Idv X Reader - Blog Posts

The feeling where Norton’s hunter counterpart easily carries you with one rock hand? But he puts down his pickaxe and use both his hands, letting him see and feel exactly how small you are compared to him in his hunter form. It makes him feel excited that he’s amused when you try to struggle out of his hold. Only to be stuck in his grasp for the rest of the match.

But with your hunter counterpart, you gain a bit of height that you have to look down at his survivor form even though his height reaches up to your chest area. And despite not knowing the reason why his counterpart carries your small survivor form, you decided to do it towards his survivor counterpart. Which he’s embarrassed to be seen by his teammates being carried by his treasure’s hunter form. he can totally see his teammates teasing him about this moment after they all escape.

Can I send a request Platonic Female dancer, Cheerleader and Journalist x Ballet Dancer reader (not separate or both happen at the same time).

Pirouette's for Days (surviors! x gn!ballerina!reader)

# reader has a backstory , cut 4 length , there's a small kiss in each part but they are seen as platonic and not romantic , grammar and spelling warning , a tinge of ooc

INTRO

After a horrible “accident” left your theater in ash, the manors offer of shelter seemed to be your only hope. While the situation was not ideal, I suppose it did work out in the end. In exchange for shelter, food and water, you get stuck running for your life from blood thirsty Hunters who are dealing with the same things you are.

You should’ve been off and on your feet by now, but stuck in a never ending game of life and death leaves you trapped in a rickety manor that won’t let you leave. Thankfully, you’ve met some amazing people during your stay and you couldn’t ask for more. (Well, maybe a way out. But you’ll just have to take their deduction costume as an apology.)

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Female Dancer

Your destined arrival was a surprise to Margaretha, a delightful one sure, but a shocker nonetheless.

Margaretha truly believed that she would be the only dancer to ever roam these treacherous halls, that no one would ever understand her on a deeper level when it comes to dancing. How the act of it envelops her and consumes her mind and body entirely. Assuming the dancer was forever destined to waltz alone, others could hear her slow music box accompanied by the soft melody of her tears in the dead of night.

Thankfully, that time has come and gone, and Margaretha is in a better place now. Your company has shown her that not everything and everyone is bad in the world, she cherishes you deeply. She just isn't 100% sure how to show it.

You've found yourself adjusting to your peculiar situation quite fast, and you're sure that the Female Dancer is the one to blame. You spend most of your time with her, and usually, that time is spent on stage somewhere in the manor. This is where your secrets have spilled. This is where you've perfected your Grand Adage. This is where you've shared a kiss with the one and only Female Dancer.

Margaretha will break in your ballet shoes for you. She will help you sew and pick out your performance outfit for your upcoming solo. (You being forced by Ms. Nightingale to dance at one of the events, don't worry about it.) Margaretha will help you bend and flex every fiber of your being. Margaretha will do nearly everything for you, and you will do almost anything for her.

Cheerleader

Lily is almost certain she's seen a show of yours in the past, at least, before she was stripped of her aristocratic status because of the accident. Whether it was you or someone else performing, she remembers it and quotes it as an incredible experience.

Right off the bat, Lily wants to be your friend. She may not be the first person you meet in the manor, but she's a face worth remembering, as the Cheerleader starts to appear more often in your new life at the manor. If you do decide to indulge in the Cheerleader and choose to seek her out, she'll start to appear at your side more often.

The Cheerleader learns of your upcoming performance and is instantly intrigued. With the eyes of a puppy, she begs to see your practice, just for a little bit. How could you deny her? Not that you were going to, originally you were going to ask her if she wanted to see what you'd been working on. She doesn't have to know that though, as you quickly take her hand in yours and race off to the auditorium where your practices have been taking place.

Watching you dance triggers memories to flood in, and before she knows it, tears are flowing down her face. Your performance has moved her to tears and all she can do is mumble a small "m sorry..." as she tries quickly to compose herself. Your show has reminded her of better times before the accident took place, before her brother was rendered bed-bound, and before her life was overcome with grief and abuse. You help comfort her, hugging her tightly and laying gentle kisses on her head.

Lily will always cheer you on from the sidelines. Quiet as a mouse during your performance she quietly gasps from the sidelines, but after your show, she showers you with praise and compliments. Commenting on every aspect of your dance and applauding you for all the hard work and effort you put toward the show. Her words make you teary-eyed before she kisses them away. Your her friend, she doesn’t want you crying! Taking your hand in hers, the two of you rush off elsewhere to celebrate your successful performance.

The Journalist

Alice DeRoss has most likely heard of you and your grand theater, it's even possible that one of her coworkers has interviewed you before. Although, she'll never know as she loses her memory of them the more she's stuck in here.

When she first meets you, she's (just a bit) overly kind. Sensing the fact that you've just gone through something traumatic (like everyone has in this damn place.) she wants to make sure you feel safe with her, despite your unlikely situation right now.

As one of the first people you meet, you feel most at ease with her. Which is one of the reasons why you choose to stay closest to the Journalist. Alice doesn't mind as she enjoys your company and finds that you're an intriguing character to talk to. Whether it be about ballet, more of your background, or just random things in general, she finds herself smiling more in your presence.

Alice is the first person to see your performance finished or now. Whether you're dancing with Margaretha or performing a solo, you spot a flash of light from the audience. Her camera has caught you soaring through mid-air as if defying gravity itself and it wows her. Your performance leaves her mouth slightly agape before she snaps out of it and claps for you. (And maybe Margaretha, but either way she was looking at you the entire time.)

When you finally do put on your performance, Alice has got front-row seats and is amazed the entire time. You look stunning on stage and she doesn't dare to take her eyes off of you for a second. In the end, she is waiting for you on the side of the stage and (with the help of Emma) has brought you a bouquet and a special kiss on the cheek for all your efforts.

note: EAT UP IDV WOMEN LOVERS (please reblog) (also i didn't expect to actually get something out tn)

(2024)©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

JOIN JOIN JOIN JOIN

— ❝ 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞. ❞

welcome, detectives, to philomena propellente; a sfw, idv-centric network established in the hopes of creating a safe space for creators within the community to meet, grow, and share their work! we hope you enjoy your stay! ♡︎

— ❝ 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬. ❞

the higher ups.

featured detectives.

unsolved cases.

— ❝ 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧? ❞

requirements.

applications.

we look forward to working with you.

He Who Has The Power

A 'What-If' for The Economic Difference Between The Miner and Mine Owner's Daughter

Rated Explicit | Warning: period typical sexism, past noncon mentioned, depression, power imbalance

Golden Cave ruined your family utterly.

All because of greed, the families of those dead miners caused such an uproar that politicians are using it to their advantage. Did your father truly cut corners just so he could find the supposed gold in the Golden Cave? The villagers reportedly did warn him both the dangers in the cave, but they also took the work opportunity too… God, this is such a mess! How could this happen!?

When you woke up, the doctor of the mining site said Norton was carrying your unconscious body to the infirmary before the explosion happened. Since that accident, you have been asleep… 

For a year. So much happened in a year, so much time missing.

There were no dreams, no sensation of being asleep for so long! Doctor Dyer even said they started fearing the worst. It is not like that was your concern; it was your father and the miners.

The news given to you is beyond heartbreaking… In a year you have lost everything your father ever owned or built himself, including your home.

When you learned more about the events… The explosion, the suicide pact made by your father, and ordered the workers to follow—There was a research article on the gas that caused the hallucination.

How were the hallucinations they saw so realistic to them that your father would… Why the suicide pact?! Did they truly believe the promises of in the sentences of madness?! A question you know the answer to as the detonation of the charges buried the cave with everyone inside, all those men who worked themselves so often to death to make ends meet— Scarcely.

Perhaps this karma…  As now you are left with utterly nothing.

The mining company went bankrupt to pay the families off… Everything your father owned was sold off by your mother’s side of the family, they did not want to take from their pockets the money needed to pay off your father’s debts.

The life you knew is gone, your mother's family had turned away from you to keep their livelihood secure (though they pay for your medical upkeep), and the families of those miners demanded your blood. It is a nightmare scenario that leaves you helpless.

