The heat of the summer had been oppressive, relentless. Your family estate, nestled deep in the forests outside Mondstadt, felt more like a gilded cage than a home, despite its grand stone halls and sweeping gardens. You had spent most of your days languishing in the shade of the great oak trees, seeking respite from the heavy air that clung to you like a second skin. The boredom of isolation was wearing on you, but your father insisted it was for your safety. Strange happenings had been reported in nearby villages—disappearances, whispers of something unnatural prowling the night. He would leave for long stretches, journeying to Mondstadt for business, leaving you in the care of the house staff.
And then, she came.
It was during one of your father’s longer absences, a warm evening bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun. You were in the garden when the commotion at the front gates broke the tranquility. A carriage, drawn by horses as black as midnight, had appeared out of nowhere, thundering down the dirt path leading to the estate. The servants were quick to gather at the entrance, murmuring nervously as the door of the carriage swung open.
You watched from a distance, your curiosity piqued.
A figure emerged—tall, graceful, and draped in a flowing crimson cloak. Her presence was commanding, even from afar. The hood of her cloak shielded her face from view, but the way she moved was almost hypnotic, as though every step she took was a deliberate act of seduction.
The woman paused at the entrance, her head turning ever so slightly in your direction. Even though you couldn’t see her eyes, you felt the weight of her gaze, and a chill ran down your spine despite the warm summer air. You were frozen in place, unable to look away.
The housekeeper hurried forward, her voice trembling as she addressed the mysterious guest. “M-madam, may we help you?”
The woman’s voice was like velvet, smooth and rich, yet carrying an undercurrent of something dangerous. “I apologize for the intrusion. My carriage met with misfortune on the road, and I seek shelter for the night.”
Your father had always been generous, especially to those of noble blood, and the stranger’s attire suggested she was no common traveler. The housekeeper hesitated only a moment before nodding, gesturing for her to enter. The woman swept past her with a fluid grace, her cloak billowing behind her like a pool of blood spreading across the stone floor.
From that moment, the house was changed.
Her name was La Signora.
She revealed little of herself, offering only vague details about her background. She was a widow, she said, and had been traveling through the region on matters of personal business. Her voice was always low, measured, but it seemed to carry with it an air of authority that demanded attention. The servants were quick to obey her, drawn to her every word, though they rarely spoke in her presence.
But it was you who became the focus of her attentions.
The first time you truly spoke with her, she found you in the garden once more, reclining beneath the shade of the oak trees. She approached without a sound, her footsteps as light as a whisper on the breeze.
“I see the sun has no power over you,” she remarked, her voice almost teasing. You looked up, startled, but as soon as you met her eyes, you felt a strange sense of calm wash over you.
Her eyes—they were the color of molten amber, glowing faintly in the dim light. Her face was striking, impossibly beautiful, yet there was something unnerving about it, something inhuman. Her skin was pale, like porcelain, and her lips were painted a deep, blood-red.
“You must be our guest,” you managed, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay composed. “La Signora, is it?”
She smiled, and the sight of it sent a shiver through you. “Indeed. And you must be the lady of the house in your father’s absence. How fortunate for me to find such enchanting company.”
Her words were flattering, but there was an edge to them, a weight that made your heart beat faster. You had never felt anything like it—a mixture of fear and fascination, as though you were both repelled and irresistibly drawn to her at the same time.
“I’ve heard you’ve been unwell,” she continued, her gaze sweeping over you like a caress. “These warm summers can be so draining, can they not?”
You nodded, unsure of how to respond. In truth, you had felt more fatigued than usual, a strange lethargy that had settled over you ever since her arrival. But as you sat there, beneath her gaze, you found it difficult to think of anything but her.
For the rest of the evening, La Signora remained at your side, her conversation light but somehow captivating. She spoke of distant lands and forgotten places, of beauty and tragedy intertwined. She told you stories that made the hairs on your neck stand on end, though you could not say why.
And when she finally took her leave, you found yourself longing for her return, despite the growing sense of unease gnawing at the edges of your mind.
As the days passed, your relationship with La Signora deepened in ways you could not explain. She was always near, her presence a constant, magnetic force. She began visiting you in your room late at night, when the rest of the household had long since gone to bed. The first time she appeared, it was like a dream.
You had been lying in bed, half-asleep, when you heard the faint creak of your door opening. You sat up, your heart racing, but there she stood, framed in the doorway, her cloak draped loosely around her shoulders. The candlelight flickered in her eyes, casting strange shadows across her face.
“Do not be alarmed,” she whispered, her voice soft as silk. “I thought you might enjoy some company.”
You should have been frightened, should have called for the servants. But instead, you nodded, your pulse quickening with anticipation rather than fear.
