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knavesflames · 16 hours
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𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙡𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 ༊*·˚
i wanted to make another silly combo post, so here we are. just a dump of ideas about genshin wlw threesomes i'd love to see ♡
warnings: smut (mdni), fem!reader, wlw content, threesomes, straps, blowjobs, cunnilingus, blindfolds, bondage
long post utc
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1. jean and navia
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"so pretty." navia coos, stroking your cheek, tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. your eyes flit downwards, looking at jean kneeling between your legs, two fingers pressed into you.
navia smiles gently, kissing your forehead as she tugs at the hem of your shirt. "can i take this off?" she asks you, and you nod for her, letting her pull it over your head.
jean sucks on your clit, pulling your attention back to her as you let out a sharp gasp. your thighs threaten to close around her head, but she maintains a soft hold on them, keeping you in place.
she looks up at you, leaning back to lick a slow stripe up your pussy. she kisses your clit gently, standing up. "i think she's ready." jean tells navia who gives her a giddy smile.
they ease you down onto the bed, the three of you stripping down completely as jean settles behind you while navia preps her strap. you eye it cautiously, noting that while its girth seems smaller, the length is rather precarious.
jean senses your hesitancy, gently turning your cheek to face her. "it's okay, we'll be gentle." she whispers, kissing your cheek. her hands trail across your body, teasing your breasts as her lips meet yours.
navia runs the faux cock across your pussy, collecting the slick leaking from you. she strokes the silicone, spreading your sticky wetness over the material, the sound penetrating the air.
jean can feel the heat of embarrassment blooming beneath your skin and she pulls away, letting you catch your breath. "there's no need to be shy."
"we think it's cute." navia pipes up, pushing your thighs up to spread you out. "so pretty." she smiles at you, blue eyes sparkling. she waits for you to nod at her, allowing her to press into you.
jean feels one of your hands gripping her biceps, the other clawing at the bedsheets. she slides her left hand to yours, clasping them together to keep you grounded.
your hand grips hers tightly, face turning to push into her shoulder while navia eases into you. they praise you so sweetly, telling you how beautiful you look, how good you are for them, how pretty you look under them.
jean feels you melt against her, trembling once navia's pelvis touches yours. "good girl." and you can't even tell who's talking anymore.
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2. dehya and beidou
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"oh, fuck. that's it, sweetheart." beidou grunts, her hand firmly gripping your head while you choke on her thick strap. she adores your little noises: every time you gag, when you whimper, when your hands feebly grip her thighs. you're just so cute.
"taking our captain here like such a good girl, huh?" dehya grins, fixing her own strap to her pelvis, opening the bottle of oil from the table. she slides her hand across the material of the faux cock on her waist.
your eyes flit between beidou and dehya, your nose pressed to the captain's pelvis, tufts of hair tickling your skin. she pets your head, pushing you to take more of her.
dehya takes you by surprise, propping your hips up and spreading your thighs for her. she slides her still slick fingers over your pussy, laughing. "archons, she's dripping, beidou."
your face heats up with embarrassment, whining around the cock stuffed down your throat. beidou shushes you sweetly, petting your head and keeping you firmly on her cock.
dehya's fingers slide into you from behind, and you moan, fingers digging into beidou's muscular thighs as your eyes flutter shut with the stretch.
"how's she feel?" beidou asks, shallowly fucking your throat.
"tight. loosen up a little for me." she pats your ass, crooking her fingers into your g-spot, gently rubbing against it as your feet kick against the bed. she gently eases you into an orgasm, a strange contrast to how roughly beidou is treating your throat.
once you've come back down from your high, dehya's strap is sliding over your sensitive cunt, rubbing circles into your clit. her thumbs spread your folds open, smirking at how you clench around nothing from the way she exposes you.
she slides the faux cock in at the same time beidou pulls out just to hear you scream, face falling to the bed. once you've caught your breath, beidou is back to fucking your throat.
they maintain their pace together, keeping you full at one end (at least) at all times. your hands claw at the bedsheets, tears pooling in your eyes as they fuck you harder.
it's clear how they enjoy your squirming, cooing about how cute you are, how adorable their pretty girl is. how precious you are when you come for them.
dehya angles herself directly into your g-spot, feeling you tighten up around her and tremble on the bed. she slides out carefully, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck. "made such a mess of my cock, you should see it." she whispers to you as you whimper.
beidou pulls you off her cock, eyeing your spit coating her as she wraps a hand around her base, spreading the glossy spit. she lifts your chin up to face her with a grin. "don't fall asleep on us just yet, i still get my turn to fuck you."
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3. xianyun and ningguang
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"sweetheart, be still for miss xianyun." the tianquan chastises you, and the older woman smiles, holding you against her chest.
"that's alright, lady ningguang. one is rather... adept at handling misbehavior." xianyun reaches down and pinches your clit with the bends of her fingers to ensure you avoid her talons.
you sink lower on the strap she's buried into you. "my, you really are talented." ningguang comments, balancing her pipe in her left hand.
xianyun smiles, holding your thighs open and bouncing you on her faux cock, hearing you whine with each little thrust. "it comes with time. though, i've heard plenty of rumors about the tianquan's very own affairs."
ningguang laughs, taking a drag of her pipe, blowing the smoke into your face, setting it off to the side. "fair enough. i've had my share of traipsing around with pretty women. but you've reduced her to a babbling little toy." she hums, cupping your cheek.
you nuzzle into her touch so sweetly, looking up at her with soft eyes.
"as one has said before, there is much we can all stand to learn, and one is happy to share with you." xianyun bounces you harder, hips thrusting up into you as you cry a mix of their names. "go on, you've been a good girl." she whispers, and, like a trained puppy, you cum around her, shaking in her lap.
xianyun eases you through the rest of your orgasm before sliding you off her strap and into ningguang's lap instead. "aren't you a pliant little thing for us?" ningguang slides her thumb over your lip, watching your tongue dart out over the pad of her finger. she smirks, sliding it into your mouth and holding your tongue down.
xianyun eases you up, grinding you over ningguang's strap, coating the material in the remnants of your orgasm, letting you hear the wet noises of your own slick. when she slides into you, the stretch leaves you reeling.
it's not quite as long as xianyun, but she's chosen a much thicker cock, and you grasp desperately at her shoulders, head tipping back onto xianyun's chest.
ningguang bounces you in a similar manner to xianyun, but different enough that it feels novel. her pelvis grinds into your clit everytime your hips meet hers, and xianyun ensures you feel it by grinding your body down onto the tianquan.
xianyun's fingers dance up your throat, tugging your head closer to kiss her while ningguang watches rather amused. xianyun is tender but firm, holding your jaw in her taloned grip.
ningguang grinds the tip of her strap into your g-spot, feeling you tighten up around her, babbling into xianyun's mouth, begging to cum. merciful as she is, she gives you permission, feeling you soak her cock and drip down onto her pelvis.
they coo at you, petting your head and commending you on being their perfect little pet. and just when you think they're finished, ningguang slides you back to xianyun, fixing her strap and standing to slide it over your lips while xianyun's tip pops back into your pussy.
