thecoffeelovingfreak

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒐𝒉, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆

pairing: vampire!acheron x gn!reader

genre(s): au (unspecified), light angst, eventual fluff, hints of hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers

word count: 3.4k

warnings: written before acheron's release and v2.1, blood, mild descriptions of violence, slight nsfw (it's just during the bite scene and is nothing too intense)

notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my mind, so I hope you enjoy it! I decided to write this as a chronicle almost, of spontaneous meetings before a more conclusory end. I would be up for a part 2 eventually if you'd like to see it! I should also note that because only her trailers have been released, and this is an au, some elements of her character may be missing or not fully expanded upon, but I hope that doesn't interrupt your reading! :)

Read it on ao3!

~~~

Water trickled down from the murky sky, leaving shadow-wrapped puddles on the stone street. The step of a steady heel interrupted one’s stagnance as a figure emerged unshrouded from the alleyway. Another walked to her right, clothes beginning to soak from the rain. Blood trailed behind them, tainting the clear water with flowing scarlet.

“Why did you follow me?” they queried, pausing to lean against a nearby lamp post.

A violet gaze cast in their direction, yet the woman did not speak. She simply watched her momentary companion wince at the persistent ache of a flesh wound. Her fists tightened at the sight – the innate response to a long-held desire. A rising heartbeat flickered in her ears as she observed the form before her. A quirked brow, torn and stained cloth, a slight shiver from the chilled rain.

Striding forward, she was soon halted by their hand.

“Please, answer me.”

Instead, she took that cold limb in hers and brought it over her head, resting it on her left shoulder. She placed her other arm around their waist, and guided them from the lamp post with careful ease.

Calmly, they walked together.

The storm began to intensify as the wind picked up, flurrying droplets against the pair while lightning crackled across the sky.

“To fulfill my duties.” she spoke, strong and smooth.

“Pardon?”

“Why I followed you.”

“Oh…”

“Those beasts have been permeating the city. I seek to remove them. One had been following you to your destination, and I became involved as early as I could. I apologize for your injury. Had I been sooner it could have been avoided.”

“As long as I remain alive, I will consider you a savior."

She hummed, a calm and thoughtful sound in time with the rolling thunder.

"What constitutes a savior to you?"

A thin burst of light painted the dark sky lavender, casting the surrounding buildings in a haze of purple rain.

“A person who protects others, whether doing so is simple or difficult, and will see their work through no matter the cost.”

“I see… Rest your eyes, we will be at an infirmary soon.”

She felt their head fall on her shoulder, hair tickling against her neck. Their breathing had not yet evened out, but their heart rate had begun steadying.

There was a doctor at the end of the block, seeing patients out of his office and an emergency tent that had been placed on the empty lot next door. This would be the seventh time in three days that she would bring a new victim of the ongoing crisis.

She knocked on his door before being greeted by a disheveled man. He quickly understood the situation and turned back into his practice to grab supplies while she lay them down on one of the beds. A hand grasped hers tightly as she began leaving, walking toward the door.

“Wait…”

Their quiet voice reached her ears and beckoned her back to the bedside.

“Thank you, drifting savior.”

“Acheron.”

A small smile grew on their face. “Thank you, Acheron.”

“There’s no need, but… you are welcome nonetheless.”

“Will you stay here?”

“I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere, but you will see me somewhere in the future.”

“Then I wish you luck and safety in your endeavors, until we meet again.”

—

The weekend market still bustled despite the city’s circumstances. Shoppers in a variety of outfits and colors paced up and down the streets, carding through wares, food, and clothes. A basket rested in the crook of your left elbow as you approached a fruit stand. Greeting the shopkeeper, you asked for a few peaches before perusing through the lemons.

You squeezed each one gently, hoping to find one filled with enough juice to add to a marmalade. When two were to your liking, you exchanged payment with the shopkeep and received your produce bag of white peaches, placing all of your main ingredients into your basket.

Bidding farewell, a flash of familiar violet caught your eye amongst the crowd.

You weaved through the people quickly, hoping to catch up to Acheron. A throb began developing in your side, but you did your best to ignore the increasing pain. Finally, you had the opportunity to meet her again, and in a much less dire setting this time. You watched as she strode with an aloof confidence, the crowd slowly moving out of her way.

When you reached the end of the sidewalk, you had the chance to reach out and tap her shoulder. She turned abruptly and faced you, however, before you could make contact.

“How did you know I was coming?”

“I could hear your footsteps approaching.”

You questioned how with the amount of activity there was. Deciding to ponder it later, you reached into your basket.

“Would you like a peach?”

She looked hesitant for a moment, before lightly shaking her head. “I have already eaten.”

“Alright.”

"How is your injury?"

Her question brought your attention back to the dull ache in your left abdomen.

“It is much better, though it will still become irritated from a lot of activity."

“Let us sit down, then. Hand me your basket.”

“Oh, thank you.”

The cool metal of a nearby bench slowly warmed under the heat of your palms. You sat in silence with Acheron, who was leaning against the back of the bench with one leg crossed over the other. It was not uncomfortable – far from it in fact. You felt safe around her, and resting became much easier.

—

You crossed paths next at a gently lighted bar.

She quietly slid onto the stool beside you, a sharp gaze watching your movements. After taking a sip of your cocktail, you met her eyes.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Of course.”

Rising first, she took your right hand in hers and brought you out to the sparkling dance floor. In a swift motion, you were spun into her arms. Deft fingers grasped your hips, turning you around to face her. She brought your arm up over her shoulder, stepping backwards for four beats before bringing her hand to rest delicately at your nape. Shifting your hand to replicate the same, you placed your other hand at her left elbow, and began shifting rapidly from side to side with each step toward her you took. You remove yourself from her, running your hand down her arm and casting her away in a spin. When she returns, she steps at your right foot, sending it back in a kick before it arrives up at her hip. Her hand cups the underside of your knee as yours sit at the back of her neck. She elegantly drags you backward before letting your foot fall to the floor. After, she sets her left hand on your shoulder, walking around you before stepping away, and spinning back into your hands. You dip her and catch her eyes for a moment, watching a flame stoke behind them.

When you bring her back up, a pair of your hands remain connected until you’re within arms distance of each other. You walk in a circle like this – watching her predatory gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable sensation to be underneath, if anything it makes you want to match her pace more. You come back into her arms, in the same position you started in. Your back is to her front, breathing heavily as her fingers ghost over the site of your injury. Only now do you note it’s stinging tenderness, but it slowly begins to dissipate as she rubs over it. You glide together like this over the floor before she sharply turns you out in the hold of her hand. The scene becomes muddled, but a part of you feels an odd joy at the usually uneasy sensation. When you’re finished, she brings you back to her. Your fingers land awkwardly at her sternum and your dance is complete.

As you catch your breath, you begin to notice the lack of a second heartbeat thrumming beneath your fingers.

Yet, that couldn’t be, right? You were mellowing from the performance, yes, but you still would be able to tell if there was a beat outside of your fingertips. When you caught Acheron’s eyes, you could see what seemed like a cloud of thoughtful storm behind them. Without another word, she left.

You remained on the floor, wondering just what lies underneath her violet gaze.

—

A soft wind blew against your cheeks as you rested underneath a large willow tree. The sky glowed in beautiful warm shades, followed by a vibrant indigo. Flipping a page of your book, you attempted to block out the sounds of the park. Children ran and played together as some walked their dogs. A few people stopped at a stand for snacks while talking or heading home.

A shadow and a wisp of white clothing appeared before you, the color of coming evening blending into her hair.

You closed your book and gave her a small smile. “How have you been?”

She looked in your eyes pensively, before reaching out her hand. “Would you like to go for a walk with me?”

“I don’t see why not.” you replied, taking her hand and standing up.

Together you strolled down the paver path, watching as the street lights turned on. The tip of your shoe caught on one of the uneven layers, causing you to stumble forward. Luckily, Acheron caught you carefully, bringing you to a standing position and helping you regain balance again. You lightly laughed off your blunder, doing your best to calm down again after the momentary scare.

As the moon rose higher in the sky, you felt a tired relaxation start to well within you. When you looked to your left, you realized the opposite could be said for your companion. She seemed alert, and ready for combat if the need arose. Her head nudged to the right, signaling for you to turn there, no doubt so you could go deeper toward the forest and avoid others.

“I apologize for what I must do. Please find somewhere safe until I am finished.”

“It is alright.” you responded, deviating to find a temporary shelter from whatever beast was trailing you.

A grotesque, dripping, jet black creature with multiple ice blue eyes came from seemingly nowhere, with a small group of winged beasts accompanying it. You rushed underneath a bench across the small courtyard space, doing your best to breathe silently but your book fell loudly to the ground. Your eyes met the cold ones of the monster, but a flash of purple soon bloomed as horrible screeches filled the air. A shadow expanded over the scene not long after, removing Acheron and the wretched animals from your field of view.

Although they seemed to be gone, you didn’t dare move.

She emerged not long after, a lovely shade of red disappearing from her arms – yet her hair remained white. Another row of creatures came from the forest, and she fought each one effortlessly with a strength and capability that most would not have. Although, the closer you looked and the more little hordes that came, you could feel a sense of exhaustion coming from her. There were a few hits that she couldn’t dodge in time, and one that looked especially deep from where you hid.

As she dealt a final blow, her breath became heavy. She did her best to walk to you with a stoic air. You quickly left your cover, jogging to meet her where she was and watching as she stumbled forward. Surprised, you caught her in your arms, trying to keep her upright.

—

“Thank you for the concern, Bertha, but there is truly nothing to worry about. Care for a jar of marmalade before you go?”

“Oh, that would be excellent! Thank you very much.”

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbing one jar of the peach spread you made two days prior. Returning to the entryway, you handed it to your neighbor with a smile. After exchanging goodbyes, you shut the door and made your way back to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of clean water.

The door to where Acheron was resting sat half-closed, a sign that she had probably begun leaving before resigning to sit back on the bed. With a gentle kick, it opened all the way and revealed your contemplative… friend, now. After many bedridden chats over the last week, you felt closer than before, even if a chilled distance may still remain.

“How are you this morning?” you questioned, placing the bowl on the bedside table and grabbing a fresh cloth from its drawer.

“Better. There is still a persistent fatigue, however.”

You hummed, “I have noticed you sleeping more. I assume it is not helping, then?”

“You would be correct. I am not sure how much longer I want to stay in this bed.”

“Is it not comfortable?” you teased, walking to her side to remove the bandage on her arm.

“No.” she replied with a hint of a smirk.

“Well then, you’ll just have to start moving to other areas of the house.”

“You want me to follow you around all day?” she quipped.

“Maybe. I wouldn’t be entirely averse to having you with me more often. Our chance visits are beginning to be too little for me, I’m afraid.”

“I guess I will have to fix that. Where would you like me to be?”

You felt a light heat grow in your cheeks, and did your best to keep a straight face as you softly rubbed the wet cloth over her cuts.

“Right beside me.” you whispered.

She hummed, looking almost regretful.

After you finished, you offered her a hand. She took it, and calmly you helped her get to a chair in the small dining area off of the kitchen. Her speed and strength had definitely improved since the first day she woke up. Faint and injured, she had tried to rise and leave, but you stopped her. She needed to rest and be given care for a while. Within the minute, she had already fallen back asleep, and you began tending to her stressed wounds once more.

Her hair has yet to fade from a gleaming white.

Putting a slice of bread in the toaster, you didn’t bother asking Acheron if she would like a piece. In all of the time that you have known her, she has never eaten or drank anything.

“Do you want to ask me something?” she queried, head tilting slightly in your direction.

She always had such attentive hearing – too honed almost. Impressive strength and stamina, something that was almost inhuman. She had no heartbeat that you could sense, either. From all of the tales that you have heard in your life, you could only find one conclusion.

“Actually, I do.” Taking a seat across from her, you folded your hands over the table. “Are you a vampire, Acheron?”

A beat of silence crossed the room before she replied, “How adept of you.”

The toaster popped, and you paused a moment before rising to check it. Placing it on a plate, you opened the butter dish and retrieved a knife before spreading it over your toast.

“You need blood, then, correct? In order to soothe your fatigue.”

“Yes.” she returned simply.

Brushing your fingers on a nearby towel, you slowly strode to her side of the table.

“Use me.”

It was a bold request, and one that she could very possibly turn down. Still, you were going to see her care through to the end. Even besides that, you were starting to consider her a friend.

She seemed stunned, although her face could never communicate the extent of which. As if betraying her features, her hands started traveling around your waist, bringing you slowly onto her lap.

“Are you certain?”

“Of course.”

With no hesitation or restraint, she licked up the right side of your neck, bringing her left hand up to tug at your hair and angle your head over. Your fingers curled into the front of her shirt, one that she had borrowed from you. The tip of her tongue crossed the cusp of your ear, making your grip tighten. Her thumb started rubbing your scalp as she bit down. It burned initially, but within an instant became truly pleasurable. Her lips tightened around her bite as she sucked and licked the area, drawing blood out and leaving you in a daze. One hand remained tightened around her shirt while the other drifted to her hair, holding her closer. Your breath echoed in her ear, one that was likely catching the soft whimpers that left you, only spurring her on more.

Your body moved against her, seeking any more of her you could get. A small nick from one of her teeth made you whine as you repeated the same motion. She did it again. Her other hand fell from your waist to your hip, sliding underneath your shirt and rubbing your lower back. You relaxed into her, sliding your hand further down her body, shifting closer to her as that hand moved to her stomach, stroking underneath the borrowed fabric.

You felt her begin to pull away below your left hand, and so you brought it out of her hair and down her cheek. The white started leaving her hair, but your gaze remained only on her eyes – and the remnants of blood on her lips. In a swift motion, you licked her bottom lip, tasting what she so craved. Before you could shift backward, she tightened her grip in your hair and kissed you with the same passion you danced with weeks ago. She leaned back and you cupped her cheek, bringing your other hand up to her bare waist. Tracing over the cool skin, you remained on her for a small minute before finally, she parted from you.

—

A knock hit your door right before you were set to leave for the day.

When you opened it, none other than Acheron greeted you.

“I remember you dropped this during my battle, so I came to return it.” she stated, handing over your leather-wrapped book.

“Thank you.” you replied, turning away to leave it on the table by the door. When you looked back, she had something else prepared.

“I also wanted to bring you this gift.”

You accepted a white box with purple and red ribbon. A letter rested underneath the bow, and you saved it for last. After undoing the neat package, you opened it to find a well-forged dagger.

“I wanted to give you something to start with, so that if the time comes and I am not there, you will have a weapon.”

It was a beautiful present. A winding snake wrapped around the hilt, its head resting on the tip. It had a sharp shine to it, and weighed light under your hands. It was held in white leather, and displayed a dark metal when you removed it. You would be sure to cherish it.

Exchanging the blade for the letter on the table, you slid a letter opener under the seal and lifted out the paper. While it was not very long, it seemed incredibly heartfelt.

I must start this letter by telling you how much I appreciate all that you have done for me. I am not accustomed to such care, much less the tenderness that you showed me. It is an… odd feeling. But one that I am not very against. Though I cannot say that I can stop my drifting across the country, I can say that I will always return here, to you. I want to stay for the next few months, and teach you some of what I know. I hope you will consider my offer, and me.

Sincerely yours,

Acheron

Wordlessly, you set the letter down and crossed the threshold, placing a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her in a hug. She hesitated at first, but soon crossed her own over your back.

In a whisper, she posed a question. “Will you accept?”

“Of course!” you returned quietly.

“Great. We will begin tomorrow.”

A complementing smile grew on her face, one that showcased a great amount of joy that you had never seen from her before. It was lovely, and you were sure that the next few months with her would feel the same.

#coff writes for hsr 🍾 #title is once again from tbh&c #specifically the ultracheese :) #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr acheron #hsr acheron x reader #honkai star rail acheron #honkai star rail acheron x reader #hsr au

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕

character: aventurine

genre: angst

word count: 1.4k

warnings: spoilers for aventurine's past and the penacony quest, released pre-2.1

notes: i was thinking about him over breakfast and spent the entire day writing this! I will say that my writing may be a little rusty since I've been on a 6-month hiatus. I wanted to create a character snapshot to speculate and give a look at what we know about him so far, so I hope you enjoy it!

Read it on ao3!

