#ITS SO STUPID BUT I WAS CRYING

[poofpoofpurin]

how can you look at me like that

[coatl-cuddles]

Hello, Sky? Yes, I'd like to order three (3) doomed, self-fullfilling prophecy princes? Thank youuu

[saintaviator]

oooo yeowch ouchie owch augh ough ow

[emositecc]

ITS STUCK IN MY HEAD I HAD TO-

Cover by @swiblettheduk

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[noah-be-silly]

Your honour they are SO stupid-

[bbq-potato-chip]

Ah yes. Me. My girlfriend. And her thousands of frogs that breached containment from her latest experiment (I support her experiments and can’t wait to see what she’ll do next <3)

[randomminty]

If i dont get that eevee bag ill die in the next 5 seconds im serious

[kat1nkulta]

I can’t stop thinking about Loop. Imagine doing everything, anything, to get out of a traumatic situation but the price is you. Your body is gone, your name is gone, your family doesn’t recognize you, you feel like most of your memories of them are gone too anyway. Suddenly you’re denied your identity. It’s like YOU never existed… and someone else took your place. You, whose biggest fears are forgetting and being forgotten in turn. You, who’s hesitant to change and now you’re forced to. You can’t even really blame anyone else because you did get your wish, right?

It’s explained clearly in the game, but the implications of it just hit me extra hard sometimes. Siffrin is as much of a study of Loop as Loop is of Siffrin. They share(d) their fears too so mal du pays words essentially becoming the truth to Loop is just… 🪨🪨🪨🙁🙁🙁💥💥💥💥

What do you do when all you have is ripped from you, all your worst fears come true, and youre forced to just… come to terms with it?

[ask2ps]

i really wanna hear more about the 2ps possessing their 1ps?? do they swap bodies or does their original body just go limp?

a) it's not quite a "body swap." the phrase i've used in past writings for it is "overwriting." i think "suppression" would also be appropriate. the 1ps are, if all goes to plan, "put to sleep". they essentially become a repressed memory. oliver set it up like this because he didn't want the 1p nations trying to constantly win back their body. even so, some nations put up a real fight as they're overwritten (and maybe even a little after if they're strong/stubborn enough... ahem ahem america) italy is not one of them though, partially because 2p italy got him in his sleep.

b) yeah they just go limp lol . they're empty husks, now. free meat. england would try a bite if it canada would let him

[czaneavecg]

this is rather stupid but what it the vessel frm greenpath n Broken didn't die and actually get to watch Hornet try to beat up Ghost

[notsafeforvought]

Occupied [Oneshot]

"'God, this is so…' Pathetic? Perverted? Depraved? No word accurately described how ashamed he felt for doing this. It was wrong to do something like this. Why couldn’t he just wait until you got back?”

RATING: 18+ MDNI

SUMMARY: Hughie gets lonely while you're at work.

EXTRA INFO: GN!Reader, reader not present for story (until end) | no beta we die like men AUTHOR’S NOTE: pillowfucker hughie,, , (gets so lightheaded i pass out and die) anyways htis is. so self indulgent and ummm uhhh uh runs away crying WORD COUNT: 1k

Nothing was working. His hand wasn’t working, porn wasn’t working. Hughie laid on his bed, groaning and whining to himself. He needed something, someone to hold onto. He needed to dig his hands into someone and bury his face into their body. He needed you. 

He looked over at your pillow on your side of the bed. An idea pops into his head, immediately filling his body with shame. It was a disgusting thing to think of doing. Would he really go that far?

Yes, he would.

It was only supposed to be something he held onto as a way to feel closer to you as he got off. He held the pillow close to his face, breathing in your faint scent on the fabric. He feels a wave of shame wash over him as he realizes it’s working. But it wasn’t working enough.

Hughie whines softly as his brain is flooded with mental images of him grinding and humping against your pillow. He tries to shoo the thoughts away, but they don’t stop. And after a moment, he doesn’t stop himself from sitting upright and positioning your pillow under him, nested between his legs.

“God, this is so…” Pathetic? Perverted? Depraved? No word accurately described how ashamed he felt for doing this. It was wrong to do something like this. Why couldn’t he just wait until you got back? He had texted you earlier, hinting at what he wanted to do later tonight, but you were too busy at work to respond. How sad. 

He slowly grinds against your pillow, the soft feeling knocking the breath out of his lungs. His hands dig into the fabric, shaping it perfectly around him. A shudder sounds from him as he awkwardly tries to finesse the pillow and his body into a comfortable position. Being so awkwardly tall wasn’t helping much.

Shutting his eyes, Hughie let his imagination run wild. Images of you underneath him, on top of him, inside him, around him… He softly whines out your name under his breath before remembering he’s home alone and he can be as loud as he wants. But he’s shy, still continuing to attempt to stifle the noises he’s making. 

“Please,” he mumbles, not daring to open his eyes to break the immersion. In his mind, he was with you. He could imagine what you’d feel like if you were really there, practically hearing the little flirty teases you’d whisper to get him all riled up. His lips stay parted as his breath picks up, his whole face flushed down to his chest.

He rambles under his breath as he gets more into it, most of it incoherent. “Mhm… please… so good, it’s so–fuck,” he exhales the last word, folding forward over the pillow. Poor boy couldn’t even hold himself upright anymore. For a split second, he almost wishes he had grabbed one of your jackets or sweaters to put over the pillow to put the sleeves over his own back. All he could do was imagine your arms wrapped around him as he hunches over the pillow and cries out in pleasure.

