#idv.writing

You weren't mad.

Well, a little derangement never hurt anyone, and it can be argued that it gives you a little flare, but you were definitely another kind of mad.

Filled with a rage so palpable it burned hot under your skin.

They had gotten to him. Your beloved Finsen, gone; the one they deemed evil with their poisonous tales, masking their effervescent rot by magnifying and distorting his own.

Finsen was gentle compared to those beasts. The dentist’s swamp? absolute nonsense! why be afraid of a swamp when every person that spouted rumours of the same dentist possessed a mouth of a venomous snake.

They bit into your beloved, and you weren't able to get to him in time.

Even now, as you peered in the strangely desolate hospital, usually housing patients in every bed but now bare except for the few staff that remained — which sadly, your Finsen was not amongst, and this time you truly did wish he was.

You stood rooted to your spot for a while. You hadn't even realised you were crying, not with the rain already rolling off your soaking body, but even with the discomfort bleeding into you, you couldn't bring yourself to move.

The pedestrians, the remaining ones at this time of night, all gazed at you with unnerved looks. Dazed, you finally tear your eyes away from Sacred Heart Hospital; ironic, because your heart, only freshly found, wasn't even in it anymore.

The cold nipped at your viscera, sending painful chills through your body, but the ache in your chest was far more noticeable than anything else you felt.

With steps that felt weighted by lead, you mindlessly wandered into the swamp they had so cruelly dragged him into.

Even as the murky water stained your socks and swallowed up your shoes, you continued your trek — feet running on autopilot, retracing the very steps you took the previous days before.

You never found the exact place they took him to, and perhaps that's what kept feeding you false hope of his survival.

Soon, you found yourself at one of the only well-lit areas of the swamp. The moon shone on you like a spotlight, painting a morose portrait of longing.

Even as the acrid earthy smell of the swamp imposed on your senses, you couldn't bring yourself to leave just yet. You should've been afraid really, but you couldn't care enough to be with him out of the picture.

He motivated you to get better; constantly participating in his phototherapy helped you, dragging you out of the mental depths that kept pulling you farther and farther in.

As his patient, you should have kept it professional, but he drew you out of your hellish swamp and into the warmth of his own. Even if it resulted in drowning, you'd let yourself get pulled deeper in.

You stood until your legs ached, until all the fireflies left. Perhaps you had stopped caring for your physical state for a little too long because eventually, your body felt like it was collapsing.

The tree bark felt rough against your skin as you pushed yourself back against the nearest tree; you swore that amidst your more lucid moments, you could hear the trees laughing. Well that's not possible now isn't it? unless you were actually losing yourself.

But who were you to ponder as you fell into an unwilling slumber — someone could attest that it was a slumber and not death, no matter how much you looked like a corpse.

He was certain you were alive, because it was through his lens that he witnessed your survival.

Even as the townspeople whispered about your disappearance in the near future, about how not even the dentist’s devotee was spared from his wrath.

Even with one limb rendered mostly immobile, Finsen carried you. He attempted his best not to jostle you whilst your head laid on his shoulder, but he couldn't delay your treatment any further.

Even as a dead corpse himself, his temperature felt nearly the same as yours.

Heterochromatic eyes gazed down at your face, trained on the dark circles under your eyes — the ones that a few weeks ago, had already lightened through your joint efforts. Your skin, your overall complexion, and most certainly your psyche, had probably relapsed.

‘Their progress has been rendered to nothing’ he sighed gravely, tightening his hold around your frail body. Months of improvement gone, and all that under less than a month. He bit back the curse fighting its way out of his throat, gritting his teeth.

He no longer breathed, he had no heartbeat, but all his emotions and motivations remained. For what it was worth, he still felt for you.

Even if what he felt for you partly encompassed a deeply rooted obsession that couldn’t be pulled out, stemming from the desire to be needed or even desired for just his presence. No matter if it resembled the cavity-ridden teeth he often extracted, he wouldn't do the same — this was beneficial, why would he rid himself of something that made him feel more alive, more grounded.

They called you cursed, simplifying you and boxing you into the label of sick and infectious, even when you were not at all contagious. In fact, wouldn’t it be more fitting to label them as such, with how vile their existence is.

His eyes, infected as they are, are still able to see you as you are, and so, he witnesses the telltale signs of your nightmares. With a gaze bearing the fondest and most affectionate gaze he's ever had, a tentacle caresses your cheek, slowly smoothing out your distressed expression. “Shh, rest well my dear, we'll be home soon.” he rasped out.

He'd bring you to his hidden residence, he still needed to tend to you and ensure that you recover properly after all. Only after you recovered would he finally accept the invitation from the deep.

You wouldn't refuse, in fact, you'd likely get upset if he insisted on going alone. He'd loathe to see that expression on your face, so he'd oblige.

𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐒

"Il est beau" Joseph muttered under his breath, onyx eyes gleaming under the old fashioned chandelier of the manor's living room. He could only admire you for so long until you noticed, your head snapping in his direction, tilting towards your left inquisitively.

Joseph coughed into his gloved hand, an elegant and practiced smile gracing his face, sheepishness barely visible to those that didn't know him—had he been alive, he would've been blushing. "What book are you reading amour?" he questioned, not wanting to explain why he was once again caught watching you like a moron. You shook your head, eyes smiling as you showed him the front cover of the book. Joseph sat down beside you, leaning over slightly to trace the engraved title. 'The book appears to be of Japanese origin', he guessed, unfamiliar with the letters used.

"Would it trouble you if I asked of you to read this book to me?" he inquired in a hushed tone, peering into their unnaturally coloured irises. It was a lighthearted request, one he had been withholding for a while; He knew that if he were to ask, you would not hesitate to indulge him, he know that only he had the privilege to hear your voice, to see your smile, to hear you laugh. Your voice was a treasure to him, one that meant you trusted him.

Your broad shoulders shook with a silent chuckle, nodding at the French aristocrat. You stood from your seat on the couch, holding out a hand for the photographer to hold. You departed, walking side-by-side towards his room. He traced patterns into your warm skin; Had he not known you were a demon, he would've taken you for a human, but he supposes it was unnatural for him, a dead man, to possess a heart that beats once more.

he gifts you kimonos of high quality, as well as a few traditional japanese treats (he asked miss Geisha)

hums lullabies to you on nights where any sound a level higher than average incites anxiety and fear within you—like he used to do so with claude back then

often takes pictures of you, ones that appreciate every little bit of you: the parts you like and don't like are all of the highest form of beauty in his eyes

aids you in maintaining and caring for yourself: if you have long hair, he combs through it every day at least three times. he also takes care of your nails—they grow rapidly, so he has to trim them pretty often so you don't injure yourself

he enjoys watching you perform tea ceremonies when you both have afternoon tea together—on occasions when it's cloudy and dark outside

he's asked Geisha about japanese etiquette on numerous occasions as to not disrespect you

he prides on the fact that only he has heard your voice within the manor

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐏 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋

Aesop was a social recluse, he had just so happened to encounter you in the main hall of the manor during one of the rare occasions of his person leaving the comfort of his room. He had never expected a hunter—let alone someone as beautiful as you—to send one of the kindest "smiles" in his direction; He felt as if the kindness conveyed through your eyes alone brought a touch of colour to the monochrome life he had lived through until that very moment.