It hurt that their last words to you were to either find a rich husband or sell yourself at some brothel. They abandoned you, just like they did with your father after your mother died.

Suddenly, you have fallen from the top to now sinking into the bottom.

It was too much for you. The sense of isolation, loneliness, and helplessness quickly takes root in your heart. Your friend, the doctor whose name is William Dyer, visits you from time to time—Visiting as often as he can with his wife when you are transferred to a mental ward.

Your dark thoughts had led you to a dark option as you grieved; staying in a coma felt like a better option.

Yet, you find yourself digging more into it despite the advice of Doctor Dyer given your fragile mental state.

The Golden Cave accident, how could it have gotten so… The more reports say the mine was unfit to be worked in, they say the gas within the cave has a hallucination effect, the canary that was sent in died but your father covered it up.

Everything was your father’s fault, and the sins of the father fall upon his only child.

Doctor Dyer took you in when you were discharged from the hospital. You have nothing but some clothes that do not fit you, and Dyer apologizes that he could not get anything that belonged to you during the year of your coma. You do not mind wearing a man’s overalls and work shirt; you were simply grateful to have a friend in this cold world. You swore to repay his and his wife’s kindness; you will not take this for granted.

The road is not easy, or rather it is especially not easy for a woman to find work, and you are unmarried as well. 

Your name does not help as it brings out different types of reactions—The worst is the one when you were able to fetch a job as a maid for some new money tycoon.

It took a few months, Doctor Dyer told you that there is light at the end of this darkness and you are close to reaching it. The wife says luck is on your side, she gives serious advice though when you tell her about being a housekeeping service. They are popular among the new money as many of their staff are young and agreeable looking. You realize what she means when one of the older women who in is charge tells you a pretty face goes a long way rather than skill (there is a different skill they suggested you to work on).

The old woman says there was a client who specifically asked for you, and you know this going to be risky as your name is well-known. The papers were at least in your favor, but some people will gladly take out their outrage on you.

In a snap of a finger, when the chosen servants entered the mansion, a castle truthfully, to greet their new master; your luck quickly ran out the moment you laid eyes upon the person you will be working for...

Norton Campbell.

Father was never a religious man, he was a firm believer in man taking his fate into his own hands.

Thus it made it strange why he and other miners took their lives in the Golden Cave, the doctor says they were… All of them… Were so firm about following your father deep into the cave to sacrifice themselves. You are never going to get answers, no matter how deep you try to search for them, it is like every answer is buried in Golden Cave, Lakeside Village.

You had to stop at some point, you needed to focus on living and surviving every day with your last name.

With your current job, you are busy every moment of the day; Master Campbell has you working like a dog. Heh, guess it makes sense given the moment he laid eyes on you— The humorous laugh he let out when he had stood in front of you after inspecting the other house staff, he plucked you out of the lined-up team to speak with you in private. Contract modification, he made you his personal maid.

Working for Master Campbell is hell, a twisted penance, he hangs over your head not only being the one who saved your life but the one who was bullied by your father and his lackeys. He told you to get used to sore hands and knees.

The company says the employer can do whatever they wish as long as it is in the contract, signed, and the money in commission to the company and the employee given is the appropriate amount.

Oh, you signed the new contract. It felt like you pricked your finger and signed it in blood. You need the money, you need the housing, and you know this is the only place you are going to get work— Steady work.

Today you timed that Master Campbell is stressed, he usually is this time of year…

After all, it is the anniversary of the Golden Cave incident.

He keeps to himself, staying in his study for most of the day, quiet too. You stand in front of the study dutifully guarding it from any of the staff who may need to ‘bother’ him, you are an extension of him so you may speak for him today.

It is almost a rough day for you, it always has and always will be. Your father's death, the miners’ death, and there is no amount of money that will bring back the lives lost that day. There was a big scandal, the accident was talked about for days, and it suddenly went quiet until you woke up a year later.

You… Still wished you never woke up.

“(Last Name),” You nearly jump at the sound of Norton's voice coming from behind you, the study door is open, “I need you.” Low, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispers those words in your ear.

You can't help the shiver up your spine, nor stop him from pulling you into the study.

The door closes silently but the lock if it echoes like a deathbell.

In the end, he won. 

“Master Campbell!”

He won, a victory long deserved and he is basking in the light of it.

“Please, Master Campbell!”

Here you are the prize, laid out on his desk, your arms pinned down and eyes gloss with tears and shameful desire. Your uniform is a mess now, the apron tossed to the floor, the top ripped open at the top exposing your chemise— Which he tore open to touch your breasts—, the skirt lifted and old fashion open drawers he has you wear— Only you— Giving him free excess to your cunt.

You are glowing in the afternoon sun peeking from the partially open curtains, you are trembling as you are recovering from the first orgasm he drives you to. He licks his fingers as you are trying to gather your senses, something he doesn't allow as he pulls out his hard cock from his trousers.

A couple of unworthy souls, the burnt scars on the left side of his face and body, and now he has it all. Including you.

It is laughable, he has laughed about so many nights alone in his study with a glass of bourbon, he won it all!

Norton fucking Campbell has made it to the top!

From the bowels of the earth to the highest point of the sky, this bastard has risen above them all! The price is well worth it to have that thieving boss’ daughter right here. Yes, that mine owner's daughter serves that runt Norton Campbell like a whore! Cleaning wherever the chores take you before night falls you here on his bed.

Finally, the sight before him has made the years of torment almost worth it…

You cry out his name, his first name, as he thrusts hard and deep into your quim; he groans with a grin on his face as once more your velveteen blissful walls squeeze around him. Oh, he knows how deep he is, so deep there is a bump at your lower stomach as his cock kisses your cervix, it makes him feral as he can touch it and know you feel it too.

The first time you touch the bump, you nearly fainted from shock, instead you fainted from how many times you cummed that night. Norton is insatiable when it comes to you.

A wolf with his jaws around the perfect sacrificial lamb, he will devour you each time.

“So fucking tight,” Chuckling as he pins your arms above your head with one hand and another groping roughly your breast. “Such a perfect cunt, and it's all mine.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, tears at the corner of your eyes, your body is screaming for him to move. It is cruel how your body welcomes him like a lover, your mind only accepts this as a transaction between employer and employee.

Even if it is inappropriate, you need to survive.

“Yes, Master Campbell…” Knowing he wants to hear you agree, “You are… So much…”

“Pft, you are still terrible at bedroom talk,” It puts one of your legs on his shoulder, “Not like it matters as I am going to fuck you until all you can say barely is my name.” A promise he always makes good on, staff already has heard half of the sexual encounters between the two of you.

Norton is not a mess you do not recall in the Golden Cave, he learned and had fun with others just to ruin you for anyone. You are his toy, his prize, his one and only; so long as he has his status and power, you will remain here.

Forever, he made the perfect gilded cage. You should be thankful you wormed your way into his heart.

The creaking protests of the desk, the slapping of skin, your body falling apart and he is rebuilding each time, and he is pulling you down into the abyss with each kiss on your lips.

“You're mine,” Possessive, “That's it, go on singing little canary, give me your all.” Demanding.

Norton's hands are all over your body, his teeth too as he marks your skin. Greedy.

He is going to pull you into the darkness, he will be your shining false hope like the Fool's Gold he would find during his secret digs. You will breathe him in, become lost in the caverns of his desire, and come to accept it as love.

OMGGGG YESS

ASK: Yan! Andrew, Matthias, and Luca with a reader that's weak and a people pleaser, please? :')

A PUPPET TO ALL IS A PUPPET TO NONE.

( yandere puppeteer & “prisoner” ) + gn!reader

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🔮⋆ yandere characters , mentions of killing + manipulation , I do not condone any of these actions , useage of pet names , reader is considered “weak” and “easy to manipulate” + an INSANE people pleaser , , Luca x Sock /j , little knowledge of chess ik , this is absolute ASS I’m so sorry , Andrew isn’t here b/c I gave up , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

You've been stepped on and used your entire life, and it didn't help the fact you turned out to be a weak kiss-up either. But that was how you got by. That was how you avoided the worst outcomes and changed your fate for the better.

