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#arlechinno genshin
knavesflames · 1 day
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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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vinestaff · 2 days
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i think i have a type
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mtchacffinz · 7 hours
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what a blunder!
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prompt!!! Arlecchino personally deals with your unwanted marriage proposal in her own unique way.
content!!! fem!reader x arlecchino, SFW, impatient arlecchino, violence mentioned, marriage proposal, possessive arlecchino
note!!! "Farlahr" is a made up character for the sake of this ficlet. The Doctor here is NOT Dottore. something about arlecchino tweaking and losing a few screws is so hot to me so here you go girls this one is for my strap on arlecchino riders 🙏 im so normal
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"He told me that if I consider him as my betrothed, I would be set for life." You smile up at her, albeit nervous. "Huh? Oh— Where are you going?"
Long empty corridors could carry even the faintest whispers. The moon peeks from the shadows, it's serene light softly caressing the harbingers figure— still, quiet, tensed. Her heels clang echoing all throughout the corridor, her gaze that was pinned straight forward seemed to pierce through the thick air surrounding the atmosphere.
Long empty corridors could carry even the faintest whispers, and Arlecchino failed to notice she started to hear her uneven breathing.
Peculiar. Truly peculiar..
"Right this way, Ma'am." Arlecchino set her gaze towards the head butler, greeted with the sight of a tensed figure in return. The head butler winces, stammering on his words. Was she glaring? She doesn't know. That's not important. She's needs to get through the door. "I- I will inform the Master of your arrival—"
"That will not be necessary." Her sultry voice cut through his words. "We have been long collaborators, a reunion shan't wait too long."
Her monochromatic figure heaves a soft breath, looking blankly towards the excessively pretentious door, it's sheer size looming over Arlecchino's figure— the entrance towards an office.
Eloquent and graceful, although her lips were painted with a polite smile, the person before her couldn't tell if the crimson woman was brewing something from within. The Knave was calculative and perceptive, an expert at keeping herself cold despite the scorching flames imbedded within her. The man kept his gaze at the floor, lacking the courage to even contest her gaze.
Those eyes, terrifying crimson hued crosses that could mess with your head tried to dare his optics to even catch a small gaze. Staring into them was ill advised indeed. The butler knew this for his heart was racing, and what added to the cold sweat undeniably trickling in his jaw was that Arlecchino stood unnervingly still— as if contemplating something under deep thought. Before anything could be done, Arlecchino firmly gripped the mansion door's handles in a few momemts, swinging it open with great force.
There had always been an air of nobility in Arlecchino's presence. As soon as she stepped foot into Farlahr's office, the doctor stood up in shock, startled.
"Please, excuse my abrupt visit, Doctor." Arlecchino deliberately spat out the title, a composed smile tugged at her lips. Farlahr's eyes widen at the sight of her monochromatic elegance painting his mansion floors with her presence.
"You're not too busy, I presume? Do let us catch up, I insist— I truly do." It was way beyond the wee hours of the night, the breeze was cold and unforgiving, and the doctor could feel it crawling up his spine. The Harbingers assertive words leave no room for arguments. As if there was an invisible wind from the room, forcing every bit of his movements to bend at her own will.
"I admit that it's quite off fashion to visit at this hour empty handed, Lord Harbinger." The man chuckled in an attempt to disperse the growing tension in the air. He swings his hands— decorated with glimmering stones to mask his nervousness. The woman quickly responded.
"I won't be empty handed for long."
"Pardon, Lord Harbinger?"
Arlecchino doesn't clarify any further, but directs her unwavering gaze to him. Dark, piercing. It was like a warning, a ticking bomb for the doctor to diffuse except there seemed to be no signs of dismissal any time soon.
His crisp smile quickly dropped.
"...I merely jest." Farlahr quickly followed up, as if it was the most amusing joke in the world. Arlecchino doesn't seem to share the same opinion, as her expression stood the same. Whatever The Knave came here for, he doesn't know just yet. And if he fails to catch on, Farlahr just might lose something. His head fell from the deep crevices of his panicked mind falling into one topic he suddenly could bring up as distraction.