~~~

A pensive sigh filled the hotel room, blending into the wistful and heavy melody streaming soft and delicate from the phonograph horn. Unrealistically chilled bottles of SoulGlad rest in the niche beside it, an orange that contrasted well with the deep blue traversing the walls. A deck of playing cards rests on the wooden table, a tool for the idle hands of a certain guest to use as he attempts to pass the time. His focused gaze was targeted on the array of triangles built in line before him.

A house of cards required many elements that Aventurine held dear – ones that rested on the back of his gloved hand.

Patience, time, attention to detail, and confidence. All of which reinforce the plans simmering in his mind, and in turn, contribute to the air of pure self-assurance he carried. Some may call it arrogance, but to him it is a manifestation of the simple fact that everything will work out in his favor. One way or another, for better or for worse.

Deft fingers grasped two more cards, setting them meticulously over the flat backs beginning his next level. His hands would never shake as they approached the slowly growing tower, even when he first learned how to construct a steadfast house many years ago. He never hesitated – at least not since he became an asset of the IPC. There was no room for any sort of weakness in their ranks, plain and simple. If you wanted the money and power to become impenetrable, you first needed to learn strategy.

Entertain me for a moment, will you?

What do you want, Diamond?

To give you a hypothetical, and see how you respond. Think of it as an impromptu assessment of your current skills.

Alright.

Walk with me first.

Another pair of cards joined the house, gradually building up a wall between the rest of the room and where he stood.

There is a planet on the outer recesses of our galaxy. It is in proximity of several meteors. Only three are on a path towards said planet. This has occurred many times over the last 350 Amber Eras. They are nearing the end of their resources, and have a chance to be erased completely without intervention. They have had no prior dealings with the IPC and are reluctant to seek aid as they are in development of a plan to exterminate all of the surrounding meteors. However, there is no set date for when their plan will be completed, much less enacted. The meteors will be hitting them in just one and a half months. Tell me, Aventurine, what would you do?

What we always do. Offer them our aid and see if they take it. Use force if necessary, and ensure that they end up in our hands.

Spoken like a true Stoneheart. Yet I still wonder if you truly believe your own words?

He held the king of spades in between his index and middle finger, gazing at it intently. His ego likened himself to that image, but there was always doubt lingering in the corners of his mind. Beneath all of the glamour, possessions, lies, and silver-tongue tactics there was a hurting man. A scared and tired boy. One with an array of scars, apparent yet hidden. A person that existed within him, yet was increasingly out of reach. A part of him wanted to forget that side of him, cast it away and never have to face his perceived weaknesses. But another part of him wanted to keep it – cherish it. To wait until his vulnerable moments and allow himself to feel. One half was Aventurine, and the other half was…

No. Now was not the time for remembrance.

He placed the king of spades with the jack of hearts next, smoothly placing them down and moving onto the next pair.

Excuse me?

You heard me, don’t attempt games. I was there for your recruitment, and I’ve witnessed your progress. I have to ask: do you want to help them for the IPC, or for your own conscience?

Come now, you know it would be my honor to provide them with our benefits.

Hmm. I have to disagree. It would serve you better to forsake those sentiments. Our conversation is over, I have reports to catch up on. You are dismissed.

“Recruitment”. He had no choice in that. But that was their ploy, right? Prey on the vulnerable and use them for their own gain. It was a trick used against him, and it was one he had used on others. Though he always made sure never to deal them as cruel a hand as he was given, somewhere in the murky depths of his heart, regret swam. It was heavy and engulfing, threatening to burst forth when he was alone in the middle of the night. The feeling of being nothing but a tool was sickening – he understood that well. It was one of the many things he would never want other people to experience. But he would make them anyway. That was survival. An unfortunate “game” of risk and reward, the ultimate gamble. What do you wager in order to be gifted with more time? How much are you willing to bet that your strategy will work?

Aventurine had many maneuvers. Methods that he had honed with time and experience.

An intricately crafted front can get you far. Wrap your walls in affability that can draw people closer or push them further away. Use it to catch them in your tricks. Assess what both parties are willing to stake for what they can possibly gain. Befriend them, although it's often superficial. Take what they give with a smile, and do small favors where you can. They'll owe you, after all. Just enjoy the game, you'll win at the end no matter the cost.

The view from the Strategic Investment Department’s building displayed a vibrant cityscape of Pier Point. A bustling environment that completely contrasted with what he was used to beforehand. He was the last Sigonian now, and he had no room for mourning in this place. Despite that, a festering wound sat in his chest, wanting to be acknowledged and no longer denied. It ached and burned, filling him with an overwhelming sadness and frustration at his circumstances, and himself. He was all that remained – all that he could rely on. His eyes began to glaze over. He swallowed thickly, willing it all back down. You can’t be weak here. There’s no one left to comfort you.

The cards were built to the third row now, and a sense of satisfaction and content fell upon him. It was a similar feeling to seeing a mission through successfully. With a small flourish, the jack of spades and ace of hearts arrived in his hands, ready to be crowned at the top of the house. As he placed them down, a light smile appeared on his face. Stepping back, he stretched his fingers and observed his work.

Grabbing a simply mixed white grape soda, took a sip, and reached for the token in his pocket. He turned it horizontally and prepared to balance it at the very top, a quick test – a gamble in its own way – to see if it could rest at the peak. Setting his drink down to the left, he leaned down and watched the chip with intent. He perched it carefully on top of the cards, leaving it perfectly centered. It rested well for a moment, before collapsing through the cards and sending each row into disarray.

His stare turned sour. What outcome did he expect? Naturally the chip would be far too heavy for the cards to support. That didn’t matter however. He would rebuild it again and ensure that the token could rest on top, disregarding the almost inherent impossibility. If he wanted a specific outcome, he would see it through to the end, taking the required measures to get there.

The consequences of a failed mission always linger, a potentially fatal result in repose on his shoulders, creating a pernicious sting. This was just an illustrative trial of his purpose here, and on every other planet he had visited.

When it was all said and done, the absolute truth of his work would remain the same: he had everything to gain and nothing to lose.

#coff writes for hsr 🍾 #and yes the title is from batphone #tbhc is one of my favorite albums and something about it just reminds me of penacony #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail aventurine #hsr fanfic

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

hey!

It's been awhile since I've been here, and I wanted to make a quick update instead of just randomly posting again.

Late last August I got into a car accident, but luckily only came out of it with a concussion. It's taken me these last 6 months to fully recover and try to adjust back to normal life and routines again. I've made a lot of life changes in that time as well, most of which I think will be for the better! To put it simply, I'm glad to be feeling good again!

Before my accident, I was also experiencing quite a bit of burnout and writer's block. I'm hoping to pick up writing again soon as it's always been a passion of mine, but I'm going to have a more fluid schedule and make sure that I put out works that I can feel even more proud of without sacrificing sleep or rushing the end of the fic to meet my personal deadlines.

I'm going to be going through and reblogging some posts I was tagged in and asks that I've received during the past 6 months, so sorry if it clouds your dash! I may also decide to refresh my layouts and whatnot so for now this account is in a bit of a renovation & house-keeping state lol.

I'm very happy to be coming back to my community and much love to you all for your patience and support!! 😊🫶

#coff is wandering #coff's updates

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

my game ids:

twst - JmrzptLy (EN server; you'll see my name as earlgrey)

genshin - 669045732 (NA server; you'll see my name as Taylor)

hsr - 616365462 (NA server; you'll see my name as Taylor)

feel free to add me if you would like!

#coff is wandering #finally sharing these lol

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

Thank you for the tag! <3

Tagging: @mochimiyaas @ranger-from-the-north + anyone else who wants to join!

Bored, did a picrew.

I offer you frog, do you accept?

#coff's reblogs: picrew!

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒔

Sandrone x gn!"Puppeteer"!Reader

Writing Genre: short series

Genres: horror, hurt/comfort, fluff, old friends to stangers to friends to eventual qpr, angst

Total word count: ___

Series began: tba | Series ended: tbd

-> new chapters every friday, or as soon as possible if the chapter is running late

-> read it on ao3!

