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lovesickeros · 5 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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eerna · 7 months

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not done talking about The Tale of the Ronin and the Bride yet. the way it begins making you think that the Ronin's desire for revenge is what is gonna turn him into an army killing machine. Mizu is the Ronin and she is presently killing an army so it makes sense, right. the Ronin is seeking revenge for his master while there are cuts to kid Mizu vowing to avenge her mother. it's so clear how the puppet tale parallels Mizu's life. and then they go SIKE YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW WHERE WE WERE GOING WITH THIS AND YOU WILL BE PUNISHED WITH ONE OF THE COOLEST EPISODES OF TELEVISION YOU'VE EVER SEEN IN YOUR LIFE

#AND it works this well ONLY in context. only if you've already drawn your own conclusions about mizu across the hours you've spent watching #it could have so easily veered off into ''woman is strong because a man hurt her'' but it did NOT. FOR A MOMENT.#honestly there are so many things abt this show that should not work but work perfectly because the writers know how to approach the situat #that's why i am not super concerned about how much i dislike that finale decision. who knows maybe it will work out like every other thing #bes liveblog

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the-gene-mile · 8 months

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rewatched the premier definitely super legally and just look at them

#these tags get. very rambly. so expand at ur own risk i'm just kinda yelling here #bob's burgers #ur insane if u think i'm tagging every character #i HAVE to draw gene in this outfit proper u don't get it i just love when they let him go full music man #this premier made me clinically insane i don't think u understand they're consuming my thoughts like brain eating amoeba #catastrophic autism levels rn #god rest the poor souls at uni that'll ask how my weekend was #genuinely surprised they managed to get jjr. zeke. rudy. marshmallow. AND fischoeder in the premier #like they got ALL our fav little guys in here huh #no courtney or alex tho i'm fine. no it's fine that's fine #love how gene just started lying down at some point #lil bro did NOT care abt the chores he was invested in the narrative #there were some rly great bits in this ep too #gene just being dramatic. 'hey guys look at pepperoni the pony'. every time fischoeder was on screen #v strong premier i am clearly very normal abt it #ngl i just made this post to archive all these screenshots for myself bc i love the costumes here

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constantvariations · 8 months

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"Ruby wouldn't be angry at Jaune because she would understand it was Penny's choice" as if grief over losing a close friend again after going through so much to save her again wouldn't manifest in absolute rage that blocks out suicide fetish logic. The writers refused Ruby her anger not only to protect their precious Jaune, but because they think certain emotions are evil

I'm constantly thinking about Blake in V5 attributing spite to Adam as if it's a bad thing. Spite is the emotional version of "hold my beer," and is responsible for some incredible things

Lord of the Flies by William Golding is a spiteful response to The Coral Island by R. M. Ballantyne, a story with the same premise of several middle class English boys being stranded on an island. Where Ballantyne has the boys having "wonderful adventures" such as... saving women and children from being killed and eaten by the native Polynesians, Golding depicts the boys falling into savagery as time and isolation grows their paranoia to the point where they start killing each other. Golding was pissed at the saccharine portrayal of English boys as the height of humanity because he was a teacher who taught that exact demographic and damn well knew better

After a teacher said he wasn't smart enough to get into college, Huey P. Newton taught himself how to read and got into law school. When the college committees were more into intellectual talk than action, he said, "Fuck this, I'm gonna make my own group," and he did! It became an international organization that had the FBI shitting themselves! That's the power of spite, baby!!

The writers are using emotions as a shorthand for a character’s morality, which is why Ruby can't be mad at Jaune without losing her status as a hero and why Adam's anger at injustice makes him irredeemable from day one. Ruby's ptsd disappears with a triumphant smile and musical number while Ironwood's vilifies and dehumanizes him even after his death

The writers have tied "negative" emotions to evil and "positive" to good when they're neither. Emotions are a body's response to stimuli, similar to goosebumps and crying. Think of it as a "check engine" light on your car's dashboard. What someone does because of their emotions can be good or bad, but emotions in and of themselves are morally neutral

