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heartshapedbubble · 4 months

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Ello can I request a Norton Fools good x fem reader where she came across the blown up mines and sees Norton (in his hunter form) she’s scared at first but starts to recognise him and slowly starts to approach him reaching her hand up to cub his cheeks ( bro this man needs all the love! )

HOO BOY i agree tho... his release made me regain my interest in norton🫡🫡

[not to be a scum but i'm still open for sanrio emma comms btw😭😭]

fool's gold: imagine...⛏️

cut for length!

paying the bills has become a hellish cycle. break your back to pay off the expenses, relax for the following twenty-ish days, and be sent into frenzy again, not knowing if you're going to have a roof over your head tomorrow or not.

you found yourself hopelessly skimming through newspaper, looking for any job offer possible that would easen up the burden on your wallet. The paper was plastered with offers from bars, post offices and restaurants, but those were a always gamble. will you get your wage or not? and if you will, when? too much effort for something so high-risk.

at last, a small offer in the corner of the page caught your attention. pressed in miniscule letters, it said: MINE RESEARCH. EMPLOYEES URGENTLY NEEDED. EQUIPMENT PROVIDED. underneath the text, an attractive number: $15,000 payed off immediately after the job is done.

not only could this solve the rent for the following 3 months, you'd also have some money left for yourself! you rang the number the second you got home and successfully scored the job, due to the urgency of the situation.

it took you a day or two to start thinking about the job. what do you exactly need to know for mine research? probably at least some physical strength and stamina, you thought. surely it can't be too complex.

you arrived at the mine right on time, the sun slowly slipping back into the horizon to let the moon take center stage. to your dismay, you realized no one else applied for the job. maybe this wasn't a good idea after all? crawling through the narrow, rocky terrain all alone doesn't sound like the ideal scenario. no living being in sight, and 20 minutes have already went by.

still, that money is way too good to pass up. you picked up one of the yellow helmets piled up at the entrance, prayed to whatever god out there that your flashlight has enough power to last the following 2 hours and mindlessly rushed into the collapsing mine.

for the following 10 minutes, your sight unfocused while your mind took the lead, in front of and all around you just rocks and grime, shadows dispelled by the flashlight held by your hip like a lance. only after a good 5 minutes of running did you realize that you, in fact, have no idea what you're supposed to do. what qualifies as mine research? mining, inspecting the ores, measuring the surface?

all sweaty and breathless, the tunnel led you to a large room inside of the mine, the roof extending towards what seemed like a pitch black abyss. carts messily thrown around, bumpy and unpolished geodes laying all over the place, when was the last time a living being stepped foot into this mine? it made sense that such a large sum of money was needed to attract volunteers.

you carefully moved through the rubble, trying to avoid stepping onto pickaxes and shrapnel splayed all over the ground. since you forgot about the gloves your bare hand now held onto the unpromising terrain, the other firmly squeezing the only source of light in this limbo.

the surface grazing your hand now seems like it became... smoother? no longer does it cut and pierce your palms. it's bumpy, but at least you're not risking an infection anymore.

moving inch by inch in fear of falling, the stone below changes its form. you don't even pay attention to the fact that you're now grabbing onto cloth and that, below your palm, a steady pulse is faintly beating.

it's already too late when you realize that you're not alone, and the stone below you starts to take shape and morph until it extends towards the ceiling, now towering over you, slouched like a ragdoll.

complementing the cold shades of grey, a face emerges from the shadows. pale, with defined cheekbones, although malnourished. only his bust passes as human, as below his collarbones there's nothing but a mosaic of pebbles and boulders forming his torso, arms and legs. it - or he, perhaps - is breathing with struggle, coughs interrupting his wheezes here and there.

you feel a sense of dread overcoming you. you freeze on the spot, but he doesn't budge, either. lifeless except for the fact he's breathing and his heart ticks like a machine.

you draw back a step, and he lunges forward, seemingly still not used to this monstrous body of his. he could harm me with ease if he wanted to, a thought suddenly manifests in your mind, and with newfound bravery you inspect the cryptid like a sculpture. your hand grazes over his bumpy and unfinished hands, tugs at the remains of his clothes around his chest. he groans, in annoyance, you assume, but doesn't resist. you climb up a cart to reach his face, your fingers pinch his stubborn hairstrands, inspect the cavity in which his other eye once laid. in a moment of either stupidity or courage you roughly pinch his cheeks - they're cold to the touch, but it's funny how naturally does his intimidating face mush like a little boy's. kind of cute. after a minute of cooing to yourself two of his rocky fingers gently pinch your wrists and put them back to your sides, but his one foggy eye doesn't divert its gaze from yours.

perhaps the flashlight can last an hour more.. you've just began getting to know him, and the mystery of the mine and his origin still lay cold for you to discover.

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ithaquasbbg · 3 months

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Tysm for feeding us with ithaqua content omg🙏🙏 how about kissing with ithaqua hcs..like that's it...how would it feel to give him a smooch...

You’re welcome :33

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Ithaqua | Night Watch kissing headcanons

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Tw: none

Extra: he needs some chapstick. It will not feel good /j

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|🩷| First of all, Ithaqua hasn’t kissed anyone before if it’s not platonic (like forehead kisses whilst he’s taking care of his mother.) he probably wouldn’t be the best kisser in the world the first few times. Once he figures it out, I’m sure he’d be a rather quick learner.

|🩷| Ithaqua, though reserved, wants the other manor residents to know that you’re his. Expect to be kissed in public. Not anything serious (making out in public is… gross). But he will definitely lean in and steal a quick kiss or two whenever he notices anyone’s eyes lingering on you a little too long.

|🩷| He does pull up his mask a tiny bit to do this, allowing the bottom part of his face to be visible. Though he does turn away from others while he kisses you to keep some level of secrecy about his face. Everybody knows he’s kissing you though, rest assured.

|🩷| I’d imagine his lips may be a little chapped from the cold, on top of the fact that there likely wasn’t much in the way of chapstick in his time period. If you introduced it to him, he’d attempt to use it if it makes kissing better. (It does.)

|🩷| He can be incredibly mischievous at times, and this comes out in full force when he’s kissing. One moment you’ll be kissing him normally, the next you feel him nibble on your bottom lip and snickering to himself. He has no ulterior motives, Ithaqua simply wants to see your reaction.

|🩷| All of this is not to say that he cannot be a sincere kisser as well, it’s just more likely to happen in private. You may catch him staring a little too long and the next thing you know he pulls you in for a gentle kiss or two.

|🩷| He’s totally the type to smile while he’s kissing another person. Sometimes it’s a more cocky smirk, such as when he’s aware that he’s gotten a reaction out of you. But sometimes it’s a genuine smile, he does truly love you a lot and does have a tendency to seek out affection from you. Because of this, he’s probably very easy to make happy with kisses.

|🩷| His protectiveness causes him to act much more bold than he is while you’re in public together. In private he’s much more reserved with his kissing and affection, since he doesn’t feel like he needs to prove something. In a way, it’s a glimpse of who he was before his life had gone downhill, the person who he hides under that mask of his.

|🩷| He does quite like receiving kisses from you. Ithaqua enjoys little pecks on the lips or cheeks from time to time like any lover. But little kisses on the tip of the nose, beside the eye or on his temples are ones that do make him melt into you.

|🩷| Ithaqua is a handsy young man. While he’s kissing you, expect to find his hands playing with your hair, rubbing your back, ect. He is quite affectionate and it definitely comes out towards you :33

#idv fandom #idv fanfic #idv headcanons #idv imagines #idv x reader #idv scenarios #idv matchup #idv ithaqua #idv night watch #identity v ithaqua #ithaqua idv #ithaqua x reader #identity v night watch #night watch idv #night watch

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ithaquakisser · 1 year

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if i can do a headcanon request could make ithaqua jealous of another hunter with you being survivor, in a two hunter match

please, if it's not in the way❤

— Jealous Ithaqua in a Duo Match...

Synopsis; Ithaqua finds himself in a pack hunter match with another masked hunter, The Ripper. The two of them agree on a friendly match. However, Ithaqua doesn't seem to appreciate your lack of attention on him.

CW; N/A

WC; ≈520

Note; This was actually on my mind for a bit! Just the other day I spoke with a mutual about Ithaqua trying to seek out the reader's attention, what a coincidence you brought this idea to mind! I also had a situation a bit similar to this in a duos match... Everyone kept crowding around the other hunter so I had to take matters into my own hands, hehe. /j

♡ Ithaqua could never bring himself to say it aloud, but he gets jealous quite easily. If he’s not wearing his mask, you could see how he’d visibly pout or grimace. He does not do well with hiding his jealousy, and often at times his actions already does the talking for him. Ask him, and he’ll never say it himself. “Me? Jealous? What makes you think that?”