*warnings will be listed before each chapter, but this series will have some similar themes as my old hannibal!au*

~~~

chapter I - come feed desire

chapter II - defunct the strings

chapter III - another fiend, so beautiful

epilogue - creation itself, in our very hands

#coff writes for genshin🍵 #chamber of corses #cc #genshin sandrone #fatui sandrone #sandrone #sandrone x reader #the marionette #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fatui #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact sandrone

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

Thank you for the tag! <3

APPEARANCE

i’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails (sometimes) // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES AND TALENTS

i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe (occasionally) // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

RELATIONSHIPS

i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

AESTHETICS

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

MISCELLANEOUS

i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

tagging: @mochimiyaas @ranger-from-the-north + anyone else who wants to join!

Thank you @keigotakamiz for the tag! it was fun going through this except i'm black so 🤣

rules: bold the ones that are true and tag 15 people to do it.

APPEARANCE

i’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES AND TALENTS

i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

RELATIONSHIP

i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

AESTHETICS

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

MISCELLANEOUS

i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

tags! (you don't have to do this if you don't want to + i don't know that many people lmao): @snobwaffles @nc-vb @torntoblivion @sainttoru @verxsyon @yanqingisim @miguelism @smittenroses

#coff's reblogs: tag games

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈?

epilogue of and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest

Pairing: Arlecchino x gn!Minister of Justice!Reader

Genres: fluff :)

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: brief scene of murder, blood

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

~~~

THREE MONTHS LATER

               The silence permeating the theater was only broken by the projection of a young man's voice from the stage. Manon sat to your right, her incredibly warm hand in yours. The light from the stage reflected boldly in her dark eyes, caused by the proximity of your booth to the stage.

She had sponsored the production, after all, so she and her partner deserved the best seats in the house.

Her eyes squinted in concentration, analyzing Lyney's words and performance. She had told you that Lynette always did her job well, but occasionally her brother would cause problems.

Manon was a heavy critic of those that worked for her, and as a Harbinger, nothing short of perfection would suffice.

As Lynette rose from the water, demonstrating one of her infamous escapes, Lyney reported her success and the audience applauded. Your partner clapped slowly and measuredly, her eyes softening yet her posture remaining heavy.

She had many burdens resting on her angular shoulders, and you did your best to aid her when you could. Tonight was an example.

When the siblings retreated behind the curtain, and a soft melody fell upon the theatre, Manon’s gaze met yours as the crowd exited.

“I promise you that we will be on our way soon, chère, I simply have to host a small meeting.”

A flicker of knowing rested in your eyes as she departed, walking straight for the backstage doors. As she vanished behind the dark wood, you stood and strolled slowly to the base of the stage. The golden lights still shown brightly, and you found yourself mesmerized.

You never had opportunities to visit the theatre as a child, much less when you arrived at the orphanage. Even when you became a high member of the Court, you never found time to witness the art your nation held so dear. You supposed it was simply a part of being Manon’s lover – she was a puppeteer and performer herself, with money and tactics that could provide you with anything you wanted. Proof that the Fatui’s reach was vast, and their grip was unmoveable.

Now that the theatre was clear, your steps echoed as you climbed the ornate steps to the stage. Vibrant reds and golds shone large before you as you felt the infectious energy of being on the famous platform. You turned your back to the seats and brought your hands to the edges of the decorated tank. The water sat still, and you remained the only person in the space.

Dipping your right hand into the water, you brought your arm back sharply and watched as the drops paused in the air. They floated and waited for a command as you gathered more of the clear liquid. With grand conducting movements, you entranced a non-existent crowd. The water flowed gently throughout the theatre, seemingly having a personality of its own. You watched as it danced and flitted about, similar to how it would back when you used to perform for other children in Mélodie des Vagues.

A simple tune rose from you in coordination with the fluid sound of the water’s movement. 

The strong yet gentle grasp of limber fingers on your hips broke your daze, yet the water did not fall from its fantastical show.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, belle flamme,” you teased, turning your head slightly to meet her gaze.

“I suppose so,” she retorted, taking your hands in hers and spinning you back into her direction.

The meeting must have gone well – Manon was always more playful when things went according to plan.

She released one of your hands and small flames began blossoming from her palm. They burned warm and powerfully, flowing through the theater to caper with the water in the air. A spectacle of opposition and unity – coexistence despite nature.

Taking Manon’s hand back, you positioned yourself in the start of a familiar dance.

“Won’t you entertain me for a moment?” you questioned, hope in your eyes.

“Always,” your partner responded, solidifying her position with a small smile on her face.

It was one of the many evenings you spent alone, executing an intuitive dance that would come to you. Her hands would move across you in gliding movements as you strongly shifted across the stage. From a turn with her gloved hand over the side of your neck to resting and casting you in a spin from your hip. She moved with purpose and touched with intent, leaving you caught in the dazzling whirlwind of her plans. Eventually a soft melody fell from your lips, a tune echoing your dance. It was a song you heard when Manon first brought you to the theatre – a performance of the tale of two lovers who had become bitter, yet still felt affection and care for each other despite their actions. The lyrics blossomed from memory revealing their true sentiments as they argued and tried to make love prevail. Soon Manon’s voice joined yours, deeper and just as ardent as yours.

With a final flourish into her arms, you wrapped your hands around the back of her neck. Water returned to its tank as her little flames swirled around you, brushing against your face yet never burning – a welcome warmth. Clapping could be heard from the middle of the seating as your surprised gaze landed on Manon’s spies. 

“A wondrous spectacle, truly! How marvelously you perform together,” Lyney teased, walking backward to the exit of the theatre where his sibling waited.

“Unless you would like to be dismissed, I recommend that you leave immediately,” she stated authoritatively. 

He raised his hands in surrender and sped up his pace, not in the mood to challenge his boss.

When they exit the doors, Manon sighed.

“I apologize for the behavior of my subordinates.”

“No need, ma chère, I always love to get a glimpse into your world.”

She sighed lightly, and affection rested in her eyes as she brought one of her hands to your cheek. Running her thumb across the skin, she kissed your forehead lovingly.

“Are you ready for dinner?” she asked softly, to which you nodded.

—

Dinner had unfortunately been forgotten as you walked the lamp lit streets of Brume de Lys with Manon by your side. Your arm was linked with hers, and to any onlooker you would appear as a charming couple – the Minister of Justice and their Harbinger partner. In all actuality however, you were stalking your victim of the night. A man by the name of Frédéric le Vainqueur in his circles – his surname was unknown and unimportant to you. The Court wished for him to be executed, and for it to appear as if he had been mauled and left at the riverside.

You followed him together at the next turn, talking and occasionally giggling idly. When you neared the last alley before the bridge, you turned to your partner and started pondering aloud if you were lost. After a moment, you ran to the man and asked if he knew where the restaurant you planned to dine at was. While he tried to aid you, Manon gripped him from behind and brought him into the darkness of the alley.

You stood at the entrance and watched intently as the Harbinger began using her signature method of disposal. You summoned water coating the sides of the street to fill his mouth and gargle his screams. Not that it mattered for long – Manon always made quick work of her targets.

She huffed as she walked over to you, blackened and blood-soaked hands reaching for yours. You followed behind her to the body, standing to the side to prepare to lift him up and shift him over to the edge of the bridge. Your partner followed suit, and together you quickly carried the corpse to the disposal location. An officer would be nearby soon to patrol the area, and would send report and confirmation of your deeds to the Court.

Taking Manon’s hands in your once again, you placed a soft kiss on each one, the harsh yet welcome taste of copper fresh on your lips. One of her hands curled underneath your chin, her thumb and index finger raising your head. She placed a firm and vehement kiss on your lips, licking the blood off of your bottom lip gently as she departed. 

When she gazed at you beneath the moonlight, covered in red and still illuminated with beauty, you knew that you finally found all the love that you wanted in her. Whether she was the Knave, Arlecchino, Marie Donnadieu, or Manon, you would remain at her side forevermore.

FIN

#coff writes for genshin🍵 #ahhbshc #and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest #genshin fanfic #genshin arlecchino #genshin impact fatui #genshin spoilers #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #fatui arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #fatui harbingers #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆

chapter VI of and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest

Pairing: Arlecchino x gn!Minister of Justice!Reader

Genres: angst, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: arguing, weaponizing trauma (partially), angst, brief use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of violence and murder, physical violence due to anger and frustration