"such a good girl for us. but so messy." ningguang tuts. "clean up your mess, sweet girl." she grips your head, sliding her dick into your mouth while xianyun slides back into you.
the sensation at the same time along with the taste of yourself on ningguang is all too much. you sniffle and tear up when she teases the back of your throat while they use you, but it only seems to amuse and goad them on.
you are their perfect toy, after all.
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4. yae miko and yelan
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"you know, i'm quite partial to red and pink, but i can't deny how... fetching blue looks on her." miko mused, running a hand up the blue rope tied on your thigh.
the blindfold blocks you from seeing either woman, but yelan laughs. "what can i say? i know what my girl looks good in."
"oh, your girl? is that so?" miko asks, and you whimper when she leans down over you. "is that true? are you hers?"
before you can answer, yelan is on your other side. "you know the right answer, don't you?"
both women are equally menacing in their own right, and you feel overwhelmed. "i- i'm... both... both of yours." your voice trembles, and the women lean up, saying nothing before laughing.
"what a little slut. playing around with two women like this." miko tuts.
"wouldn't be surprised if we're not the only ones." yelan scoffed and you cry out at them.
"no! just you, i swear-" your voice is cut off into a soft wheeze when someone's hand closes around your throat.
"you speak when spoken to, pet." miko warns, leaning down to nip at your shoulder with sharp teeth. she turns you over onto your front, adjusting the ropes to have your face shoved into the pillows while your ass was perked up for them.
"aww, look at you. all wet for us like an eager little pet." miko slaps your clit with her palm, enjoying your little whimpers and futile squirming. her fingers slide into you briefly before withdrawing, and then you feel them pressed onto your lip. "open." she commands, sliding the slick digits over your tongue.
you feel someone else's fingers on your cunt, pinching your clit before sliding two into you, making you moan around the ones in your mouth.
you assume it's yelan, fucking you rather harshly with her fingers, squeezing your thighs and slapping your ass while miko slides onto the bed in front of you.
she cradles your head, pulling your blinded body closer to her, making you kiss her pussy and feeling you moan against her. "oh, good girl, come on, eat me out." she coos and you feel yelan shove your head down.
"go on. that's what you're made for, isn't it?" yelan snaps, letting miko use your tongue, getting your cheeks and lips all messy.
yelan busies herself with sliding three fingers into you now, letting you hear the sounds of your own slick being pushed in and out before she robs you of your orgasm. you pull away to try and beg her, but miko is quicker, shoving you back down to her cunt and effectively silencing you.
yelan taps the tip of her strap onto your cunt, smacking it loud enough for the three of you to hear.
"isn't that a little big for our poor little pet?" miko gasps, faux sympathy for you in her voice as she grinds herself on you like you're her toy.
yelan grips your head, pulling you up and hearing you pant softly. "what do you think, pet? am i too big for you?" she asks.
"no, no! i can take it!" you wail. "please, please fuck me-"
your back arches, and you scream when yelan slides completely in, feeling you clench around her while the women above you delight in your squirming and crying behind your blindfold.
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knavesflames · 1 day
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knavesflames · 1 day
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arlecchino tying you up and eating you out 🙈🙈
Heheh done!!
Contents: cunnilingus, bound wrists, praising, reader’s a little bratty but that’s ok😈
Word count: 1313
NSFW under the cut!
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You sit with a smirk, straining against the lace bound around your wrists, looking down at Arlecchino, who stares at you with a steely gaze. It’s clear she wasn’t in the mood for your bratty antics tonight.
“This lace is pretty, but it doesn’t keep me from escaping.”
A sharp tug at the lace, the fabric giving a small stinging sensation, causes a grunt to leave your lips before the smirk reappears. Arlecchino has been so busy lately with the Fatui, with project Stuzha. You feel she’s been neglecting you a little too much, so of course you resorted to the one thing she can never resist. She just loves putting you in your place, so when you sit on her lap while she’s doing paperwork, grinding yourself on her, your hand slipping through her shirt and rolling her nipples between your thumb and forefinger, she gets.. irritated. Only at the fact you manage to distract her so well. Her voice comes out as an irritated growl as her hand grabs your wrist.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
And when you wore that skimpy dress and bent down to ‘pick up a pen’, she lost it, dragging you to the bedroom. And this is where you sit now, bound by that pretty pink lace she loves so much. It makes you look so innocent, so pretty. And she loves the contrast it gives when you’re screaming her name and arching your back as you beg for more.
“Is this what you wanted, hm?”
She almost growls, planting aggressive kisses on your neck, trailing to your collarbone and then lower, her tongue flicking out against your nipple to relish in the soft sounds you make.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, I don’t know what you mean.”
Your words earn her teeth grazing your nipple, a small yelp echoing the room. Her tongue soothes the bite, swirling softly around your nipple as she hums, the vibrations of her voice travelling to your breast. The breast not occupied with her tongue is fondled by her fingers before they switch. She blows air on your now damp nipples, cooing softly, though, the words have an intent that is less innocent than she makes it sound.
“So cute. You’re so sensitive when you can’t use your hands.”
You strain once against the lace, earning a sharp, almost warning look from Arlecchino, and you know better than to be bratty now. She can be cruel when she wants to be. When she deems that your breasts have been given enough attention, her mouth travels down, kissing your stomach, and then your hip bone. Her kisses are aggressive, the occasional nibble just to prove that you’re hers, and she’s in control, not you. Your hips tilt up as her lips ghost over your pussy, not even touching it and her hand pushes them back down.
“Patience.”
