otomeluvr

[otomeluvr]

HE NOTICES YOU'VE FALLEN OUT OF LOVE WITH HIM.

FANDOM. cupid parasite INCLUDES. gill lovecraft GENRE. some sort of angst. WARNINGS. personal interp of characters & (1) toxic relationship NOTES. finally my first piece of writing that isn't piofiore. like most things on this blog, this is pure personal indulgence. nobody was asking for this. this is all of my own volition for some inexplicable reason. granted, that is indeed the purpose of a hobby blog. this is all just for funsies. if you're interested in me writing for some other titles, you can always ask if i know a certain otome game. maybe one day i'll make a list of games i've played. criticism and feedback is welcome! as always on this blog: reader is gn, and this is not proofread. MINORS DNI.

GILL LOVECRAFT

a sickly saccharine, sentimental melody floated in the void beside him. his forehead rested against his steering wheel as the tune carried on despite not captivating its audience of gill lovecraft. in the late hours of the night, nary a star twinkled, leaving him to be the singular soul in the parking lot, car running in the pitch black. it was rather commonplace for gill to be the straggler not only in the office but in every facet of his life. all these late nights at the office— had they contributed to your distance from him?

the pinch of oncoming tears caused his adam's apple to bob, thickly swallowing the pathetic outburst that threatened to manifest. gill had been agonizing in the parking lot for nearly thirty minutes, and he was now closer to clocking in for his next shift than he was to when he should've originally called it quits all those hours ago. there wasn't much of a home to return to. the two of you were untethered souls meandering through the same plane of existence. all his late nights at work were a scapegoat he realized, so he wept.

gill knew he had a propensity for being overbearing, for being suffocating. he had a past of endearing himself to others by obsessively appraising their needs and delivering upon aforementioned needs. often, it was keenly seen to be a compulsive behavior, an extremely excessive gesture of love. while it was certainly by nature, gill nurtured an intense sense of patience predicated on the fact that one day the target of his affections would come to accept all of his labor. it wasn't as though gill wanted to be thanked, but he wanted his love to be noticed.

these days, though, he had thought himself to be rather reformed. he had believed he was completely understood by you, and he had mellowed out significantly once you had encouraged him to seek a higher form of independence. such an old dog learning a new trick!— gill had never known such self-preservation before now, as he would've gladly pledged his life to you. through his tears, he almost laughed at how he had previously believed himself to lack selfishness. what an oversight. somehow, as you drew your intimacy away from him, he realized that such a selfishness was his fatal flaw. if it wasn't his prior obsession, now it was this fruitless bearing of a relationship stuck in time.

your look was always distant whenever he verbalized wishes to consider a future with you; a future that involved a home, children, a dog, maybe even some obnoxiously modern home in the suburbs. even short term planning ahead seemed to leave a bitter taste in your mouth as you politely deflected any interest in going out for dinners, to car shows, or even on your usual movie dates. even upon his prompt, you never betrayed what you were thinking, where you felt your time was better spent. but you were firm in your belief it was better spent not being attributed to gill, as you avoided even his physical affections as best as you could.

his phone lit up in the seat beside him: a message from you saying you would be at work a little longer than expected. gill had learned you were now trying to outlast him. you only came home now when you were certain he would be close to sleep, some flimsy excuse prepared as you slid into bed beside him as he drifted off. the apartment was empty by the time he woke for work the following day. gill couldn't even remember your weekends together. days just fell off the calendar with no meaning. it was november now, and you couldn't commit to any annual holiday plans between your family and his.

gill finally raised his head. he wiped his eyes. he threw his car into reverse and started in the direction of the apartment the two of you shared. stubbornly, gill elected to ignore all that he had learned since meeting you. he had spiraled into old habits within two lines in a parkling lot. gill didn't need you to love him back, he never did. so long as he got to love you wholly, so long as you knew it, and you knew no escape along with it. gill would wait as long as it took for you to push him away, to declare you've fallen out of love.

[otomeluvr]

HE'S A VAMPIRE.

FANDOM. piofiore no banshou INCLUDES. nicola francesca GENRE. mild angst to serious angst? my angst scale is broken, guys. it's au. canon divergent hella. WARNINGS. the bad and stupid imaginings of someone with a pedestrian knowledge of vampires; personal interp of characters; toxic lovers (duh it's piofiore); mentions of mortality, death, and coming back to life; mentions of illness; mentions of religion NOTES. happy october. i like vampires. i like piofiore. i think the two should mix. this is not proofread. if you want to see more of this sort of theme applied to other characters, just let me know! i officially have my copy of the piofiore sequel and am hoping for those creative juices to start flowing as i play! i sincerely apologize for the lapse in posts. i'm mostly preoccupied with work offline. as always, reader is gn. criticism and feeback welcome! MINORS DNI.

