#yandere arlecchino x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

belphiesreverie · 2 years

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Platonic yandere fatui(plus the tsaritsa) thoughts? Doesn't matter if reader is young, teenager or adult lol

Once again going purely off vibes bc we don’t know much about most of them!

Just gonna write small excerpts for each of them but feel free to request more in-depth hcs for any of them! Scaramouche already has a full set here! 💕💕

Pierro is the strict father figure. What he says goes and will be obeyed without question. If he tells you to stay with one of the harbingers for the day then that’s where he expects to find you. When he gets to spend time with you himself though, he’s a lot softer and happy to do whatever activities you would like to

Capitano is like a second shadow. He doesn’t really interact with you face to face, preferring to stand nearby and watch over you like a guardian. The type of friend that scares off people who make you uncomfortable except 10x scarier

Columbina is the clingy best friend. She’s practically attached to your hip at all times and loves to drape herself over you at every opportunity. She gets super pouty when you pay more attention to others in her presence

Arlecchino is the doting older sister. She brushes your hair for you, she makes you breakfast, she escorts you if you’re going out anywhere. But she also likes to keep you on a strict routine and doesn’t take nicely to transgressions. It’s for your safety after all

Dottore is the scary cousin. The one you dread to spend time with because he’s always up to something and insists you help with his schemes. Sometimes he makes you sit and watch whilst he does autopsies on the recently deceased, and you could swear some of them look eerily familiar

Signora is the pampered friend. She likes to show you off by walking side by side with you. But not before she’s picked out what you’re wearing, and done your hair and makeup. She wants to be seen with you, but you have to match her standard. You have to show everyone why she’s the only one fit to stand at your side as your dearest friend

Pantalone is like your rich best friend that buys you whatever you desire. If you look at anything even a fraction of a second too long, Pantalone will have his wallet out before you can blink. He’s also definitely not above bribing people to stay away from you if he doesn’t like them hanging around

Sandrone is the smothering mum friend. She pampers you and loves to dress you up and just sit around with you. Doesn’t let you do anything yourself in fear of hurting yourself and insists on leaving everything to her puppets

Tartaglia is like the fun older brother. He already has experience looking after his younger siblings so you’ll be joining them. He likes to take you to fights to show off but won’t let you try incase you hurt yourself. He is fiercely over protective as well, anyone who dares to even look at you wrong can expect to be on the wrong end of his bow

The Tsaritsa is like an overprotective mother. She fears for your safety out in the big scary world, so she keeps you safe in the expanses of Snezhnaya where she and her trusted harbingers can watch over you

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

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Guide to Surviving the Yan Harbingers.

Play nice with Columbina, but not too nice. There’s a happy medium that she wants you to situate yourself in. On one hand, it would displease her greatly if you were to ever clearly express your distaste. Still, it would ruin her fun if she acted like a totally lifeless doll. She delights herself in seeing the frustration dancing within your eyes. The way that you seethe internally, acting oh so hard to keep it together in the face of such dire circumstances. In a most innocent tone, she’ll ask provocative questions crafted to make you stumble. Isn’t Scaramouche so impossible to please? Dottore an amalgamation of ego that you’re forced to endure? Columbina knows that by phrasing it like an inquiry, social etiquette will urge you to respond in some way, and forces you into a waltz where the tempo is always off. She adores the way you dance for her. Don’t worry, she’ll stop you before you say anything too damning; if you get in trouble with the others, it means she won’t get to see you as often...

Don’t flinch at the cold kiss of metal caressing your skin upon Sandrone’s prompting. She settles for nothing less than perfection when it comes to her work. When it’s her turn to have possession over you, you’ll be invited into a workshop that few if no one else has ever seen; discarded mechanical limbs littering the floor that you must step over. The creations lying within might look familiar, she tells you. And indeed they do. Atop a crudely shaped torso, with frayed wires poking out from what should be the shoulder socket if traditional anatomy was observed, is a head boasting unblinking eyes the same shade as yours. It’s a work in progress — a love letter to her favorite muse. A croaking voice box whirrs to life within the hollow husk, staccato-like syllables stringing together as the machine says it wants to be just like you. Sandrone claims her little project has been begging to feel your skin as of late. You’ll let it, won’t you?

Know that if you reciprocate Signora’s affection in full, you might just get burned. Ice is not always meant to be thawed and she is proof of that. You stoke embers within her that she long thought were locked away by the Tsaritsa’s gift, and in doing so, unwittingly place yourself in danger. Signora knows her accursed physiology well enough to sense this. Hence why she treats you with such biting apathy. You are to sit quietly in her presence so she can retain control over herself. If she’s in a good enough mood, you’ll be allowed to entertain yourself with books or other silent hobbies. Still, despite the precautions, her gaze always ends up drawn to you. She’ll part her lips, considering possibilities too good to be true. Thoughts of having you brush through her hair or humming the music she heard in better days of her life tempt her. When you meet her eyes, her face hardens, and she asks who permitted you to do such a thing. Signora learned from her past that feeding the flames never ends well.

Exercise the utmost obedience with Arlecchino. Her commands are absolute and meant to be followed to the letter, even if they make your life more difficult in the process. She’d rather not acknowledge that the others — underserving as they are — hold any sway over you. To do so would surely stir up strife. She orders you to take off Pantalone’s many adornments in her presence, to scrub your skin raw until Signora’s noisome perfume no longer permeates your skin. This inevitably leads to problems anyway, with you at the unfortunate center. Arlecchino has you traipsing across a tightrope to satisfy her wishes. She firmly believes that you’re wasted on the others. If she had total control over you, she knows she could make not only herself happy, but you as well. In fits of frustration, she’ll tell you that they put so little consideration into your wellbeing. You wonder if she’ll ever examine her own actions with such scrutiny.

Seek out Scaramouche even when he acts like he wants nothing to do with you. It was almost a relief the first time he shooed you away — in your naivety, you thought you’d get a well-deserved break from dealing with these impossible creatures. When you actually went to dismiss yourself, it soured his mood for the rest of the day. No, this isn’t what he wants, you realized as your fingers hovered over the doorknob. He wants you to fight back. Tactfully, of course, it wouldn’t do for you to backtalk openly. It flatters him greatly when you persist in staying with him, despite his persistent prickliness. Say that if it pleases him, you’d love nothing more than to spend just a few more minutes in his presence, should he be gracious enough to the grant privilege. He’ll make a big show of sighing and making it seem as if he’s begrudgingly accepting your request. If you insist, he’ll tell you. You can tell you’ve done well by the grin he’s barely able to suppress.

School your facial expressions in the presence of Dottore, who doesn’t take kindly to any perceived criticism of his dubious morality. While you’re only able to comprehend a fraction of his mad lectures, what he speaks of disturbs and chills you to the bone, keeping you away at night as if someone was holding your eyelids open. However, he doesn’t want another critic. He wants you to be left in awe over his uncontested intellectual prowess. It must make the minds of his cohorts look dull in comparison, he figures. A transcendent mind such as his has got to earn your admiration. Dottore feels you’re his cute little pupil. When you appear confused by the depth of his designs, expect him to cling to your side even longer, he won’t be content until you sufficiently understand. This is more of an excuse to talk to you longer, especially since your attention is always in high demand.

Always wear the gaudy gifts that Pantalone insists on bestowing you. Not only must you pretend to be grateful for the displays of profligacy, but you must act excited too. It's enough to antagonize what few shards of pride you have left to cling to. He’ll clasp necklaces around you that feel tighter than a noose, set crowns on your head so heavy with the burden of their jewels it becomes a struggle to look anywhere but the ground. You’re cursed to feel his presence even in his absence. It’s a bitter reminder that at this point, the only thing you’re missing is a collar. The others share your opinion and are free to voice their dissent while you must bite your tongue almost hard enough to bleed. Signora says something daintier that complements your complexion would be better, whereas Scaramouche longs to rip the ostentatious ornaments from you entirely. Pantalone just chuckles and says it’s your decision. Don’t you like his gifts? Always nod when he asks you this.