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | epilogue

~~~

The lovely sharp scent of Manon’s cologne cast your thoughts aside as you glanced at where she sat. The mixture of sea salt, bitter orange, and cedar suited her well, and you suspected it was chosen specifically for her trip back to Fontaine. Your gaze did not stray as you watched her gracefully sip her tea, her contrasting eyes on Focalors.

Two new guests sat to her right at the large table – a newly famous duo performing magic shows at the oldest theatre in the city. Both were funded by Manon, or rather, the Knave.

The heat of a sturdy hand on your shoulder brought your focus back to the casual end of your morning with the diplomats.

“I am sure that our Minister would be pleased to host you for supper this evening.”

Manon nodded, her hands folded over her lap and eyes focused intently on your features. “Excellent, I will be looking forward to it.”

While you did not appreciate the chief justice extending the invitation for you, you sensed that he must have debated the idea with Furina before you arrived at the courtroom.

“I am afraid I will not be able to come, but thank you for your kindness,” the Marionette – Sandrone, you learned – replied.

You would be alone with Manon after twelve years.

The evening was bound to be eventful.

Recovering from your momentary surprise, you spoke, “That is unfortunate. I hope we will be able to meet privately another time.”

She smiled small, but you felt that it was not genuine in the slightest.

“It was lovely to see you again, Ms. Arlecchino, but I’m afraid we must prepare for our next show this afternoon,” one of the performers, Lyney, stated as he rose from his seat.

“Please excuse us,” his sibling and co-worker, Lynette, requested.

“You are dismissed,” Manon said, waving gently toward the exit.

The conversation flowed for a few minutes longer before she decided to take her leave. Shortly after she departed, you dismissed yourself as well. Catching up to her quickly, you placed your fingertips along her elbow, trying to get her attention and stop her from venturing into the street.

Her eyes were surprised, and she drew her elbow back. You felt crushed at her rejection for a moment, but really, what did you expect? She had not seen you in twelve years, there was no way either of you could just pick up where you left off.

The more she stared at you, the more your words left you.

“If you have nothing to say, I will be going, __. Have a lovely day, and I will see you at seven this evening.”

As you watched her walk away, you were filled with odd desperation. You flexed your hand.

You would be seeing her tonight – you could talk and share as much as you wanted then.

—

Manon’s nerves were unusually on edge as she knocked on your door. Your home was decently isolated on the outskirts of Brume de Lys along the Crête Coulante. It was a lengthy drive, and her heart had raced awkwardly while her thoughts did as well.

With a small flourish, the large dark cherry wood door opened and revealed you in black, purple, and gold. Her heart skipped a beat just as it did when you touched her in the morning.

"Good evening, Man– Arlecchino,” you greeted cordially, bringing an arm out behind you and beckoning her in.

She nodded to you, silent as she stepped foot into your domain. Even if it was your home, she would remain guarded.

“I can take your coat if you would like.”

“Please,” Manon replied, turning her back. The light and warm traces of your fingertips along her shoulders filled her with unnerving anticipation. For what, she couldn’t guess. A small chill in the air greeted her when you removed her dark coat. Shivers ran down her spine as your gathered her ponytail in your left hand and straightened it out, your hand brushing across the back of her neck.

“There,” you stated quietly, “Now, if you would please follow me to the dining room. Supper awaits.”

~

Your dining room was coated in dark tones of cool colors, silver accompanying the shades of night like moonlight. You sat elegantly at the opposite head of the table, a glass of some white wine Manon couldn’t recall in hand, too transfixed on the moment. One of your servers brought a cart out that carried headless fish of various sizes on ice, as well as croutons with garlic, rouille, and multiple plates and bowls. 

“Tonight we’ll be having one of my favorite dishes. It originated among the fishermen in my hometown many years ago, and quickly became loved by those of all classes.”

As the server placed one of the fish on his cutting board, Manon’s eyes became glazed over in thought as she watched him. The knife slicing apart the flesh made her recall how her soiled hands did the same. How your joint wishes for violence drove you apart. A pernicious yet familiar sensation creeped up her spine, gripping onto her heart and poisoning her mind with protective spite.

As the bowls were filled with the flesh in broth, you cleared your throat.

“Please, leave us, Jean,” you spoke, rising from your seat, “I will serve us tonight.”

“As you wish,” the man replied before walking back to the kitchen through a closed wooden door.

Manon observed your movements sharply, watching as you brought the soup and bread to her seat. As you set the dish before her, your eyes met. A harsh look rested in your gaze, and she felt an imaginary arrow pierce through the ice casing of her heart.

“Arlecchino, why did you join the Fatui?”

Your whispered question caught her off guard, as did the fact that you were not moving from where you stood looking down at her and observing her reactions.

“That is private information,” she responded.

“Bullshit, Arlecchino.”

“Why do you insist on calling me by that name? You know what my name actually is. Are you just trying to pathetically provoke me?”

“Obviously it’s working, Marie. Now answer my question.”

“Why are you being so harsh?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what you want with me after all of these years. I figured your career was the best place to start.”

“That still does not explain this anger, __.”

“Am I not supposed to be angry, Marie? You show up in Fontaine after twelve years with practically no word to me. Our organizations work together, you have connections and agents all across Teyvat, and yet you could never find me?”

“Do not act as if this is all on me. You have just as much standing as I do. Take responsibility – for all of it. If you had not sent me away after Henri, we would be together in Snezhnaya, just as we wished!”

“I will not be discussing this here with you. I will be in the lounge.”

“Now you want to run?” Manon asked, rising from her seat and striding rapidly behind you, “Why am I even asking – that is all that you do.”

The door to the lounge slammed open as you fell on the loveseat heavily. Manon simply shut it again behind her.

“I have far less capabilities than you, Marie. All I am good for in this forsaken court is executing whoever Focalors requests I do. All of my studies were for naught. I’m nothing but a puppet for her – just like everyone else.”

“And who asked for that position, __? You’re not a victim.”

“Neither are you,” you snorted, “Tell me, why would you abandon the person you loved most?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask yourself.”

“I did not abandon you, Marie.”

“You might as well have! I practically tore up your hometown looking for you! I ran through the city a bloodied and burned mess trying to find where you disappeared to! I had no choice but to leave the nation, we were about to become public enemies!”

“I went into the sea to heal! A siren needs to recuperate in water to repair a heart of water!”

“Don’t act like that is so obvious, __.”

“You’re a phoenix, Marie! Didn’t your precious guardian teach you anything?”

“Do not speak of them in such a manner.”

“Now you’re suddenly the victim again, of course.”

Red hot fire ran in her veins now.

“Are you fucking kidding me, __? What is this mess? Why are you arguing with me right now?!”

“Why are you arguing with me?”

“Oh for archon’s sake, would you just shut up already?” she yelled, throwing a spare book in your direction, narrowly missing your head.

Your gaze turned frightened before it became ice cold. You stood and approached your small bar cart, grabbing one of the glasses off of it. Manon snatched another book. You chucked the glass at her face, but she blocked it with the book and it shattered to the floor.

You reached for another glass, and another, throwing them at her, and then just simply the floor before her. Shards cascaded over her shoes and the bottoms of her trousers, sliding back to the floor and leaving no damage.

Your appearance was disheveled as you huffed consistently in exhaustion and frustration, opening one of your bottles of liquor and taking a brief swig. Manon threw the book at your knee and you doubled over, grabbing it and dropping your bottle, causing a small cut to grow on your hand.

She walked over to you and grabbed your hair, bringing your head back.

“You want to know it all, don’t you? Fine. I lived on the streets of Snezhnaya for a year before the Fatui came to town. I was scouted and brought to their training facility. It took another year for me to hone new skills and focus on what power I possessed as a phoenix. When the day came for the official scouting and ranking, I was sent to not only a training campus, but one for political, historical, and scientific studies. When I graduated four years ago, the Tsaritsa herself sent for me. She wanted for me to become one of her Harbingers, and even if I would be in the lower ranks, I would have been a fool not to take the opportunity. I had power, control, and guidance. The same year, I was put in charge as the Director of the House of the Hearth, an orphanage that would raise children from all over Teyvat in the ways of the Fatui. I had time to mourn and time to grieve you, but I had a duty and a responsibility to my nation. I did not have access to any dealings with Fontaine until one year ago when our mission plans began. Just because I could not find you, __, and just because I thought you were dead, does not mean you didn’t plague my thoughts every day. It does not mean that now that I know you’re alive, and here in front of me, where I can touch you and see you, that you do not make me question everything. That my heart does not race and I am not on fire.”

A loud smack reverberated around the room as your palm made contact with her cheek, blood swiping dramatically across her face. 

Surprise and hurt flashed freely across Manon’s face before she released you.

“All I hear are excuses, Marie.”

Shock fell upon Manon’s body as she simply plummeted to the floor. Panic and rage, disbelief and sorrow, all coursing throough her mind.

“Perhaps your story is true, but I do not believe your love for me to be true anymore.”

“How could you say that?” Manon whispered, “Where is your love for me, __?” she asked, rising up from the floor as steady as possible. “Do you have nothing left in this dead heart of yours? Did Henri burn it all away?”

Her finger poked jaggedly at your chest. “I know that I left you, __, but you left me too. Why can you be bitter, but I cannot?”

Manon watched as your eyes flooded with tears, your heavy and abrasive cover falling apart at the seams. Sobs racked through your body as you wiped at your face, a bolt of lightning breaking through the sky in the window behind you. A storm to accompany your own flurry of emotions.

“I…I…I never meant for any of this to happen, Manon. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you. Nothing I can say will ever repair what I did tonight, and I am not going to beg for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to even be in your presence right now.”

You fell back onto the loveseat oncemore, eyes shut and arms crossed. “I understand if you want to forget me. I never deserved love from you in the first place. I have yet to become the person I want to be, and until then I shouldn’t even want for you. But I do, Manon, and I am still terribly in love with you to this day. I know I have treated you with less than you deserve, and I have acted foolishly here tonight, trying to keep my guard up and get answers. But that would never get me anywhere, would it? Love is not something that you should treat roughly, and we both have killed it here tonight.”

You sniffled and her heart shattered.

“So please leave, Manon. Find someone better, take over the world, do and find whatever or whoever makes you happy because I do not want you to settle for me.”

You rose from your seat and left the room, a small trail of blood following you.

Manon was left to gather herself and process what had happened, taking a seat where you had been just moments before. Memories and thoughts of all kinds circulating through her mind

Her arms ached to hold you, to comfort you. But she had to resist every heart driven urge. That is what life and the Fatui taught her.

So, she rose from her seat, dryed her developing tears, and left the lounge. She walked through the hall as calm as possible and reached the front door. She put her coat back on and strode into the open storm. Rain pelted her, but she kept her head high and continued walking. She was leaving earlier than scheduled, so she would have to tough out the weather without a car.

Her boots were becoming soaked in mud and her pace slowed.

What the hell was she doing?

Turning back around, she began running back toward your home. She covered a surprisingly long distance, but perhaps she was outside longer than she thought. In the minimal pale moonlight, she could hardly make out anything, much less with cloud cover and rain. Nevertheless, she continued, her relentless determination fueling her. When she reached the outskirts of your familiar front gardens, she was hit with a hard force.

You.

Manon fell back into the mud, her training falling short in shock. Your knees rested at her hips, and you forehead met her chest. The cold rain fell onto her face before your head rose. Your eyes were filled with sorrow and regret.

“Please don’t leave me again. I couldn’t handle it. Not after all of this time. I’ll pay every penance you would like me to, but please don’t leave me here. I just want you to hold me again. I just want to see you smile. I want to cook and bake and garden with you again. I’ll even kill with you. I just want you back and by my side. Please, Manon. You are the only person that is most dear to me in this world.”

Your hands gripped her coat and shirt tightly, weakly pulling and shaking.

When faced with your begging, Manon could do nothing but give in. She placed her hand on the back of your head and guided you down to a strong and sentimental kiss. She could taste your tears and the rain on your lips, which only motivated her to keep going until they were gone. Your hands released their grip and splayed over her shoulders, trying to support yourself. She brought her other hand up to grip your elbow and she sighed into your final kiss.

“I hear you, ma lumière, and I hope that you hear me too.”

You nodded, and Manon smiled smally for the first time in years. You leaned back and she sat up with you, not moving her hands from where they now were on your back. You brought one of your hands to her cheek, the blood now washed away, and ran your thumb over her lips. Her smile grew wider, and so did yours.

“I know that we will need time, but I’m willing to take another chance on us,” you whispered.

“So am I,” the Harbinger replied, “And I will wait for however long we need.”

#coff writes for genshin🍵 #ahhbshc #and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest #genshin arlecchino #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fatui arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #genshin impact fatui #fatui harbingers #genshin sandrone

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

fr tho why is everything smut😭😭 i wanna read angst that would ruin me, make me sick to my stomach and cry like there's no tomorrow bro i want a fanfic that is so devastating that i won't be able to function for the next few months

#so true #prev tags were exactly right #it's something i've noticed more and more #and it's a bit disheartening #now i'm not trying to invalidate smut writers at all #writers create what they enjoy and what makes them proud #but support is everything for fanfic authors #and just authors in general #i think a lot of it is about recommending fic authors of all kinds to help boost support #and simply showing support yourself for said authors #reblogs or comments sharing your thoughts on someone's fic is literally what helps fuel authors #kind words and support go a long way #so to get a little more back on track #even though smut can be more appealing to read for some audiences/fandoms #it's still important to check out other genres within the fandom #so that it doesn't die out or become all smut #since that is a lot of what i see with big fandoms now and ones that used to be big #it's a lot of smut and memes #and i've seen plenty of authors comment on how they feel less motivated because their audience is silent or dying out #basically just support all genres of fics and their authors #thank you for coming to my ted talk #coff is wandering #coff's reblogs

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒆

chapter V of and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest

Pairing: Arlecchino x gn!Minister of Justice!Reader

Genres: politics & law, angst, horror (kind of), found family fluff (once again, kind of)

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: scenes of murder, smoking, decently graphic depictions of torture, improper interrogation (if you could even call it that)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | epilogue

~~~

TWELVE YEARS LATER

Gunshots echoed through the foggy alley as you watched piercing bullets of water enter through the hearts of the four men in front of you. Smoke clouded your vision as you exhaled the bold flavor of tobacco from your mouth. 

The men had come to the courtroom wanting a meeting with no notice – you had provided it regardless, but all they wanted to do was pitch you offers for certain prisoners to be set free and given to their care.

Only the Court or the Fatui could authorize and handle such a task.

The group of men fell straight to the ground, the pain likely unbelievable. Water intoxication would set in soon – then you would simply slit their throats. As you waited, you shifted your long dark coat to the side, placing your revolver back into its holster and retrieving a small matchbox from the pocket of your slacks. You took out one of the wooden sticks before striking it on the side and putting the box away. Groans of pain persisted as you waited for the sulfur to burn away before relighting your carved pipe – a gift for your birthday from Neuvillette three years ago when you began these habits.

A hand gripping tightly around your ankle drew your disgusted gaze downward to one of the men. Bringing your ankle back, you clamped your foot down onto his hand. He shrieked before you drew an aquatic-designed dagger from its hilt along your side. In an instant, blood shot from the poor man’s neck and sprayed over your dark new dress shoes. His three co-conspirators tried their best to beg and apologize, but it was not of any use. Their fate was already decided.

Taking the dagger, you simply bent and let the blood fly. You turned away as quickly as possible, not wanting to get your day clothes or tobacco covered in any of their grime. When the cascade lessened, you shrugged off your coat.

An executioner’s duties, fulfilled by Justice’s blade, you quipped internally, taking another puff from your pipe and humming a popular show tune as you walked into the morning light pouring over the main street.

—

The dark woods and greyed jewel tones of your office highlighted your role well, you speculated as you looked into one of the decorative mirrors on the wall. You cleaned off the small amount of blood that had landed above your shirt collar and along the side of your neck with a damp cloth. Your hair remained perfect, but you still tidied it.