She seems to be taking great enjoyment out of hearing your frustrated breaths, your desire to break free from the lace and guide her lips to where you want them most. She hooks one leg over her shoulder, biting the inside of your thighs and soothing it once again with her tongue. She’s marking you, you have no doubt about that. But you can’t move, if not for your wrists being tied, then for the way one hand is keeping your hips down, the other gripping your ankle, keeping your leg on her shoulder.
“Arl-“
“Be quiet, or do you need a gag?”
A quick shake of your head and almost a whimper.
“Good girl. You’ve been teasing me all week, don’t complain now you’re getting what you want. We go at my pace, or not at all.”
You groan in annoyance, just to be even brattier, but you nod anyway, obeying her. Her kisses go further and further up your thigh until she takes a deep breath, almost burying her nose in your pussy.
“Soaked, are you? Isn’t that sweet? So wet over simple kisses and being tied up.”
Once more, you try to buck your hips up, getting her where you want, but she moves at the last second. She’s clearly enjoying this game, enjoying your growing neediness.
“What did I just say?”
You sigh, letting your head fall back in frustration, only for it to come right back up as you gasp, feeling her tongue lick the gentlest stripe up your slit. Already a soft moan sounds out, a low chuckle coming from Arlecchino. Her two fingers, with dangerously sharp nails you’re always cautious of, gather some of the slick you’ve produced from simple teasing, before forcing your mouth open, stuffing her fingers inside.
“Taste yourself. The sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”
When your heavy breathing prevents you from doing anything, her fingers shove just a little further in, her voice warning you once more.
“Suck.”
And you comply, moaning on her fingers as you taste every last drop of yourself while her tongue moves around the spot you want most. Not touching it, but around.
“Good girl.”
She whispers to you, look into your eyes as her tongue finally finds its correct place, watching your reaction with silent glee. She begins lapping at your pussy, alternating between soft, gentle licks to more aggressive sucking of your puffy clit, enjoying the noises that come out of your mouth. She enjoys the squeal even more when her tongue dips inside of you, thrusting as she makes sure her nose bumps against your clit. Again and again she alternated between fucking you with her tongue and lapping at your clit, so puffy and swollen.
“You have such a pretty pussy.”
She murmurs as you strain against the lace. You’re becoming painfully aware that you *can’t move*, wanting nothing but to card your hands through her hair and keep her where she is. The urge to do what you’ve done once before, turn the tables, use her, use her tongue to grind on. Though, you’re also aware you only did that because she gave you permission. You keep straining, your mewls and grunts getting louder and louder, vibrating on her fingers. And when you gag ever so slightly on her fingers, she speaks again, removing her fingers from your mouth, taking to circling your nipple again.
“Careful, doll. Wouldn’t want you to choke before I’m done with you.”
Her words are sensual, commanding, but you know the hint of love and concern in there. It’s there, barely, she’s hiding it well. But when her tongue resumes her work, you forget all about that, your body trembling with the amount of sensation going on. Your toes curl and your pussy begins fluttering around her tongue, and she knows you’re close. And she does the one thing you both love and hate. Sliding her tongue out, and then back in, and then out again and repeat, her nose bumping your clit, giving you what you need to keep you on that edge.
“Cum for me.”
“Wanna cum all over your mouth.”
“You will. Now, be a good girl, and cum for me.”
You take the opportunity, and the fact she’s being nice for once, your eyes rolling, your back arching, and a loud, strained almost cry of pleasure leaves your lips as you cum messily all over her mouth. And god, does she love it. Her tongue laps up every drop, swirling around your clit slowly as you come down from your high as she whispers.
“Good girl. Pretty girl. Such a good fucking girl, cumming all over my mouth.”
She comes back up to your level, her tongue sliding over yours before she breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both. You smile breathlessly. You got what you wanted, and there wasn’t a punishment. That’s what you thought, anyway, until—
“You think we’re finished? Silly girl. We’ve just started.”
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knavesflames · 1 day
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I’m loving the inbox suggestions thank you ☺️ I’m getting through them slowly, just give some time! I want to give out quality work and I’m busy with university too😵‍💫 but they will appear soon I promise
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knavesflames · 1 day
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omg we're the e.w.l.a. (europeans who love arlecchino) 🤗
what’s the European Union I only know e.w.l.a sorry😓😁😁😁
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knavesflames · 1 day
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How do you think will Arle react with a hickey on our neck?? Ofc we pull a really bad prank on this woman but i imagine what she’d be like 🙇🏻‍♀️
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ooh i think i read something like this on another blog with a hickey prank + arle, and it was so good 🤭🤭🤭 so, let's give it a try !
(suggestive themes utc)
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arlecchino strikes me as the more possessive type. she might not outright say it, but you're hers just as she's yours.
so, if she sees an unfamiliar mark on your neck, one that she's quite certain she didn't leave, she's not too happy.
she stops you in your tracks, tilting your head to the side to take a look at your neck more clearly. at first, she was completely taken aback by how blatantly you were flaunting something like this. that, or how careless you were to forget it was there.
that is until she hears your uneven breathing. so you're aware she can see it?
your eyes flit up to hers, then back down quickly.
oh, you're looking for a reaction from her?
she takes a chance, running a sharp thumb down the mark, pulling away to reveal smudged makeup on her thumb. the mark on your neck is now reduced to a blob of color matching the ones on her thumb.
she grabs your chin, pulling you up to meet her gaze. "is this amusing to you? my concern?" she asks, eyes narrowing when you bite your lip.
it's then you see the jealousy burning in her eyes, even over something fake and trivial, and you realize you're in trouble...
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knavesflames · 2 days
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Arlecchino’s dick grinding against ur pussy😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 I need to write this methinks
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knavesflames · 3 days
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@alfiikae I have written it 😳 it is not the best because I got tired halfway through but decided I couldn’t not finish it. This is NOT my best work I don’t love this
This is very OOC for Arlecchino I think, but who cares? Not me
Sequel to the ask I received about childhood Arle and reader as friends!
Contents: crying, mention of self harm (not graphic, but mentioned and briefly talked about without naming it), just sadness
Word count: 3181
Under the cut!!
(Poor reader lmao, projecting all of my school experiences onto her 😓😓)
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That day was stupid, you tell yourself. She hurt you, and you shouldn’t have let her back in. You still remember the humiliation of telling your mother that no, she couldn’t come for dinner because you were wrong, and she wasn’t your friend, and that the kids were right, you were weird and weird people deserve to be by themselves. You can still remember the pitying face your mother gave you as you shrunk off to your room to play with more rocks. The memory of you playing with those damn rocks fills your brain as you stare down at the textbook. Why are you so interested in rocks and stones? You don’t know, and part of you wishes you weren’t. You slam the book shut just as a knock on your door sounds out, and Arlecchino’s voice rings out.