Months later, he had received the highest privilege he could have ever wished for: calling you his beloved. You, who was already one with what could be called "eternal rest", the you who claimed to be deceased and yet showed more life than those of which who still had blood pumping through their very veins.

Before meeting you, he could only see beauty in the act of dying. He finds you, the love of his life, to be the one thing in his life that remains untouched by outside principles he's been taught.

He ponders deeply as you grace him with a smile, one not hidden away behind a piece of bamboo. 'Was this the love my mother talked about?', the question remained unanswered, and yet despite that, he could say with confidence that he loves you. But, would he really remain by your side until the end of time? he's only a mortal after all.

he tends to spend his time outside more often because of you—away from prying eyes at the very least, during the night

he adores the way you look at him, how could you look at him with such fondness—such care—such a doting gaze on the likes of him?

he doesn't know how to comfort people, but he tries for you; he combs through your hair gently, letting you lay on his chest

aesop tends to sleep at the same time as you, if you stay up, he can too, if you sleep early, he sleeps early too

he sometimes traces over the lovely patterns left on your skin that were caused by the experiment, always tells you about how beautiful you are with them too

he adores your voice, considers it a blessing to hear you speak

for some reason, you are drawn to warmth. so he becomes used to physical touch, the reason being one, wanting to be closer to you and two, because you are akin to a reptile and he is your 'heating pad'

avoids bringing up the topic of death with you, he knows you think of it as unpleasant, so why would he go out of his way to displease you?

𝐗𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐈'𝐀𝐍 & 𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐔𝐉𝐈𝐔

Upon meeting you, they never could have anticipated that you were such... a bright soul. Had you never had told them, they never would've thought that you weren't a mortal. You seemed more human than most of them, the only indicators of you being of a different species were your eyes—such a colour could never belong to a human—and your souvenirs from the scientists that performed experiments on you.

You were an incredibly gentle soul, cowering upon meeting them initially. Wujiu quickly learned that speaking softly with you was a must if he wished to befriend you. They learned that being patient with you was the key to getting close to one of the most sincere individuals in their lifetime.

Bi'an and Wujiu were enamoured by you, there was only such a small amount of individuals capable of conversing or even interacting with them since they normally kept to themselves. You had wormed yourself into their lives, seeking solace within the small world of the umbrella the two souls choose to reside in.

With you, their closed off world gained unimaginable amounts of colour that completely erased any trace of mundanity from their daily cycle of life. Change isn't a welcome occurrence for some individuals, but they couldn't help but be eternally thankful for your arrival in their lives.

wujiu makes his voice softer and more quiet with you

bi'an often dotes on you with physical touch (he knows it comforts you if it's done by people you're close to)

most of the time they have outside of matches is spent with you

if your hair is long, they both enjoy caring for your hair—using up so many hours on just pampering you in general

they both tend to worry about the state of your teeth—does it not hurt to bite on the bamboo for so long?

when taking strolls outside and it's not completely dark, their umbrella comes in handy! they shield you from any light that could possibly hit you—even if you say it's not "fatal", it still hurts you do just accept their treatment

you three have matching kimonos, matching in pattern but each in your own colpur palettes

𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐙

you handle kids so well, he thinks it's so charming

you're the entire package, you can even cook well !

it's funny because you, weirdly enough, fuss over the hunters as well

"Mr. Hastur! please stay for a while, you must be tired after your match, please have some of this stew that I made, I hope it's to your taste" you offered, pulling him by his sleeve towards the large couch made for hunters. The Eldritch god didn't dare oppose, knowing you only wished to aid him in feeling well. Though, he couldn't say the same for the survivors gawking at you, their faces said it all, 'You idiot! he can kill you with one swipe and you still decide to go near him?!?!'—admittedly, he found it odd as well, but it's not like you allowed any of them—yes, them to refuse.

everyone either sees you as wifey material, a parent figure, or an older sibling: he just thought you were a parent figure to most people

𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐁 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐑

he finds it endearing, yet amusing at the same time

you remind him of his mother when you fret over him and everyone else, except you're a version that came from heaven itself

he loves it when you cook for him

you cook a LOT for him, knowing his appetite

imagine seeing a survivor telling off a hunter because they didn't finish their food, rather bizarre don't you think? he won't say that out loud though

Naib stifled his laughter behind his closed fist, eyes fixated on the scene of you forcefully spoon-feeding Mary carrots. "I don't care if you were a high ranking noble previously or if you're older than me! that does not mean you are dismissed from eating vegetables just because you dislike them" you berated the hunter, handing her a cup of water. Mary hesitantly chewed the carrot, imaginary tears in the corners of her eyes as she fought the urge to throw up. "Don't worry, I'll give you your favourite dessert if you manage to finish your vegetables" you comforted, smiling at her.

everyone either sees you as wifey material, a parent figure, or an older sibling: mf just didn't care much abt you until you began to dote on him as well

𝐄𝐋𝐈 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊

he thinks it's lovely !

he rlly wants a family with you :((

his brainrot is finally having one with you

eli often assists you in caring for the kids, especially robbie; the hunter is a bit cheeky and hard to handle, similar to other kids his age

"Eli! hand me a towel, Robbie is dripping water all over the carpet!" you hollered, running around frantically in search for "Memory", the other child that so graciously decided to join the little undead boy in playing in rain. Eli could only smile fondly as he wrapped the towel around the hunter, "They're losing their head again" he joked, drawing out amused giggles from the hunter. Eli guided towel-clad Robbie towards the bathroom, looking back once more to see you carrying a towel-covered "Memory".

everyone either sees you as wifey material, a parent figure, or an older sibling—he "saw" you as his one and only

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋

you're so sweet to kids and yet you nag him like his own mother

"¿Mi madre resucitó de entre los muertos?" (Did my mother rise from the dead?) Norton deadpanned, nearly regretting his decision of baiting the hunter away so his team would be able to open the exit gate. "You really need to be more careful, what if the dungeon hadn't been in the area—the hunter had detention for 50 more seconds!" you rebuked incessantly, Norton wished to tell you that he'd prefer to kite a hunter with detention just to hear you worry about him but he wished to be able to eat your cooking so he didn't proceed ^^;

he can't help but smile when he sees you take care of little girl or robbie

The soft drum of your fingers against the wooden table could be heard throughout the facility, accompanying the ticking clock and the soft rain that drizzled. The quiet night left for much pondering for a researcher such as yourself, one driven with as much curiosity as your now missing partner. A soft yet heavy sigh passed your lips, ‘Just where on earth are you professor? And why did you not care to inform me of your travels’. You could only let out one small pitiful laugh, he cared for you enough to leave a key to his residence, to his lab, to his files in your hands—the research he poured his whole soul into. He cared for you enough to spare time to spend with you but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he would depart to who knows where.

