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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 4 months ago

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Heart's Melody

Valentine's Day gift fic for a friend <3 and ty to my other for helping me edit this lol

Rated: Explicit | Warnings: none it's romantic

Translations: Mon bonheur - My happiness Tu me rends tellement heureuse – You make me so happy.

They call him your pet composer.

A young man tossed away by his family, the esteemed Kreiburg family, and had to make a living playing music for wealthy older women… An escort.

You are his patron, a young woman who is seen as a troublemaker for following the rules of society. A woman who refuses to be tied by force to a man who does not appreciate you. You want to marry for love, you do not want what your parents had, you will follow your heart.

And your heart is on the composer.

It took time, and friendship before romance, courtship but no marriage as you are still frightened of it. Instead, it is a union, a promise between you and him to love one another and keep following this path of romance and companionship.

When the day of roses arrives, Valentine's Day, it is your composer who makes the first move to go the natural next step between couples.

“Frederick, you honestly don't have to—” Gloved finger on your lips as he removes the other glove with his teeth, those sky blue eyes are dark like dusk greets the evening sky, his gaze does not once shift. Oh, but you do, not even last ten seconds before you are looking anywhere but at him. Your legs fall open as he places himself between them, his body laying on top of you, his bare hand touching your warm face. His lips are on your cheek before kissing their way to your lips, your eyes closing as he is half shut. He wants to see your expression as he shows you how to kiss.

He is slow, lips on lips, his tongue licking up the bottom lip to signal you to open your mouth, you open it and he shows you what it is like to taste each other. You pull away making a face when you taste wine and the sensation of tongue-on-tongue is odd, Frederick's laugh is sweet like a choir at Sunday church, you can't help but stare at him in awe.

“Do you want to try again?” Thumb rubbing your cheek, “I am going to touch your chest as we kiss.”

“Okay.” You prepared for yourself for this the moment you rid yourself of your outside clothes but your underlings remain, his request. Any other request too is having your wrists tied up by his ascot and laid above your head, like in those romance novels. “What if I don't like it?”

“Then we stop,” His eyes searching your face, “We can stop at any point, mon bonheur.” Your heart feels at ease as his forehead touches yours, noses lightly rubbing against each other causing a sweet smile on your face at the action.

“Keep going.” Taking a deep breath in and out.

The composer kisses you again, not as slow or fast, you cannot contain your moan when he touches your breast. Your back arching forward towards the touch, you try to focus on him but you get lost in what he is doing. From lips to your neck, your head falls back onto the pillows as Frederick trails kisses down the column of your throat, your chemise shifts as his hand goes under and you gasp when his fingers touch your stiff nipple.

You can't help but moan, legs locking around his waist to pull him impossibly closer, Frederick careful not to push too much without checking.

“Can you…” You already sound out of breath, “Do more?”

“I can.” Frederick smiles mischievously when he pinches your nipple hard enough you gasp, “But mon bonheur has forgotten her manners.”

“Please, can you do more?”

“Of course, but you must release me for me to continue.”

You drop your legs back to his sides allowing him to sit up; you get the full show of him taking off each layer of his top; soon you see the light red lines on his skin. You stare, then whine when you try to touch him.

“Consequences of your ideas, dear.” Teasing you when you pout while he is barely out of his dress shirt. It is so mean how beautiful he is undressing before you until only his underlings shorts and socks with the garters are left.

“I wanted to experience everything!”

“You will, but be patient.”

He only unties you because of the chemise needed to be taken off, and well, he does enjoy how you explore him as he is a sacred piece, treasured and loved. You kiss him again, this time you are eager to taste him and that wine he likes, his hands taking off the rest of your underlings until you are naked and seeking his warmth.

“Will it hurt?” Asking as his attention goes back to breasts, you watch him indulge before he answers.

“I will make sure there won't be as much pain. But there likely won't be any given I know what to do.”

“... You don’t have to do this. I love you and you love me, that is enough for me. And kissing, we can keep doing that.”

“Mon bonheur, this is something I want to do. I only want to warm your bed, to inside of you, for my kisses to be upon solely your lips now and for as long as you will have me.”

Oh, your heart flutters and your cheek burns hotter than the sun, you brush his loose hair out of his face, “I love you, Frederick Kreiburg.” Caressing his cheek.

He smiles as he turns his head to place a kiss on your palm, you sigh as he moves to kiss his way down your stomach to navel.

You grip the sheets as he kisses your inner thighs, touching and worshipping you everywhere but where you feel your wetness dripping from. The novels you have read, the ones the ladies at tea whisper about with giggles following, often use flowery words or speak of passion like fireworks that burn bright before dying into the night/darkness. But the passion does not fade, it keeps burning akin to a raging flame and it consumes your body, the only relief yet fuel to these flames of lust is him.

The composer is gentle and considerate as he takes his time to have you experience his skills, the fingers of a pianist, of a man who touched many to live and continue his passion; you will be the last and only woman he will ever touch for the rest of his days on this Earth.

“Frederick!” You call out his name and he reaches up and takes your hand, you hold onto it for dear life as he brings you to the pinnacle of bliss. Going through it, you suddenly have a revelation dawning on you: you can understand why some of the noble ladies at tea seek out the men of the night for pleasure. It did feel like death, it edges around it like a dance on the cliff of the unknown, the darkness ready to claim yet his kiss brings you back to the living. The waltz of lust leaves you helpless yet buzzing with happiness!

Maybe it is because you are delirious from your orgasmic high but when Frederick moved back to hovering above you, the light in the room made him glow. It was like he was an angel made just for you, your hands taking hold of his face, those grey eyes like grey clouds before the rain, the marks on his skin a canvas that merges two halves into one perfect human.

“(Name),” Wiping a tear from your face, “Shall I stop—”

“You are breathtaking.” You say immediately without thinking, “A piece of the starry heavens for me.”

Frederick turns his head away as his cheek becomes bright pink, you laugh as you kiss his cheek, “You are something else.” Mumbling those words, “Mon bonheur.” As he turns his head back to you, lips on yours as your legs wrap around his waist.

There are plenty of stories about soulmates, about Eros' arrow, and even stories about the strings of fate connecting people; you understand why. There was no pain, only a fullness you never felt before, and the weight of his body on top of yours that kept you grounded in his presence.

You told him about the fireworks used during celebrations like Independence Day in the United States or the Lunar New Year, this moment is like that.

Dazzling, loud with both your choirs, and you wish it could last forever.

It is wonderful! Wonderful because he is the one, the only one, to have you like this. Wonderful because you will be his only one, too, he loves you so much to bare his very soul to you.

“(Name),” You never heard your name sound as precious or as sacred as bible scripture; his eyes reflecting the sight of you under him at your most vulnerable and free, “Je t'aime aussi.” Wiping the tears of happiness rolling down your cheeks. “Tu me rends tellement heureuse.”

Frederick Kreiburg and Lady (Full Name). He is the missing star of your sky in the night, and you are the missing note of his grandest piece.

#idv #identity v x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #idv x reader #identity v #identity v x you #identity v composer #composer x reader #composer x you #frederick kreiburg x you #frederick kreiburg x reader #frederick kreiburg #idv x you #idv composer #composer

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yoshinoritoshi · 3 months ago

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It's almost 3am and i start to get brain rotting of the idea where we married to Frederick and having an argument, what if we just put aphrodisiacs in his dinner and hide in the bedroom and locked so he can't come in nor do anything 😭

Wrong, he could beg at the bedroom window!

Here's my terrible rendition of such a scenario... No need to thank me.

#yoshi answers #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv frederick #frederick kreiburg #suggestive

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eliasmelody · 4 months ago

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Silent Struggles, Steady Hands

Tag: Victor x gn!reader, Frederick x gn!reader, Luchino (survivor) x gn!reader

WARNING: grammar & spelling, injury, trauma, panic attack, hurt/comfort, low self-esteem

✦.───────── ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ───────── .✦

Postman - Victor Grantz

You try to ignore the pain, forcing yourself to focus on decoding, but it’s so hard. The pressure mounts, and with every failed attempt, the fear of disappointing your teammates grows.

A small sound of barking breaks through the tension.

You glance down and see Wick, the adorable dog of your friend, standing there with the letter in her mouth. It must be for the decoding boost.

A sad smile forms on your face as you reach down to pat the dog’s head. She nudges the letter toward you, urging you to take it, but you shake your head gently.

Pushing it gently with your leg, the dog looks up at you with confusion, sensing the heaviness on your face. She hesitates for a moment before trotting away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You try to go back to decoding. Each attempt feels like you're sinking deeper, and the weight of not being able to keep up with everyone else makes it harder to focus.

The cipher blurs in front of you as your thoughts race, and for a moment. You clamp your mouth shut, fighting the wave of nausea that threatens to overwhelm you.

You hear the sound of barking again, distant at first but growing louder with each passing second.

Victor's little dog comes back, trotting toward you with surprising determination. The letter, still intact, is gripped firmly in her tiny mouth, but this time, there's something more, a small bundle of flowers, their delicate petals bright against the dullness of the surroundings. The dog’s tail wags excitedly as she approaches, as if proud of her owner offering.

A smile tugs at your lips, despite the weight of everything pressing down on you. You reach down, gently taking the flowers from the dog’s mouth, feeling their softness and the subtle warmth of the gesture.

But the letter… no, that remains untouched. You hesitate for a moment, your fingers brushing against the cool paper before pulling back. Insecure rock high, teetering on the edge, constantly questioning its stability.

"I... I'm thankful, but this should be sent to someone more useful than me."

The little dog doesn't seem content with your words, her tail wagging again as if trying to understand. She turns back the way she came.

The moment of distraction has passed, and you can feel the urgency creeping back in.

The cipher is now 70 percent complete. Every second counts. You can feel the weight of the clock ticking, your teammates are on their last chair, their trust in you hanging by a thread.

