A Little Support
A Little Support
The boys just need a little love to ease the pain <3
Prisoner/Luca Balsa x reader | Prospector/Norton Campbell x reader
⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒
Norton Campbell
Yesterday he had a fight with Naib. A real fight, not their usual argumentative banter. It had almost come to blows too, you heard, until Norton suddenly turned on his heels and locked himself in his room. He’d been there ever since.
You were close enough with Norton to know the two sides of his proverbial flipping-coin. The face he showed yesterday wouldn’t have stayed locked away for long; it was too restless, too confrontational. Which meant the venom of the altercation had flipped him back to the safer, melancholy face you were so familiar with.
So here you were, struggling to carry a bulky, portable record player, a selection of records, and a small handbasket of food to his door. Frankly, managing to balance it all while you knocked was a feat worthy of recognition, but Norton just looked bemused when his face peered out from a cracked opening.
“Can I come in?” you ask, when he looked you over and still didn’t say anything. “I brought some stuff.” You nod down to the record player in your arms. Norton’s expression sours, but he instinctively reaches to take the pile of heavy items from you. You manage to shove just the food basket into his hands and slip into his bedroom.
It’s messier than usual inside, but you expected as much. The few spare articles of clothes he owns are strewn about. Books, paper, and a lone candle are sprayed out from his desk as if he’d swiped it clear in a rage. The space was convenient for the record player, at least.
When you turn around to look him over, Norton has already swiped a bread roll from the basket and shoved most of it in his mouth. His hair is mussed and he’s still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, sans gloves, shoes, and suspenders. The bags under his eyes are worse.
“What’s all this for?” he asks, setting the basket down and rifling through the rest of its contents.
“For us!” You announce.
“Us, huh?” He repeats, in his thinking-voice.
“Yes. I’m going to teach you some dance moves.”
“I already know how to dance,” he says matter-of-factly. You can’t suppress the goofy smile that comes with visions of his rare-but-passionate flailing.
“By yourself,” you corrected. “I’ve never seen you dance with a partner.” Something like embarrassment or shame pushes his eyes away from yours for a flicker. You know he’s never really done anything with a partner, romantic or otherwise. No dinner, no dances, very few hurried trysts. He’d always lacked both the time and the funds, and had few people he ever liked well enough to lock hands with.
Evidently he has the same line of thought, and it makes him a bit gruff as he says, “why would I want to?”
“Because I want to,” you say. “With you, anyway.” He scoffs, but an oh-so faint blush dusts his unscarred cheek. He’s putting on a brave face for this conversation, but you see the turmoil of yesterday’s events lingering just beneath his waning patience. He’s tired, raw, disappointed in himself. And probably thinks you should be too. His attention keeps drifting further away, so carefully, very carefully, you step forward and touch one of his calloused hands. “Just for a little bit? I promise it’s easy.”
Norton meets your eyes again…and lets out a sigh that seems he’s been holding for years. His other hand comes up to your waist, holding you carefully.
“Alright, yeah. Just for a little bit.”
⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒ ⭑ ⭒
Luca Balsa
At three in the morning, Luca had just managed to stumble his way through the manor and crawl his way into your bed.
His pained groans had woken you up from halfway down the hall, so you managed to open the door before he slammed right into it. He then hit your pillow like a rock, holding his head and sobbing that it was splitting open. Five hours of sleepless agony passed like a slug, filled with a long game of medical roulette where nothing ever helped twice. After the fifth hour, Luca finally passed out.
When he awoke again in the evening, his discomfort was gone. But, and perhaps more importantly, he looked lost.
“How are you feeling, Luca?” You ask. He jumps a bit at hearing his own name and stops scanning your bedroom in favor of curiously meeting your eyes.
“Oh! …Well, I think? Though, ah, I’m afraid I don’t quite know where I am,” he explains. Luckily, you’re practiced in hiding the hurt those words always induce. This is not your first experience with either his migraines or his amnesia, and it would surely not be your last.
“That’s alright,” you say. From the drawer in your desk, you produce a little notebook and pass it to him. Ever curious, he wastes no time in cracking it open. “You’re in my room. You had a really bad episode last night and came here instead of the infirmary. You had an accident several years ago that affected your memory. I’ve written about a lot of it in that notebook for you. Or, you keep some of your own that I can take you to. If you prefer.” He had never preferred that, though, always the trusting sort.
He spends several silent minutes flipping through the pages of the notebook, not bothering to hide his shifting expressions of shock, frustration, and intrigue. There’s a great deal of information in those pages, including the accident—or what you’ve heard of it anyway, the manor, his work, experiments you witness, and all the little ideas you hear him muttering to himself that he might forget otherwise.
“You keep this for me?” He finally asks, astonishment in his tone. “These seem impressively thorough.”
“I do, to make things a little easier for you,” you explain.
A grin splits his face and he turns to the notebook again. There’s no possible way he’s managing to take it all in with the speed he flies through it, but then he stops with purpose, marking a line with his finger and holding it with uncharacteristic force. The familiar determination in his eye is his attempt to bring a memory back through sheer willpower. And this time, it seems to work.