With their history of collaborative partnership of 13 years, Arlecchino didn't have a single problem in regards to the business and it's contributions to the House of Hearth. Arlecchino didn't care for his obsessions with women and adulterous activities, the poised lady simply stood her ground due the information the Doctor withheld about the history of medical fallacies and treatments alike.
Arlecchino's rigid gaze quickly looked relaxed, unbothered. Her voice had voice lowered and her arms and legs sit crossed.
"I came here to offer a deal."
"And that is?"
It was no surprise to Arlecchino that Farlahr was a worldly man. Riches to riches, he has re-married at least three times and he's proud of that. Arlecchino didn't bother to comprehend his thought process. She believes that his brain was processed waste ideally converged with multiple nerves. His body reeked of metals, teeth gleaming brightly with silver. She kind of wishes she could rip it all out of his jaw..
"You will retract your marriage proposal." Arlecchino starts, "And I say this, your wealth, status, and people— all safeguarded as per usual."
Farlahr was taken aback by the sudden demand. He doesn't know if her statement stemmed from concern for his safety or a wake up call to his unethical hobbies. The opportunist in him say the opposite, it says that maybe you are some sort of leverage in this world— so valuable that even the 4th Harbinger of then fatui would personally come and abolish his plans of marrying you.
But the curiosity of his consciousness gnaws it's way out of his lips, asking one particular question.
"You disapprove of my wife and I?"
How disgusting. Utterly repulsive. Its almost an offense to your whole existence to be called a wife to someone as repugnant as him. The monochromatic grace managed to suppress her disgust by responding in a more poignant tone.
"Ah, forgive me." Arlecchino very slowly tilts her head, eyes unblinking. She effortlessly stands up from her seat, her coat elegantly swaying with her refined and poised movements, breath light as a feather— a shadow cast on her face.
"But I don't disapprove of your proposal, pig." In a moment, there was a switch in her tone. Her pointed high heels shoes dragged themselves against the expensive velvet carpet, dreaming to at least peirce through the back of a certain crisp, fragile cranium. With every step closer Arlecchino gets, the more Farlahr's heart pounds in his chest, daring to jump off.
She raises a hand and firmly places them on his shoulder.
"...I forbid it."
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Serenity was all that could be described throughout the night. And you, as a person of idle leisure in the evening, appreciated the tranquil breeze that brush past your cheek. A soft sigh escapes your lips, falling into deep thought. What is there to do? With the last 28 hours you were given to decide on an answer, you're left quite bewildered. Tapping your fingernails on the terrace by muscle memory, your train of thought was disturbed when you head familiar foot steps behind you.
You turn around to see a sight of dignified beauty, standing before your sleepless eyes. Arlecchino's presence, despite the abruption, quickly calmed your disgruntled nerves down.
But something was wrong. Before you could ask about the residual crimson stains on her cheek and darkened hands, she speaks in a tone softer than any voice you've heard her.
"If I may ask, my dove, could you marry someone with an absent ring finger?"
Wow. What a random question. Completely uncalled for. Maybe the ungodly hours of the night got to her? Despite the conspiracies flowing through your mind, you try hard to think of an answer.
"Hmm. I should rephrase that. Could you marry a man with no fingers?" Arlecchino ponders out loud, "Despite a marriage contract, you must need a ring to put on his finger, right? Quite a shame, really.."
"No, I don't think so. Wedding rings are to be put on ring fingers, if I recall correctly."
"That's a relief." You raise a brow, completely lost. You gaze at Arlecchino, a subtle triumphant look paints her expression, her fingers play around with her numerous rings that sit comfortably on her fingers. Taking one out, she approaches your figure.
"May I embrace you, my lady?" Suddenly, the Harbingers sultry voice was sullen, sulking. My, what's up with this woman? A moment ago she shows up with (possibly) blood around her person, and now she's asking for sudden physical contact? After just a consonant of the reply 'Yes' was uttered, Arlecchino quickly took you in her arms, embracing you deeply— taking in your presence wholely.
