genshin impact headcanons

yandere signora and pantalone

gn reader, implied yandere, mentions of drugging, power imbalance, possibly ooc, proofreading? we don't use that word in this house, bad writing and really ramble-ish tbh 😭

atp I'll do anything just to post so you know I'm not dead and so I can say I actually posted this year. I was going to write about Signora on her own, then about Pantalone on his own and then I remembered commedia dell'arte has them married or something and I was like "this" maybe I'll write something fluffy next time so I don't sit there for ages wondering wtf to words, I finished both posts tho so maybe they'll come next (Pantalone's came before nvm 💀)

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The last people you expect to share a mutual interest are the Fair Lady Signora and the Banker Pantalone, yet you are constantly fussed over, constantly spoiled, constantly dressed up, constantly treasured. You expect them to be rivals for your affection if they want to share you, and yet this agreement of theirs is mutually beneficial to the point they're perfectly content with sharing. The funding for Signora's efforts in dressing you up are provided by Pantalone, allowing her the financial freedom to do anything and everything she wants to you, just so long as she turns around to flaunt the results to the Banker like you're some kind of prize on auction.

It is not uncommon for Signora to fix your hair, somehow manage to find garments that compliment you even without you there, keeping you at least looking happy like you're enjoying this kind of abstract torture. She gets unusually fussy when you don't eat well enough, probably the risk of you looking awkward in some outfits she picked out or maybe just you attempting to starve yourself to escape. She insists you look at it yourself to see, and in those clothes, you could swear she just dressed you in, someone else stares back at you.

Every morning you're served a pill by the Banker and get told to take it, regardless of the fact it makes you drowsy and weak in the knees. That's probably what makes them give it to you, a concoction of drugs that keeps you just unaware enough it's hard to tell where you are or what you're doing, though you can walk and recognise things, you're kept feeling detached from yourself, and just when the feeling wears off by the next morning, you're thrown back in. it feels as if a different person stares back at you in the mirror each time, someone lost and often confused, who smiles when they're told even when you thought you were resisting that.

That person can't be you, can it?

It's not a drastic difference, drearier than you remember. They look like you, you can tell that much. It's just not you somehow. You used to think it was, but slowly it becomes less and less familiar. Your body stops doing the things you want it to do and instead complies to the wants of those two. They want you, and you go, Pantalone wants to treat you like an accessory and perch you in his lap, then you sit. La Signora wants you to sit still and bear the discomfort of what she picks out, and you do that. It's not a question. You just oblige.

You've never liked the way the hands of the banker touch you—like some possession that he owns—neither has Signora. You notice how she glares just a little when he has his hands all over you like a shiny ring of the finest Noctilucous Jade money can buy. Still, neither of them have killed each other yet. You wonder how exactly, but maybe it's just the fact he's abusing your compliance to let him touch you. She certainly doesn't seem to mind as long as she gets to touch you, too, still sitting in his lap and still the centrepiece meant for their enjoyment.

Something to be poked and prodded at and squeezed. Didn't you join the Fatui to fight? When exactly was it that you lost your way and fell into the arms of these two?

At first, you didn't mind, finding it to be harmless gestures, a touch that lasts too long or a stare you notice out of the corner of your eye. More than affection, you'd call it merely an 'interest'. The affection only started when one of them managed to get you working under them as a subordinate. You had to give it to her, Signora is good at getting things she really wants. Apparently, you were one of those things, as she promptly moved you right 'where you belong'—to her side, of course.

You didn't use to mind things that way until you began to notice that Pantalone loitered around her more and more, and you know he didn't use to do that because you caught him with so much free time before. All of the business coming out of the blue when Signora was in such a stagnant point in her work was suspicious to you. You wrote it off with his explanation of a reworking of the finances in her sector taking longer than expected. To someone who had very little involvement in her finances, it made a lot of sense.

Yes, somewhere between then and now, you tripped and fell into this neat little hole they made for you, a honey trap even. You're not sure when or how. All of that time has always been...a little fuzzier than you'd like.

When you looked in the mirror then, you saw your face looking back at you. Now you see some lost little child who barely knows how to keep their head straight. For just a moment, in a rare hour on a lonely morning, you stare into that mirror and begin to see cracks of yourself shining through. Have you always looked so tired? When did you get your hair to look like that? This person is still not you, but it sure does look a lot like you, a worn-down version of you covered in a thick coat of idealisation to mask your weathering and slow spiral further and further into something you cannot identify.

On the very same morning, you wonder if maybe you are still there to stare back at yourself in the mirror, that same pill lands in front of you with a cup of water. You recognise Pantalone's hands, and you know that he can tell from the way you look at him and question his words that you're coming out of your haze. In response, he has to put you right back in. he claims he's never going to force you, though you suspect that to be a lie. This life of luxury he provides you and the affection Signora gives to you will all go away if you don't take it, and in all aspects, that's a good thing.

Why exactly do you keep picking up that cup of water and downing that pill?