himself, looming on top of you.

He laughs as he ensnares you underneath him, your arms crossed and shaking your head. Your face is priceless, and he’s sure the winds of the far flung past, present, and future will never, ever forget it.

He feels a bit dizzy now…to not even his own surprise, so he flops down beside you, making the mattress bounce even more.

“Ahhh…that’s more like it…”

He weaves an arm under your body and around you to pull you closer to him.

“Now…where were we…oh, yes…”

You lean in for another kiss. You’re left hanging for a bit, and you can hear the smirk he’s wearing.

You open your eyes with a pout.

“Oh…don’t be like that…besides…aren’t we forgetting something? Hmm?”

He brings his braid to your face and brushes it against your cheeks and makes it do a little dance on your nose. He bops you on the nose once he’s done with the little dance.

Of course you have to undo his braids. Of course you do.

“There’s my Windblume…”

(is that angsty enough)

[eluxcastar]

Fatui Harbingers with a child they don't own

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: a child that doesn't seem to belong to any one of them is known to wander around headquarters, though it's not exactly clear whose it is or how it even got there. well, it's cute enough, isn't it?

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, child endangerment 💀, scaramouche is soft because baby, pantalone is trying to teach a kid stocks, pulcinella is such a grandpa

୨୧﹑words :: 2k

this was a little thought that came to mind, mostly because of the fact I was like "Capitano forced to carry around some lil baby would be cute" and I'm fuckin speed running writing this before sports tryouts I've got less than one hour 😭

nvm I didn't finish in time and it got cancelled anyway so we can work slowly now (I didn't even finish this until the next day anyway LMAO) the mild implication each of them handles the same child on different days and this kid is just experiencing all of these things is funny to me for no reason

you have a horrible habit of wandering off while waiting for your parent, somehow managing to find yourself in the stranger possible places. how you end up there, nobody who has to look for you ever really knows, but you usually end up finding at least one person who will—if nothing else—tolerate you.

the youngest of the Harbingers is the easiest to survive and get along with. Childe likes you, and knows how to keep you entertained while he somewhat awkwardly waits to see if anyone will arrive to look for you. admittedly, he likes it whenever you pop up, finding you a good little distraction, and you think his bow is cool to watch when he uses it. you think it's just the fact that he's so good with it that makes it so interesting, and he's very supportive when you tell him all of the stuff you don't get to tell anyone. it's not that Childe is constantly waiting to feed his interest nor does he always care a lot but he certainly makes it sounds like he does and it sounds very much like he's proud of you for even your minor achievements. are you hungry? he can get you food if you need and makes sure you're shockingly well taken care of and there's not a scratch on you when you leave. he even has you calling him big bro at some point though where that came from nobody is really sure.

on a very different note, Arlecchino is at first very confused by you, then quite soft. she does not coddle you, but she is never particularly aggressive towards you, initially believing that you were looking specifically for her for some reason. after all, what else would make a small child pull at her overcoat? she does begin to wonder where you came from, and was very impressive to you, though she warns you not to grab at her clothes too much. by her own words "Something might bite you" thought that really refers to whatever weapon she keeps, referring to it in a way a child would easily understand. she lets you sit with her while you wait, but warns you once more this time not to wander, sometimes letting you take her hand and guide her to pat your head and play with your hair.

admittedly, you are not what one might call the the most popular with the banker, though he gives you little trinkets and more frequently gives you mora to look at. he gifts you loose mora so much that you run off to him when there's something you want but can't afford, and of course he notices though you think you're so slick. Pantalone starts to give you more money, as long as you keep showing up, looking and learning all the things he wants to show you. he wouldn't indulge your greed so much if it didn't give him what was an opportunity. he finds fostering your curiosity is much easier than squandering it and when you want to see the many things you simply cannot afford while living on the salary of a lowly fatuu you've picked the best option for who to go to. someday you're going to need the knowledge he happily provides, and who better to learn from than the richest man in Teyvat? wait, what do you mean you barely understood a word of it?!

above all else you think La Signora is very beautiful, and really you just want to follow the pretty lady around even if she tries to pretend she doesn't notice you at first. your persistence got so annoying she was forced to turn around and try to figure out what you want, touching your face and observing your features to see if she recognises them. of course she doesn't. she has no idea who the hell you are, or where you came from or what you want. strangely there's this endearment to you, like she can't quite bring herself to get rid of you even if she's not over the moon about you insisting on holding her hand and going wherever she goes.

easily one of the most fun to bother is Sandrone, who may have been a little on the eager side to have someone who could act as a test user for at least a few of her automatons for her. if even a child could understand the instructions, surely grown adults would have no problem right? you make a great play tester, often finding several of them piled up just for you to play with. she knows you can't stop your wandering, you'll continue to come back to see her--her inadvertent bribery that she'll have cool toys to play with ready for you to seek her out. admittedly not all of your critiques make it in, mostly the ones that don't actually apply to their purpose as she has you believing they're just harmless toys with coincidental abilities. she is generally quite benevolent towards you however, always acting as if she really will accept them in a heartbeat. she always keeps you well taken care of too.