“Are you here? You haven’t been answering my messages. I am confused.”
You try to stay silent because there’s no way in hell you want to answer the door right now. You’ve been avoiding her since that night, just like the way you’ve been avoiding everyone else. A vow made to yourself one day in freshman year of high school, avoid everyone like the plague.
“I can see your feet, can you please answer the door?”
A sigh, and your chair pushes back as you stand, walking reluctantly towards the door before you open it, poking your head out.
“What?”
“Can I come in?”
“I’m kind of busy.”
“You’ve been busy since-“
You cut her words short, your voice slightly distant, no trace of the warm child she once rejected.
“Yeah, well, I’m busy. Maybe another time, yeah?”
Your attempt to shut the door fails when her foot blocks the way, her face stern and her eyes dark with.. what is that? Worry? Guilt? Annoyance? You sigh, walking towards your desk again as you clutch the sleeves of your sweater to stop yourself from either crying in frustration or snapping at her.
“Why have you been ignoring me? We had sex, you can’t just ignore me like nothing happened.”
“You’re one to talk about being ignored, hm?”
“..touché. But the point stands.”
“Okay.”
Your head is in your textbook again as you try to grasp how to tell the age of rocks by the patterns inside. Your hand on your temple, attempting to block out the fact she’s stood right there, staring into you like she’s trying to analyse you.
“Damn it, what the hell is wrong? What is your problem?”
“You tell me.”
“I said and did one thing like ten years ago and you still haven’t let go of it! You have to move on. I’m trying to reconnect with you.”
“I’m a weirdo, remember? Why would I try to reconnect with someone who thinks I’m a weirdo? I’d rather hang out with my textbooks and rocks.”
Your voice is sharper than it usually is. You know from so many years of this that you have to toughen yourself up. You can’t let people treat you like this, you know that, but..
“That’s exactly the problem. All you care about is rocks, you never even tried to talk to people.”
Your head snaps around sharply in her direction, a glare on your once smiling face. Your tongue finds its way between your teeth as you take a breath. You can already feel the familiar stabbing pain in your chest.
“I have tried. You just didn’t care to pay attention. I care only about rocks because they’re the only things that won’t be horrible to me! Like you’re any better with your stupid insects.”
You hear a sharp breath being taken as her fists clench for a second. Your face is unreadable, but she can see you’re hurt. She feels guilty, but she’s so annoyed at the same time. She can’t figure you out the way she wants to, she can’t read you the way she can with other people. It’s like you’ve locked yourself away behind a wall that can’t be demolished.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“What? Are you asking me if I was dropped on the head as a baby?”
The words make Arlecchino stop. That was so specific, too specific to not have been said to you before. And your voice is so sharp, so distant. The guilt is beginning to form in a pit in her stomach, pulling her downwards into a sea of anger. Her eyes flick over you, noticing the thing she’s noticed constantly about you.
“No. I’m asking what happened. You were such a happy child and then one day you just weren’t. You were so social and then you stopped talking to anyone, and nobody said anything about it either.”
“Mhm.”
“And now you’re not you. I don’t like it.”
Your mind recalls everything. The day she ditched you seems like such a small thing, but it wasn’t. Not when you pair it with everything else that happened. It was just the icing on the cake. You still remember the feeling, what you turned to, the nights alone. Your vision blurs, but you blink rapidly, fighting the tears away. Arlecchino waits patiently, standing there as she stares at you, analysing your appearance, analysing everything she can about you like you’re one of her insects she plans to research. You’ve never spoken to anyone about this, and you never dreamed of doing it. Especially not to her. But the words beginning spilling out of your mouth in both anger and sorrow.
“Nobody liked me, so I changed. Being me was the wrong thing to do.”
“Wrong? No. People liked you.”
You scoff, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. You know that’s not true, people have told you that.
“Do not lie. Nobody liked me, and it isn’t like they made that painfully obvious.”
“What do you even mean by that? Is that why you..”
She gestures a hand to you, and you know what she means. It isn’t hard to know what she means. Your eyes narrow, and your tone becomes defensive.
“How do you-“
“I just know. I saw one time. You weren’t the best at hiding it, you know. And you didn’t take your sweater off when we had sex. It adds up.”
“Right.”
“You shouldn’t do that, you know. Why? What drove you to start with that? Because people didn’t like you?”
Your jaw tenses. You don’t even know what to say to that. Your hands clasp in front of you, bringing the sleeves of your sweater against your palms, an old childhood habit really, but you never really paid attention to it. You stare in silence for a while before your voice sounds out, quiet, almost sad.
“I don’t need a lecture.”
“Sorry.”
“You really don’t know?”
“No.”
“You don’t remember that the janitor had to lock the changing rooms after school hours because a girl got locked in there for the weekend?”
Arlecchino’s eyes widen for a second as she tries to recall that. She does, in fact, vaguely remember that someone was locked in the changing rooms for an entire weekend in freshman year, and was only found again on the Monday when they had gym class. She feels the pit in her stomach grow significantly.
“That was you?”
“Mhm.”
“What happened?”
“Do you even care?”
A pause, and then:
“I do.”
You begin explaining for the first time in your life, your voice thick and almost wavering. You stare straight ahead at the small amethyst geode next to your bed, refusing to make eye contact. And you explain everything, everything from first grade to now.
“People didn’t like me because they thought I was weird. They thought I was too interested in rocks and that they couldn’t talk to me because of that.”
“You are too interested in rocks.”
“You can go if you’re going to begin with that.”
“No, you’re right. Keep going.”
Your throat constricts. For some reason, all of your anger is towards her. In a sense, she was the catalyst for everything. Not that it’s inherently her fault, but you can’t get her words out of your head.
“I kept trying to make friends but it wasn’t working. They would always play with other girls, which was.. I don’t know, sad, but I could play with myself. Then they wanted to play with me all of a sudden, so we would play hide and seek. They would ask me to hide and they would find me, but they didn’t even try to find me. It was just a ploy to get me away from them. I didn’t get it. I remember thinking that I was a bit sad they never found me until I hid really close to them. I found out they weren’t actually trying to find me, they just talked about me. They called me weird for liking rocks and wanting to play with them.”
