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eliasmelody · 3 months ago

Note

Hello! If that's not too much to ask, may I request drabbles/hcs/short oneshots about how Luchino (survivor) and Victor (separately) would react and then act upon learning that reader's former friend arrived into the Manor (maybe even which exact words would they say when (or if) they confront the person)? Former, because they actually traumatized reader with their constant manipulations, insults and emotional rollercoasters. Reader may have vaguely told Victor and Luchino about their story with their ex friend before their arrival, but when reader saw their bully in the Manor as a new survivor, they quickly went back into their room and broke down crying, and ended up telling everything in details when their concerned partner came to comfort them. If that's something you are not comfortable writing, you may change that to that their former friend betrayed the reader or screwed them over in some other ways ^^'

No Rest for the Wicked

Tag: Luchino (sur) x reader, Victor x reader, Ann x reader (platonic), Gender Neutral Reader Warning: Trauma, Bullying, Angst & Healing, Karma, grammar & spelling

✦.───────── ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ───────── .✦

Professor - Luchino Diruse

Luchino has always been patient with you.

When you first told him vaguely about your ex-friend and what they had done to you, he hadn’t pried. If you wanted to share, you would. If you didn’t, he would respect that.

But then they arrived at the Manor. And even after all this time, they still knew exactly where to strike. Exactly how to twist the knife.

"Still the same, aren’t you?"

Just a few words. That was all it ever took.

Even in the safety of your room, you could still hear them. Could still feel them crawling beneath your skin.

Luchino had found you like that.

Kneeling. Trembling. Your breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. And for the first time, you told him everything. Not just vague mentions. Not just hints. But everything.

Luchino listened in silence, his hands resting over his knees as he knelt before you. His fingers twitched,not in impatience, but in restraint.

You could see it in his expression. In the way his usually relaxed gaze had darkened into something unreadable.

Something dangerous.

"They are here?" His voice was calm. Too calm.

Of course, he hadn’t known. He was always buried in his research, lost in his work, dissecting knowledge piece by piece. He had no time for Manor gossip, no interest in the constant arrivals and departures.

You nodded. "I-I can’t be near them, Luchino. I can’t. They." Your breath hitched. "They act like they didn’t do anything. Like it’s all in my head."

Luchino exhaled slowly.

Then, just as carefully, he reached for you.

His hands were large,calloused from years of experimentation and survival. But when they touched your arms, they were nothing but steady, grounding.

"…They will never touch you again." He murmured.

You almost believed him.

──── ♡ ────

You weren’t there the first time Luchino confronted them.

It happened in the library.

Your ex-friend had been chatting with a few of the others, spinning their usual harmless, honeyed words, when Luchino entered the room.

Everything about him was composed, casual.

He didn’t look at them right away. Instead, he perused the bookshelves, claws lightly dragging along the spines of old tomes.

"I hear you are an old acquaintance of… my little one."

Your ex-friend blinked, glanced up and didn't take long before knowing who he prefers to "Oh? Yeah, we used to be close."

Their lips curled into something pleasant, too pleasant. "I don’t know what happened, though. One day they just… cut me off."

Luchino hummed. Pulled a book from the shelf. Flipped through it.

"And you do not know why?"

Your ex-friend scoffed, feigning innocence. "Who knows? People change, I guess."

Luchino closed the book with a soft thud. Then he turned to them.

He was taller than most. Broader. Even in his human form, there was something undeniably inhuman about him, the sharpness of his features, the unnatural grace in his movements, the way his eyes watched people like a predator watches prey.

He took a single step forward. Your ex-friend shifted in their seat. The air suddenly felt heavier.

Luchino tilted his head, voice still impossibly calm. "Do you know what fascinates me about predators?"

Your ex-friend hesitated. "What…?"

Luchino leaned in slightly, just enough that his presence was undeniable. "They do not lie to themselves. They do not pretend to be something they are not. Only humans do that."

His claws lightly grazed their cheek. Not deep enough to bleed, but enough to leave a sharp sting, enough to make them flinch.

The candlelight flickered, casting shadows along his face, accentuating the sharpness of his teeth as his lips curled into something unreadable.

"And I detest liars."

Your ex-friend went rigid. Luchino held their gaze for a long, suffocating moment. Then, just as casually as he had entered, he turned away, book in hand, his steps light and unbothered as he made his way to the door.

Before he left, he paused. Didn’t look back. Didn’t raise his voice. Just spoke.

"Stay away from them."

And then, just as easily as he had arrived, he was gone.

──── ♡ ────

The Manor’s halls were quiet today.

You walked alongside Luchino, steps slow and steady as you shyly told him about your match, still not used to so much of his attention.

Luchino made a sound, something between a hum and a chuckle. His posture relaxed as he listened.