perhaps the most shocking reaction of all is Scaramouche who is…unexpectedly nice to you. for someone supposed to be bold and generally disliked, he sure is nice in letting you crawl all over him and ask your thousand questions. he fusses over you in that odd caring way, though never what you'd call particularly sweet about it. he buttons your coat for you when he doesn't want you to get cold and lets you hide under his hat from the snow. Scaramouche often sits you in his lap as he finds something to talk to you about whether it be school or home, all a ploy to keep you still perhaps, but if for some reason he doesn't enjoy your conversations-- well, you certainly don't notice. he does greatly enjoy it in fact, a little more than he cares to admit even to you.

talking at all to Pulcinella is like talking to your Grandfather as he comes to recognise you well, greeting you with a ruffle of your hair as he asks if you've gotten bigger. you haven't gotten bigger, and he's really not all that good at picking you up, but he certainly tries and you try to pretend your feet are more than an inch off the ground. perhaps manhandling simply isn't his strong suit. still you enjoy all the candy he has laying around, and the little gadgets you find around his office which haven't had a use in twenty years. a bit of interest to them doesn't exactly make them useful, and the things you really like are always the ones you can't touch like the little tin of rolled up papers secured with a rubber band and some suspicious stuff you can't discern, but he has many stories to tell of these things all to keep you distracted from the fact you got your hands on a tobacco tin and specifically cannot use it.

strangely the least opposed but most confused by you being around is Capitano, who cannot seem to simply scare you off at a glance and therefore has to wonder why you're here at all, where are your parents? you definitely don't work here. you must be cold, hungry? did you drink enough water today? he finds himself starkly confused as to why you just wander around him, can't seem to find an ounce of sense in you as you don't turn tail and run, and while he lets you sit on his lap when you get too tired he does not appreciate having to pull your hands away from his helmet all the time. maybe he should let you just to deter you after you almost get your hand bitten off. something about the way you still hug him tightly before you leave, or how you'll just dangle off your arm, even the way that you will appear in the most inconvenient situations and he'll just hook you under his arm and cart you off somewhere with him he knows is safe. of course you think this is the most fun you've ever had but on the other hand he really wishes you would show up at a time when he's not occupied.

to Columbina you are just the cutest little thing, drawn to the sound of her voice, though that is only what first leads you to find her by chance. she does not specifically take care of you so much as pamper you, playing with your hair and sitting you by her side to keep you company. you like to turn her hair and the ornaments in her hair, all which make you say she's like a pretty dove. she knows someone will come to find you, but in the meantime she is focused on settling you down to stop your wandering. she lets you cuddle up to her, lulling you to sleep with a pretty song that calms you down. you're much easier to watch that way. it keeps you from wandering, something she notices you must have a habit of considering you found her in the first place. it doesn't matter how full of energy you were when you walked in, always finding yourself curled up, head resting on her shoulder as you drift off to sleep rather quickly.

you are not exactly granted the warmest welcome by the Doctor, in fact you become terrified of Dottore the second he notices you've found your way inside and accidentally mistakes you for one of his test subjects. of course that makes you turning tail and running off seem quite suspicious, though you're also not very hard to catch. all of your squirming is expected, barely even stopping him very much at all. thankfully Dottore wasn't born yesterday, and the large stuffed animal you carry around and the clothes you wear are fairly indicative of the fact that you're probably not one of his subjects after all once he gets a better look at you. though it's hard to ease your shaking and wipe your tears when you're not eager to listen. he's not exactly the best with children either, though you do eventually come around once he figures out what to do, letting you cuddle up to him while he stroke your back to soothe you just in case you happen to be well liked by anyone he's not keen to annoy--rare chance but never impossible. you're not exactly eager to spend time loitering around there once he sets you back on your feet and watches you run off, but rare is not impossible.

how you even managed to find your way to Pierro is beyond even him, as the sudden opening of his door is usually met with a glare, though the sight of an empty space where a person would usually be prompts him to look down just to be sure. suffice it to say he's not exactly happy to have some little ankle biter running around headquarters, but he doesn't really have time to drop everything and scoop you up to march you back wherever you came from. you have to sit still and wait. Pierro should've foreseen you crawling around his feet to get under his desk and treating it like a hidey hole--being there in the first place should've indicated to some degree that you're not particularly into the idea of patience. his numerous attempts to catch you by your arm and hold you still don't work either, just resulting in you giggling and running off to some other corner where you get into something you shouldn't. he knows damn well all of his attempts are only encouraging you, and he's a glad to finally watch you give up, possibly just because you got bored-- but whatever the reason, watching you crawl back under his feet to fit between the little space in between him and his desk lets him breathe a sigh of relief and go back to working for a little white longer while you wait for him to go find whoever you belong to.

suffice it to say whoever was looking for you is sufficiently horrified by the time they find you, but that doesn't seem to be too unusual to you.