good karma, my aesthetic

ARLECCHINO

for those who find beauty in danger, love in the shadows, and warmth in the coldest of hearts; this one is for you.

FANFICS

'til I'm burning on your back

Though your love for her burns fiercely, she only sees you as a loyal shadow; a constant presence, never the choice.

movin' on was always easy for me to do

After months of heartbreak following your breakup, you are unable to move on from Peruere. After all, it hits different if it’s her.

beneath leather and lace

You and Arlecchino thrive on a dangerous game of pretend hatred—where every stolen glance and forbidden touch threatens to unravel a secret neither of you can resist.

but what would you do if I...

In the dangerous world of espionage, loyalty is fleeting, and desire is a weapon.

dearest, darling, my universe

As war looms and treachery brews from within the ranks, both of you cling to the fragile hope of love. But in the cold, brutal world, sacrifice is inevitable, and fate has already woven a tragic ending.

heaven denied, destiny decried

While you try to accept the heartbreak and start anew, she remains—haunted by memories, unwilling to let go, endlessly waiting for a return that may never come.

crimson ties

Forced into an uneasy alliance, you and Arlecchino must navigate the ruins on a high-stakes mission. Tension crackles between you both—rivalry, mistrust, and something else unspoken.

and in a blink of a crinkling eye... (Valentine's Edition fic)

Between late-night study sessions, stolen glances, and an undeniable pull, love finds its way into your story, making college an unforgettable chapter in your lives.

she saw forever so she smashed it up

Arlecchino only knows how to hold tightly and destroy. Left broken, you wonder if fixing yourself will make her miss you, if she will ever regret what she has done.

and i was like, 'why are you so obsessed with me?'

From lurking outside movie premieres to slipping into private events, Arlecchino's presence is impossible to ignore. Yet, you refuse to acknowledge her, keeping an unbothered and confident facade, even as her obsession escalates.

you're the loml

You and Arlecchino had built a quiet, beautiful life together—a haven of warmth hidden from the chaos of the world. She was your everything, the love of your life. But life is cruel, and it took her away too soon. Now, you’re left wandering through the ruins of what was, struggling to make sense of a world without her.

how'd you turn it right around?

After a painful breakup, you swore you wouldn’t fall in love again. The wounds are still fresh, the memories still sharp. Then Arlecchino walks into your life—steady, unwavering, and utterly unexpected.

jealousy, jealousy

When a noblewoman at a diplomatic event starts flirting with Arlecchino, testing the boundaries of your patience, you’re forced to confront the ugly, burning jealousy you never wanted to admit existed. Does Arlecchino even notice? Or worse—does she enjoy the attention?

MATURE FANFICS

operating room confidential

Neurosurgeon Arlecchino is known for her precise hands and icy professionalism, but when it comes to you—her favorite ER nurse—her self-control is constantly tested. After a particularly grueling shift, you find yourselves alone in an empty on-call room, and all the tension that’s been simmering between you two finally reaches its breaking point.

potchi's 'what if...' series

YANDERE! Arlecchino Headcanon & Short fic

Arlecchino Vs. Brainrot (featuring the Fontaine Trio)

Valentine's Day with Arlecchino

Fangirl Arlecchino (featuring Popstar Reader)

Father Arlecchino (like for real, she's a dad) | Father Arlecchino (like for real, she's a dad) - part 2 | Father Arlecchino (like for real, she's a dad) - part 3

The Ice-Cold Prodigy & The ER Chaos Magnet

💌 Requests are open! Feel free to suggest prompts or ideas. Happy reading!

a/n: holy shit u guys, ive been gone for 2 months STRAIGHT pushing 3 and i am so SO sorry. i had to prioritize my studies and clinical rotations first PLUS we had research on top of that; i DIED goodness gracious. luckily its my summer vacation and i can now publish this one arle fanfic thats been gathering dust and cobwebs. anyways i have a very short announcement later so pls stay tuned!!

It always started the same way.

A dress tailored to perfection. Makeup flawless. Your name echoing off the walls as a crowd swarmed like waves, surging, hungry.

Flash. Flash. Smile.

You smiled until your cheeks ached. Laughed until your voice rang hollow. Danced until your feet bled in your heels. And still, you felt alone. Even as they screamed your name. The room was suffocating. Perfume and ego thickened the air until it clung to your skin like heat.

You laughed at another sponsor’s joke. Tilted your head just enough for the cameras. Your lips held the smile; your eyes, the exhaustion.

You were Fontaine’s darling. The star of six critically acclaimed operas. The muse of three couture houses. The heartbreak of a thousand rumors.

And none of them knew you.

You raised a glass of sparkling wine to your lips, but didn’t drink. Your gaze drifted. That’s when you saw her.

Alone. Still. Cutting through the glitter like a blade.

You first saw her at the charity gala — the one where the drinks were too expensive and the air too thick with perfume and lies. You knew who she was, of course. Everyone did. Not by formal introduction, but by whisper and myth.

And yet, here she was, arms folded, eyes cold but not cruel. You couldn’t explain why, but your feet moved before you could stop them.

You approached her like a ripple across still water.

She leaned against a pillar in white and red, no drink, no interest in flattery. While everyone else leaned in, she watched. "You’re not like the others," you said. "And you're not as happy as you pretend to be," she replied. That was the beginning.

“Not enjoying the festivities?” you asked. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile. “Are you?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?” She turned her gaze back to the crowd. “You're trying so hard to be loved in a room that doesn’t even like you.”

You should’ve been offended. Should’ve walked away. But you’d never felt more seen. “You know who I am?” you asked. “I know who you pretend to be,” she replied.

There was no malice in it. No threat. Only honesty.

You exhaled like it was the first time all night.

-

You sat beside her in the back of the hired car. Neither of you spoke for the first five minutes. Then, she asked, “Where do you want to go?”

Anywhere but here.

You said the words aloud without thinking. She nodded.

The road curled away from the city, into silence. Into stars. You watched her from the corner of your eye as she drove, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting near her knee, fingers loose.

She didn’t speak unless you did. You realized: she wasn’t trying to impress you. She wasn’t trying to do anything except keep you safe.

When she pulled up to her lakehouse, you didn’t question it.

The region of Liffey was a myth in Fontaine. A region so far north that no one bothered with it. Abandoned as it was, it is home to a lake that shimmered like a mirror when the fog rolled in.

She brought you there with nothing but a coat over your dress, makeup still clinging to your eyes from the afterparty you'd abandoned halfway through.

The house was small. Wooden. Wrapped in trees. Moonlight touched the lake behind it like a soft breath.

Inside, it smelled like cedar and faint smoke. She lit a fire while you stood in the middle of the room, shoes in your hand, dress trailing behind you like a memory you were ready to shed.

“I don’t know why I came with you,” you whispered. She looked up. “You were already drowning.”