The panic starts creeping in again. You want to finish it, you need to finish it, but the pressure, the fear, the nagging feeling–

Bark.

You sigh, your patience worn thin, and turn toward the source of the noise. But then, you freeze. Standing beside the dog is its owner.

He smiles warmly at you, his presence almost immediately calming the frantic energy swirling inside your chest.

"Victor..." You murmur, caught off guard by the unexpected but welcome sight of him.

Without a word, he steps closer to the cipher, his fingers gently brushing over the lines you’ve been working on. His movements are steady and sure, a quiet reassurance that things will be okay. With each adjustment, the cipher seems less daunting, and the tension in your body eases, the shock of earlier no longer making your muscles tense.

Victor stops for a moment, rummaging through his pocket. He pulls out a folded letter and turns toward you, offering it with a soft smile.

You stare at the letter for a moment, a lump forming in your throat. You had almost forgotten about it, buried under the weight of everything else. The same letter the dog had brought, the one you’d turned away not one but two times.

But now, with Victor standing there, his calm presence offering a sense of quiet reassurance, you realize this might be the moment to take some kindness for yourself.

Third time’s the charm, as people always say. He’ll always find a way to deliver his message, with his heart on the line.

Composor - Frederick Kreiburg

In the middle of your musings, you notice that Frederick is staring at you with a slightly perplexed look.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asked, his voice filled with concern. "You seem.... distracted." he paused, eyeing you up and down.

You nod slowly, your head trembling slightly.

"I'm fine. Let's just focus on decoding…"

You fail the calibration once more, a frustrated groan slipping from your lips. The adrenaline that had been coursing through you earlier, keeping you sharp and alert, begins to fade. The lingering effects of the chase are slowly draining away, leaving you with nothing but exhaustion.

He took a step closer, his eyes now fixed on you, his expression a mixture of concern and contemplation. "You're hurt.." His eyes flickering over the fresh wounds.

"I said I'm fine—" You snap, but another failed calibration hits. A jolt of electricity from the cipher shakes your fingers, and you grit your teeth, desperate to push through the frustration.

He steps in smoothly, gently swatting your hand away from the cipher. "You're doing it wrong."

You frown at him, your expression hardening as a rush of frustration and old pain bubbles up.

"Wrong?!" You snap, the words sharp and edged with disbelief. "How can it be wrong? I’m following the steps!"

Frederick rolls his eyes at your exasperated outburst, his expression bordering on annoyance. "Yes, wrong."

He takes a step closer, his eyes fixed on the cipher as he examines it, his gaze sharp and precise.

"Too much pressure, too much force." He mutters under his breath, his voice low and calm despite your snapping.

You roll your eyes, the sarcasm dripping from your tone. "You expect people to decode gently and pretty when we're being chased?!" You snap, the words sharp and frustrated.

Frederick's gaze turns to you, his expression hardening at your defiant response.

"No, I expect you to do it efficiently and effectively, not fumble like a panicked and reckless fool." He retorted, his words sharp and biting.

Before you can snap back, he presses a key to demonstrate. "See this? You're choosing the wrong key. If you don't time it right, you’ll get shocked."

With a couple of quick presses, he fixes it, making the system run smoothly again.You watch, dumbfounded as he presses a key effortlessly, his fingers deftly working the machine.

"Now you try."

With a begrudging huff, you focus your attention on the machine, trying to mimic his movements with your own trembling hand.

"Too much hesitation" He critiques, his voice calm and steady. "Be more confident in your movements."

After a moment, he leans in closer, his eyes locking onto your trembling hand.

"Confidence comes from practice and repetition."

He takes your trembling hand in his, surprisingly gently despite his cold demeanor. With a firm touch, he guides it to the key, showing you the correct placement and pressure needed.

"Try again." He instructs, the authority in his tone brooking no argument.

You attempt to mimic his movements again, your hand now guided by his steady grip. He watches closely, observing every minor movement. His eyes scan over your trembling form to the wounds that litter your frame.

Eventually, you get the hang of it. The movements become smoother, more confident, and the cipher is almost prime now. A sense of contentment washes over you as you take a moment to look back at him.

"Much better." He remarks, his voice filled with a hint of approval. "Wait at the gate. I'll prime it." His eyes linger on you for a moment before he turns back to the cipher.

I should thank him later, you think to yourself as you run toward the gate. You can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for his steady presence, even if you’re too caught up in the moment to express it.

Your rhythm’s a tangled mess, but fortunately, as a composer, he knows just how to bring it back into harmony.

Professor - Luchino Diruse

You reach the cipher first, your body screaming in protest with every step. Every movement feels like a battle as you bend over the machine, the sharp, searing pain from your dislocated ankle making it almost impossible to focus.

The match has dragged on for far too long. With only two left, the air is thick with tension. But there’s still one more cipher to decode.

You’ve tried your best, pushing yourself to fight and find a way out, but the others don’t take it seriously.

To them, it’s all a joke, lost to the madness of the game. No matter how many times you try to save them or cover for their mistakes, they keep messing around, laughing like there are no consequences. You’re fighting alone, and with every failed attempt, the weight on you grows heavier.

You want to decode the cipher, you really do. But instead, you find yourself drawn to the corner of the small, cold house, your feet stumbling as you retreat into the shadows.

The harsh noise of the match, the ticking of the cipher machine, all fade away into a muffled blur. You curl up against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around yourself.

Later on, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching the small house. Luchino enters, his movements swift, the urgency in his eyes clear. The sight of you stops him in his tracks.

You avert your gaze, feeling a pang of guilt. You know how much the survivors hate it when someone isn’t decoding or doing something useful. Bracing yourself, waiting for the inevitable harsh words.

The last thing you ever expected was for him to come closer, kneeling in front of you. The weight of his presence makes your breath catch in your throat.

"Hey... are you alright?" His voice is warm, softer than you'd expect given the circumstances.

His hand reaches toward you, and instinctively, you flinch, but no pain comes. Hesitantly, you peek your eyes open to see him holding out one of his scales to you.

"Here. You’re gonna need it for later." He says quietly, his voice low but steady. The words hang in the air, simple yet heavy with meaning.

He observes you for a while, his gaze softening as he takes in the quiet exhaustion in your eyes. "You tried your best." He says, the words gentle but carrying an unexpected weight.

The sudden warmth of his recognition breaks something inside you, and before you can stop it, tears start to spill from your eyes.

"I– I don't deserve–" The words break through your tears, but you can't finish the sentence.

"You’ve done enough, and you’ll make it through." He reassured, his words feel like a promise, though they hang heavy in the air.

He wipes away some of your tears, his touch surprisingly gentle. With a soft gesture, he signals for you to be quiet, his eyes scanning the room as if to remind you of the danger still lurking.

After you take the scale, he stands up and returns to the cipher. You watch him for a moment, sitting frozen in the corner, your body tense. Doesn't he know? Decoding the cipher will reveal both of your locations to the hunter.

The heavy sound of footsteps grows louder, each step echoing through the room. Your heart races, the fear tightening in your chest. The hunter is coming closer, and you watch Luchino, standing in position.

For a brief moment, he glances over his shoulder. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, a strange, knowing expression in his eyes.

Ping: The dungeon is here!

You widen your eyes in confusion. At the back of the house? But for the dungeon to open, there must be one of you left.

The hunter’s attention shifts immediately, chasing after him into the open. In the chaos, they don’t see you tucked in the corner. A mixture of fear and gratitude rushes over you. You grip the scale tightly, an invisible shield form around you.

Trapped in this madness too long, genius and insanity have fused in his mind. Looking at you reminds him of his last humanity.

✦.───────── ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ───────── .✦ Art work: Identity Wiki ✦.───────── ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ───────── .✦

The ideas is awesome! ❤️ I hope you don't mind me changing the plot a little. I just wanna write some unique sight of how they would react in different circumstances other than just escorting us to the gate. This fic can both read as a slow burn romantic or platonic as you wish.

#idv #identity v #identity v x reader #idv x reader #idv victor #victor grantz #victor grantz x reader #idv postman #idv frederick #frederick kreiburg #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv composer #idv luchino #luchino diruse #luchino diruse x reader #idv professor #gn reader

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mercillery · 8 months ago

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You already know who this is lmao. Since you wrote Andrew perfectly from IDV I GOTTA see how you write Frederick relationship overview 🙏💕 I love my poor disgruntled ex prodigee French man

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: I’ve got nothing to say about Frederick mains yet because I stopped playing around his release…but i’m sure his mains are fun to play with. I imagine they accidentally pop ciphers a lot too.

At first, Frederick would charm you in a way that feels almost unfair, like he’s playing a game you didn’t know you’d signed up for???

You’d find yourself completely entranced by Frederick—there’s no escaping it. This man doesn’t just walk into a room; he makes an entrance with a grace so smooth it practically slides in on polished shoes. He’s got this natural elegance that makes you wonder if he spends his weekends secretly training under some Victorian-era etiquette coach.

Every word, every subtle movement, is meticulously chosen to leave a lasting impression. You can almost hear a soundtrack playing whenever he talks. His gaze? Oh, it’s not just looking at you; it’s reading your very soul, flipping through your emotional pages like a well-loved book. This guy has the power to sweep any lady off their feet, whether they want to be swept or not. But don’t get too worried—you’re not just anyone to Frederick.

Dating Frederick is like a high-stakes thriller with poetic intermissions. When he’s chosen you as his focus, you’ll know it. He’s as devoted as a knight in shining armor with an artistic twist. Forget flowers—he’s out there composing symphonies that embody the way you laugh or the way you wrinkle your nose when you’re annoyed.

And yes, he’s that extra. But it’s not all rainbows and heartfelt sonatas. His passion runs as deep as the Mariana Trench, and with that comes a protective streak that would put guard dogs to shame.