The smooth leather of your tufted armchair was cool underneath you as you removed your dress shoes calmly. With the same damp cloth, you wiped the drying blood off of the black.

You couldn't help but be reminded of the blood on Manon's hands every morning you did this.

Even though it's been over a decade since you last saw her, you could never forget her – especially in your final moments.

It's not like the situation was entirely your fault. A siren needs to convalesce in saltwater. You just didn't expect to take as long as you did, or for Manon to leave for Snezhnaya without you. The memory of watching the ship depart still stung deep to this day. Maybe you simply shouldn't have sent her away at all and let Henri run loose.

A pesky tear fell on the leather of your shoe as your mind filled with needless what-ifs and remembrances.

Your wiping became rougher as you reflected – emotions running high. Quickly, you finished cleaning. Sliding and tying your shoes back on, you rose from your seat, returning to the mirror to straighten your tie.

Grabbing your large leather file folder, you exit your office to aid in presiding over the day's cases, just as you have been for the last three years.

—

A golden haze rested boldly over the wood and metals of the courtroom. Blue and white hair moved animatedly to your left, and a high-pitched voice continued questioning the chief justice in his seat below. You organized your files together again, uncapping your fountain pen and preparing to write down your mental notes on a spare piece of paper. The figure to your left, however, snatched the pen away with slender fingers covered in dark blue gloves.

Furina started giggling to herself as she drew a stick figure in the corner of your paper. She added small details such as hair and little accessories relating to the supposed crime on the figure. It was the suspect for your first case today. Her mischievous laughter continued as she sketched a large axe cut their head off and sent blood spurting out in heavy blotted marks.

You snickered at her behavior before taking your pen back.

“Are you two finished? The court is about to be in session.” Neuvillette queried, his gaze and voice stern.

“Yes,” you replied, placing the file of the first case above your spare paper.

The large doors of the court opened just a minute later, and the unfortunate citizen receiving a trial today walked in with their escort – a new bailiff who had taken Amélie’s role while you were still studying for your bachelor’s degree.

As the chief justice began the proceedings, you pulled Furina’s dagger from your side and turned it to her hilt first.

“Keep it.” she whispered cheekily, elbowing your side lightly, “You are my non-disclosed executioner after all. There’s no telling when I’ll call on you to use it.”

You smiled with a small laugh as you returned the blade to your belt, making eye contact with the chief justice’s scolding gaze.

It reminded you of when you first started working for them, only three years ago.

“You participated in the Place des Marées protest and called for revolution, only to write us a letter twelve years later asking for a position in the Court of Fontaine?” he had asked.

“Yes, I have,” you responded, “But I have the proper qualifications with a deep and vast understanding of Fontainian law. There are not many people in this nation that could say the same.”

He sighed and opened his mouth to speak before being cut off by Furina.

“I would like for you to work with us!”

It did not take long for Neuvillette to come around – although the archon’s say was final.

You still were never quite sure why she accepted your proposal, but you assumed she had plenty of schemes spinning around in her head. There was no doubt that the court most likely knew of your past as well.

The banging of the chief justice’s gavel brought you back to the present, where you noticed that your fountain pen was missing once again. A new sketch sat fresh on your paper of Neuvillette with devil horns. You made playful eye contact with Furina, who snickered to herself.

You took your pen back again and prepared for the next trial as the chief justice’s gaze moved between the two of you with accusation before he sighed and shook his head.

The grand doors opened once more, as the next victim walked in.

—

Cold air permeated through the blue-hued windows covering the main hall of Zapolyarny Palace. Manon’s shoes clicked against the black marble floor, lines of silver and red running through the color. Her quarters were not far from the offices, especially since they were built in the state leader’s wing – one of four branches of the Fatui. Her partner for the coming diplomatic trip had walked in the opposite direction, towards that of the science and research wing.

Minor details, but one of the only things to ponder on these days besides the scheme for the hydro gnosis.

Ever since she left Fontaine that fateful morning, she never looked back – unless she was feeling particularly sentimental.

Regardless, she cast all other thoughts but the mission aside. She had two hours until departure, which gave her plenty of time to pack and review her files before leaving a letter to be sent to the children at her orphanage.

Approaching the tall, dark, looming doors, she nodded at her guards before pushing down on the ornate silver knob and entering her quarters.

~

The briefing with Sandrone and Pierro weighed lightly on Manon’s conscience. The plan was simple enough for a Harbinger to grasp, especially for natives of the nation. As she forcefully opened her large closet, a crimson scarf you gifted her over a decade ago fell from the spot it rested at the top of the closet.

It had been cold that day when you were out in the depths of Brume de Lys, and when you spotted a clothing store you went in and returned with the scarf, saying that the color matched her pupils.

She wanted to burn it.

And yet she couldn’t – ever.

If anything, your memory burned her incapable.

With a shaky huff, she set her hard gaze on her racks of monochrome clothes and the large suitcase resting underneath them all.

~

The agent awaiting her luggage was courteous – a product of training and teaching by the Fatui, no doubt. Plenty of externally sourced agents were put through rigorous exercises to adjust and control their habits and personalities – sometimes it made them new people altogether.

Either way, it was better for the sake of family and success.

The large signature coat of the Harbingers rested around her shoulders, accompanied by a simple all-black ensemble. After all, she would simply be traveling today.

Her fast steps quickly brought her to the main door of the palace, where four guards rested. They noticed her presence immediately and rose to attention to open the door.

A chilling wind greeted Manon, but she had grown used to the intense winter over the years.

She wasted little time in climbing into the large and well-crafted sleigh next to Sandrone, whose fashion always reflected Fontaine well. The driver climbed into the front as the luggage was piled into a car to be taken to the port.

Both the Knave and the Marionette had roles to keep up in the city before they could depart. A display of diplomacy for morale in the Fatui to remain high.

The four black horses guiding the sleigh began to move as the golden-haired woman to Manon's right spoke.

"Where's your timeliness, Arlecchino? Do I need to reprimand you myself?"

"I apologize that I have an existence outside of mechanics and anatomy, Sandrone. And truly, do you believe you have any power over me?"

The woman huffed as she always did when faced with a response other than subordination. Why the Marionette thought of her fellow Harbingers like puppets always made Manon chuckle to herself, especially when she wanted to pick a fight.

Anyone who tried to take on the Knave never fared well, if they even survived at all. But alas, you cannot just have a co-leader disappear in your presence.

The law in Snezhnaya did not operate as it did in Fontaine, after all.

~

The capital was bustling, as it always did in springs following harsh winters. Citizens were out enjoying the less bitter cold while fulfilling errands, working, or visiting with friends and family.

Manon and Sandrone put on smiling faces as they waved at the people, slowly driving through the squares and boasting their value. Cheers and red hellebores were thrown at the two Harbingers. They accepted the praise with grace, waiting patiently for the end of the escapade.

Not only did Vetreny Port await, but so did your hometown, Mélodie des Vagues.

—

The grip of your revolver hit the jaw of the man in front of you with force, causing his teeth to clack together and his head to fall backward.

You always had a particular affinity for the interrogations the Court would ask you to conduct.

A groan sounded throughout the room as you pulled the man back by his hair, revealing his neck. You caved into your thoughts, bringing your fist back before hitting the side of it against his throat.

The man doubled over, gripping at his neck. You brushed a few strands of hair off of your hand, the result of his abrupt movement.

You walked slowly in front of him, bringing his head back by his hair again. He looked at you with fear and spite, but you ignored his attitude and moved his hand away from his throat. Instead, you brought your fingers to trace the sides of his esophagus in a soothing motion.

"Poor you," you whispered, faux condolences in your tone.

The more he looked at you with judgment, the more you wanted to pull his eyes out.

Furina did say to do with him as you wish; Neuvillette permitted you to treat him with whatever you felt he deserved.

A defective Fatui agent, one of a select few people that deserved a punishment of death. There was no love left for those who chose to oppose such an organization. At least that is what the recent Traité d'Exécution dictated, and who were you to now question the law?

You danced the tips of your fingers up his cheek before slightly sinking your fingers in along the sides of his right eye and pinching. He screamed, trying to jostle from where he was secured. His efforts were to no avail. As you pinched harder, you were able to push your fingers further, feeling the gelatinous sensation of his eye beneath your gloves. With a hard pull, his rectus and oblique muscles snapped, along with his optic nerve. Blood began pouring down his cheek from his lax retinal blood vessels as his screams and cries echoed in the room. You placed his eye in a jar of preservative alcohol to be sent back to the Fatui.

The Doctor would be receiving both by noon tomorrow – for a study of course.

—

The boarded stairs leading the Harbingers off of the ship clicked against the dock under Manon's steps. It had been twelve years since she set foot back on the place where she lost you. She paused on the steps, looking out over the sea and the town. It was oddly refreshing to be back home, even if the nation was turbulent.

Sandrone marched down the steps to her right, her lengthy skirts held in her hands. When she reached the dock, she released the light blue fabric and looked up at Manon.

"Are you coming or not, Arle?" she questioned.

"Arle? Have you grown more fond of me over our voyage?" Manon teased.

Sandrone huffed before crossing her arms. "Never. I'm just asking you to move faster – we have a job to do after all."

The Knave stepped onto the dock, "What is the rush for, Sandy? Our meeting with the Court is tomorrow. Are you just excited to be home?"

"Don't call me that, and you know we still have to prepare for the meeting regardless of when it is," she spoke, beginning to walk into town.

"Oh, so you can call me Arle, but I cannot call you Sandy?" Manon retorted, following behind the woman, her long navy tailcoat flowing in the breeze.

"Would you just shut up for five minutes!" Sandrone yelled, causing a smile to grow on the Knave's face.

"It pleases me so to know you still cannot stand me," she verbalized, making Sandrone raise her arms and exclaim in frustration before walking off down the street.

Manon chuckled lightly to herself before strolling in the opposite direction to the inn they would be staying in for the night.

~

The streets of Mélodie des Vagues were hazy at night, the sea mist glowing golden under the lights. Manon's heart ached uncomfortably as she walked, a post-dinner tradition she had come to create during her first few years in the Fatui.

An organization she joined to hopefully become closer to you one day – to find you again. She had to undergo multiple tests of strength, skill, intelligence, and every attribute one would need to scheme, become a warrior, or research and craft relentlessly. She supposed that maybe her phoenix nature helped her become one of the Harbingers, but no person that met her ever doubted her capability.

It was unfortunate that she all too quickly became addicted to the power and control the organization brought, but the deep-seated version of her – one that was more devious and craving – thought it nothing but spectacular.

"Where do you think you're walking, mademoiselle?"

Manon turned her head, looking at the sharply dressed man in front of an oil company office.

The man brought the end of his decorated cane to a sign along one of the posts.

"Can you not read? It says 'no trespassing'."

Manon sighed to herself.

Not tonight.

"I'm not on your lot, monsieur, so I'll walk wherever I please."

The man looked at her with annoyance as she turned and continued down the street, not wanting any further altercation. However, her sharpened hearing could tell he was following her.

With another sigh, she turned down a small and dark sidestreet. The man followed.

When she reached the middle, she turned around to face him. He seemed momentarily surprised, but there was no point to it. She removed her gloves carefully, tucking them into her pocket. At least she was out of the Fontaine-colored clothes she would need for tomorrow's meeting.

The man began to speak, but he was quickly cut off by her clawed hand moving across his face. As she ripped and burned the man apart, she couldn't help but think of Henri.

That little fucker.

If it weren't for his interference, perhaps you could have gone to Snezhnaya together as you planned. Matured and found a place in the nation. Maybe she would still be in the Fatui, but you would be there by her side.

In her frustrations, she did not notice the witness in the street.

When she did, however, it was due to a flash going off.

What an amateur.

She quickly made her way to the figure, smashing the camera and slitting their throat before clawing away at them simply for her pleasure.

With a finalizing huff, she licked the blood from her fingers, the same craving version of her enjoying the metallic taste.

She left the street with red-covered hands, but it is not as if any person in this town was not used to the sight. Even if they weren't, nobody but those already deceased would question a Harbinger.

—

As you walked into the court to begin your day, you were greeted by the buzzing chatter of Furina. It was a normal occurrence, but something about today seemed different.