Your luck ends here though, as the harsh conditions of these "games" leave you feeble, but also delicate. He promises to help you, to keep you safe for as long as he needs to and to only do what feels necessary to protect you from the onslaught of horrors.

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✦— THE PUPPETEER ♟️ | A pawn created to be controlled by the gods above, a loyal piece to be sacrificed for “the greater good”. Although very talented, he is looked down upon by those above him. What happens when this ‘pawn’ grabs at the ropes that bind him to this role?

Matthias Czernin had always been neglected and disregarded as if he was worth nothing his entire life. “Louis” has always taken the spotlight and, even in this wretched manor haunts his every move no matter how many times he tries to abandon him. Fire and ash, he’s watched the puppet's death countless times now. And yet, he always comes back without as much of a scratch on his wooden body.

But then, he gets the chance to meet you, and Matthias doesn’t understand what he’s done to be graced with such a presence. The life he lived before arriving here shouldn’t qualify for this type of privilege. What god had crafted every wrinkle and twitch of your perfect body just to discard you this Alcatraz? It seems he’ll never know, but the Puppeteer will do anything in his power to save you from the wretched forces orchestrating these games. Even if it means getting dirty.

♟️| Matthias Czernin is an introvert at best. He strays away from large crowds and doesn’t start conversations unless needed to. But with you, he finds speaking like second nature. Easy, relaxing, and enjoyable. The Puppeteer likes watching the creases in your eyes appear and the smile you show to him. [He wishes it was only for him.]

↳ It’s not that Matthias couldn’t [communicate], more so he just struggles with the ability to do so. We never get any insight into friends he might’ve had/made, so it’s safe to assume most if not all of his time was devoted to learning the craft of puppetry. Not for his enjoyment, but rather for his fathers as he was seeking acknowledgment and praise from him. [his mother as well, though, it seems Matthias craved it more from his father.]

♟️| Matthias Czernin doesn’t realize why [yet…] he feels this indomitable obligation to keep you entirely to himself. The annoyance he feels when someone comes in between the two of you is unmeasurable to anything he’s ever felt before. So much so that he enjoys keeping a hand on you. It’s almost sweet, whether it be a pinky intertwined with yours or a harsh grip on your wrist.

↳ Either subconsciously or not, Matthias starts to cling to you as if his life depended on it. This tactic seems to work wonderfully for him, as your friends, old and new, start to greatly distance themselves from you. They’re sick of the looming, brooding presence that the Puppeteer gives off, and seemly leave you in the dark about it.

♟️| Matthias Czernin who yearns for your praise above everything else. A puppeteer who’s been controlled with his strings [for his entire life] eventually starts to forget what it means to truly be appreciated. The feeling of want, need, and utter desire sends Matthias spiraling. He needs more, and especially from you.

It’s a quiet, dusk day when it accidentally slips from his mouth. His head in your lap with the two of you alone and away from the world had to be something straight from a rom-com. So when a subtle, yet distinct noise that sounds like a profession of his love is ripped from his throat, he does his best to act like you never heard him. It’s only when you seemingly light up that he starts to think that maybe you reciprocated a bit more than he thought.

The Puppeteer is immediately up and out of your lap, and, from somewhere somehow is filled with the courage to continue where he left off. Yes, he thinks you’re better than everyone here. Yes, he doesn’t care what past actions you’ve committed to land yourself in here, he thinks you’re absolutely perfect. Yes, he would trap you and keep you all to himself if he could. Yes, he loves you. And yes, he absolutely adores you. Albeit, maybe a bit too much.

✦— THE “PRISONER” ♝ | Intelligent, cunning and corrupt, the Bishop is a worthy opponent and is always thinking outside of the box. However, jealousy runs deep through their veins. What’s the next step when they get messy and act on impulse? Breaking their picture-perfect persona in exchange for revealing their true self?

Luca Balsa was destined to be the next big inventor from the get-go. The Balsa prestige was always meant to be written down in history books anyway. So how did he end up here? With the blood of his old mentor on his hands, there’s no erasing what’s already been done.

And yet, a murderer with or without remorse is still just that: a murderer. The stings of electric shock stay as a reminder of the act that has been committed, and the Balsac name that will forever be tarnished. But there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. This time, it’s you.

♝ | Luca Balsa comes face to face with you during your first-ever match. You’re like a baby bird: completely and utterly unaware of the dangers that will soon show their face to you in only the most haunting forms. You’re scared, frightened even. Is this all just a nightmare? Will someone pinch you and bring you back to earth? It isn’t until the “Prisoner” lends you a helping hand that you realize that, no, this isn’t a dream, but a purgatory turned into your new reality. You leave your first match unscathed. At least, physically.

♝ | Luca Balsa isn’t blind to your shaken form, and who could? After a match like that, the tremble in your legs and the quivering in your speech can be excused [especially since it was your first of many!] So, being the kind, “aristocratic” gentleman he is, the “prisoner” lends his arm out to you as an invitation to dinner. You take it, and it’ll probably be the second worst choice you’ve ever in your life up ‘till now. [number one being you coming here, of course.]

↳ It’s almost scary how quickly Luca begins to stick to you. He keeps it concealed from most [including you], but others can see through his facade. They can tell an obsession is forming, and not a healthy one. [to be fair, none of his obsessions are healthy.]

♝ | Luca Balsa who, whenever you’re not looking, sifts through your belongings, keeping little mementos of you when you’ve been stripped away from his side. [It sounds cute at first, but soon you start to notice that some of your items have gone missing.] So far, it seems the “Prisoner” has pilfered a silver bracelet, a shiny stone, and a singular striped sock. You don’t notice it, but the bracelet is on his right arm covered by his black and white sleeve. The stone, in his left pocket [he considers it lucky]. And the sock? Well, um, yeah.

↳ Luca may or may not have been caught coming out of your room before. He plays it off giving an almost actress-worthy performance. He states that he’d “forgotten something and left it in your room.” Most fall for it, but others [more specifically Ganji & Naib] are starting to keep a closer watch on him. Little do they know, Luca may or may not be planning their downfall.

♝ | Luca Balsa who isn’t afraid to pull at the weak strings of your life, to manipulate the events for his desired outcome to be brought to life. And with you, an easy prey and an incredibly naive person makes his job just that much easier. Whether it’s him whispering lies into your ears or sending threats under the [dinner] table, he’s got you wrapped around his finger in no time.

↳ if you haven’t picked up on it yet, this man isn’t above approaching these situations with more serious accusations. He’s already got blood on his hands, what else is new? [don’t ask about the pocket knife he’s started bringing around now.]

♝ | Luca Balsa is anything but the quiet type when it comes to his affection towards you. His undying feelings for you already started strong, and his blabbering mouth won’t shut up about you. It’s beginning to rub others the wrong way.

Luca Balsa is the type to whisk you away [farther than he’s already done before] and to confess his dying feelings for you in a field of meadows, the action beautiful and strange whilst he presents to you a promise ring. The topaz center glistens and gleams in the golden hour, and everything looks straight out of a romance novel. Unless you knew where to look.

The shiny kitchen knife stowed away in the picnic basket speaks as a warning in it, and the glint of something gold—something like your grandmother's bracelet that’s been missing for weeks now— shines underneath his black and white striped sleeves. But the glint of hope, life, and pure adoration in his eyes has you fooled. Your rose-tinted glasses make every red flag seem a playful pink, and you stick out your ring finger as he graciously slides the piece of jewelry on.

The ring shows itself to you as a promise. A promise to always love and cherish you no matter the wrongdoings you commit [even if he believes you can’t do any] and to hold you so close it would bruise the body he worships oh so dearly. The ring shows itself to you as a promise to not let anyone or anything get in the way of this relationship.

—

note: thank GOD they’re weird people out there like me who give chess pieces personalities. thank the people on the 2012 forum at chess.com.