“Y…y—” he stutters. “Y/N! That’s it, you’re Y/N.” His shoulders relax as some great weight slides off them. Before you can react, he leaps to his feet and plants a kiss on your cheek that comes with a spark of static that feels like magic. “I love you too!”
“O-oh,” you squeak, still inches from his face and shocked at the speed he’s recovered. “Do you?”
“I do! Look, I wrote it here myself.” He points down to the page in the notebook. There, in your handwriting, is a reminder for him: ‘I love you, and will do anything to see your safe and happy.’ And in the small margins next to it, in his own quick scrawl, is ‘I love you too, never forget!’ You can’t begin to guess when he had added that note, but the glitter of mischief in his eye seems to indicate he knows with great fondness. “And it’s obvious to see why I would. It’s a remarkable gesture for you to keep this for me.”
Luca stands then, stretches, and tucks the notebook under his arm before offering you his gentlemanly hand, “Now! Let’s get some food, yeah? I’m starved. Oh! And let’s grab those other notebooks on the way, I have some catching up to do.”
“Alright,” you say. You feel lighter than you have in a while, reminiscing on how easily he accepts you back into his heart. With luck, he’ll remember everything else in a day or two. If he doesn’t, though, you’re at least not back to square one. “But in case you don’t remember, you don’t like sugar in your tea.”
Luca laughs boisterously, lays another electrifying kiss on your knuckles, and follows your lead out of the room.
More Posts from Yumesanosuke and Others
anhane…… how life chabging
During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you.
this is def an experimental format!! i got this idea while reading the character letters. in the POV of an unknown interviewer (not reader). reader uses they/them.
🔗⚰️📰🔮❤️🩹💉🌪️✂️🍀🩰🔫🪡🤹🧲🦋🐍
Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?
🔗 Ada - "Yes, that's my lover. I would say our relationship falls within the typical scope of that sort of thing. Of course, I believe we share something special, but everyone does when they're in love, don't they?" She covers all her bases in one decisive breath, leaving little room for me to comment.
⚰️ Aesop sits perfectly upright, fingers threaded at his knees. His eyes drift to the side and he seems to begin speaking mid-thought. "I had... cautioned myself not to upset their perception of me," he explains. "But they pried, and stayed, regardless of what they found... For that, I'm grateful."
📰 Alice has kept a sharp eye on me the entire time, but it's at this question that she drops the formalities. "I wasn't aware you would be prying into my personal affairs. Where did you learn that name?" Her frankness pins me in place. For some reason, I end up apologizing.
🔮 Eli can't help a sheepish smile from blooming across his face. "Well, truthfully... I don't use this term lightly, but they might be the love of my life." He has been consistently grounded with his responses, so I'm surprised to catch him flustered, however subtle it is. Personally, I'm touched.
❤️🩹 Emil considers for a moment. He doesn't meet me in the eye, instead pinning his gaze on nowhere in particular. A faint smile ghosts his lips. After a while, he answers, simply, "Safe."
💉 Emily's hands are folded neatly on her lap. At the mention of that name, her shoulders tense, but she otherwise maintains her composure. "Someone I trust." Her answer is vague and cautious, but acceptable. I'll try to uncover a deeper meaning behind that 'trust'.
🌪️ Ithaqua - "Mine." He is curt and to the point. Yours? I echo, hoping he'll elaborate. His head tilts to the side, and while I can't see the face behind his mask, a sense of dread suddenly overcomes me. I decide not to press further.
✂️ Jack stretches out his hand of blades, flexing each finger in front of him. I can't deny the cold sweat that drips down my spine just by being in his presence. "May I respond with a question of my own?" he says to me. "Suppose a butterfly loses its way, and winds up caught in a spider's web. Wouldn't you agree that the more it writhes and struggles, the more exhilarated the spider becomes?" I don't have the courage to hear out the rest of this analogy.
🍀 Lucky - "I've always been known as a pretty lucky guy, but the luckiest day of my life was when I met them! I remember it was the—" He drags me down a long-winded story about their life together. I get the idea. Eventually I'm forced to cut him off.
🩰 Margaretha twirls a curl of hair, a meek blush dusting her cheeks. "Have you ever been in love before? You're never prepared for the magic of it all. I feel a new rush with them everyday. I know, realistically, all good things come to an end, so I tried to remind myself to expect the worst, but they've proven over and over that... I'll never feel safer than in their arms." After rambling for some time, a look of surprise flashes across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that. Oh, but I've just never met someone who feels so much like true love before."
🔫 Martha doesn't miss a beat. "Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name." I look down to double-check the name written in her file. Her watchful gaze follows my line of sight. Are you sure? I try. "Must've been some confusion somewhere," she insists. The next day, I realize all my files on her and (Y/N) have gone missing.
🪡 Matthias - "Wh-What?" he starts, but keeps going before I can repeat the question. "Oh, uh, an ally, I guess." Well, I gathered that much. When I press for more details, his head sinks low, fingers grasping at the armrest. "I don't know what they saw in me. Was it out of pity?"