La Signora approached your bedside, moving with that same eerie grace. She sat beside you, her eyes never leaving yours. Her fingers brushed against your skin—cold, so cold—and yet you did not pull away. You felt yourself sinking into her presence, as though she were drawing you into a trance.
“I can see the fatigue in your eyes,” she murmured, her fingers trailing lightly across your wrist. “You’ve been suffering, haven’t you?”
You nodded weakly, though you were no longer sure if it was the heat or her that had been draining you. Every moment in her presence left you feeling both exhilarated and exhausted, as though she were consuming something vital from you.
She leaned closer, her breath cool against your skin. “I can help you, if you’ll let me. You have but to say the word, and I will ease your suffering.”
You should have refused, should have resisted. But her voice was like a lullaby, soothing, persuasive. Before you knew it, you had whispered, “Yes.”
Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Good.”
Without another word, La Signora leaned in, her face inches from yours. For a brief, dizzying moment, you thought she might kiss you, but instead, she pressed her lips to the curve of your neck. The sensation sent a shock through your body, a strange mixture of pleasure and pain as her fangs pierced your skin.
You gasped, your hands gripping the sheets as the world seemed to spin around you. Your vision blurred, but all you could feel was her—her cold touch, her breath, the strange pull of her fangs as she drank from you.
It was over in a matter of seconds, but it left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. La Signora pulled away, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. She licked her lips, the faintest trace of blood staining them.
“You are mine now,” she whispered, her voice a soft, dangerous purr. “Do not forget that.”
You lay there, trembling, unable to speak as she rose from your bed and disappeared into the shadows.
From that night onward, La Signora’s hold on you tightened. You grew weaker by the day, your skin paling, your body frail. But every night, she returned, her presence both a curse and a balm to your growing despair. You could not escape her, and deep down, you weren’t sure you wanted to.
The villagers whispered of a sickness that had begun to spread, of young women falling ill, drained of life. But you knew the truth. It was her—La Signora. She was the cause of it all, and you were her willing victim.
Your father returned one evening, his face lined with worry as he looked upon you. He demanded to know what had happened, but you could not tell him. You could only lie there, weak and helpless, knowing that La Signora’s hold on you had grown too strong to break.
That night, she came to you again, but this time, her smile was different—sharper, crueler.
“It’s almost time,” she whispered, her voice a cold breeze against your fevered skin. “Soon, you will be mine completely, and we will be together forever.”
You wanted to resist, to fight against the dark fate she had woven for you. But as she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck once more, you knew there was no escape.
You had been drawn into her web of darkness, and there was no going back.
Disclaimer: This fanfiction contains mature and dark themes such as kidnapping, obsession, and other potentially triggering content. Reader discretion is advised.
The waters were calm tonight, unusually serene for the coastal cliffs you’d visited in search of rare treasures washed up by the waves. Something felt off, but you couldn't pinpoint why. You stood alone on the shore, the salty breeze tugging at your clothes. The moon hung low, casting a silver glow across the black ocean that stretched endlessly before you.
You had heard the rumors—a siren, known for her beauty and cruelty, said to haunt these shores. Her name echoed like a whispered legend: La Signora. But you hadn't believed such stories. Not until you heard it.
A melody. Soft, beautiful, and impossible to resist.
It wrapped around you like a lover’s embrace, filling the night air with its alluring tones. You could feel it pull at your mind, a song that seemed to beckon you toward the water's edge. The sound grew louder, more intoxicating, until you found yourself stepping closer to the shimmering sea without thinking. The melody resonated deep within your chest, commanding you without words, and your feet moved of their own accord.
There, rising from the waves, was her.
She was breathtaking—tall, pale, and deadly. Her lips curled into a sharp, predatory smile as she sang, her voice the same irresistible melody that had led you here. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back like moonlight on water, and her crimson eyes glowed with a hunger that sent chills down your spine. But even in your fear, you couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop wanting her.
“Ah,” she purred, her voice now a low hum as the song faded. “I knew you’d come to me.”
You tried to move, tried to run, but your body was frozen in place. You could only watch as she emerged fully from the sea, her lithe form moving with otherworldly grace. The water seemed to cling to her skin as though even the ocean itself couldn't bear to let her go.
Her hand cupped your cheek, and you shivered beneath her touch, your breath catching as her nails lightly traced your skin. She leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear, her voice dripping with wicked delight.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for you, little one?”
Your heart pounded in your chest, but the words refused to come. You wanted to ask why, wanted to scream, but all you could do was stare into her eyes as her other hand trailed down your arm, her nails sharp enough to raise goosebumps in their wake.
“You’re mine now,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. “My sweet, sweet mate.”
Before you could protest, before you could even comprehend what was happening, La Signora’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you against her. The world around you spun as the ocean rose, swirling at her command. The next thing you knew, you were plunging beneath the waves, the cold water swallowing you whole.