↳ hi and hello everyone! it’s been a minute, hasn’t it. I personally NEVER thought this fic would see the light of day, but then again, here we are. I want to thank everyone for their patience and for all of the support I’ve earned during my time here on this platform. getting to write for people makes me so happy, and the notes make me giddy — especially when people talk about how much they liked the fic in it. I am so, so sorry this came out so late, and I’m ever more apologetic to all of my tumblr friends who had to deal with my…less than communicating ass. To the person who requested this, I’m personally hunting you down and letting you know this has been in the making since APRIL 9TH 2024. YEAH. [im kidding, it’s not your fault.] thank you all again for the unwavering support, and almost for 300 followers. LOVE YOU ALL!! ⸜( ˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́ )⸝ <3

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

okay chat. let’s fucking do this shit!

“A PUPPET TO ALL IS A PUPPET TO NONE” coming to your tags (hopefully) THIS Sunday. Maybe. Perchance. I’m not sure.

Cross your fingers

General Relationship Headcanons: Matthias Czernin x reader

This is the first time I ever written something like this and shout out to my friend who gave me the courage to write on tumblr.

Being in a relationship with Matthias, you would need to have patience with him due to the trust issues that stem from his trauma.

ꕥ Even with his shyness, he likes to hold your hand. It gives him a sense of comfort and giving soft squeezes is enough to make him smile and wash his worries away.

ꕥ Usually, puppeteers make their own puppets to perform with. Matthias would make puppet versions of you and himself to tell stories with. He would spend more time on your puppet than his to make you more beautiful/handsome. Pays attention to every detail of you, so if you see him staring at you it's because he wants to get everything detail correct.

ꕥ He knows how to sew and make you new clothes from time to time. Puts every thought into sewing and proudly shows off his new creations to you with bandaged hands from the number of times he poked himself with the sewing needle.

ꕥ Gift gives like a crow. Matthias finds a colorful or shiny rock and gives it to you. Please ask him why he gave you the small trinket, it would make his day to explain his love for you in a form of a rock.

ꕥ Words of affirmation! Hearing compliments and words of affirmation will make him melt. He's already nervous and happy to be around you. He loves your company even if you two are together in silence. A simple "I love it when you.." or "I love you" will make his heart skip a beat, multiple beats.

ꕥ Matthias loves you very much and is grateful that you're so patient and stay by his side. You have him absolutely smitten.

clinging to the only manor guest who makes you feel safe various idv charas + you (platonic)

for @ninacottoncandy

🦈✈️🧲🔗❤️‍🩹

Here are the reader's traits described in the original ask: You have grown really attached to them and won't let them go, following them like a lost duckling. They're the only one you act energetic around, while you're shy and scared around others. It's later revealed that you were neglected back home resulting in abandonment issues.

🦈 Leo

Leo sees something in you that he can't exactly pinpoint. Maybe you fill a loss that he's tucked into the crevasses of his memory. Maybe you represent a second chance at one of his lingering regrets. Whatever it is, he swears that no harm will come to you as long as he's around.

He sneaks you the universal passcode to the arms factory's exit gates, with instructions written in his messy scrawl: "Play the game. Do what they ask. Use for emergensy only." It's not the first time he's been punished for breaking the rules, but that's a trivial thing if it means protecting you.

Before your first game, he brings you a gift, a crude little thing that's obviously handmade. It's a miniature red-and-purple striped rocket chair made for dolls. You find it a little childish, but Leo attaches a story to it: "If bad guy catches you. 1, 2, 3, blast off. Trapped again."

That's a bit grim, but cute, you suppose. You're not sure why he gave it to you, though.

✈️ Charles

As a man of few words and a perpetual poker face, his fondness for you might not be that obvious. But he finds you terribly endearing. He doesn't mind having you in his shadow at all. It won't be long before he starts feeling very protective of you.

In an attempt to get closer to him, one day you ask to try out his jetpack. He's always tinkering with the thing, so he must have a lot to say about it, right? The moment you reach for it, something in Charles snaps, and with a panicked shout he knocks you off it before cradling his device tightly in his arms. With that look of abject terror in his eyes, one would think you were trying to murder his baby. You never thought it was even possible for him to raise his voice like that.

The truth is, he couldn't have cared less about the jetpack. He was worried about losing someone else to his faulty machine. The guilt for frightening you plagues him for weeks after. He dedicates the next few months to working on a device that stabilizes his hand tremors. Not for his own sake, but because he can't bear to disappoint you—he wants to build something safer for you to try, and needs a reliable hand to do it.

🧲 Norton

Finds it bothersome. He has an unspoken agreement with the rest of the manor to steer clear of each other, what’s not clicking for you? He doesn’t exactly radiate sunshine and rainbows. Why you got attached to him of all people is something he can’t wrap his head around.

He won’t go out of his way to talk to you, which you can consider a small mercy from him. If forced he’ll bluntly shut down the idea of being your “protector” or whatever role you’ve arbitrarily assigned to him. He’s not here to babysit anyone, especially not for free. Doesn’t matter what your story is.

It seems like the best way to win his favor is by giving him space. And start hoping he’ll warm up with time. With the manor's stretches of eternity in store for you, you can certainly spare the wait.

🔗 Ada & ❤️‍🩹 Emil

The first time you begin yearning for them remains clear in your memory. They're huddled together over the kitchen stove, morning sun filtering through the open window. Ada explains how to flip an omelette while Emil is paying more attention to her gentle hands than her technique. Once in a while their soft giggles rise above the sound of sizzling oil.

Watching them, suddenly you aren't at the manor anymore. You're in one of those big, bright two-story houses from the stories you read as a child, the ones with the perfect families and happy endings to every trouble that comes their way. Ada and Emil probably don't even realize how picture-perfect they look in this moment, how similar they are to the families you thought only existed once upon a time. Their love makes you jealous, but you crave it just as much.

Sharp as always, Ada is quick to notice you observing them. You fear a round of questioning but instead she says, "Good morning. Do you want something? How do you like your eggs?" and Emil pipes in a second later with "Onions okay?"

It's such a casual sentiment, but it takes you aback. Most manor guests aren't glowing examples of neighborly people, you've learned that the hard way. But your wishful thinking gets the better of you, so you play along. They bring out a plate of your breakfast and sit with you at the table. You remember thinking, even if they are tricking you and these eggs are poisoned and you never wake up again, it would be nice to go with this fairy tale family as your last memory. But you get to enjoy a delicious breakfast and the remaining hours of the day without issue.

The same thing happens the next morning, and the one after that.

Emil's prowess with the frying pan drastically improves as the days go by, and soon he starts waking up ahead of Ada to surprise her. Some days include you, with him gently nudging you out of bed, eager smile on his face as he teaches you all the cooking tricks Ada taught him. He also shows you a notepad he keeps, with lists titled: Ada favorites. Good food for a bad day. Restront menus (make at home). And a new addition: What (Y/N) likes.

My last post reminded me of a time I tried to make an idv themed otome game with some oomfs (it never went anywhere). It was specifically for the hunters but we had an honorary Norton route bc this is nortons world LOLL

This was in ~2019 so we had a quarter of the current roster, and no manor lore💀 I think we went with the idea that all the hunters are ghosts but for the sake of kissing them they could have temporary physical forms if they choose to. The heroine was a maid who's kinda lousy at her job but the hunters were sick of being trapped in this dusty musty roach motel so they hire her cos she's all that they can find 😔

Anyway. I was in charge of Wu's route and the premise was like -> only one of them can be out of their umbrella at a time -> they realized they could finally talk to each other again by leaving messages with her -> she was lowkey thirdwheeling whatever they had going on and got fed up so she started tampering with their messages -> accidentally made them both fall in love with her

LMFAOO

― interlude

norton campbell x you he finds you crying in your room out of anxiety

(this was requested here)

As you slip out of the manor’s ballroom, the sound of lively conversation follows behind you. Voices blend together the further you go, dulled by the winding hallways, and soon you can’t tell them apart anymore. Once in a while a hearty laugh will ring out, shrill and distinct above the rest—a laugh you can usually identify as Demi’s, her self-restraint long lost to copious glasses of wine.

