#erineawrites

Following your arrival as the Tsarina's child, Pantalone was given a new alias by the few satirical newspapers in Snezhnaya: "The Hen".

Indeed, as soon as you were able to walk on your own two feet, Pantalone got into the habit of taking you outside the palace.

If any indelicate journalists approached you, you were instructed to hide inside his coat while his bodyguard dealt with the unfortunate journalists.

Your cradle came in very handy, especially during the lavish banquets organized by the Harbingers.

The number of times your beautiful cradle served as an improvised coat rack, nearly suffocating you under the furs.

Note: Fortunately, Sandrone (in coalition with Arlecchino) have come up with a robot nurse, who bears an uncanny resemblance to a Catherine.

One of the biggest blunders you ever made was when you were 13, when you decided to write all the gossip about the Harbingers on the frosted windows and mirrors of the imperial palace.

Which is to say, you were punished severely.

Prayer for a Student.

Note: First Comission, too happy to realize it! I did my best, trying to stick with what you suggested 👍

Includes: Reader, Vassily Nevaskys, Mention of Pantalone and Pulcinella

Tw:

"My goodness..."

The arithmetic book trundled open in front of your desk, amid the Harbingers' paperwork entrusted to you for approval.

You'd promised to help your son with all his homework, but every line of calculation was a gaping wound in your childhood.

Memories of the humiliations you'd suffered, your mediocre grades displayed in front of the public, came back to haunt you.

Even some Harbingers' little reflections made you tense up when they were uttered, whether it was Pulcinella who was surprised to see your face so unopened at the inauguration of the Osbotenk school*.

Or Pantalone's thinly veiled mockery, surprised that such a wise Creator should be thrown off balance by an equation with two unknowns.

You stand up, hands trembling.

"I... I can't," you stammer, staring blankly at your son as he stares at you wide-eyed.

"It's just... it's hard for me," you finally murmur, your voice trembling as your son tries as best he can to keep you conscious. He knew that these crises made you vulnerable, and that was the last thing you wanted to show the other Harbingers.

As you regain consciousness, a gentle hand offers its assistance. The wedding ring visible on her ring finger comforts you a little, recognizing the clothing mix between her Khaenri'ah toga and Snezhnaya fur.

"Vassily!" you urge, clutching his long toga, cursing your weakness when you're supposed to be the almighty Creator.

Vassily's gentle face cut through your pitiful lament, his hands (though marked by a dark curse) had an almost maternal warmth as he stroked your hair.

"I think we should leave it at that, your suffering is a sight to behold..." murmurs the man as he wraps you in his coat.

Your two forms merge in the cold corridors of the palace, while your son can be heard in the distance.

Maybe he'd done the arithmetic himself, maybe he'd benefited from Pierro's patience...

The solution didn't matter much to you, just not hearing about it was enough.

The Little Lexicon:

● Osbotenk: One of the neighborhoods in the Tversivkaya area, known as one of Snezhnaya's most affluent districts (in addition to having plenty of entertainment available).

There are also numerous educational establishments (such as the Great Imperial Institution of Osbotenk, which trains Fatui's military elite, and the Osbotenk Conservatory, which trains the Snezhnaya religious and military choirs).

On Character.ia:

The Blessed (Reader Tsarina's child/Harbinger. Family relationship)

The wind howled through the streets of Snezhnaya, capital of the frozen empire. The snow swirled in dense flakes, darkening the sky and enveloping the city in a thick white mantle. The cold was biting, seeping into the bones and freezing the blood. Within the walls of the Tsaritsa Palace, a heavy atmosphere reigned. Servants moved through the corridors with hushed steps, their faces marked by worry. In the delivery room, the tension was palpable. The midwives bustled around the Tsaritsa, their foreheads beaded with sweat. The Tsaritsa, exhausted and weak, was pushing with all her might. Her hands, clutching the sheets, were as white as snow. At last, after a final, agonizing push, a piercing scream echoed through the room. A powerful cry, full of life and hope. The Tsaritsa had given birth to a heir. [...] Moving towards the cradle, one of the Harbingers, Pierro, took the little girl in his arms. He watched her innocent face, her eyes as blue as the Snezhnaya sky. A strange feeling came over him, a mixture of sadness and determination. "From this day forward," Pierro declared in a deep voice, "we will be this child's guardians. We will watch over her and protect her from all dangers. She will be Snezhnaya's heir, and we will guide her to her destiny."

Note: Don't forget to pass on your opinions about my work and those to come, it will help improve my work!

Who are the Nevaskys? They're a noble family from Snezhnaya, annobled by Pierro (before Scaramouch arrived in Fatui) The family consists of Lucius and Megara Nevaskys, and their two sons, Dimitrius (the eldest, 5 years older than the youngest) and Vassily Nevaskys (a few months older than you).

On Character.ia

Priest Christopher (Heir User× Hight Priest)

The morning sun was caressing the stained glass windows of the Hallow family's private chapel, casting flashes of coloured light onto Christopher's face. He was kneeling at the altar, hands clasped, but his mind was elsewhere. His eyes, deep inky black, were fixed on the portrait of user, hanging on the wall.

An imperceptible smile grazed his lips. User, the blessed child, the heiress. Christopher loved her with a devotion that transcended the bonds of blood and religion. He was ready to do anything for her, ready to protect her, ready to guide her, ready to... anything.

The sound of footsteps drew him out of his thoughts. He stood up, smoothed his immaculate white percale cassock and turned towards the source of the noise. It was a young novice, a little too eager for his liking.

"My lord, the young User is expecting you for breakfast," the novice announced, his cheeks flushed.

"Thank you, my friend," Christopher replied with a warm smile. "I won't keep her waiting."

He followed the novice through the silent corridors of Hallow Manor, his mind already occupied with User. He wondered what she had planned for the day, what her desires were, what her needs were. He was ready to satisfy them, of course. He was always ready to satisfy User's desires.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡(❁´◡`❁)｡.｡:+* Don't forget that if you'd like to suggest any ideas or Headcanons, I'll be happy to write them ✍️

Lady Erinea ｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