Be wary of accepting Childe’s supposed sympathy, for he is just as guilty in your subjugation. The best actor is one who makes you forget you’re watching a play. As a mere member of the audience, it is never your place to express dislike of the script, no matter how much the characters on stage oppress you. Childe sets himself up to be your favorite by playing your advocate. He’s not against your suffering, so long as he gets to be the balm that makes it all better. He affirms the thoughts you hold prisoner in your mind, for if you were to speak them, there’d be hell to pay. Makes jokes about how creepy Sandrone’s predilections are or how impossible it is for you to please Signora. Not him, however, he promises that there’s no need to be so on guard in his presence. It’s so tempting to buy into it. You’d do well to remember he is not the ally he portrays himself to be, he’s every bit of an enemy to your self-interest as the others.

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lovesickeros · 4 months

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☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

#genshin impact #genshin impact yandere #genshin yandere #neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #furina x reader #yandere furina #yandere furina x reader #fic tag #pats neuvillette this noodle dragon can be so pathetic #aiming for pathetic desperate and slightly guilty. it gnaws at him knowing he's keeping you like a bird in a cage #esp if you react extremely negatively hes like a kicked puppy #not outwardly but internally hes a MESS. sobbing crying wailing #furina and neuvi sopping wet kittens u found in a cardboard box in an alley #vs arle thinking abt all the crimes shes going 2 commit in the process w/o an ounce of guilt. blackmail? check. kidnapping? check.#a little murder for flavor. as u can see im coping horribly w being practically snowed in rn i need 2 be put down #its like 4 degrees out rn (fahrenheit) and getting colder ueueueue i am dying..........#only thing keeping me going is my furinameow plushie coming. eventually. staying strong just for her.................#also needs 2 be mentioned all the stories r separate ksjfkhdsf #no not everyone in fontaine is yan and trying 2 kidnap sorry for getting ur hopes up..#yet #anyway u cant convince me arle isn't bribing (or just straight up forcing) her agents into doing stupid shit so she can “save” you #and make you owe her #two silly goofy little creatures vs the personification of gaslight gatekeep girlboss (heavy on the gaslight)#also split this up in 3 parts bc. lol. lmao. im not writing 9 characters at once goodbye #also all the masks do actually have significance i have an entire essay on why i gave each animal to specific characters okay

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yourheart-inmyhands · 7 months

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Hello, I have seen some of your works and have enjoyed each of them, and after seeing that you are still accepting request I was wondering if you would consider a Yandere Arlecchino with a pastry Chef reader, a slight spoiler for the Archon Quest is that she seems to like sweets a great deal, perhaps the reader is oblivious to her yandere antics and simply enjoys making sweets for her and her children.

Or perhaps a Yandere Arlecchino with her children being platonic yanderes that want their "Father" and the one they love to be together, and as such they try and play matchmaker with her and the reader.

Either way, I hope you like the ideas, and that you stay safe and take care.

P.S. Here is just a brainrot for you, but imagine Platonic Yandere Arlecchino not only vetting Lynette's love interest, but also helping her get together with them once she starts to approve of them.

i could platonically put you in my mouth and crunch on you like a jolly rancher, thank you for this amazing idea, i could write about this endlessly but i didn't want to get too long <3333 pls request more of this so i can write more in the future

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied stalking, intentional increase of Fatui members, delusional behaviors, implied trickery of reader, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Arlecchino with a pastry chef beloved would be a very interesting concept! You, as the pasty maker, would notice a sudden influx of Fatui members in your once quaint little cafe. The upside is that sales had been through the roof and no trouble seemed to linger anymore, the downside was that most locals had been too nervous to stay around for long, often ordering and leaving or coming in for a pick-up before leaving. It was alright though, one delightful woman always seemed to stick around for a chat!

A sigh of content left your lips as you closed up shop for the night. It had been a long day with many desserts having been made but you managed it as always. It wasn’t until you were headed to the front of the store to lock the doors that you noticed her standing out front, patiently and politely. A pleasant smile crossed her face as she saw you, raising a delicate, gloved hand to offer you a polite smile. “I know you’re closed but I just wanted to come say hi. I had more work than I thought I would today and wasn’t able to make it before closing.” She was as polite and well-mannered as always, something you had admired about her. People around town spoke of her being part of the Fatui but you couldn’t really see it. Sure her outfit seemed a little strange but she was too kind to be evil. She was always so nice and polite, she spoke so well-mannered and always left a generous tip. It was hard to see someone so perfect being diabolical. She had simply come off as the perfect person to be around.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x male reader #arlecchino x gender neutral reader #yandere arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino x male reader #yandere arlecchino x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin #genshin yandere #yandere arlecchino #arlecchino yandere

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aluraveil · 10 months

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no title because i dont have a name for this and i cant think of anything what

TW: Yandere themes, implied kidnapping, captivity of reader, Arlecchino is really mean and aggressive, and yelling.

Word Count: 800

A/N: This is so bad because I rushed to get this out. Again this is incredibly rushed so don’t expect to much LOL

There's always a way to tell if Arlecchino is in a good mood today.

Whenever she's happy, she always opens the door like how she normally does. She opens it, and then she'll close it with a soft click. She'll take off her shoes and hang up her coat and then she'll call out your name and that would be your cue to come greet her at the door.

You were laying on your bed wanting nothing more to sleep and do nothing the entire day. But suddenly the door slammed open and loud footsteps echoed through the house.

The second that the door slammed open, you could feel your heart drop.

Arlecchino.

She's back. And most importantly, she's not in a good mood today.

You could hear yelling and the voice of her screaming about who knows what. The second you heard her yelling, you instinctively hug your blanket tighter because you're scared. You're scared of her.

As if on instinct, you grabbed your blanket and kneeled down into the corner of the room. You sat there as if you could hide away from her.

You knew how angry Arlecchino gets whenever she's in a bad mood. 9 times out of 10 she always makes sure to take it out on you. She's scary and she yells a lot whenever she's mad at you. Flashbacks of when she would yell at you came across your mind and anxiety filled your veins.

You could hear loud footsteps making their way to your shared bedroom. Oh no. You don't know what to do. She's probably going to yell at you isn't she?..

Well you were right.

Arlecchino opened the room with a loud thud and despite knowing it was coming, it still scared you because of the loud noise.

She took a glance at you all curled in the corner with a blanket over you and how nervous you looked, she raised an eyebrow before saying, "why are you sitting in the dirty corner? Get up."

You didn't know what to do. You were paralyzed in fear. You took one look at her face and you could tell she was pretty heated.

Damn.

She had to ask that didn't she? What a way to rub salt on the wound.

"Did you hear what I said? I told you to get up." Arlecchino said looking disgusted at the way you were on the ground. The anger in her face dissapeared a bit before she noticed how nervous you looked. "Why do you look so scared right now?"

"I- uh.. um" You stuttered. How the hell are you supposed to answer that?

"I'm scared of you because you're always yelling and whenever you get angry you become scary and I don't like it. I don't like how you brought me here against my will. I hate you. I hate you so much. You're a cruel person and I don't want to ever see you again."

Is what you wanted to say.

But alas you were a scared pet, too afraid to talk back to your master.

"How many times do I have to tell you?!?!" She begins shouting. "Get up from the floor right now."

You scrambled to get up when she started shouting at you. It was best not to anger her anymore.

"You can never do what you're told can you?" She yelled. "I had to tell you three times to get up from the floor."

Arlecchino began yelling at you for the next minute about how you can't follow simple directions. After that, she walked away to let off some steam leaving you in the room all dumbfounded. You sat on the bed and decided to lay there. You were tired of her and how angry she could be.

Later on in the night she came back to your room and she saw you laying there. She laid right next to you and her arms wrapped around you body holding you tightly. Your heart immediately dropped when she starting cuddling you.

"I love you darling.." She mumbled as she nuzzled her face into your neck. A few hours ago she was yelling at you and now she's acting like nothing happened?