You thrashed for a moment, panic taking over as the saltwater stung your eyes and filled your lungs. But then... you heard her voice again. Her song. It was clearer now, more powerful, echoing through the deep like a siren’s promise of eternity. The panic faded, replaced by an overwhelming sense of calm, of belonging. Her arms tightened around you as the ocean cradled you both, dragging you down into the depths.
La Signora's lips met yours underwater in a kiss that felt both tender and possessive. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claim. The sensation of her sharp nails digging into your skin, even beneath the water, was as intoxicating as the melody still playing in your mind. She owned you, body and soul.
“You will love me,” her voice rang in your head, the words intertwining with her song. “You will be my perfect little mate.”
Time seemed to lose meaning as she took you deeper into her realm. Down, down into the abyss, where light barely reached. It was dark and cold, but her warmth surrounded you, her presence comforting in a way that scared you.
You were no longer just a visitor to this world—you were hers.
In the depths of her lair, where the sea creatures dared not approach, she laid you down on a bed of coral and seafoam, her sharp smile never faltering. Her gaze was one of obsession, hunger, and something that bordered on affection, though twisted in its own way.
“I will keep you safe,” she cooed, her fingers gently brushing over your trembling body. “You’ll never leave me, my little mate. Never.”
The air—what little there was—felt heavy around you, thick with the weight of her desire. Her song was all you could hear, all you could feel. It vibrated through your very bones, making you pliant under her touch. She moved closer, her body wrapping around yours like a serpent coiling around its prey.
Then, you felt it—something inside you, something warm and foreign, spreading through your core. Her sharp nails dug into your skin as her smile grew wider, more sinister. She watched you with rapt attention, her crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction as your body reacted to the strange sensation. It was almost too much, overwhelming and invasive, yet there was a twisted pleasure in it.
“You’ll bear my legacy,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost reverent. “You’ll carry my future, and you will love it. Just as you love me.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but still, you couldn’t resist. The bond between you and La Signora had been sealed the moment you heard her song. You were hers, bound to her by the depths of the sea and the curse of her obsession.
She leaned in once more, kissing your tear-streaked cheeks with almost gentle affection, a mockery of tenderness in her touch.
“Such a sweet little mate,” she whispered against your skin. “You’ll never escape me.”
Her voice was both a promise and a threat, the final words you heard before you were pulled under, deeper into her abyss, where you would remain—forever.
As the weeks passed, your bond with La Signora deepened. The once icy and distant Harbinger began to show more of her true self, revealing a woman who had endured much but still held onto a spark of hope. Your shared moments became a refuge from the harsh realities of your roles within the Fatui.
One evening, as you both stood on a balcony overlooking the snowy expanse of Snezhnaya, La Signora turned to you with a contemplative look. “Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we weren’t Harbingers?” she asked softly.
You nodded, your gaze fixed on the horizon. “I do. Sometimes I imagine a simpler life, one where we can be free from the burdens of our titles.”
La Signora sighed, a wistful smile playing on her lips. “It’s a nice thought, isn’t it? But reality is rarely so kind.”
“True,” you agreed, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t find moments of peace and happiness, even in our current lives.”
She looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “Do you really believe that?”
“I do,” you said firmly. “We’ve already found something special in each other. That’s a start.”
La Signora’s expression softened, and she reached out to take your hand. “You always know what to say,” she murmured. “It’s one of the things I admire about you.”
You smiled, squeezing her hand gently. “And I admire your strength and resilience. Together, we can face whatever challenges come our way.”
As the night wore on, you and La Signora spoke of dreams and possibilities, of a future where you could be together without the weight of your titles. It was a fragile hope, but it was enough to keep you both going.
In the days that followed, your relationship continued to grow. You found solace in each other’s company, a rare and precious connection in a world filled with danger and intrigue. La Signora’s icy exterior melted away in your presence, revealing a warmth that she had long kept hidden.
One day, as you prepared for another mission, La Signora approached you with a determined look in her eyes. “I’ve been thinking,” she began, “about what you said. About finding moments of peace and happiness.”
You turned to her, curious. “And?”
“And I want to try,” she said, her voice steady. “I want to find those moments with you, no matter how fleeting they may be.”
You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for the woman who had become so important to you. “Then let’s do it,” you said. “Together.”
With that, you and La Signora set out on your mission, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. But this time, you knew you had each other, and that made all the difference.
In the cold, unforgiving land of Snezhnaya, the Fatui Harbingers were known for their power and ruthlessness. Among them, La Signora stood out, her beauty as striking as her icy demeanor. But there was another Harbinger who matched her in both strength and mystery—you.
As the Eleventh Harbinger, you had earned your place through sheer determination and skill. Your path often crossed with La Signora’s, and though your interactions were brief, there was an undeniable tension between you.