His moments of jealousy? Let’s just say he doesn’t do halfway—Frederick only knows extremes. If you so much as wave at your barista a second too long, brace yourself for a brooding soliloquy about loyalty and his existential fear of being forgotten.

See, the man doesn’t just want to be liked or loved; he needs to be your everything. He’s got this internal scoreboard and if he’s not winning the gold medal in your heart, what’s the point? To Frederick, being mediocre is worse than losing—it’s being invisible, and he won’t settle for that. And honestly, why should he?

When it comes to love, Frederick doesn't do simple—no, he composes entire symphonies that could put Hollywood’s most dramatic love themes to shame. His idea of showing affection? It’s nothing short of an epic masterpiece.

You’d find yourself at the center of a grand concerto, where each note is painstakingly crafted to echo the highs, the lows, and those delicious in-betweens of your relationship. And, of course, private performances would become as routine as morning coffee.

Picture this: Frederick seated at a piano, fingers dancing across the keys, eyes darting to your face every other second as if he's trying to capture every flicker of your reaction. Is that awe? Is that admiration? Good. He’ll take that as a win. Your approval? It’s like a five-star review in a world where his love language is measured in crescendos and decrescendos.

But let's not forget—Frederick is a hopeless romantic, the kind who’s read Wuthering Heights one too many times and thought, Yeah, I can top that.

Love letters? Oh, they’re not just notes; they’re beautifully penned, metaphor-laden works of art that could make Shakespeare sit down and take notes. Candlelit concerts? He’s already planned three for next month, complete with a playlist that rivals the greatest romantic ballads in history.

And the surprises don’t stop there; you'll find flowers and little notes tucked into places you'd never expect: your bag, the fridge, maybe even the laundry hamper (don’t ask how they got there).

But for all his flair, Frederick isn’t just about grand gestures. There are those quieter, softer moments that catch you off guard and remind you that his love is as layered as one of his symphonies.

A simple lean of his head on your shoulder while you read, a touch so subtle you almost question if it happened, or that electric, intense gaze from across a crowded room—those moments are like a secret shared between the two of you. It’s like speaking an unspoken language, one where every glance and touch is a verse in an ever-unfolding poem that only the two of you understand.

Frederick’s sensitivity is a double-edged sword in your relationship, like owning a cat that’s both affectionate and completely unpredictable. On one hand, his perceptiveness is unmatched. This man could tell you’re upset from the way you’re stirring your coffee or the subtle shift in your smile.

Before you even have the chance to sigh, he’s there with those eyes full of concern, ready to listen and offer comfort that feels like a warm blanket on a cold day. It’s this deep empathy that forges an almost magical connection between you two, making you feel seen and understood in a way that’s rare. When Frederick’s with you, he’s with you—body, mind, and soul.

But there’s a catch, and it’s a big one.

His own emotions are about as stable as a teetering Jenga tower in the middle of an earthquake. Frederick feels everything on a scale of 1 to 100, with no in-between. Did you forget to say goodnight because you fell asleep? Prepare for an orchestra of internal questioning that could rival Hamlet’s soliloquy. Did you compliment a friend’s new jacket without immediately reassuring him that he still has the best taste in the room? Cue the silent spiral of doubt. He doesn’t just overthink—he over-operas. (Am I funny yet or do I just sound corny?)

Reassurance isn’t just appreciated; it’s essential. A simple “I’m here for you” can turn his internal storm into a calm, clear sky. Without it, his mind becomes a symphony of self-doubt, complete with the tragic overture of “Are they slipping away?”

And while it might sound exhausting, knowing this about Frederick means you’re sharing in something unique: a relationship where vulnerability is met with raw honesty and a commitment to each other’s emotional landscapes. Just be prepared for those moments when your calming words are the only thing standing between him and a full Shakespearean-level existential crisis.

While Frederick effortlessly projects an aura of undeniable charm and sophistication, it’s in those rare, private moments that you get to see beyond the polished exterior. These are the times when the cracks in his armor show, and you catch glimpses of the man behind the grandeur.

He’ll sit beside you, the gleam in his eyes softened, and open up about the disappointments that still gnaw at him. He’ll talk about the aching void left by his estranged family, the times he felt abandoned, and the relentless fear of mediocrity that follows him like a shadow he can’t shake.

It’s then you realize that his vanity isn’t just there to dazzle; it’s a well-crafted shield, desperately protecting the perfection-seeking artist who’s terrified of being truly seen and found wanting. In these moments, your acceptance of him—raw, imperfect, and honest—is worth more than a standing ovation at a sold-out concert.

But, spoiler alert: listening quietly won’t cut it.

He doesn’t just want to see that you’re present; he needs to hear your voice, feel your words like a balm on his frayed nerves. A silent nod isn’t enough when his mind is a cacophony of insecurities. He craves your reassurance like it’s the only song that can drown out the dissonance of self-doubt.

Then there are those times when Frederick’s paranoia takes center stage, and his brain transforms into a crime scene investigator looking for clues of your potential disinterest. Did you pause a beat too long before answering a question? He’ll dissect that silence like a forensic expert, eyes narrowing as if you just handed him the Rosetta Stone of heartbreak.

Even your simplest words or expressions are put under a microscope, magnified until he’s convinced he’s found proof that you’re slipping away. And yes, this can lead to some tension that’ll have you wondering if you’re in a relationship or a 24/7 reality show with constant performance reviews.

But here’s the twist—your patience and understanding are the keys to unlocking the security he craves. Sure, it might feel like you’re on an emotional tightrope at times, but when you take that moment to reassure him, to tell him he’s enough, you’ll see the tension melt away, and the storm in his eyes settle. Your steady, confident love is what helps Frederick silence the relentless chorus of doubt, making him feel seen, cherished, and—finally—secure.

Frederick has an eye for beauty, a radar for aesthetics, and a deep appreciation for life’s most elegant experiences, so if you’re with him, get ready for a whirlwind of high-class romance. Dates with Frederick aren’t just nights out—they’re productions.

Picture this: a night at the opera where he’s reserved the best seats, just for you and him, leaning close to whisper his insights on the music while his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your arm. Or an evening spent at a prestigious art gallery where he guides you from piece to piece, sharing stories and perspectives that make the artwork come alive.

Even a simple walk in the park with Frederick is elevated; he’s not just strolling—he’s carefully navigating to the most scenic routes, stopping at every blooming flower and golden-lit pond to take in the view and share a quiet moment of awe with you. He’ll glance at you with that expectant smile, as if to say, Isn’t this incredible?—and yes, he’ll definitely be checking to see if you agree.

And yes, if you’re wondering, he does have standards—expectations, even. Frederick doesn’t want to enjoy these experiences alone; he wants to bask in your shared appreciation, revel in your mutual admiration for art, architecture, and all things exceptional.

He’ll be delighted to show you off to his social circle, introducing you with a certain pride, as if you’re the finest piece in his collection of treasured things. But with that comes an unspoken agreement that you’ll match his refined demeanor and partake in his world of cultured conversation and elegant gestures.

Now, don’t get me wrong, he’s not expecting you to memorize 18th-century sonatas overnight or debate the merits of impressionism versus post-impressionism at every cocktail party. But if he catches even the slightest yawn during a concert or a vague, non-committal “It was fine” when he asks your thoughts on an exhibit—oh boy, brace yourself.

His brows will furrow in a way that says Is this really happening?, and suddenly, the air will feel a bit tense, like you’ve hit a wrong note in the symphony of his evening. He thrives on shared enthusiasm, so when he doesn’t see that spark in your eyes, he’s left wondering if you’re really on the same page or if you’d rather be anywhere else.

The key to navigating these moments? Patience and a touch of reassurance that, yes, you’re in this for the full experience—fancy outfits, whispered critiques at the opera, picturesque paths and all.

One thing about Frederick? He holds mediocrity in absolute contempt. This extends beyond his own aspirations and into the realm of your relationship, which, to him, is just another area where greatness must reign supreme.

If you're with Frederick, get ready for a personal coach, cheerleader, and, occasionally, an overly intense life mentor wrapped into one. He’ll push you to chase your dreams and won’t just clap when you reach a milestone—he’ll give you a standing ovation, complete with dramatic applause.

But with that passionate encouragement comes an edge; Frederick will also be your most unsparing critic, the kind who’ll say, “That was good, but it could be phenomenal,” right when you’re ready to celebrate. It’s motivating, sure, but if you don’t share his relentless pursuit of excellence or just need a break now and then, it might feel like you’re jogging beside someone who’s running an ultra-marathon…

If you really want Frederick to beam like he just won an award, show a genuine love for his craft or nurture a passion of your own. Respect for talent and hard work is practically woven into his DNA, so when he sees that you have your own spark, that’s when you become more than just a partner—you’re his muse, his equal, the one who fuels his artistic spirit.

Conversations with Frederick are not your run-of-the-mill small talk. Forget chatting about the weather or weekend plans; he’s here to unravel the mysteries of the human mind, ponder the nature of ambition, and debate the intricacies of creativity.

His interest in dissecting emotions, motivations, and talent isn’t just a casual hobby; it’s like he’s running a one-man TED Talk every time he opens his mouth.

And you? You’ll probably find yourself nodding along, wide-eyed, captivated by the way he speaks with such eloquence that even the most mundane statement sounds profound.

Honestly, he could say, “An orange is orange,” and you’d be nodding like, “Absolutely, that’s so true,” while trying not to swoon from the sheer brilliance of his delivery.

That said, these conversations aren’t just one-sided lectures. Frederick expects engagement, intellectual back-and-forth, even if it turns into a bit of a debate. And make no mistake—he’s got strong opinions and isn’t afraid to challenge yours, especially when it comes to art and talent.