You couldn't do anything about it though. Arlecchino is always like this. She never apologizes after she yells at you.

You were afraid that if you didn't give her any affection, she might start yelling at you again. So you said the four words that would make her happy.

"I love you Arlecchino.."

You could feel her lips turning into a smile as her icy touch makes you shiver. As long as you show her some sort of affection she will be happy. Maybe she'll stop taking her anger out on you next time..

Probably not.

But hey? You could at least have some hope right?

Right?

#yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #yandere arlecchino fics #genshin impact #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere fatui #no title fic

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harmonysanreads · 1 month

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Hi Harmony! I just noticed that your requests are open and I decided to drop by with a small request I thought about for weeks.

I was thinking about Arlecchino for a while, and it made me ponder of the concept of Arlecchino with a darling on a reincarnation AU. Maybe Arlecchino has met her darling at such an inconvenient time, and every time that it has happened, only she remembers their past lives.

It probably goes to the point that Arlecchino starts devising ways to be able to keep her darling safe, because each time they would meet, her darling gets into an accident... And it would seem that each time she tried, then it would simply fail. And it would push to a point where she resorts to one of the more not so morally good methods.

I don't know if this counts as a req. or a brainrot, but I offer you this idea because I think it could be interesting to think about sometimes. You're free to deny it btw if its typical, hard, or overall you can't write it <3 I completely understand if that's the case.

(p.s.: this is the one running @yxstxrdrxxm BAHAHAHAHAHA I'm sorry if I haven't replied to your message during OLC, I dont know how to talk to you w/o sounding really awkward </3 also!! hydration check! Anyways thats all, have fun with the idea + I hope you have a great day Harmony :D)

Pantomime Of The Night

yandere!arlecchino x reader

cw(s) : yandere, vampire!arlecchino, mentions of blood, murder, slight gore, non-consensual touching, unbalanced power dynamics

wc : 2.1k

a/n: omg hiii! would you believe me if I said I was just thinking about you before getting this ask? also please don't worry about my message! i had a hunch that you might be in a situation of sorts. thank you so so much for requesting arlecchino because i've been itching to write for her for a long time! i decided to go with vampire!arlecchino for this because i thought it'd suit the reincarnation theme well. i hope you enjoy it<3

lovely illustration based on this fic by a lovely person <3 (spoiler alert!)

At the deepest hours of the night, even the innocent crackles of hearthfire sound as clamorous as gun-shots.

You're dazed by the flame's continuous dance until the aroma of freshly brewed tea reaches your senses and the servants have left. A sharp clank from Arlecchino's glass and the weight of her gaze prompt you to meet her eyes. The light from the fireplace casts shadows on the other half of her fair face, she seemed to have foregone her usual taught posture in favor of a relaxed one. One of her hands supports her cheek while the other holds the wine glass, the beverage within sloshes as the claw-like accessories on her fingers curl around the object.

Your side of the table is far more decorated, desserts that you've never even seen in your impoverished mortal life and that tea you've grown fond of over the course of your stay in her mansion sit appetizingly. All beckon you to feast, all seek to fan the flames of voracity and you offer but a thoughtless stare in return.

The master of the house seems to have noticed your lack of appetite as she finally breaks the stretched out silence, “These are all confectioneries of the highest quality from the town and as I recall, all of your favorites. But you give them no more than a blank stare... you've also not taken a sip from the tea. May I inquire why?”

The raspy tone of her observation has your arms covered in gooseflesh, though, you note she does not sound as confused as her words suggest. You can feel her onyx eyes gloss over every part of your person, inspecting and dissecting each and every visible clue. You swallow dryly, “It’s just that it's way too late in the night,”

“Yet you look as ready as ever to head out. Tell me, have you been anticipating my return, dearest?”

Arlecchino stares pointedly at your attire, likely referring to the traveling clothes you have on instead of the silk nightwear that she had gifted. Your shoulders tense unconsciously, there's something about the way she speaks at this instance that has your heartbeat crescendoing. The silver haired woman gives you a few more beats of anxiety, her talons scrape against the dainty glass.

“I’ve been informed that you have not eaten anything since yesterday.”

The words escape her painted lips easily, but they don't fail to send a jolt through your system. Throughout your stay, she'd never spoken to you like this, like you were one of her children who did not know better and decided to cross a line. That realization renders you further puzzled, you did nothing wrong to begin with, but her tone made you feel as though you were on the verge of doing so. You clear your parched throat and gather yourself to meet her eyes. This time, you do not allow yourself to wilt at the force of her burning stare.

“Arlecchino, I have something to tell you.”

The addressed woman straightens up at your sudden serious tone, her hand abandons the wine glass on the table and you inhale involuntarily at the scratches that now decorate the object, “I’m all ears, dearest.”

Your brows crease, as usual, Arlecchino is courteous, too courteous for someone who makes it obvious she's informed of something that she wasn't supposed to know. She's been like this ever since you and your travel-partner stepped foot in her ambiguous estate. Initially, you were touched by the hospitality she and her adopted children had shown you. Your greed lulled any arising suspicions, you neither questioned why she'd been so generous to a commoner with nothing more than fifty mora to their name nor did you bother to think about how she was affording all those gifts. You naïvely wished to believe in her kindness and that nothing was wrong about this house. But of course, self-woven deceptions last so long.

“Before you mistake me for being ungrateful, I did plan to inform you before leaving. Me and my friend are extremely thankful for the care your house has shown us, but we cannot stay in one place forever.”

“Why not?” you halt at her abrupt question but she follows up before you could even part your lips, “Have we lacked in any area to provide you with the adequate comfort? Have any of my children said something? If it's the latter, I'll apologize in their stead, they can be quite playful at times, I'm sure you understand.”

You stare dumbfounded at the sudden turn this conversation has taken, she wasn't supposed to behave like this. Why is she searching for a reason to make you stay when she should've been happy that a burden was about to be lifted off of her shoulders? Are all nobles this pushy?

“I—” you cut yourself off as the silver-haired woman leans in without warning, her shadow envelopes the delicacies laid out on the small table.

“Or… have you seen something?” she drawled.

You cannot hold back a flinch this time. A curse echoes in your mind at your stupidity, this was no ‘conversation’ to begin with ; this was yet another trap and you'd willingly played right into the palm of Arlecchino's hand. If there's one thing you've learned about this mysterious noblewoman, it is that she enjoys the process of dragging answers out of everyone. From the very beginning, she was aware of your scheme but, she chose to wear that mask of courtesy one more time and lured you out in the open, unguarded. If only your friend arrived to fetch you from your room at the right time, you wouldn't be in this messy situation.

Your eyes dart from her unblinking expression to the sharp accessories that adorn her gloved fingers and something about them forces you to reply quickly.

“No! I mean, you know that I'm a traveler, do you not? It's already been six months since we came to your estate, me and my friend were starting to.. crave that adventurous thrill—yes! We were starting to miss being on the road and decided to depart in the early morning.”

Once upon a time, your late mother had told you that some people in this world are like spiders. They're always at the centerpiece of their lair, leaving intricate translucent webs for unassuming prey to get tangled upon. Although the croaked warnings of your bedridden mother did not make much sense to the younger you, you understood now exactly what she meant.

“Incorrect. You were planning to escape with that friend of yours, weren't you?”

The hearthfire burns bright, shrouding Arlecchino's expression in shadows. The chilling octave of her voice defeats the warmth of the fireplace and has every muscle in your body stiffened. Escape? Her word choice never ceased to baffle you throughout this faux tea-party. She speaks as though you were her prisoner instead of a guest. She tilts her head and has the audacity to look betrayed as though you were a possession she held dear, and not a random human she decided to take pity upon.

Arlecchino runs a hand through her silvery hair with a sigh that actually indicates ennui and you bite back a scowl, “Honestly, I do not understand why you even befriended that thing. He's an obnoxious blabbermouth with a nose bigger than his brain. And he's loud, too. You've always preferred to mingle with level headed people with a sufficient intellectual capacity in the past and here you are, glaring at me as though—”

“Don’t speak like you know me!”