The sound sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Until a figure approached from the opposite direction. Your steps faltered.

Your ex-friend didn’t even glance at you. Not a sneer. Not a smug smirk. Not a single word.

You had expected something,a snide comment, a passive-aggressive remark, something. Turning your head slightly, you watch them disappear down the hall.

"Weird… They didn’t say anything."

Luchino didn’t respond.

You looked up at him, brows furrowing. "Luchino?"

His gaze was locked on the retreating figure, unblinking, unreadable. Pupils had thinned to slits. You caught the way his claws flexed at his sides.

Like a warning.

You swallowed. "You–"

Luchino blinked. His pupils rounded again. He turned his head, looking down at you, his expression shifting back into something easy, something unreadable.

Your heart skipped a beat as Luchino leaned in as you froze. His lips brushed against your temple, soft, lingering.

"You were saying?" He murmured, voice smooth as silk, yet carrying an edge of something unspoken.

You barely registered your own breath hitching. Fingers instinctively lifted, brushing over the spot where he kissed you, warmth spreading from the simple gesture.

Luchino chuckled, low and deep, as his gaze flickered over your flustered expression.

For all his sharp edges and predatory nature… he had never once made you feel like prey

Postman - Victor Grantz

Your ex-friend was good at pretending.

The moment they arrived at the Manor, they played the victim, painting themselves as someone who had grown, someone who had changed. They were charming, polite, and spun their words like silk, so smooth that even the other survivors didn’t notice the cracks.

But then, you noticed Victor.

Or rather, you noticed them watching him.

It frustrated you.

Victor was a good man, too good for his own sake. He never entertained them, never smiled, never encouraged their words, but he never shut them down either. He didn’t push them away the way you wanted.

──── ♡ ────

Dinner is like usual, the survivors chatting amongst themselves, the usual low hum of conversation filling the grand dining hall. You sat beside Victor, sharing a plate of bread, his fingers lightly brushing against yours whenever he passed you a piece.

"I was so worried about being here at first." The sound of them startled you as they said. "But then I saw you, Victor."

You stiffened.

Victor, who had been quietly eating his meal, blinked in surprise.

Your ex-friend smiled, sweet and sharp. "You’re just so… safe. So warm. So trustworthy."

Something inside you twisted.

They were doing it again. Wrapping their words in silk and sympathy, playing innocent while sharpening their knife.

"I can’t imagine how hard it must be." They continued, sighing softly. "Being surrounded by people who don’t appreciate you. Who take advantage of your kindness. Who pretend to be something they’re not."

And then, with a perfectly timed glance in your direction,

"Some people just don’t deserve the chances they’re given."

The words hit like a slap, even though they weren’t directed at you outright. But they didn’t need to be. The message was clear.

Even Victor takes the hint and sets his fork down.

Your ex-friend smiled, sensing victory. "I just worry, you know? That you’re wasting your time on people who don’t actually care about you. I mean, you’re such a good person, Victor. You should be careful. Some people only–"

And then, for the first time, he turned his full attention to them.

"Enough."

His voice was soft. Barely more than a whisper. But the sheer weight behind it made the air in the room shift.

Your ex-friend blinked. "Pardon?"

He set his fork down, hands folding neatly in his lap. Then, in that soft, steady voice of his, he spoke.

"That’s not true."

The words were simple. Quiet.

But the way the room stilled made it feel like he had shouted. "Did Victor just talk?" Someone whispered. "Well this is interesting." Another one.

Your ex-friend blinked, clearly caught off guard.

Victor’s gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t fidget like he usually did, didn’t shrink back under their attention.

"They’ve never used me."

He continued, softer now, but no less firm. "Even when they need help, they try to handle things alone. They think of everyone else first, even when no one notices. Even when no one thanks them."

His fingers lightly traced the edge of his plate as he continued, voice growing softer, but no less certain.

Your ex-friend scoffed. "Okay, but that doesn’t–"

"They help Wick put on his scarf when it’s too cold." Victor cut in, voice a little firmer now. "They make tea for Emily when she forgets to take a break. They listen when Luca talks about his inventions, even when they don’t understand a word of it."

"They always know when someone’s feeling down. They–" He hesitated, swallowing, then pushed forward with a blush. "--they even leave little notes for me when I’m nervous about a match."

The table was silent.

Even Naib, who never seemed fazed by anything, had stopped eating mid-bite.

Victor, realizing that every single person in the room was now staring at him, suddenly went very red. He quickly looked down at his lap, ears burning.

A tense pause.

Then, from across the table, Kevin cleared his throat. "Darn, Victor." He muttered, smirking. "Didn’t think you had it in ya."

A quiet snicker from Norton. A muffled awww from Emma.

Victor groaned, burying his face in his hands.