NICOLA FRANCESCA

it was unholy how feckless he was. nothing but a gutless, pusillanimous abomination. you observed how effortlessly he repudiated his own capacity for cowardice, weaving some grandiose mythos to obscure the truth; however, you were now quite wise to the fact that nicola francesca was simply pacifying his own sense of guilt.

when your lip curled from resentment, when you sharply recoiled from his gentle touch— his trembling lips composed pure poetry, quite literally immortalizing his gesture of love, forevermore reminding you that he couldn't endure eternity without you. nicola had salvaged your disease ridden body. as you laid on the threshold of death, he impaled two fangs into your jugular. the scant life force that had quivered in your waning vessel was now thrumming somewhere in him, and you were now a pair of living dead companions.

so now, to find nicola always on his knees, beseeching your forgiveness as if you were some deity— it was quite rich with irony. language limited your ability to demonstrate just how you loathed nicola for so selfishly thwarting fate. you had never achieved your peace, your rest. you had now outlived your loved ones. you were bound to nicola by marriage, and there would be no true death to part you. you were with nicola by principle and perhaps out of spite... certainly out of spite.

"this was all for you." your grip on his jaw was as unforgiving as your tone. his glacial tears doused your flesh. why couldn't he just let you go? why couldn't he just let you die? you knew that nicola was prone to turn a blind eye to his own craven nature, and disgust twisted in your gut as his tremoring lips parted. "'until death do us part.'" despite nicola's tearful expression, he seized your shoulders with indomitable force. he would never let you go. not now, not ever. even your seething, hateful touch was something he sought these days since you could only find the resolve to interact with him when you needed to place blame. "'in sickness and in health!'" you shouted. this existence was a punishment, nothing short of absolute torment. as you were doomed to infinite, unending time, you had come to reconcile your past of illness. the sickness that had ailed you was far more natural that how the two of you were living now. nicola had gone against your wishes. you were content with death, had made peace with its arrival long before him. "i vowed to love you for all of my days." nicola allowed the two of you to lapse into silence. his face was now steeled, sorrowful tears ghoulishly falling down a stoic face. never before had nicola ever spoken with such confidence in his decision. in fact, he had spent the better half of a century having you console him, assure him that you would not come to despise him. now that your resentment had reared its ugly head, nicola, too, slowly came to accept something: that this was all will of a husband loving his wife. "my days know no end, and neither will we."

[otomeluvr]

Thank you for responding to my piofiore jealousy request! I love your style with the overview and the drabble. It was also such a clever take to make the love interests jealous of each other.

thank you for requesting! i really appreciate the kind words. ♡

i'm not quite sure how large the piofiore fandom is, especially on tumblr, but i'll try to contribute to it when i can find the time.

[otomeluvr]

req: piofiore protagonists, jealousy

done! you can find it here.

[otomeluvr]

WHEN HE'S JEALOUS.

FANDOM. piofiore no banshou INCLUDES. dante, gil, nicola, orlok, yang + secret route GENRE. angst at worst, mild angst at best WARNINGS. spoilers for piofiore secret route; personal interp of characters; mentions of violence, manipulation, and toxic lovers; this is so unnecssarily long omg sorry to y'all that make it to the end NOTES. who's ready for piofiore 1926 in september? i preordered the special edition ages ago. i finally have a few free days to take a crack at this request from anon. not proofread because i cringe when reading my writing. reader is gn. reader is not liliana adornato. another opportunity to say: these are my personal interpretations of the characters, likely not representative of their canon portrayals. sorry to orlok stans. i'm trying to get a better grip on writing him, so send in constructive criticism if you have any! also, it is toxic lovers abound below the cut. what did you expect? it's piofiore. MINORS DNI.

DANTE FALZONE

every instance that gilbert redford sauntered into the room, dante falzone felt all of his progress come to a grinding halt; acutely aware that he must endure gilbert's voracious peacocking. far be it from dante to participate in some gaudy display. that flashy persona often appeared performative, tasteless even. dante felt that you were deserving of a far more respectable, virtuous brand of courting as opposed to romance founded on flimsy materialism and dime a dozen sweet nothings. he couldn't help but sulk as he observed gilbert bend your ear, effortlessly whispering to you as his body hovered close, occluding anyone's path to you. there was a twinkle in his one eye that suggested that he was schemeing, as always, though you giggled nonetheless at the flow of his words, eliciting an eye roll from dante. he was too good for this. you were too good for this. the strike of jealousy was enough to lurch him into a winding confession.