♡ It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he does not trust others to behave well with you. Despite the reassurance you’d give him, you cannot seem to tame the green-eyed demon inside of him that’d leave him in disquietude when your eyes are on someone else. His actions are subtle, but speak paragraphs upon paragraphs of words.

♡ When it came to a particular pack hunter match, he found it hard to contain himself. Being paired with another masked hunter, Jack, the two of them agreed on a friendly match for the sake of sparring themselves the trouble. Survivors would crowd the two of them with beaming smiles, yet only yours caught his eyes. Your grin was enough to make his heart jump in place, albeit seeing you pan your attention to the other hunter only shattered his aspirations. He’d hide his discontentment beneath his mask, biting the inside of his cheek.

♡ His mask shielded the moue on his face. Despite all the other survivors that’d crowd him, he still only wanted you to look at him. He made it his goal to gain your attention. Even if it were a mere glimpse of your face. Heart pounding against his chest, he’d use his ability to pull you away from Jack. His face heating up when you’d bump into him with a perplexed expression. Ithaqua would pick you up and carry you away from the hunter and the other survivors, carefully dropping you off at a cipher.

♡ He would not leave you alone, and he’d remain by your side for the rest of the match. He’d follow behind you whilst you tried to finish the remaining ciphers. Occasionally he’d jest, pulling you away from the cipher with his ability. Ithaqua would even use abnormal to reset the cipher’s progress to impede the match’s completion, all just to have some spare time with you. He knew very well what he was doing, even if he was pestering you, he at least still had your attention.

♡ He’d refuse to let you go, carrying you from cipher to cipher. Leaving the survivors tilting their heads in confusion, questioning the relationship between you two. If no one had known of your relationship prior, they’d certainly know subsequent to this match. The moment Jack would waltz close to you, he’d pull you away. The hunter heeded the message with no further questions, simply nodding his head and proceeded to go about with the other survivors.

♡ After the pack hunter match you’d definitely ask him about the events of said match. His face was flushed, he’d simply turn his head away and deny each word you spoke. “Jealous? I was not jealous.” In the end, you’d always find yourself holding his mask in hand, peppering his face with kisses. Teasing him in regards to his jealousy, whispering sweet nothings. "You know I am yours, there's no need to fret."

#identity v #idv ithaqua #ithaqua #idv night watch #ithaqua x reader #idv ithaqua x reader #identity v night watch #identityv ithaqua #identity 5 #idv fanfic #identity v headcanons #idv headcanons #headcanons #gender neutral insert #no beta we die like ithaqua's brother #identityv #identityv ithaqua x reader #identity v x reader

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fishermanshook · 14 days

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LOVING YOU IS ALL I NEED!

( batter , first officer & forward relationship h/c's ) + gn!reader

# think of this as a pt. 2 to this fic , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

How these men show their undying love for their one and only—you.

꒰wc꒱ 1.1k

✦— THE BATTER

Ganji Gupta didn’t dare dream of the day he’d find his one and only, his true love, someone to grow old and tired with until his heart gave out on itself. Unfortunately, his newfound situation halted any progress he could’ve made.

That was until you arrived at the manor with a letter to hell in your hands. That was until he got to know you better. That was until you shared your first kiss on New Year’s Eve. Ever since then, he’s been completely and utterly yours.

Ganji Gupta is the type of man to show his love and devotion to you through meaningful Acts of Service. There’s little to nothing the Batter wouldn’t do for you. He isn’t above taking hits for you in matches when needed, and he will use his last ball to save you from getting sent back to the manor.

Ganji Gupta who, as much as he loves being on his own, gets a bit lonely at times. Therefore, he loves nothing more than to spend some Quality Time with you. He prefers long walks around the perimeter of the manor and also enjoys getting to rest his head in your lap as the two of you lounge about.

Ganji Gupta teaches you the recipes passed down to him by his Mother. It makes for a great way to spend time together whilst making sure he doesn’t forget them in the process. Cooking with you brings back bittersweet memories and reminds him of his Mother all too much.

Ganji Gupta frequently wakes up from relentless night terrors. He’s heard of other Survivors describing their own experiences with them but didn’t think it would happen to him. Now he finds himself waking up in a cold sweat and alone in bed with nobody to calm him down. This leads to him sleeping in your dorm room more often than not in a way to help combat these nightmares. Hopefully, he can get some rest tonight thanks to your help.

✦— FIRST OFFICER

Who doesn’t know the brave young man Jose Baden? The Sea Knight who wields a pocket watch said to have been blessed by Posiden himself, the artifact that always ensures smooth sailing? The First Officer is punctual, humble, and always knows what he wants. He just didn’t expect it to be you.

Nonetheless, the heart can guide a man better than any map can. He may indeed have fallen for you first, but you undeniably fell harder. Although, who wouldn’t with the way he constantly sweeps you off your feet?

Jose Baden is always true to his words when it comes to you, and therefore showers you with Words of Affirmation. It makes communication between the two of you much easier when there’s nothing to hide. And there are only so many words to describe his love for you, so we’ll have to start from the top and work our way down.

Jose Baden, who cannot keep his hands off you. No matter where the two of you are. Physical Affection is this man's specialty and has been embedded into his DNA. It's the simple things like his pinky finger being entwined with yours or his arm around your shoulder, holding you close.

Jose Baden isn’t afraid to show his love for you in front of others and would never shy away from it. It’s truly a gift to be head over heels, so why hide it? Why not show off what he’s got and everything that’s so precious about ‘em?

Jose Baden who can’t help but take a hit for you in games. He doesn’t ever want to see your blood spilled, and would rather have his coat on the map instead. He’s ready to face the stern talking you’ll give him after the match, but you’ll patch him up anyway.

Jose Baden doesn't like admitting the fact that he misses the sea badly. The things Jose would do just for an evening back on the ocean are wild and many. The closest thing he's got is Lakeside Village, but even the calming waves that brush upon the shore can't heal the pain in his heart. The Officer will admit his feelings to you in an act of desperation and comfort. And comfort he receives from you. From cuddling and listening to him rant about the ocean for the 100th time to peppering his face with soft kisses that seemingly never stop.

✦— FORWARD

Said to have been the creator of Rugby himself, you always want William Ellis on your team. He successfully lifts the spirits of all his teammates while headbutting into the Hunter just before they use excitement. It's the thought that counts, right?

To have William in your corner means to have someone who is with you through thick and thin. Someone who will stick by your side until the end of time itself. And until you can finally realize just how much the Rugby Star adores you.

William Ellis who can’t help but hold you close. Physical Affection is this man’s go-to for showing how much he loves you. Like Jose, he will never feel embarrassed or ashamed when showering you with his form of love and affection. He’s either got an arm around your waist or your hand in his—there’s no in-between.

William Ellis loves Giving Gifts just as much as he loves Receiving Them. While the Forward’s not the best at picking out pre-made gifts, he is the best at making ones straight from the heart. Using his clues and fragments, he’ll craft something he finds worthy of gifting you. Whether it be something like a small, red box in the shape of a heart or a bracelet that has your and his initials on it, the gifts are all made with you in mind.

That being said, William Ellis will treasure anything you gift him in return. And that can be anything. Silly little notes passed underneath the table during dinner. A beaded anklet that has left a tan mark because he never takes it off. Or a smaller version of his Ruby ball with every stitch being almost exact.

William Ellis who’s afraid he might not be good enough for you. Who fears that one day he may be forgotten by everyone he’s ever loved. Maybe that’s why he works so damn hard. To prove to himself (and others) that he’s worth remembering. Fortunately, there’s no need to go the extra mile when it comes to you. William’s proven himself more than enough already, hasn’t he?

note: a little gift for all my Ganji, William, and Jose lovers out there. made 4: @rieuvie + @williamkisser + @ch6douin +@jklovu + @5ku11h34rt

(2024) ©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

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yourantag · 1 month

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Do NOT Let Him Cook (Morningstar!Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Happy White Day! I'm probably not posting more than this and the other fic I was supposed to post Valentine's Day (which, as you can see, I failed in doing) for March. I will, however, be posting a little more in April cause that is my birthday month! Expect a few indulgent fics. This fic is honestly just crack, so if you need something silly and sweet, here we are! Genuinely, do not let this man cook. Word count: 2.2k words Summary: It's White Day, a day of reciprocated love. Of course, Helel has to give you something in return for your wonderful Valentine's gift. Now, if only he could figure out how he turned a tart into a fruity croissant...

There were very few things Helel feared. The first, of course, was you. He held your heart in his hands as you did too, yes, but no one could get him to obey them quite like you could. It was loyalty, it was devotion, one reciprocated through blood and love. To possess such power over him is somewhat of a marvel, something to fear, even just a little.

The second was your death, the thought of you leaving his side forever. He'd tear apart the world, commit sacrilege in the holiest places, and declare war upon the gods before he'd let someone take you from him. Still, he cannot control plagues, time, or the hostility within the hearts of humans. Life is delicate, even Helel cannot deny that.