It was laughable really, the professor had his way of putting you through emotional turmoil, the one thing deemed unfitting in a world where cold hard proof held jurisdiction over everything you had known; the professor was cruel for this. How was breaking you down to this mess of a person “kind” in any way whatsoever?. The professor you knew was warm—he had been this way with you, so it was the assumption that he’d been this way with others. 

Your eyes trailed over the countless pieces of paper that littered the table, the documents consisting of your own and the professor’s. It irked you to notice that there was a stark difference between his and your own handwriting, you could distinctly hear his “mocking words” regarding the matter. He had told you that it was charming in its own right—sure, leave it to the man with impeccable handwriting comparable to the font of the daily paper, he had found it so amusing too! He fought so hard to stifle his laughter and yet the bastard’s eyes were still smiling.

Scoffing, you shook your head with a feeling of resignation, thinking of the professor would only set you back on your research. Knowing that you could do nothing but wait for him to come back left you feeling helpless, who knows what could’ve happened to him, was it even guaranteed that he was still alive?. Such thoughts always creeped up on you, disrupting your carefully managed routine.

You raised your hand to your face, nearly rubbing your eyes with your ink-covered fingers. ‘Had I not noticed that the ink leaked beforehand?’ you thought, your eyes beelining for the ticking clock on the wall, “10:27pm… the fatigue must be catching up with me” you mumbled. Your light footsteps seemed deafening as you walked through the empty laboratory, you had almost wished that his floors were wooden instead of the glazed cement.

The door to the bathroom creaked a bit once you began to push it open, shutting with a push of your foot but not without producing a thud that went unheard by the person nearing the room.

—

Luchino treads the path leading to his laboratory with unhurried steps under his umbrella, under the assumption that no one would be there after the search parties halted their activities after two weeks. This part of the university was desolate, a far cry from the tame liveliness before his “disappearance”. 

It was oddly quiet; usually around this time of the night, you could still hear the faint sounds of people moving around within the labs within the area. The university was home to many night owls and people that seemed to not have the word “rest” within their dictionaries.

He returned because he had forgotten the papers detailing all of his discoveries regarding the venomous reptile that had been his fixation. Of course, he would say that this was his sole reason but secretly, he’d been hoping to catch a glimpse of his co-worker. It’s been a while since he saw the man, he wonders if his friend ever found the letter he left him.

He squints slightly when the door to his laboratory comes into view, steps slightly increasing in pace until he breaks out into a short jog. He reaches out to the doorknob, expecting his door to still be locked, only for it to open without a hitch. His slowly forming forked tongue licks at his sharpening canines, eyes glimmering with something akin to wonder—laced thinly with malice when he ponders upon what they might be doing at his personal laboratory. There were many vacant laboratories on campus, it wasn’t as if the university was short with them.

Luchino steps into his lab, closing the door behind him carefully so that he doesn’t alert his “intruder”. The only people with keys to his lab were him, you, and the janitor; he doubts it was you, you had your own laboratory on campus, you always preferred to work within your own space so it wouldn’t make sense for you to enter his lab.

His eyes keen with interest when they spot papers scattered over a table. Taking long strides towards the table, he inspects them, not recognising them as his own. Brown eyes widen slightly in realisation, “This is his handwriting..” he trails off, bringing the page close to his face for close inspection. The wet ink stains left on the paper didn’t bother him, showing no care for the inky marks left on his hand as he read what you wrote.

A smile graced his face as he realised that you were here, in his lab. He wondered if there was a possibility that you missed him just as much as he had missed you. His other hand rested on the table, supporting his weight as he read your observations—your thoughts regarding the strange reptile that bit him. Such a hard worker you were, he wondered if you had gotten any sleep these past weeks. 

The sound of a door opening alerted the tall man, his eyes darting past the paper to land on your form.

—

The silence was deafening, it was as if time had stopped its passage. Your eyes met those warm coffee coloured orbs that you had yearned to see. Your mouth parted slightly, the countless words you wished to say jammed within your throat. Your hands trembled, moving to cover your mouth. Were you hallucinating? Or was he really there before you? 

You swallow down your hesitation, and before the man before you can utter a word, you cut him to the chase. “Have I gone insane or is it really Luchino Diruse standing before me?” you spoke, taking slow strides towards the suspected symptom of psychosis. 

“And what if you really have gone insane? Does this open the possibility of you longing to see your friend?” he jests, eyes tinged with that touch of mischief that you had grown to be fond of and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. You fought the urge to roll your eyes; his response made it painfully obvious that it was the latter scenario instead of the former.

You stand on the other side of the table, staring down the man before you as if to silently demand an explanation. He eyed you with a warm gaze, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Allow me to form a conjecture, you haven’t opened your mailbox ever since the last time I came over haven’t you” he foretold, already aware of the fact that he was right. 

You blinked once, and then twice, before your eyes finally drifted away to instead temporarily wander the room. Luchino carded through his locks, smiling softly at your sheepish display, You hadn’t changed at all these past few years. His eyes wandered over your frame; you were free of the lab coat you usually wore, clad in more casual clothing that fitted within your usual choice of fashion. His eyes traced over the smallest details of your face to make note of any change, narrowing upon noting that the circles under your eyes that had grown darker and your pasty complexion. “Now,” he began, slowly making his way to the other side of the room as if to examine the spotless and polished equipment.  “It’s not as if I would expect that an erudite person such as yourself would not know of the recommended amount of sleep for humans, but again and again, you have always proven that you show no concern for your own well-being” he sighed, oh-so familiar with your style of living, hiding a small smile when he comes to the conclusion that you’ve been tidying his lab for him in his absence.

Your gaze trailed towards the man before you, head cocking to the side as you raised an eyebrow. “It’s the same as always” you admitted blandly, cracking your knuckles on your left hand as you stared at that reliable back. “I’m assuming, based on your previous statement, that you had left something in my mailbox correct? And, you can’t be one to talk, you seem to have sustained an injury as well” you quickly added whilst gesturing to the bandage on his head, not wanting a lecture about your health that you’ve heard countless times before, especially from someone that visibly presented a sign of “damage”.

Luchino, already used to your style of conversation, simply goes with the change of topic. He turns on his heel, wearing a relaxed look on his face as he approaches you. “Granted, I did leave a message for you, one you had evidently missed despite my constant reminders, but onto another matter, one of great interest that will unveil my purpose for running off so abruptly,” he raised a hand to the bandage, “and I assure you, this will make up for my lack of warning” he added, admitting to his undeserved crime that you had been the suspect of.