You pant after the force of that outburst, your voice ricochets across the walls of her room and further beyond. You open your mouth to continue but stop when you notice a strange flicker in the silver-haired woman's eyes. It's gone in a blink and is replaced with irritation just as quickly however.

“Oh, but I do know you. I know you better than you know yourself, in fact. I know that there are exactly 11 moles throughout your body, I know all your preferences and fears. Don't believe me? Did you really never stop to question how I managed to give you things that catered to your tastes? How I knew what you desired even before you did? Or were you so mesmerized by the words of that friend of yours to pay minimum attention?”

If the tone of a person's voice could kill, you'd be rotting in a ditch by now. You would've never believed someone could sound this malicious while not even raising their voice. You want nothing more than to shrink away but the adrenaline accumulated through your anger pushes you to keep digging your grave.

“And so what if that's exactly how it is? You have no right to have a say in who I choose to be ‘mesmerized’ by!”

A ‘ha!’ laden with disbelief escapes Arlecchino's lips. Fine silvery strands bounce at the mocking tilt of her head, “So what will you do now? Walk out of the gates with that waste of space like nothing happened?”

“Oh, you bet I will!” you fume, rising from the chair and turning on your heels. You barely take one step away from the table until the full weight of Arlecchino's malice crashes down on you and you remember something important.

“Arlecchino, where is my friend?”

The silver haired woman leisurely raises her wine glass at your stilted words, “In my glass.”

You swivel towards her, blinking several times as if to confirm you didn't mishear.

“Well, here and… probably in the stomachs of my pet vultures, excluding the carcass, that is. I'll admit, the taste is subpar compared to the trouble I went through. That thing kept on screaming until one of the vultures tore its heart out. Ugh, my ears are still ringing.”

Your wide eyes tremble towards the glass in her hand, the deep red liquid within sloshes to the direction of Arlecchino's hand ; paired with her words, your friend’s destiny becomes a no-brainer. All your wits abandon you in that instance and in a moment of sheer panic, you take a step back. Arlecchino promptly interferes with your plans, the door and windows close with no little sound and the table and your chair disappear without a trace—all in the snap of her fingers.

“What are you?”

You would've screamed if you didn't forget how to use your lungs. But then again, you doubt anyone would come to save you from her clutches even if you did. Your eyes connect to her onyx ones and in that moment, she appeared far less human than she'd been this whole encounter. Her pupils flash as two red xs and you feel an invisible pull tugging you to her side. The temptation dominates any coherent thoughts until you find yourself an arms length away from her seated self. Her claws dig into the flesh of your arm and yank you to her lap.

Free from the haze of that strange sensation, the first thing that permeates your senses is how cold Arlecchino's proximity is. Your palm meets her chest in a feeble attempt to push her away but all it does is stun you when you notice the absence of a heartbeat. You feel the sting of something sharp on your chin and waist, your eyes glance back and forth between the sources—dread pools in your stomach. Because of your closeness and the light from the fireplace, you're able to see that the sharp objects you'd mistaken for accessories are actually her nails and the gloves, her real skin.

Perhaps your trembling was so pitiful that Arlecchino could not help but soften her gaze, “Do you truly not recall?”

You look up at her, thoroughly perplexed. There's that previous glint in her eyes again but you've already accepted that understanding this woman was beyond you. One moment she accuses you as though you've been unfaithful, then she vividly describes how she murdered an innocent man and the next she looks almost… hurt?

“Recall what?”

The silver-haired woman’s red lips part and you gulp as unnaturally sharp fangs sneer at you. Albeit, she does not answer you and you wonder if you should get accustomed to playing mental gymnastics with her just to get a simple answer. Her talons let go of your waist and drag their up to your collarbone, creating a deliberate and irrepairable tear on your clothes. Her nails drum against your skin for three seconds before they latch onto your throat.

“Although, that'll no longer be an issue.”

She forces you to make eye-contact with a sharp tug on your chin, the color drains from your face as her cool breath washes against your skin. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but are quickly shushed as you feel her fangs sink into your lower lip.

“Because, we'll have ample time to get acquainted with each other starting from today.”

#requests: batch two #answered #yandere #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #arlecchino #the knave #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #navxry

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ordowrites · 20 days

Text

Red

cw: modern day au!, mdni, minors dni, yandere, obsessive behaviors, possessive behaviors, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, sugar baby dynamics, afab reader, marking, biting, allusions to sex. i do not condone anything in this story. unbeta'd.

Her favorite color of lipstick is red, it stains your skin every time she kisses you, amongst all the purple marks she insists on leaving on your skin where you can't hide it. Arlecchino is never quite satisfied when it comes to marking up your skin, and you're pretty sure she's just a few steps away from finding a way to permanently mark you. She, at least, has some need for privacy because you aren't on your knees in public for her.

It started off as a simple exchange - she would pay you to go to dinner with her, accompany her to different places, you could finally afford rent so long as you gave yourself in return. A beautiful, rich woman like her could have anyone she wanted but she chooses to indulge and spoil you instead. If you want the expensive dress you've been staring at for a few days, well, all you have to do is simply ask. Of course, this isn't free.

"You're very lucky," your friends say with slight envy. "You don't even have to work anymore." And you don't tell them that your relationship with her means you're no longer allowed to date anyone, and you're pretty sure she has ties to criminal organizations so you can't really leave her. And now, you really can't, not when you're free of debt at the small expense of your past life.

She isn't so controlling that you can't go out anywhere, but she is certainly with you. All of the time. You've elected to never really go out with your friends anymore, not when she tells you that she thinks so and so is just using you, and "you should consider doing something else that isn't getting drunk at a bar" and little, subtle nitpicks about the company you keep. You've slowly weaned out your friend group until there's very few left, and all your contacts are people she knows and approves of.

Arlecchino buys you coffee from your favorite coffee shop, the way you like it, and softly kisses you with those bright red lips, leaving some of her lipstick smudged on you.

The two of you are getting ready for some party with a colleague that Arlecchino hates - Pierro, you think vaguely - and it's a very big, lavish and important thing so of course, it takes all day to get read for. You are more like a pet for her to show off than a companion these days.

You're dressed in that lovely dress you wanted - she had picked the color, because of course she did. Your hair is styled the way she likes it, your make up about complete. Arlecchino sits next to you, her striking eyes peering right into your soul as she frowns, clearly dissatisfied with your current get up.

"Is...something wrong?"

"No." she says, after a moment as she reaches for a tube of lipstick, uncapping it. With her other hand, she gently but firmly grips your face and gently paints your lips with her favorite red. Arlecchino's favorite color is red, you remind yourself, trying to ignore the way your skin crawls and the desire to flee from the room.

"I just think you look lovelier in red, my dearest."

#yandere cw #yandere genshin x you #yandere arlecchino #yandere genshin x reader #yandere arlecchino x you #yandere arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino x y/n #yandere imagines #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino imagines #ordo.txt #ordo.text

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yanderehsr · 7 months

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Can I please request Arlecchino,Natasha,himeko and kafka with reader who died but came back to life somehow maybe dottore did some for arlecchino ones. Also I'm a big fan of your writing😊😍

I'm happy you enjoy my writing😄

Hope you'll enjoy

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapped reader

Arlecchino: Never before had she felt such pain and despair as when you died, nothing even came close, so when the doctor came to her with a solution, how could she ever refuse. Nothing is as important as getting you back.

Arlecchino will not cry when you are brought back, but she will be extra affectionate and soft. Her protectiveness will increase by tenfold at the very least, she puts some of her children on duty to protect you while she's gone, she can not let you die again, not now and if she got to choose, not ever.

"Don't you ever scare me like that... *sigh* I don't mean to be angry at you but I can't allow you to die again"

Natasha: The shock she feels when you die is indescribable. It seems like no matter how much she tried, you still died. For a while she will not know what to do. But then it hits her, what if you could come back, what if she could make it happen, it becomes her new obsession, to bring you back.