It only takes a moment for him to get close, his cock twitching against the fabric. Fuck. He’d need to pull away from your pillow when he comes to not make a mess. It’s the last thing he wants to do, but he already felt disgusting for getting this far. But in the heat of the moment, he rationalizes it. 

I can just do the laundry. It’d be done in time. Nobody but me would know.

He shakes his head, brows knitted together and eyes shutting even tighter as he tries to shake the thought. No, he is not that pathetic. Well…

Your scent on the pillow fills his lungs as he practically hyperventilates into the plush. He always got so worked up, and without you there to remind him to breathe, it would be a miracle if he got out of this without passing out. As he inches closer to coming, he keeps telling himself that he needs to pull away, even if it feels so good and warm against him. 

Maybe it’s just the heat of the moment, but he almost considers how you’d react if you saw him like this. Humping a pillow, nearly to tears simply because he misses you? It’s pitiful, honestly. He knows you’d find it pitiful, and you’d tease him. He thinks about how you’d react if you walked in right now. You’d tell him to continue while you watch him, whispering playful yet degrading words about how pathetic he is and how he moans like a girl when he gets close and every other thing he was doing to warrant any tease from you.

“Mmf��� miss you… need you, I need you, I–” he chokes out, giving a couple final hard thrusts into your pillow as he comes. He’d deny it, but he never really had any intentions to pull away. His teeth sink into the pillow as he tenses up, face tight with ecstasy as he tries to catch his breath. “F-Fuck…” he sighs, looking down at the hot and sticky mess on the pillow. There was a spot of drool from where he bit your pillow. And then the reality of what he just did sinks in.

–

You come home from work, another late night. You lock the door behind you, calling out to Hughie. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t see your text, we were just so busy today…” You can smell the faint scent of detergent. “Did you do the laundry?”

Hughie emerges from the utility room, carrying a little basket in his hands. He smiles warmly as he sees you, practically stumbling over his feet as he rushes up to give you a little kiss. “Yeah. Figured it’d take a little weight off your shoulders,” he reassures you, setting the laundry basket down to cup your face in his palm.

“And don’t worry about that. I kept myself occupied.”

[dukeofthomas]

Rät by Penelope Scott is so Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

[ganondoodle]

(elden ring DLC spoilers)

i fucking love Radahn so much, what i wouldnt give to meet ACTUAL him, he just gets toyed with and exploited so cruelly, you never really get to know him or what he wants im hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh so normal :)

like i know theres little to go by with typical fromsoft lore and stuff but agreeing to marry miquelly feels so ... not radahn like, why would he have fought malenia and then even after gettign the rot refuse to die if he wanted that .... also didnt he believe in the golden order?? miquella wanted to replace it basically????-

even his 'new' design feels like some idealized version of him that miquella dreamed up, theres significant differences in whats left of radahn in the main game and i feel like even that is an important detail (the braids ... i braids are IMPORTANT IM TELLING YOU-) like it .... to some degrees looks ..almost cheap, like an action figure (what the hell are all those sword things on his belt?? he has his two giant blades that dont go in that??? he would never use a different one?? whats it doing here??) (also the fact that leonard is missing .... like sure we like to over emphasize some character quirks but i also feel like thats and important thing- leonard clearly meant alot to him and he had him still with him when he was fighting malenia and stayed together even after rotting away)

what really REALLY makes me so very "normal" about everything is that radahn remains voiceless and has no say in anythign the entire time we meet him, hes either a zombie or a literally flesh puppet constructed by his own half brother (out of another family member, which clearly shows bc hes using blood magic and got horns growing)- aside from very few quotes on some items we never get to know him, we dont know what he wanted, he gets dragged into this and is then like some animated statue, theres no emotion in his face, even less sound he makes when fighting, even, in my opinion, his animation in the final DLC fight seem OFF to me- it looks stiff how hes moving whenever hes not actively attacking

(also miquella and what he wants is constantly talked about, but while its all about radahn in a way . we never hear anything from radahns side, its never even questioned. as far as i know, like !!!!! argh!!!)

(edit: also also the fact that in this puppet version of the design changes arent just the armor, his skin is different color too, even in the trailer when he fights malenia- BEFORE the rot- he seemed sort of ashy- greyish dark, even if hard to tell with color tint- his hair much longer in og now much shorter and in braids, his armor less practical and more show offy, he doesnt have a bow, even his swords look different, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY his weird anatomy he seems to have in og that i think is from renalla is gone too- AND yes i know his body is constructed from moghs there- which makes this all so much worse bc almost all that was him is stripped away and twisted into what miquella wants from him, second phase its almost all light attacks tooo- ok im stopping this now)

i know it might seem like im just making excuses bc i cant handle my favorite character agreeing to marry his own half brother- BUT I DONT CARE- HE DIDNT WANT IT- WE DONT KNOW WHAT HE WANTS- WE NEVER GET TO ASK HIM- HE NEVER GETS TO SPEAK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASDJKBHKFJBGSKBVGFHDKBFKABKBA

[lovesickeros]

☆ 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.."

[wish-i-were-heather]

i cant have an argument without crying wtf