Before you could make any remarks, let alone any sound, he tore off the bandage with a graceful yet swift movement of his wrist. He unveiled the emerald coloured scales forming on his temple, gleaming under the light. 

Your mouth parted and after a few seconds of recollection you had managed to stammer something out. “W, What on earth happened? You must explain this instant professor”. “This,” he pointed to the scales, “Is the result of me nearing the truth we have attempted to unveil—to piece together” he explained, eyes hazed with something closer to madness rather than fulfilment, and yet still, you continued to listen to what would sound like the ramblings of a madman to others.

You would ought to assume that any normal person would be repulsed by his enthusiasm, just as those of which that followed the church as if the words spoken by their fellow humans could be trusted under the guise of originating from their maker. Any other sane person grounded by such principles would be expected to react in such a manner but you weren’t one of those people. You stared at him as if every word he uttered was of utmost importance, as if he would disappear once more if you looked away. 

The professor that rambled before you had begun to discuss his findings, his eyes glimmering with unparalleled passion. “It seems that upon being bitten by the reptile, its venom caused a genetic mutation within me. Interestingly enough, when it bit the rat in my initial experimentation, nothing had occurred—” he began, diving into a one-sided discussion that seemed to go deeper and deeper with each topic opened. Surely enough, the scene had once more taken the picturesque form of memories dating back to when the two of you had first begun to work together.

With masked enamour you listened intently, the ticking clock holding no influence over your interest. The man before you paused amidst his ramble session, eyes taking in the sight of you, a sight he’d never tire of. 

A sigh so harrowing escaped the professor’s lips, causing you to perk up in slight alarm. Silence blanketed the room once more and neither of you were willing to speak up. Luchino's solemn eyes drifted away from your figure momentarily. “Forgive me for halting my explanation so suddenly, it's just that my sentiments have overcome my will to do so” he trailed off, dragging his nimble fingers along the table. Coffee coloured irises gaze into your own e/c eyes, “I missed this, what used to be routine halted until now—and I’m aware that I’m at fault for this. It was my absence that hindered us after all, it was just that.. Due to the circumstance of this transformation of mine, I fled without warning” he spoke self-deprecatingly, sending an uncertain smile your way. 

“Was it really necessary to leave?” you spoke with furrowed eyebrows, a flurry of emotions coursing through your veins. This man, your long-term friend and co-worker, had left so suddenly instead of simply talking through the issue with you. “Professor, with all due respect, I must ask, did you think that at that moment you wouldn’t be able to rely on me for aid?” you continued, a pang of hurt flashing on through your face. 

With widened eyes Luchino immediately waved his hand in dismissal, “Nonsense, I’ll have you know that you are my most trusted relation, I… I just, I thought I would burden you with something” he trailed off. He walked towards you, gently tilting your downcasted head up, “Don’t think that I don’t trust you, to tell you the truth, I feared your reaction to the mutations I would go through, this body of mine continues to change with time and perhaps in my pursuit, I would present the chance of harming you” he spoke earnestly, his other hand holding onto your own.

Your lips parted but no words came out, how would you even reply to that?. Your eyes lingered on his hand that dwarfed your own yet handled your hand as if you were porcelain and you couldn’t help but think that your hands fit so perfectly together. “Did you consider how worried i’d be once you disappeared” you mumbled, not meaning to let the other man overhear but of course, with his mutation came enhanced senses surpassing that of a normal human.

The professor’s shock was evident through his raised eyebrows, he didn’t attempt to fully conceal his growing smile either. Of course, before the man could utter a word, or revel in his discovery, you continued your sentence. “It is foolish to assume such a thing, did it not occur to you that it would be in your best interest to venture into an alternative approach accompanied by a person possessing knowledge in this topic? I am someone you’re well-acquainted with and yet I was not considered for such matters, granted you had your doubts but perhaps you’d like to account for damage control as well when conducting your projects” you continued in a deadpan manner, pinching the area between your eyebrows. 

Luchino’s smile fails to waver despite how sharp your words sounded, he was well-aware of your concern that you masked through blunt and piercing undertones. “Alright, I take responsibility for the results of my actions, there’s no need to rub it in my face so much” he feigns surrender, a smile evident from the rising lilt in his tone. With your disgruntled huff and his warm conversation, you both indulge in more menial topics about your lives whilst in each others’ absence.

The professor still exuded that air of professionalism despite him telling his own personal stories that friends would typically share over drinks. Even as you took him to your place, he still carried himself with elegance that rarely ever faltered.

Over dinner, the professor would pause and alternate his gaze between you and the various things that he may fixate on, seeming to hesitate over something. By the time you had gathered the plates for washing, he finally spoke up. “You know, I value you the most in my life right?” he begins, his tone tinged with uncertainty as he watches you take the plates to the sink for washing. “Mmh.. well, I as well” you replied, a small but uncontrollable smile gracing your lips, one he doesn’t see because you were facing away from him.

The professor smiled semi-bitterly, he wondered if you would be able to accept his following words. He was still unsure of whether or not this was the right time, whether or not he was willing to stake everything on this chance to finally tell you. You had never reciprocated his blatant flirting, every attempt he made beforehand seemed to fly over your pretty head. For the years you both had known each other, he had fallen for you without notice; It suddenly occurred to him that he had not valued anyone like he had valued you, that every day, he looked forward to seeing you, so much so that he had broken past your boundaries as co-workers. He had begun visiting your own laboratory and even reached the point of having frequented your own more than his. He slowly wormed his way into your quaint life, wanting to be a constant part of your day, wanting to etch the threads of his being into the fabrics of your existence like how you wove your own into his so seamlessly.

To him, this feeling that people dubbed as love, was something he hadn’t experienced until the day he met you. This emotion was something he simply read about, never believing in it until he had experienced it first-hand. To a man like him who always prioritised his pursuit of knowledge, to a man that has only ever experienced flings in the past, this emotion could only be summed up with the word “foreign”. His parents painted the picture of love for him and he grew up thinking that he would never experience the same love they both found in each other, such a thing occurring seemed closer to fiction than reality.

He knew what he felt, his experiences only ever served as proof of his affections towards you and despite society’s opinions and whatever nonsense they had to say, he couldn’t have cared less. Society was and has always been filled with those who could not accept the standing of others as long as they thought something didn’t conform to their expectations, attempting to conform to them would only make you a curly haired baboon that only possesses enough knowledge to look down upon others. 

The only thing that scared him was the chance of you reacting horribly. He wouldn’t hesitate to admit the fact that he would be devastated if he lost you. You were simply more than just the one he loved romantically, you were his family and his best friend: you were the sole person he’d allow himself to open up to completely without hiding any details. Just the sight of you would instantly ebb away all the negative in his life, your presence was something he’d consider a need instead of a want.

It wasn’t to the point that he was obsessive and reliant on your presence of course, he knows that such a thing is unhealthy. He worried about your well-being but he would never baby you as if you weren’t capable of caring for yourself. He admired your strengths in life; in a myriad of ways, you were a person worthy of praise. You kept to yourself but you never allowed others to trample upon you, you were kind to everyone regardless of their standing, treating them as equals no matter what. 