The third thing he feared, Helel learned, was baking.

It seems simple enough, really. Chuck a few ingredients in, mix it, then toss it in an oven. Easy, right? Looking around him now, with smoke billowing off the charred tray (and wow, he didn't know metal could burn like that), Helel was completely at a loss.

"Ah, these don't seem quite right." He muttered, scratching his cheek. All Helel wanted was to give you something in return for your Valentine's gift, something special. He had consulted many people, even asking some of the prisoners, as odd as that sounded.

Most didn't give any good responses, only saying "please let me go" or "you're going to pay for this." Terrible advice, really. Not even on topic, either, but it could be worse, he supposed. So, he went to ask his favorite person to bother.

"For the love of- just make them cookies or something!" Nebuchadnezzar had exclaimed, absolutely done with Helel's ramblings. He looked about ready to chew his tongue off so he could finally know peace again. At least death wouldn't ramble about their lover for 15 hours straight.

It had been a decent suggestion, so Helel had taken it. Perhaps he shouldn't have, considering the disaster that was most of his creations.

The counters were covered in flour, the fine powder dusting the area like snow. Splatters of batter, egg, and butter painted some places like abstract art. The worst place of all, funnily enough, was the table. It was completely clean, presenting only a few delectable looking treats.

Sadly, they were not exactly what they were made to be. Somehow, Helel had managed to make bread instead of cake, a croissant instead of a tart, and now small bricks instead of cookies. He carefully tapped one against the counter, wincing as the wood chipped under the force. The cookie, however, was fine.

'I... can't give them this.'

Helel smiled awkwardly, wanting nothing but to slam his face against a wall. He had thought "it couldn't be that hard!" and look at him now. It was pathetic, to the point he genuinely considered just asking a servant to make something instead. However, that's literally something he could do any other day. It didn't carry the significance he'd want it to.

You had given him the head of the rebellion's leader, which most would find horrifying but he found terribly romantic. The best Valentine's gift, truly. Sure, he couldn't give you something of equal value, but he could try and match the sentiment. Helel knew you loved effort and thought, so he would do his best to give you something of that in equal measure.

So, he couldn't give up. Helel once again turned to a different page in the cook book, praying to himself that he didn't fuck up this time. He couldn't possibly mess up sugar cookies, right? They were simple, so surely no matter what they'd be fine.

He was cursing himself wasn't he?

He poured the ingredients, carefully measuring them as he went through the motions. It went smoother this time since he just made cookies (if he could really call them that). With practice under his belt, Helel managed to make a tray of cookies.

"Now I roll them in sugar before baking... where's the sugar?" He looked around, grabbing at the jars in front of him.

"That's flour... that's baking powder... or is it baking soda?... that's powdered milk... wait why do we have powdered milk? Oh!" Helel smiled as he finally found what he was looking for. He didn't know how the chefs managed to get anything done with nothing labeled, but that was the beauty of not being a chef. He didn't have to know, and perhaps he never would.

So, he popped open the glass jar, pouring in the crystalline fragments into a bowl. They glimmered innocently in the light, small gems that melted upon one's tongue.

Helel quickly tossed each cookie ball into the bowl, placing them back onto the tray afterward. Making sure they weren't too close together, he arranged them one last time. Finally, he placed them in the oven. The timer would let him know when they were ready.

The man sighed, moving quickly to wash the dirty dishes. He knew he could leave it to the servants, but at this point, he just wanted to get rid of the evidence of his failures. Sure, most of his baked treats looked... fine, but the first few looked as though it had gone through someone's digestive system already.

After all was said and done, Helel felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. If this was what the chefs dealt with on the daily, he was going to have to give them a raise. All this for some desserts? Really? They deserved to be paid more for this misery.

Checking the timer, he nodded to himself. 10 minutes was enough time to snack on something. Helel let himself drop into a seat, groaning as his weary legs finally got to rest. He grabbed the cake-turned-bread, cutting off a small slice. The cookies were a definite no, and he had his suspicions about the croissant, but the bread seemed fine.

'If I get poisoned from this, they're never going to let me live it down.'

You would absolutely make fun of him. Morningstar, the King of Babel, dying from his own creation. It sounded like a story Shakespeare wrote, really. Helel hoped more for his pride rather than his life that he wasn't that bad at baking.

Taking a few bites, he found that he wasn't dying yet. Which was relieving, of course, but to his surprise, the bread also tasted not bad. Sweeter than most breads, but nothing unbearable. It was probably going to be one of the few things he could actually share with you.

At the chime of the timer, Helel took the cookies out of the oven, letting them cool. That would give him another few minutes to start packing things up. Should he use red ribbon or white? It's a White Day gift, yes, but you told him red reminded you of him.

Humming, the young king started slicing the bread, gently placing the slices in a nice container. Perhaps he should pack some jam in the basket too- it would go well with it.

Helel glanced at the first batch of cookies, opting to dump them in the trash after a brief moment of contemplation. Could they be used as projectiles? Honestly, yes. Was he going to let anyone know he failed that badly? Never.

Finally, he took a bite of one of the croissants. It was fine as well, just odd. The fruit fillings and cream were distributed well throughout the pastry. If it weren't for the fact that it was supposed to be a tart, Helel might have been proud.

Packing those up as well, he placed the 2 containers in a basket, grabbing a few jars of jam and a butter knife. By then, the cookies were sufficiently cooled. Though, after taking another look at them, Helel wondered what he had done wrong this time.

Unlike the first batch, these cookies were puffy. They weren't like cream puffs, but they were certainly not cookies. Had he mixed up which of the powders he was using? He really wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

The other pastries he had packed weren't made to be what they ended up as, but tasted fine anyway. Maybe, these would be the same.

So, shrugging his shoulders, Helel tossed one of the "cookies" in his mouth.

And instantly he regretted it.

It was salty. Not salty in the pleasantly seasoned way, but salty as in if he had drank salt water it would taste better than this.

Spitting out the abomination, Helel glared at one of the jars. Of course he mixed up the sugar and salt, of course. Still, he at least had something other than this. He'd just have to dispose of these.

If you didn't find him.

The door clicks open, and Helel can't decide whether he wants to scream or jump right out the window. In the doorway, as he expects, is you. You're always welcome in his eyes, his wonderful, perfect significant other. However, at this particular moment, he really wishes you weren't here.

"Helel? What are you doing here?"

Though you ask, you already seem to at least know he was baking. Not a very hard assumption to make, all things considered, but that just makes things harder for him.

"I was... baking." He says, giving a strained smile as he slowly grabs the tray of cookies. Hopefully, if he's quick enough, you won't even notice him toss the entire thing in the trash.

'Please do not ask about these, please don't notice-'

"Is that a scone dusted in salt???"

Helel was going to throw himself off a cliff.

"...I was trying to make sugar cookies."

The look you give him simply reaffirms his decision.

"I... see. What's the occasion?" You draw closer to him, staring curiously at the basket. He's thankful he managed to add a blanket on top beforehand, though it would've been nice if he had tied a ribbon around the handle, too.

"It's White Day, so I wanted to give you something special." Helel responded, dropping the tray with a sigh. It was too late to hide it, so why bother?

You hum softly, lips curling into a smile. You grab one of the scones, taking a bite before he can warn you. Yet, instead of spitting it out like he expected, you chewed as though nothing were wrong with it.

"Are- are you okay?" He can't help but ask. He had tried one right before you came- he knew they didn't taste good. So, how was it that you ate the entire scone without even cringing in the slightest?

"Yep, I'm fine. I'm sure you already know, but these are salty." You laugh, quickly grabbing a glass of water and chugging it. Despite the concern he feels, Helel can't help the way his chest warms.

"Well, yeah, I was going to warn you about that. Can't believe you ate it all- I spat it out immediately. Why did you eat it anyway?" He can't help but ask. You weren't one to shy away from being honest. The fact you looked him in the eye and told him it was salty was proof enough. You weren't scared of him, so why would you put yourself through that?

You give him a smile, tilting your head towards the window. The sun is high in the sky, letting all know that it was sometime in the afternoon.

"You've been here for... I'm guessing at least 5 hours. I don't know how you haven't collapsed yet, but that's not the point right now. The point is," You take his hands into yours, kissing each of his knuckles. "I see your effort, and I don't want to let it go to waste."

Helel, for all his cruelty, his hatred, his grief- cannot be anything but in love for you. To love is to be seen, to be known, and it seems that for all his life, that's exactly what you've done. Seen him, known him, but most of all, loved him.

So, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses from your palm down to your wrist. He lingers there, letting you cradle his face as he closes his eyes.

It wasn't perfect by all means, but he thinks that this small moment is worth more than anything he could've ever orchestrated. Helel doesn't need endless praise, gifts, or overwhelming acts. All he needed was a bit of acknowledgement, a bit of love.