🤹 Mike's eyes light up and he blinds me with a contagious smile. "(Y/N)'s a sneaky one, and I mean it—they've got me under the trickiest spell of all. Guess what happens every time I think about them?" Egged on by his grin, I take the bait. You get lovesick? I guess. Suddenly, he tosses a handful of butterfly glitter in my face. "I get butterflies!" Very funny, I sigh, exasperated with these carnies. Why did he have that on hand in the first place?
🧲 Norton leans back in his chair, scowling. "What's that got to do with anything?" He snaps a couple times in my face, urging me to "stay on topic." It's hard to say if this question struck a nerve, as he's been uncooperative for most of this interview, but my suspicions point me to prod further. After all, it'd have been much easier if he just said he didn't know them.
🦋 Vera's face contorts into a leery, hostile glower. "Why do you ask that?" Before I can say anything to mitigate the rising tension, she catches herself, and her expression softens slightly. "I'm sorry. That's... someone quite dear to me, so your question took me by surprise."
🐍 Yidhra's follower goes pale, clearly unnerved. "She won't answer that," she tells me through shallow breaths. "Th-This isn't my place to say, but I'd advise you not to involve yourself with that person." As if on cue, I get a sensation I can only describe as a hand slowly wrapping around my neck. It disappears when I move to scratch it. Must've been my imagination.
Bro, Anon I actually was planning to do him next anyways. Andrew is such a soft boy-
I gave you a scenario like I did with Victor, but if you wanted actual HCs I can do that too. This is also SFW because it was not specified.
Salvation
Yandere! Andrew Kreiss (Gravekeeper) Scenario
Summary: All it takes is kindness to corrupt a man. It’s all Andrew needs to taste to get a craving of you.
Possible Trigger Warnings: Yandere themes like a forced relationship, obsession, dark behavior, stalking.
A monster. That’s all he was ever called in his life. That’s why he was around the rotting carcasses of the deceased more than actual people. They never called him a monster.
No one would care if he followed the Letter to the manor. No one would miss him if he never came back. Maybe he could be happier there.
Yet he still was met with people. Other people who followed the letter and came just like him. Then he was forced to follow the rules of the manor and become a mere toy for whoever ruled over it.
Life was always cruel to him, yet he felt he deserved it. His one and only salvation tarnished, he felt the others despised him like everyone else.
Which is why he was surprised that you came up to him, willingly. You had no fear of him, but he was scared of you. What if you also came to mock him.
But, there was no mocking. Only curiosity and kind words. You didn’t care about his illness, him being albino. You talked to him like a normal person would, and he couldn’t help but eat up every word you said.
From that point on, he could only trust one person in this manor. He followed you everywhere like a lost puppy. He never really did anything, however. It was just like he basked in your presence.
You feel like Salvation to him. You’re a good person to care for a monster like him. It feels nice to just be accepted by you.
You are always body blocked by him to protect you in matches. The hunters would hit him as he tries his hardest to help you kite.
You would always feel bad after, coming to help him out with his wounds as he stiffens at your touch. It was like you purified him with every soft and caring gesture.
You gave him the love and care the world couldn’t, was it his fault when he got drunk off it? Was it his fault when he wanted to keep you and drag you down with him?
He fought with himself, you were a luxury who could be tainted by him. He didn’t want to harm you and lose all of the care he gained.
But he obsessed over you to the point where it didn’t matter what the other half of his brain said. He couldn’t let you be stolen away from him now.
His behavior became rotten, other survivors left to the hunters while you and him get out each time. You at first thought it was just a bad day, until it happened all time.
He hovered closer than before, yet still hesitant to touch you. He was snappy towards other Survivors except you.
You needed to confront him, so you offered to speak with him.
The entire conversation felt uneasy, eyes the color of dry blood staring at you as you fumble with your words.
“What is up with you lately?”
You can see him tense for a moment.
“You aren’t even trying to save others anymore, only me! What’s wrong?”
“They’d be better as corpses.”
You stop accusing, and stare back into those sunken eyes.
“…what?”
“Corpses don’t call you a monster. Corpses won’t hurt you or bad mouth your appearance. Corpses don’t steal everything you love away and leave you damp and cold.”
You flinch back when he abruptly stands up, leaning on his shovel as he seethes.
“Everyone could be a corpse for all I care, except you. You were nice enough not to call me names or cast me away.”
“Andrew please-”
“I wouldn’t mind if they all died by the hunters, as long as I can have you as my Salvation.”
You distance yourself. Maybe he was in fact a monster. Maybe you managed to crack open that scared and antisocial shell of his and released something. A monster dark, cold, and damp that dwelled in the darkness.
A monster that wouldn’t mind tarnishing something so pure, as long as he could have it to himself.
Author’s Final Thoughts: This one was really fun to write. It’s my first Tumblr Ask so I’m quite happy. Sometimes he felt out of character, but I think it ended great.
do you think nikolai would be into pet play…
yes.
Imagine each new Matthias merch release Louis gets more and more uncanny
It's 100% just the proportions but HEAVENS HULLABALOO IT SURE MAKES HIM ALL THE MORE TERRIFYING
good afternoon anhane nation 💥
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