He didn’t wish to chain you to him, but he wished to stay by your side; to grow with you, to get old with you, to spend his most important moments and even those of little importance with you. He yearned to be someone important to you, more than just a friend and colleague.

He’d be damned if he didn’t even try to tell you.

In the case that it does not end well, he’d likely disappear for good, perhaps he’d live in solitude until the end of his life. His only wish would be that you still considered him someone that held importance to you at one point in your life, he would never want you to forget him entirely, he just wants you to remember him in some way, be it through his work or anything else if it ends tonight.

All those years ago when I told my mother that loving someone was the hardest thing I've ever done, I never would have expected that it would be as easy as breathing Luchino sighed, shaking his head in a self-deprecating manner. 

________

You put away the last dish into the cupboard, drying your hands on a towel. You walked into the living room, eyes landing on your friend’s slumped form. You poked his back gently, jostling him awake from his deep thoughts. Sitting down next to him, you could only raise an eyebrow at his current state.

Luchino exhales, raising his head to finally face you. He briefly focuses on how your knee is touching his own before staring into your eyes. “Listen (Name), I would like to tell you something and I find that this is a matter more nerve-wracking than my very first lecture” he chuckled dryly, his hand moving to gently hold one of your own. Your eyes widen slightly and he feels your hand tense before relaxing and reciprocating the gentle grip he had.

“I, I had always thought that in this life, I would not find anyone to love, that perhaps I would be lonely, but upon meeting you, I had found not only a friend I would like to spend time with, but someone I yearned to see every day,” his voice trembled, Luchino swallowed down his nerves and you simply squeezed his hand in comfort. “Throughout the years we’ve spent together, be it as friends or colleagues, you’ve grown to be my biggest comfort in life, and I, I have never felt this way for anyone or anything and I have felt this way for more than two years and I’m sorry if you feel disgusted or uncomfortable in any way, but I know, I, I know that what I feel for you is genuine, in the eyes of many it may be what they consider a sin in life but loving you, is as easy as breathing, loving you has brought me unparalleled joy that I never would have thought existed in this life and I’ll be damned if I don’t tell you how I truly feel for you, so if you wish for me to leave or if you wish for me to stay, please tell me right now” he continues, voice uncharacteristically rising and falling in tremors. It was a first for him to be like this, even when he first presented in a room filled with people, he never shook like this. The man before you seemed so vulnerable at this moment, embarrassed and even scared. His eyes were downcast as if he were awaiting for his sentence to be dealt by you, the judge.

Your smile was soft and although your heartbeat reached an alarming pace, you were overjoyed. You took both of his hands into your own, tracing patterns into the subtly shaking limbs. Seeing as it didn’t provide enough assurance, one of your hands hesitantly cupped his face. His eyes met yours, crystally brown meeting your own irises. 

It felt so right to hold his face. The warm flush on your face complemented his own, his teary eyes made your heart ache. Knowing this man felt the same for you and knowing that he loved you to that extent was likely the biggest honour you’ve been bestowed in this life.

“And what if I wish for you to stay here with me until the end of my days? What if I've felt the same for just as long as you have?” you replied, voice soft as both of your hands caressed his cheeks. Luchino couldn’t help but cry out of relief, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in for a hug. You didn’t let yourself be shocked for too long, patting his back as his tears dripped down your neck.

You shed a few tears of your own, but this time, it wasn’t because you feared that you’d never be able to tell him how you felt, it wasn’t because you were pining for him. It was because mercy still existed in this world, that you had managed to meet the love of your life and received the same from him.

Perhaps hardships awaited you both, but you knew that you’d be capable of handling anything, much more so now that he would be by your side. 

Doe-eyes trailed down the composer's body, face heating up at the sight of his tiny waist. Just before they could get caught, they turned away, going back to the cipher machine they were decoding. Please don't come here please don't come here please don't they pleaded internally, on the brink of having a cognitive malfunction.

Of course, the gods decided to be cruel to the survivor, delivering to them the cause of their impending "doom"—or perhaps their blessing in disguise. Granted, each conversation they've had beforehand was pleasant, consisting of them exchanging answers and questions regarding each other's lives, however, there was little chance that the composer saw them as more than a friend; Sir Kreiburg often invited you over for tea and such but that was it really.

As the vague scent of ceylon tea approached, you wiped the nervous expression off your face, facing the cipher machine's keyboard. "Hello there" he greeted with a small smile, joining you in decoding the last cipher. You had every intention of remaining silent, but out of courtesy, you decided to greet the older man with a curt, "Hello Frederick".

Considering the fact that you were being a coward by avoiding looking the man in the eye, you had missed the confusion draping over his pale face. Have I done something to displease them? the composer debated internally, eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. Grunting slightly, he stabs his tuning fork into the machine ungraciously, displaying his irritation. You flinched slightly at his rough treatment of the cipher and his tool, What was that about? is he mad? you wondered, worry creeping up your features.

The silence between you two was thick enough to be sliced through by the time the machine was primed. A soft squeak was drawn from your lips when Frederick placed a heavy hand on your shoulder. Doe e/c eyes clash against his warm grey ones; he leans down, leaving miniscule distance between your lips. "You are to meet me in my room after this match, I simply won't tolerate letting you off without a conversation about what I could have possibly done to displease you" he said with a low voice, brushing his hand against your arm as he took off towards the nearest exit gate.

Crimson slowly crawled up your neck, reaching the tips of your ears. You lift a slender hand to cover your mouth, leaning against the cipher machine with shaky irises. What was that about you trembled, unsure of whether or not you should go along with what the composer told you.

As the Cowboy took a hit, you popped the cipher, instantly activating Borrowed Time for the survivor. With that, loud cheers of approval echoed through the peculiar formless intercom that delivered messages between the survivors.

The pit of nervousness building within you only grew in size, so much so that you opted for the other exit gate, the one across the map—facing Frederick so soon would've resulted in an ineffable outcome that you wouldn't wish upon yourself, avoiding your early "doom" sounded like a much much more pleasant route.

In front of the handsome man's door is a survivor metaphorically rooted to the ground.

Your hand hovered over the brass door handle, hesitance lacing your very being. A part of you felt like bolting towards your room, or even better, jumping out the damned window. You felt deeply unwilling to have the conversation you've visualised over and over again on repeat while making your way towards the exit gate.

Groaning, you tug at your soft locks in frustration, turning on your heel before attempting to leave—only for the door to swing open. Frederick arches an eyebrow at you, "You weren't planning on leaving were you?" he inquired, leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Animated sweat beads form on your temple as he stared you down. You shook your head, gulping nervously as he gestures for you to enter his room.