Really wish people would learn that

#rwde #the demonization of anger is particularly troubling esp in the context of injustice #like??? sorry people dont wanna be sally sunshine abt their rights being taken away #i think it falls into respectability politics and 'the good victim' idea #the only victims considered strong are the ones who take their abuse with grace and poise #youre too weak if youre crying and scared bc of your trauma #youre too afraid if you build walls between you and the world bc of your trauma #youre too hysterical if youre pissed off and lashing out bc of your trauma #the only respected way is to grin and bear it until the abuse stops #which is absolute bullshit #people deserve to have any and every emotion without immediately being judged for having the 'wrong' response #we have so many emotions for a fucking reason!!!#and its super unhealthy to repress any emotion for long periods of time!! thats why so many people are miserable these days!!#fuck that sally sunshine perpetual positivity bullshit. let a mf be pissed off #and for characters let them be pissed off and wrong!!#let them lash out and hurt their friends or smash a car or punch a wall bc thats character conflict!! its drama!#its an opportunity for characters to grow and atone for their mistakes and ask for forgiveness they may not get #let rwby characters be full fledged people i am BEGGING

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opaleyedprince · 2 months

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dorian lorepost 3: friends, family, and fun (for me - not he)

under a cut bc this is L O N G and i mean. essay length probably

family

apart from his birth mother (roza), dorian has five members in his immediate family: his father (stephan), his stepmother (carmen), and three older half siblings: eduard, andrei, and isobel. the rest of dorian's family lack his dark hair and eyes, with all of his sibling having dirty-blond, red, or brown hair, leaving dorian to stick out like a sore thumb in family portraits.

his father was not expecting another child, much less one that inherited the family crest, and his relationship with dorian has always been awkward. as a child, dorian was very pushy about whether or not his father even cared about his birth mother at all, and for a period of several years refused to speak to him after a particularly bad fight. despite this, they are currently on speaking terms, with stephan teaching dorian how to properly activate/wield/manage his crest. he also ensured dorian was given proper combat training, along with scholarly teachings involving history, strategy, and politics.

dorian was very shy around his stepmother for months after being rescued from the bitter cold, and in turn carmen was conflicted about dorian and everything the child represented. but she was the first to notice the way dorian shivered at the slightest hint of a chill, his hesitance when it came to touch and his refusal of skin on skin contact despite how obviously he wanted connection. for his fifth birthday, she gifted him a pair of gloves that served to help alleviate his fears, and in turn he began to view her as a parental figure.

she took him under her wing - he was about a year behind her youngest - and raised him as her own. while his father provided dorian with lessons based around his future responsibilities as an inheritor of the family's crest, carmen ensured that he had not only a well-rounded education (expanding his lessons to include the arts and practical skills like cooking and sewing), but that he had hobbies as well (he took to things like dancing, poetry, embroidery, and fencing).

of dorian's three half siblings, the eldest is eduard, who took the addition of a new sibling in stride despite the fact that he was being raised to be the future head of house konstantinov before dorian's abrupt arrival. he doesn't have an adversarial relationship with dorian, but neither does he have a particularly close bond with him; he's always been distant and cold. since he's several years older than dorian, he has no real idea how to have a proper conversation with him. most of dorian's memories involve eduard talking about how dorian has to be perfect, exemplary, without flaw so that he does not bring shame upon their house. this sentiment comes from a place of genuine care, it's just that eduard hasn't made the effort to actually get to know dorian, absorbed as he is in his duties.

andrei is the middle child of dorian's half siblings, and the only one who has taken a wholly adversarial view of him. they find dorian's presence shameful and used to bully him relentlessly when they were children. it was only after their parents intervened that andrei backed off, though their relationship has never grown any warmer. andrei is a performer who travels throughout faerghus and is often on the road. they're generally a bit stuck-up and very proud, with a soft spot for their two siblings and no one else. secretly, both they and dorian wish to bridge the gap between them, but andrei has no clue how to go about apologizing for the way they've treated dorian in the past. despite no longer holding any real animosity towards him, they continue to be combative.

the youngest of dorian's half siblings - and the one closest to his own age - is isobel. she's just a year older than him, and took to dorian like a duck to water when they were introduced. the pair quickly became thick as thieves and would often get into trouble, with isobel becoming more outgoing around dorian (who managed to be even more shy than she was). out of his entire family, isobel is the one dorian is closest to; he writes letters to her regularly and hers is always the first opinion he seeks when he needs advice. a gifted and talented mage, isobel has chosen to spend her time teaching others using her skills. when she's not travelling throughout the kingdom offering herself as a tutor she spends her time honing her magic and putting her lessons on paper. as of dorian heading to the academy, she hopes to make copies of her work available within the next five years.

