Exact Quote

exact quote

not me making myself sad about the imaginary death of an imaginary gf in an imaginary apocalypse

UNRWA, ANERA and WCK have all been forced to pause or halt their humanitarian operations in Gaza because Israel has deliberately targeted any means of lifesaving aid to a starved, maimed, and tortured population of over 2 million Palestinians, almost half of which are children.

This has been broadcasted by Israel so that it sets the precedent of what is deemed permissible in the face of "international law". I said it before, it does not get any more obviously genocidal than this.

From the Fontaine trailer, some people headcanon Arlecchino to be a perfectionist so imagine her lover feeling insecure and becoming distant because they think they're not good enough for her, which Arlecchino quickly denies.

It was hard not to be insecure.

You knew that everyone felt insecure every now and then, but you felt the unconfidence in yourself growing with every passing day. After all, your lover was Arlecchino. The Knave. The Fourth Fatui Harbinger. One of the most strongest people that served the Tsaritsa. Not to mention stunningly beautiful.

And now “the perfectionist.”

You had always known that your wife liked things to be done her way, or no way. Arlecchino looked down on many things and people that she considered to be beneath her. She would pick apart anyone who had the audacity to upset her. But she had never once directed anything of the sort to you. You were good enough for her, you thought. She always made you feel so loved, so worthy of her, of everything, despite her… less than sane tendencies. 

Until a few days ago.

The regular Fatui soldiers loved to gossip amongst themselves. You couldn’t really blame them, even though the Harbingers were feared, many of them were also idolized. And there wasn’t much else to do on duty. (Your wife always made sure to station a few guards outside your room. She was very serious about your safety.)

You actually learned a good bit of information from listening in on their conversations, but the parts you cared about the most were related to Arlecchino. From the time you overheard that she seemed more irritable than usual at the orphanage, so you made sure to pamper her to the fullest extent that night. Or when she was somehow in a good mood, so you did your best to make it even better by being extra romantic when she arrived home. But now you had stumbled upon a conversation you would have been better off not hearing.

It was the wee hours of the night, when you had been waiting up for hours to see if Arlecchino would make it home that night. She did not, which was disappointing, but it was nothing new. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Regardless, you were sleepy now, but before you crashed you wanted to see if the Fatui were talking about anything juicy. By now, they would think you were asleep. You crept to your door and leaned close to it to see if you could catch any hushed whispers. 

“You know, I heard Lord Pantalone and The Doctor got into another quarrel…” Bingo! Looks like they were chit-chatting tonight. Pantalone… the guy Arlecchino rebuked quite a few times. You don’t think she liked him very much, from the way she always hid you behind her, away from his unsettlingly sweet smile. Though that wasn’t the point. The guards continued to prattle on quietly, but it was becoming boring for you. Looks like one of the Harbingers made their subordinate cry again. You heard that one all too often, so it was time to finally go to sleep.

“Say, Lord Arlecchino…” Well, staying up for a few more minutes couldn’t hurt, right? You were eager to hear what they’d say.

“Lord Arlecchino is a real perfectionist, isn’t she?”

You don’t know why those words hit you so hard all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I think so too. She’s quite obsessed with perfection. If you don’t comply with her every standard of perfection, she’ll think of you as nothing. I don’t think anyone could be good enough for her.”

Perfection. Perfection. Perfection. 

The word had now taken up residence in your head and you could no longer hear the muffled voices outside, your own thoughts being too loud. You were never well acquainted with the word “perfection.” You never considered yourself to be perfect in anything: looks, personality, smarts, talents, skills, strength, health. And well, you tried to keep it out of your mind as much as possible - Arlecchino’s love kept you very fulfilled anyway - but now your thoughts were spiraling into something not so nice.

You tried to not think about it. You knew deep down she was like that but hearing it verbalized so clearly was draining for you. But it was okay, right? You were good enough for Arlecchino, you repeated in your head. You’re good enough for her, you tried to convince yourself. There was no need to dwell on it.