You wake up in a cold room, it looks just like the clinic room you used to stay in, but it feels... different somehow. You can see different operation tables all around you, a person on each one, you can see Natasha hunched over one of them. As soon as she hears you she turns to look at you, her eyes looks crazed and eyebags darker than before, as soon as she realises it's you, she smiles.

"Y-you're alive, I did it, you're back... you have no idea how much I needed to sacrifice to get you back, but that doesn't matter now, you're alive and you wont die again"

Himeko: She becomes depressed upon the news of your death, she doesn't know what to do without you, she doesn't eat, doesn't drink and barely sleeps at all. She misses you so much, why did you have to die.

You can imagine Himeko's surprise and joy once she finds you again, weren't you supposed to be dead... anyways who cares, you are here now and that's all that matters. Himeko wont hesitate to kidnap you and lock you into her room, she wont let you leave her ever again.

"I can't believe this, are you actually back... thank goodness, any longer and I would've went mad... you aren't leaving me this time... right?"

Kafka: She wont show it but she is sad, she feels like crying but tears doesn't fall and she can't express it. On the outside she is just the same but for those that are close to her they can see she attacks a bit more recklessly, it later becomes so bad that Elio will have to step in to tell her how to get you back.

Kafka doesn't care what she has to do or who she has to kill, she will have you back. You are hers, how dare you leave her, she will make sure to punish you when you come back... but when you do come back, all she does is hug you, she can't bring herself to hurt you. Kafka will bring you somewhere safe where you can't possibly die, she'll make sure of it.

"You took your sweet time coming back to me, had enough of a vacation did you... I've missed you"

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere female #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #yandere natasha #yandere natasha x reader #yandere himeko #yandere himeko x reader #yandere kafka #yandere kafka x reader

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daylite-writes · 8 months

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arlecchino and any character you want with a pretty mermaid/fairy s/o to show off

“Falling Tides” — Yandere!Alrlechinno x Mermaid!Reader

After an incident with Fontaine’s mechanical fishing boats, you are left to rely on humans to help you heal. Unfortunately, all of them don’t have good intentions.

cw: drugging, implied kidnapping, drowning (kinda? Reader has gills but is held underwater against her will for a sec),

~~~

“The beauty of my homeland can never be overstated, but darling, you must be the pinnacle of it all…” She said, stepping forward to lift your chin with the tips of her claws. The strange woman smiled as you said nothing, pulling away to pace the edge of your… pool? Tank?

You’d been there a few days, slowly healing ever since your bloody encounter with Fontaine’s overly mechanical fishing boats. It had almost ground your tale to its bones. Luckily, the workers saw you struggling against the machine and pulled you free before more than a few long bloody scrapes across your tail and a couple dozen scales lost.

“Hello…?” you croaked out, trying to speak the difficult human language. It was always easier to listen than to speak it.

“Hello.” She smiled down at you, towering over you from where you swam in the pool.

“Here to help?” You asked, not quite knowing how to ask if she was one of the doctors or not.

“I suppose.”

So she was! Victoriously, you grinned, shark teeth flashing. “I'm going home soon?”

“Ah,” she grinned, coming down to kneel at the edge of the water, you swam up to her with little fear, meeting her face to face. Her eyes seemed to twinkle. “You must believe me to be one of the little doctors helping you recover. You are lucky mer are a species favored by the archon, otherwise you’d be left to the elements. Or to be ground up by their machines.”

The wistful sigh as she reached out to hold a lock of your hair confused you. “Not here to help?”

“No. Oh goodness no.” She shook her head, laughing slightly. “I just came to see you. Even as a little girl I dreamt of mermaids. So ethereal. So perfect.”

Her hands, clawed at the tip, reached out slowly to glide over the ends of your hair.

“I’d love to hear you sing, darling.”

With your limited understanding of human language, you couldn’t quite understand everything she said, but one word stood out. One you knew well. Sing.

“You want a song?” So that’s why she was here. Mer were no strangers to humans seeking them out to listen to their voice.

“Desperately.” She said, her voice breathy and low, eyes trained on you and only you.

“What song?”

“Anything. Anything so long as it comes from you.”

You nodded, before taking a deep breath.

The song was an echoing melody bare of any words, instead made up of flowing stretches of songs and whistles, like the whales that one roamed the land.

She gave a soft sigh.

When the song ended, you realized you had unconsciously closed your eyes, a common habit of yours. When you opened them though, you almost wish you hadn’t.

The woman looked ecstatic. No. Obsessed. Eyes wide, breath labored. Her face morphed into a grin. “Amazing. You’re simply amazing.”

She stood up, eyes still trained intensely on yours.

“Breathtaking.” She turned her head to the side, eyes locking onto something you couldn’t see. “Do it.”

Something clicked, and the water in your tank turned warm as the pipes released a dark, inky liquid into the water.

Alarmed, you looked around you with wide eyes. What was happening?

“Oh, I suppose I haven’t introduced myself. I am Arlecchino. You will know me well soon enough.”

You spun around to look up at her. She looked almost pleased. Didn’t she understand you were in danger?

“H-help!” You stuttered out, using your arms to hold onto the edge of the tank to lift your torso above the contaminated water.

“Unfortunately.” The clack of her shoes signaled her approach, but you didn’t dare look away from the rapidly darkening waters beneath you. “That is not what’s about to happen.”

She pushed you away from the edge, straight into the water. It tasted sweet and sticky in your lungs and gills.

She was a predator, not a friend, you realized then. You pulled back, turning away and diving into the deep end of your tank. You’d rather be in the contaminated tank than with her. Your voice was loud and clear even from under several feet of water. “Leave!”

“Oh hush.” Arlecchino said, pacing the edge of your tank. “It’s hardly dangerous.”

You blinked, slow. Heavy labored breaths brought the contaminant into your bloodstream quickly.

With your head pulsing and your vision swaying, it was no surprise you didn’t realize she entered your pool. You were far too busy trying to keep yourself away.

The ink in the water, that must be it. Deciding to take your chance with the woman above instead of the drugged water below, you made a move for the surface.

You didn’t make it. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, then a hand came up to hold your head still by the hair.

You thrashed, but Arlecchino held you under, your panic forcing you to breathe the sticky sweet flavor the water had taken on. If you were any less panicked, you’d have noticed the way one of her hands shifted to stroke down your ribs, sharp nails tracking the fluttering of your breath. Until all at once, your fighting stopped, and you laid limp in her arms.

The last thing you saw before floating away was a Cheshire grin as she finally, finally, lifted you free from the water.

~~~

an: sorry if.this took so long and isn’t quite what was asked for! I don’t often do stuff established relationships. Also just stuck to Arlechinno because I don’t have the brain juice to do two. Hope it was enjoyable though!

#genshin fanfic #yandere Genshin #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #arlecchino

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ddarker-dreams · 10 months

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Imagine yan!Scara's darling openly simping for Arlecchino 👀 (because I would... Hottest harbinger after Scara fr)

we must be on the same wavelength because i was thinking something similar 👁👁

scaramouche is seething yet he can't do anything about arlecchino's flirtations aside from exchanging thinly veiled insults. it boils his synthetic blood to no end. who does this attempted home wrecker think she is? his fatui underlings are useless. if arlecchino stops by, saying she wishes to speak with you, they can't very well deny her. she fawns over you even more when scara is away on business. she'll sigh, lamenting over how utterly tragic it is a precious thing like you is forced to deal with such a greedy doll. that if it were her— (she cuts herself off here, knowing that there is indeed a line she may not cross, though the implication isn't lost on you).

she'll smile, then place a pointer finger to her lips, as if swearing you into a secret. the walls in scaramouche's estate may have ears but this motion is for your eyes alone.

scaramouche lets you say a total of One nice thing about her before he's cutting you off, his fingers drumming against a nearby surface. he's not having it. you're told outright that he'll have no discussion of this 'wretched woman' and that her true nature would sicken you. he'll heave a humorless laugh, saying that at least with him, there's no guesswork. he doesn't temper his nature to be more palatable for you. (he scowls when you immediately agree to this point).