But here’s the thing: he respects those who can spar with him in these verbal duels. If you stand your ground and hold your own, you’ll earn a rare, approving smile that makes all those philosophical tangents worth it.

Plus, there’s something quite mesmerizing about listening to him—his voice, rich and confident, pulls you in, and you’re left thinking, “Yes, Frederick, tell me more about the complexities of human nature and why oranges are orange,” while internally planning your Nobel Prize acceptance speech for keeping up with him.

Beneath Frederick’s air of grandeur and confident public persona, there’s a side of him that only you get to see—a soft, almost fragile version of himself that craves simple, unguarded intimacy. These are the moments when he lets the mask slip and the weight of being Frederick Kreiburg, the heir, the prodigy, the perfectionist, melts away.

It’s in these quiet interludes that you find him seeking solace, laying his head in your lap as you read, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your knee while he closes his eyes, enjoying the rare sense of peace. He doesn’t need to fill the silence with grand words or impressive declarations. In your shared space, the performance is over; he’s just Frederick, vulnerable and human, grateful that he doesn’t have to strive for perfection in your presence. Your presence alone is enough to soothe the symphony of doubt that usually plays on loop in his mind.

And while he might dazzle the crowds with his musical prowess and philosophical musings, one of his quieter passions is equestrianism—a skill that, unlike many of his pursuits, isn’t about impressing others but about finding a rare moment of freedom. It’s a pastime that lets him shed the pressure and simply enjoy life for what it is, the rhythmic pounding of hooves syncing with his heartbeat as he gallops across open fields, feeling the wind tug at his platinum hair.

When he invites you to join him on horseback rides, it’s more than just an activity; it’s an invitation into this private realm where he feels unburdened and alive. Teaching you to ride? Oh, he’ll approach it with all the patience and joy that he usually reserves for his most cherished pursuits. He’ll guide you with an amused smile as you find your balance, his hand never straying too far from yours, ready to steady you at the slightest wobble.

But nothing makes his heart lift quite like seeing you experience the same exhilaration that riding brings him. That shared thrill—the wind in your hair, the laughter that bubbles up as you both race through sun-dappled trails—is something he treasures. It’s one of the few times where his worries, ambitions, and relentless pursuit of excellence fade into the background, and it’s just the two of you, free and unbound.

And when he looks over at you, eyes bright and a grin cracking through his otherwise composed demeanor, you realize that, yes, this is Frederick at his happiest—not the heir or the virtuoso, but a man who, for once, is simply living in the moment, sharing it with the one person who makes it all more vibrant.

Ah, the shadows of Frederick’s past—a specter that never quite left him, always lingering in the corners of his mind, whispering doubts and sowing restlessness. There are days when this presence looms larger, and he becomes a man consumed by his inner turmoil, pacing like a caged lion or retreating into the sanctuary of his study.

In these moments, it’s like he’s waging a war with his thoughts, wrestling with the frustration of creative blocks or the relentless voice that tells him he’s never enough. He might shut the world out, drowning himself in a storm of music that’s as chaotic as his thoughts, fingers flying over the keys, each note a plea for peace that never quite comes.

It’s during these times that your role is both simple and profound. You may not know it, but your quiet, unwavering presence is the lighthouse guiding him through the storm.

A soft touch, the brush of your hand against his arm as you pass by, or just sitting in the room while he spirals—these things are the lifelines he doesn’t always know how to ask for but desperately needs. And while you might think that just being there isn’t enough, oh, how wrong you’d be.

The truth is, your patience and silent support do more than calm the chaos; they remind him that he isn’t alone in the struggle. Your reassurance is like a hidden chord in his symphony, one he clings to when the rest feels dissonant.

Of course, it’s not always easy. There will be times when the emotional weight feels as if it’s pressing down on you too, and you catch yourself thinking, Is this worth it?

And then you remember—remember the man behind the polished façade, the one who laughs a little too loudly when he’s truly caught off guard, or who looks at you with such raw, unguarded affection that it makes your heart stutter. The one who finds solace in resting his head in your lap and who lights up when he shares the simple joy of a horseback ride. The man who, despite his brilliance and bravado, is just as flawed and human as anyone else.

And in those moments, it doesn’t feel so exhausting. It feels like you’re part of something beautiful and rare—like you’re holding a piece of someone that no one else gets to touch, no matter how flawless his public persona may seem.

You realize that while being with Frederick comes with its trials, it also comes with moments of breathtaking vulnerability and love so consuming that it makes every struggle worth it. Because underneath the charm, the intensity, and the restless ambition is a man who, at the end of the day, needs you more than he’ll ever admit out loud. And that? That makes it all worthwhile.

#frederick kreiburg #Frederick kreiburg x reader #idv x you #idv x reader #identity v x you #identity v x reader #identity v #idv headcanons #identity v headcanons #THIS ONE IS FOR THE FREDERICK LOVERS 🎤🎤🎤

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turbulentscrawl · 1 year ago

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Modern Reader Shorts

This is just a couple little blurb ideas I had that can't really be used for anything else. No warnings, really, it's mostly humor.

Luchino

“Your socks are mis-matched,” the professor announces offhandedly, sorting his notes. You’re laid out on the cushy chair in his ‘office,’ shoes off and legs dangling from one arm. And it’s true, your socks are different colors.

“Yeah, I couldn’t be bothered to find an actual pair this morning,” you answer. Luchino pauses and looks pointedly over at you, through his lashes, and squints a bit. That’s his thinking face, you note. Like he’s working through an equation.

“You’re not concerned about being judged for the state of your attire?” he asks.

“Not really. It’s not like anyone really sees my socks anyway.”

“Well, I’m seeing them now. It’s a messy look,” he finally says. There’s the smallest of smirks on his face as he says it. This is some unspoken test, a probe of your reactions. He does a lot of those.

“Okay, but you already know I’m a mess so what the fuck difference does that make?”

Luchino snorts a laugh at your response, and then coos a casual “touché.”

Frederick

“Has anyone ever told you ‘you have a slutty little waist’?” You call out to Fred. His fingers slip on the piano keys and the song comes to a cacophonous halt. He’s frozen still with his back to you��his dorito-looking back with its broad shoulders and snatched waist. You know by experience the man is boney as hell, so how dare he have such a silhouette?

“N-“ Fred coughs, voice croaking. “No, I can’t say that they have.” You can’t see his face, so you wonder if it’s shock or humor that makes him stutter.

“Well, you do,” you reply. A long silence settles over the room. He never dares to look at you, but you think you see pink turning at the tip of his ear.

“Was there anything else?” he asks. His fingers hesitantly move to restart the song.

“Nope. I just thought you should know.” You suppress a giggle as Fred clears his throat and begins playing again.

Robbie (platonic, obviously)

“There’s…games on this?” the too-tall headless boy asked, holding your phone in his discolored hands. He’d been asking around for a playmate all evening, until he found you. You weren’t much of a hide-and-seek type of person, however, and thought this might entertain him a bit in the meantime.

“Sure is! I’ve got crosswords, sudoku, Candy Crush, plenty of stuff!” You reach and tap around on your phone’s screen, pulling up the list of games you’d downloaded to pass the time, when you still lived in a place where there was time to pass. Candy Crush springs to life on the screen and Robbie flinches, nearly dropping your phone.

“It’s so bright…and loud,” he muttered. It was half awe, and half distress, you thought. Too stimulating for the boy, perhaps. You tried sudoku instead—it was a dark screen with no music, but by the time you’d explained the rules to Robbie, he was limp and snoozing against your shoulder.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #luchino diruse x reader #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv professor #idv composer #multiple idv characters #turbulentscrawl

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bl4nk-card · 2 months ago

Note

hey! your aesop request was amazing, i hope it's okay if i request again :)

may i ask for frederick falling for a vocalist s/o, who is confident onstage but shy when she's in front of others?

" First Step.

🎹🎤 ~ > 𝔉𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔎𝔯𝔢𝔦𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔤 & f! [vocalist] reader (you ♡)

a/n: hiii hii hii! hope this was good! i wrote about their first time meeting <3

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔱 :

𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭, (𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞), 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲. 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝. 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 … 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 : 𝔱𝔴 / 𝔠𝔴 :

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

the journey in music demands for nothing less than perfection and absolution. there has never been enough time to waste for empty friendships and distractions; one's heart must be dedicated if they wish to be the best among all.

this is what he thought.

it had always been this way for frederick, his mind set solid on pursuing music and dedicating his time to the art, never ceasing his chase even during the most scarring situations in his undeniably miserable life.

to him, it was perfection or nothing.

hence why he attended the concert of the city's new vocalist.

and god, was it ... worth it. every moment of the concert; her vocals, her voice, her. frederick, for the first time in god knows how long, felt pulled to the opportunity of approaching the vocalist. he had his attention focused on her figure as she sang, finding it in himself reluctantly wanting to talk to her.

the utter control she held in her vibratos was a sight he would never forget. how she could do it so effortlessly was a wonder he could never come to answer.

(name), a truly magnificent form of art. never has frederick admired anything so profoundly, believing in his own capabilities of music and being impressed only by the fewest individuals. he has long lost the admiration he beheld once for people, his curiosity overshadowed by the shameful mediocrity everyone unfortunately had.

.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. AFTER THE PERFORMANCE

(name) was exhausted. relieved that the show was over, she felt at peace knowing that she no longer had to exert such energy when she finally makes it to her room---

" pardon me, " a rather soothing voice called. and came into her view was a man in red, a cane behind his back. " i do wish i am not ... intruding or interrupting you. i couldn't help but personally give you my appreciation of your ... delightful talent in singing. "

(name) felt a sense of tension in her body, suddenly feeling the need to look away or hide elsewhere. this has happened quite a lot --- where admirers come close after a performance, but for an odd reason, it felt a little more intense with this individual in particular. his controlled tone, his clothes, his very demeanor --- it felt as if he was of the higher class. wealthy, that is certain.

