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sabineelectricheart · 11 days

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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.

#piofiore

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