"the same can't be said for that wench," he'll muse. "she says i'm greedy? she'd practically devour you if given the chance. consider yourself lucky that i got to you first."

since scaramouche can't kill a fellow harbinger, he satiates his bloodlust by ruining any non-fatui related schemes arlecchino is cooking up. to which arlecchino taunts him by commenting you look miserable in his presence, like a wilted flower. on and on the cycle goes with you unfortunately serving as the focal point.

#this idea is about to live in my head for the next week #i can tell #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere arlecchino x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #concepts #answered #scaranya

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morose-melodies · 1 year

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WOAAAAAA UR WORK” how to defeat a giant” IS SUCH A MASTERPIECE LIKE MWA🤌 IS IT OKAY FOR ME TO ASK U TO CONTINUE IT!!

how to defeat a giant | yandere! fatui harbingers x reader

part 1 part 2 part 3

previously/part 1: the harbingers fear that one day their archon will have no use for them, so they all agree to remove their archon's power with the help of dottore.

summary/part 2: after being locked away for so long and always being under the watch of the fatui, you try to run away.

content warning: blood, obsession, graphic detail (?)

taglist: @jessicausui @carrotlizzard @mellowwillowy @nymphxlia @rainycyclearcade @vixcafe

this must be how a bird in a cage feels.

gazing out of their cage knowing they can not get out. it was upsetting and degrading. it was depriving but the thing you wanted most you couldn't get.

freedom.

you watched as the snow fell slowly, your cheek pressed against the cold window as you imagined yourself outside and away from the harbingers.

your breath fogged up the window as you sighed and pulled away from the window, looking outside only seemed to do more harm than good.

it made you feel nostalgic in the worst way possible, in a way that made you want to bash open the window and jump out, just to feel the cold air and snow against your skin all while knowing you'd get injured from the fall.

but it would be worth it, for the moment that the air touched your skin and then the snow, it would be worth it if you could be outside for just a few seconds.

it would be worth it.

the pain would very worth your freedom, or at least a few minutes of freedom.

it would be worth it.

it would be.

"are you feeling well, your majesty?" you slightly backed away from the window, turning to see PANTALONE standing at the doorway, with a bowl of soup in hand.

"no, I'm not." you stood up slowly and walked over to pantalone, taking the bowl from him and setting it onto your dresser, "so why do you keep asking if I feel well?"

"it's merely instinct," pantalone replied before he adjusted his coat and turned to the door, "where are the others?" you asked just before he left.

"it's only columbina and I at the moment, why?" pantalone pauses at the doorway and glances back at you, a questioning look on his face.

"I was just wondering because it seemed so quiet today," you muster up a fake smile and that caused pantalone to smile before leaving your room and locking the door behind himself.

you glanced down into the bowl of soup before back at the window and decided you'd let the soup cool down for a while before eating it.

is a nearly fatal injury worth freedom? you pondered as you sat down in front of the window once again.

yes. you concluded that you'd do anything for freedom. anything.

and that included throwing your bowl of soup at the window as hard as you could.

adrenaline filled your body as the bowl shattered upon contact with the window and soup covered the window and floor.

you hastily approached the window and checked for any cracks and fortunately, there was a small crack.

you didn't even think before you began throwing anything and everything at the window, which causes a lot of noise and a large mess.

but you didn't care.

and with one last hit to the window, the base of a lamp it shattered, glass covering the floor but you didn't think about it as you dragged yourself through the window, which left multiple cuts on your body and tore your clothes.

as the adrenaline wore off, you were forced to acknowledge how high up you were and how badly the fall would injure you.

you released a shaky breath, your hands tightening around the window frame, which caused the glass to dig further into your hands.

then there was the telltale sound of your door opening, followed by a gasp and then pleading. it was columbina.

but all sounds faded as you took a deep breath and jumped.

...

everything was so cold.

your eyes fluttered open, as cold air brushed against the tip of your nose. you sat up slowly, your hit and shoulder aching.

but you made it.

you felt calm and collected despite what you had to do to get there. but it wouldn't be soon before the harbingers came out for you.

you forced yourself to stand, and began to move, aimlessly, through the cold snow, toward the forest behind the palace.

"your majesty! please wait," COLUMBINA cried as she pushed through the snow to get towards you. you glanced back for less than a second before you began running.

fear overcoming your body. fear that you'd lose your newfound freedom.

"your majesty, did I do something wrong?!" she struggled to reach you through the thick snow, as she reached out to you.

you ran faster, into the forest, hearing columbina's footsteps before fainter and fainter the farther in you got.

"please come back! I love you!" she cried, her voice cracking before her footsteps came to a halt.

you wanted to stop and comfort her, just as she did you for the past month, but you knew better than to do that.

she couldn't be trusted.

though her cries were pitiful, you thought as you slowed down and dropped to your knees, taking in deep and shaking breaths.

she never did anything wrong, quite the contrary, actually, she comforted you whenever you required comfort.

you leaned onto a tree and took a deep breath, as snow continued to fall around you.

...

there was a faint knock on the door, which was met with no reply.

of course, dottore thought, of course, you wouldn't answer. DOTTORE twisted the door knob and looked into your room- your cage.

but what he saw in your room wasn't you, but a large mess. he opened the door and walked in, taking in the mess- the broken glass, the soup on the floor, the broken window, and drops of blood on the ground.

you were gone. dottore took in a sharp breath as he looked around, while fear grew inside of his body.

dottore approached the window and kneeled in front of the drops of blood, running a finger across it.

did someone take you by force? if not, why is there blood?

he stood up and looked out of the window and sure enough, there was a faint print of a body in the snow.

he turned to the door and left, making his way outside and from there he followed your faint footsteps into the forest.

dottore was determined to find you and bring you back, no matter what it took, or matter how much he'd have to fight you- he would bring you back.

because love comes in all shapes and forms.

...

"our majesty has gone missing."

the harbingers reacted in their special ways, though all of their reactions were laced with grief, unbelief, and shock.

PIERRO'S eye briskly roamed across the group of harbingers and noticed that two were missing, even though he made his request to see all the harbingers hours earlier.

tardiness would not be tolerated in such situations.

he turned to the fatui soldier that guarded the door and asked, "where are dottore and columbina? did my message not reach them?"

the soldiers straightened his back and replied, "we were unable to find them, lord harbinger. forgive me for the inconvenience."

pierro narrowed his eyes before turbine back to the harbingers, "our majesty will not last long in such critical conditions. so, forget about everything you were doing beforehand and focus on finding our most noble majesty."

...

ARLECCHINO and PANTALONE never really got along, but on this day, they needed to get along- for you.

the two went up to your room, in uncomfortable silence as it finally sunk in for the both of them, that you were really gone and there was a chance they'd never see you again.

"you said you were the last to see our majesty? it that true?" arlecchino questioned pantalone as she walked into your room, looking around at the mess.

"yes. I gave our majesty a bowl of soup... but apparently, our majesty never ate it," he motioned to the soup on the floor which was partially dried up.

"hmm, what a shame," arlecchino mumbled, as she looked out the window, to see faint footsteps leading to the forest "our majesty may be in the forest, look."

pantalone glanced out the window and also saw the footsteps. he turned and walked out the door, saying, "we must hurry. I couldn't imagine a life without our majesty."

arlecchino followed after pantalone and the two of them went towards the forest.

arlecchino was silent throughout the walk, though she didn't visit you as much as the others, she really, really loved you and was starting to feel some sort of guilt from not visiting you.

"there are extra footprints, perhaps our majesty was taken away," pantalone comments, and arlecchino nearly busted into a fit of rage at the comment.

but instead took in a deep breath and kept walking.