"Happy White Day, my sun.”

ALTERNATE STORY:

Helel did not realize he was that bad at baking. He completely blames Nebuchadnezzar for everything.

"HELEL, HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MANAGE TO MAKE A MONSTER!?"

"HIS NAME IS FREDERICK KREIBURG AND HE'S SORRY TO SAY THAT HE'S FRENCH!"

"WE AREN'T EVEN IN FRANCE! WHAT DID YOU ADD TO THOSE COOKIES? THE CREMATED REMAINS OF YOUR DAD!?"

"...that explains why the sugar was so dusty."

"...Helel Morningstar Babel-"

"Ahaha... ha..."

Yeah, Helel was going to kill his brother if you didn't end up killing him first.

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic

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meowordeath · 16 days

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A/N: I love Identity V!! especially Eli Clark!! I attempt to make it as gender ambiguous as possible, besides one having the word boob just replace it with pec! i didn’t know a gender neutral term for boob, sorry! :3 btw I'm not sure if someone else has already done this!

Characters | Eli Clark , Ganji Gupta , Naib Subedar and the lovely lady Patricia Dorval

Content warning : fluff , reader with boobs but no specific pronoun, not too inappropriate, jack the ripper And Breaking wheel if those count?

Identity V characters reacting to their s/o clothes getting ripped! :3

Eli Clark

Before the match started Eli got to view your new costume. It looked very ninja like, the clothes were very skin tight. You two chatted while preparing for the match “Remember, just called out and I'll send brooke to your aid, okay?” He whispered to you laying his gloved hand atop yours. “I know, don't worry if I need you I’ll shout”

You smile before pecking him on the cheek. Brooke hoots happily, as Eli gives you one more loving look, before everyone's sight fades.

For first few minutes of the match you had been decoding. Feeling more relaxed as Luca shouted the hunter was on him, making him first kite. Your cipher was a little over half way done, as Luca started kiting toward you. At first you assumed he was just kiting in the area so you didn't bother to get off the cipher.

Your heartbeat started to get more prominent, but you were still very lax, thinking Luca and whoever the hunter was were just getting closer, when a shout rang out through the map. “Beware! Hunter has changed target!” You lifted your head abruptly from your cipher, accidentally messing up a calibration in the process making you shield your face from the explosion.

Soon after you messed it up you felt blades run from your back to your side. You cry out in pain bumping into the cipher as you sprint away, unfortunately the cipher snagged one of the slashes he had made in your shirt. A dark chuckle sounded behind you as you ran.

“This chase is already way more exciting than chasing that decoder,” Jack said licking the blood from his blades. You ran vaulting windows, throwing pallets for distance, you even led him back to Luca. Luca had a flustered look watching you pass him.

Eli knew you were currently kiting and trusted that you’d call out for help, so he didn't want to waste his spectate. “Help me!” Your shout rang out through the map. Eli was quick to send brooke to your aid. Looking through brooke's eyes he was shocked at the condition of your current costume. His face turned a little red.

Jack had only meant to slash your back, but since you messed up the calibration his slash went down your side, slicing open your shirt. It would've been fine with thin slashes, if your crash into the cipher hadn't caused your shirt to snag. It tore and your right boob was pretty much exposed.

You were trying to hold onto some dignity pulling the shreddings of your shirt over to cover it, but vaulting and pulling down pallets. You needed both your hands. Jack definitely had a great view of you each time you pulled down pallets. Eli was quick to find the teams other assist, William, and asking for his help to get The Ripper off you.

William was quick to assist. He stunned Jack allowing you to escape and hide, forcing him switch targets. Eli set brooke to find you, so he could help.

When he did find you, you were crouched behind a pallet, making a pathetic attempt to save your shirt. Eli crouched in front of you, not looking at your chest, instead checking over the wound. “It’s gonna be okay s/o, you can have my trench coat” His voice was slightly flustered, as he shed his coat.

He was left in his white long-sleeve button-up and black tie. You couldn't be more thankful for him wearing his recluse costume. “Thank you, Eli. God, this is pretty embarrassing!” Both your guy's faces have a faint blush, as you button up his trench coat finally covering your exposed flesh.

Eli's nervousness faded as he smiled. Lifting his hand to cup your cheek. “Don't worry, if they say anything, I'll have brooke rose peck out their eyes” he jokes, brooke hoots in agreement.

Ganji gupta

You and Tracy are both hanging out in the manors workshop. She was originally tinkering until you came in, wanting to show off your new costume to her. It had this futuristic theme, and Tracy was quick abandoned her invention to mess with the small gadgets they stuck to you as accessories.

On the front-side of your shorts, you had some sort of tablet with buttons and fun looking controls. It was attached to some belt that had other gadgets, they were all locked to the belt, which was attached to the shorts. Tracy was crouched down messing with them all.

“How mad do you think Miss Nightingale would be if I started taking this stuff apart?” Tracy said with a small grin. You look down and it seems she had already took her screwdriver to a few things. “Well, I guess we will find out” She laughed at your words.

Everything was going fine you were standing as you watch Tracy dismantle each piece of futuristic tech on the belt. Ganji knocked before entering the workshop. He sighed looking at Tracy crouched next to you. “How much longer are you gonna keep my s/o, Reznik?”

Ganji was told this was only gonna be a quick visit to show off the costume. Yet He’d been left waiting out there for at least 20 minutes. “Calm down ‘Gupta’ your s/o came here to show off their costume to me not you!” Tracy taunted, while saying his name is a mocking tone. Ganji scoffed, setting his cricket bat down at the door.

“Who do you think they showed it to first, Reznik.” Ganji sounded like he was subtly bragging, at being the first person to see you in the new costume. Tracy rolled her eyes. “Darn, the screen to this thing just doesn't want to come off!” She said trying to get the screen off, to get the wiring.

Ganji started to walk toward them reaching to pull Tracy off his s/o. “Okay Reznik, I’ve had my fair share of sharing my s/o.” Before He could reach Tracy she had fell back as her force caused your shorts to rip.

Tracy honestly didn't see anything with how fast Ganji was to cover you, He scowled down at Tracy. “I'm sorry...?” She said with a sheepish smile. “Find my s/o something to cover up with Reznik” He said firmly. She was quick to bolt out of the room. “Right! I'll be right back!”

She didn't look back in fear of seeing Ganji's harsh gaze. You could help but rest you forehead against his back laughing. “What are you laughing at? You’re currently in your underwear, if you hadn’t noticed.” He said turning toward you with a slight frown.

“I can’t help but laugh at the silliness of this situation my love. I never expected Tracy to rip my shorts, all so she could get the tablet!” You found this situation pretty funny. Ganjis frown turned into a small smile with your amusement.

“Glad you find this amusing. Though I’d rather be the only one to see my lover without pants on.” His words made your face slightly red. “Okay, perv.” His gaped slightly. “… I’ll remember that the next time your clothes rip. I won’t cover you.”

You smile squeezing his cheeks. “Yes you will, because you love me!” He sighed as you squeezed his face passive-aggressively. “… Yes I will.”

Naib Subedar

You know your lover hates Murro with an burning passion. Mostly because he hates boars, but you thought Murro’s boar was kinda cute.

Unfortunately Murro stayed very far away from you, making it so you barely saw his boar outside of matches.

It was a very nice day at the manor, survivor matches going smoothly, not that you had any matches to participate in today, Naib had about one or tw. With him on the team you didn’t doubt they would win.

In the manor there is an outdoor area, and due to you not having any matches today you want to go walk around in the sun for a bit.

On your way out you were wearing loose fitting loungewear. Not being in a match you didn’t want to put effort into putting on one of your usually costumes.

The sun felt good especially after being inside for most the day, you would take what you can get before Naib decides to ‘lowkey’ glue himself to your side. The outdoor part of the manor was pretty big enough to have a small forest, with a gate surrounding the whole area of course.

In the distance near trees you saw a tail and decided to investigate. Upon getting closer you realized its nust Murro's boar.

“Oh, I wonder why you’re out here by yourself. Is Murro around?” You said crouching down in front of the boar. It kind of just stared at you chewing on grass.

“Right, you’re an animal you can’t talk…” You felt a little awkward as the boar stared you down. “Well… I’m gonna go back that way…?” You stand dusting yourself off. As you stand the boar approaches you. You got back down wanting to pet it.

It did let you pet it for a moment, you got to even rub its stomach. It was fun, until you decided to go back inside and it grabbed ahold of the back of your shirt.

You and the boar had a short staring match. “Hmm, as much as I would love to spend more time with you Murro’s boar i’m sure my boyfriend is done with his match.” You said trying to tug the shirt from its mouth.

The boar refused turning it into a game of tug-a-war. “Let. go!” You huffed out fighting against the animal, you could hear the fabric starting to tear from you two pulling on it.

