#idv server

[chibigaia-art]

sweet dreams in the post-apocalypse

[akuma-tenshi]

i made this last night but my computer was having issues so bad that i had to turn it off immediately after or risk permanently damaging it. so here it is after i wake up instead. i sadly wasn't here for this event since i was taking a break from the game during it, and i'm kinda sad about that because it honestly seems really interesting. it probably has one of my favourite aesthetics of any anniv event tbh

song is freaks of nature by stardustlegend and arcarine w/ lucy

[stellari-s]

🥀

request; they are stories that were written for some friends in the ithaqua discord server! namely @ithaquakisser among others, hehe.

wc; 2089 (1087 + 1002).

tags; gn! reader, morningstar! ithaqua, dark romance, morningstar calls you a “marionette”, unhealthy relationship, mentions of the returned! tracy, blood and injury (on reader).

summary; you two have fallen too far. but at least, together you fall. this realization hits you as morningstar dances with you and gives you bloody kisses...

i. a bird in a cage

have you ever thought about the prospect of pricking your finger on a thorn of a deep, deep red rose, only for poison to spread across your body? have you felt that raw pain, simultaneously sharp and dull, so deep that it cuts your soul? it’s such a pitiful, beautiful prospect - so much so it sends euphoric shivers through your spine.

“i love you, morningstar.” a prim yet faux smile pulls on your lips as you grip the glass vase in your hand. through its fragile surface one can see the thorn-lathered roses: a blatant symbol of love. “more than you know - and more than i know, too. i love you from the bottom of my heart. will you take these flowers?”

morningstar is looking up at the sky: a navy blanket with flickering silver specks and the moon smiling wickedly as a crescent. it’s not unlike the smile the man wore now. while you can’t see his eyes through that ominous black mask, you know they are striking gold, like the sun.

he doesn’t accept your flowers, instead grabbing your wrist and pulling you in. his claws are like the thorns of roses in and of themselves, pricking into your (s/c) skin and drawing a little bit of blood. he then pulls you in, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“oh, my sweet little marionette, i must say you’ve gotten better at choosing your words. will you appease the masses with those lips of yours now?” he places an index finger on your lips for a fleeting moment before he steps back, arms releasing their oppressing hold from your waist. naturally, you step away, keeping one of your hands intertwined with his.

you start dancing with him, albeit against your will. you can only go with the other’s whims.

over time, you have come to realize that this man before you, while he looks almost like a god with that silver braided hair of his, that black mask that complemented his black attire and red cape, his character is twisted: apathetic to everything but that which he loathes, even words that were coated in sweet honey is laced with an icy undertone of indifference.

you find that fascinating about him, just as much as you find it frustrating.

“how do you know if my words are empty or not?”

he lets out a hum in thought, but as he lifts your arm to twirl you around, he chuckles. though it gives you mixed feelings to admit it, his voice makes your heart beat faster like being spiked with an electric shock.

“because you and i are not so different,” he finally replies following several moments of silence that feels as thick as molasses. “look at you now, being able to manipulate words like the back of your hand.” his voice is mocking - lathered with a sweet poison that you still have not grown immune to.

he spins you around once again, and when he steps to the right, you take a step to the left.

you two are always on opposite sides. it’s almost like you are always staring at a reflection of yourself: a version of what you could have ended up.

“you’ve fallen too far, like myself.”

“yet, we are different,” you reply, “unlike me, you are not ashamed of it at all, and that irritates me.” when he pulls you in again, you take this opportunity to reach for the dagger sheathe on his belt with your free hand. your movements are swift, having been trained by miss reznik before. everything happens in one motion: the unsheathing of the silver blade that ominously gleams in the night, followed by the sharp blade pressed dangerously close to the other’s throat. “so much that it makes me want to see your blood spill the floor.”

despite a knife being pressed to his throat this very moment, morningstar’s smile never fades. in fact, it seems to widen, as if this whole ordeal and being on the brink of death amuses him.

or perhaps he is just overconfident; dare you say that sounds like him as well.

“unlike you,” you continue, “i don’t drag out what doesn’t need to be dragged out.”

“yet your hand is trembling.” morningstar’s fingertips graze your hand. when you follow the slow, almost lethargic motion with your eyes, you see that like he had said, your hand is trembling.

it isn’t very noticeable, but given you two’s proximity, it’s probably more obvious.