dante settled himself into the gilbert shaped hole beside you, cognizant that the visconti could return any moment. the humanity in dante could sympathize with that damned reluctance that gilbert looked at you with, as he had to apologetically part with you to momentarily tend to some business. naturally, dante was left to wonder if it was the act of an honorless man to swoop in like this; however, the moral coil that tightened in his stomach was pacified when remembering that it was rather gilbert that was lacking the honor. "the way that he plays with you is nothing other than a charade." he had quite the knack for approaching conversation with a blunt edge despite valuing etiquette so ardently. it was typically due to the fact that dante had an equal knack for brooding, and therefore, built entire arguments and counterarguments in his head. by the time that he acquired the wherewithal to verbalize them, he was perhaps overzealous in his delivery. "i had resigned myself to observing from afar. after all, it's within your right to accept gilbert's advances..." dante felt his lips quirk downwards at such a honest remark. for all its genuine nature, he could still hear an echo of yang's mocking appraisal of the words, how it was suffocatingly noble. "i thought myself to be well above deigning to such a crude show of affection, but as i watched gilbert's persistence, i couldn't help but feel it's no way to treat you. teasing you for a reaction just for some cheap self-satisfaction. it is certainly beneath true men to string people along in the name of love. of course, i'm not necessarily above the urge to pursue as a man myself..." dante felt himself getting flustered, finding the end of his thoughts, having not constructed a sound appeal beyond a critique of gilbert. "i'm sorry!" he blurted out, the rare appearance of blush dusting across the expanse of his cheeks. the two of you sat in silence for a moment as dante scrambled to recover, ultimately heaving a defeated sigh. "look, what i'm trying to say is that i love—" "and i thought there was no honor among thieves," gilbert purred as he knowingly interrupted. "what a moving confession, falzone."

GILBERT REFORD.

he was never oblivious to the gravity to envy that he inspired in others. in fact, it only served to keep him tethered to the earth. it incited no inflation of his ego, and only served as ample reason to pursue the shared object of affection with more concerted efforts. the suitors that manged to keep up with gilbert redford often discovered that while he was ostentatious at the surface, there was no real competition to his genuine desire to offer reprieve for a lover's soul. most misjudged him as wolfish when in actuality, a protector more devoted than gil was few and far between. while he eagerly rose to petty competitions of flirting— seldom above the urge to grandstand— he always knew the playing field was skewed in his favor, and so, ultimately held no reservations.

that was until nicola francesca entered the fray. for all that gil worked to build with you, somehow nicola managed to construct something of equal value. gil wasn't exactly known for his stunning ability to perceive depth anymore, though it was apparent to him that nicola's promises were about as deep as a demitasse glass. strangely, though, as their interests aligned over you, gil began to sense that while nicola was putting on a hollow act, it was more akin to a trap door than anything else. there was a deep, dark pit in nicola that seeked to envelop you, and that friendly behavior was nothing other than the web to ensare you in. it was this realization that caused petty jealousy to evolve into something more.

"say whatever you want." nicola's tone was even and unbothered, matching the way he nonchalantly smoothed out his stylish tie. "you'll never understand how close we are, gilbert." there was a pattern to how nicola francesca operated. he was so preoccupied with appearances, with semantics, with maintaining a facade. the manicured perception that he was funneling his efforts into was all motivated by not necessarily making himself look good but more so by making gil look bad. this was pure provocation. gil knew that this was a matter of delicacy despite the urge to display a strong front. once before he had overstated his love for you was obsession; however, upon seeing nicola's feelings for you manifest, gil was now quite aware of what true obsession was. with intentional tenderness, his fingers encircled your wrist, drawing you closer to him, feeling that you would be much safer in his orbit. perhaps a more rational side of gil would be able to realize that nicola would never cause you physical harm, but gil was starting to have less faith in nicola's own sense of rationality. it was ultimately why gil finally allowed himself to critique your relationship with nicola, playing up a level of jealousy. "do you think it's polite to tug on someone like that?" nicola hummed, the strands that comprised his rope of composure beginning to feel the friction. "you're putting the cart before the horse if you think they feel the same as you. you hardly asked." of course, it was all the illusion of choice with nicola, phrasing it as if it were really in your control to part with him per gil's heeding. "just say the word. i'll let go." gil swept you up in his arms once nicola offered no physical resistence. he went so far as to lift you somewhat off the ground, his eye squeezing shut as he savored the embrace. considering the standing of your relationship, it was quite bold, though he knew that just this once he would have to stoop to nicola's level as means of protecting you from his parasitic nature. gil would have to feed into this persona that nicola had fostered and pretend as though this really was nothing other than a love triangle. in actuality, it was gil being the buffer from nicola monopolizing you. to combat nicola's fixation with the whims of a jealous man felt depraved. nevertheless, gil would momentarily allow you to live in the belief that this was as simple as it was, aware that your trust in nicola could easily eclipse your trust in him. "i can't help but beg for forgiveness. i've allowed what's between us to be so selfishly drawn out, and now, you've had nicola francesca of all people flock to you. can you find it in yourself to forgive me? to grant this selfish man another one of his desires to finally love you as you should be loved? i couldn't stand the thought of you bearing your soul to another." later that night, gil went so far as to call nicola, tucked away in the privacy of his office as you slept in gil's bed. "pretending to be someone you're not," he chided. "francesca, you're the man people think i am. you trap people in this false sense of security with your charming smile and empty promises. what would you do when they found out who you really were? i suppose it wouldn't matter if your trap was effective. no amount of protest would be enough for you." while nicola failed to respond, gil could tell in the silence that lapsed that he was still present by the sound of breathing. "chivalry is your thinly veiled perversion. don't think you can fool anyone any longer. i'm putting an end to it."