But once a seed has been planted, it’s hard to stop its growth.

—

You didn’t get much sleep that night. The morning had come rather quickly, light filtering in through the windows. Arlecchino’s side of the bed was still untouched and cold. You contemplated staying in bed a while longer, but it was probably better to do something to get your mind off the events of last night. Perhaps a nice, hot bath would do you some good. Dragging yourself out of bed, you rubbed the sleepiness out of your eyes and padded along to the bathroom, until a glint caught your eye.

Your and Arlecchino’s shared dresser with a rather large mirror. 

It held fond memories for you. Oftentimes Arlecchino would sit as you removed her hairclip and began to brush her hair, her face expressionless but still soft as she looked at you in the mirror. Or sometimes you’d be the one sitting down, her hands placed on your shoulders as she stared adoringly at your reflection, complimenting how enticing you looked. How she could just eat you up, kissing your neck, having to resist the urge to leave a smidge of her lipstick there. Bringing you as her plus one was both a curse and a blessing; she could show the whole of Snezhnaya her enthralling darling, but at the same time people laid their filthy eyes on you. Very fond memories indeed.

But that was the last thing on your mind, your reflection staring back at you almost hauntingly. Immediately your eyes couldn’t help but pick out the little imperfections and flaws in your body. Imperfection. The opposite and enemy of perfection. You wondered, did Arlecchino notice these imperfections too? Perhaps, she’s noticed all along and decided to not say a word out of pity?

You shuddered at the thought of disappointing her and quickly retreated to the comfort of your bed after that, hoping your dreams would provide you with something sweeter.

—

You knew you had slept in too late when you awoke to Arlecchino at your bedside. At first, it was a soothing feeling, waking up to fingers stroking your hair. And then realization hit you like a ton of bricks as you scrambled to sit up to which Arlecchino watched you with an unreadable expression.

“A-Arlie!” You half-exclaimed, voice cracking embarrassingly. “You’re home.”

“I was surprised when you weren’t by the door to greet me like usual. You usually never sleep in this late,” she commented, indirectly asking if you were okay.

“Oh well… I just felt more tired than usual,” you replied, which wasn’t really a lie. Arlecchino narrowed her eyes at you.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been staying up late again,” she sighed when she saw your nervous guilty smile. “I keep telling you to sleep instead of waiting up for me,” she gently tsked as she glided her finger under your eyes. “It is not healthy for you.”

Your wife’s touch made you hot and you gladly accepted it, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but think back to the Fatui soldier’s words. You probably looked so imperfect right now. Arlecchino noticed the change of expression on your face.

“What’s wrong?” Well damn, you didn’t mean for that to happen.

“Oh, nothing,” you quickly reassured her. “You know, just the sleep deprivation kicking in.” That excuse probably didn’t even make any sense but you had to roll with it. Arlecchino simply stared at you before answering.

“You do look more tired than usual. You should rest for a while longer,” she nodded as she guided you back into a lying position. You don’t think she fully bought your excuse but at least that exchange was over.

That was only the beginning of your distance behavior, which Arlecchino easily noticed. You wouldn’t initiate physical contact anymore, and wouldn’t “surprise” her with hugs from behind. No longer would you go on about your day when she got home from work. Whenever she got into bed with you, you’d always pretend to be asleep instead of spending the night talking with her. It was strange and made her feel… not good.

Arlecchino was a very observant lover and could read your mood very well, even more so when you tried to hide it. Usually, she could pinpoint what caused it or you would tell her. But this time you were completely silent. Not just for a little while too, it had been days.

She’d find out why tonight. How? Because tonight was your regularly scheduled dinner date night.

Arlecchino was a classy woman. She could always appreciate a private, fancy dinner with her beloved. And though it was only in her mansion, it didn’t stop her from wearing her best suit and encouraging you to dress up as well. Both of you always enjoyed these nights. It was usually mostly you doing the talking, but she took pleasure in hearing you chatter over a nice meal. Not to mention she liked to feed you dessert.