"Make yourself at home, would you like some tea?" he hums, gazing at you curiously. Slowly, albeit awkwardly, you take a seat on the couch in his chambers, slowly relaxing into the soft material; facing him, you nod, smiling. He nods, smiling as if to reassure you before preparing the tea cups and the teapot.

Mindlessly, you began to fumble around with the fabric and accessories attached to your clothing. After a few minutes, Frederick returns with a tray of sweet treats, along with the tea. He sets down the contents of the tray before placing the tray beside the coffee table. Pouring you and himself a cup of tea, he turns to face you, to which, you do the same, just without the grace in his movements.

"Please, do try the cookies, I baked them earlier" he raises the plate towards you, looking at you expectantly. You reach for one, and before you're even able to take a bite, he shoots a question towards you. "Why have you been avoiding me?" he asked, the upset tone in his voice making you feel guilty.

He faces you with that gaze, that gaze that made him look so much more fucking attractive. You sigh and close your eyes, taking a bite of the cookie before downing it with a gulp of the aromatic tea.

"You see, darling, I..." you trail off, opening one eye. "I have feelings and thoughts of you, lascivious thoughts and passionate feelings I can't bear to voice out". You eye his expression: his dumbfounded stare and the way his mouth gapes.

You let out a small amused chuckle, attempting to stand up from the couch. "Wait, I never said you were allowed to leave" Frederick seized hold of your arm, stopping you in your tracks. The older man's eyebrows were furrowed as he stared at you, his mouth opening and closing in rapid succession as he tried formulating words.

"I don't.. I don't see how that's a valid reason to be cold to me!" he frowned, lips pursing in a thin line. Your shoulders shake slightly, muted giggles gradually turning into full blown laughter. "But it is?, I'd hardly imagine that a man of your etiquette would like for someone to stare at you with only the most indecent and lewd thoughts filling their head" you grinned, tilting your head to the side as a teasing glint filled those shining orbs. "Unless, you'd actually want for that to happen, is that the case Sir Kreiburg?~" you purred, placing your hand on his chest—closing the distance between your faces until your breath fanned his lips.

His cheeks heated up, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed due to nervousness. "A, And what if I do?" he responded, gorgeous warm greys beginning to cloud whilst his hands melded into your hips. A soft giggle left your mouth, your eyes becoming half-lidded, "Really now? then.. you wouldn't mind then if I did this then?" placing one hand on his shoulder, you push him down to sit on the couch, climbing on top of his lap.

Frederick has practically turned into a tomato at this point, staring up at you with wide eyes—those pretty eyes that stare up at you with so much anticipation, pleading you for something. "You're much naughtier than I assumed.." you muttered under your breath, playing with a strand of his soft ashy locks with a dazed look, lifting it to your lips—"I happen to like that" you leaned down, hovering a centimeter away from his lips. Frederick grew impatient, pulling you down by your neck, locking your lips together heatedly. He pulled you into him, simultaneously pressing himself up against you.

Frederick moans into your mouth as you ground down on his hardening member. He lets out a sound akin to a whine as you pull away, chasing after you lips—your kisses are wet and sloppy, regrettably, you have to forcefully pull away to take in oxygen. "Calm down darling, I'm not going anywhere" you chuckled breathlessly, a tad bit lightheaded. Frederick is breathless, whining as he rutted up against your ass.

"Needy aren't you? has it been a while since you've been presented the chance to get off?" you question with a sultry voice, bordering the lines of jealousy. As if aware of everything you're feeling, he leans against your chest, "Yes, but it's also because you're the only one I want" he smiled innocently, akin to how a puppy would act cute for more treats, except, his goal is to quell your jealousy.

Leaning down, you press your lips against his ear, "I'll make sure I'm the only one you want and need by the end of the night". He shivers, anticipation bubbling at your promise.

Off comes his jabot and his coat as you search for every sensitive spot on his neck; you thoroughly enjoyed each sound he'd produce as you slowly stripped him of all his clothing. He tugs at your own garments, fumbling with the buttons of your shirt; his fingers glide over the expanse of your exposed skin as he strips you.

Soft lips latch onto every bit of your skin they can access, leaving marks in their wake—you sigh in pleasure, carding your fingers through his soft locks. He suckles on your rosy bud, lavishing it with licks and kisses.

His cock presses against your clothed nether regions, it's sensitive head flushed and dripping pre-cum. The sensation of his length rubbing against your sensitive sex made you terribly impatient.

"Honey," you called out, the natural lilt of your voice drawing his attention. Frederick blinked, staring up at you with eager eyes, still sucking on your nipple like an infant. "P, Pardon me for my language but, will you please fuck me already? I don't think I can handle not feeling you inside me anymore" you pulled him down with you fell atop the fluffy pillows on the bed, him landing on top of you.

Gasps of pleasure, guttural groans, and occasional whines bounce against the walls of Frederick's room. He supports his upper body weight with his forearms, gazing down at you as he thrusted into you. The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with the lewd squelch of the lube made it all the much lewder, and yet Frederick believed that the mixture of all those noises, your noises, was the best piece his ears have ever been blessed with; no other sound could top the ones you made.

Your hands crawl up his back to the base of his hickey-covered neck, before finally cupping his face. One of your thumbs swiped at the sweat beading on his forehead, before gently beckoning him to lower himself for a soft kiss. He obliges eagerly, and despite how distracted he is by your soft lips, the pace of his hips never stagger, not even once.

"I, I'm close" Frederick gasps out, speeding up, lifting your hips up to make it easier for him to reach the deepest parts of your insides. The way you wrap around him so deliciously nearly made him delirious with pleasure, he was sure that his eyes nearly looked like they were about to roll into the back of his head with each thrust really.

"Me t, too..!" you moan out, resting your forehead against his shoulder, not even attempting to muffle your high-pitched cries of pleasure. Your nails dug into his back but it simply did nothing to deter the man from making you reach your climax; he reaches down to your sex, touching your sensitive areas, hips still hammering into you. "Cum for me, please" he pleads, kissing the soft lobe of ear. As if bewitched, you do exactly as he pleaded, orgasming messily around his throbbing cock. Frederick continues to pound into you, reaching his own climax but he doesn't stop there, he grinds into you gently, easing you both from your climaxes.

"Itha, your eyes are so pretty" you whispered, cupping his face. He meets your adoration-filled gaze, his blue orbs piercing into your own. His eyes are unreadable yet soft as he leans into your touch, you warmth comforting him just as it always did.

"I think you're much prettier" he responds, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. You smiled, leaning towards him, "No! you're much prettier," you disagreed. Before he could utter a word, you began peppering kisses all over his face. Startled by the sudden shower of affection, his mouth is left parted slightly, unable to voice out a word.

"You," you paused, pecking his forehead and backing off with a giggle—"are the prettiest" you whispered, kissing him on his lips. You part from him for a bit only to be pulled back in for more—it seemed that Itha wanted more.