NICOLA FRANCESCA.

never before would nicola francesca ever view orlok as a threat. orlok was a mere boy by comparison, completely out of his depth in romantic pursuits. if anything, nicola had utilized orlok's pining for you to his own personal benefit, and he lulled himself into a sense of security in knowing that orlok was around to protect you when nicola couldn't be. this depreciation of orlok's presence as a man was the catalyst of nicola's downward spiral into jealousy. by equal measure, it was also your tender heart, your willingness to keen to orlok's attention. there was a dizzying argument that eroded nicola's sensibilities as he oscillated between blaming himself and blaming the two of you. if he was so calculated, how was this his fault? but if he failed to comprehend a threat, how could this be your fault? the weight of the blame was so burdensome, and nicola needed somewhere to heave it. so he— figuratively— bashed orlok over the head with it. of course, he couldn't allow you to be privy to the territorial demonstration, as he knew it would disrupt your refined image of him. he knew that once you all reunited, though, as you always did, he would yet again confront orlok as if it were the first time. nicola's jealousy was driving him to pull more strings, to conceal his true nature further, as he knew that he was losing his grip on the situation and sought more purchase on his past control.

"i've never complained about how close you two were." orlok had his own personal reservations about nicola francesca, though he never allowed them to overshadow the time he spent with you, for the arrangement was all symbiotic. until now. orlok's face remained impassive as he stared at nicola, both of their figures shrouded in darkness, bookended by two buildings as they coalesced in a dingy alleyway. "but you've wanted to, haven't you?" nicola interrogated, words slightly affected by the cigarette perched between his lips. he brought a lighter up to ignite the stick. it was all to perpetuate a sense of equanimity, of course. orlok gave a slow blink, shrewdly reading nicola's movement as that of a predator lying in wait. did nicola realize he was yet again underestimating orlok? orlok was left to wonder. "should i?" he rebutted. nicola pocketed the lighter, the smolder of the cigarette illuminating his face just enough for orlok to catch a glimpse of the unhinged disquiet that was stirring behind nicola's eyes. "do you honestly believe posing that question alleviates the burden of your naivety?" he took a long drag on his cigarette. "you're still a helpless boy, orlok, trying to be a valiant man. why don't you do them a favor and save them from—" "you," orlok interrupted. "you." nicola tapped the ash off his cigarette, shrugging casually despite how his hands shook with righteous anger as he did so. "they'll only suffer if you continue to be a man that you're not. they're just looking out for you. don't make this something that it's not. i know we both care about them, but... it's not fair for you to keep them to yourself." for a moment, orlok doubted himself. was he truly just a child to be entertained, to be fawned over? his deepest insecurity was preyed upon, a feast for italy's most venomous predator, and he visibly faltered under nicola's heavy gaze. "i won't back down so easily. i'll do anything to prove myself." orlok knew nicola was just playing with his mind, making him believe anything but reality. "and i'll do anything to protect them from the real threat: you." whatever they had going before was ultimately destroyed by nicola. while orlok would never deny the knowledge that they were both pursuing you, he would've never let it come to this. nicola knew that competition with him was nothign but disasterous, and he would be the first to admit it. if only someone had been there to intervene for the sake of both of them, yet nicola knew he had isolated them for that purpose alone. he didn't want to be moralized at from beneath some ivory tower. this seclusion was the one thing that protected both him and you. he would never forfeit it. "do your worst. the world will move on without you. they may want you, but they need me."

ORLOK.

he knew this was a fine line. you were so receptive to yang's physicality that it was obvious there was enough of a reason to be envious. it wasn't mere jealousy. it was a deadly sin on the basis that orlok felt he had you, and that yang was the threat to that. it wasn't so much possession as it was a tortured, strangled response to the thought of losing you. surely, there was nothing official between you and orlok, which was ultimately why he refrained from supplying commentary on your relationship with yang. it had been an arduous, winding path the three of you traversed, and before you had set out on this tumultuous journey, yang and orlok had opposed each other unbeknownst to you. the conversation was one that orlok reminisced on nightly, prayed upon for forgiveness as he nearly dedicated himself to inevitable revenge.