With one last tug you fell backwards, grunting in pain. It had a good chunk of fabric in its mouth as its trophy. You heard hurried footsteps. looking up you saw Murro. “I’m sorry! I didn't realize my boar had wandered away, forgive me!” He reached out to help you.

Unfortunately Naib had just arrived at the scene to see Murro’s boar with some of your shirt in its mouth, and Murro himself standing over you. In a moment a blade whizzed past, slicing Murro’s cheek causing him to fall on his butt in fear.

Looking behind you, he could see a very angry Naib hauling ass toward you all. In fear he quickly abandoned you. Hopping on his boar he left, running in the opposite direction.

Naib almost ran past you to chase Murro if you hadn’t gotten up quickly to grab the back of his shirt. “Wait, don’t chase after him!” You struggled to hold on to the man.

“I’ll gut him and that boar. How dare he sica damn animal on you.” His voice wasn't a shout but he was definitely furious. He was very strong actually draggjng you as he tried to pursue Murro.

You pull on his ponytail dragging his head back. “Hold your horses, who said anything about him siccing his boar on me?!” You let go of his hair as he stopped for a moment. “What do you mean, his boar was standing over you with some of your clothes in it mouth. How could that not be an attack on you?” He finally turned toward you head tilted slightly in confusion.

Sighing, you lightly pat Naib's cheek. “I wouldn't say it was an attack, I was originally playing with the boar. It only was trying to stop me from walking away, and Murro said he ran over after noticing it was gone.”

Naib’s eyebrows were still furrowed, eyes slightly closed, as of he was trying to see if you were lying for the sake of Murro. “Fine, I won't chase after him, for now.”

You grin pinching your lovers cheek. “Good! Now lets go inside you smell like shit” You say looping your elbow with his to lead him back to the manor. He rolled his eyes. “Whatever dear.”

Patricia Dorval

“Breaking wheel...! That son... sons? Of a bitch!” You say irritated, cursing his name to the sky quietly. He had been chasing you for most of the match before you lovely, kind, sweetheart patricia, took kite.

Inside your head you gushed about your girlfriend as you were trying to remove his spikes from not only your clothing but from your skin, as it had penetrated through the cloth into you.

Pulling them out was a huge pain, It hurt like hell. If only someone could help. You couldn't reach the ones in your back. Your mind drifted to Patricia as you pondered how her kite was going.

“You need help?” A raspy voice spoke out from behind you causing to yell and jump. Quickly turning around your faced wth the sneaky bastard who turned out to be Kreacher.

“Damn it Kreacher, you don't just sneak up on people like that!” You shout at the man hand over your heart. Other one raised as if you were going to hit him.

He back away from your shouts ready to coward out, and run away from your aggression. “Wait! Yes, I need help...” You say embarrassed about having to ask Kreacher of all people, to help you.

He was a little hesitant to come toward you, he had a sketical look toward you as you were just shouting but he did anyways. “Stay still and Ill get them removed” He said hand already painfully pulling one lodged in your back.

You try to hold in your pained shouts, refusing to show that this bothered you in front of Kreacher. They were pretty thin the spikes, but very sharp with tiny barbs that makes sense them hard to get from your skin.

Kreacher doesn't exactly have the gentlest hands while removing these from both your clothes and skin. You couldn't tell if he was trying to hurt you or help you.

“You could slow down damn it! Stop removing them fast you asshole, It hurts!” You hiss pulling away as he pulled another one carelessly out.

“Maybe if you could actually dodge breaking wheel..” You heard him mutter under his breath. “What did you just say!?” You say ticked off. “Nothing!!” He quickly says pulling one out to distract you.

He was pulling out the last one when both your hearts started to beat slightly, though it was barely anything to make you fret, polun didn't even know where you two were.

Coward freaking Pierson on the other hand grabbed ahold of the last spike dragging it down your back as he pulled away, bolting.

The specific spike he pulled was at the top so it tore all the way down, making the shirt go forward almost exposing if you hadn’t held it up with your hands. You grind your teeth slightly, turning to curse out to Kreacher.

As you turned your eyes met Patricia's, who had wacked Kreacher down with her ape skull, making his head bleed as he dizzily sat on the ground.

“Sorry I wasn't here sooner s/o, but at least I crushed this roach.” She said walking past him to you. She pecked you on the cheek getting her lipstick on your face, before looking at your back which was now exposed.

You had some blood drops rolling down from the sprike removals. She cut some more of your shirt so that she could tie a not in the back so it wouldn't fall off.

“I would take Kreachers jacket and give it to you, but I'd rather none of his filthy items touch you” She said as she gently caressed your back, careful of the small wounds.

You blushed at her caring gesture. “I should've warn a different costume one with a jacket, that's my bad.” She put her arms around your neck. “Well, I for one really like this costume, too bad it gonna be temporarily out of commission”

She makes it so hard for you not to swoon when shes this sweet. Kreacher groans reminding you two he was there.

Patricia unhooks her arms from around your neck. “Let's leave that thing and go decode the last cipher. Polun will find and kill it” She says loud enough for him to hear.

She grabs your hand pulling you away toward a cipher, while you follow her happily. Patricia was right about Kreacher as he was found & killed after Ganji led the hunter to him. At least the 3 of them escaped!

PLEASE I REALLY TRIED HARD TO MAKE THEM ALL SIMILAR LENGTH!! Hope you like this :3

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #naib subedar x reader #mercenary x reader #eli clark x reader #ganji gupta x reader #seer x reader #batter x reader #enchantress x reader #patricia dorval x reader #patricia dorval #eli clark #ganji gupta #naib subedar #idv fanfic

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acosmicblizzard · 1 month

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Hello there! Such a cute blog the colours and aesthetic reminds me of cheesecake and sweet pastries ❤️❤️❤️

May I request something with idv? Can I request a headcanon about a baker female survivor, who loves to bake for both the survivors and even the hunters. She even goes to the hunters side to give them their favourite pastries. She’s not a talker but she likes to show how she’s feeling through actions. She’s very motherly to both the survivors and hunters and even during matches she leaves muffins behind her whenever the hunter is chasing her (a sneaky way of distracting the hunter while the others decode and she gets away) also her pastries serve as an energy boost and healing to the survivors during matches.

Hello! Thank you so much for the request! It took me awhile due to dealing with some writers block but I'm finally feeling well enough to write!

Various survivors & hunters with a Female Baker Survivor Reader.

Warnings: Mentions of food

Story type: Fluff, Au, can be considered platonic or romantic depending on the characters being interacted with.

Pairings/Characters: Various

The manor getting new survivors is nothing new, so when another red wax sealed letter was sent out people on both sides were expecting either a new ally, or simply another prey. Once you arrived some rushed to greet you, some stayed to the side and watched, some never interacted with at all, some were weary, there were a lot of different reactions due to the many different personalities of the residents of the manor.

Whenever the first few matches started, it took awhile for some survivors to get use to you handing out treats. Confused as to why you baked treats for a murder game only to come to realize that firstly, they tasted good, and the benefits they gave. It took some survivors like Naib, Aesop, Kreacher, and some others a longer time to actually take the treats though given their personalities and various other issues. Eventually though, they'll all get use to your helping and kind presence in matches.

When this kindness started extending to the hunters, many of them were suspicious. However some of them like robbie accepted the treats with glee, which gradually had some of the hunters start warming up to you. Even if your treats can be a bit annoying if you give them to another survivor mid kite or how distracting they can get when left on the ground while they're chasing you, it's hard to deny that you're handing them out of the kindness of your heart and generally just want the best for others.

Overtime, the younger end of survivors and hunters especially the ones who are children, teenagers, or just barely young adults often stay by your side. Finding your presence very comfy and welcoming among all the different people in the manor. Not only can you make some hella good treats, you're also a very comforting and caring person that they can go to for comfort.

Time will continue to go on in these endless games, but your kindness and sweet treats will remain a staple bright light amidst all the chaos and fighting.

#identity v #idv #identity v headcanons #idv headcanons #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic #idv x reader #identity v x reader #platonic identity v #platonic idv #fanfiction

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bychilli · 3 months

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i'm ecstatic to announce that i've finally released my first Norton Campbell fanfic in A03! i'm super excited (and super nervous) for you guys to read it. i'm leaving a short preview and the link to my work. happy reading guys!

Let me be your Hero (Norton Campbell x G/N Reader)

"Up to this day, even as I watched Orpheus throw hard punches on the miner's beaten up face, blood splattering from his mouth. His back barely touches the ground as the novelist held him by the scarf around his neck with every blow he receives. I can tell from where I am, he's too weak, too tired to even fight back, even after we've given our word to one another to have each other's back. I couldn't just sit there and let him take all of it. Why? This world has done him dirty already, and he didn't deserve any more of it. I know it, he's giving up, letting go of the promises, the plans, his very purpose why he's here, even though we all ended up as pawns to this stupid game. To me it didn't matter, it was all worth it because I met him."

