genshin impact headcanons

columbina blindfolding her s/o

gn reader, yandere, sensory deprivation, reader's concent and circumstances are ambiguous, not proofread

so this is not the best request to come back to after playing the entirety of Dramatical Murder (ノ*°▽°*) oh, it may be horrible, especially with Clear's bad ending still living in my head ( ◡‿◡ *) this does remind me of his bad ending actually, like microdosing it if you're not cool with having poor reader's eyes, arms, and legs removed

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Columbina's 'mask' is more like a lace covering for her eyes, easy to see through at a glance. She is uninhibited, unlike some other Harbingers who you stare at the masks of and wonder how they manage to see as you can't even catch a glimpse of their eyes—unlike the mask you look at that has been tightly woven for you by the hands of the Damselette.

As you expected, you can't see a thing when she fastens it in place, tight around your head, but it doesn't hurt. If anything, there's a...mild discomfort, as if the absence of sight makes you conscious of the fact it's there, pushed by the notion that if you wanted to be able to see again, you should remove it.

When you try to reach back to remove your blindfold, a pair of hands stop you, holding you in place as she commands you to "Leave it, use these disobedient hands you have to feel." ever so gently.

So you are forced to do just that, feel your surroundings helplessly for something to tell you where you are, what's around you. Where is the chair she sat you down on? Where is the drink you had? The bottle she was carrying? Where is the rest of the furniture? And most importantly-- your hand touches something that feels different, warm and pliable in your hand, something that squishes but not completely– is that her?

If only she hadn't giggled you wouldn't know, completely confused by her, but her scent becomes clearer like a bouquet of silk flowers before you, and her breath is close to you, her presence is nearer than you thought. She is watching, and she is enjoying watching you struggle to find your bearings— oh, how adorable you look—arms waving around and stroking at what they find as if that might help you grasp what's there.

A table under your hand lends only a sound you have heard time and time again, the smooth feel of wood, but you recognise that much at least.

You're so helpless, so unable to move when you're too afraid to bump into something. You don't question where her mischievous hands lead you nor what they lead you to do, though your ears catch the noises and your hands the sensations.

There is no question, no fight, only hesitation—a feeling quite easily forgotten—and you are completely at her whim suddenly in a world where you, who once relied so heavily on your sight, is now without it. That feeling of dread, like you will become lost even in a familiar place, is creeping up, but a pair of hands find yours to guide you along whichever way she pleases.