“i…”

morningstar leans in, whispering in your ear. “let this ‘venerable one’ teach you what it’s really like to have the resolve to kill someone.”

in the blink of an eye, in a hauntingly quick yet graceful motion, he snatches his large halberd, adorned with a single lantern that emits a faint flickering glow like the stars above, and swings at you. he aims away from your heart - you aren’t sure if that’s on purpose or not, but you don’t want to think about it either with the imminent danger before you - but he still slashes from your shoulder down to the center of your chest.

the pain doesn’t even hit you immediately, as you are still recovering from shock.

that is just how quick morningstar is.

you try to hold back a whimper as your shock slowly subsides, replaced by the pain of the wound inflicted by the “god”-like human before you, but you can’t stop it from escaping your lips. eventually, your knees buckle, and you fall to your knees, probably scraping them on the hard stone floor. when you look down at your own clothes, you see the dark stains soaking your clothes.

with a lighthearted laugh, morningstar leans down so he’s at the same eye level as you. “you’ve fallen too low to come back up to the light, yet you still have such a long way to go. do you see now just how pitiful you are?” he cups his hands on your cheeks as though he cares for you, his smile turning deceptively gentle. “all you can do right now is stay by my side like a marionette.”

those words sink in your chest, making it difficult to breathe. he reaches into his pocket to pull out a ring. the jewel adorning it is a bright red, akin to roses bathing in the sunlight.

a beautiful cage for a bird whose wings can no longer fly.

with a soft sigh, you lift your right hand, letting it fall limp as morningstar slides it on your ring finger.

ii. bloody kisses

through the silent night is the sound of hacking.

at first, you aren’t completely sure who it is that’s coughing so unceremoniously, desperately clinging onto whatever little life they have left. eventually, though, you come to a realization: a terrifying one, yet one that simultaneously calms the stormy waves raging within the vestiges of your unsettled heart.

that voice belongs to you. you know because the salty tang of blood starts to force its way up past your throat.

“you look so vile right now that it’s beautiful, my dear marionette.”

pain spreads all over your body, fluctuating between dull throbs and sharp pangs that nearly bring you to the verge of tears as you move around. you can’t speak, not in your current condition, but hearing a voice and feeling a presence next to you provides a much-needed distraction.

even if said voice and presence is someone you loathe in your heart.

though all words are stuck in your throat by the clogged blood threatening to spill from your lips, and your breathing becomes even more ragged by the moment, your eyes meet with those golden ones, reminiscent of the sun - morningstar.

you try glaring at him, but he only smiles back, his eyes narrowing.

“surrounded by roses” - the smell reminds you of a sickeningly sweet perfume - “and beneath the night of the full moon” - he tilts his head, his lips stretching into a smirk that isn’t necessarily mocking you, but still drips with his narcissistic nature - “how long i’ve dreamed of this day.”

for a moment, you hold his stare, but then you close your eyes.

if i stare at him any longer, i’ll have to deal with both blood and bile.

you don’t like how he calls you “marionette” - a doll meant to be controlled - but at the same time you can’t help but feel drawn to the way he talks. it’s almost endearing in a way, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he actually cares for you from his heart.

but this is morningstar: he has already fallen too low, even while sitting upon a gilded throne on top of a “glorious” tower. you honestly don’t think he’s capable of such feelings anymore.

as you try to cough out some more blood that’s clogging in your throat, you hear him chuckle as he sits before you on his knees so you are at the same eye level. he plucks a nearby rose by its stem and plucks its petals, one by one. “i was waiting for the day you’d rebel against me, so i could see you like this.”

he stops plucking in the middle, instead putting the rose in the locks of your hair. those pale, slender fingers of his brushes along your cheek as they do, grazing it with a small cut with how sharp his claws are.

you open your mouth: while you can’t speak out loud, you can at least mouth some words in response.

to your surprise, though, morningstar places an index finger gently over your lips. he leans down so you can feel some strands of his braided platinum hair tickle your cheeks and coos, “shh, marionettes shouldn’t speak out.”

your eyes widen as he leans down even more, his lips nearing yours. your lips waver as your body remains petrified before his god-like presence.

like a drum, your heart beats faster and faster, filling your ears to the point it drowns out all other sounds.

time slows down, nearly stopping completely in place. going through the flow of time feels like walking through molasses. it slows more and more... until his lips brush on yours.

at first, it’s light kisses that don’t go beyond feather-like pecks that you can barely feel. it’s like he’s teasing you, hoping to make you beg for more.

perhaps he wants to see me cry too.

much to your chagrin, though, it seems crying is a natural reaction to him kissing you. you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re disgusted or overwhelmed with some other emotion you can’t really name.