"How I wish I could rid you the scent of that swine." She loosens her grip for a moment, putting a stray hair strand behind your ear. All this feels like a fever dream.. you remember that just mere hours ago, Arlecchino's face looked grim and unpleasant when she received news of your sudden proposal— her reaction left you perplexed. You thought it would be a good idea since Farlahr was a good business partner of hers, why the grim expression?
You pat her back comfortingly. Before you could say anything, Arlecchino quickly lets go of you, standing perfectly straight. Her face once again unreadable— she speaks in a calm and collected manner.
"That fool said that if you'd marry him, you would be set for life." She recounts, almost irritated. Arlecchino's crimson crosses gaze was away from you, but hands traced their way back to your arms, carefully holding them in hers. Her thumbs brush the back of your hands affectionately, with tenderness and care in her voice. Arlecchino's knee made contact with the floor, and her hands delicately handled yours as if they were the most precious thing in the world.
"You must marry me. All he could offer you, I could provide tenfold."
All of the sudden, the wind started to pick up, and the ethereal lady before you never looked so grand. Her monochromatic hair danced with the cool breeze, and her crimson eyes looked from above, transfixed on your figure. Your throat felt like there was too many words you could spit out in one go, and you were terrified that you'd ruin the atmosphere by stammering over your words.
"Marry me so you are mine to gratify. This is a promise I can keep, unlike that farce. Even at your grave, my everlasting flames will be buried with you in the dirt where you lay— in turn that you will never freeze from the cold kiss of death." The Harbinger adds, tenderly placing a peck on your knuckles. Her gaze could contest even the eyes of Archons at this very moment, possessing full confidence that upholds the standards of her capabilities.
Compared to her, what could a limbless man offer you?
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my dumbass just woke up and decided to edit it a bit cus I was writing this at like, 3AM LMAOO, hello (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) its me again, just dipping my toes in the water to see if I could still write 🤔
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skrrra · 2 days
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father
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Finally Arlecchino came home! Waited for her two years, damn I love her design so much. She is one of the most interesting characters
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notpercieved · 1 day
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I just realized Arlecchino doesnt even use polearm arm at all, she was more adept at using the sword😭 the one that uses polearm is CLERVIE
And the fact that the current arlecchino uses polearm makes me uUHEUGH-/pos
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the-sayuri-rin · 2 days
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Childe to Arle: Hey! Wanna spar?! I've always dreamed of sparring with you! Arle: What a sweet little daydream that is. Traveler to Arle: May I test my skills against you? Arle: Fine with me. Childe somewhere in Fontaine: *sneezes*
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kiwisandpearls · 23 hours
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spiders 🕷️🕸️
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akiyamy · 2 days
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spent a whole day drawing this beautiful woman, no regrets at all
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gohaejoon · 3 days
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okay yuri week
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urmomwilljudgeme · 1 day
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its a lil funny that i started drawing something from genshin only 2 years after i stopped playing it...
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arachnico · 2 months
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Welcome, Father.
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knavesflames · 2 days
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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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koideres · 21 days
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my husband
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olspirt · 3 days
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This is probably the worst thing ive ever made
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knvarlet · 6 days
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no thoughts head empty just arlecchino
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notpercieved · 2 days
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Arlecchino seeing Clervie try to defy their fate by constantly getting into fights with her mother, and even round up all the kids to try and avoid their doom.
But at the end she had to watch her best friend come into the realization that the only freedom she will ever get a choice to have is death.
Arlecchino has always known that trying to defy fate in itself is futile, she even got a harsh proof of it right in front of her.
But she never gave up.
She kept trying to defy fate, ranging from killing her "mother" And making the house a better place to trying so hard to find a way or ANY way so they can defy the prophecy that all fontainians will get washed away despite her not being fontainian.
She KNOWS that defying fate is futile but she still tries so hard to do so just because what if there truly is a benefit to holding on to such a fleeting wish.
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