...

this wasn't a good moment for you, but a great moment for CHILDE. oh, how he loved the thrill of searching for you.

it was exciting and childe couldn't wait for the moment when he actually found you. "your majesty? where could you possibly be?" childe called out.

"be quiet for just one second!" SANDRONE scowled, as she kneeled to the ground and inspected the small drops of blood on the ground, "this could be our majesty's blood."

childe approached sandrone and asked "meaning?"

"our majesty could be very injured... if that's the case our majesty may not make it through the night, all alone." sandrone's eyes dropped and a frown grew on her face.

"oh, so we must find out majesty immediately!" childe was determined to find you, no matter what it took, because where was the fun in not finding you?

"childe! continue following the footprints," sandrone hissed as she stood up and followed after your footprints.

little did she know, those were columbina's footprints.

...

it's been hours since the harbingers first began looking for you, and you watched it all go down from a tree.

it seemed to be the safest place to be, you could see almost all of the harbingers roaming around the forest looking for you, except for capitano and pierro.

the snowfall was beautiful from your view and would be even more beautiful if the harbingers weren't around.

one day, you'd be able to watch the snowfall whenever you liked, without the harbingers around.

one day, you're going to run off to sumaru and live there. one day, you'll be free but not today, not yet.

you had no way to get around the harbingers and run because they'd catch you before you could make it to town, no doubt about it.

you kicked your legs back and forth as you watched columbina pause, a lift a hand to cover her face.

how sad.

you watched as childe walked around menacingly. you've heard him talking about hunting you down but you doubted he'd ever consider that you were in a tree.

sandrone seemed distant, to everything and everyone.

dottore started off looking for you, hours ago, but went back in, seemingly forgetting that he was looking for you.

arlecchino seemed on the edge, her hands pocketed and her eyes weary as she looked for you and called out to you in a shaky voice.

pantalone walked with his head lowered but you didn't understand why. he was always quite hard to understand but now he's even harder to understand now that you're human.

how long would it be before they left? you were getting colder and you were getting tired, but you didn't regret running away until you felt a hand wrap around your ankle.

you were in a pretty high tree, and the only harbinger tall enough to even have a chance of reaching you was CAPITANO.

"forgive me for what I'm about to do, your majesty," you stifled a scream as he pulled you down from the tree.

his arms securely wrapped around you once you were out of the tree before he said, "I've missed you, your majesty- please don't scream."

he placed a hand over your mouth, before continuing, "lord pierro requested that he be the first to see you once you've been found, so please don't bring attention to yourself, your majesty."

you struggled in his hold, twisting and turning despite what he said because you didn't want to go back but when his hold on you didn't falter you cried.

you tried to kick him, poke him and punch him but he never released you, "your majesty... please," capitano whispered, his voice low as he squeezed your arm in his hand.

"-go! let me go! stop-"

with an agitated sigh, capitano sat you on the ground, his body towering over you as he kneeled in front of you, "stop it, you're making this difficult for the both of us."

a stray tear ran down your cheek and capitano frowned, though you couldn't see it. "now, your majesty, will you come with me?" he held a hand out to you and waited for your response.

"okay... but can you promise me something?" this is a trick you've used on most of the harbingers, you don't have any real reason to do it, but it makes you feel in power.

capitano nodded, "I really like the apples in this forest... like those," you pointed a little past capitano and he looked before nodding, "whenever you can, will you pick some apples for me?"

"of course, your majesty." capitano nodded once again and you placed your hand into his, he helped you up and lifted you into his arms again and this time you didn't fight.

during the walk back to the palace, dottore was leaving just as capitano and you were entering, "oh, there you are," dottore grinned, reaching out to you and pinching your cheek, "you had everyone so worried."

your eyes narrowed at dottore and he released a soft chuckle, "there's no need to hold grudges, your majesty," dottore glanced at your bare feet and the blood soles of your feet, "send our majesty to me once you finished."

that was the last thing dottore said before turning and walking back into the palace, seeing no point in going back to the forest.

capitano brought you to pierro just as he requested. he knocked on pierro's door and pierro said, "come in."

capitano entered and the moment pierro saw you his eye widened, "what has happened to you, your majesty?" he approached you, placing a hand against your cold cheek.

capitano sat you on the couch and left.

pierro was torn to shreds once seeing you, "you look horrible, your majesty. are you in any pain," his hand ran across your cheek slowly and shakily.

the pity you saw in his eyes almost made you upset, could he not tell that you tried to run away because you didn't want to be here?

you nod.

"then it seems ill have to cut our reunion short and send you to dottore," pierro spoke with a caring undertone as he lifted you from the couch and brought you to dottore's laboratory.

the door opened and dottore smiled as he took you in his arms, and laid you on his table. "thank you, pierro," dottore said before shutting the door.

"your majesty," dottore circled the table, his hand running across the wounds on your body, "have you ever considered that you could die?"

you shook your head, "it's impossible."

"now is it? perhaps when you were an archon, but now you're just a human, you're just like me... do you truly think it's impossible?"

"please, dottore. don't try, please just fix my injuries," you begged and dottore nodded, "of course, I'll help you, your majesty."

...

dottore is a liar!

a completely untrustworthy man, why do you even trust him at times? your frustration seemed to only get stronger as you acknowledged that you were once again in your room.

the window has been fixed and now there are bars over the window. your room has been cleaned, everything was back to normal.

except for your body.

some 'temporary' changes were made, due to dottore's experiment. firstly, you could not die, which caused dottore much joy, secondly, he temporarily paralyzed you with some odd plant from sumaru.

he said it was just a precaution.

but all it really is is cruel.

columbina and sandrone are by your side, of course, they usually always are and you've never had a problem with it, but on this day, you do have a problem with it.

you don't want to be touched, bothered, or sung to, but what could you do?

sandrone was gentle as she touched you, she was even somewhat hesitant to touch you, "I am truly sorry, your majesty. I'm sorry that we made you want to run away," sandrone whispered and placed a small kiss against your cheek.

columbina sang to you, her hand holding onto yours but after a few minutes when she saw that you were still crying. her singing usually brought your tears to a stop.

but not this time so she stopped singing, as she realized; a song wouldn't soothe the ache in your heart.

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mistymem0ryy · 10 months

Text

Yandere Arlecchino x Ballerina Reader

‘Oh who is She’

Summary: As a ballerina in Fontaine’s most prestigious dancing Academy you have lived your life with the intent to serve the arts and being able to provide to your family a next meal. Life in the Opera house flows with the same old mundanity until the growing number of Fatui agents within the country alongside the death of one of your coworkers begins to solidify the already running distaste for the Shneznayan ‘diplomatic’ lackeys. Your opinion about them is as unsavory as the next guy, that is until you meet one of the grand patrons of the Theatre, Arlechinno, whose interest in you and your talent grows concerningly more fierce with every passing performance.

Author’s Notes >>> at the end of the post! please check it out for some clarifications!

Warnings: discussions of pr0stituti0n and the unsavory sides of performance arts, mentions of murder and your common yandere sketchiness

No beta we die like any teenage girl with Slavic ballet teachers

I. A misty memory

The memory of the Genesis of your own downfall has never faded completely from your straying recollections. It possesses a freshness that stings and contorts. It is partially hidden by a cape of fog, a mist deep enough to make you look twice and yet, within its frailty, to provide you with a rough silhouette of that which now inhabits the realms of the unconscious.

Sometimes you wonder if its repression won’t be for the better. You have, for the first time in your life, genuinely reached the understanding that ignorance is truly bliss.

If you had known that a single glance could have harbored the power to throw you into the scorching depths of hell, you would have blinded yourself by the age of 9.

If you had known that the only way out of such an inferno would be through the merciless mountain of purgatory, you would have preferred for your limbs to be frozen whole alongside that six-eyed beast. Perhaps his flowing tears would have purged you of whatever sin you unknowingly committed in order to be cursed with such a fate.

She says she serves a God in her doings. You fear she has mistaken the voice of her unsightly desires for that of divinity.