“And you?” She tilted her head. “I never learned how to swim. But I know how to pull people out.”

Something inside you cracked. Not broken. Just… opened.

She handed you tea. Took off your heels for you. Lit a fire. Sat beside you and said, “You don’t have to explain.” And so, for once, you didn’t.

You slept on the couch that night. She gave you her blanket. Tucked it around you without a word.

You closed your eyes and dreamt of silence. For the first time in years, it didn’t feel like a threat.

a/n: wow u guys ive been dead for long i am so sorry. been terribly busy NOT KIDDING; clinical duties suck so baaad im questioning my choice in course and career. just wanted to remind u all to pls choose what u love; always listen to ur heart (something that i shouldve done sighhh). if u are a college student like me, dont choose a shitty course just to suffer for a shitty career in the future just for some bills. sure yea, u would be raining in money but choose ur happiness and truth above everything else :) anyways, heres my compensation. enjoy! <3

You wake up beside your spouse, the warmth of their body a steady comfort against the morning chill. They stir slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling back into sleep. You should feel safe here. You should feel at home.

Instead, the scent of smoke and the whisper of a familiar voice pull you back into the past.

"Still thinking of me?"

You don't answer. You don't need to. The question isn't real, and neither is she—not in this room, not in this house, not in this life you’ve built.

Yet Arlecchino lingers, as she always does.

She is in the way your fingers twitch to reach for a hand that is no longer yours to hold. She is in the ghost of laughter that brushes against your ears when your spouse tells a joke that should make you laugh. She is in the way your wedding ring feels heavier on some days, the gold pressing against your skin like an unspoken reminder.

It isn’t fair. To you, to your spouse, to the love that has grown around you like ivy, strong and enduring. But the past is not so easily buried, and ghosts are not so easily exorcised.

You see her in the reflection of a window as you pass by, red eyes burning with a silent knowing. You hear her voice woven into the cracks of an old love song playing in the café. You feel her presence when the wind rushes past you, as if carrying whispers only you can hear.

"You were mine once."

The words are never spoken aloud, but they ring in your mind as if they were. And despite everything, despite the life you have now, a traitorous part of you wonders—

Would I have been happier if I had stayed?

Nights are the worst.

Your spouse sleeps soundly beside you, breaths even, chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. But you? You lie awake, staring at the ceiling, tracing patterns in the dark as memories seep in like water through the cracks of your resolve.

The first time you met Arlecchino. The way she looked at you—not just with attraction, but with intent, as if she had already decided you were something she wanted to keep. The way her fingers skimmed your wrist when she handed you a drink, an electric touch that made your breath hitch. The way she called your name, voice low and unreadable, yet laced with something dangerous. Something thrilling.

You had been drawn to her like a moth to a flame, knowing full well that touching her meant getting burned. And yet, you did. You let her consume you, let her press her lips against yours with a hunger that made you forget yourself. She had been so much—too much. Too intense, too devoted, too reckless in the way she loved you, as if you were the only thing in this world that mattered.

But love like that doesn’t last.

At least, that’s what you told yourself when you left.

It had been practical. Rational. A choice made for stability, for a life free of the turbulence that came with Arlecchino. You convinced yourself that love—real love—should not feel like a storm but a quiet, steady stream. That passion like hers was fleeting, unsustainable.

And yet, here you are. Haunted.

You turn onto your side, willing the memories away, but sleep does not come easy.

Morning greets you with the scent of coffee and the soft clinking of porcelain. Your spouse is at the counter, already dressed, offering you a warm smile as they push a steaming cup toward you.

“You were tossing a lot last night,” they say gently. “Bad dreams?”

You shake your head, taking a sip. “Just memories.”

They don’t ask. They never do. Perhaps they know, in some unspoken way, that there are parts of you that do not belong to them. That there is a name buried within your silence, a ghost they can never truly exorcise.

You step outside after breakfast, letting the cool morning air kiss your skin. It’s quiet, peaceful—nothing like the life you once knew with Arlecchino. You tell yourself this is what you wanted.

Then, in the distance, past the morning mist and bustling city streets, you see her.

She’s leaning against the railing of a nearby building, eyes sharp as ever, posture relaxed yet unreadable. As if she had always been there, waiting. As if she had never truly left.

Your heart stutters.

She doesn’t approach. Doesn’t call your name. Just watches.

And then, with the faintest tilt of her lips—

She disappears.

You inhale sharply, the weight in your chest pressing down like an anchor.

Perhaps she really is a ghost. Not in the way of death, but in the way that she will always remain. Unseen yet felt. Unspoken yet present. A presence woven into the very fabric of your being, impossible to erase.

No matter how many mornings you wake up beside someone else.

No matter how much time passes.

Arlecchino lingers.

a/n: hello anon, ty so much for your request <3 this is something that i had in mind as i imagined such scenario. i hope u like it!

The first time you saw Arlecchino, she reminded you of the sea—endless, powerful, and unpredictable. But as she emerged from the depths, sleek black-and-white skin glistening under the moonlight, gills flexing slightly along her neck, you realized she was not just like the sea. She was part of it.

Her form was a striking blend of human and orca—a powerful tail in place of legs, muscular arms lined with subtle bioluminescent markings, sharp yet intelligent eyes that watched you with something more than curiosity. The House of the Hearth was her pod, her family, and she moved among them not as a tyrant, but as a leader who ensured no one was left behind.

You never expected to be included in that.

Yet, here you were, caught in the current of her gaze, feeling the weight of her attention like the depths of the ocean pressing against you.

"You're trembling," Arlecchino murmured, voice smooth like rolling tides as she reached out. Her webbed fingers brushed against your own scales. "Are you afraid of me?"

It wasn't fear—not the kind most creatures felt in her presence. It was something deeper, something harder to name. The way she guided the young members of her pod, how she always positioned herself between them and danger, how she ensured no one drifted alone for too long—it was more than duty. It was instinct, a love as ancient as the tides.

"No," you admitted, your fins twitching slightly in uncertainty. "I'm just... overwhelmed."

Her expression softened, just enough for you to notice. "The ocean is vast," she said after a moment, her tail cutting slow, deliberate arcs through the water. "It can be frightening when you don’t know where you belong. But you’re not lost. Not anymore."

Her words settled something inside you, an anchor in the storm. Because with Arlecchino, love wasn’t fragile or fleeting. It was enduring, like the way orcas stayed with their families for life, bound by something deeper than mere survival.

She circled around you in slow, deliberate motions, the currents shifting with her movements. The sea was her domain, and she navigated it with practiced ease, always keeping you within reach. There was a kind of grace to her presence, a silent promise that she would never let harm come to you—not while she still drew breath.

"Have you ever seen a pod hunt?" she asked suddenly, her gaze flickering to the horizon where the deep waters stretched infinitely. "We move as one, never abandoning our own. Even if one falls behind, the others wait, guide them back. That is how I lead. That is how I protect."