" thank you, mr..? " she held on, voice a little softer.

" kreiburg, " the pianist continued, straightening his back just a little bit. however, he couldn't resist wandering his gaze down and away. it was a hard habit to break as he has, for so long, strayed away from friendly exchanges. " frederick kreiburg. "

(name) acknowledged the information with a nearly-silent hum before facing the direction she was initially headed towards.

" mr. kreiburg, it is lovely to have met you this evening. " (name) nodded, " however, i must retire to my room--- "

" hold on, " the pianist held her there, almost taking a step forward. as he further analyzed her face, that tired yet intrigued expression, he made out the shy and meek expression that she held yet tried to push away. " would.. would it be a burden for two musicians to perhaps, merge their work? "

(name) is taken aback by the request, prolonging the silence by a few seconds. " sorry? "

" i am a musician myself, " frederick murmured, hesitating for a moment. he did not know if he was being too straightforward. too intrusive. " a pianist. and ... i do see a certain potential in a performance hosted by you and i. a duet, even. "

was he doing too much? what if he looked like a creep? she would certainly decline. what was he thinking? the city's favorite vocalist would certainly spread word about him, deeming him a sick wretch with ill intensions---

" i would love to, mr. kreiburg, " (name) breathed out at last. her eyes seemed brighter with joy, and yet they flickered away similarly to his own in response to shyness. " i would be delighted! "

questions swarmed the pianist's head. was she not freaked out by him? did she not see him some dirty, eerie fan who'd follow her everywhere?

the vocalist suddenly reached for a nearby attendance sheet, ripping off a tiny piece and writing on the empty space with the quill beside it. she then, so quickly, held frederick's gloved hand and almost pushed the folded paper too hard (out of panic) into his grasp before excusing herself for the night, shying away from the man.

frederick could barely catch himself as he, almost instinctively, wanted so terribly to reach out. for her to stay.

dazed by disbelief, both from having just directly spoken to his admired vocalist and having a note with her own writing in his hands, frederick opened the note with trembling fingers. and there, he read its contents.

may 21st, [year] a duet prompted by (name), the city's vocalist, and another musician, whose names are signed below. signed: [SIGNATURE] signed: (name) (duet partner/s) - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

mr. kreiburg, 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦; 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘵. 𝘪𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦! 𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪. (name)

(name)'s signature was there, so beautifully scripted by her own hand. perhaps it was worth the panic when he approached.

with the slightest hesitance, frederick's eyes fluttered ever so slightly before bringing the page closer up to his face. he then neared the paper to his lips and whispered against the page,

" a duet, it shall be. "

... one of the concert attendees almost had their mouth agape at his action to which the pianist responded with a repressed glare, coughing quietly to seem as if he was just relieving himself from some health problem and definitely not trying to calm himself down from getting a heart attack.

the sight of the attendee running off had frederick rolling his eyes. if there was anything a potential eavesdropper would see, it would be his 'rudeness', not the burning of his cheeks from embarrassment.

✧༺♥༻ END

#frederick kreiburg #idv composer #identity v #idv #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv composer x reader #frederick kreiburg x female reader

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bloodfiendarling · 6 months ago

Text

𝓶𝔂𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓾𝓶 𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

a .. anon chan ...? oh my god .. are you a mind reader ? a saint , perhaps ..? ive had a similar idea for months , i just never got to writing it (shy ,,)

thank u so so much for the idv req >_< i didnt think id get any so early .. this fic took heavy inspo from saya no uta , too .. i rlly did give him the fuminori treatment ..

another case of — written by my dick — this is so horrible .. im so sorry frederick sama ..

DEAD DOVE : DO NOT EAT .

pairing — pioneer research!frederick x hallucinated!reader

wc — ~1.1k

contains — coa vii setting, fem reader (the form reader takes , i guess . theyre kind of not real ..), reader referred to with it/its prns, mindfuck, dubcon .? (is it dubcon if hes on shrooms and doing it to himself . i gen dont know, emeto, body horror, hallucinations, reader is a hallucination, self harm (scratching), established past relationship w reader

playing .. mushrooms • mili

even in such a desolate land, frederick still has the desire to create his work — his music. the composer’s desire for creation still persists, and with the chaos, he found inspiration.

…and unluckily for him, he had a slump.

nothing in the current area could inspire him for music. it frustrated him. even as he played away on the abandoned piano he found — nothing quite stuck to him right. it all felt too empty.

so tonight, frederick decided on leaving. just for one night, though. he’ll return by the next morning, of course — it’d be too dangerous to stay any longer. and where’s the harm in it, anyway? him and his team have been hopping from abandoned building to another.. be it to study more about the fungi or just to rest up.

he took a pen and paper, writing a note to leave behind — a short one, but at the very least it told them he’ll be fine… he’s sure qi will be scolding him afterwards, but.. it’d be well worth it.

as he signed it, he left it on the dirty table they’ve been using. taking his gas-mask to leave. the world is barren. everything was abandoned, there were those mushrooms everywhere. everything within frederick’s field of vision was nothing but a wasteland.

after a good, long walk he stumbled upon an abandoned music venue. it was big — it was grand. he’s sure he could find some inspiration and maybe even a new instrument.

little did the composer know, the venue was a big source of mycelium fungi.

he opened the heavy doors, looking around. a big stage in the middle, and seats all around for the audience to sit. it brought him back to his past for a bit — when he was shown on a stage — being praised for his music. ‘it was like a ray of divine light,’ they’d say.

that stage still had a piano on it. he walked between the empty seats, making his way onto the stage. the piano… it somehow still looked brand new, weirdly enough. it even sounded just like so, properly tuned and cared for.

it didn’t feel real. he thought he was dreaming. frederick sat himself down, performing as if there was an audience. he hasn’t gotten the chance to use such high-quality equipment ever since the infection spread.. he’ll definitely stay for a little longer.

even if it wasn’t real.

the composer peeked around backstage, and somehow, it looked clean. nothing like what he’d usually see. an infected corpse, bloodied walls, some mycelium growing.. none of that. it looked polished in here.. he’ll tell his group he found a new place for them when he gets back.

even if it was filthy in a sane man’s eyes.

it was getting late — he could tell that much. he’s sure his group wouldn’t mind if he came back a little later. he has in the past, anyway.. it didn’t make much problems. he sat down, back against a wall, just looking at all the equipment backstage before drifting to a dreamless sleep.

only to be woken up by a horrible sight. everything looked different from last night. no longer was it that clean place he saw the night before. it was horrid. worse than anything he’s ever seen — flesh and mushrooms coating the walls. the floor felt moist, almost as if it were actual meat. and the smell — god, the smell. poor frederick threw his head to the side and threw up. his throat burns. what even happened here..? was last night all fake?

it got worse when he saw those flesh-like veins start to crawl all over body. with wide eyes, he scratched and hit himself. it didn’t hurt, oddly enough. his body felt weirdly numb — though, frederick was a little too disoriented to notice.

“are you okay, frederick?”

he heard a voice. a woman’s voice — you..? how..?

it can’t be real — but it looked and sounded just like reality. just like you. could it be a hallucination..? no, no.. he’s seen how his groupmates reacted to the mycelium’s hallucinogenic spores — none of them ever mentioned anything like this.. he would know. it’s happened to him a few times before, too.

he placed his hand over his gas-mask, only for it to have a fleshy feel. he could see teeth and blood on his palm — panicking, the composer grabbed onto the mask of his, not realizing it was, in fact — his gas-mask. in his mind, it looked like a piece of gore had latched onto his face. he pulled onto it hopelessly. he wanted it off.

“ah, you’ll hurt yourself..” you cup his face, slowly taking the mask off. in frederick eyes, it really was a young woman helping him discard the living flesh off his face — letting him take a breath. though, it was nothing like that in reality.

he had just taken off his mask in a high risk area.

it felt like fresh air — though he was overwhelmed by the smell of rot after a few seconds, gagging. he can’t help but still see ‘you’ as a fake. but he can’t help but still give in.

“what are you doing here by yourself, anyway..?” it asks.

his jaw locked up, he can’t say anything. frederick looks down, he looks ashamed, almost. why? he didn’t know, either. he just knew whatever it was, it was you — and he’ll believe entirely.

“does it hurt, frederick?” it asks, caressing frederick’s cheek. ‘you’ could see a few red scratch marks on them.. ah.. the way it said those words — alongside those gentle actions. it really was you here in his mind. he can’t help but nod, pressing his knees against his chest and rambling nonsense.

“everything — all of it hurts.” he mumbled. ‘you’ wanted to comfort the composer. and he wanted that comfort, too — he longed for you after you disappeared. who knew he’d find you here of all places.