You pause, taking a shaky breath before you continue. Arlecchino’s stomach is completely filled with guilt now, because she can tell where this is going. She has the urge to reach out and grab your hand. To trace her fingers over your skin. She doesn’t.
“Then I met you. You tolerated me, at least. And I had never had a friend before. So I remember running home and talking about you to my mom. She was worried, you know. She knew I didn’t have any friends and she saw it made me sad. She was so excited for me and when we stayed friends for a bit— well, ‘friends’, she asked if you wanted to come for dinner. She said I could ask if you wanted to come. I was so happy and I had this whole idea that we were going to swing on the swings in the park and maybe go to the library you liked so much. It turns out you didn’t like me at all.”
Your fingers pick at your nails, and it’s clear that’s something you do often by the way your skin is red and peeling. It was the opposite of her not liking you. She did like you. So much so, that she realised that she was different from other people.
“Stop that.”
Her hand finally reaches over and grabs yours, stopping you from causing more damage to your skin. Her hand are a contrast from yours, her hands patterned and blackened, almost charred and long nails painted perfectly, with your hands being plain, blunt nails that are bitten down. Tears gather on your lashes now as you keep staring at the geode, one you got for your 15th birthday.
“I had to go home to my mom that day and see her excited face. I remember she asked me what you wanted to eat, what she should make and I.. damn it, it was so hard telling her you— yeah. Her face fell, she was so happy I had a friend, and now I didn’t. She asked if I was sad, I said no. I said I didn’t care. I said I knew I was weird anyway and the girls at school said weirdos can’t make friends so it all made sense. I heard her talking to my dad when she thought I was sleeping that night, she was so sad for me.”
“I didn’t mean for it to be so mean.”
“It doesn’t help now. That was just the start of everything.”
A singular tear finally drops from your eyelid, hitting your skin. Everything is running through your mind and it’s so overwhelming you can’t help but choke down a quiet sob. Arlecchino’s own eyes are tearing up, despite her best efforts to hide it. She feels like the guilt is eating her, that the shame of what she said is sucking her into a hole. Ashamed that she said and did all of those things only to fuck you years later like nothing happened. She doesn’t want to hear anymore. But she tells herself that she needs to.
“The other kids caught wind of what happened. “If the loner girl doesn’t want to be friends with her, why would anyone else?” I kept trying to join in conversations, I kept trying to make friends, but it never worked. I got weird looks and insults. I threw a party for my 15th birthday. I invited everyone. Even you. I think a part of me was desperate for someone to show up. I got everything ready at my house, I bought so much food and I had a cake. People said they were coming. They—“
Your words are cut off by a sob. This is the first time you’ve shown any type of emotion in front of someone in years, and you’re cursing yourself for it. And Arlecchino, she’s silent. She’s listening, and she’s so so sad for you. She knows it’s only getting worse because you haven’t even talked about the changing room incident yet.
“Nobody came. I went to bed at 1am after clearing everything away. The food sat in the fridge and I had to throw it away. I did something stupid that night. I wish I didn’t because it became a habit. But I was so sad. I didn’t understand why nobody came, so I asked people. They lied to me, they said they were coming but they didn’t. And then, one Friday, after gym, they hid my gym bag. I spent a while looking, and when I finally found it and tried to leave, they had locked me in there. They said they would let me out when I stopped being a weirdo, because weirdos deserve nothing, they don’t deserve friends. They left, and I was there all weekend until the janitor found me early on the Monday. I never spoke to anyone again.”
The shame Arlecchino feels right now is palpable. She herself is crying now, silently as she stares at the floor. She yells at herself in her head at everything she could have done, but didn’t. Her eyes flick to your upper body, covered by your sweater. It’s not an unusual sight, she hasn’t seen you without a sweater since your 15th birthday. Listening to your shuddering breaths, your sobs, it pains her. So much so that her voice sounds like a yell.
“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me? To anyone?”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
Seeing how broken you are inside, seeing the loneliness that secretly overwhelms you, she wants to punch herself. She wants to apologise, she just.. doesn’t know how. She’s not one to apologise, she never has been. She’s hot headed, cold blooded, but you soften her in a way she’s never felt.
“I’m really sorry I never reached out to you. I’m sorry I called you weird. Really, I am. And I should have never treated you the way I did.”
Her words only make you sob harder. You sob into your sleeve, the fabric muffling your almost wails, your gasping breaths. She feels like her lungs are constricting, she feels like she can’t breathe as she watches you break down into the comfort of your sweater, which is only a painful reminder that you truly have nobody but yourself. She begins wondering how many times you’ve cried like this. How many times you’ve turned to that awful habit. And the thought of that, sitting alone in your room as you cry, breaks her too. She cries into her hands.
“I am sorry. I feel horrible, I’m so ashamed of the way I just didn’t do anything. I could have done something, I should have done something. I pushed you away because I— I had just discovered I didn’t like.. god damn it. I’m a lesbian, and it was then I figured it out. Your fault.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. I tried to push it down, but every time I saw you it was a mean reminder that I wasn’t like everyone else. You’re such a sweet person, you don’t deserve what you got. You should have been a girl who everyone loved. Instead, you got.. you don’t deserve to be alone like you think. I lov-“
She stops. She takes a breath before she continues. It’s not the time, and she can’t use this situation to confess her infatuation with you. It was an explanation, but she can’t use it as an excuse. She feels so awkward, she hates apologising. She can’t recall a single time she’s apologised properly and meant it. Her hands fumble with her tears as she wipes them away, pushing through the awkwardness she feels.
“I like you. I want to be your friend, at least.”
You don’t reply for a bit as you try hard to calm down. Biting your lip the way you did the way she refused to be your friend, you sigh as your breath hitches.
“You won’t leave me alone until I agree, won’t you?”
“No.”
You sigh as you rub your temple, running your fingers through your hair.
“We can try. Don’t expect anything. We’re not best friends. We can try.”
Relief floods through Arlecchino, at least a bit. She was dreading her apology being rejected, causing more awkwardness. A single nod as she glances up around the room.
“Alright.”
You both sit in silence as you try to calm down. Your hands fumble with your sleeves as the tears dry on your face before her voice is heard again.
“You know you have a cobweb?”
“I know. I’m scared of spiders so I just let it live there.”
“Is it big?”