You nodded, watching as she tilted her head slightly, scanning the water with an awareness far beyond your own. She was attuned to every shift in the tides, every flicker of life that passed through the currents. It was mesmerizing.

"And me?" you asked hesitantly. "What am I to you?"

Her tail flicked, bringing her close enough that you could feel the pulse of her warmth despite the cold depths. "You are part of my ocean now," she murmured, voice low, reverent. "You belong here, with me."

The words sank deep, settling in your bones like the weight of the sea itself. You had spent so long drifting, unsure where you fit in the vast expanse of the world. But now, with Arlecchino’s steady presence beside you, you realized—you had found your pod.

Her fingers curled around your wrist, pulling you closer until your bodies nearly touched, the space between you filled only by the soft swirl of water. Her eyes darkened, a quiet intensity settling in them.

"You’re still tense," she observed, her voice softer now, the tide pulling you into her grasp. "I can feel it."

Your breath hitched as she lifted a hand, fingers brushing along your jaw before tilting your chin up. The ocean cradled you both, weightless, yet her presence grounded you more than the seabed ever could.

And then she kissed you.

It was slow, deliberate—like a wave rolling over you, swallowing you whole. Her lips were warm despite the chill of the depths, the pressure firm yet careful, as if she were ensuring you wouldn't slip through her grasp. Her tail moved in a slow, languid motion, keeping you both steady in the water, her arms wrapping around you like the tide itself.

When she finally pulled back, her gaze locked onto yours, searching.

"I told you," she murmured, her forehead pressing lightly against yours. "You’re not lost anymore. You belong here—with me."

And as you melted into her embrace, the ocean itself seemed to echo her words, whispering its quiet approval in the waves around you.

You were never going to be alone again.

a/n: HELLO ANON sorry for making u wait. here is ur request my dear reader, ty for ur request <3

Arlecchino tries to be strict, setting rules and structure, but the second her child gets teary-eyed, she crumbles.

She pretends she’s still in control, but everyone in the House of the Hearth knows the truth.

She’s not one for open coddling, but she’ll ruffle her kid’s hair in passing, adjust their scarf before they go out, and place a protective hand on their back when walking through crowds.

She thinks she’s subtle. She is not.

Her child has somehow turned bedtime into a battleground. They always ask for one more story, one more hug, one more drink of water.

Arlecchino is convinced they’re strategizing against her. She loses every time.

If they push another kid? “They must have had a good reason.” If they get caught sneaking extra sweets? “They’re just resourceful.”

The House of the Hearth kids love pointing out the hypocrisy, but Arlecchino just crosses her arms and dares them to argue.

If her child so much as scrapes their knee, she’s there. If they sneeze? She’s checking the temperature. If they get bullied? She’s having a talk (Lyney has to remind her that maybe a Fatui-level response isn’t necessary).

She tries to teach them discipline, but mostly, she just ends up watching fondly as they flail a wooden sword around, declaring themselves the “strongest in all of Fontaine.”

Her child is doted on by everyone. Lyney is their biggest enabler, sneaking them extra treats. Lynette carries them around like a sleepy cat. Freminet lets them decorate Pers with ribbons.

The older kids take turns playing games with them; Arlecchino pretends not to notice but absolutely notices.

"No, you can’t have ice cream before dinner.” Five minutes later, they’re happily eating ice cream while Arlecchino looks away like she didn’t just give in.

If her child ever looks up at her with those wide, hopeful eyes and asks, “Did I do good?” she melts instantly.

No matter what it is—winning a game, drawing a lopsided picture of her, tying their shoes for the first time—her answer is always the same: “You did perfect.”

(short fic incoming)

Raising one child had been an adjustment. Raising one child surrounded by dozens of orphans was another thing entirely.

At age four, Arlecchino’s child had somehow enlisted half the House of the Hearth into their games. A group of older children were currently playing along, pretending to be “villains” while the youngest one charged at them with their wooden sword.

“I got you!!” they declared, dramatically pointing their sword at Lyney, who clutched his chest like he had been mortally wounded.

“Oh no!” Lyney gasped, stumbling back. “Defeated! By the strongest warrior in all of Fontaine!”

Lynette, watching from the sidelines, flicked an ear. “You’re being dramatic.”

Freminet, who had been pulled into the game against his will, sighed. “I surrender.”

Arlecchino, arms crossed, watched the chaos unfold. She should probably stop them before they got too wild, but… seeing the way her child giggled so freely, surrounded by people who loved them, she let it slide.

“Papa, are you watching?!” her child called out, waving excitedly.

Her lips quirked into a smirk. “Of course.”

Her child puffed out their chest. “Did I do good?”

Arlecchino met their eager, shining eyes and felt her heart swell.

“You did perfect.”

a/n: HI sorry for being inactive again, ive been terribly busy for the past few days (when was i not?). anyways so here is the doctor arle x nurse reader smut fic that i promised; this is quite the challenge honestly bcs ive been retired from writing smut but then again, i havent really written anything arlecchino smut related so here we are. this is my longest work yet since i mostly specialize in short angsty fics. very challenging but i welcome such challenges to exercise my writing skills. anyways, pls enjoy!

The on-call room was dimly lit, the faint hum of hospital machinery the only sound between you and Arlecchino. The exhaustion from your shift weighed heavily on your shoulders, but not as much as the weight of her gaze.

"You overwork yourself," she murmured, voice steady but laced with something else—something darker.

You huffed a tired laugh, leaning against the small cot in the room. "That’s rich, coming from you, Doctor."

Arlecchino stepped closer, and your breath hitched as she reached out, fingers brushing against your wrist. It was such a simple touch, yet it sent a shiver down your spine. She was always so controlled, so careful, but tonight, that control seemed razor-thin.

"You should take better care of yourself," she continued, and though her tone was firm, there was an unmistakable softness in her touch as she traced the bandage on your arm—the one she had placed earlier that night.

Your pulse quickened. "And if I don’t?"

Her lips curled into a ghost of a smirk, her crimson eyes darkening as she leaned in, pressing her body just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from her.

"Then I'll just have to do it for you," she murmured, her breath fanning against your ear.

You swallowed hard. The air was thick with tension, an unspoken challenge passing between you. It had always been like this—stolen glances, lingering touches, unspoken promises left hanging in the space between duty and desire. But tonight, there was no operating room. No sterile professionalism to hide behind.

Just the two of you.

And the moment she closed the distance, pressing her lips against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, you knew there was no turning back.

Her hands, usually so steady with a scalpel, now traced fire along your skin. The kiss deepened, her tongue sweeping against yours with an urgency that made your knees weak. You barely registered her guiding you back onto the cot until your back hit the mattress, her body pressing against yours, the scent of antiseptic and something uniquely her flooding your senses.