By the time you reach your room upstairs, the chatter is still thrumming through the floorboards. That rhythm is all you can focus on: the pulse of the party, the drum of your heart. You shut your bedroom door behind you before sinking to the floor. All night you’ve felt like an anvil has been weighing down your spirit, and it’s finally snuffed out the last of your strength. With shaking fingers, you clutch your mouth and choke out a staggered gasp, no longer able to stifle your cries.

The manor’s walls are thin, you know that well. Maybe you should feel lucky that the party under your feet will drown out any noise you make. But you still feel the need to make yourself quiet as a ghost, afraid a single sound might hush the entire downstairs into curious silence. As if they’d be climbing over each other to press their ears against the ceiling, eager for a chance to hear the crying guest upstairs. But the party goes on, and your tears go unnoticed.

Time starts to blur in the dim confines of your room. You don’t care to count the minutes, but enough time passes that you rub your nose raw. Before long it starts to feel like you’re teetering on the edge of sleep: swaddled by the pitch-black room, with the neverending song of muffled laughter and clinking glasses as your lullaby. If you shut your eyes long enough, maybe you’ll really fall.

All of a sudden a foreign sound cuts through your haze. Heavy footsteps, like that of a pair of boots. As they drag down the hall your ears prick up, the entirety of your body freezing over. They trudge along slowly, then stop in front of your door.

It’s Norton. He doesn’t announce himself, but he doesn’t have to. You know it’s Norton from his weary gait and the faint whistle in his breath. He pushes open your door without bothering to knock first. It’s clear he’s not expecting anyone to be on the other side of it, because he loudly clicks his tongue when it jams into you, and keeps trying to force it. The wood thuds against your back a few times before he releases the knob with a scoff.

“It’s me,” he says, striking the door twice with the flat of his hand. “Move whatever’s blocking the door.” His knocks feel urgent, but careful. Even when pressed flush against the wood, you don’t feel the jolt of his usual aggression. Still, your eyes squeeze shut. There’s no strength left in you to muster an answer.

Norton himself isn’t what concerns you. It’s having to show him the state you’re in. He’ll have nothing sensitive to say about it, and you’re not in the right mind to brave through that callous indifference of his. Honestly, the thought of addressing anything feels utterly impossible. You’ve been holding your breath ever since his footsteps came trudging down the hall, wishing you could just disappear.

“(Y/N),” he presses.

I’m sorry, you think.

There’s nothing you can offer him that he wouldn’t be able to find at the party. It doesn’t matter what he wants or if you let him in—your answer won’t change from a mortified I can’t help right now, sorry I’m so useless. At least staying in here eliminates the need to say it to his face. He’ll get the memo eventually.

. . .

. . . .

. . . . . .

When you’re certain he’s not fussing with the door anymore, you lean back into it, waiting for the click! of its close. Then you exhale, shallow, shaky, but quiet still. The fresh air tastes sweet in your lungs. It’s your own fault for holding your breath so long, but you’ve never been kind to yourself, especially not in moments like these.

You decide to wait a few seconds before locking it. Every sound you make is another tick on the time bomb, after all. Counting down to what exactly, you wouldn’t know; that’s a detail you’d rather not uncover.

Right when you’ve decided enough time has passed and you fumble for the lock, the door bursts open again. The force catches you off guard, practically sweeping you across the floor, and Norton strides in before you have the chance to push him out again. His eyes lock on you, shadowed by the dark of your room.

It’s an odd, silent reunion. You almost feel like you’re in trouble for something. He doesn’t even greet you before he tears his gaze away, peeking around your bed and bookshelf. Perhaps he thought you’d snuck off with someone.

“N-No one else is in here,” you croak.

“Where are the matches?” he asks, brushing off whatever you were insinuating.

He digs around your drawer until he finds a matchbox, then lights your bedside candle. From your spot curled into your knees, you gaze at his large figure, backlit by the candlelight. You’re still not sure what he came in here for. Though Norton isn’t exactly known for his transparency, not even with you. While he’s occupied at your nightstand, you try to wipe the puffiness from your eyes. It still doesn’t stop the next wave of tears from welling up.

“I’m sorry…” you murmur. He glances over his shoulder, waving out the match.

“For what?”

For crying. For leaving. For shutting him out. But with your words failing you, all you can do is shake your head — ‘forget it’ — and nuzzle deeper into your knees. It’s embarrassing to be the only one who’s ever crying between you two. Norton closes off his heart so stubbornly that you can’t even imagine a tear in his eye. You’re sorry for that, too. For burdening him and not extending the same care in return.

He doesn’t say anything for a while. Stillness overtakes the room — with him standing by your bed, watching you; with you buried into yourself, soft sniffles leaking through. Finally you hear him approach. He crouches in front of you, bringing the candlestick holder with him.

“Hey.” His tone of voice always has a biting edge to it, even when he’s trying to be gentle. He takes your hands, guiding them away from your bloodshot eyes. “Stop crying.”

I’m trying.

“Why didn’t you come get me?”

You shake your head again. “I’m okay,” you insist between snivels. “You didn’t have to come up.”

What use is there in saying that? One look at you gives the truth away. Norton would never take the bait that easily. He reaches a hand for your cheek, wetting his thumb as a stray tear falls.

“You’re a lousy liar,” he says. His hand is warm. Rough, but warm. It tempts you to lean into it, to rest in its gentle hold for a little while. But even with him wide open in front of you, your lingering guilt anchors you in place. You meet his brown eyes, the flickering candlelight reflected within them. Come here, they say. You’re sure you’re just imagining it.

Seeming to sense your hesitation, Norton makes the decision for you. He scoops you up effortlessly, and as you’re raised into his arms another rush of tears floods through you. At the same time, the heaviness you felt before begins to lift. It’s as if you’ve finally been given permission to cry, no longer weighed down by the shame you felt previously. Or maybe you’re just too relieved to care about that now. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders.

“You never have to ask,” he murmurs to you. It’s a reminder you’ve ignored too many times before. He lays you gently on your bed, and you refuse to unhook your arms from around him. He slots himself beside you. You think you mumble out a reply, but you can’t remember what it was before the cloak of sleep comes over you.

I've been horribly sick lately TwT, would you be willing to write something for Luca or Andrew taking care of a sick reader s/o? Regardless, have a great day!

This situation is a lot worse for Andrew than Luca!

Andrew Kreiss

-Having lost his mother, the only good thing he had in early life, to sickness, so you falling ill would bring out a lot of panic and desperation. You're just about the only good thing he's got now, and he's not willing to go another round with fate or God or whoever about that. Worse if this is in the manor, because people don't get sick here.

-Andrew hardly gets a moment of rest when you're sick, even if it's only mild. Unfortunately, he's uneducated and inexperienced with caring for people, so most of the ways he tries to help are outdated home remedies that won't actually help much. Worse, perhaps, it would take a very strong will to say no to a man as panicked as Andrew is over your health. Nothing you say or do can soothe him, but taking whatever "cures" he offers will at least keep him from completely losing it. (If you're lucky, he might have some aspirin.)

-You'll be asked to gargle warm vinegar for a sore throat, drink so much tea and broth you'll be sick of them, take bath after bath with whatever herbs and oils he can get his hands on. It's hard to get proper rest with all his scrambling. In the manor, there's at least Emily's professional voice to reign him in. When he's not buzzing about you with cure after cure, he's sat right next to your bed, head bent with bitter prayers.

-By the time you're feeling better, he might be a little worse for wear. He spends so much of your sickness stressing, not sleeping, not eating, and it all catches up to him when you're back to normal.

-Trying to talk to him after you're better can lead to a myriad of results depending on where you are in your relationship, but it might be one of the best opportunities for him to tell you about his mother. Your relationship can only be stronger for that.