#identity v #idv #idv fandom #idv fanfic #idv norton #idv norton campbell #idv prospector #idv x reader #norton campbell x reader #ao3 fanfic

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nikfishstix · 11 months

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Redraw of that yoi sweater scene with some aesvic bonus because of course I would

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estarlias · 4 months

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Hoping request thingies are still open but

Can you do something with Norton Campbell and a shy male reader? I'm kinda shy especially with tall men HELP umm yeah it could be nsfw if you can

hi !! i feel so bad but idk if i’m any good at writing AMAB smut so i just gave some general headcanons i’m sorry 💔

[NORTON CAMPBELL NSFW/GENERAL HEADCANONS 🪸]

when I tell you this man is a FLIRTTTT… he just LOVES to see you all flustered and riled up, he goes to such great lengths just to see that shy blush on your cheeks.

if you’re shorter than him, you better expect that he’s going to be grabbing your chin constantly just to see you avert his gaze

a nice 6-7 inches! idk about y’all but having 8-9 inches would HURTT

will literally act so down bad just to see you get nervous

shamelessly moans your name while he jerks off, knowing damn well you can hear him.

he’d be into teasing you, both sexually and non sexually.

he knows what turns you on, does it constantly, then acts all innocent when you mention it to him

he wants to see you all worked up, wants you to ask for his attention, pretending it wasn’t his intention all along

did I mention he’s shameless? would have u on his lap just so u can feel his bulge underneath his pants

sucks you off like a starved man. we’ve all seen the bread and milk clip.

soft dom norton real! talks you through it, very gentle with prep and even gentler with aftercare

HAVE YALL SEEN THOSE WAX CANDLES THAT TURN INTO LOTION.

probably into some light bdsm, would totally edge you just to hear your little whimpers!

would have u suck him off after a rough match (let me pretend that the manor doesn’t kill everyone.)

mutual masturbation, gets hard right after cuming just looking at your flushed, moaning face.

PET NAMES.

maybe a switch, let’s you top sometimes if you’re feeling up for it

likes to overstimulate you just for fun!! he thinks you look sooooo handsome when you’re whimpering and begging while he continues to touch you

#norton campbell #norton idv #idv prospector #idv smut #norton campbell smut #norton smut #identity v prospector #amab reader #gender neutral reader #idv #idv fanfic

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handsometheo · 20 days

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I NEED TO STOP DISAPPEARING ISTG

Um any Idv characters x reader ideas, even if its just little prompts..

Characters I'd mainly like to write for even just a little (to ease myself back into writing) is:

Norton Campbell (literally my fav)

Fools Gold (ik hes norton but yk same applies)

Ithaqua

Sangria (MOTHER 😍)

Emil Mesmer

Ada Mesmer (they can be separate or together)

Orpheus (not the bird though, sorry not in the right headspace for him)

And lucky guy (i think hes silly :])

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heartshapedbubble · 6 months

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and now, for a request that took me six months to start writing and two months to finish due to personal stuff. jesus christ i should start including financial compensation alongside my fics.

anyways happy spooky szn everyone!! now that my reqs are finally empty i'll be reworking my page soon and opening them again💞

unspoken words, an orpheus x maid reader fanfic📕

tags/heads up: reader is a maid, gender not specified, one sided enemies to lovers kinda????, suggestive only if you squint really hard and get your eyes reaaaally close to the screen (theres only kissing tbh)

-------------------------------------------------------

Being a survivor was never easy. Peer pressure from both your team and people outside it, dealing with all sorts of blows directed right at you - either the physical ones, by the hunter, or the verbal ones from the other survivors.

But being a survivor AND a servant? It made things even worse.

Right after a match, it was only a matter of time when you'd hear groans and whines about how there's no tea and biscuits served in the living room, how there's so much dust on library shelves, how stained the floor in the hall is. And there was no time to catch a break, hell, no time to heal either. You roughly wiped your bloodstained knees, plucked out pieces of wood that dug themselves into your palms, and got back to work. As drops of remaining blood rolled down your leg and you felt your hips crack each time you bent down, you got back to your everyday cleaning service. As you were a maid - the only one that was available at all times, at least, and the only one who was actually living and not just a stitched-up corpse - most if not all of the household manor duties ended up a burden on your back. Strolling between the survivor side and the hunter side, you served warm cups of lemon tea, handed clean towels, even polished shoes. And my god, there was no mercy from either side. Everything was always "not good enough", and most of the time you barely even got a "thank you" handed back. One time, one especially daring hunter dared to spit on you as you scrubbed the tiles beneath him - let's just say that the handle of your broom got to his ankles quite quickly.

The maid life was ugly, but it had its benefits, too. For example, you heard all sorts of juicy gossip dealt from mouth to mouth, from ear to ear, dark secrets from every single person inhabiting the manor. And as most people ignored you unless they needed some unimportant favor from you, in the meantime there was plenty of alone time you could use up until the next bell ring. Curled up in a hidden part of the library, a plate stacked with softened butter cookies by your feet, your free time was spent dozing off on the soft, velvet cushions of the hard sofa by the foggy window, your eyes occasionally skimming through a yellowed book.

"Oh, sorry." Helena mumbled as the tip of her cane accidentally scratched your hand as you scrubbed the floor. "I knew you were somewhere in front of me, but I didn't know where exactly."

"It's all good, Hele." Helena was one of the more polite residents, but it was just part of her nature - shy, polite, respectful. Compared to everyone else, she was just a kid after all.

You achingly checked the grandfather clock looming over you, waiting eagerly until it rang for five o'clock and signaled your break for the day. Yesterday you stumbled over a really good book, with a fascinating plot decked into at least five hundred pages. You barely got to skim over the first few when you heard a whine from the living room, demanding a serving of pastries. It kept you up all day long and you could barely contain yourself from running to your little haven straight away.

At last, your deserved break came, and you almost tripped over the carpet folds as you ran towards the rusty trapdoor separating you from your one-hour paradise. Yet, as you lunged right for the piled-up cushions, you noticed a figure.

Someone.

Sitting on your sofa.

Reading a book.

Not just a random book.

The exact same one you picked up and tucked under the pillows yesterday, so no one can get their grubby little hands on it except you.

And, to top it all off, it was no other than the novelist, Orpheus, who was sifting impatiently through the pages, splayed on your sofa like a frog, his leg bouncing nervously.

Ugh, that Orpheus. He was polite and all, one of the exceptions, good-looking even, but god did something about him rub you the wrong way. He always said hello, said goodbye, said thank you and please, smiled back at you, yet...

"Oh, good afternoon, ___!"

The position he was in right now really wasn't helping.

"Hello, sir Orpheus." The "sir" title you had to use out of respect awfully repulsed you, even more so than "lady". Perhaps it was the undertone of uttermost submission unavoidably coming with it. "May I ask you, what are you doing here?"

"Oh. Well, I was on a.... little expedition, will you", he chuckled, nervously playing with the buttons on the cuff of his shirt, "Y'know, messing with the bookshelves and what not, when I stumbled upon this fine little room. Seems like I'm not the first one to discover it, am I?"

"No, you're not." You forced yourself to smile, and sat right by him, the cushions dipping under your weight and slightly pulling you two closer. "I've claimed it as my own, in fact. I believe you don't mind that, do you?"

"I-I don't mind it at all! No no, how could I? Well, I..." He mumbled nonsense, trying to hide his face as he cleaned his monocle. He seemed especially nervous today, and he wasn't the calmest in general, either. "...may I assume you don't mind me staying a bit longer here, do you?"

You sighed. Well, maybe some company instead isn't a bad thing. Even if it was him. "I'll let it slip this time. Want some cookies?" You pulled out a scratched tin box from under one of the big cushions, and messed with the tightly clasped lid. "They're a bit stale, but they taste just fine."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. Hesitatingly, he picked a crumbling cookie and wrapped it in his handkerchief. "Thank you for welcoming me so nicely despite your... condition, y'know. I can only imagine how hard it can be having the role of a maid and a competitor at the same time." There was pity in his voice, a hint of internalized shame, maybe. Willingly or not, his last sentence created an uncomfortable silence between you two, and it was only a matter of time before one of you broke it.

"...You're welcome", you went in head-first into the conversation, "but I really don't need your pity. I didn't get a lot of it in the first place, and I sure don't need it now. My life is what it is, and neither of us can change it."

He sighed. "I suppose you're right", he said as he got up and stretched, "just saying, though.. accepting empathy or help here and there really isn't that humbling as it seems." He calmly walked through the trapdoor, as if he didn't say anything.

God. You decide to be nice for once and you get back a lesson instead? How fun. Especially when it's from someone who you thought you could confide in. But you're not going to allow his words to get to your skull - there's so much better things to think of compared to that....