“as i thought, tears suit you the most.” his fingers cup your cheeks before your lips meet once again.

unlike the first time, this kiss is deeper - it feels as though he is drowning you in a sick sense of euphoria that you can’t help but want more of.

it’s a feeling akin to being spiked with a drug that blurs your thoughts with pleasure, destroying and burying any rationality six feet under.

you can’t think - only overwhelming feelings drown your senses, numbing them and overflowing them at the same time.

it makes your body tremble, and you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to contain your feelings that you can’t put into words until he lets go.

you open your eyes, and though your vision is blurred by tears, you can still make out morningstar’s figure: his hair that resembles the moonlight, that black attire with a dark red cape, his striking golden eyes and... slightly blood-stained lips.

for a moment you can’t think of anything - your mind is empty after having been kissed so deeply like that, by morningstar no less. You can only stare at him blankly with your mind in a euphoric daze, not bothering to blink out the tears stuck in your eyes.

his hands withdraw from your cheek, moving to his own lips as he smiles, licking the blood staining his lips from having kissed you.

“you are most beautiful like this.”

his words bring you out of your daze, and with shaking hands and sweat tracing the side of your face, you reach for your ring finger, where a sickeningly familiar crimson ring is bound snugly around.

a breath later, you pull it out and throw it to the ground, watching as all the crimson colors blur together to a puddle of sins.

morningstar seems nothing less than amused, though, for he knows the truth.

at this point, you’ve both fallen too far.

[nie-velorio]

Idv fans dont over sexualize a male character before they even come out challenge. GO!!! Oh no! Idv fandom! Oh no wait that's the wrong way!!

But seriously its getting really fucking disgusting and annoying atp im wondering if yall are ACTUAL FUCKING FUJOSHIS and thats fucking gross please go touch grass

Listen I'm not saying idv fans are weird like that but I am saying that its weird how out of all the male characters to come out in the past yr or two, the only one to not get over sexualized immediately upon announcment was the one with the larger body type

[jils-things]

oh my goodness

i think ill cry happy /gen

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

not really decided on what i want to do with minecraft-the-game's existence a la luke's world but by far the Funniest option (to me) would be if it existed but in like. a knockoff format. like as craftmine yknow. extremely similar to minecraft but different Enough that luke never draws the connection. like yeah sure this seems familiar but craftmine was known for everything being a rectangular prism not a cube . it didntve 'servers' it had 'spaces' . etc etc

[ferret-does-stuff]

Why Edgar Valden is Like That (AKA a FREAK): a weird theory post by me

In this post I will go into how Edgar Valden's behaviour in the games and as a character may not be totally influenced by his upbringing but rather by his exposure to lead paints. Please bear with me I have Too Many Thoughts

Throughout history, one word to follow and describe all major artists is "eccentric". Many artists in history have struggled with depression and other psychological problems. But what does that mean? Are artists just mentally ill by default? Well, no, obviously not. Throughout history artists have used vibrant paints that often contain lead and other poisonous chemicals like arsenic and one key symptom of lead poisoning, especially in children, is brain damage. Lead poisoning can lead to behavioural changes, depression and psychosis after long periods of exposure. This is one of the reasons why historical artists are so eccentric, they used brain damage inducing paints.

Keep in mind that IDV takes place in the 1800s, during that time lead and arsenic were EVERYWHERE, but just in paintings. Edgar was constantly breathing in toxic chemicals. I actually think this is why his sister died, young people are especially susceptible to lead poisoning so it's likely that her exposure to the houses's wallpaper/painted walls plus Edgar's paintings caused her to get sick and die (it's possible this also killed his mother but I think she had tuberculosis). It can also lead to behavioural changes for children who survive it, and since Edgar's been painting since he was very young and lived to 21 we definitely know he survived. I think that his more "eccentric" and strange behaviours were caused by brain damage from the lead rather than just being raised rich.

Now I wanted to discuss the main part of my theory of why Edgar killed Sarai. Here are a few of the deductions that I think relate to this

So first: a portrait Edgar painted is distorted. This is incredibly likely to be just because he isn't very good at portraits but it's also possible that his perception of realitly has been changed by the lead poisoning.

Secondly, and more importantly, Edgar has been experiencing hallucinations, he's hearing his paintings scream. It's clear he doesn't have the best mental health, and the lead paint definitely played a part in that.

When Edgar discovered Sarai had been using him, anyone would be upset, but few would kill just because they had been used. It would have been easier for Edgar to have Sarai fired than to kill him.

I believe Edgar was suffering auditory (and potentially visual) hallucinations as a result of psychosis caused by lead poisoning and the additional stress from being used lead to him having a breakdown and killing Sarai. Obviously there are other factors to his strange behaviour (like growing up sheltered and the trauma experiencing losses of loved ones and potentially discovering their bodies) but lead poisoning is such an obvious one that's overlooked so frequently.