Luca Balsa

-Luca is concerned but tries to be more logical about this. Plenty of people fall ill and recover. If this happens in the manor, he doesn't jump to the worst conclusion. The manor's healing factor does have its limits, he reasons, so if it's something particularly nasty it may be possible for you to come down with it for a few days. But it always heals people up in the end, so you'll be fine.

-He's much more removed than Andrew his. Luca will help you get comfortable in bed with all your basics taken care of. (Tea, a cold wrap, maybe some snacks.) Then, if feasible, set someone more qualified to taking care of you. In the manor, this means Emily, of course.

-Luca will pop back in to check on you a few times throughout the day, but mostly he carries on with his own work until someone tells him there's cause for more serious concern. You're in good hands.

-If you're not contagious, he might lay down with you for a while. But otherwise, Luca's health isn't great due to his previous injuries and him being underweight, so it's best for him to keep his distance. Whatever you've come down with has a good chance of hitting him harder, if he picks it up.

-Once you're feeling better, he's prepared to smother you in kisses to make up for him having to stay away more.

A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night

Identity(V) Headcanons: Victor Grantz

Don't mind me, I just love him

-Victor’s biggest struggle in life is his crippling social anxiety. He’s a kind-hearted individual with a lot of empathy, but he’s deeply wounded by the pattern of abandonment he’s had in life (his mother, his uncle, any friends he made in school…) and as a result he’s one of the slowest in the manor to give true trust. He’s terrified of letting people in just to be abandoned again, and he doesn’t trust spoken words easily, so he simply avoids meeting people directly as much as possible. Promises, especially, make him feel gut-wrenching distrust for the one making them.

-(That said, Victor views keeping secrets as a promise of his own. One that others may not know he’s keeping, but a promise for their privacy nonetheless.)

-He believes people are more authentic when they don’t know they’re being observed, be it in-person or on paper. Victor doesn’t trust himself to accurately read someone’s tone or body language up close anymore—he becomes blinded by fear, and sometimes hope, so he takes things at face value even if it’s to his detriment--but he’s good at reading between written lines and gauging things from a distance. In this sense, he’s a decent judge of character. He’s a people-watcher both for enjoyment and to build himself a sense of security around others. (Though, sometimes this leads people to think he’s a bit of a creep, which makes him feel terrible.)

-All that said, Victor does not wish harm on anyone. He’s afraid of cruelty, not just for himself, but for anyone. And this is where his empathy comes in—he really, truly wants for the world and the people in it to be better. If he thinks there’s a chance of helping someone improve, he’s willing to help. If he thinks there’s a chance of saving someone from a painful death in a match…he’s willing to risk himself to see them through. He has some of the lowest pain tolerance in the manor, which is especially surprising to learn when you consider he’s among the most willing to rush into danger to help someone. (I mean he ran into a burning building to save a dog....)

-Ironically, Victor is very big on communication in the relationships he does build. When he finally gets close with someone, he’s not keen on losing them to misunderstanding or misplaced expectations, so he needs an open line—and patience—at all times. He still prefers letters to face-to-face conversation, however, so serious conversations can take a long time to sort through. (This goes for a modern setting, too. I know people think texting can be disingenuous, but Victor gets too stressed with face-to-face conversations and he prefers to have the time to think over and give a thought-out response that isn’t influenced by anxiety or fear.)

-He’s fit from all his walking, but doesn’t have much in the way of muscle. In fact, he’s on the soft side, especially in his arms and stomach area. He makes for a very cozy cuddle buddy, and he’s honestly one of the best huggers in the manor. (If he’s comfortable with the person, that is.)

-Personally, I feel like he’d be bit of a foodie. He’s not a picky eater and always happy to try new foods. (Though, while he doesn’t restrict himself from meat, he prefers fruit & veg.) If whatever he’s eating is dog-safe, he also likes to share bits and pieces of stuff with Wick.

-His preferred Love Languages to give are Acts of Service and Quality Time. To receive, he likes Words of Affirmation and Quality Time. In short, he wants to spend as much time with his loved ones as he possibly can. He doesn’t need you to do things for him because he’s used to taking care of himself, but he does like to receive sweet words (verbal or written) so he knows how much you love and value him! (That may sound counterintuitive given his suspicion for promises and sweet words…but by the time you’re close enough for love languages to matter, he’s gotten over most of those hurdles with you.)

-He’s a bit of a goofball! He’s anxious enough that it doesn’t come out for most people, but he does enjoy a good, silly time. He gets along well with Memory and Emma, for example.

-Victor talks with Wick a lot. Not out loud, or even in writing, just in his head. Social anxiety can get lonely, and having a cute doggy face to put half of his internal dialogue to helps bury those feelings…at least for a little while.

Which characters do you think are more 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 in bed and which ones do you think are normal

I hate to be that person, but what are we considering to be "freaky"? Is choking freaky? A foot fetish? or are you talking about something heavier like dubcon roleplay? There are a LOT of kinks out there. Are we going off specific kinks lending into the freaky title, or is it like the freakiness scales based on the NUMBER of kinks the characters have? Anyway here's a few thoughts.

Under the cut for kinks discussion

There's Jack, but I don't even really wanna talk about him. He's probably the worst of the worst. Or the best, I guess, if you're into that...

Florian has some more manic behaviours, and he's really enthusiastic about meeting your hopes and expectations. Most kinks are fine with him, even if he doesn't have them himself, and he's willing to work with you to play them out in some fashion. Mess doesn't bother him at all, though he is a bit impatient. Things that require a lot of prep and setup might not survive long enough to be repeat uses in the bedroom. (ex. shibari, anal with him receiving) He draws a line at scat, heavy blood play, and certain types of roleplay. (Don't ever ask him to be a "villain.")

Fool's Gold is all the worst parts of Norton wrapped up into a sloppy, egotistical package. He enjoys anything that lets him control or degrade his partner, be that a leash, some harsh words, or even just his powerful grip. (There's some risk of dubcon here, because I don't think he's the type to believe in 'changing your mind' once you're in the swing of things.) And he doesn't care if you walk away with bruises--if you can even walk at all. He expects you to know what you're getting into if you come to him, and as long as he gets his rocks off (heh.) he's pleased.

Aesop is freaky by our standards, but in his own mind he's barely participating. And that's how he likes it. He's fine with restraining and gagging you, using toys and drugs on you (with consent of course), he'll loan you out to others to fuck so you can get your satisfaction--and he'll stay to watch, if you really beg him to.

Orpheus is a mix of Florian and Aesop. He has very few boundaries and enjoys praise and degradation going both ways. Pain and confusion are also fine and dandy, in moderation, and he's not above opening that ominous cabinet of substances. He can also be a very sweet and gentle lover, though. He's a man of many faces, as we all know.

Luchino has no issues being heavy-handed in the bedroom. He knows his own strength, as well as his partner's limits, and can safely toe the line without crossing. He will happily spank, choke, pin, and throw you around. Similarly, he's not interested in heavier blood or injury play, but he doesn't think earning a few marks during sex is a mood-killer at all. Roleplay isn't really up his alley, but if you want to pretend and just need him to call you some name or other (pet, maid) to make it work, that's fine.

Ithaqua, surprisingly, is not that bad. But I'm putting him on here as an honorable mention. He can be a rougher lover, but other than that the kinkiest thing about him is sometimes he wants people to hear you moaning for him. Let them KNOW what he does to you--but they can't see you. Then he'd have to kill them.

Sweet Victor is quite vanilla. He likes a bit of roleplay in the bedroom, but it's low-effort and lighthearted. He's more of a "make love" than "fuck" kinda guy.

Joseph likes to record, and he likes mirrors, but otherwise he's also pretty vanilla and romantic.

Andrew is too anxiety-ridden for anything too complicated or kinky. (Though he does sometimes have an authoritative air to him.) I've been meaning to write the scene, but Andrew 100% has a panic attack during his first sexual encounter.

Ganji is a simple man. He likes to feel pleasure, not pain, and delivers the same.

Matthias is also jittery, nervous, and leans towards the vanilla 9 times out of 10. He may have a few deeply-hidden humiliation kinks that stem from uncomfortable experiences in his past. A controlled environment to heal with re-experince, and what have you.