But perhaps that must be the forbidden truth stuck within our suffocating throats—that our most grotesque and hideous desires are but a reflection of the Gods.

You were wearing black that day, a colour not unknown to your wardrobe, yet it was worn with a completely different intent, if memory serves you right. A girl around your age, red-haired with a blemish under her right eye. You had previously exchanged some vague pleasantries when alone behind the velvet curtains that could rival the tint of her reddening cheeks; she had once gifted you an arrangement of lavenders as a congratulation to your promotion into one of the highest grades within L’Academie and even went as far as to write one of your favourite poems upon the accompanying card attached to their freshly cut stems.

She had a name; you are sure of it, but for some reason you cannot bring yourself to recollect it now, the girl’s body had been found bloody and mud covered in a soiled ditch on Fontaine’s southern border exactly three days before you formally met Her.

She had been charming; even a blind fool would have been hypnotized by Her enticing aura. And you had been exactly that—an ignorant and mindless fool.

It wasn’t the first time she had visited the theater; you try your best to blur the faces of the audience into an unrecognizable blob of flesh during performances, but hers was too marking to dismiss. Her gaze scrutinized each minute move of your flowing limbs, there was a certain hunger behind her eyes that made tremors consume the entirety of your body every time you set foot upon that regal stage.

It was as if you were 8 again and praying that the examiners for the exact prestigious company you now work for took pity upon yourself and did not slander your hard work with a crude rejection.

For the first few performances you presumed her attention was, in the least, wandering through your dancing colleagues too, the recurring meetings between your eyes and hers perhaps purely coincidental. That was until your first solo was presented.

You have been witness to hunger and yearning countless times, having even seen them invading and ravaging the souls of those near and afar from you, the prologue of such fervorous and ardent emotions, always far away from being sweet and clean. Like all things should strive to be.

To mistake whatever plundered her mind for ‘hunger’ or ‘yearning’ would be a bland fool’s mistake, you had unwisely mistaken a building famine for a theater’s infatuation, and that was the first of the many errors you would commit along the line.

Deep within yourself, you knew that at some point between this game of cat and mouse the Opera house ceased from being a place for the upper echelons of society to converse and demonstrate their riches while underpaid artists feebly hoped for recognition of their labors, and it began to belong solely to the two of you.

The stage had become your own dissection table, and you did not know if it was pleasure or terror you derived from her dissecting gaze.

Perhaps your first solo had been the nail upon the coffin. You had refused to look towards her for the entirety of the arduous choreography, depicting the history of Chloé as she is taken unwillingly by pirates, eventually saved before the ravaging, thanking Pan for his graciousness, and once again reuniting with her lover.

Your eyes were directed towards hers only once the music ceased with a harmonious and thundering ending. You watched as, from within the silent public, her gloved hands came together and the first clap clamored through the walls, you felt a weird sense of pride and fear as she got up from her seat inside the private box, all while applauding your performance with an elegant smirk adorning her features, the rest of the audience followed suit, collectively getting up from their seats and filling the Opera house with the sound of resounding applause.

You always felt this clamoring sting upon your scapulae every time your gazes happened to cross; their meeting as quick as their departure, or so you liked to believe.

Even after the closing of the curtains, when the only sound that met your ears was that of ragged breaths and squeaking wood, when the only smell that filled your senses was that of a mixture of human flesh and whatever toxic atrocity held your hair in place, even then you could still feel remnants of her stare covering your body, as if becoming a second layer of skin with every passing performance.

You knew she was Fatui from the beginning; after all, the servants of the so-called Tsaritsa didn’t exactly hide their duties or loyalties, be it by manner of speech or that of dressing. They had good money, though. You knew it. The rest of the dancers knew it. The directors and associates knew it. And sometimes you had to turn a deaf ear to hushed whispers about people mysteriously disappearing in the night without a single trace to be found. Sometimes you had to kill your morals if you wanted your next meal to be within an evening and not within 3 days.

The jeweled and fur-adorned audience could be drowning themselves in luxury and splendour, but the little dolls they so merrily applauded at the end of two continuous hours of Tchaikovsky couldn’t be more far away from such a blissful existence. It had been common for some spectators from the upper balconies to take an interest in certain ballerinas; with time, this commonality became a tradition and eventually a business in its own right. But to discuss it in such a manner would have been blasphemous within the highly adorned walls of the prestigious Theatre, some called it pr0stituti0n, the directors called it keeping their loyal patrons satisfied.

After yet another performance based on local folklore that the rich over-intellectualise in order to differentiate themselves from the common folk, you and your companions sluggishly returned to the poorly lit room where your belongings and whatever remnants of your honour were housed. You were all substituting the attire of Tyrian purple silk with formal dress in the colour of grief. The entire theater was in mourning, or at least that was the image the directors wished to convey.

The death of your fellow ballerina had caused quite the stir within Fontaine’s journals; the cause of the death of this poor girl was being discussed by intellectuals in fancy cafés and by drunks in dirty taverns, and yet you knew there was no real mourning behind it all. Her corpse was their quirky theme for the weekend chatter; a life had been lost, and her memory too would vanish from public memory within a week or two. The headline writers pointing to a possible murder would die out with time and enough pocket money on the directors’ part. Perhaps this was your first direct contact with the fragility and lingering nature of the human experience—to be forgotten, you presumed, was but a logical step in the grander scheme of things.

Some hours before it all went astray, you and other members of the Theatre’s staff had decided to visit a nearby cathedral before beginning the preparations for the performance destined to take place that same day. You had cleansed yourself before entering, scraped your knees upon the humidity of the wooden floor, and even lit your votive candle in front of the mosaic depicting the Hydro Archon.

You selfishly wanted to pray for the health of your family, perhaps even for a better salary, and yet you found yourself solely asking why—what greater good could the death of such a simple and honest girl have brought into this world? Was there a greater meaning behind her early departure? Did she at least have the grace of a painless death? Wherever she is now, is she happy?

The silence you received from the other side was deafening, like slaughter.

You could feel the intensity of an unknown gaze upon the left side of your face. You refused to even cower in its direction, to whomever that glance belonged to, it was most probably of no God that could fulfill your wishes.

You still remember how your knees ached as you gathered yourself from a praying position. How you had bid a good day to the priest upon your hurried leave.

How you had petted the church’s cat that sluggishly showed you his black furred belly as you passed by his way.

How you had offered whatever lingering candy you still gathered inside the pockets of your ageing trench coat to some street kids that always went to you for their sweet tooth (the little rascals).

The commute towards the curving golden gates that encircled the greenery belonging to the theater was too mundane to serve as a presage. The Archons had sent you no omens, no foreboding whatsoever. The birds chirped away the same conjunction of clashing tunes, the melody of human society waking up from its slumber and beginning its unceasing movement was the same you had experienced on a loop for years.

Would you have entered the theatre’s doors if you had known what awaited you at the end of the day? Would you have been able to escape your future if only you had thought twice after the performance, after lingering gazes filled with want and something more?

Perhaps yes, perhaps no. There really is no use in pondering such things now, but you cannot deny that they do serve as interesting thought experiments to pass the time with.

No matter how many times you attempt to recollect the happenings of that day, they always re-emerge from whatever mental corner you’ve confined them in different forms, different silhouettes, different essences. Your memory has slowly lost the trust you had once graced it with, but no matter how many times you repeat that forsaken day in your diminishing mind, there is one thing that always resists change, one single constant within the writing of your doom.

The altar had smelled of chrysanthemums and lavender.

Author’s note: This will be a series of approximately 5 parts, some from Arlechino’s perspective and others structured as reminiscences such as the one just presented. Since Fontaine is still not out, the characterization of Arlecchino could with the coming of new information and lore become erroneous so I feel as if it is my duty to inform you that I am molding her personality based off of the new trailer and imbuing her with certain characteristics of fictional characters I personally think would be similar to her!

#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #fatui #fatui harbingers #fatui harbingers x reader #Genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fontaine #fanfic #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #genshin imagines

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