"You drive me insane," she muttered against your lips, her hands slipping beneath your scrubs, fingers tracing along your waist.

You let out a shaky exhale, gripping her coat to pull her closer. "Then do something about it."

Her low chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, and the last thread of restraint snapped. Arlecchino's lips curled into a smirk as she noticed your nervousness. She enjoyed seeing the effect she had on others, especially those who worked for her.

“Good," she said, her tone firm yet seductive. “Now, let's see if you can handle the pressure.” Without warning, Arlecchino grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you close. You gasped, your face flushed as you found herself pressed against the doctor's body. “Dr. Arlecchino, what are you--?” Arlecchino silenced your protest with a firm kiss, her full lips crashing against yours in a display of raw dominance. 

Your eyes widened in shock, but soon found yourself melting into the passionate embrace, your own desires beginning to surface. Arlecchino's cursed hands roamed your body, groping and exploring every curve. She broke the kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting more. “You're mine now,” Arlecchino growled possessively, her voice thick with lust. “And I take care of what's mine.” Arlecchino's hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as she backed you up against the wall. She pinned you in place with her body, curves pressing together in a way that sent electric jolts of desire between you and her.

“I'm going to break you, miss nurse,” Arlecchino purred, nipping at the sensitive skin below your ear. “Mold you into the perfect toy, ready and eager to please me.” Her hand slid up your thigh, pushing the skirt of your uniform higher. Arlecchino's touch was firm and demanding, leaving no room for hesitation or refusal. 

“Say you're mine” 

Your breath hitched as Arlecchino's fingers brushed against your inner thigh, teasing and tantalizing. You knew well enough that you should resist, should push the doctor away and report this inappropriate behavior. However the allure of submission, the dark desire to be claimed and controlled, was too powerful to ignore. “I'm yours, Peruere,” you whispered, her voice trembling with a blend of fear and longing. “Please…”

Arlecchino chuckled, a low, seductive sound that reverberated through the nurse's body. “That's right, Miss nurse. You belong to me now.” Arlecchino's hand slipped beneath your panties, her fingers finding the wet heat between your legs. She groaned softly at the discovery, her touch becoming more insistent and demanding. “Already so wet for me,” Arlecchino murmured, her thumb circling your clit in maddening patterns. “Such a needy little thing, aren't you?” You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily against Arlecchino's hand. The doctor's touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body. “Please, Peruere,” you begged.

Arlecchino's crimson lips curled into a wicked smile as she listened to your desperate pleas. She reveled in the power she held over you, the control she exerted with just a touch.

“What do you want, Miss nurse?” Arlecchino cooed, her fingers continuing their torturous dance. “Beg for it. Beg for me to make you feel good.” Your face flushed a deeper shade of red, embarrassment battling with the overwhelming desire consuming you. You knew you shouldn't want this, shouldn't crave the doctor's touch so desperately. But the ache between your legs grew stronger with each passing second, demanding to be satisfied.

“Please, pretty please Peruere,” Your voice cracked with desperation as you finally gave in to her deepest desires. “Please, touch me more. I need you to make me feel good. I'll do anything you want, just please don't stop.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Arlecchino's lips, her eyes gleaming with triumph and lust. She loved breaking in her toys, watching them surrender to her every command. “That's a good girl,” Arlecchino purred, rewarding the nurse's obedience with a gentle kiss. Her fingers slipped lower, teasing the entrance to your dripping core. “I'm going to make you feel things you've never experienced before. I'm going to ruin you for anyone else.” With a swift movement, Arlecchino plunged two fingers deep into your tight heat, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. She pumped her fingers in and out, setting a relentless pace that left you breathless and writhing against the wall.

“So tight,” Arlecchino growled, her free hand gripping your hip possessively. “So perfect for me. You were made to be mine, weren't you?” You could only nod frantically, her words lost in a tangle of moans and whimpers. Arlecchino's fingers were magic, stoking the flames of her desire and for a moment, you thought you might combust from the intensity. “More, please more,” Arlecchino's fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made stars explode behind your eyes. You gasped, back arching off the wall as waves of pleasure crashed over your body. ”That's it, Miss nurse,” Arlecchino cooed, her voice thick with lust. “Let go. Give yourself to me completely.”

Your body trembled, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Arlecchino's thumb circled your clit, pushing you over the precipice. You cried out, orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave, leaving you weak and shaking in the doctor's arms. As you came down from your high, Arlecchino slowly withdrew her fingers, bringing them to her lips and licking them clean with a satisfied hum. “Delicious,” she purred, her eyes never leaving your flushed face. “I knew you'd taste divine.” You blushed even deeper, mortified by the doctor's brazen actions yet still craving more of her touch. Arlecchino chuckled, “Don't worry, Miss nurse, we are far from done.”

Arlecchino spun you around, pressing your front against the cool wall. She hiked up your skirt furthur, exposing her round, firm ass to the doctor's hungry gaze. “I'm going to fuck you now,” Arlecchino declared, her voice leaving no room for argument. “I'm going to claim this tight little pussy as mine.”

You whimpered, anticipation and nervousness warring within you. You had never done anything like this before, never been taken so roughly and dominantly. But your body ached for it, craving the feeling of Arlecchino's cock splitting you open. “Please, Peruere,” you begged. Arlecchino unfastened her pants, freeing her large, throbbing cock. She rubbed the tip against your dripping entrance, teasing her with the promise of what was to come. “Beg for it,” Arlecchino commanded, her voice a low, seductive growl. “Beg me to fuck you, to make you mine.”

Your face burned with shame and desire, body trembling with need. You knew she should resist from the beginning, however you were far too deep to back out and the dark, forbidden pleasure was too tempting to ignore. “Please, Peruere. Fuck me; breed me with your large cock” you cried. Satisfied, Arlecchino's grip on your hips tightened, her nails digging into the soft flesh as she lined up her thick cock with your soaked entrance.

With one powerful thrust, she buried herself deep inside your tight heat, stretching her wide around her impressive girth. “Fuck, you're so tight,” Arlecchino groaned, relishing the way your walls fluttered around her. “Such a good little slut for me, taking my cock so well.”

You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure as Arlecchino filled you completely. The doctor set a brutal pace, pounding into you with animalistic fervor, claiming her roughly and possessively. “Yes, yes, oh god!” Arlecchino's hips snapped forward, driving her thick cock deeper into your tight cunt. Your walls clenched around her, trying to pull her in even further. Arlecchino growled, a primal sound of possession and lust. “This is where you belong, miss nurse,”

Arlecchino rasped, her voice rough with desire. “Stretched out on my cock, milking me for every drop. I'm going to fill this fertile little pussy with my seed, breed you like the needy bitch you are.”