"i won't let you get away with anything. there's nowhere you can hide now." yang paused at the door, feeling the eyes of two paranoid men on him: the direttore and orlok. the direttore sashayed ahead of the exiting mafia men, guiding them throughout the bustling casino, and when he felt that there were those predisposed to dawdling, his eyes searched for them. meanwhile, orlok was behind yang, lingering at the circumference of the table they had just met at. apparently, it mattered little that the direttore was observing this, and the audience was enough to make yang smile in response, barely glancing over his shoulder to regard orlok. "you're anger is rich considering you have no ownership over them. where i lay my claim should matter little to you, especially if they are as... willing as they are." "they're not some freehold of yours, yang. you can't claim them when you see fit only to dispose of them. you treat people as if they're expendable. they're not!" orlok cried. yang theatrically rolled his eyes. "if i were 'courting' them in earnest, then you would hold me in esteem?" when orlok opened his mouth to deny it, yang steamrolled him: "of course not. this isn't just a matter of trust, is it?" "you're dangerous. that's what i know." orlok rounded the table, finally coming to stand his ground against his opponent. several months later and yang felt orlok thwarting his attempts to entice you. initially, it had been a grand source of fun, forcing orlok to bend over backwards to the point of exhaustion all while yang got all the attention he so craved. but the dividens were beginning to taper off, as it wasn't as if this was exactly an investment. it appeared that orlok was becoming adept at shielding you, and it made yang grimace as you stood at his doorstep with orlok working you into a complete trance. his chosen strategy was distraction until yang did something drastic. "i'm sorry i kept you so late," orlok murmured, fingers smoothing over your hair in a loving caress. it was an emboldened action that he had undoubtedly learned elsewhere. yang knew that orlok was pulling out all the arrows in his quiver here, learning the exact ways to overshadow yang's sex appeal. this was affection that yang insofar never thought to impart upon you. yang's eyes narrowed as he watched it melt you, the two of you standing chest to chest, eyes searching each other as if he weren't at the door to witness all of it. yang thought there was some barrier to entry due to what he thought to be orlok's emotional shortcomings, but every time the two of them were underneath a doorframe, orlok seemed to contest him just fine.

YANG.

yang was absolutely sour. what was this? love? he had made his share of derisive "analysis" of the relationship that you had with henri, all of which he felt particularly entitled to sharing considering that you and him had been a somewhat reoccuring affair. from what yang had come to understand about you, henri was not a man that was meant for you. perhaps, he was viewing it in a cosmic sense, a fleeting thought as he observed the stars, and one that he snuffed out once he crawled into bed that same night. was there any reason to concern himself with what type of man suited you? certainly not. it benefited him little, whether he was with you or without you, for he acted precisely as he wanted regardless. there were a few times wherein yang had catered to you out of his own desire to do so, but he thought of them little, wanting to avoid that curious expression he remembered you having. he knew you wondered what the ulterior motive was when there wasn't one for once. the fact that you didn't look at henri with that same suspicion... it was rather annoying. henri lambert, of all people, was beyond that speculation? that was laughable. so yang lashed out.

"what was the phrase you used? they were good for 'killing time'? if you're going out of your way to confront me, it must have been important, yang." henri stood with a basket at his feet, pulling linens off the line to fold them. "this is a transparent display. you even came to me." he held up the laundry in his hand to punctuate that point. "riton," yang began, lapping up at the way that henri froze upon hearing that name. he drew out every single syllable, elongating it enough to allow it to lure henri into the memories of his past. yang knew he wasn't the only one in italy to regard henri with doubt, and it was thanks to nicola francesca that yang knew how to disarm this particular opponent. "ah... so..." his drawl was taunting, broadened as if this were a matter of observation than calculation. "the weight of your name is one you have not been relieved of? if that's where all of your troubles start, do you truly have any hopes of solving them? they speak so highly of your healing, when really—" "henri?" you called for him from the back porch, hand shielding your eyes from the sun that shone down on you. it was then that you saw yang, which inspired haste in you. you barreled down the side of the hill, coming to henri's side as quickly as your feet would take you. "what are you doing here?" it was then that yang watched as you pulled henri to you, holding onto his arm as if you were any measure of protection. that gesture was enough for him to recall his musing to the stars, one that he had previously thought to have extinguished as nothing other than an errant flame. now, it combusted within him. perhaps all that healing you spoke of wasn't delusion, and the way that henri responded in kind to your touch only solidified that. henri was no longer brushing you off, brooding over whether or not he deserved you, a prisoner to his own trauma. at least in the view of this. yang thought all you needed was touch, a corporal sense of desire. what was more potent than that? touch that superseded love, that could be as easy as the two of you had made it. apparently yang had been alone in that regard. "this is what became of you." yang's jaw clenched. "domesticity doesn't look good on you." "you don't have to look much longer. we're leaving italy." that night, with someone else warming his bed, yang toiled over whether or not he would continue to lash out. he was embittered by henri's realization that this was a matter of importance to him, and so, yang tried to manipulate why this was a matter of importance. a blow to his pride, surely that could be it. even as you came and went in his life, he knew the cycle the two of you engaged in meant you'd always be back. now you wouldn't be. perhaps... he would endeavor to keep you here then. yang leapt from bed and readied himself. his weapon called for him, and he rose to the occasion. yang loathed peace, and he wouldn't allow you, henri, or himself to have it.