The albino's red tinted cheeks felt warm in your palms, his cheeks shifting upwards as he smiles against your lips. "I doubt that I'm prettier than you" he mumbles against your lips. Breathless, you part with him, giggling slightly. "Silly boy, you are the prettiest" you grinned, rubbing your nose against his own affectionately.

Ithaqua shook his head, accepting your praise. He wonders if you'll ever get tired of calling him pretty.

The answer was no.

Lusty hues of sapphire blue peered up at you, admiring your pleasured expression from between your thighs. "I, Itha" you whined, tugging on his soft locks. "S, So pretty for me" you slurred through your moans, giggling when his eyebrows furrow.

Where did your shy sweetheart go? there was no trace of him—there wasn't an inch of reserve in the man devouring your sensitive sex. Calloused hands gripped onto the plush of your hips, practically smothering the lower portion of his face.

"H, Honey, s, slow down!" you squealed, tugging on his soft locks; Ithaqua groaned, driven even further by your lewd noises and expressions.

"Mine, all mine" he murmured into your core, eyes drooping as he rested his tongue against your sensitive bits. "Mh, yes, all y, yours darling" you simpered, struggling to keep your breathing even.

"Ithaaa, you're so, so pretty like this" you smiled, eyes forced shut as another wave of white crashed down on you. The way you moaned his name so loudly sent shivers down his spine—he wanted, no, he needed to hear more of your noises.

He lifts you off his face, laying you down on the bed gently. He licks up the remnants of your orgasm using his fingers, smirking at you whilst he does so. He nuzzles up against your inner thigh, resting his cheek against it.

"Did I do good?" he asks in a soft voice, peppering kisses all over the expanse of your inner thighs, avoiding the sensitive area between them in order to let you rest.

𝐖𝐔 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆

𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐔𝐉𝐈𝐔

"Wuuu~, c'mon, I just wanted kisses" you bemoaned, pouting as you faced the tall man. The black guard grunted, rolling his eyes, "You do not attract someone's attention by screaming obscene things at them" he chided, nearing a rocket chair.

"I'll send you back, we can deal with you af—" before he can continue his sentence, you press your lips against his, cupping his face gently with both of your hands. Wujiu's eyes flutter shut, attempting to deepen the kiss. He releases the balloons, leaning into you.

'I'm gonna feel horrible after this and I will likely feel sore in the morning but Emily said she'd be mad if we lost again because I let myself get chaired on purpose' they thought to themself, wiggling out of the black guard's grasp before fleeing.

They make a beeline for the abandoned hospital, but not before blowing Wujiu a goodbye kiss. "I'm sorry but I don't want to deal with a prissy Emily later!" they shouted apologetically. Fan grits his teeth, glaring into your back, how dare you kiss him in a match only to deprive him of your affection, how cruel of you. He licked his lips before chuckling darkly, he was making you pay after the match, if your body wasn't already sore from the match, he'd make sure you woke up bruised and unable to walk in the morning.

𝐗𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐈'𝐀𝐍

"Bi'ann, look at me please" you pleaded, disliking how he refused to gaze at you. "I... can't bring myself to, not when you're facing me what that, that gaze of yours" he mutters apologetically. You huff, visibly frustrated with how he was acting.

"Have I upset you because of how I acted earlier?" you feigned dejection, jutting out your bottom lip for more effect, hoping that it'd get the man to look at you. Bi'an swallowed, feeling his steel resolve waver at the sound of his beloved being upset. "Darling—" before he could even utter another word, your lips silenced him; his words, his thoughts, and his every reservation, and he had to admit, he loved every bit of it.

His grip gradually loosens around you, melting into your touch. Slowly, you break free from the balloons, ensuring that he wouldn't notice that you had gotten rid of the restraints. You did feel bad for taking advantage of him and his weakness like this but you'd rather deal with an upset lover, not an angry teammate—in this situation at least.

You let go of the balloons, successfully escaping Bi'an's clutches. You dash away using a nearby pulled down pallet near you. Bi'an stares at your back, his mouth slightly ajar as he sighs. "Brother... I agree with your suggestion" he replies to Fan, before disappearing into the umbrella and reappearing near another survivor—trading places with his counterpart.

𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐎

The violinist sighs, shaking his head, "My dear, at least attempt to act the part of a terrified survivor fleeing from a hunter" he says, tendril-like locks still laced around your limbs. He stares at you with an unamused expression, lips pursing into a thin line as scrutinised you.

You pouted at him before slowly smiling. You see, normally, Antonio usually keeps the survivors at a distance when he carries them using his hair, but when it's you he's carrying, you're a lot closer to him, as if embracing you instead of immobilising you.

"'Toniooo" you called out to him, successfully drawing his attention. "Yes?" he replied, leaning down slightly. You grinned cheekily before connecting your lips, startling your lover. His grip tightened around you, one of his hands lacing around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he pulls away from you, allowing you to intake the air you needed. He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "Now, just what made you do that darling?" he whispered breathlessly, gazing into your eyes. With a flick of his hand, he surrenders, surprising you. His gaze is dark yet loving as he caresses your cheek, "I want more... and besides, this is just one quick match, it won't affect my win rate much" he says, carrying you with his own hands as you both returned to the manor.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎

Luchino's hand supports you against his chest as he carries you to the farthest rocket chair on the map, knowing you wouldn't struggle out despite being perfectly able to.

"Luch.." you droned on, lying against his chest. The hunter hummed, passing the basement as he headed towards the chair near the cathedral's exit gate. "I like it when you carry me like this" you giggled, smiling. He shakes his head, "I can carry you outside of matches, just don't do this next time alright? You can give me all your affection outside of matches, that way, I'm able to return it" he chuckles, bringing you up to his face before nuzzling into your neck.

You cup the reptilian's face, kissing him. He smiles against your lips, pressing his... skin against your lips. He hummed before shaking his head. 'Oh what a fool I've become, well, for them at least' he thinks to himself before heading to the nearest shaking cipher.

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋

often times, he finds it hard to keep up with your energy

luckily, you like it when you're smaller, and it's much easier to catch you when you're smaller

"Not another peep out of you" the prospector chided, covering your mouth with his finger. You squirmed in his hand, attempting to break free, earning an eye roll from your lover, he had enough of your energy for today—he wasn't going to chase you around again.

he's considered purchasing a tiny bed for you, along with more tiny furniture

one time, the hunter almost stepped on you, but before they could, he pulled them away

oh boy, you were in for a scolding

"Idiot!" Norton yelled out, forcing the hunter to collide with the church's walls. He vaulted over the open window, picking you up with one of his hands before running off to the open exit gate. Onyx eyes glared daggers into your tiny form as you tried getting away from his sight, burrowing into yourself.

STOP HIDING FROM HIM, HE JUST WANTS TO TALK

Your heartbeat raced, not because of the hunter, but because of your lover. You pressed your body up against the kitchen island, hoping that he wouldn't see you at all costs. An angry Norton was a scary Norton after all.