“The reports we were given said that the bodies were shredded and charred with blood sprayed across the buildings! Do you know what this means?!”

Neuvillette simply hummed as he organized a large stack of papers, yet another odd element. The cases you dealt with never required so many pieces of evidence.

When your steps began echoing through the court, the archon’s cerulean gaze was cast down onto you with surprise.

“Good morning, Minister.” the chief justice greeted.

“A lovely one to you as well,” you replied, trying to ignore the excited and piercing gaze of the “jury” on your back.

Ascending the staircase to your shared booth, your thoughts began to wander. Shredded and charred remains… the only other event displaying the same method was the murder of the hunters and Henri… all of which were murdered by none other than…

Manon.

You paused on the top of the steps, bringing Furina’s eyes to you.

But it couldn’t be… right? She had left the nation twelve years ago, and it seemed she would never be coming back.

“Where did the murders occur?” you questioned the archon as you walked to sit beside her.

“Your hometown, Mélodie des Vagues,” she replied, adjusting her own set of files on the small table between the two of you.

You froze in your seat.

The town was not only the most popular port coming in from Snezhnaya but the last place you saw her.

Anxiety caused your stomach to turn while a happy thrill caused your heart to soar.

“Our first case today will not be a trial, but rather a meeting,” Neuvillette announced.

The archon nodded as your brow raised. You were only prepared for the trials of the day, and this was the first you were hearing of a meeting.

“No need to worry, Minister. Furina has the documents you will need.” he continued. 

You settled into your seat, blood oddly racing.

The doors to the courtroom opened, and two Fatui guards entered. You kept your composure, not wanting to disturb the moment.

Two sets of heels clicked on the hard floor as golden brown hair and various blue shades came into view. You felt your heart in your fingertips as you waited.

Familiar monochrome and carmine hair appeared in a lovely deep blue, black, and silver three-piece.

You couldn’t help but bring your hand to rest on the low bar in front of you, placing your file holder to the side.

There stood Manon.

She greeted the chief justice gracefully with her coworker before turning to your booth high above.

A small gasp left you as you made eye contact with her striking gaze. Shock, sadness, and want were etched in her eyes beneath the cold exterior – something you could always view past.

Even after twelve years, she still looked as beautiful as the day you met. Likely even more.

The figure to her right tapped her arm, saying something about focusing on the task at hand. Furina opened the first file. Manon turned around.

There were so many things you wanted to say – so many conversations you needed to have. So much lost time to make up for.

Any concern for why Manon was with the Fatui faded to grey as your mind was occupied with two things.

Speak to her, and make sure she never leaves again.

#coff writes for genshin🍵 #ahhbshc #and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino #fatui arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #neuvillette genshin #genshin x reader #genshin fontaine #genshin focalors #fatui harbingers #genshin impact fatui

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

Thank you, Dream! This was so sweet, I really appreciate it! <333

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[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒊𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕

chapter IV of and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest

Pairing: Teenage!Arlecchino x gn!Teenage!Reader

Genres: angst, light hurt/comfort, politics & law, friends to lovers

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: themes of corruption and crime, violence, graphic depictions of murder, blood, mild angst

1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6 | epilogue

~~~

The near-silence of the market square left a foreboding sensation on the back of your neck. Signs of dark shades broadcasted closed, a stark contrast to your previous visit. The reason for it was not unbeknownst to you however, as word of a protest at Place des Marées had haunted you since you left the orphanage with Manon just an hour earlier.

Things had changed in Fontaine during the last three weeks, and whether they were for better or worse had yet to be seen. Civil unrest had risen, and citizens were making their thoughts known to the establishments of justice here in the capital. Whispers of reconnaissance by the court and hidden resistances had circulated the streets; there was no doubt that both were watching.

Although part of you felt trepidation at the uprising, another part of you was eager to witness it.

With this in mind, you said, “There is practically no point in shopping today, we might as well leave.”

Manon huffed and stopped walking, her long dark coat hitting the back of her calves abruptly. “I suppose so.”

You crossed the small cobblestone street and took her hand in yours. You could tell there was a keen glint in your eye, causing your partner to raise her eyebrow.

“Would you take note of the open shops? We will stop and buy what we can before going back to the orphanage, but for now, I’d like to join those at the Place des Marées.”

“Of course, boss.” she teased, “And we will keep half of the money for ourselves, too.”

“Of course, boss.” you reiterated with a joyful smirk, enjoying the brief moment.

“We can’t both be in charge, __.” she quipped, reciprocating your expression though to a lesser degree.

“Maybe so, but do you expect for me to just let you be the boss?”

“No, but I do expect for you to give in to my demands.”

With a small huff, you shook your head and rounded a corner.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she smirked, causing heat to rise to your cheeks as you continued walking to the Place des Marées.

—

Any light-hearted atmosphere dissipated once you arrived at the square. A large crowd of people were dispersed around the area, some standing or sitting, and others shouting or holding a sign. Cries for those falsely convicted, those unfairly sentenced, those without proper representation, and those given no trial to receive freedom and rightful justice rang out through the citizens. Officers sat at the ready in front of the courthouse and around the crowd.

The various shades of grey in the sky rumbled, but no one seemed to mind.

You weaved through the crowd with Manon's hand still in yours, trying to get to the center of it all.

The middle of the square housed a large gold statue of the current chief justice. His stoic countenance looked down on the citizens from his large booth, creating a feeling of disdain in your chest.

"How long have you been here?" you asked someone sitting on the stone base circle of the statue's planter box.

"About 2 hours, but over half of the people have been here for 3."

"I see. Thank you."

There was no doubt that by the fourth hour, the number of enforcements would have doubled.

Manon tugged on your hand, bringing your gaze back to her fiery eyes. Her sharp, angled pupils appeared like lines of fresh lava across hardened rock, making your previous trepidation vanish upon seeing her determination. She released your hand before climbing up onto the stone planter box and reaching out for you. You took her hand once more and let her aid in bringing you up to her side. The motions repeated, and you felt eyes boring into your back as you stood on the statue's lap beside Manon.

From where you stood you could see out across the entire square, and you wondered if Neuvillette’s eyes could see the entire city from where he gazed.

“May I please have your attention!” Manon demanded, immediately sending thousands of eyes her way.

Your eyes were torn between her and the audience, but you felt it best to observe her spectacle.

"People of Fontaine! We have felt the repercussions of the unjust actions of those leading us for far too long. Every single one of you standing here now is here because your life has been altered due to this. The crimes of people like him," she began, pointing up to the chief justice's face, "have proceeded to shed our blood and trap us in cells, factories, or filth, while newspapers are given false reports or bought off. Our archon treats us like toys – as if we are not beings but puppets, existing simply for her hedonistic ends. Enough is enough! There is no need for such fault and fodder anymore if it can only exist like this!"

Cheers and shouts of support sounded from below you as Manon grabbed your hand and sent a solid, affirming gaze your way – the blaze of fury in her eyes bright as ever.

You turned to the expectant crowd, lifting your joint hands and shouting, "May today mark the beginning of the end of our plight! Vive la révolution!"

Thunder clapped once more and rain began falling. Citizens reciprocated the action as officers closed in, their numbers increased just as you had thought. It seemed time was up. Reporters and spies finished their duties before leaving the square in conspicuous and inconspicuous ways. The details of the scene faded as proud and emboldened shades of black and red came into view once more.

Manon was something secure amidst the instability of the nation's climates – her never-ending drive infectious and her leadership inspiring. You couldn't help but wonder just how influential she could become.

—

The bright aureate rays of the sunset sent a golden glow across the many dirtied fruits sprawling out from your heavy wicker basket, laying tipped over and rocking lightly back and forth. Your feet pounded against the cobblestone, worry falling on your features as Manon raced ahead of you. She had voiced suspicions about the atmosphere surrounding the orphanage, and as you got closer she appeared more on edge, sending a nervous feeling into your stomach.

The front door was left slightly ajar, and Manon had swung it fully open, rushing into the entryway. Her head shifted in multiple directions before she turned halfway back to you.

The building was oddly silent. There was no trace of any person, the children's belongings organized about now gone. All that remained were the director's decorations. It was unnerving – the stark difference in the building when all of the kids were gone.

Light heeled footsteps echoed down the main hall as a figure in a blue and white frilled dress entered your view.

"What happened here?" Manon asked the director, looking over at her with accusation.

“Le Commerce Quinquennal.” Vivienne replied simply, walking between you both to the large mahogany door. 

“What is that?” you questioned, turning around to watch the director’s precise movements.

“Something neither of you will ever have to worry about,” she said, leveling her gaze with yours. “Now please… go pick up that poor produce and bring it to the kitchen for me.”

You watched her as you walked out of the door, blood thrumming through your veins. You heard Manon’s sharp voice interrogate the director, but her avoidant quips in response were quickly ending the conversation.

As you picked up the dusty fruits and vegetables, you started formulating a plan to discover what this orphanage was.

—

Low light cast dubious shadows over the light blue walls of the main hall. Vivienne’s office sat at the end, the dark door ominous. Her bedroom was only one room down from where you stayed with Manon, both of them on opposite sides in the middle of the long hall.

After discussing your ideas with Manon the previous night, you were ready to move forward with what you concurred was the best current option.

Investigating the Director’s office.

You stepped out into the hall first, facing her tall door and the light still peeking out from beneath it. Keeping your breath low and footsteps light, you walked along the wall to her door before beckoning Manon to follow. You pulled out a spare bobby pin you had found in the bedroom – it would be simple enough to pick an inside door. You had done it plenty of times before.

After inserting the pin into the lock, you heard the sharp click that signified the door was unlocked. You looked behind you at Manon and nodded quickly before gazing behind her at Vivienne’s door.

Still closed.

You rapidly opened the door before shutting and locking it quietly behind you both.

~

Manon remained silent as she walked directly to the director’s desk, sorting through the papers neatly stacked on top of it. You stood watch by the door, yet still attempted to sort through her nearby bookshelf to see if you could find anything of note. She had been in this room a few times before, the first being when she initially arrived. You put her in charge of investigating the areas that were likely to contain the most answers due to that.

The only papers on the surface that could hold any meaning were the orphanage’s funds. Since you were visiting the market today, it was likely that Vivienne wanted to review what the establishment had. What piqued Manon’s interest the most were the payments deposited into the funds and occasionally to Vivienne herself. They were from a person marked as nothing but Captain, with a few from the Jester. They were simple titles, but they sparked an out-of-place remembrance.

“Have you ever heard of the Captain or the Jester?” she asked you with a whisper.

You looked at her quizzically, but there was a hint of familiarity in your eyes that she could see even in the dim light.

“No,” you replied with a slight shake of your head, turning back to go through the books once more.

It was a lie, but she was unsure of your motives to do so.

She placed the book of finances down, moving onto the large drawers along the sides of the desk. She pulled out the first, unveiling labeled manilas of the orphanage’s past deals and business. There was a file longly marked SN-F. LCQ. CoF-OdlFS. Manon knew what the abbreviations meant.

Upon setting the file on the desk’s surface and opening it, she was greeted by papers, contracts, and court reports showing a history of scheming since the orphanage was created.

Snezhnaya had an agreement with Fontaine that laid out the formation of Le Commerce Quinquennal. Factories would be established in Snezhnaya that would allow for Fontaine to use a portion of the nation’s resources for their own gain while sending “convicts” to the factories as workers. In turn, Orphelinat de la Fleuve Sinueux would be established in Fontaine for Snezhnaya among a couple of other orphanages. Children would be purposefully sent to them to be taken care of and raised while gaining life experience. Every five years, the children from the orphanage would be exchanged with Snezhnaya for a select group of workers equal in number to the group of children.

Manon’s thoughts were racing as she quickly gathered the information and placed it back into its spot in the drawer. She closed it and leaned down to open the second, her nerves on edge.

“We’re still clear,” you spoke, picking up on her growing stress.

She ignored you as she looked over the files, seeing both yours and hers with the rest of the children’s. In a moment of impaired judgment, she removed your file and opened it on Vivienne’s chair. She already knew things from your past, but she did not expect to find what she did.

Your father was an agent for the Fatui who would monitor their port deliveries and dealings along the Côte des Pêcheurs, making him the one locally in charge of the eastern coastal regions.

Manon looked up and made eye contact with you.

Light steps could be heard approaching the room.

Her mind was jumbled, but she still shoved your file back into the drawer before securing the organization of the desk and taking your hand. She brought you behind the couch to hide, taking the safer precaution than hiding behind Vivienne’s desk.

The sound of a key turning and the door opening filled her with an uncomfortable fear.

The older woman huffed as she approached her desk, retrieving the finance book and one of her pens, as well as a small stack of papers. She looked out at the room with a focus on the fireplace.

"Furina and her contumelious remarks," the director uttered, "When will she simply let me be."

Manon's eyebrows furrowed as she heard Vivienne's statement. Perhaps the archon and the director were on worse terms than she suspected.

As the door latched shut, Manon listened to the receding echo of footsteps and lightly shook her head.

She leveled her gaze with yours, noticing the odd appearance of fight in your eyes.

"We have to escape – now or never." you voiced, something unnerving now swimming in your glossy eyes.

"I agree," Manon responded, observing the rise of derangement in your demeanor. It seemed that she was not the only one who had made a shocking and terrible discovery.

—

The murky night was hardly visible through the glared glass of the train car.

Your escape was successful, but it was only the beginning of your journey. Gathering your belongings and sneaking out of the orphanage was simple, but navigating the dark alleyways to the train station was tedious. Luckily, you were skilled in avoiding officers.

The train station was hesitant to provide you and Manon with tickets on a midnight car, but with a few extra dollars, they did not bat an eye. Neither did the conductor or the attendants, who should have noticed you after the speech at the square the previous day.

Most of the city did, you realized, as those not in attendance would have seen newspapers headlined ‘Les Fous Perfides', Marie Donnadieu and __ __, call for revolution at Place des Marées protest, just as you did on your trek here.

The smooth movements of dark water rested underneath the sturdy glass floor of the train car as it ran along the eastbound aqueduct. You were returning to the Côte des Pêcheurs in order to find a fisherman or travel boat that would take you across the Mer Glacée to the Vetreny Port in Snezhnaya.

—

As you exit the train car and descended the stone steps, you came face to face with your hometown, Mélodie des Vagues. Your family had a mixed reputation here, with some people thinking well of your parents and others terribly. You took Manon’s hand as you walked the familiar streets, being reminded of the past at every turn. Some shopkeepers and Fatui agents gave you welcoming smiles in hope of a word or two, but your steeled gaze kept them away. While you usually would have felt guilty for the needless abrasiveness, you had a goal in mind that was on limited time.

You knew Manon could perceive the situation well from beside you, but you had to bury your doubts and fears of her questioning more about your background. 

The longer you spent in the town, the more danger you were in.

You couldn’t share everything with Manon, even if you wanted to. The secrets of your family were to be taken to the grave, especially after your mother’s death.

Vivienne knew half of them somehow, but with what you read in her diary, you could tell she had some history with your parents. Why she never gave you any hint of your connection, you could not guess, but from what you read and knew of her, she was an expert in facade.

You were not far from the dock by now – all you needed to find was someone who would bring you to the land of eternal winter. You stopped to ask a few people sitting along crates, but they would not be loading up and leaving until sunrise, something that was still two hours away. That would be far too long to wait.

There was a sign propped up nearby showing the times of arrival and departure for passenger ships, but one would not be arriving for three hours, and the other would not be departing until noon.

With no other people close to their ships or you, you decided to ask an angler sorting through their supplies if they could take you to Snezhnaya. They said yes, and that they would be leaving with their crew in fifteen minutes.

It was your only option.

You heard nothing from Manon beside you, and looking at her features you could see a storm brewing.

Bringing one of your hands to cup her cheek, you rubbed your thumb over the arch.

“Speak your mind, Manon,” you whispered.

She looked apprehensive, yet still brought her hand to rest over your wrist before sighing in reluctance.

“I have discovered many unpleasant things tonight, and I am simply trying to sort through them all, ma lumière.”

You hummed, “So have I. When we leave this place, we will have all of the time in the world to figure it out together.”

“I suppose so.” she voiced with a small smile, rubbing her own thumb over the prominent veins of your wrist.

You watched as her eyes softened slightly, before moving over your shoulder and instantly hardening.

You raised an eyebrow and turned your head to follow her line of sight. Waiting for you was a tall figure wrapped in a dark coat with a hand resting heavily on a silver-laced cane. One of their eyes was scarred in a manner that was all too familiar to you.

“What do you want, Henri?” you asked him sternly.

“You know why I am here, __.” he replied, taking a step forward.

Manon brought her arm in front of you, trying to shield you from the threat. You pushed her arm down and took another step forward to match his.

“The death of your father had nothing to do with me. That was simply the business between our parents and you know this.”

“Yet their business still became ours didn’t it?” they queried, tilting their head. “If it were not for your petty little siren tricks, I would not still be facing the difficulties that I am now.”

“Your self-hatred has never been an issue involving me. The only reason you are facing these difficulties is because you attacked me years ago with this same belief.”

He took another step forward. “Where’s your brother, __? Did he finally leave you too?”

Manon tugged you back to her.

“You’re well connected, Henri, you should know.”

He chuckled dryly before standing taller. Within one swift movement, he had pulled a pistol of pyro from his coat and shot it straight through your heart.

~

Manon watched wide-eyed as you fell to your knees on the damp dock. The nearby citizens were panicked, but some were too afraid to move. She assumed this show of violence was not an uncommon occurrence here.

“The siren’s one weakness – fire straight into a heart of water.” Henri whispered as they turned and began fleeing the scene.

Manon was shocked by the news of your nature, and increasingly worried about your health as she knew very little of what one would need to recover from such a drastic injury. All that Atlas had ever taught her about the species was that although they had blood, it was severely watered down due to the fact that the chambers of their heart were created from the sea.

“What do you need?” she questioned, hands moving over you unceremoniously.

You grasped at your throat and chest, almost unable to speak. “End… him…” you voiced dryly.

Manon shook her head, “I’m not leaving you here.”

You moved a hand to her shoulder, gripping it tightly. Your gaze met hers, and she instantly felt compelled to hear your every word.

“Go,” you said sadly.

She did.

Henri had not gotten very far, at least for the speed at which Manon was silently traveling. She grasped his shoulder and threw them into the nearest alley. His body landed with a thump, their cane rolling into another metallic object obscured in darkness. She heard none of their words as she began tearing at his face, leaving shreds of bloodied and burnt flesh on the stone ground. Their screams were soon silenced as Manon made her way down his body, blindly and furiedly completing the task she was given. It had been years since she last treated someone this way, but a part of her deep inside missed the thrill and brutality of it.

No one came searching for him, or to investigate the situation.

~

Manon returned to the dock, blood dripping from her clawed fingertips and her clothes. Sinew was stuck under her fingernails, and parts of her coat were burned.

None of it mattered to her, though, as you were not there waiting for her at the dock. In fact, there was no one remaining.

She ran through nearby buildings, gaining many stares as she did so. She tore through supplies and crates with no regard for the property. She looked over the docked ships, but still to no avail.

Finally, she looked down into the water that now began to lighten with the blossoming sunrise. Tears began to rise in her eyes for the first time in a month, her mind reeling from the day and her heart aching.

You were either dead or gone. And she failed to protect you or help you when you needed it most.

But why would you send her away? Was it all a lie? Or were you afraid of her realizing the reality of your life?

None of it mattered to her anymore. All she wanted was to find you again.

#and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest #ahhbshc #coff writes for genshin🍵 #genshin arlecchino #fatui arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #fatui harbingers #the knave #genshin #genshin spoilers #fontaine

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

While I'm still working on my Arlecchino series, I do have a question for my next potential fic idea:

#coff surveys

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

Thank you for the tag! <3

I've been listening to Sade while writing today and realizing how long it's been since I've listened to this album; this song has no vocals, but it is beautifully crafted!

tagging: @mochimiyaas @ranger-from-the-north @dreamkidddream @livingforteaandorange

tagged by @celeryw to post the last song i listened to

ah shit this is embarrasing

tagging @unicodepepper @xxsdelphia @yuiaka and anyone who wants to (im sorry I'm so bad at remembering my mutuals' urls)

#coff's reblogs #remy☆

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍

chapter III of and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest

Pairing: Teenage!Arlecchino x gn!Teenage!Reader

Genres: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: alluded prisoner mistreatment, mentions of fire and burns, murder, violence, brief nightmare

1 | 2 | 4 | 5 | 6 | epilogue