“do you want me to make you feel good, frederick?”

of course he did. he wanted you again. he missed you. he craved for you. your warmth. you. the composer didn’t care if this ‘you’ wasn’t real.

he watched you climb on top of him, pressing featherlight kisses onto him. as if fungi wasn’t already seeping into his tongue. frederick wrapped his arms around ‘you’ — when in reality they were enveloping himself — scratching red, bloody lines into his skin.

more openings for the spores to use him as a host. for ‘you’ to use him as a dear host.

frederick’s nose started bleeding, some of it had gotten into his ear — though, he paid no mind to it.. it felt like little kisses and bites on his earlobe — just like how you did it back then.

he felt your hands around his neck, how your lips felt against them, too. ah, he was in pure bliss. even if the room looked and smelled like rot — at least ‘you’ — no, it — was here to make him forget about everything.

maybe the rest of his group wouldn’t mind if he just left..

maybe he should stay just a little longer

idv masterlist ♥︎

#♱ library of ruins .#♱ bitter chocolate .#♱ butcher vanity .#✸ oletus manor .#✸ call of abyss .#✦ frederick kreiburg .#i hope i dont scare anyone with this ..#walks away ..#frederick kreiburg #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv #identity v #idv x reader #frederick x reader #dark content #dead dove do not eat #dead dove

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kohabielnin · 1 year ago

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Headcanons Frederick and Norton as lovers

Originally I made these two Christmas hdcs for my friend who really loves Norton and Frederick, and I decided to post them too

Fool's Gold/ Norton Campbell

• He can be a little difficult at first because of his distrust of anyone, but over time he can be someone who cares a lot about you,

• Because he doesn't have money to give gifts, he prefers to stay by your side, even if he has no business, just the fact that he wants to be by your side is proof of his love,

• If you are in doubt about what to give him as a gift, I'll give you a tip, money, regardless of the amount he will be happy, but if the amount is large, his smile will be even bigger,

• In matches where he goes against you, even if he sees you, he will simply ignore you and eliminate the other Survivors, as he would hate to have to hurt you,

• If the Baron fights with him because of this, he will follow you, after having eliminated the others of course, and ask if you want to run away or go to the chair,

• He tends to be a little moody and annoying sometimes, when he is in these periods, give him some money and make him lunch, soon his mood will improve

Frederick Kreiburg

• As a nobleman and composer, he can be a bit arrogant at times wanting to be alone with his piano, don't take him the wrong way and just let him calm down more,

• He really likes to spoil you, so don't be surprised if you wake up to a maid knocking on your door with your favorite breakfast,

• His love language is acts of service, meaning he's more than expected to play the piano for you and even teach you how to play your favorite songs,

• If he feels inspired, he may well compose a song especially for you,

• If you go to a match together, he won't take his eyes off you to make sure Hunter doesn't touch you,

• If you go to a game without him, you can be sure you'll have a worried Frederick when you get back to the mansion, and if you come back injured, he'll be furious and take pleasure in Hunter.

#frederick kreiburg x reader #fool's gold x reader #identity v x reader #identity v #frederick kreiburg #fool's gold idv

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lumenwoodd · 11 months ago

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Some Fredericks bc I luv him

#identity v #idv #idv fanart #not a knight #idv composer #idv frederick #frederick kreiburg #frederick kreiburg x reader #frederick kreiburg x you #idv x reader #idv x you

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entomologistt · 5 months ago

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Frederick Kreiburg x Fem! reader

Plot/Content: Before the match, you are offered a plate of shrimp. 🦐 But you consider declining it, even if it is your favourite… How do they know??

And more importantly—why in front of the others?? You wouldn’t dare eat shrimp in front of the others! Because… You don’t know how to unpeel the shell properly. And you cannot eat in front of people even if your life depended on it.

You’d rather go against opera singer, the shadow, goatman, hullabaloo—whoever is the strongest hunter here. But a certain composer notices your internal struggle, and offers to help you. <3 🦐

Ento note: Requested by anon! Me 🤝 you: unable to unpeel shrimp shells… This is why you get the frozen ones without shell🙂‍↕️ Also! Using Dragon hunter art makes me want to write for him… another essence au I’d like to write for is Sophia… Maybe one day! Also apologies if this is a little mid, I finished this while on the verge of passing out.

Wc: 1,575k

You pulled the chair out for yourself at the table, sitting down as you yawned, tapping at the surfacewhilst you waited for the oters.

Suddenly, the strange creature that sat at the table wandered off, returning with a plate… The strange creature hops onto the table, pushing the dish in front of you. What’s this?

You look down at the plate with a surprised expression… Huh. So now it’s just you, and your beloved…

Shrimp.

Oh, how you’d been craving the seafood delicacy since… forever! How did they know this was your favourite food?

Should you… reject it? Refuse it? Why would you refuse something that looked so delicious? Well… Your reasoning was unlike the Lawyer’s who refused to eat here.

You considered refusing because you struggled to peel off the shell…. Yeah. The way you eat shrimp, you were sure they others would look at you like how they looked at Naib when he eats at those parties.

Plus, you never ate shrimp around people! It was an unspoken rule you had set for yourself.

You’d surely die of embarrassment with how you basically ripped the shrimp apart like an animal, not knowing how to deal with it properly.

Nobody else was at the table yet, so maybe you can eat in peace without humiliating yourself.

Out of curiousity, you looked over the table’s contents, the other dishes that were neatly placed in their designated spots. A bowl of cream of mushroom soup, a plate of crystal gummies, and a cup of orange juice.

You wondered who those belonged to… Well, they aren’t here yet—so it’s you versus time.

You knew rushing to eat was bad, but it will all be worth it once you taste the shrimp’s delicate flesh, the flavours melting on your tongue… with hints of shell.

You immediately took the fork and butter knife into your hands, ready to rip apart the shrimp and get it over with. Nobody was here to judge you, and you were fighting against fate, and right now, it’s just you and the shrimp ready to be devoured.

However, the world seems to hate you as you hear footsteps approaching the table, your heart dropping to the floor. And with that, the chair next to yours was pulled out, the one with the mushroom soup.

It belonged to Frederick Kreiburg, the manor’s dearest composer.

Why him out of all people? If only you were faster! This is truly a tragedy, right??? Well, no, maybe you’re being overdramatic. You liked Frederick! And maybe… he simply wouldn’t care. Maybe.

Ahh but still…! You didn’t want him to see how you ate shrimp… Well, anyone for that matter!

You really are something if this is your biggest worry here at the manor.

“Good evening, Ms. L/n,” Frederick greeted you as he settled in his seat, placing his tuning forks down onto the table. His eyes meet yours, and you are quick to break the eye contact, your eyes now glued to the table. “Good evening to you as well… Mr. Kreiburg.”

Thinking your actions over, your eyes immediately flickered back onto his, a tight smile on your face. You haven’t gotten many chances to interact with Frederick, and now was your chance. Alone…

Frederick returned your smile, and you were glad he wasn’t as put off with you as he was with the others. Silence filled the space between you two as Frederick began to eat his mushroom soup.

You, on the other hand, stared down your at your own dish, sliding the shelled shrimp around the plate with your fork. You’ve already eaten the lettuce beds for the shrimp, so now… you wait.

Yeah, you’ll just wait this out, and when the match is done, you’ll ask for the shrimp later.

It was rather quiet you had no idea what to talk about… Maybe about the upcoming match? Well, maybe not, he seemed content with the silence—

“Do you… not like shrimp?” Frederick suddenly spoke up, questioning you as your eyes met once again. An awkward laugh left your throat, an embarrassed expression on your face as you looked off to the side. “Ah, well, I do…! It’s just, uhm… you trail off, mind racing for an explanation.

Frederick watched with underlying amusement, curious as to why you were so hesitant to eat the shelled seafood. He knew you had to enjoy this dish since all of the guests here seem to have their own special accommodations, so why have something you didn’t like?

However, the composer felt like he already had the answer. The shrimp was cooked in its original state, the shell still protecting its delicious meat. Plus, with the way you toyed with your food, glancing at him with worry then down at your plate… He’ll give a helping hand; why not?

He found you exceptionally talented with your occupation, feeling a gravitational pull to you—so he wasn’t as stuck up or off-put with you. You weren’t mediocre to him… Bonus points if you’re a fellow musician. So he slowly slipped off his white gloves, setting them neatly onto the table.

“You know… If you need help, I wouldn’t mind unpeeling the shrimp for you,” Frederick offered, breaking you out of your internal panic. He raised a brow, his head turning slightly to the side, his eyes staying on yours. “If that is the issue here.”

You could feel your face burn up, blinking away. You weren’t sure why you were so flustered by the offer, mixed in with a little bit of embarrassment. He was offering to help you, and you were very hungry…

“Ah, that would be wonderful…! Thank you!” You beamed, slowly sliding your plate towards him. You nervously licked your lips, another awkward laugh leaving you. “I—I would definitely do it myself, but I am not the best at it… And…” You trail off, feeling a tingling sensation on your face. “I dislike eating shrimp in front of other people.”

Frederick gently pushed his own bowl to the side, taking your plate in front of him. A small, amused smile painted his face at your confession, a slight hum following after. “Oh? That’s certainly an interesting trait,” he commented as he stabbed the fork through the neck part.

“Take no offence, though; I mean it as a way to say I’m a little intrigued by it, Ms. L/N,” Frederick added, his focus on the shrimp. “You can watch as I do this as well, and next time, you can flourish after learning how to do so.” He added, flashing another smile at you.

Your eyes stayed on his hands as he worked on the shrimp shell, using the fork and butter knife with skill. However, your focus was more on his hands… Oh, you should probably reply.

“Oh, goodness, none taken,” you said, a returning smile on your face. “I know it’s a little strange… But again, thank you so much…!” You thanked him again in an appreciative tone.

“It is my pleasure…” he responded, his eyes flickering to yours once again before drifting down to the plate, working on tearing the shell; he was even deveining it for you! Frederick seemed to be working up the courage to add something, a pause between you two.

“I… used to eat quite a lot of shrimp at my father’s formal dinners, so this does bring me back. Maybe after I… find something, I can return again.”

You were a little taken aback as Frederick opened up to you just a little. “Really? Ah, I’m so sorry for whatever reason why you can’t join them now… And I wish you the best in finding whatever you’re looking for…!” You quickly reply, giving him a reassuring smile.

If only you knew. And maybe you will, one day. But for now, he will have to put you in the back of his mind, his goal of restoring his existence in the Kreiburg family first.

And maybe he can come back to you after he knows a little more about you in return. If you both made it out of here.

“I appreciate your encouragement, Ms. L/n… Now, let us eat before the others get here,” Frederick said as he slid the plate of shrimp back to you. “If we ever find ourselves in this situation again, I wouldn’t mind peeling your shrimp for you once more.”