You, meanwhile, were staring at him, warmth blooming in your chest.

Your ex-friend opened their mouth, expression twisting into something venomous, ready to spit something cruel–

But someone cut in first.

"Well, that’s suspicious."

It was Edgar, barely looking up from his plate, delicately slicing into his meal as if the whole conversation bored him. "You talk so much about them, but I’ve never actually heard them do anything wrong."

"Mm. Never directly say what someone did wrong, just hint at things." Melly added, stirring her tea thoughtfully. "It’s a very particular way of speaking, don't you think?"

The dining hall had gone eerily still.

Your ex-friend gritted their teeth, feeling exposed under so many eyes, let out a huff, and stood up abruptly, storming out of the room without another word.

The tension in the dining hall eased, conversation slowly returning

Lily leaned in, grinning. "So… when’s the wedding?"

Victor choked on his drink, face turning red as he coughed. You chuckled, patting his back as he hurriedly buried his face into your shoulder, too flustered to respond.

Disciple - Ann (platonic)

The letter had no name, no explanation, just a demand:

"Meet me at the chapel."

You knew who had written it. You should have ignored it. But the endless whispers, the lurking glances, the suffocating weight of their presence in the Manor had been gnawing at you since they arrived. They never let you rest. Every time you turned a corner, there they were, waiting, watching, always with that smug look, knowing just how to slip a few well-placed words into your ears, words that would twist in your mind for days, keeping you awake at night.

They hadn’t changed. They never would.

Your hands were shaking as you pushed open the chapel door.

Inside, candlelight flickered against the stone walls, casting long, dancing shadows. It was quiet, almost peaceful, until you saw them standing near the altar, their arms folded, watching you as if you were the one who had done something wrong.

"Finally." They sighed, tilting their head, eyes glinting in the dim light. "You've been avoiding me. That’s not very nice."

You clenched your fists. "What do you want?"

They took a step forward, slow and deliberate, as if you weren’t already one breath away from running. "I just wanted to talk." They said, pressing their hands together like they were about to pray. "I already forgave you, you know. I even prayed for you."

A laugh bubbled up in your throat, sharp and bitter. "Forgave you? After everything you had done? The manipulation, the insults, the cruel games that made I question my own reality?"

They were the one who did this to you.

"You don’t get to say that." You whispered, voice shaking.

Their smirk twisted into something colder. "You always overreact." They said, stepping closer.

You took a step back.

Then they suddenly lunged.

Pain exploded across your cheek as their fist connected, sending you stumbling into the nearest pew. You barely had time to process it before they grabbed your collar and wrenched you forward, fingers curling around your throat.

"You never listen." They snarled, pinning you against the stone wall. "Say you’re sorry. Say you regret it. Say you miss me."

Your lungs burned. Your vision blurred.

Then,

A low, guttural growl filled the chapel.

It was deep, rumbling, something primal that slithered through the air like a warning. The candle flames flickered violently. The air turned heavy, thick with something you couldn’t name.

Your ex-friend’s grip faltered. Their eyes darted over their shoulder.

A shadow stretched along the floor, long and twisting, pooling beneath the pews, creeping toward them.

Then, a figure stepped into the candlelight.

Tall. Unmoving. A black cat curled at her feet, its golden eyes glowing like embers in the dark. The woman’s face was partially obscured by her veil, but even without seeing her fully, you could feel it, the weight of her judgment.

"You dare speak of forgiveness here?" Her voice was soft, yet unyielding, carrying a quiet, bone-deep fury. "In this holy place, when your heart holds no regret?"

Your ex-friend stiffened, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. "I- I don’t know what you mean, "

"Then why are you trembling?"

The shadows moved.

Something shifted beneath the darkness, something alive.

Your ex-friend barely had time to scream before the blackness latched onto their limbs. Their body jerked violently as unseen hands dragged them back, fingers clawing against the stone floor. Their shrieks echoed through the chapel, raw, desperate. "Wait, Please! No ahhh-"

You tried to turn, to see what was happening,

A hand covered your eyes.

"Don't." The voice was quiet, steady. "You don’t need to see this."

Your whole body shook, breaths ragged and uneven. The fingers over your eyes lingered a moment before lowering. The black cat at the woman’s feet brushed against your leg, purring, as if offering comfort.

Your throat ached. "Why…?"

But she only extended a hand, not forceful, not demanding, but offering.

"Let’s get you back."

Your knees buckled. Your vision swam.

The last thing you felt before the world faded was the warmth of a steady arm catching you, and the faintest whisper, laced with something almost… gentle.

"Poor child."

And then, nothing.

✦.───────── ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ───────── .✦ Picture: from Identity V official (not me) ✦.───────── ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ───────── .✦

Damn! Who cook this ideas and let it simmer?!

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