SECRET ROUTE.

to watch dante falzone and nicola francesca overindulge you was a special hell all for henri lambert. they doted on you endlessly, each with their own individual flair for intimacy. dante was so engrossed with protecting your way of life that he considered you to an almost unfavorable degree. he drove all untoward behavior far away from you, so much so that it was far more rare to see you together; however, the lengths he went to as to secure a comfortable life for you were apparent. it was more likely to see you with nicola francesca, enriching your life with his company as you engaged in leisurely pursuits. most that crossed paths with you were under the impression that you were lovers, playful laughs and practiced touches of intimacy being exchanged. whenever the two of you sat yourselves at that outdoor cafe you frequented, the two of you dragged your chairs closer in unision, leaning in to shared hushed conversation and pointing your bodies at each other as if you were each other's true north.

in the presence of dante, it was somehow much more subtle yet all the more obvious. the glances were tender, the touches were fleeting, both of you had pink cheeks. there was a sense of devotion, and though you both had a propensity to delicately dance around whatever it was the two of you felt, the awkwardness that arose was so genuine. henri could see your eyes soften each time dante dug himself a hole while speaking, stuttering as he tried to cover his tracks only to ultimately confess his true thoughts. you adored him. it wasn't just about what he gave you.

these were people that henri considered to be his mortal enemies. or were. henri couldn't make sense of it, though he tried. initially, his view was clouded by the fact that they were preying upon your virtue, that they were siphoning every ounce of honesty and love right out of you. there interest in you was founded on their perverse desire to corrupt you. but now henri couldn't be so sure, and he questioned his reality and how to proceed with you. with mounting clarity, henri was able to recognize the feeling as a string of jealousy. when he untangled his path of revenge, he felt himself losing you to them. there was still a lingering darkness in henri that prompted him to manipulate, but when he watched you live in peace, he wanted to live in peace too. at your side. the cause of it. in his jealousy, henri was moved to commit to his change fully, to commit to you.

"i finally have dreams worth dreaming. nightmares terrorize me less and less." henri's lips began to press against your hands, an uncharacteristic and vulnerable pleading from him. the way he touched you was all of his own accord, extending his boundaries to encapsulate you. henri seized your hands in your own, pressing his forehead to your knees. he was on the floor, making his claim to you in utter desperation, as you sat above him, shocked to hear this confession. it wasn't as if the two of you were strangers by any means, but henri had a habit for disappearing from your life without so much as a moment's notice, inclined to do so by no discernable action. you were often left to constantly wonder what exactly you had done to set him off, to drive him away. you mourned him constantly. "they all include you." "henri..." you murmur uncertainly, pulling one hand free to run your hands through his hair. his head was still bent, and your nails came to grace the nape of his neck. it was such a rare show of emotion from henri that were weren't exactly certain how to proceed, so accustomed to walking on eggshells. "i- i... i don't know what to say..." "please allow me to prove my commitment to you." you reeled as though you had been slapped, blinking in succession at such an outcry. he had always been cryptic at worst and hesitant at best. he had effectively batted away all your past affections toward him with his own uncertainty. you pursed your lips with mounting disagreement, and your silence prompted henri to lift his head. "is it because of—" "please don't bering them into this." your tone was stern. henri held his tongue, dejectedly lowering his head back to rest on your knees. "is this beyond repair?" there was a pregnant pause before henri continued, "i spent so long resisting the urge to reciprocate, so conscious of myself and so preoccupied with my own goals that i... convinced myself to abandon any other potential purpose, any seeming distraction." "i know." there was still a part of you that wanted to sink onto your knees and take him in his arms, not so much forgiving him but choosing to live with the past in order for him to be your future. whether he was simply reading you or felt the same, henri offered you this— "run away with me." he was no longer mincing his words, manicuring his intentions, for every time he did so, it only allowed dante and nicola to pick up the pieces. never would henri allow anyone else to love you the way he did, the way he was choosing to with reckless abandon.

[otomeluvr]

WHEN YOU'RE INTERESTED IN SOMEONE ELSE.

FANDOM. piofiore no banshou INCLUDES. dante, gil, nicola, orlok, yang + secret route GENRE. mild angst WARNINGS. spoilers for piofiore secret route, personal interp of characters, mentions of disease and cancer NOTES. first piece of writing on the internet and it's not proofread lol. criticism and feedback welcome. reader is gn. MINORS DNI.