“No, but I still won’t touch it.”
Her eyes search the corners before she finally finds the little fellow, a small smile gracing her face. Her hands reach up, gently pushing the spider onto her hands. She gingerly approaches you, your eyes following her. You know the fear is irrational, but it’s always been a fear. The spider is almost cute, if it wasn’t for.. you don’t know.
“It’s fine. This species won’t hurt you at all. They look a bit scary but they’re actually not. People just don’t know how to hold them.”
You know she’s trying to distract you. It’s like she knows your thoughts, but she knows better than to speak about it.
“Is that why they run?”
“Mm.”
“How do you hold them, then?”
She looks up at you, as if for permission before she opens her hand and lets the spider crawl onto your sleeve. She figures that it not touching your skin is easier for the first time.
“Just don’t be harsh. Don’t hold them by their legs, let them roam.”
“It’s almost cute.”
“I know. I like the purple rock on your nightstand.”
You both watch the spider as it crawls around your arm, you’re slowly relaxing, still on edge, but.. better.
“It’s a geode. Amethyst.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Can I?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty.”
And for the first time in a long time, a real smile ghosts your face as you begin talking.
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knavesflames · 3 days
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I GOT HER C1
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knavesflames · 3 days
Note
Childhood friend Arlecchino and Reader that Arle never truly found her to be a friend, despite the reader saying they are and Arle did kinda ditch em during middle school. Until college rolls around, the newfound (or unrealized) sentiments towards Reader become more clear to her - infatuated.
I feel like I kind of strayed from this because I’m totally into angst rn but if wanted it to be sexual I can indeed make another part OR I can also make an even angstier ending. Anyway!! Here it is.
Contents: just sad reader, Arlecchino is lowkey mean in middle school, one (sexual) slap.
Word count: 1672
Writing (kind of NSFW at the end) under the cut!!
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You skipped up to the small girl who sits reading on a bench, holding a small pile of rocks and a wide smile on your face. You don’t have many friends, you’re too quiet, too ‘weird’, so when you befriended Arlecchino, you actually began looking forward to school each day. It was almost too good to be true. She’s been a bit distant with you the last couple of weeks but that’s fine, right? She’s probably stuck into that book of hers, her nose has always been in a book or playing with insects.
“Look!! I found rocks that matched your eyes and I thought they were cool, you can-“
“Stop it.”
“..huh? Stop what?”
“Stop bothering me. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
You pause at that. In a sense, she is busy reading, but can’t she put her book down for two seconds? You haven’t properly spoken in weeks.
“Yeah but I was excited about the rocks. I can never find any that remind me of you and now I have.”
“Okay? I am still busy.”
“But we’re friends.”
A sigh leaves Arlecchino’s lips, and she finally looks up from that book.
“No, we aren’t. When did I ever say we were friends?”
You feel your shoulders sinking, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips. Your hand falls to your side, the rocks held tightly within the constraints of your fist.
“No, I.. you didn’t, but I just assumed that.. I don’t know. I thought we were friends.”
“You assumed wrong. I don’t like you anymore, you’re weird, and you never stop talking. I don’t want to talk.”
Your cheeks puff slightly before you let out a puff of air. Your teeth graze your lip, biting down firmly as you stand there in silence, processing. Weird. There’s that word again, no? You feel a sort of pain rise in your chest, but you swallow it.
“Okay. I’m sorry. You can keep the rocks.”
The rocks are placed onto the table beside her, an assortment of black and white and grey all decorating the rocks. And one, one black one with a red cross on it, clearly drawn. You just wanted to make her feel included, everyone was finding rocks that matched their eyes. You keep staring at her for a while longer, but she doesn’t look back up, so you turn.
“I’ll tell my mom you can’t come for dinner, then.”
Arlecchino finally looks up when she hears that. God, she hears the hurt you’re masking, the tears threatening to spill over your lashes. She shouldn’t have been so crass with you, she knows that, but that’s who she is. Blunt, and she was sick of having to pretend. She watches as your figure shrinks towards the school library, where she first met you. You didn’t have any friends, so you ate there. It was better than sitting at that dreaded buddy bench and waiting for someone to ask you to be their friend. As you walk, you pass said bench, a feeling of slight dread rising. To the library, then.
It’s then that Arlecchino notices the rock you drew on, her face softening for just a second. She brushes the rocks off of the table, pocketing the one you drew on before continuing her book without a word. She moves seats in class after that, and she’s not unaware of your eyes that burn sadly into her as she picks up her books. They’re rimmed red and slightly glassy, and it stabs her heart. You two never talk again after that. She goes back to being the girl at the back of the class that enjoys being alone, that enjoys the misconceptions people make about her. You sit in the middle of the class, staring down at your textbooks, silently yearning to be part of the conversations the kids around you have.
Each year passes and both of you grow older. She kept that rock, it’s in her pocket always. It’s become some sort of lucky charm for her, and god she can’t help but stare at you in class as you become more beautiful with every passing year. By senior year, you’re the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. She can’t stop thinking about you. She finds herself stalking your social media when she’s at home, her finger always hovering over the like button, her fingers always hovering over the send message button before deleting the entire paragraph. She knows you’re both off to college soon, she’ll most likely never see you again, and yet she still can’t bring herself to admit her feelings. She can still see the hurt in your eyes from that day, the way you dismissed it like it was nothing only to cry in secret after. She dreams of you at night. Dreams of how she regrets what she said and the way she said it, dreams of her holding your hand and looking at rocks together, dreams of your whimpers as she fucks you. She hates that last dream. The dream that gets stuck in her brain constantly, so much so that she nearly failed her biology final. On graduation day, she makes a promise to herself that she’ll never think of you again.
But she does. Fast forward to junior year of college and you’re walking with your headphones on, looking down at your phone until you collide with someone, a harsh “watch it” in your ear.
“Sorry! I’m sor- ah. Sorry.”
You look up into the same red and black eyes you once considered a friend. How stupid. Out of all the colleges she could have possibly chosen, she chose the one you chose too.
“It’s fine. Just.. Watch it. You’re as clumsy as you ever were.”
“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t looking.”
Arlecchino swallows the nerves rising in her body and finally makes a conversation with you, her voice blunt, awkward.
“How have you been?”
“Fine, thank you. You?”
She scowls slightly as your dismissive tone reaches her ears. You were never like this before.
“Good. I’m good. What are you majoring in?”