How Do They Decode?

Just a little question I mused about for the survivors today.

“Gee, these machines don’t seem to be holding up very well. How can we help them along, so we can GET OUT before they GIVE OUT?”

In other words, the way I see it, ciphers could process on their own, but the issue is that they’re in terrible shape. So, to get them working again, we have three options, one for each side of the cipher a character can use!

Front. Decoding Manually. Who Needs a Glorified Typewriter to Calculate for You?

Emily, Freddy, Lucky Guy, Kurt, Tracy, Helena, Fiona, Margaretha, Eli, Aesop, Norton, Patricia, Jose, Victor, Luca, Melly, Edgar, Ada, Orpheus, Memory, Luchino, Frederick, Alice, Evelyn

Side. Adjusting and Fixing. Just Keep This Hunk of Junk from Falling Apart, and Let Electricity Do the Rest!

Emma, Lucky Guy, Servais, Naib, Tracy, Vera, Kevin, Eli, Norton, Jose, Demi, Luca, Anne, Orpheus, Joker, Qi, Charles, Matthias, Florian

Back. Beat the Cipher Like it Stole Your Lunch Money. Why Not?

Andrew, Memory, Kreacher, Lucky Guy, Naib, William, Vera, Kevin, Norton, Murro, Patricia, Mike, Edgar, Ganji, Emil, Luchino, Lily, Matthias, Florian

A few commentaries:

-Memory is just a child, so in practice she doesn’t know much about these ciphers and will resort to just kinda shaking and smacking them. However, she’s also a creation from Orpheus’s mind, so his education and inclinations show up in her too sometimes, and this is when she’ll type and calculate.

-Helena has memorized a keyboard layout, but doesn’t exactly know what each part on the cipher does and isn’t violent enough to be smacking at it, so she only types.

-Aesop isn’t the best typer, but he doesn’t like getting his hands covered in the cipher’s grease nor does he want any bruises from roughhousing it.

-Lucky Guy is highly adaptable and can fill in wherever he’s needed on a cipher. Norton is similar, though he does prefer adjusting from the side to typing.

-Luchino is primarily a typer, but sometimes, when his stress is high enough or he’s used enough of that serum, his instincts take over and he rages on the ciphers a bit. -Andrew, William, Murro, and Emil have no clue what these machines are or how they work, just that they NEED to work. And you know what? Beating the fuckall out of them seems to be doing the trick well enough.

minor writing smut , hand kink [?]

Luca whose hands are, to put it plainly, dirty. Oil and grease can be found underneath his fingernails from the constant work on the cipher machine, while dirt finds its way in the cracks and slivers on his palms.

Luca whose hands are littered with small cuts and scars from the electricity that bolts through him, refusing to settle down for even one moment before another currency charges through his body.

Luca who uses these same hands to worship your god like body in front of him. His fingers, smeared with black from being burnt poke and prod at the curves and blemishes on your body. The inventor finds it all so incredible how you let his hands, stained with blood, find your most sensitive area. How you let his hands gift you the pleasure you oh so deserve. And how you let him witness your fall into pleasure all over again.

note: consider this my apology for the lack of a proper fic lately, things have been busy. I’m working on two right now, and I hope to get them both out in the coming weeks.!

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

hooked in. fished out.

_ ★₊˚﹟⛮ 'w7ylxn on Pinterest , all characters belong to Netease.

male survivors.

THE PROSPECTOR.

"TRUST IN ME!" (gn!reader)

⤷ a moment in time where you said "I trust you." to them.

THE BATTER.

"TRUST IN ME!" (gn!reader)

⤷ a moment in time where you said "I trust you." to them.

GANJI GUPTA HEADCANONS. (gn!reader)

⤷ ganji gupta h/c's.

WIPE YOUR TEARS, DOLL. (gn!reader)

⤷ a fic about a reader who feels undeserving of love and their boyfriend does his best to make them feel better.

CAPTIVATED BY U! (gn!reader)

⤷ a 'what if' led you to where you are today, but the horrors don't stop there when a particular Batter takes more of a liking to you than comfortable.

THE MERCENARY.

"TRUST IN ME!" (gn!reader)

⤷ a moment in time where you said "I trust you." to them.

WIPE YOUR TEARS, DOLL. (gn!reader)

⤷ a fic about a reader who feels undeserving of love and their boyfriend does his best to make them feel better.

THE ACROBAT.

EVERYTHING (I THOUGHT) WE WERE. (gn!reader)

⤷ rumors spread , and gossip only flourishes. what’re the whispers saying now?

THE PAINTER.

AN ARTISTS GLORY. (gn!reader)

⤷ how to befriend other artists no borax easy /ref

DATE NITE! (gn!reader)

⤷ how does their perfect date go with you?

THE COMPOSER.

DATE NITE! (gn!reader)

⤷ how does their perfect date go with you?

THE NOVELIST.

DATE NITE! (gn!reader)

⤷ how does their perfect date go with you?

male hunters.

FOOLS GOLD.

ROCK HARD! (gn!reader)

⤷ sex h/c’s w/ Fools Gold.

THE NIGHT WATCH.

TO THE STARS ABOVE. (gn!reader)

⤷ b-day fic for @/rieuvie , Ithaqua wishes you a happy birthday.

IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT. (gn!reader)

⤷ in the dead of night , Ithaqua will always be around [for you].

THE PHOTOGRAPHER.

JUSTICE (gn!reader)

⤷ sex w/ Joseph's "Justice" skin. [he's got a savior complex]

~

female survivors.

THE JOURNALIST.

CAMERA SHUTTER. (afab!fem!reader)

⤷ sex h/c’s with Alice DeRoss.

UNWANTED AUDIENCE. (gn!reader)

⤷ performing for everyone means just that, performing for all despite your own personal opinion. your shows have put all eyes on you, even unwanted ones.

female hunters.

n/a [for now]

updated: 06/12/24

Something meh I wrote for luca, def not my best work due to stress lol

Rated Explicit | Warning: oral (reader receiving), light (very) electro stimulation

Silence. Late evening it usually is quiet in the dormitory area of the manor. The occasional sound of Luca tinkering though but nothing else. Dark and silent, you creep towards the door before you go still in front of the door. He told you if you ever could not sleep, you could join him in his room.

Usually, you stay there listening to him work. The ambiance of an inventor at work is rather soothing and amusing when shouts “Ow!” when he messes up a wire or two. Luca is tenacious and ambitious, though he does not remember much and often forgets to the point he has to journal everything important, he is like the spark of electricity fighting to find a connection.

Currently, though, he is not working when you come to visit. After an intense match with the new hunter Ivy, he had just finished bathing and greeted you with only his pajama pants on, hair wet, and for the first time, you see the scars of what electricity can do to the body.

The Decoder lets you in though it is inappropriate given his both lack of clothing and how late it is, something you both never cared about like some others do.

He sits on his bed and resumes drying his hair with a damp towel, idle chatter as you sit on the poorly maintained couch. It is not uncomfortable but definitely has seen better days. You lay on it while talking, him keeping the conversation going as you expect of a former aristocrat.

Though he was from a family of wealth, and clearly educated, you never felt how you do around Frederick or Edgar… Uncomfortable. The sort of peacock-ness air about them that often makes you not acknowledge even when waiting for a match. In the matches, of course, you help but post you are immediately getting away from them. Luca does not give you that feeling and maybe it is because he has “fallen from grace” sort of speak, or maybe he is just likable.

“You stare a lot these days.” Teasing, he likes to flirt when in the mood.

“Can't help it,” As your eyes shift to his face, “Does It hurt?”

He looks at his chest, his eyes staring hard, “It gets irritated but not so much hurting.” Then looking up, then pointing at the table near the couch, “Those usually help.” Bandages with a bottle next to them.

“Can I help?”

“If you want, you don't have to.” The shyness is unlike him yet you figure it is because no one has seen him like this.