~~~

5 YEARS AGO

The underground cells of Brume de Lys’ superior court carried a stifling and scrambling feeling. Your motivations for visiting them only added to the stress you were experiencing as you hurriedly traveled the halls. Your father was being kept here somewhere, and you were determined to find him. The light padding of your feet against the stone echoed your heartbeat as your shadow moved under the dim lighting. You turned down a darker hallway, looking up at some of the bulbs that had blown out. While you were momentarily distracted, a hand seized yours.

You pivoted, shocked, trying to remove your hand from the stranger’s clawed grip.

“Could…” the stranger began, before swallowing and clearing their throat. “Could you get me some water, please?”

Black and red eyes looked at you heavily under the faint light, exhaustion evident in their tired gaze. Long white and dark grey hair fell messily over their shoulders, and you felt even more surprised upon recognizing how young the stranger was.

“Do you have something for me to put the water in?” you whispered, coming closer to their cell.

They looked stunned for a moment, before releasing your hand and rapidly turning around, tearing through the few objects in the cell and casting grey ashes into the air. By some miracle, they returned with a cup.

“Can you keep a secret for me?” you asked, sliding your hand through the bars.

The stranger looked apprehensive before nodding.

With their affirmation, you summoned a steady stream of water into their cup. Their eyes grew increasingly relieved, and when the flow finished they eagerly drank from the cup. Your view drifted behind them for a moment and you noticed a peculiar singe to their mattress. It seemed that part of their hair was burnt too, you realized as you refilled their cup. You wondered if it was a punishment or an involvement with pyro.

Despite the contrast of your elements, something about them seemed complimentary to you.

~

You had spent a week observing the guard’s schedule at the cells, your mind not able to rest after meeting the stranger. A small satchel hung over your shoulders containing various supplies and necessities you might need for your visit today.

The doors wouldn’t relock until a maximum of ten seconds passed, so when a guard quickly left through one of the heavy doors, you made your move and snuck in. The interior of the cells was patrolled less often than the exterior, or maybe it was simply just the area you were in. You did your best to follow a familiar path throughout the halls, but you were truly unsure of where you were. That is until a familiar clawed hand grasped for you again.

“You’re back,” they said, a hint of disbelief in their tone.

“I am,” you replied reassuringly. “Though I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to stay.”

You moved to open your satchel and the stranger let go of your hand. You pulled out a small quart canteen and passed it through the bars before pulling out a pair of scissors you had stolen from the barber.

“Would you like me to trim your hair? I saw the ends were singed.” you queried.

The stranger took a break from drinking, their brows slightly furrowed, “I would like that,” they replied sincerely. Turning around, they gave you the minimal access available to their dirtied white hair.

You took small sections in your hand, doing your best to provide a decent cut in the limited time you had. By the time you finished, their hair was partly leveled near their shoulders. You did your best to lean down and gather the trimmings, placing them haphazardly in your satchel before spreading the remaining bits around with your hands and shoes, trying to hide the evidence. The stranger's hands passed through the bars again, giving you back the canteen before curling around the metal.

You placed the supplies back into your satchel before looking back up at their hands. Light burns contrasted with the jet-black skin, and you asked if they would like you to apply an ointment. They said yes. You pulled out a small cream-filled jar and opened it, taking one of their hands in yours and spreading the cream over afflicted areas. When you moved on to the next, their voice sounded again.

“Thank you for helping me.”

You glanced up at their face, seeing a small spark of light in their formerly void eyes.

“You’re welcome,” you responded, happy that your kindness could help.