Normally you’d be ecstatic to spend time with your wife. But now? Now you were kind of terrified. You were going to be so close to her. She would be able to see your every move. Dissect you with those piercing eyes of hers. Your mind was going to the worse possible places and you didn’t like it.

Were there any wrinkles in your outfit? Hair combed perfectly? Wait, was your outfit even nice? What if it was and it just looked poorly on you? You found yourself worrying over the minor details far too much. But you didn’t have much more time to fret before Arlecchino entered the room with a slight smile.

“You look ravishing, my dear,” she hummed as she circled you, her heels click-clacking against the floors and her eyes dragging across your body. Her compliment did make your heart sing a little.

“Thank you, love,” you managed a smile to which Arlecchino reciprocated. You held out your held and Arlecchino grasped it with hers, kissing it.

“Shall we go?”

“We shall.”

—

There was no laughter or conversation to be heard during this particular dinner. The only thing that could be heard was the clatter of knives and forks against plates. It was unsettling how you didn’t even try to start up a conversation. How when Arlecchino tried to get you to speak, your only responses were a few words or merely a nod.

Why? Because your mind was racing over things you never worried about before. Was your voice pleasing to her ear? Was it too high or too low? Best not to test it. Was your etiquette good enough? The idea of not being perfect enough was still eating away at you, even in the things that didn’t matter.

Arlecchino always thought herself to be prepared for many things, many kinds of situations, and outcomes as a Harbinger. Though as a lover, it seems that she had some room to grow, she thought as she watched you change into something more comfortable and get ready for bed. But she was going to attempt to remedy that.

“[Name], speak to me.” Straight to the point as usual.

“About?”

“Why have you been so distant lately? It’s as if you’re a completely different person.”

“Everything is fine.”

“There’s no need to lie when you’re with me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Both of us know this cannot go on any longer.”

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

“[Name]-”

“I am fine!” Your voice snapped before you realized what you’d done. “I’m fine,” you repeated softly as you turned your face away. “Sorry.”

The room was silent for a few moments before your wife spoke again.

“My lover is the last person I thought I’d be interrogating,” Arlecchino’s voice dropped to a softer tone, one that was quite rare. It was making you weak.

“I know… and I’m sorry,” you said in a deflated manner, the weight of the whole situation catching up to you. “I’m sorry…”

“Do not be sorry,” Arlecchino gently corrected you. “Simply be honest and tell me what is wrong. Your troubles are my troubles as well, love, and I swear to fix them.” She came to sit next to you on the bed, tentatively placing her blackened hand on your shoulder to gauge your reaction, and then running it up and down your back once she saw your approval. You felt like an idiot for wanting to cry right now.

“I know, I just-” You started to sound like a broken record at this point but divulging such thoughts was definitely not easy at all. But there was no way to escape this conversation so you had to come clean eventually. At least Arlecchino was extremely patient with you.

“It’s me,” you finally said. “I’m… the problem,” you stated quietly, head hung low and staring at your legs. You had done it now.

“You?” Your wife repeated. “How could you ever be a problem?” Arlecchino remained calm on the outside but her mind was racing with questions that needed answers. She placed her fingers on your chin and guided your face to look at hers instead. 

You balled your fists and opened your mouth to speak but it was beginning to clog and dry up from your overwhelming emotion. “I’m not good enough,” you blurted out in one go. “Not good enough for you.” You were sure your heart was racing faster than what should be humanly possible. You squeezed your eyes shut, afraid of what her facial expression would be. Archons, you just wanted to disappear into nothingness right now.

Arlecchino was momentarily shocked, even letting the emotion show on her face for a split second before she quickly schooled it back to her normal expression. Though she had no idea how you came to such a conclusion, she was not going to let you believe such lies for another second.

“[Name], look at me. Now,” she commanded. With that tone of voice, you knew better than to disobey her. Hesitantly you opened your eyes, reluctantly making eye contact with her, the red X’s in her eyes staring directly at you.