"My apologies, dear." Michiko whispered as she quickly tiptoed away, accidentally bumping into you the second before.

"I'd advise you to be more careful where you tread, doll", Joseph suddenly appeared in the hallway, weaving his words with his usual husky yet elegant voice, "I believe you don't want any accidents to occur while working, hm?"

Out of almost all of the (adult) hunters, Joseph was the most talkative. And you were no exception - he regularly spoke to the other survivors, often scaring them by whispering from behind their back or jumping out of the shadows. He wasn't trying to form strong relationships, obviously, but it seemed like he wasn't the type to withold his comments. After some time spent observing you deduced that Joseph might be a little bit too fascinated with you - or at least a little bit too interested in chatting with you.

"No, Joseph, I, in fact, don't.", you groaned as you threw the broom back in your bucket, "Besides, shouldn't you be more worried about your own wellbeing, old man? Should I bring you some balm for your sore limbs?"

He clicked his tongue. "Tch. You know I have good intentions, dear." One blink later and he already merged with the shadows, looking for someone else to talk to.

"Woah. What was all that about?" You heard a voice behind you, a bit shaky and uncertain. It was - you sighed - Orpheus again, in his hands a ceramic tray stacked with porcelain dishes and silverware, a warm scent of mint emitting from the glossy teapot. He wasn't having a good time trying to balance it in his arms.

"Nothing. Just Joseph being Joseph. Mind me taking this for you?" you grabbed the tray in an instant, now much more stable under your grip.

"I...do, actually." He slowly pulled the tray back towards him, a bit hesitantly now as his hands shook beneath it again. "I thought once you finish we could sit down for tea. Y'know, just the two of us. In the little room in the library. I can bug Norton for some of his tres leches if you want. Or maybe Margaretha for pierogi if you're craving something savory instead... Sorry, I wanted it to be a suprise." He looked away, bashfully, as if he regretted doing all of this in the end. You weren't sure what had gotten into you at that moment, but you suddenly felt that if you don't accept his offer now, you might feel really bad later on. Like looking at a sad little puppy's beady eyes.

"Thinking of it now, it doesn't seem like a bad way to pass the afternoon. I'm in."

You puffed at the steam coming from your cup.

"Joseph really gets on your nerves, hm, ____?"

"A bit, yeah. Snooty old man."

"Ah, come on now, he isn't that bad. He's quite pleasant to talk, actually. A little intimidating, very peculiar, but pleasant. Most of the time."

"Wish it was like that when playing against him. I go through hell and back while dressing my wounds because of his damned rapier. How did it even get approved by the owner?

"He's a veteran, so I believe they decided to let it slip back then. Or maybe he just swayed DeRoss off of his feet with his Frenchman charm and the two lasers he has for eyes."

You almost choked on your tea. Orpheus had a suprisingly sharp tongue, unfitting with his unsuspecting face and downturned eyes. He took off his gloves - revealing rough yet nimble fingers - and scooped some pierogi onto his plate.

"Was this a pleasant enough suprise for you?"

"Well, for the first time someone has been nice to me in a while, it's quite delightful, I admit."

"You mean, you wouldn't consider Joseph being polite towards you as "being nice"?"

"Hm?"

"Oh, just wondering, since I overheard bits of your conversation today. He didn't really sound rude, did he?"

"I mean, he wasn't rude or anything, it's just...I don't know how to explain it. Yeah, people are nice to me, actually, quite a lot of them, but they rarely go beyond their words. They don't put them into action."

"I see. I believe it gets annoying with time."

"It does."

"Do you put what you say into action, too?"

"...What are you implying?"

"As in, when you like a person or care for them, do you also try to put into action your love for them?"

"Orpheus, I put everything into action. Every day. That's my job as a maid."

"Yes, I...know that very well, but do you put love in action, too?"

"I don't have time for love. Nor is there anyone to fully love here, I fear. Just tolerate and like, maybe. If they're really nice."

He sat up straight, his thumb trailing his bottom lip back and forth.

"See, I'm no expert, but I do feel that you're denying yourself of something you don't know you need most."

Leaving you puzzled, he got up and left the room.

"Orpheus, have you ever kissed somebody before?"

He suddenly jolted, staring back at you from the other edge of the sofa.

"What kind of question is that?" He tilted his head, pouring milk into his tea. One tea break ensued after another, and now it has become an unspoken rule to bring something to sip (or munch) on to the library hideout as the clock struck for afternoon.

"You know how they portray poets and novelists. Romantic, sensual, passionate. I just assumed you already have some experience with dating."

A faint pink flashed his cheeks. "Well, now, what is it that prompted you to ask me? And now, of all times?"

Sip by sip, sentence by sentence, and you got quite close to Orpheus in these few months. You couldn't help but think about his words here and there - to do something with love, not just because you have to. Or out of love. Whatever. The following day after he brought you tea for the first time, you felt the moral obligation to invite him for lunch. And so the cycle continued, an opportunity to chat appeared along with it, and in Orpheus you now saw a friend. Perhaps. There were bits of joy in the moments when you picked out the perfect flavor for the day or played with coffee cream, attempting to make some designs with it.

No, in fact, there was no real reason behind your question. It seemed fitting enough for the moment, and maybe, just maybe, you wanted to catch him off guard again.

"Felt like it."

He cleared his throat. "Well, if you're so curious about it.... not really. Fangirls were common but... I'm simply not very experienced. Some may see me as charismatic but once things get a little bit more serious I don't know what to do. Was that the answer you expected from me?"

It was a bit ironic. A bit cute, even. How his charisma only reached up to actual love, the real thing. The same thing he remarked you needed the most.

"Funny. The Orpheus, the detective novel author, afraid of love? Out of all things?"

It didn't take long for him to pout his lips, looking away in shame. "To be fair, there's quite a bit to be afraid of in love. There's commitment, passion, building trust, insecurity... It takes a lot to love."

"I see."

"May I ask you the same question?"

"Which one - if I've ever kissed someone? Never. Never had the opportunity. Never felt the need, in fact. It wasn't a necessity to have a partner, only a plus. It's not something to be terribly afraid of. I believe it just happens and, well, you go with the flow."

"Well, maybe you never feared it because you never reached its starting point."

"Oh, Orpheus, you're supposed to be a novelist, not a philosopher."

The library sofa is quite practical. If you pull the compartment at the bottom of it a little too hard, it can be stretched out, turning it into a large comfortable bed, although a bit rough on the skin.

You and Orpheus laid on the sofa-bed, directly facing the large window, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the glass.

"It's really calming here. Lulls you right to sleep." He started, his monocle set aside. Now having a better look at his so-to-speak "monocled" eye, you noticed it's more downturned than the other.

"...Mhm." Already half asleep, you turned your head towards his face, soaked up his profile through lidded eyes.

"____ , is everything okay?"

"Everything is just fine. Juuust fine. I'm just a bit sleepy."

You looked at his hand, laying by his hip between you two, fingers twitching here and there nervously. He never took his gloves off in front of you except for when he was eating.

"You can go take a nap if you want. I'll wake you up once it's time to go."

Your hand mindlessly headed towards his and your fingers pinched at the satin gloves, trying to take them off his hands.

"No, I think i'm good."

He sighed sharply. That wasn't a sigh of annoyance, it was a sigh of pain, like trying to breathe deeply while your heart aches.

"God, no. Please, ____ , don't do this to me."

He was scared, and now you were too, but his hand remained still. Torn between pleasure and horror. His fingers cold and nimble, his hand rough and calloused again. For an unknown reason, you wanted to hold it, from the second your gaze switched to it.

"I'm not doing anything bad, am I?"

Your fingers finally fit between his, palm to palm. It was weird. Like holding a pleasantly cold cup and trailing across sandpaper at the same time. But it felt good. It felt safe, secure, like it could last forever.

"You know what you're doing."

You felt his fingers tighten around your hand, gripping it tightly.

"...Please keep on doing it."

Seven o'clock.

An envelope in your hands. Your name written on it in the prettiest cursive you've seen, like a treat, baiting you to open it.

But you held back.

You waited.

The door creaked behind you. Not turning back, you spoke softly:

"Orpheus."

"____"

Your name uttered between breaths.

The clack of his shoes, his weight switching from leg to leg, his breathing becoming louder. You could now feel it on your neck. The chilling warmth.

"Why didn't you open the letter?"

"You know why."

"You're cruel."

"But you came anyways."

He sighed. "... for love." It sounded heavy coming from his mouth.

"For love." You smiled, the word now as light as a butterfly. The knife tore through paper and you skimmed through the lines of words, a careful gaze watching you as you did so.

"...What do you think?"

"It's wonderful."

"I know what's on your mind."

You turned towards him now. Face to face. Mere inches separating your eyes. Eyes, wandering everywhere else except towards what laid in front of them.

You tried to lay your hands around his neck. You tried, really. But the look in his eyes already denied you before you even started.