Your felt your chest squeeze a little, finding yourself oddly warmed by his offer. Fighting back the urge to kick your legs a little under the table and gush about how delicious the shrimp looked, you gave him another genuine appreciative smile. “I would appreciate that, Mr. Kreiburg… Again, thank you so much…!”

“Please, do call me just Frederick,” the composer asked of you as he slipped his gloves back on, gently pulling the bowl of soup back in front of him. “And again, you are very welcome… Y/N.”

Your lips parted to speak again, but maybe it was best to leave it off like this. You nodded your head and turned to your plate, a sweet smile on your face. And with that, you enjoyed the delicious plate of shrimp with delight.

The silence between you two wasn’t awkward, it was rather comfortable. Not only that, but Frederick respected your boundary, not once looking at you as you ate.

You definitely appreciated that. Now, you hoped to be close to him… And eat shrimp with him sometime.

This was probably the most you've talked to another survivor here.

Oh, and if you were wondering who the other dishes belonged to, that would be the psychologist, Ada Mesmer, with her sweet crystal candy, and José Baden, the first officer, with his refreshing cup of orange juice.

#idv #identity v #idv x you #idv x reader #frederick kreiburg #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv frederick #idv composer #composer idv #ento writes #idv fanfic

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sea-of-dust · 1 year ago

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Alva,Frederick,Edgar,Demi x Rock Vo. GN! Reader

Compared to the way you dress they would have never guessed you knew your way around a ballroom

N: I'm gonna keep thinking of acheron and black swans dances final frame. Also Frederick's new skin, that thing has a grip on me,poppin party,Céline Dion,Mustard service references

Warnings: mentions of drinking, might be ooc

Ugh, you and luca being friends is one thing, him noticing the hunter and saying "ez sweep" is another. Luca would tell you what to do against him you'd do it, he'd get pissed you two would do it everytime you see em. Strangely enough is that you've never seen Alva before and when you asked who the fabled "tall coat guy" luca would answer "litterally a tall coat guy"

As soon as you did see him however you knew why luca didn't want you to ever meet him. His cold gaze, the scar near his eye, the elegance he radiates. "Are you single?" "Excuse me?" Luca would know instantly if you met him when you come back like a children's cartoon protagonist that's just been kissed by their crush. "Wow..." he was mortified.

Luca does get a bit werided out when he thinks too much about you crushing on his teacher, that dosent stop him from giving you heads up tho. "There's a public map" you stop tuning your neck nearly snapping to see him "where? Can I perform? Is the tall coat guy gonna be there?" "Dunno" "I'll take it" So the most delulu person on earth (you/j) decided to perform under the deck of the ship, not paying much mind as you played songs you thought he'd like, trying not to make direct eye contact with this seemingly uninterested man, too focused on his conversation with the clerk. You thought maybe he had tuned you out after the first few chords, until the next match with him where he hummed. A humming a little too similar to the lyrics you sang. While kiting him you could barely believe your ears, you had to have Demi fact check you.

A few more performances and a chair was all it took for him to begin to speak to you. "That voice of yours is wonderful" your eyes widen, looking up at him quickly, he smirks, reminiscing on the concert. "I'm normally not the type to like rock. I'm glad you're an acception" you froze, you could have sworn he could hear you internally scream or atleast see you blush as much as you did

He isn't very social but you've gotten the treat of seeing him smile, and not terror shock you as much. "You've gotten soft" "have I now?" In truth you went from being able to kite at least 3 ciphers to 2.5, he doesn't terror shock you but he makes up for it in actual shocks. Atleast he's friendly enough to show you where the dungeon is before poking you with the staff. There would also be the occasional soft look in his eyes eventually making a bit more physical contact with you. "You're so pretty" you re-wrap his bandages causally mummbling that out, he retracted his hand quickly. "Did I tie something too tight?" "No" you hold out your hand for his arm. "Do you really think im pretty" your eyes widen "I didn't think you heard me but yea, the way your eyes pierce into people is attractive" you blush embrassed you're rambling this much "atleast in my opinion" he looks away before placing his arm into your hand to continue wrapping, you continue on nervously wrapping them. He'd look at them later on in the match, thinking about what you said, it's too distracting for him to just not hear "you're pretty" over and over

He'd ask you out pretty awkwardly, because it would be straight to the point. "I love you, please consider me as a partner" "." He'd stand there like a brick and you would be to, out of pure shock your brain would have just exploded by then. "Sure-" brainfart of an answer, biggest regret of your life. Thank god he didn't seem to mind.

He likes comming out of his office just to see you out there practicing, you'd hear his foot steps and greet him with a smirk. "You've been in there for 15 hours I can't feel my hands" "I'm sure you're fine" "they feel like white noise" "so you feel them" "no" closing his eyes he'd listen to your careful fingers press on strings and strum, whenever he opened his eyes he always looked love struck so you try to block out his face from your mind, but the more you try to shut it out the more clear it gets. You had to stop looking at him when you practice

He'd notice if you've overused your voice during a match. Coughing, trying to relieve strain, pinching the front of your neck. He'd stop you mid kite and tell you about ways to relieve it. "Hopefully you like tea and honey." "?" "For your throat" "oh" he kisses your forehead. "I'll prepare some after this. Go decode for now" you'd have a higher chance of failing ciphers after that, Luca had to supervise. "He's so pretty..." "decode for him" easiest way to get you to lock in and to shut up about Alva

The only pet peeve he has with you is when you're both in a match and a survivor would say something along the lines of "I don't know how to get around this hunter" and you and luca would respond simultaneously "ez sweep" so he started finding loop holes, such as winking at you during kites, flirting with you if he found you first leaving the cipher bare, and just going after Luca first. He was no longer "ez sweep" to you two anymore, you had to tell a new survivor to "follow their gut!" For a while

He didn't care much for your rumors about being an aristocrat, if anything they're an afterthought, and an explanation on why you're able to causally name plants, and almost never use your hands when eating you'd eat fruits with a fork or a toothpick. This did come into play when you asked him to dance. Surely nothing it could be fine? He barely remembers how to do ballroom dance, so you went easy on him. It felt like a roller coaster. You could be able to tell he was embrassed everytime he almost stepped on your feet, the quick turns he wasn't ready for you'd catch his eyes widen. Somehow able to dip someone as tall as him you catch an exhausted smile on his face. "I should do this more often with you" he scoffs "maybe another time"

Ugh, as a musician he respects you knowing your talents after attending a show you did in the lobby, or just hearing it blast a few times but knowing your background you're gonna have to go the extra mile to even get him to associate with you. A person dressed like some local turning out to be an aristocrat, and their family respects that? Ridiculous you must be lying

He'd warm up to you slowly, he was annoyed he could hear you practice? Take these headphones. Then he couldn't hear the piano? Alright you'll change the time you do practice. He'd hate to admit it but when overwhelmed He'd purposely look for you while practicing, chaotic riffs like the ones you play would usually overwhelm him, but there's a difference when you practice, you're humming the lyrics softly while playing watered downed versions of certain bits, sometimes pleasing soft riffs. It's therapeutic, won't let you catch him listening though

That changes when you begin to date him. Now he's in the same room! "Im gonna pratice one i dont think youd like much" "I'm sure I can enjoy it regardless" you hum uncertainly hesitantly placing your fingers where they need to go, and begin to play, the melodies seeming uncertain of themselves as if shy. "With all the times I made mistakes infront of you I never expected you to be so considerate it hurts your performance" he sits closer to you "I'll be alright, play as you see fit regardless of me being in audience" "alright..." You play a bit hesitantly in the beginning, but pretty quickly you practice as usual, you sigh as you complete it. "That was too difficult" "do you want me to not be here when you practice?" You're not very sure how to answer that

He'd enter your room at night. "I know you're awake" "WOAH" you jolt back squinting your eyes to try and get a better look at him. "Why are you here at this hour?" "I got scared" "Sure bud" you embrace him, letting stiff arms return the favor. In truth he was kept awake by the thoughts of things couples usually do, sleeping in the same bed being one of them, imagining you there just wasn't going to cut it for him, to have you near him, to trust him enough to sleep in the same room as him let alone close to his chest, he felt at ease. You would wake up to his grip firmly around you or from him carassing your cheek or playing with your hair.

It feels werid when you two aren't in manor games together, you're like eatchothers lucky charms, he can't really handle if you're in too many games without him in a row. "I gotta get back soon Frederick might sleep on the piano again" Demi raises an eyebrow "he what?" "what if he stares so hard at my guitar it ends up full of sorrow" Demi's heard it all, she's heard of him evaporating, laying on couches, playing piano then sighing pausing and continuing to play a more loudly and harshly (according to Luca) "he thinks about alota things at once you know"

He does feel a bit strange when it comes to physical affection. Hugs and small kisses did feel a icky, when you do show him physical affection you'd try to keep it to a minimum accolading this, he judges you for that. Playing with his hair and stopping he looks up at you with narrowed eyes "what?" "Keep going" he grumbles. He'd start turning around to judge you if you dared to remove your hands from him. Sometimes even initiating, which would confuse and fluster the heck out of you. He does have his limits don't push them and he'll be fine.

He'd invite you to practice with him sometimes. It would always fluster the hell outta you but barely for him. "Are you sure?" You look around a bit frantically "I'm sure" "I'll get my gutair then" as soon as you sit down with him it usually goes with him beginning to play, you joining in after seeming to get the gist, you realize there was sheet music the entire time for you, say that you're "built diffrent" for just knowing what to play automatically "I'm just built like that" "Uh huh..." he disregards it, he knows you forget about the sheet music most of the time. Atleast he doesn't stay there for hours away from most people, that much anymore, now he spends atleast half of that practice session with you.