“You’re wrong,” she stated plainly, not meant to hurt you but rather convey to you what she thought was the obvious truth. “You could not be farther from the truth. How has such an erroneous belief infiltrated your mind?” You didn’t really know how to respond to that so you merely shrugged your shoulders and broke eye contact again, but she quickly tapped your cheek so you could look at her again.

“I guess… I guess I was just thinking about how perfect you are, and how everything around you is perfect as well, and I don’t… deserve to be around you,” your voice trailed off towards the end. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back the tears. Arlecchino paused for a moment seeming to take in your words before she spoke.

“It is true I surround myself with perfection. But does that not already answer your question? You are perfect to me. There is nothing I do not adore about you.” A quiet “oh” was the only word you could muster in response to that. Although it wasn’t enough to completely rid you of your insecurities, her genuine words of affirmation were starting to make you feel a little better.

“I don’t think you know how utterly addicted I am to you. I crave every part of your being so often, it drives me crazy,” she whispered. “I may look calm now, but inside I can feel myself burning at the mere thought of you.” Arlecchino let go of your chin and reached for your hand, guiding it to her face. “There is absolutely no one else I would want as a spouse. Do you understand?”

The lump in your throat had grown much larger so the only thing you managed was a meek nod.

“Can you use your words, love?”

“Y-yes,” your voice was teetering on the edge of breaking down. With that, Arlecchino moved in to place a very gentle kiss on your forehead but that was the final straw for you. Tears gushed down and you hurriedly reached to rub them off, but it was really to no avail because your wife had obviously already seen them.

Admittedly, Arlecchino was not the best when it came to tears and comfort. So she just did what she knew how to do - let you cry into her chest as she stroked your hair and back comfortingly. She didn’t say anything for the time being, letting you get out everything you had been holding in for the past few days. She didn’t care that her shirt was being wetted by your tears. She didn’t care that she had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. What she cared about was the person in front of her and their wellbeing.

Neither of you paid attention to how much time went by, as it didn’t mean anything. Eventually, your sobs were reduced to soft hiccups that you managed to mostly keep under control. Arlecchino’s touch and chest were so soft, you felt like you could fall asleep right now after all of that crying, which Arlecchino seemed to notice as well.

“Go to sleep now. You need rest,” your wife instructed, kissing the crown of your head and then gently moving your body to lay down on the plush mattress. She made sure to wipe your face delicately with a tissue as well and kiss the corners of your eyes, stained from your tears. You made a noise of agreement as the soft blankets and pillows were already winning you over. Arlecchino placed a final kiss on your forehead as she sent to off to the land of dreams.

Arlecchino gazed at your face as she pulled away. You looked so tired but still so beautiful. But she would have to talk to you about this again. She was still unsure of why you suddenly started acting this way, not wanting to push the subject immediately. Did someone feed you lies? Or was it truly just on your own? Regardless, she was going to make sure to reverse those thoughts as much as possible. Everything about you was so lovely. So charming, so divine. No matter how long it took, no matter how many times she had to reassure you, she’d make sure you were aware of her feelings.

Arlecchino clasped her hand with your own and squeezed it. You would always be more than enough for her.

Perfect.

fanfic is truly just a fascinating concept and fandoms are safe-spaces and comfort zones...

the beauty of someone writing a story about a story and so many people reading and theorizing about that story is just irreplaceable.

makes me more frustrated about AI taking over literature

can you believe that we have fanfiction. that we have websites dedicated to fanfiction. that there is a place that you can go and read tens, hundreds, thousands and thousands of pieces of writing that strangers have made. people who are not "writers". people who come home at the end of the day and have feelings and say, i am going to put that into words. i am going to share those words. short, long, sweet, sad, horny, funny, wonderful words. we are all just human and we all love to make and remake and share that with others. can you believe that.

A meme created because of a conversation between @bookdragon1811 and myself