"(Name) come out! i'm not that mad anymore, probably" he hollers, a somewhat eerie smile plastered on his handsome face. He roamed the halls, entering the kitchen. Where were the others you ask? well, they all had a match, you simply had to hide until your boyfriend hopefully stopped.

he's asked miss nightingale to design costumes and clothes for your tiny form despite knowing that your clothes will shrink down with you in matches

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑

he thinks it's pretty interesting, a pain in matches though

he likes putting you in his breast pocket

Jack hummed, roaming the manor with a small smile. He steps outside, taking a seat in the garden on one of the many garden benches. The smell of earth soothes you, coaxing you into leaning into the soft material of his suit.

He brings out a book, flipping it to where his bookmark was fixed at. Your arms hang outside his pocket, reading along with him and listening to his hushed voice. He truly was an excellent narrator.

please stop climbing up shelves or walls without him watching over you

"Dear!" the hunter exclaimed, visibly alarmed. You had almost fallen off the shelf you were climbing up. A small pout graced your face as he told you off, "I promise to not climb anything without you around, can I go now?" you whined, nearly laughing when he lets out an exasperated sigh at your antics.

he tends to caress you as if you're a little doll, you sure are as fragile as one

he likes dressing you in doll's clothes

"These types of clothes suit you" he crooned, smoothing over the fabric of the tiny apparel. He picked you up gently, placing you in front of his vanity mirror. You stared in awe—you truly did look like a tiny doll. "I look pretty" you whispered to yourself, bashfully twirling around in a small circle. Jack chuckled softly, "You always do darling" he spoke, smiling down at you.

you're so small he's actually afraid of accidentally crushing you

he asks you to be his muse often, your small size adds a touch of surrealism to his paintings after all (i'm well aware that surrealism began in the 20th century and that the ripper is from the 19th), roses held nothing against your beauty.

𝐆𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀

she thinks you're even more adorable when you're tiny

she often worries about the chance of you getting hurt when you're shrunken down, so you tried lessening your tiny adventures

"Please be more careful about roaming about while not being your normal size, you could have gotten seriously injured" she spoke, sounding very disappointed and worried. You couldn't bear to look at her, not when she already sounded so upset.

Noticing your downcast gaze, she approached you, embracing your smaller form. "Don't be upset, I only worry because I care about you deeply" she soothes, rubbing your back gently.

you remind her of a cute little porcelain doll

she enjoys crafting clothes for you: regular sized or doll sized

Michiko appears to be engrossed in her sewing—making sure to pay a great deal of attention to every detail on the miniature clothing. Various types of fabric surround her, along with mini and regular sized tailor's mannequins.

she has a small chair for you that's always on her coffee table for when you and her have tea parties

"It seems that it's taking you a while to finish your cookie, would you like me to make it smaller?" she inquired with a teasing smile. You shook your head vigorously, turning away from her while still munching on the large cookie in your lap.

you like playing hide and seek with her in her room

𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐒

you are going to be the death of him

the amount of heart attacks this man experiences within a day is outstandingly concerning

you are cute but troublesome.

"Honey! catch me!" you shouted from above the staircase. Joseph looks above him, onyx eyes widening upon landing on your figure. Just as you jump off, he rushes to catch you, making sure to not scratch you with his long nails. "Ne refais plus jamais ça mon amour!" he scolded, holding you to his chest. Inky tears trickled down his cracked porcelain-like cheeks as he pressed a small kiss to your small head. The hands holding you trembled like a leaf in the wind. That was the moment you vowed to no longer put yourself in any kind of danger.. outside of games of course.

translation: Never do that again, my love

STOP HIDING IN HIS POCKETS, YOU MIGHT GET HURT

Joseph chaired the gravekeeper, the last survivor before getting sent back to the manor. Whilst walking down the halls and towards his quarters, he hears a soft yet familiar giggle coming from inside the inner pocket of his coat. He pauses, placing a hand on his temple and closing his eyes in preparation for the upcoming headache.

Using his other hand, he gently fishes out your figure from his pocket. You wave at him, kissing his hand with a sweet smile. Good god, how was he going to get mad at you if you were this unbearably adorable.

you have taken a liking to hiding in cookie jars

The photographer reaches for the cookie jar in his bedroom, opening it to be greeted by the sight of you nibbling on one of the cookies. "My, and what is this delectable treat doing amongst these common pastries~" he teases, picking you up with a smirk. You freeze up, avoiding his gaze. A deep and rich chuckle was drawn from his lips as he closed the distance between you and his face,"Why don't I give you a taste then?" he whispered.

tiny doll's clothes—not including your normal clothing—fills up the drawer of his bedside table

he likes taking pictures of you, he always brings a camera with him in order to document your tiny adventures: walking through the garden's flowers and even on the kitchen cupboards, you can have an adventure everywhere if you're tiny!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓

antonio is amused by your ability to shrink, seeing as he literally examined you from head to toe the first time he witnessed it... he deadass held you in front of his face by your ankle.

he adores you both ways

he babies you when you're shrunken down, treating you as if you were made out of porcelain

"Name! darling! don't lift anything larger than you in that form, you'd likely injure yourself!" Antonio berated, lifting up the teapot, peeling away your tiny limbs from the ceramic. His chucked the crockery behind his head, cradling you in his hand. You blinked owlishly upon hearing the porcelain shatter, opting to instead lean into his touch.

he lets you sit on his head when you're in your smaller form. it sure is nice to have a tall lover, unless you have a fear of heights

he gets you a tiny violin it's just a violin that was shrunken down mysteriously

"'TONIOOO! is this for me?" the survivor questions, shooting an expectant starry-eyed look towards the hunter. The violinist nods, lifting the tiny survivor up to his face using one of his hands. "You seemed rather interested in one and since you're often in your smaller state, I decided to get one appropriate for your size—of course, it can grow to back to it's regular size" he spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting to be too loud because of your close proximity. You squealed happily, hugging his face. "Thanks Toni" you whispered, kissing his cheek.

he accompanies you on your tiny adventure, playing music so it seems like you're in your very own show. he actually enjoys listening or even joining you in your monologues

"As the brave adventurer wanders through the gigantic forest," you monologue, weaving through the tall grass. Antonio played a piece suited for adventure, adding more drama than necessary; his playing was more gentle—telltale sign that it was you he was playing for. A soft smile branded his face as he watched you pretend.

"But alas, the adventurer had to stop midway, for their beloved waited patiently for them to come home from their journey" Antonio butted in, gesturing towards the food spread out on the picnic blanket. They gasped mutely, growing to their regular size before lacing their arms with their lover. "Let's take a break, adventuring can be done later—after we eat!" they beam, causing the violinist to chuckle, amused by their quick change.

of course, you guys don't get back into adventuring after since you both end up taking a nap. always

when you sleep next to him in his bed in your tiny form, he swaddles you in his hair so you don't fall off the bed