So to punish you for almost always never paying attention, he decided to make a song, no surprise he'd already think of making you a song, this was just an excuse for if you ever asked him why. "Do you mind if we practice again today" "you can't get enough of me can you" teasing him, you go with him hearing the unfamiliar song he began to play, you get behind him and begin to read the sheet music. "This one has alot of emotion to it" you continue to listen, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I think I got this" letting go of him, you play along with the emotional tone of the song. Test magically passed

You'd tease him with some song choices, letting him recognize the songs he wrote played on your gutair, or singing a lyric he just can't pass over for some reason "you haven't found everything you've been searching. Find it with me then we'll lose it and find it again" he blushes you could tell he was thinking too much on it. he turned away closing his eyes as you continued on singing, was your voice always this hypnotizing? Why are these chords so flustering now of all times? "Please stick to rock" "this is rock" "oh" you could barely hear that, getting closer to him you whisper in his ear "pleasantries-" "something I say to you, love" "so you know this" he tries to hide his flustered face. "The lyrics are pretty tame I'm surprised a song you've heard for a while now flustered you" you hug him kissing his cheek. You look foward to his reaction whenever you play songs like that near him, or just him paying too much attention to the lyrics and drifting into his imagination

Now imagine him finding out those you being an aristocrat rumors were real. You had him thinking you were normal until you ate a grape with a toothpick and knew how to tie his aggressively fancy bows. As soon as a partner dance came along you quite litterally swept him off his feet. A style of partner dance that was unique full of dramatic turns it almost felt like you were just dragging him along a bit, a weightless, graceful dance that would have been unexpected if you weren't accustomed to it. A dip is where you two make eye contact. "Did I tuker you out too much?" You smile uncertainly,him huffing to catch his breath, his mind racing with thoughts. "I'm fine" "would you like to do for another then?" "I'd rather not"

Ugh, pretty loud and he just hears the mumbles, he'll think it's incoherent metal, disrupts painting when you hear a sudden yell no matter how pretty it is

He dosent dislike you personally, after all you gave him your spare ear muffs when he brought this up to you. He becomes a good ally after that, you could go for a rescue and he'd be able to cover you. Those ear muffs come in handy, so handy that hunters try to take them. Unfortunately, you or him are always the first to yank them off or knock It out the hand of the hunter

He would slowly become apart of you Demi and Lucas crew. That one guy in a group that's never there but when he is it makes that day better, he's that guy. It gets so hype over there the hunter would turn their head wondering about the noise. "we got it guys!!" "YEA" "were getting a 4 escape!!" The hunters oprea singer

He'd grow super attached to you after you say something positive about his art. "Youve made this in a day?" "Yea?" "I find that hard to believe, the layering in this, the way they don't just lay ontop of eatchother but blend, not to mention accurate shadows" you take a pause dazed at the fine work. "It's beautiful" he doesn't speak, shocked that you knew the beauty and worth of his art something that most he met didn't understand, he fell for you hard over those comments, exactly why he shows you his pieces more often

You two would start dating rather quickly, you dropping signs the most aggressive way possible, causally holding hands when alone, sharing a cipher and really bad ideas "we should rescue luca" "no" "?" "He told me I should cut my canvas in half so I had four drawings instead of two" "...I mean in concept it's good but it might set ya off" "it already did" "after half then?" "Yea" thankfully Demi swooped in

You do try to sit down and paint with him. It was like a toddler following along a Bob Ross tutorial, but atleast Bob didn't stare at your painting for long periods of time. "Are you familiar with aristocrats?" "Yea?" He narrows his eyes "are you one?" "Are my drawings that bad?" "No these strokes are just ones nobility usually do" "crazy" he knew you were an aristocrat, and one that appreciated his art is even better. "Consider me your biggest fan in the art world" he giggles going back to his piece

He's run out of paintings during a match? Suddenly this isn't a match it's a rock show. "Find something in the item boxes nearby I'll distract them for you" distract them the loudest way possible how did you even bring an amp to a match?! "Why do you keep playing poppin party songs" "1) they're loud enough to cover the sound of us moving 2) they're more focused on me, the source of the music and 3) if you actually noticed" you point at Joseph "I found out he in particular has a real liking for Arisa he's not just gonna ignore her out of all people" Sure enough a familiar photographer appeared in the distance. "You mind opening the exit gate"

Despite him being sarcastic as hell he tries to sing along when you practice or perform. "You look like someone just sucked the life outta you" "how do you do this on the regular?" "Vocal practice wait till you have to scream in matches to save people" "." This stuff isn't for him but listening to you do it sounds alot better, and its nice to hum. You've caught him humming more times than you can count, and whenever you tell him he gets embrassed. "It's cute tho" "I'm sure the hunter could catch us if I continued" "They're across the map"

He hates the way you kiss whenever you're rushing somewhere. You do this thing he calls the entertainer's peck. Where you'd wave or acknowledge him, kiss his cheek and continue walking. He hates it because of how it lingers, you can't just take his hand to turn him toward you only to kiss him on the cheek and leave to a concert area or to decode. You're making him lose focus, one of those kisses that make you want another. You'd have him mummbling like a fool, espically if he could chase after you he'd give you his own peck, which led to the part he hated the most, the soft "I'll cherish this" expression on your face when you look back at him. He's giving you another until you stop looking at him like that!

He knew you were an aristocrat and he was thankful for it there was a higher chance you realized his talents. Hed ask you to dance first. "Shall we dance?" "Sure" informal way of accepting but formal style of dance. The way you both were able to be in sync no matter what move you threw at him, it turned out to be more of a test of skill than a friendly dance, as soon as you dipped him you could see all of the energy he lost hit him at once as he could barely keep himself up, you giggled at his predicament. "We should do this more often, you're alot more used to this than I thought" "we should, maybe I could try tossing you" his face straightens "nevermind"

Party! She's litterally with you all the time, with Luca as a carry on. You three would basically host rock concerts in the manor. You'd sing about freedom and living on, who cares for the noise complaint invest in ear plugs!!

You'd always be with her or luca during the games, though you do prefer Demi a bit more, she dosent laugh so hard it alerts the hunter. She's also more aware than Luca making running away alot easier. Though after games you prefer Luca, Luca doesn't cling to you so much you have to sleep in the same bed as him to make him feel better, he just calls you his hero

Does help when you're rescuing her, Naiad could be dashing toward you yet all be stopped by a simple ear spliting shreak from you, you had her seeing double. "I didn't know you could also do metal" "it's useful with the amount of commissions I get"

She'd randomly get an idea to try and wing along while you play. "I got it I got it" reasuring herself you begin to play familiar chords as she opens her mouth you change them to diffrent ones "I DONT KNOW THE LYRICS TO TEAR DROPS" "you got it!" She indeed barely had it, barely able to say of the lyrics correctly. Her revenge? "You mind playing this" she shows you probably the most confusing sheet music you've seen in your career a Frederick special if you will. "Alright-" and so the manor wondered what happened to the music they randomly heard when passing your room for the next 2 days

She'd fall asleep If you two weren't summoned for a round that day leaving you and her alone to explore the manor or practice guitar. People would come and go to you twos makeshift karoke. Espically Norton apparently. "IT WAS LOST LONG AGO BUT ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" those two would sing with their hearts out the whole manor could tell you the lyrics by heart. You could play a cord to a song she'd accidently "ITS ALL COMMING BACK TO ME" "." "That wasn't the right song?" "No"

Almost scream royality. Random bug? "AHHHHHH" small spoke? "AUHHHHHHH" you and luca pretending to be possessing eatchothers bodies "NOOOOOO" surprisingly she doesn't scream like this when a giant nun lady jumps at her, except when she did and found out why you're scream royality. "So how'd ya get chaired?" "Rescue me first" "you're way too far from half" she pouts "so I tried screaming to burst her ear drums like you do..." "and?" "And she looked me straight in the eyes, then the cat screamed louder I swear it was like one of yours and then I was here" ".pft" "not cool!"

She gets tipsy during rounds, leading to some fun confessions of love. "Y/n...I love youu" she leans onto you, puckered lips to an exaggerated degree. "I gotta decode Demi" sighing you let her cling onto you tighter "did any person tell you how cute you are? Am I the first?" "You aren't" she gasps dramatically "reallllyyyy?" "Yea, a barmaid got to me before you" she blows a raspberry

She leads you away for rounds, asking for help setting up a kiting area. "Thanks for the help" she lands a kiss on your cheek. "Demi" "what?" "I appreciate it but Luca might vomit over this again" "he forced himself to" she wraps her arms around your waist, leaning in to be closer to you "he'll be fine" he wasn't fine. "You two really gotta get a room" "wadya mean?" "You keep looking with these lovey dovey eyes, were all on the same cipher and that poor guys probably single handedly evading that rock guy. "Arent they the same person" "yea they both got that same scar" "now you're tag teaming me?" "Yea" you both make the same look.

If she were ever to escape the hunter injured she'll run to you near instantly. "I think you should kiss me and all my injuries will heal" "that's not how it works Demi" you continue your healing "you're so warm..." "I know" "hehe" you kiss her forehead, finishing up. "I'm still injured" she dramatically places her hand on her forehead, both of you hearing a cipher being popped. "Oh look you're at full health" she sighs "worth a shot"

You being an aristocrat? She didn't care much but it did affect how you did certain things, and explained why you knew how to take care of plants,paint, and piano...barely the gutairs more fitting. When you asked her to dance, she got flustered, such a formal request, but comming from you it should have been a bit obvious it was comming. She didn't expect how graceful you were, it felt like an instructor dancing with their student for a test, the turns focused eyes turning to soft looks whenever you made eye contact with her. It was a flustering the hell outta of her she couldn't think for more than two secounds with you suddenly invading her thoughts with the shift in demeanor. When she took the lead by the end and dipped you, you seemed to snap out of it. "You're really good at improv" "how sweet of you" she huffs bringing you up to stand. "Would you like to dance again later?" "You sound like an old noble"

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