DANTE FALZONE

he resigns himself to immutable culpability, unable to be eroded by the shifting sands of time. his thoughts are consumed by all his missteps, how he should've proceeded when reconciling his feelings for you. dante assumes full responsibility for his inaction, though he's unwilling to explore the nuance of your feelings for someone else— was it truly a matter of words unsaid or was he never a contender altogether? this must be fate, and he believes in its permanence. just as you can never love him, he will never love again. he did this to himself, and so, he must accept the consequences. dante walks a tightrope of detachment... or so he would like to believe. in actuality, the only rope between the two of you is the one you've unknowingly fashioned into a marionette string. he's a helpless puppet, still manipulated by you. while dante denies his interest in you, he's still swayed by each and every of your decisions, miraculously and devotedly showing up whenever you need him. dedicated to you even as you pledge yourself to another. it's sinful for a man of god to idolize another, yet dante worships you as he always has, words of dissent empty.

the scant hours of sleep that he's allotted are spent committing you to memory. he's fearful of your commitment to another, how it could cause a rift between you and him, and that you will be fated to the hollow existence of a memory. dante tosses beneath sheets, each woven fabric burdening his mind, the stitching scratching at him as if the ask the grating question: were his tracks covered?

it was dante's personal mission to ensure that there was no confusion about his feelings towards you, that he had never once thought of the union of the two of you. he would politely soak up whatever information you cared to share about the object of your affection, only to wring it out with despair in private, oscillating between a never ending cycle of why isn't that me? and it's my fault it ended up this way. the only place things are as they once were are in his dreams, but his reality was far too soul crushing to inspire any fantasies.

GILBERT REDFORD

there's no honor in suffering in silence. he resists allowing this development to spiral the three of you into melodrama, refusing to sensationalize his descent into despondency. instead, gil embodies a chivalrous mindsent, asserting that this is certainly a matter of the best man winning. he's not a man to adopt a fatalistic approach to the relationship between the two of you. rather, gil demonstrates his attributes fairly, broadcasts his affections valiantly. never once does he make it about the person you're interested, as all gil's efforts are reserved to build the two of you up rather than tear down whomever has captured your heart. there is somewhat of a high to indulge in during this battle, though gil would resent to have it reduced to some game. he takes the two of you seriously, and if in the end he cannot measure to your standards, gil loses with grace. that's not to say it wouldn't tear him up, but your happiness takes precedent. what kind of man would he be otherwise?

"i'll tell you every chance you give me," gil purred. his lithe fingers encircled your wrist as you turned from him, and he exacted the perfect amount of grace in twirling you back into his chest. your eyesight became an onslaught of pinstripes, mind eased by that warm carmalized scent. "there's nothing i want more than you." slowly, gil's hands found their way to your waist, and when they found no resistence, they continued to traverse. "how shall i prove it today?" it was then that his fingers kneaded the back of your thighs, sinking in and hoisting you into his arms. with your legs secure around his midsection, a cheeky grin blossomed across gil's face. "like i said, i'll tell you how much i want for you at every turn... but what does it really mean if i don't back it up with actions?"

NICOLA FRANCESCA

his yearning for you is suspended in the frozen lake in the cavernous final depth of hell. never would nicola francesca betray such a sentiment before your very eyes. of course, he's liable to tease you when you begin to stray too far outside his reach. nicola has watched you fawn over another for quite some time, and as the days become weeks and the weeks become months, he percolates over the thought of pulling the rug out from beneath the object of your affection. the musing drips through the cracks of his better judgement like some form of torture, and he ultimately capitulates to the need to actualize his attachment to you in the form of sinking his fangs into the one that caught your eye. whatever deeper feelings nicola allows to remain unsaid between the two of you, he allows himself to take out on others, all the while causing whiplash to you. it's an intense game of hot and cold until he intimidates your darling into abandoning whatever was coming to fruition between you. with the satisfaction of your liberation set before him, nicola finally raises his glass to toast his feast: you.

"where's that little bird that used to hang around you?" his voice remained even, unassuming as the two of you fell into simultaneous step. with practiced fluidity, nicola eased the bag you were carrying to his own arms, playing up the angle of nobility he was perceived to harbor. "that's a shame." nicola whistled upon hearing that things were left unresolved between you and them. just for a moment, he allowed his veneer to evanesce and the ghost of malice manifested on his face in the shape of a smile. nicola had made short work of your darling, subtly bullying them into giving you the cold shoulder. never would he so flagrantly threaten the life of an innocent party, but he would not take responsibility for their fears coming to such a conclusion. "what do you say to a cafe au lait to make up for it? it'll be my treat." nicola sank into the shared routine you two shared. he had felt a progressive sense of urgency to rid the obstacle between the two of you, though now that it was eliminated, why not resume that teasing speed until his resolve was finally broken?

