genshin impact headcanons

little brother pierro

gn reader, child pierro, back to fluff this time guys it's ok, not proofread

there has been interest in regards to either expansions of these or a sister series of older siblingfications after this concludes and I think that would be interesting. I would love to do an older siblingfication series. I don't know the order of those posts yet maybe I'll do a poll later or just leave it to people in my inbox and I'll do them in order of whose shows up first

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Life was never easy in Khaenri'ah, a nation devoid of a god and built on flesh and blood, but such was the way of the world when no alternative existed in his mind. It is strange how something so constant could so quickly become foreign once the world became bigger. Teyvat was a continent fought for by the gods rather than the hands of humans and their machines.

The land was never to be tilled with farming tools but rather was to be fought for with iron and blood. That principle doesn't apply anywhere else.

It was not so violent when you spoke those words to him, despite having watched you try to tinker with one of those machines before. You got your hands on the first thing you saw and promptly took to tearing it apart in search of what makes it tick. Watching you is mesmerising.

First, it was alchemy, as you tried in vain to teach him the art. He just didn't have the touch for it, but you assured him it was fine and left it at that, allowing him to watch you fumble your way through whatever your latest interest happened to be. If not alchemy, then it became mechanics; if not mechanics, then it was life itself and its creation. Neither of you thought to question your childhood spent in a wasteland so long as you had life at your fingertips.

You were something he thought he might never be.

The future where he grew into being anything like you felt to him was a dream and nothing more. He'd calculate the years and imagine they'd never come because, at the time, they felt like they wouldn't.

More than anything, you sought to haul him up to the top with you. You were not by any means leaps and bounds ahead of him, a comfortable gap of power between you; however, you saw merit in teaching him anything you learned. Wherever you were going in life, you were going to make sure your little brother got there with you, and to such end, Pierro spent his years as a toddler being carried on your shoulders when he didn't want to walk to see the husk of a field tiller you found, or up the hill that was so high he could see the palace over the rooftops.

At the time, it was, to you, the consequence of your parents forcing you to watch him when he wanted to play outside. To him, the forming of cherished memories that would lead him to linger at your side for as long as they were at the forefront of his mind.

The luxury of being carried around on your shoulder died as he outgrew it. He was too heavy for you not to tire yourself out in the first minute of walking, and it hurt more than it used to. It didn't stop him from fussing until you'd flick his forehead and call him some mean name.

He found his calling in the idea of becoming a mage. He's not sure where it came from, perhaps something you'd shown him sparking as thought that settled in his brain and never got around to leaving. Either way, it seems to be the one thing that doesn't absorb your undivided attention through your ever-changing interests. Nonetheless, through enough begging, whining and irritating you, he managed to convince you to at least try to learn with him.

Someone was always better than him, and you were no exception. You could easily outclass him in many facets of life, yet you preferred to help him despite it all, even in this which bored you to tears. He supposes it came from the fact that you had grown up with your parents shoving him at you and telling you both to work it out.

You were older than him, stronger than him, wiser than him—though only barely—and had more expectations than him. Your parents asked things of you because you were the oldest and the one who would be their legacy. He had less responsibility regarding the things they wanted, though it never kept him from yearning for approval. Yours, theirs, he wanted what felt like the greatest gift—the chance to make you happy.

If you could look at him and smile and tell him that you were proud of him and liked what he could do, then it didn't matter who was better than him. There would always be someone, but your shows of admiration could make him feel like the strongest boy Khaenri'ah could offer.

You should have resented him for being forced to tolerate him as a child, but there remained a soft spot for him all your life that you couldn't shake no matter how willing you were to fight with him. It makes it easier for him to practically dangle off you in search of the things he wants, down to asking you to go scare some kids he didn't get along with or read him bedtime stories under a blanket on his bed well past the time both of you were supposed to be asleep.

You make exceptions for him in his eyes because you love him enough.

At some point, you convinced yourself that the only reason you were willing to keep doing the things he begged of you was because Pierro was annoying and needy, but you were unable to say no to him. It was not for a lack of trying. You tried over and over to shake him off when he'd run up behind you and beg for you to carry him home or shove him away and shoo him to bed when he shook you in the night with a book in his hands.

On nights he was emboldened by disregard, he'd try to sleaze his way into your bed and wriggle under the covers to sleep soundly by your side. Pierro was convinced that no matter what existed out there, you could somehow protect him from all of that, and the safest place available was asleep under your arm.

You drew the line at his audacity to try and crawl into your bed and threw him out.

You had not fallen asleep by his side since winter when you agreed to read stories to him when the cold kept him restless, though your eyes would try to close, and he would feel your head relaxing beside him. It wasn't uncommon for him to witness and take advantage of your exhaustion rather than wake you, snuggling by your side and under your arm. It was more comfortable there than anywhere else.

He spent his youth by your side like you were salvation.

He wants nothing more than to find his way back to your loving arms, where you will spoil him with the luxury of ignorance.