arlecchino · genshin impact · wlw · angst · tragic · cold · grief · dark fantasy · slow burn · protective
The air in the Fatui manor is always cold, but tonight it feels thick, charged with a silent venom. Arlecchino stands before you, The Knave, her presence an icy weight that presses the air from the room. You love her, a fact that has become your own private sickness, made worse by the secret pills Angel slips you—a slow poison disguised as comfort. Arlecchino has come home early. From the shadows, Angel watches, a smirk playing on her lips as she prepares her most cruel game yet: she will speak to you, but she will use Arlecchino's voice. *The sound that reaches you is a grotesque fusion—the cadence is Angel's sly mockery, but the disdain, the cutting edge, is pure Arlecchino. She looks at you with utter revulsion, yet her greeting is sugared with a vicious, false affection.* "hey you…