ORLOK

he's hyperaware of you, yet lacks the literacy to read your feelings on that person you're always eyeing. orlok just knows it's different. he knows that he's not reflected in your eyes in such a tender manner. what begins with a hunch actualizes before his very eyes. much like dante, orlok is met with the proclamation of your love; however, it's not for him. he's not equipped to process this unrelenting sensation of loss, as he had failed to discern the bleeding gradations of his feelings for you. it stunts his ability to articulate his confusion, and orlok's days are tainted by apprehension. never once does his presence waver, but he finds himself second guessing what it means to do all these things for you when you defer to someone else first now. you rely on him less. is this him fading into irrelevancy? in desperation, orlok seeks the guidance of gil. clarity. that's all he needs. even if it meant his worst fears were unraveling before him.

he observes your hand clasped into another's, mulling over gil's words. it was an unintentional bout of a day late and a dollar short, which he was told implies that there is a lack of time and care put into something. apparently it was no fault of his own, mostly whatever knowledge he lacked. the corner of orlok's lips twitched in latent frustration. he was beginning to feel less of your equal and far more inferior as he obsessed over gil's words. this was inadequacy. and now you knew. you also understood orlok as inadequate. he was too young, too unsocialized, too unaware. the insecurity festered within him like some disease to which he was helpless in finding a cure for. whatever experience orlok required, he only desired to acquired from your active tutelage. instead, he would have to assume the rather passive teachings of gil, gradually learning to sort out the deeper feelings he had for you. orlok was willing to see this through, from a spark to a blaze and, if it so happened, to a snuffed flame. even if it weighed heavy on the two of you, orlok couldn't withstand the unknown. when the two of you were alone, he childishly questioned you: "what do you see me as? a younger brother?" fearing that he would never be a man in your eyes.

YANG

you were just as temporary as all things in life. nothing other than a fleeting pleasure, an ephemeral euphoria. while he mostly regards you with his usual disinterest, there are seemingly random, unprompted outbursts of his chagrin for being left in the dust. yang was possessive. to him, every union was a flag of fealty swaying in the wind, and he expected you to yield to his calling, declaring loyalties when he demanded them. now there were no longer any rendezvous to speak of between the two of you, and he was beginning to resent that perhaps it wasn't you that was a temporary fixture in his life but rather himself a temporary fixture in yours. what complex feelings for someone who wanted to entertain none of it. the thought of you was beginning to metastasize like a cancer. he blames you when he's angry, he disregards you when he can rely on someone else to fill the void in the shape of desire. he knows the mere sight of him lingering around you will scare away your new toy, and so he seeks to spoil all your fun.

"watch them run with their tail between legs." tendrils of smoke unfurled behind your head, distorting the retreating back of your darling. a haze of yang's smoke clouded your vision, though it was whisked away by him emerging into your direct line of sight. "what feeble provocation..." yang drawled, jaw tightening. "you're going to have a lot of making up to do for all this running around you've been doing." yang's hand grasped at the back of your neck, roughly canting your head so you could both make uninhibited eye contact. "it's rather annoying when my possessions grow legs that run with their thoughts. you're not just anyone, you're mine." his face was fearsome, twisted cruelly, before it conjured up images of bloodlust. "don't mistake this for some petty competition... i'll thoroughly dispose of anyone that thinks it is."

SECRET ROUTE

he's much older, and often the adage is with age comes wisdom... though the latter half and often unfinished sentiment is that "sometimes age comes alone." was he a wise man... henri wasn't quite sure anymore. wise men didn't foolishly concoct banal, asinine fantasies that hinged on the flighty young things, ones with brighter futures that expanded far outside his scope of possibility. henri was a man wasted, a man with one purpose, and he usually knew better than to let himself get so distracted. he went weeks without popping back into your life, and he was beginning to question if this lunacy was layered. henri was punishing himself to getting enamored, and he was punishing himself for noticing that in the lapse between being in your life that you had found stability elsewhere. he was tormented by this— whatever this was. henri finds himself keeping tabs on your darling, and he makes his disdain known when he digs up the rather unsavory parts of their life. while he agonizes over dedicating himself to you, he disapproves of whatever you have without so much as offering any solutions. henri is passively driving a wedge between you and them, inciting fear in your mind in hopes that you will decide the choice he's implying is the right one: him.

"you have to make the choice," henri urges. his voice is that usual melancholy drone despite his words phrased as a plea. never mind that he often thought ill of his fascination with you, and never mind that that one virtuous part of him couldn't demand that you picked him. he was contradicting himself at every turn, driven to his wit's end, and yet, you were there at every bend in his meandering thoughts. "i..." henri sighed, running his hand through your hair. he wasn't sure what to say. he'd given you all the details. he just hoped you made the right choice in the end in spite of himself. "it's all about what you want." the way he phrased it was like you wanted something bad, though henri wasn't sure if he was the bad thing or your darling was, even as he campaigned against them.

[otomeluvr]

ABOUT.

maiden / 23 / she&her

otome blog with nsfw, mature themes, and spoilers.

also interested in: josei manga, nintendo games, disco music

MINORS DNI.

Q&A.

favorite otome game?

piofiore no banshou, 7'scarlet, and diabolik lovers.

favorite otome protagonist?

cardia beckford (code: realize) or hibari tojo (variable barricade).

favorite love interests?

ruki mukami (diabolik lovers), yang (piofiore), and gilbert redford (piofiore).

what platforms do you play on?

nintendo switch, ps vita, pc, and mobile.