One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, you found yourself in the grand hall of the Zapolyarny Palace. The air was thick with the chill of winter, but you were used to it. You spotted La Signora standing by a window, her gaze distant as she looked out over the frozen landscape.
“Signora,” you greeted, your voice breaking the silence.
She turned to face you, her expression unreadable. “What brings you here, Eleventh?”
“I could ask you the same,” you replied, stepping closer. “But I suppose we’re both seeking a moment of respite.”
La Signora’s eyes softened slightly, a rare sight. “Even Harbingers need a break from the chaos.”
You nodded, standing beside her. “I’ve always admired your strength, Signora. But I wonder, do you ever tire of the mask you wear?”
She glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in her gaze. “And what makes you think I wear a mask?”
“Because I do too,” you admitted. “We all do, in our own ways. But sometimes, I wish I could see the person behind the Harbinger.”
La Signora was silent for a moment, then she sighed. “You are bold, Eleventh. But perhaps… perhaps there is something to your words.”
You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to gently touch hers. “We are more than our titles, Signora. We are people, with hopes and fears, just like anyone else.”
For a moment, she hesitated, then she intertwined her fingers with yours. “You speak as if you know my heart,” she whispered.
“I want to,” you replied, your voice steady. “I want to know everything about you.”
La Signora’s eyes softened further, and she took a step closer, her breath mingling with yours. “You are a foolish, brave soul,” she murmured. “But perhaps… perhaps there is a place for such foolishness in my life.”
As the night deepened, you and La Signora spoke of past sorrows and hidden dreams. The icy barrier she had built around her heart began to thaw, revealing a woman who had once known love and loss, who had been shaped by the harshness of the world.
In the end, it wasn’t the flames of her power that drew you to her, but the warmth of her hidden heart. And in that moment, beneath the starlit sky, you realized that even the coldest of hearts could be touched by the light of understanding and compassion.
Days turned into weeks, and your encounters with La Signora became more frequent. Each meeting peeled back another layer of her icy exterior, revealing the woman beneath the Harbinger. You found yourself drawn to her strength, her resilience, and the rare moments of tenderness she allowed herself to show.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over Mondstadt, you met La Signora at the edge of Windrise. The ancient tree stood tall and proud, its branches swaying gently in the breeze.
“You’ve been persistent,” she remarked, her voice softer than usual. “Most would have given up by now.”
“I see something worth fighting for,” you replied, stepping closer. “Someone worth understanding.”
La Signora turned to face you, her eyes reflecting the fading light. “And what is it you think you understand about me?”
“I understand that you’re more than the mask you wear,” you said, reaching out to gently touch her hand. “You’re someone who has faced unimaginable pain and yet continues to stand strong. You’re someone who deserves to be seen for who they truly are.”
For a moment, she remained silent, her gaze fixed on your hand. Then, slowly, she intertwined her fingers with yours. “You speak as if you know my heart,” she whispered, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
“I want to,” you replied, your voice steady. “I want to know everything about you.”
La Signora’s eyes softened, and she took a step closer, her breath mingling with yours. “You are a foolish, brave soul,” she murmured. “But perhaps… perhaps there is a place for such foolishness in my life.”
As the stars began to twinkle above, you felt a warmth spread through you, a warmth that came not from the sun, but from the connection you had forged with La Signora. In that moment, you knew that no matter the challenges ahead, you would face them together.
In the heart of Mondstadt, where the winds whispered secrets and the stars painted stories across the night sky, you found yourself standing before the imposing figure of La Signora. Her presence was as chilling as the icy winds she commanded, yet there was an undeniable allure that drew you closer.
“Why do you seek me out, mortal?” she asked, her voice a blend of frost and fire.
You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves. “I wanted to understand you, to see beyond the mask you wear.”
La Signora’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of curiosity. “And what makes you think you can comprehend the depths of my existence?”
“I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, “but I want to try. There’s more to you than the Harbinger of the Fatui. I see someone who has endured pain and loss, someone who hides her true self behind a veil of ice.”
For a moment, silence hung between you, heavy and expectant. Then, to your surprise, La Signora’s expression softened, if only slightly.
“You are bold, I’ll give you that,” she said, her tone less harsh. “But boldness alone won’t save you from the consequences of your curiosity.”
“I’m willing to take that risk,” you replied, stepping closer. “I believe there’s a part of you that longs for warmth, for connection.”
La Signora’s gaze held yours, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of vulnerability. “You tread dangerous ground, mortal. But perhaps… perhaps there is something to your words.”
As the night deepened, you and La Signora spoke of past sorrows and hidden dreams. The icy barrier she had built around her heart began to thaw, revealing a woman who had once known love and loss, who had been shaped by the harshness of the world.
In the end, it wasn’t the flames of her power that drew you to her, but the warmth of her hidden heart. And in that moment, beneath the starlit sky, you realized that even the coldest of hearts could be touched by the light of understanding and compassion.