You moaned, body shaking with the force of Arlecchino's thrusts. Each powerful stroke sent shockwaves, building the pressure inside you. “Please, Peruere, please fill me,” you begged. Arlecchino's pace became frenzied, her hips slamming against your ass with enough force. The lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echoed through the office, mingling with the nurse's desperate cries and Arlecchino's dominant growls.

“Take it,” Arlecchino commanded, her cock pulsing inside the nurse's tight heat. “Take every inch of my cock like the good little breeder you are. I'm going to pump you full of my cum, make this belly swell with my child.”

Your body quivered, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. Arlecchino reached around, her fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles. You screamed, orgasm crashing over as your pussy spasmed around Arlecchino's cock, squirting your juices down the doctor's thighs.

“Fuck, yes,” Arlecchino let out a feral growl as the nurse's pussy squeezed her cock, the rhythmic contractions milking her towards her own climax. She slammed into you one last time, burying herself balls-deep as her cock throbbed and pulsed, unleashing a torrent of hot, thick cum directly into your fertile womb.

“That's it, miss nurse,” Arlecchino rasped, her hips grinding against your ass as she emptied herself inside you. “Take my seed, let it fill you up. You're mine now, forever.” You whimpered, body still shaking from the aftershocks of the intense orgasm. You could feel Arlecchino's cum dripping out of your used hole, marking her as the doctor's property.

“Such a good girl,” Arlecchino said as she pulled out slowly, admiring the sight of her cum leaking from your well-fucked pussy. She ran her fingers through the mess, gathering some of her essence before pushing it back inside your twitching hole.

“Keep it all inside, miss nurse,” Arlecchino ordered, her voice still rough with lust. “Don't waste a single drop of my seed. You're going to keep it nice and warm for me.” You nodded weakly, legs trembling as you tried to stay upright. Arlecchino wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you close.

“You did so well, taking my cock like that,” Arlecchino buried herself deep inside your sopping wet pussy one last time and held it there, “A nice, big cockwarming for my favorite nurse. Keep it all nice and warm inside you, like a good girl.”

You shivered, feeling Arlecchino's softening cock filling you up as she carried you all the way to her desk and settled you down on her lap. Arlecchino helped you turn around, pulling you into a gentle embrace. You melted into the doctor's arms, body still trembling from the intensity of their coupling.

“Shh, I've got you,” Arlecchino gently said as she leaned down and peppered you with the softest kisses around your face. Silence settled in the aftermath, heavy with lingering heat and quiet breaths. She didn’t pull away, instead tracing lazy patterns against your bare skin.

Eventually, you found your voice. "So… is this where you tell me this was a terrible lapse in judgment and it can never happen again?" Arlecchino chuckled, a rare, low sound that sent shivers down your spine. "No." She pressed a slow kiss against your shoulder before murmuring, "This is where I tell you it’s going to happen again."

And damn, you couldn’t wait.

a/n: this is straight out of a kdrama im fawning waa. mind u, these scenarios dont happen irl; take it from me, a nursing student. you'd be drowning in work which leaves NO SPACE AT ALL for workplace romance. also imagine our beloved as a neurosurgeon hehe thats so fucking hot. anyways, enjoy my friends!

Arlecchino is known for her strict, no-nonsense demeanor. In the Neurosurgery ward, the surgical residents fear her, the other doctors respect her, and the hospital board sees her as an untouchable prodigy.

You, on the other hand, are a ball of warmth and chaos, the kind of nurse who cracks jokes between rounds and offers comfort to terrified patients. Opposites, yet somehow, you make sense together.

Everyone swears Arlecchino doesn't have favorites—until they see the way her gaze lingers on you. She never outright flirts, but her eyes tell a different story when she watches you move through the ER, seamlessly keeping the department afloat.

Since your shifts rarely align perfectly, the few moments you share outside of patient care often happen in the empty cafeteria at ungodly hours. She’ll bring you coffee exactly the way you like it, and you’ll tease her for eating the same protein bar every night.

Arlecchino never voices her concern outright, but every time you handle a difficult patient, she somehow appears—whether it’s to subtly station herself nearby or to ensure security is watching.

The one time you actually got hurt? She made sure the hospital policy on nurse safety was rewritten within the week.

She doesn’t do casual touches with anyone. Not with her residents, not with her colleagues—no one. But when it comes to you? A steadying hand on your lower back when you’re exhausted, a firm grasp on your wrist when she’s patching up a cut, fingers brushing against yours when handing you a file… It’s always justified, but the tension is there, and it’s impossible to ignore.

(short fic incoming)

It had been a long night. The kind of night where the fluorescent lights buzzed a little too loudly, where the scent of antiseptic clung to your skin, and where your scrubs were stained with things you’d rather not think about.

You exhaled, rubbing your temples as you leaned against the nurses’ station. The ER had been brutal—two code blues, a multiple-vehicle collision, and an aggressive patient who had nearly taken a swing at you before security intervened.

The tension in your shoulders barely had a chance to ease before a familiar voice cut through the noise.

"You're bleeding."

You blinked up at her—Doctor Arlecchino, the hospital’s most renowned neurosurgeon. Even in the chaos of the ER, she remained untouched, pristine in her white coat. Her crimson eyes flickered toward your arm, where a shallow cut from an earlier struggle with a combative patient had begun to sting.

"It's nothing," you dismissed, shaking your head. "Just a scratch."

Arlecchino didn’t look convinced. Without another word, she grabbed a gauze pad from the nearby cart and reached for your wrist. You expected her to be rough—she was known for her precision, not her gentleness—but her touch was careful, almost hesitant.

"You shouldn't have been dealing with that patient alone," she muttered, pressing the gauze against your skin.

You scoffed lightly. "It's the ER. It happens."

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw something unspoken in her expression—something like frustration, but deeper, heavier.

"You act like you're invincible," she said, voice quiet but firm. "You're not."

You let out a breathless laugh. "And you act like you don’t care."

Arlecchino froze, just for a second. Then, with almost painful precision, she secured a bandage over your wound and straightened up.

"I care," she said simply.

The weight of those two words settled between you, something unspoken crackling like electricity.

Before you could respond, a loud commotion erupted from the other side of the ER. Another emergency. Another patient. Another battle to fight.

You stepped away first, flashing her a tired smile. "Duty calls, doc."

She watched as you disappeared into the chaos once more. And though her job lay in the steady, calculated world of the operating room, she knew—her heartbeat was now in sync with the madness of yours.

Long after most of the hospital had quieted down, you were sitting outside near the ambulance bay. The cool air a much-needed break from the suffocating intensity of your shift.

Arlecchino found you there, hands in the pockets of her coat, her usual composed demeanor slightly cracked at the edges.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," she said, though there was no real reprimand in her tone.

You huffed a tired laugh. "You say that a lot."

She sat beside you on the bench, silent for a moment. Then—

"I meant what I said earlier."

You turned to look at her, confusion flickering across your face.

"In the ER. When I said I care," she clarified, her gaze steady.