~

The arrangement continued on like that for three weeks, with you arriving twice a week and always with something new. You would bring water, food you could scrounge up, and ointment with you, but by the second week of your visits, you brought pamphlets you had stolen from the city bookstore. They shared local politics, updates on world events, and the opinions of those popular in high society. It was something the stranger, Manon, as they shared, had quickly grown interested in. It was endearing – the way they would excitedly share some of the information with you and ask for your thoughts. Your visits served as an escape for you both, but three weeks later, something changed.

A new prisoner was in their cell. You asked the new suspect where they might have gone but received no answer. You left distressed that day and waited for a report in the press as to what had happened. There was no update on their case during any research you attempted to pursue. It was as if they didn’t even exist. 

Three years later, you had mostly forgotten about them, unfortunately too busy with the city’s growing struggles to dwell on a childhood friend.

—

PRESENT DAY

The morning light shone glittery across the Fleuve Sinueux’s surface, the light breeze flowing by scattering its reflection. There were a few other civilians scattered about the riverbank, wanting to find a fresh catch to cook or sell. Today you were assigned with Manon to do the same for the orphanage.

You sat next to her on a large tree root with a small picnic basket of snacks and a cooling container with shaved ice for the fish. Your rods were secured in the dirt just before you, but while you were busy watching them, Manon was occupied with a silver and red book. It was entitled A Compendious History of Fontainian and Snezhnayan Relations. You looked at her curiously, and after noticing your gaze, she closed the book around her index finger. 

“I see you still enjoy political science.” you teased.

“I believe I have you to blame for that,” she replied, a small smirk on her face as she looked out at the fleuve.

“Maybe you do,” you said, following her view of the winding water.

It was silent between you for a moment, before you asked, “Why Fontaine and Snezhnaya?”

She hummed before looking up at the leaves of the tree you were under. “I was born along the border of the two – you could say that’s why I am interested in their history together.” She paused. “I chose this book because I was curious to know how intertwined their economies were since they’re both the most technologically advanced nations.”

You smiled at her interest reminiscently before feeling an itch growing on your cheek. You reached up to gently rub it, trying not to disturb the scab that formed just a day ago. Manon looked over at you apologetically before the jolting of the fishing rod drew her attention back to the water. 

She quickly placed her book on top of the basket before rising while you rolled up the legs of your pants. She grabbed the rod and tugged it back, revealing a truite ambrée wiggling around in the shallow waters. You stepped into the chilled water, grabbing the fish behind its gill plate with one hand and placing the other along its belly.

Manon set down the rod as you continued supporting the fish in the water. She came back from her satchel with a small pair of scissors to cut the unfortunately deep swallowed line. After she did, you quickly lifted the fish from the water and calmly placed it in the mesh cage you had placed in the river earlier.

After wiping your hands over your pants, you decided to step a bit further into the water, looking for rocks or any little fish that might catch your eye while enjoying the weather. Your companion returned to the tree root not far from you, opening the basket and picking out a slice of pain de campagne and a handful of red grapes. She soon returned to the mesh basket to observe the truite ambrée more closely while enjoying the snack.

You stepped further into the water, looking down through the clear blue at small vairon swimming and feeding around the rocks. Something about being in the water always made you feel more level-headed, and sometimes feeling more level-headed ignited an insightful flame in your thoughts.

Those insightful thoughts couldn’t help but drift to your company, and you found yourself turning to her with a question that seemed oddly heavy for a peaceful morning.

“Do you ever imagine what our lives would be like if we were never sent to the orphanage?”

She looked at you surprised before her features solemnly mellowed. “Retrospect is something I like to avoid.” 

Her answer slightly dampened your mood, but you felt your heart beat faster as she moved closer in your direction with her toes in the water.

“Do you ever think about running away?” she asked quietly.

"Sometimes," you began, "but I've never known where I would go."

She hummed before voicing, "We could go to Snezhnaya."

"We?" you questioned stunned.

“Yes, we,” she responded simply as if the two of you together were something as clear as the river flowing around you. “I’ve been saving up money leftover from visits to the markets or individual shops to eventually leave this place. We can both use it, and we’ll get more at the next month’s shopping trip as well.” She took another step toward you, coming within arms reach. “Snezhnaya is close by, and I have the greatest understanding of the nation compared to others – besides Fontaine.”

“Then I suppose the bitter winter will be seeing us soon,” you spoke, mind racing at the prospect.

Manon smiled small, the sunlight filtering through the trees making her white hair glow. She seemed proud and almost elated – a pair of emotions that contrasted her sharp and dark features, and yet they still looked beautiful.

The excited voice of a young boy drew your attention back to the expanse of the river, where a few dozen small étoile volantes d’eau douce sparkled as they flew in and out of the water. It was a mesmerizing sight, and every person along the riverbank stopped their activities to watch it. A warm pinky linking with yours returned your gaze to your friend who had come to stand beside you. Her gaze didn’t stray from the scene, but you could see a light rose color dusted across the inner arch of her cheeks.

Although the city was approaching madness, you could feel sheltered from it all here, and that was enough of a motivation for you to entirely hold her hand with yours.

—

The few night stars twinkled brightly from their hardly visible places in the never-ending sky. Snow fell delicately with a harsh wind, disrupting the gentle scenery. Flames coated the hearth, reflecting on the windows of the cabin from which Manon gazed outside. Her clawed index and thumb fingers rolled a small jar of ashes hanging from her neck. It was a solemn reminder of a few years past – the only memory she had of her parent.

She watched as her guardian, Atlas, chopped more wood outside before gathering it and walking to the door. It was already unlocked, so she did not shift from her seat at the far end of the short dining table. Wood clobbered onto the floor and her guardian sighed.

Manon’s eyebrows furrowed upon seeing two unusual figures trekking to their cabin through the snow.

“Who’s out there?” she asked, turning around to look at Atlas.

They quickly moved to close the front door and lock it shut before joining her by the window. Their features were covered in suspicion and worry, making her feel increasingly uncomfortable. 

Carmine eyes met hers as they spoke, “Stay here. Lower yourself and do not move unless you feel it is necessary.”

Their aureate and ochre hair was slowly falling out of its tie as Atlas reached for their axe and opened the door. They hardly stepped out of it, wanting to be in front of the house but not too close to the figures.

Manon watched nervously from where she was crouched beneath the window. Her heart was racing and she began sweating. She saw Atlas speaking to the visitors, most likely hunters from the way they were dressed. Still, no hunters ever came to the top of Montagne de Charbon due to the rumors spread of it in the surrounding towns – then again, maybe it was the rumors that drew them in.

Yells and sharp clashing caused her nerves to spike, and her stomach to begin flipping. She rose from her spot and ran to the corner alongside the door. She stared into the hearth from her windowless and sheltered position, listening to the chaos unfolding outside. The cabin was cast in a yellow light from the outside, prompting a chill to run up her spine.

Atlas had either transformed or been murdered.

She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure and prepare for the upcoming confrontation.

“Come on out, little phoenix, we know you’re in there!”

She huffed at the pathetic teasing, steeling herself for the unfortunate act she would have to commit.

The scene that greeted her when she walked out caused her eyes to widen. Blood was scattered across the pale snow, and the two hunters looked to be substantially injured. A figure of ash lay troubled on the icy ground, causing Manon’s countenance to harden upon realizing her guardian’s fate.

The voice of one of the hunters slowly drowned out as her black and red eyes became overridden with flaming carmine irises and sclera of shadow. A crown of white light showed from her scalp as her clawed black hands dripped in flames. Feathered blazing wings of ivory and gunmetal emerged from behind her.

Within three steps, she was in front of the hunters. Fire and blood cascaded over the landscape, painting and melting the snow. It was a quick process – one that the hunters stood no chance to combat in their shape. The charred shreds of their being were spread across the small plain in front of her home. Her right arm came to rest at her side as she exhaled heavily.

The incandescent state of her being tempered as she came to stand before Atlas’ ashes, her wings folding behind her.

She knew that phoenixes were immortal – it was a fact that daunted her many nights – but it still didn't quell her nerves. She exhaled shakily and uncorked the small jar hanging from her neck, bringing it down and scooping a small number of her guardian’s ashes into the jar before sealing it again.

Manon let the tears resting at the edges of her eyes fall as she jumped from the nearby cliff, flying down from her past into the town below. The one that would see her covered in blood and call her a murderer. The people that would investigate and burn her home, sending word of the scene to the nearest city who would come and take her away to her cell underneath the superior court. The place that would mistreat her and abandon her with Vivienne.

Manon startled awake with a quiet gasp, sitting up and kicking the pale bedsheet off of her body. She ran her hand over her forehead, moving the hair stuck to her forehead out of her vision. Sweat and tears coated her face and she felt the pressing urge to find fresh air.

~

It was never hard to sneak into the orphanage’s gardens, especially at night. Beneath her favorite oak tree, she had the best view of the blue stargazer lilies she had planted back in the early spring. Moonlight poured delicately through the leaves of the tree, highlighting the lilies in blanched azure. She sighed unsteadily, crossing her arms and leaning her head back onto the solid wood.

“Are you alright?” a soft voice asked from her left.

Her startled eyes moved to you, unsurely looking at her from the cobblestone path.

“Yes, I am,” she replied curtly before averting her gaze.

“You don’t sound very sure,” you shot back, walking through the smooth grass to sit beside her.

She huffed as your head fell gently onto her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you queried calmly.

She leaned her head lightly onto yours as she whispered, “I suppose.”

It was an incredibly vulnerable moment for Manon – and a situation she was unused to – yet she felt secure enough with you to finally share what led her to the cell where you met five years ago. As she did, she felt your hand encompass hers once again, just as it did the previous day at the fleuve. Your kindness continued to show, and it was both reassuring and terrifying.

She finished her story with a deep breath, her body shaking lightly from the weakening nerves of her emotions.

“Thank you for sharing with me, Manon,” you said tenderly, running your thumb over her palm. She sniffled quietly, wiping her right cheek.

You swallowed heavily, and she took note of your diverted gaze.

With an exhale, you voiced a story of your own, “When I first met you, I was originally searching the cells for my father. We had lived in a seaside town along the Côte des Pêcheurs up until five and a half years ago. My family was involved in shady business and those deeds drove one of my father’s competitors to murder my mother. He struck back, but at that point, it was too late. My father gave me and my older brother one day to gather our belongings before he moved us here to Brume de Lys. Only two months later he was taken away by the authorities. The man who killed my mother had framed him for the crime. The only news I had gotten of his fate was by word of mouth from insiders. Fake evidence was provided to news publications and they spoke of him being sent to prison for two consecutive life sentences when actually, he was sent to a Fontainian factory located in Snezhnaya – possibly even the same one my brother is at now. That was why I was so interested in why you were studying their relations, as the link between them is even deeper than I thought.”

Manon squeezed your hand as she breathed out. She knew both nations were deeply connected – that the essence of everlasting winter was the smoke of the factory. Nonetheless, it did not ease her revelations.

“I am so very sorry that you had to go through that. I appreciate your telling me.” she voiced near silently, placing a cautious kiss on the crown of your head.

Wordlessly, Manon rose from her seat at the tree, reaching out a hand to you. Taking it, you stood up and fully intertwined your fingers, allowing her to lead you inside and warily navigate through the halls. Soon enough, you were back at your bedside.

“May I stay with you?”

Your question was a surprise to her, but she gave in, letting you crawl into her small bed. Your hands remained together as you laid side by side. When she heard light snores, she finally looked over at your resting features in the pale moonlight, her thoughts racing.

Besides Atlas and Lucette, you were the only one who had ever shown her true benevolence.

Soon enough, her notions became increasingly simple – she had already lost you once, and she was not planning on losing you again.

#and her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest #ahhbshc #coff writes for genshin🍵 #genshin arlecchino #fatui arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #fatui harbingers #the knave #genshin #genshin spoilers

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

Very fun. But it's not enough. Let me make something clear: you think of yourselves as "magicians", but when you're on the stage you're first and foremost actors. Good actors hone their craft to mesmerize the whole crowd.

#I KNOWWWW #MY WHOLE DAY HAS BEEN MADE #I SPENT THE WHOLE MORNING SCREAMING AND KICKING MY FEET #HAVING A LESBIAN ASS HEART ATTACK #SHE COULD STEP ON ME AND I WOULD SAY THANK YOU -- ANYDAY #coff's reblogs #ahhbshc