“I’m going into geology.”
Of course it’s geology. She didn’t expect anything less from you, really.
“Fun. I’m going to study insects.”
“Go figure.”
“I’m sorry. For what I said back then. I know I hurt you.”
“You didn’t.”
“You cried.”
She has you there. She saw your eyes when she moved seats in class, it wasn’t exactly easy to hide the redness. You pause, not saying anything for a while.
“We weren’t friends. We aren’t friends. What does it have to do with you?”
“You were lonely and it made me rethink.”
“Weird people are meant to be lonely, don’t you think?”
You’ve carried those words with you ever since. It didn’t really matter when other children called you that, but the one person you considered a friend.. well, it hurt.
“I just.. didn’t appreciate the eccentricity. That’s all. I miss you.”
“Okay.”
“I dream about you.”
“It isn’t like you to be this emotional. Do you feel guilty because I was lonely afterwards or because you want to clear your conscience?”
“Both.”
As honest as ever. You take a deep breath, the music still playing in your headphones that now hang around your neck.
“We can talk in my dorm room.”
You turn on your heel, walking straight to the block of dorms. At least she’s not in the same block, she thinks. She can at least avoid you if this goes bad. The thought of going to your room though.. her dreams of fucking you have only come back, and stronger. Your room is cozy, so very you.
“Is that.. KISS?”
She points to the poster on your desk. She hates that she’s familiar with them, because she hates that she’s more like you than she could ever want to be.
“Yep.”
“I like them too.”
She gingerly sits on your bed, letting her bag drop with a thud. As you walk over to join her, in all your clumsy glory you kick the bag by mistake as you stumble over it, watching as the rock you once painted on tumbles out. Silence.
“You still have that.”
“I never got rid of it.”
Her heart beats faster. So does yours. Your face, so beautiful in the light of your room, the way your hair shines, the way your eyes have a mix of sadness, anger and happiness in them, all of them fighting to take over.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her words cut through your thoughts. You look up at her and you can’t deny the way your heart flutters as you look at her. You suppose you’ve always felt the way you do about her, that it’s why it hurt you so much when she said you weren’t friends. And once again, your mind is brought out of your thoughts by a sudden crash of her lips on yours. A surprised sound comes from your throat, but you don’t fight against it.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It isn’t.”
“You’re here now.”
Hands wrap around your waist, tightening and pulling you closer to her as her lips leave yours and pepper kisses on your jaw, trailing down to your neck, and then your shoulder. And you don’t stop her. Your hands entangle themselves in her hair. What the hell has gotten into you? And her, for that matter, as her hand slides under your shirt and you feel the coldness of her skin on your stomach. Your own hands shed her jacket and she whispers against your skin.
“Let me.”
“Hm?”
“Let me do what I do in my dreams.”
“What’s that, then? Dissect insects?”
A gentle, sensual, almost desperate and loving slap of your face as she grips your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes, those ones you avoided for so long. You wonder how she knew exactly what to do to turn you on.
“Let me fuck you and show you how sorry I am. How much I missed you.”
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knavesflames · 3 days
Text
I have this HC that Arlecchino cannot fucking cook, that she’s never bothered to learn, or just simply is not gifted in the kitchen😭 so have some Arlecchino that made me giggle. It’s very short and messy but I had to get it out of my drafts😭😭 ALSO THIS PICTURE MAKES ME SCREAM
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Arlecchino trying to cook for you for your anniversary but failing miserably (arlie I love you but what the fuck is that signature dish). She’s so smart but so dumb sometimes, “it said a teaspoon of salt but they were in the dishwasher so I used a bowl instead”, or “it was pink so I kept cooking it and now it’s black????” While you try to keep your giggle in as you explain that it’s supposed to be pink. And how patient she is usually with other people, especially her children, but she uses her pyro when the potatoes aren’t finished when they’re ‘supposed’ to be, rendering them inedible. And of course, she doesn’t understand a thing, but she’s too proud to ask. So when you do finally get a dinner that tastes good, you can’t help but notice the two small cat shaped carrots, and a penguin shaped piece of chicken, a tiny indicator that it was in fact, not Arlecchino who made the dinner, but instead commanded the twins and Freminet to make it instead.
“You must make a dinner for two. Chicken, potatoes, the fancy kind, and those roasted carrots she loves. And for the love of the Tsaritsa, do not add seasonings. Salt and pepper is fine.”
“Why, Father?”
“Hush, Freminet. Father cannot cook.” Lyney gives Freminet a small kick.
“I did not tell you to question me. I can cook, I simply do not have the time.”
But everyone with a brain knows she can’t, that she’s a woman of many talents, but being in the kitchen is not one of them. Walking away only to have her cheeks flush as she hears the children snickering lovingly. Nobody says a word when she shows up to Fontaine’s cooking lessons the next month for fear of receiving her wrath, and when she finally presents you with a clumsy mess of a meal, and it actually tastes decent, you feel your heart swell.
“You’ve improved, Arlie.”
“Mm.” She grumbles, turning away to hide the small smile that grows on her face.
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knavesflames · 3 days
Text
based on arlecchinos voiceline about her not being able to understand the hearth kids' slang, here are some scenarios me and my friend came up with:
hearth kids: "skibidi rizz, why are you watching cocomelon, thats not ratioed. you need to start mewing"
arle, sitting in the corner: "what the fuck are you saying"
lyney, trying to explain what camp means
arle: *head in hands, about to go up in flames because she feels old*
"why are you coming out of the closet? we're in a hallway, there is no closet?"
"What do you mean you think it's time to come out? We're already outside?"
"who did you slay? do i need to bury a body for you?"
arle, to lyney: "wait i thought you were going to be the next king of the hearth. why is everyone calling you a queen?"
"Lynnette why did you write 'slay pussy boss' on the report about Furina I had you make?"
Arle: you can't do that anymore freminet. That's against the rules
Freminet: okay miss girl
Arle: ???? I am a woman???
lyney: "youre gaslighting and gatekeeping, but youre not girlbossing"
arle: "i actually did gaslight last night. i burned that one rich guys house down. i thought i told you about that?"
"What do you mean you've been afflicted with 'brain rot' are you okay?!?!"