Your breath hitched slightly. She was close—closer than she usually allowed herself to be. The hospital’s golden rule about professionalism felt laughably distant in this moment, the space between you charged with something neither of you had dared to name.

"You don't have to say that just because I almost got decked by a patient," you teased, trying to lighten the moment.

Arlecchino didn’t take the bait. "I'm saying it because it's true."

The air grew heavier, and suddenly, you were hyper-aware of the way her eyes flickered down—just for a second—to your lips. It was quick, almost imperceptible, but you caught it.

You made the first move.

Or maybe she did.

Either way, the second your lips met, it was like the world stilled. Arlecchino wasn’t hesitant, but she was careful—like she was still calculating, still making sure she didn’t break something fragile. But when you deepened the kiss, fingers ghosting over her jaw, she finally let go of that impossible control.

The hospital doors slid open in the distance, a reminder that this moment couldn’t last forever. But before either of you could pull away completely, she exhaled against your lips—soft, breathless.

"…You're reckless," she murmured, resting her forehead against yours.

You grinned. "And I love you too."

She didn’t deny it as she leaned for one more.

a/n: hehe i like olivia rodrigo's song off from her album sour. this is so cool to make honestly, pls enjoy!!

The grand ballroom of the Fontaine Embassy in Snezhnaya gleamed with golden chandeliers and polished marble floors. Diplomats and high-ranking officials mingled, their laughter and chatter blending with the soft notes of a string quartet. You should have been enjoying the evening, basking in the rare opportunity to see Arlecchino in something other than her usual Harbinger attire—dressed in tailored silver with red accents, looking like she belonged on a throne rather than among these scheming aristocrats.

But you weren’t enjoying yourself.

Not when a noblewoman, a high-ranking official’s daughter, had draped herself far too close to Arlecchino, her painted lips curled in amusement as she toyed with the rim of her wine glass.

“You must be the infamous Knave,” the woman purred, her fingers lightly tracing the intricate embroidery of Arlecchino’s sleeve. “I’ve heard so many… fascinating things about you.”

Arlecchino merely smirked, sipping her wine. “Have you now?”

Your jaw tightened. You were across the room, nursing your own drink, but you could see everything—how the woman tilted her head, how she leaned in as though Arlecchino was hers to claim. And worst of all? Arlecchino didn’t pull away.

You’d never considered yourself the jealous type. You trusted Arlecchino with your life, and you knew she was devoted to you in a way that words couldn’t fully capture. But something about the way that woman looked at her, as if she had a chance—

You downed the rest of your drink, your fingers clenching around the delicate glass.

Fine. If Arlecchino was going to let someone flirt with her, then maybe you’d return the favor.

Your eyes swept the room before landing on someone—a young noble, charming enough, standing not too far from you. They had been eyeing you throughout the night, clearly intrigued, and right now, you were more than willing to use that to your advantage.

You made your way toward them, adopting an effortless smile. “This party is dreadfully dull, don’t you think?”

They blinked before smiling back. “It certainly lacks excitement.”

“I suppose we’ll have to create our own, then.” Your voice was playful, your fingers ghosting over the rim of your glass the way the noblewoman had done to Arlecchino’s. If she wanted to play games, you could play them better.

For a moment, it worked. The noble laughed, engaging in easy conversation, even going so far as to place a hand on your arm. And just as you began to feel some semblance of triumph—

The air shifted.

A dark presence loomed behind you, and before you could turn, a gloved hand slipped around your waist, pulling you back against a firm body. A familiar body.

Arlecchino.

The noble in front of you stiffened immediately, their eyes darting between you and the Harbinger at your back. You could almost hear the way their breath caught, the way their thoughts screamed at them to leave before they became collateral damage.

“Apologies,” Arlecchino murmured, her voice deceptively soft, yet laced with something far more dangerous. “I must steal them away.”

The noble didn’t argue. They practically bowed before scurrying off, leaving you alone in Arlecchino’s grasp.

She didn’t let go.

You swallowed, the heat of her body pressed against yours sending conflicting shivers down your spine. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

Your heart pounded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Arlecchino hummed, and suddenly, you were being led away—not onto the dance floor, but out of the ballroom entirely. Down a dimly lit corridor, away from prying eyes.

You barely had time to question it before she turned you to face her, crimson eyes gleaming. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Your breath hitched. “You didn’t seem to mind when she was all over you.”

A smirk ghosted over her lips. “You were jealous.”

“You enjoyed it.”

Arlecchino exhaled a quiet laugh before leaning in, her hands caging you against the wall behind you. “If I enjoyed anything,” she murmured, voice slow and deliberate, “it was seeing you try to get back at me.”

Your pulse jumped as her fingers traced along your wrist, up to your shoulder, slow and teasing. “Did you really think I’d let you flirt with someone else?”

“I—”

She cut you off with a kiss—not soft, not gentle, but claiming. Possessive. It left you breathless, dizzy, your earlier frustration melting into something far more intoxicating. When she pulled away, her forehead pressed against yours, her smirk was still there, but softer now.

“Mine,” she murmured. “Only mine.”

You exhaled, dazed. “Yours.”

And just like that, the fire in your chest shifted—no longer jealousy, but something much sweeter. Something undeniably, irrevocably hers.

a/n: damn this one is kinda hard to write bcs its a feeling that ive felt before but never again in a million years, haah ive never felt jealous of my own fic. anyways pls enjoy!!

The heartbreak from your ex was supposed to last longer.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. That’s what everyone tells you, too. Love isn’t something you just shake off. It lingers. It seeps into the corners of your life like ink on a page, staining everything it touches.

But then there was her.

You don’t know when Arlecchino became a fixture in your life. Maybe it was the first time she found you sitting alone in a quiet cafe, staring blankly at your reflection in the window. She sat down without invitation, her presence unsettlingly steady.

“You always look so lost,” she had mused, studying you with those sharp, discerning eyes. “Like you’re searching for something you already know is gone.”

You should’ve told her to leave. You should’ve avoided the way her voice curled around you like a question you wanted to answer. But you didn’t. Instead, you let her stay, let her talk, let her presence settle into the spaces that had been hollowed out by heartbreak.

Falling in love again was the last thing on your mind. It was supposed to be impossible, even.

But Arlecchino never followed rules, did she?

It starts slow.

A touch that lingers just a second too long. The way her gaze softens when she catches you lost in thought. The sound of your name in her voice, steady and certain. She isn’t a force of destruction, not the way love had been before. She doesn’t consume. She doesn’t demand. She simply stays.

And that terrifies you.

Because love isn’t supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be sharp edges and breathless chases, the frantic need to prove you’re enough before someone decides you’re not. Love was supposed to be fleeting, cruel in the way it let you believe it would last before vanishing like smoke.

You told yourself you weren’t ready. That you wouldn’t let yourself fall again. But love isn’t something you control, is it?