TLDR: Edgar is tripping on lead which lead to him being eccentric and killing Sarai

I hope you enjoyed this, have a good day/night I am going to bed.

[coooldair]

JOIN THE IDV ARTISTS TODAY!!!

- Minors and 18+ r allowed

- We accept many kinds of art, such as drawing, writing, cosplaying, etc...

- We usually host DTIYS, Giveaways and Magmas/Whiteboards

- We post IDV news there

- We hate proshipers, homophobics, racists, zionists, etc...

- We have many art chats and vcs

- People there r super welcoming and friendly!!

[ithaeli]

a couple of assorted nortluca hcs:

-norton is very grumpy(?) and always has The Most Dead Eyes known to man. like similar to a resting bitch face but scarier and filled with more angst. luca, on the other hand, comes off as very enthusiastic and emotes a lot with his face (sticking out his tongue when he's working on things, pouting when someone does something he doesnt like, grinning really wide with a lil snaggletooth showing when he's happy etc).

-luca LOVES to make norton flustered by peppering his face with kisses. norton is a little (er, a lot) touchy around his scars, but luca ways reassures him that he loves them and loves him. (besides, he tells him, they're matching with fucked up scars that they did to themselves and what's cooler than that.)

-norton is only ever affectionate with luca, but even then it's in a really touchy-feely way were if he feels uncomfy he will just. bolt. leaving luca to run after him.

-okay now more on luca's side: luca takes care of himself just as well as a distracted inventor can: aka, he doesn't. he doesn't sleep most nights, and sometimes he'll go a whole day without eating or drinking anything because he's just That Focused on whatever he's working on. that's when norton steps in and puts his foot down and forces luca get some sleep, eat something, or take a break. he claims it's just cause it'd put a team at jeopardy is they were in a match with a half-dead decoder, but in reality he just Cares about luca and Refuses to admit it.

-luca's whole thing is electricity and norton's is magnets……dare i say a match made in heaven.

-(this is based off some art i saw on twitter lmao) norton's magnets sometimes get stuck to luca's hugeass collar, or vice versa with luca getting magnetized and drug down by his collar to one of norton's magnets, whether they be in his hand or in his pocket uwu.

-luca keeps trying to talk norton into getting an inhaler because jesus c h r i s t does that man wheeze like he's above to keel over. norton is super touchy about anything related to his accident in the mines, so of course he takes luca's suggestions personally and adamantly refuses everytime luca brings it up (luca is going to drug him and insert an inhaler in his body via surgery one of these days /j)

-once norton does end up letting luca see the extent of his scars and even touch them, he realizes that luca's fingers feel extra nice on them because of the endless electricity that's always thrumming through the prisoner's body. (scar tissue can be treated/helped to regain some feeling via electrical stimulation therapy sometimes!)

-luca loves shocking norton. like touching a singular finger to norton's arm and feeling a slight shock from the charge. norton always tells him to stop, but he's not actually upset when he does it. (maybe he even finds it….cute……)

[williaml0ver]

Never type gg in idv post matches chat ever again 📃 ✍️

[houdinicorbini]

Hallo! Me and my friend have started a new IDV server!

I will say that this is an 18+ server but we don't allow nsfw imagery. This is just more of a safe place and a spot to make friends and people to play with!

Hope you guys think about joining!!

[askmatthias]

What do you think of Antonio? I know he's a Hunter, but he's also kinda puppet-like himself...

"... Admittedly I've heard about him from others - quite social, that one. It feels impossible to escape the varying degrees of kind or worried words others have to say about him.

"I don't know him. I don't know his story. I probably never will.

"... But he seems different from other Hunters, takže, he seems to understand when people don't want to be bothered. Even if the GraveKeeper looks exhausted by him sometimes, they seem happy together...

"A rare thing to see in a place such as this Manor."

( Though he doesn't say so, he's almost jealous... )

"As for him being puppet-like, I believe you mean his behaviour during matches? I have no idea what to think of it."

[akuma-tenshi]

apparently i completely forgot to post this?? which is insane because it's one of my favourite edits i've made

well, it's here now. essence of the year imho

song is honey i'm home by ghost and pals w/ dex

[smittenroses]

ive been wanting to make a server for me and writing mooties + some besties to hang out in but I seriously cannot figure out how servers work

[tsubasagirl]

Thank you DeNa. (part 2)

[mail-posting]

Ok remember that music glitch? I think I've realised the problem! It's tied to the puppets manor event because the webpage it takes you to has that music and I think the game gets confused sometimes and thinks you're. On that page? Or something?