It was unexpectedly intimate, you did anticipate being so close to him using the ointment and applying the bandages would create a new situation. You have been close to both dancing, patching each other during matches, hell, sharing the same bed when you both could not sleep. It was like you are seeing the vulnerable Luca Balsa, not the inventor but a man who is fragile and lost trying to achieve something beyond himself.

When you kiss him it is funny the shock of low-grade electricity that zaps you both, the laughter is sweet and silly.

Luca does not want that to end the moment he has thought of for many days and is trying to build the nerve to get here. He ushers you lay on the bed, his thin frame on top of you. The partly wet brown hair is like curtains blocking your peripheral vision, you can only see Luca and his smiling face. Kissing your lips, face, neck, and a few hickeys on the way down to your chest; the second to remove your shirt before he is on you again.

By the time he is between your legs, your body feels a buzz from his uncontrollably electrical minor shocks and his skillful hands and mouth. Your hands in his messy hair gripping it with one hand as your other hand grips the pillow behind your head.

Tie A Yellow Ribbon Luca x GN Reader

Genre: Fluff

Keep reading

Hellooooooooo I love your Matthias headcanons <3

I think about this man way too often, but I wanted to share my random thoughts with you.

When I look at him, I want to pepper his face with kisses and leave him covered with lipstick marks. I wish I could hold his hands and help him bandage them up, kissing his fingertips and telling him he's perfect.

My hopeless romantic self wish nothing more than to hold him close in the dead of the night, sway beneath the moonlight with only us and a hummed melody as our witness.

Thank you for reading and take care mwah <3

oh !!! I GET IT ANON...... I GET ITTTTTT KISSES UR BRAIN 😖♡ WE LOVE A MAN IN RUIN

His moments with you are as tender as they are foreign to him-- sometimes he's sure he'll wake up the next day only to discover he dreamed it all up

You're too good to me, he thinks, musing about the way you barged into his heart head-on, too good for me. Your love reminds him again and again that he can let his eyes close and fall into you without worrying that any of it might slip away. But that voice in the back of his head is stubborn in keeping him wary of it.

Imagine those long, slow embraces together . . 🥴🥴💓 in his arms you can feel the weight of all those years of grieving for someone's touch

i love this so much I'm gonna die

Hi there!! Can I req a Matthias x reader where the reader is very nice yet shy, and Matthias fell for their kindness but is afraid to confess cause he might lose them(who's the first and only person to show him genuine care)?

(But he's also bad at hiding his feelings)

Or maybe a scenario where he has a difficult time sleeping and finds himself impulsively knocking on your door— regretful of his actions but he can't back out now that you're standing in front of the open door, curious from the unexpected visit.

He's a new char so I hardly find any fics about him and I'm desperate💔 you can change the scenario!! I'm really just desperate uehdhsishd(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

hi anon i LOVED these ideas! i tried to combine both of them into one, i hope it satisfies what you wanted!! ♡

falling slowly 🪡

Matthias isn’t one to act on impulse.

He’ll let his thoughts fester aimlessly inside him, hoping the darker among them someday fizzle out. He’ll watch precious chances fly past him, fearing the consequences of a risk taken too rashly. A missed opportunity is better than another tragedy. A guarded mind is better than a broken heart. But some restless nights drive him to desperation, and tonight that leads him to you.

He stands outside your bedroom door, arms stiff against his sides. He’s passed by this room countless times before, as the two of you occasionally walk each other back to your rooms. But never has he come here on his own, never without explicit permission.

He gingerly raises his hand, letting it hover above your doorframe. All of a sudden, he loses his words. What would he say? I can’t sleep, I need you to check for monsters under my bed? I need you to stay with me until I fall asleep? I need you to tuck me in? What a baby. He can already picture the look you’d send him: a smile that’s trying too hard to be polite, a shabby effort at concealing the judgment within. You wouldn’t turn him down directly, even though he knows you’d want to. Kindhearted people love to dance in circles before saying anything that might offend. He’s all too familiar with this game. Normally, your kindness is something he loves about you, but all he can do now is curse it under his breath. If only you were crueler to him, like most people are, then he wouldn’t have let his hopes inflate his head. He would’ve known never to even consider stopping by your room. He would’ve known to avoid this situation altogether.

His fingers close into a fist, and it’s then he realizes he’s quivering slightly. Louis wouldn’t have a problem in this scenario. That thought piques Matthias most. His “factory defect” has locked him in place yet again, and all he can do is swallow down the reminder of his incompetence. It’s just a door, for God’s sake.

He flexes his fingers one last time, glancing around as if worried someone might catch him. Then he strikes his fist. It’s a clumsy motion, rattling your door on its hinges, and his heart leaps to his throat. A courteous knock would have three raps or so, not the jarring thud! he made — nobody in their right mind would imagine that’s a welcome visitor, right? Especially not at this snake’s pit of a manor. He prays desperately for you to ignore that ever happened. In your position, he’d pretend to be asleep, maybe double-check that the door is properly locked. Surely you’d do the same.

Surely...?

“It’s open!” greets your voice from inside, entirely unconcerned.

Matthias holds his breath. Why are you leaving your door unlocked at this hour? But he tucks that thought away while he stares down at the doorknob. This is it — he’s trapped. If he turns around now, you’ll be left with unresolved fears of someone lurking around your room at night. Nothing could entice him to do that to you. And if you ever found out it was him? It’d be too late for apologies, and definitely not forgiveness. Right, so he has to answer.

Slowly, he cracks it open a fraction, afraid of peering anywhere but the ground.

“You can come in,” you urge. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. Footsteps shuffle around inside, then the door fully swings open. “Oh, hi Matthias! What’s up?”

He only meets your face briefly, at your bright and curious eyes, before his gaze flicks back downward.

“Uh… sorry to bother you, I just…” He awkwardly grasps at his elbows, struggling to string together his intentions. “…I need you.”

. . . . .

There it is. His secret is out. He didn’t mean to let it slip, but that single phrase had been bouncing endlessly around his mind, as if they were the only words he knew. It’s the one thing he can confidently admit: he needs you. He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate. In fact, he’s certain you don’t. Nobody in their right mind would. That’s why he never ventured to say these words before. So when you respond to him with patient silence, as if waiting for him to continue, the entirety of his body freezes over. Maybe only a few seconds pass in reality, but that’s more than enough time for Matthias to fill the gaps. It’s a no — he knows it’s a no.

Your head tips slightly. “Sure, what do you need?”

The whirlwind in his mind slows to a halt. He remembers how he used to cough up excuses on the spot when trying to avoid you—sometimes you’d invite him for a meal or game of cards together, and he had convinced himself those were pity invites so he tended to reject them upfront. It stings less to avoid someone altogether than to endure feeling ‘tolerated’ instead of ‘wanted.’ But now he’s wracking his brain for an excuse to stay.

“I—I just wanted to see you.” It’s not a lie, but for some reason it feels like one.

“Me?” A look of surprise flashes on your face, warmth blooming across your chest. That might be the most forward thing you’ve ever heard from him. Stepping closer, you reach for his forearm, peering up into his face to better examine his strained features. Your free hand reaches up to brush aside the limp strands of hair shrouding his face. “Did something happen? It’s almost midnight—I mean, I don’t mind, it’s just so unexpected…”

The strength falls from Matthias’ shoulders. Out of relief, maybe. Or maybe it’s to brace himself for one last leap of faith.

“Can I stay with you…?” His voice is barely audible. You search his lone eye, staring back at you in its perfect hollowness. At some point, that blank stare has become a comforting sight for you. Your hand trails from his arm to spread across his shoulder. He remains motionless.

“Okay,” you say, softly. “Always.”

As you move to wrap both arms around his neck, you notice his body tense, and his brows furrow, subtly, in a clear attempt not to let you notice. The strain on his face catches you off-guard.

“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” Immediately, you pull back to search his expression.

“N-No, nothing—keep going.”

This time, it’s Matthias who draws you close. His arms weave their way around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. His face burrows into your shoulder, and it’s then you understand the weight of his visit, of his need for you. All you can do is lift a tender hand to ruffle his hair, feeling his pounding heart ease in your arms.