“I see the way you hesitate,” Arlecchino says one evening, voice softer than usual. “Like you’re afraid I’ll leave if you reach for me.”

Your breath catches. “I don’t know how to do this again.”

She exhales slowly, then—soft, measured. “Then don’t think of it as ‘again.’ Think of it as something new.”

Something new.

The thought makes your pulse stutter. But when she reaches for your hand, you don’t pull away. Not this time.

Falling in love with Arlecchino isn’t like the first time you fell in love.

It isn’t a storm. It isn’t a labyrinth of dead ends and unanswered questions.

It’s a steady flame, unwavering even when you try to blow it out. It’s the quiet kind of love—the kind that sneaks up on you in the middle of laughter, in the warmth of shared silences, in the simple comfort of knowing that someone is choosing you, day after day.

But the fear lingers. Some nights, when sleep evades you, the memories creep in. The pain of before, the ache of betrayal. You wonder if you’re just setting yourself up for another fall.

“You’re overthinking,” Arlecchino murmurs one night, catching you lost in your thoughts again. She’s beside you on the couch, feet tucked beneath her, idly tracing patterns on the back of your hand. “You do that a lot.”

You sigh. “I can’t help it.”

She studies you for a moment before speaking. “You don’t have to rush this, you know. We don’t have to name it. We don’t have to define it. Just… let it be.”

Let it be.

When was the last time you did that? When was the last time you let love be something that didn’t have to be earned, something that simply existed?

Arlecchino’s patience should unnerve you. It should make you run. But instead, it grounds you. And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to stop running.

Girlfailure Arlecchino Looks deeply betrayed the first time the baby refuses to stop crying despite her doing everything right.

Holds up a bottle like it’s an unfamiliar weapon. "Why is this so small? My hand barely fits around it."

Tries to maintain her composed reputation but completely panics the first time the baby spits up on her coat. (“They are… rejecting my presence.” “No, Perrie, babies just do that.”)

Attempts to bathe the baby for the first time and treats it like a high-stakes mission. “If I drop them—” “You won’t drop them, Arle.” “But if I did—”

Gets way too serious about tummy time. "You expect me to let them struggle on purpose?"

Tries to keep a straight face but visibly melts the first time the baby smiles at her.

The orphans are fascinated by the baby. To them, Arlecchino is the strongest person alive, so seeing her care for such a tiny, fragile thing is mind-blowing.

Some of the younger kids are completely awestruck. "So small…!" The older ones pretend to be cool about it but keep peeking into the nursery like they’re on an important mission.

A few try to act as self-proclaimed "big siblings," (lyney, lynette, freminet) offering to help in the most unhelpful ways.

"Father, I can teach them how to fight." "They can’t even sit up yet, Lynette."

One particularly nosy kid asks, “Do they have a Vision yet?” Arlecchino just gives them a flat stare.

At first, she tries to keep her roles separate, but the House of the Hearth kids keep finding ways to sneak into the nursery.

Eventually, she sighs and lets the most well-behaved ones stay, though under strict rules. “If you wake them, you deal with the consequences.”

To her surprise, the children are incredibly gentle, some sitting quietly just to watch the baby.

One day, she walks in to find a group of them gathered around the crib, whispering stories to the baby as if introducing them to their new family.

Freminet clumsily offers the baby a stuffed toy version of Pers. "For when they get bigger."

One of the orphans shyly asks, “Will they be part of the House of the Hearth too?” Arlecchino takes a long pause before replying, “They will always have a home here.”

Late one night, when the baby refuses to sleep, she finds herself pacing the halls of the orphanage with them in her arms.

Lyney, Lyenette, & Freminet sleepily watches from their bedroom door. "Father, you look tired." She chuckles, exhaustion evident in her eyes. "I am."

Freminet hesitates before whispering, "You always took care of us. Let us help too."

Arlecchino doesn’t respond immediately—but later, she lets them keep watch while the baby naps.

(short fic incoming)

The House of the Hearth had always been a place of discipline and order, built upon the foundation of strength that Arlecchino upheld. Yet, today, it was filled with something entirely new—gentle laughter, soft coos, and the quiet awe of its inhabitants gathered around the smallest member of their family.

Lyney crouched in front of the crib, twirling a card between his fingers as he examined the wide-eyed baby staring up at him. “You know, I think you have the makings of a great magician already,” he mused. “Those big, curious eyes? The way you watch everything around you? Very promising.”

Lynette stood beside him, her tail flicking slightly as she tilted her head. “They can’t even sit up yet, brother.”

“A minor detail.” He grinned before flicking his wrist, making the card disappear in a swirl of harmless sparks. The baby’s mouth parted in an expression of utter astonishment.

A tiny giggle.

Lyney gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “Did you hear that? Their first audience reaction! I knew they appreciated my talent.”

“They probably just liked the sparkles,” Lynette deadpanned, though her ears twitched in amusement.

Freminet, who had been watching quietly from a short distance, hesitated before stepping forward. Unlike his siblings, he wasn’t quite sure how to interact with someone so small. He had spent years navigating the cold depths of Fontaine’s waters, understanding machines, and working with clockwork devices—but a baby? That was unknown territory.

Still, he crouched down beside the crib, pulling out a small, handcrafted penguin plush from his bag. “Here,” he murmured, placing it gently beside them. “Something to keep you company.”

The baby immediately reached out, small fingers curling around the soft fabric. They let out a delighted squeal, squeezing it tightly.

Arlecchino, standing by the doorway with arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with an unreadable expression. She had expected some level of curiosity from the children she had raised, but what she hadn’t expected was the warmth in her chest seeing them interact so tenderly with her child.

Freminet glanced back at her, eyes uncertain. “Are we… doing it right?”

She blinked.

Lyney turned as well, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ve never had someone so little here before,” he admitted. “I mean, we all grew up together, but they’re… different.”

Arlecchino let out a quiet sigh, stepping closer. She reached down, running a gloved hand over her child’s soft hair before addressing them. “You’re doing fine.” A pause. Then, softer, “Better than fine.”

Lyney beamed. “Then I suppose we have a new little sibling to take care of.”

Lynette gave a small nod. “I suppose so.”

Freminet hesitated before murmuring, “I’ll make sure they have warm clothes when they get older.”

Arlecchino’s lips twitched into the faintest ghost of a smile. “They’ll be lucky to have you all.”

As the baby let out another giggle, this time reaching for Lyney’s hand, Arlecchino knew one thing for certain—her child was not just hers to protect. They were part of a family, one filled with warmth, mischief, and unwavering love.

And in that moment, the House of the Hearth had never felt more like home.

a/n: guess what? we were assigned at the ob-gyne ward and i got inspired to put arlecchino in the shoes of a sweet, loving first-time dad i met while giving health teachings :)

The moment Arlecchino finds out you’re pregnant, she becomes ten times more protective. No one can so much as look at you wrong without facing her wrath.