"drag queen? to where? are they angry at miss furina again?"
arle, to lyney: "why are they calling me and columbina fruity? my cologne smells nothing like fruit"
lyney: "father, why do you have that look on your face?"
arle: "WHY IS EVERYONE CALLING ME AN EGG"
arle: "top energy? bottom energy? if you want to succeed in the house of the hearth, then you must have top energy at all times and never fall behind"
lyney: "no thats- thats not what they meant"
"lynette, why are the kids calling neuvillette babygirl?"
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knavesflames · 3 days
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Gimme ideas to write for Arle in my inbox 😈 I’m writing something but I keep getting stuck on genshin so apologies for the inactivity!
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knavesflames · 3 days
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little creature
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knavesflames · 4 days
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This is damn perfect
idk if this counts as arlecchino story quest spoilers but just, possible spoiler warning utc
some headcanons for my troubled angsty heart:
1. if clervie survived, i think she wouldve gotten an anemo vision because of her whole thing of fighting for freedom in the house of the hearth. she says she wanted to be a bard in arles story quest. imagine arle and clervie going to mondstadt for the windblume festival and clervie and venti running into each other, and him teaching her to play the lyre. one night, clervie sings to arle, and when she looks over at the harbinger, shes smiling wider than she has in her entire life
2. FATHER AND MOTHER. some of the hearth kids are scared of clervie and the title "mother," and how much she resembles crucabena in terms of physical appearance, and clervie takes care to try not to resemble her at all. she wears her hair in a different style (i.e. not the dead anime mom cut), she has a completely different style from her mother (she can often be seen walking around in flats and arlecchinos stolen suit jackets), and she makes sure she doesnt talk in the threateningly saccharine tone her mother used to. over time, the kids are at ease around her, no more heels clacking down the hallway at night, patrolling every corridor. shes so gentle and doting with the kids, with no hint of a murderous gleam behind her eyes
3. speaking of father and mother, they have such a healthy relationship dynamic and they absolutely show affection to each other around the others. the kids at the house have sometimes walked into the library and seen arle reading a book on a sofa with clervie leaned on her shoulder, an arm wrapped around her waist. god theyre so soft with each other and they have such a healthy example of love for their kids
4. arle has taken clervie to snezhnaya on business trips before (dw, they have someone back home to watch over the house). the first time they went there, the first thing they did was go see the aurora borealis. they sat on top of a mountain one night. clervie wrapped herself in arles winter coat (it was big enough for both of them, even though clervie had her own coat) and tucked her head under arles chin
5. clervie has stolen the rest of the harbingers hearts. they love her, probably more than they love arlecchino. signora and pantalone are ready to pour out a river of mora for her, columbina loves to listen to her singing, and sandrone tinkers with little trinkets to give to clervie to take home to the hearth kids
6. their proposal is so sickeningly sweet. clervie has been talking about wanting to go to snezhnaya again, not for a business trip, but just for a regular vacation. maybe they can even go to a winter festival together. like always, they go up to a mountainside together to watch the northern lights. clervie gets up to their usual spot first, and she turns to face the lights, arlecchino to her back. arle takes out a ring with a pink diamond, clervies favorite, set in the middle of a gold band. clervie hears arlecchino go silent and she turns around, confused, and starts to ask why, until she sees her down on one knee. she could see a tear in the corner of arlecchinos eye, but of course she wasnt going to point it out because she herself had tears streaming down her face as she said yes a thousand times over
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knavesflames · 4 days
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arlecchino daddy kink thoughts
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🤭🤭🤭🤭 you already know what i'm thinking
2000s arle <3
(nsfw utc - tw daddy kink)
the first time you say it, she thinks you misspoke. she's been bouncing you on her strap, gripping your hips and using you like a toy.
the term spills from your lips before you can even think twice, a soft little whimper that has her hips pausing their movements.
she grabs your chin, tilting you back to face her. "what was that?" she asks.
"sorry, it just-"
she squishes your cheeks, effectively silencing you. "say it again." she demands.
"daddy-" it's muffled and soft, but it has her shuddering.
"that's right, sweetheart. again."
"daddy- fuck, it feels so good!" you sob, feeling her pound you harder, bouncing you on her strap as your pussy flutters around the silicone.
it only fuels her ego, too. when she hears you mewling so desperately for her as she grabs you tightly. her bracelets shake as she slams you onto her lap until you finally give her what she wants.
with a final cry of the new petname, you squirt for her, practically sobbing when her thumb finds your clit to prolong it. she smacks her palm lightly against the nerves, feeling excess slick spray onto her toned abdomen as she laughs wickedly.
she pulls your tired head towards her, kissing your forehead and tucking your head onto her shoulder.
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knavesflames · 5 days
Note
hear me out trans!fem arle using a condom but accidentally breaking it 🤭 so she just goes with it anyway because we just feel too good
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for the sake of safe and consentual sex, let's say this all occurs after you've both already decided you're okay with pregnancy 😊
(nsfw utc)
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the grip she holds on your hips feels more like iron than muscle tonight. she's almost feral with it, snapping her hips into yours, driving you further into the mattress.
it's hard to say what's got her so frustrated, not that you have a brain to think too much on it now anyway.
she growls lowly to herself, how tight you feel, how you look so pretty for her. she can see indents in your skin from her nails, the evidence of your previous orgasms on the condom around her, the-
she hears a soft sound, quickly pulling out, much to your displeasure. "why'd you stop?" you whine at her, turning over your shoulder.
"sweetheart." she sighs, suddenly sounding gentle. "it broke." she tells you, prompting you to sit up.
she eyes you down, a silent question for you, to which you give her a silent answer.
you lay down onto your back, spreading your thighs for her again. "keep going, please." you beg her and she groans, fisting her cock. "please?"
you sound so sweet... the temptation was all too much.
she slides the broken condom off, lining up her cock with your pussy and sliding back into you, feeling you clench around her. your cheek turns to press against the blankets, grabbing at them desperately as she keeps fucking you.
"oh, please, please fill me up!" you cry for her and her head tips back, practically folding you into a mating press now as she pistons her hips harder.
your delirious little cries, the fluttering of your cunt around her, the feeling of your body under hers, it's just too much. her thumb slides to your clit, rubbing tight circles and urging you to cum around her just before she shoves herself as deep as she can, filling you up.
she shudders, leaning down over you and panting against your neck as you clutch at her biceps tightly.
"there's no going back now." she reminds you breathlessly.
"i... wouldn't want to." you reply tiredly, and she kisses your cheek sweetly, rolling you over to lay on her chest for now to rest.
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