friends

as a member of house konstantinov, dorian grew up mostly hearing about the other houses in the holy kingdom via proxy - due to his status as the only child of the family that bore a crest, he was raised mostly secluded on the konstantinov grounds. on rare occasions when other nobility visited, he would spend most of the time in hiding due to his shy nature. he happened to meet several of the blue lions briefly throughout his earlier years (felix, ingrid, and dimitri). dorian had very few friendships apart from his close bond with his older sister.

due to his house's close relationship with the church of seiros, dorian is very used to being around knights and other members of the church, including even the archbishop herself. before the events of three houses, he had been to visit the monastery multiple times, and thinks of it as a safe place without needing time to settle in once the academy phase starts. he's friends with flayn and views seteth as a sort of older brother figure, and keeps up his swordplay skills by dueling the knights in their spare time.

dorian is capable of getting along with almost anyone, but as of the academy phase his circle of friends includes felix, mercedes, dedue, ignatz, linhardt, and tentatively dimitri.

lil misc details

dorian is deathly afraid of heights and the cold, often wearing more layers than is strictly necessary and refusing to look out of high windows or over railings

dorian's favorite animals are those often considered to be pests: vultures, ravens/crows, and foxes

dorian's room always has a large fire going in it, even during the warmer months

dorian is considered mysterious by others his age who don't know him (he's actually just shy)

dorian likes going on horseback rides and was given two hunting dogs when he came of age

when he's unable to sleep, dorian can be found going on walks outside or playing piano

so, about that crest

since it's stated that the nabatean's blood was a required component in giving the elites their crests, constantine likely already was in possession of a crest when they defected. however! since the game doesn't elaborate on the exact methods i chose to believe it was some sort of magic-laced blood transfusion, one which constantine was notably on the lesser receiving end of; because even in their elevated status they were still just an ex-stablehand.

so at some point i do think - as a form of hazing - constantine was forced to drink blood. which did suck but also well. you did betray your friend dude maaaaybe you should not have done that? and this is why the konstantinov crest behaves differently/the way it does.

anyway- effects of this! constantine's hair was probably run through with streaks of gray by the time they switched sides again to support seiros, and by the end of the war their hair was almost fully white. it was only with rhea's help that they were able to better manage the effects of their crest on their body and psyche.

among these effects was the ability to hear the other relics, or rather to hear bits of who they had once been. their own weapon, which beat in their hands to the tempo of the crest stone imbedded within it, whispered to them in the voice of the friend they'd allowed to be killed. even after the war, constantine was seen as a mysterious recluse, driven mad by their own guilt and oath-bound to the church in a form of eternal repentance.

constantine lived far longer than any of the other elites, becoming a pale shadow who lingered at rhea's side and served her faithfully as one of her very first knights. upon their passing, they were entombed by their family in what would become the konstantinov mausoleum, located in the cold frostbitten mountains where the family grounds was also constructed.

now, decades and decades later, their crest still allows the inheritor to hear the whispers of the hero's relics, though said whispers have grown quieter and rarer over time.

even individuals that do not inherit the konstantinov crest still find themselves preferring their meats rare, and some have been born with particularly sharp senses or found their incisors growing in more pointed than before when they lost their baby teeth. depleting ones' energy by overusing the crest will cause the user to crave rare meats, and outsiders who know the workings of their crest often refer to them as vampires as a joke (they don't actually drink blood - except in cases of desperation orrr well. what partners do is their business and not anyone else's mkay).

dragon and blood imagery is prevalent outside of the family's coat of arms, and dark maroon is the most common underlying color when it comes to decorations or things that are associated with the family, such as a flag or a handkerchief. rather than ordinary gargoyles, the mansion sports draconic ones, along with dragons incorporated into the architecture or furniture inside, with the primary accent color being gold or golden-bronze.

#opal.txt #oc lore tag #oc tag: dorian #i do like constantine i am very compelled by them #haunted literally. by that one choice for the rest of their life #any crest inheritors who were also vegetarian go down in the family's history btw they're held up as very strong #the prevalent dragon imagery is a thread connecting them back to the nabateans #isobel and dorian are so so close. she was probably the first one dorian talked to abt not being a girl #i also think all of dorian's siblings and his dad have green eyes. it's the dragon in them continuing to peek through even after so long #dorian's pupils do turn to slits when he activates his crest - as a child he used to not be able to switch back and forth with such ease #anyway. have this whole essay on dorian. i've made my own wiki article for him w/this almost

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