Despite her stoic and commanding nature, she has a hidden soft side that only emerges when she's alone with you, whispering reassurances and rubbing your belly.

She somehow always manages to find whatever strange food combination you crave, even if it means pulling strings in Fontaine to get it.

Arlecchino often stays awake, watching over you and running her fingers through your hair, making sure you’re comfortable.

Though she pretends to be indifferent about names, you catch her testing out different ones under her breath when she thinks you’re asleep.

The first time the baby kicks, she completely freezes. She’s never been caught off guard before, but this? This is a moment she never expected.

Even before birth, she speaks to your belly in a quiet, almost reverent tone, telling the baby about the world and promising to protect both of you.

Despite being busy with Fatui affairs, she personally oversees preparations for the nursery, ensuring everything is perfect and safe.

If you're in a crowded area, she keeps a firm hand on you at all times, positioning herself between you and any potential threat.

She never thought she'd be the type to enjoy affection, but now she finds herself constantly touching your belly—whether it's a protective hand, a soft rub, or resting her head against it to feel the baby move.

She starts reading stories aloud, even if she scoffs about it, saying, "It’s never too early to teach them discipline."

If you suggest baby-related shopping, she initially grumbles but secretly enjoys picking out tiny clothes and imagining your child in them.

(short fic incoming)

Arlecchino had faced war, betrayal, and the harshest winters of Snezhnaya without so much as a flinch, but nothing in the world had prepared her for this.

You stood before her, your hands gently resting over your abdomen, the ghost of a smile playing at your lips. “I’m pregnant.”

For the first time in her life, the Knave was at a loss for words. The walls she had so carefully built around herself wavered, her crimson gaze flickering between your eyes and the place where new life grew within you.

Pregnant. With her child.

A rush of emotions surged within her—pride, awe, and a fear so profound it nearly brought her to her knees. She took a measured breath, steeling herself as she reached out, fingers barely grazing your belly. “You’re certain?”

You nodded, warmth radiating from your touch as you took her hand fully in yours. “I wouldn’t lie about something like this.”

Arlecchino had never considered herself the parental type. She was a protector, a commander, a shadow in the night who ensured order with an iron will. But now? Now, she was something more—a future father, a provider, and the sole shield between you and the dangers of the world.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she vowed, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Or our child.”

The days that followed were unlike anything you had expected. Arlecchino, usually calm and composed, had become hyper-aware of everything around you. If you so much as sighed in discomfort, she was there in an instant, her hand against your back, her gaze sharp and calculating.

“You need to sit,” she would demand, already guiding you toward the nearest chair.

“Peruere, I’m pregnant, not fragile,” you huffed, though you allowed her to fuss over you.

Her lips pursed. “Same thing.”

At night, she barely slept. You would wake up to find her resting a protective hand over your stomach, her expression unreadable. The weight of impending parenthood was heavy on her shoulders, and yet, she bore it with a quiet, steadfast determination.

When the baby kicked for the first time, she froze. You had been reading in bed, her arm draped lazily over your stomach, when the small but distinct movement pressed against her palm.

Her breath caught. Slowly, her fingers traced over the spot.

“They’re strong already,” she murmured, her voice laced with something you could only describe as reverence.

“Like their father,” you teased.

Her expression softened, and she leaned down to press a rare, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Like their mother.”

As the months passed, her protectiveness only grew. She arranged for the safest medical care, ensured your every craving was met, and personally oversaw every detail of your well-being. The Fatui, ever loyal to her, knew better than to question her sudden shift in priorities.

One night, as you lay curled against her, she whispered, “I never thought I’d have this.”

You tilted your head to look at her. “A family?”

She nodded, crimson eyes flickering with something vulnerable. “I never dared to dream of it. But now that I have you… now that we have them—” Her hand ghosted over your belly, warm and protective. “I won’t let anything take this away from us.”

And in that moment, you knew—for all her strength, all her fearsome reputation, Arlecchino had never been stronger than she was now, holding onto the love she never thought she deserved.

a/n: hehe first fic as a homecoming treat <3 enjoyy!

The sun rose lazily over Fontaine, bathing your shared home in golden light. You woke up to the familiar weight of Arlecchino’s arm draped over your waist, her slow and steady breaths tickling your neck. Mornings like this were your favorite—no rushed missions, no danger lurking around the corner, just you and her tangled in soft sheets.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

You laughed, tracing your fingers over her jawline. “I’m admiring.”

She opened one eye, lips curving into a lazy smirk. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.”

Arlecchino pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer. “I do.”

Your days together were full of quiet tenderness. Cooking side by side, her arms wrapping around you from behind as you tried to focus on chopping vegetables. The sound of her laughter filling the room when you burned a dish beyond saving. The way she would tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear as she listened intently to your ramblings about your day.

Evenings were spent curled up on the couch, her fingers absentmindedly playing with yours as she read. Sometimes she would hum a song—one she had heard in passing but never quite knew the lyrics to. You memorized them for her, filling in the blanks when she faltered.

On rare occasions, she would take you out to the cliffs overlooking the sea, where the stars shone the brightest. There, she would hold you close, whispering about the future you would build together. “One day,” she had mused, “we’ll leave all this behind. Just you and me.”

“We have forever,” she had once said, fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

And you had believed her... because she was the love of your life.

. . .

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the blanket that still smelled like her. You wrapped it around your shoulders, but it did nothing to warm the icy ache in your chest.

She was gone.

It happened too fast. One moment, Arlecchino was standing before you, bloodied but still fighting, still strong. The next, she was crumpling to the ground, her breathing ragged, crimson staining her uniform. You had rushed to her side, hands pressing against the wound, trying to stop the inevitable. “Stay with me,” you had pleaded, voice shaking.

She had given you a weak smile, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t you dare say that,” you choked out. “You promised me forever.”

Her breath hitched. “I know.”

You felt her grip loosen, her body growing colder beneath your touch. And then, she was still. Silent.

The funeral had been a blur—hushed whispers, condolences that barely registered, the weight of loss pressing down on your lungs. But it was the aftermath that hurt the most. The empty space in the bed where she used to sleep. The untouched book on the nightstand, left open to the page she would never finish. The echoes of laughter that only existed in your memory now.

Some days, you swore you could still feel her. A fleeting warmth against your skin, a whisper of her voice in the wind. You reached for her in your sleep, only to wake up with your arms grasping at nothing.

You visited the cliffs one last time, where the sea roared below, indifferent to your grief. Arlecchino had once stood here, eyes filled with dreams of the future. Now, you stood alone, staring at the horizon, feeling as if you had been left behind.

The world moved on, but you couldn’t. The future you had built together had collapsed, leaving you standing in the wreckage, trying to gather pieces that no longer fit.

She was your love. Your home. Your life.

And now she was gone; the lost of your life.