His hands quickly reached for your lowering wrists.

"Give me a moment, I beg of you." He whispered, shaking.

His lips indecisevly hovered above your lips, then your neck, your nose, your cheek. You closed your eyes firmly, only opening them once you felt comforting warmth on your jaw. He pulled back, leaving a translucent string of saliva as he parted.

"I know it wasn't as magical as you expected it to be. I'm sorry, ____ ."

"We barely even started, Orpheus."

He tried to object, to bury himself again, but before the words could slip from his mouth, your lips shut him up. And so, in a mere moment, the unspoken words did not matter anymore.

#identity v #idv #idv headcanons #identity v headcanons #idv imagines #idv fanfic #idv scenarios #idv x reader #identity v x reader #identity v x you #novelist idv #idv novelist #identity v novelist #novelist identity v #orpheus idv #idv orpheus #identity v orpheus #orpheus deross #idv oneshot

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ithaquasbbg · 4 months

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Hi :))) I think I’ll do some more general Headcanons since those did shockingly really well lolll- just a reminder that requests are open! I have a few I need to get to, but I appreciate hearing from everyone.

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Norton Campbell | Prospector / “Fools gold” General relationship Headcanons

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(That title is certainly a lot to read..)

Tw : mentions of nightmares, possessive behavior.

Extra : Some things can be read in a kind of suggestive tone?? That was on accident lol but I left it because it is true 💀I’ve recently been really into Norton and felt like dumping my personal Headcanons here.

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|🩷| Norton has a tendency to be a hot and cold type of lover. One moment he can be his normal self, and the next he’s mad at the world and pushing himself away from you.

|🩷| Of course, he’ll make up for those moments when he isolates himself, or at least attempt to. With Norton, you need to be patient and show him that he won’t scare you away.

|🩷| In his normal form he can be slightly possessive but wouldn’t act out on it too much if at all. He’ll exchange harsh glares with the person he suspects has any intentions of either stealing you from him, or of harming you.

|🩷| As fools gold though… he’s much more willing to get involved and use physical measures to keep others from messing around with you. Though he is quite intimidating, so his typical glares would likely do the trick most of the time

|🩷| In either form, he’s incredibly protective of you and couldn’t imagine what would happen if you were to get seriously hurt. How they would react is different, with nortons normal self hyperfixating on your health and getting you better. His other side however would likely take care of you first, but there’s no question the person who hurt you would be roughed up quite badly.

|🩷| In terms of physical preferences in his partners- I don’t see Norton as somebody who would be terribly picky. Though, if there was one thing he would have a preference for, it would probably be eyes. If they’re striking, they’ve caught his attention.

|🩷| When it comes to his love language in a receiving type of way, he’d likely be most comfortable with words of affirmation. Reassurance that you still love him despite all his imperfections is something that comforts him and makes him swoon all the more at the same time.

|🩷| In terms of giving, Norton would be super interested in physical touch, even if it’s small. Part of it is reassurance for himself that you’re with him, but another part is the rush he feels when he gets to hold you. Things like hand holding are present almost all the time, sometimes in a more possessive type of way.

|🩷| When it comes to PDA- Norton isn’t the most reserved in the manor but he’s also not the most showy. It depends on his state day to day just how showy he is, but usually it only includes hand holding and an occasional quick kiss or two

|🩷| Big. Spoon. He loves holding you close to him and knowing that you’re safe in his arms. (And In a sense.. he likely also enjoys knowing that he’s the one in control while he’s holding you ☺️)

|🩷| His favorite nickname for you is just a simple “Babe”, or sometimes if he’s feeling generous.. “Baby”

|🩷| When you call him things like Handsome, Love, ect, he’d probably take a slight ego boost from it. Expect for him to ask you to repeat it. “Just to make sure” he didn’t mishear what you said. But we all know he just wants to hear you call him Handsome again.

|🩷| Things like “Sweetheart” or returning the “Baby” nickname would probably get him blushing and a little embarrassed, those are his names for you, not the other way around! Though despite his attitude towards being called these nicknames, he does love to hear you call him all these sweet things.

|🩷| If he has extra clothing to give you, he’d absolutely give you all of it. Seeing you in his clothing gives Norton such a rush that he cannot explain. On this same note, if he could fit into your clothing I doubt he’d be willing to wear it, he prefers to be giving things even if he cannot really afford to buy gifts.

|🩷| Norton does suffer from frequent nightmares remembering his life from before he came to the manor. He tries to hide his weaknesses from everyone, including you, though occasionally his facade slips and he breaks. Just allowing him to cry and hold you as tight as he can is usually greatly appreciated, though he will be embarrassed about the crying part later.

|🩷| He’s not the best at comforting others, but if you had a rough day or two, Norton would definitely try his best to cheer you up at least a little bit. Things like attempting to cook your favorite meal, showering you with extra love and compliments. No matter what headspace he’s in, Norton will always try his best to get a smile on your face. You matter more to him than anything else at the end of the day, and he’ll make sure to protect you.

#idv fandom #idv fanfic #idv headcanons #idv imagines #idv x reader #idv scenarios #idv matchup #norton idv #idv norton #identity v norton #idv fools gold #fools gold idv #fools gold #prospector idv #idv prospector

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ithaquakisser · 1 year

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Look Only At Me

Synopsis; Your eyes are his and only his. Why must you look someone else's way?

CW; Unhealthy relationship, obsession, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, suggestive themes, slight NSFW

MINORS DNI. (18+)

WC; ≈1.2K

Note; I was going through it writing this because I literally made myself blush— 😭 I had a lot of fun writing this though, that's for sure! I noticed "Desire" received so many notes so I decided to write something similar to it. I have to admit I am a bit embarrassed since this was a bit self-indulgent... But I hope you guys enjoy! 🫶 (This was written at 3am...)

Ithaqua gravely detested you. Your presence brought about such profound feelings of resentment in his heart. Such utter feelings of indignation must be buried in silence. Let the wind cry and roar in spite of your presence whilst you turn a blind eye to his misery. Must you pull at his heartstrings each time you part your lips to speak? Must you leave him in dismay every moment your eyes avert from his?

What shall he do to put an end to such torment? What could remedy such agony? You were akin to a dove, oh so pure, so lovely, oh so naive. You dared not turn his way. You were a mere dove, one that he wishes to sink his teeth into. One that he longs to maintain for his selfish desires. One that he yearns to pluck your beloved white feathers and leave you flightless. That way, you could never leave him.

You were a nuisance. You were nothing more but a burden to him. Yet, why must the wind cry upon your absence? He could never bring himself to understand such a thing. Must you cast him aside like worthless dross? Let your eyes wander, longing for something, someone more than him. Such a thought only churns feelings of displeasure. Ithaqua bit his lip in vexation, for he believed this was something he shan't ever let happen.

Your chest heaved sporadically whilst you panted. The distinctively tall hunter towered over you, his ice axe in hand as droplets of crimson met the snow beneath your feet. A flame ignited in his ember eyes as it locked with yours, he could hear his heart beating brutally in ire while he gazed upon your face of dismay. A sly leer on his face as he approached you. You took a step back, letting out a shaky gasp as you met the walls behind you.

Your teammates were nowhere to be seen or heard. In the distance, you could faintly hear cipher machines. The young male had dropped his ice axe behind him, hunching over slightly to meet your face. Raven hues fixated onto yours, he was abnormally close for comfort. “Ithaqua…?” You uttered breathily. With a menacing smile beneath his mask, he gripped your face, causing you to yelp.

“Y/N… Why must you torment me so? Do you hate me, Y/N?” Ithaqua spoke your name like a prayer, an incantation. “Why do you avoid me?” He interrogated with a scowl. “Are you… afraid of me, Y/N?” He lifted your chin to face him, his voice alone was enough to send shivers down your spine. “No… Of course not, Ithaqua.”

“Then… Why do you run from me, Y/N?” Ithaqua gripped your face tighter, his nails sinking lightly into your skin. Your heart fiercely pounded against your chest as he spoke. Snowflakes licked at your hair as scarlet beads spilled from your lips from your earlier encounter. “Tell me… Do I scare you?” He probed as he ran his thumb over your bloodied lips.

“Fear certainly wouldn’t look like this, now, would it…?” Leisurely, you reached your trembling hands towards his mask. You pulled it off, letting it drop to the snow beneath the two of you. A shade of scarlet red painted over his pale cheeks as his onyx eyes met yours, taken aback by your gesture. A faint cool breeze grazed against both of your skins as he leaned closer, releasing his grip on you.

Ithaqua intertwined his hands with yours instead, pinning them against the wall as he leaned toward the crook of your neck. “Don’t you run from me anymore.” He murmured, his hot breath against your skin. “I’m sorry…” You mumbled in response. “Must you always look someone else’s way?” He muttered.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” You repeated yourself like a broken record. You could not bear to upset him like this. “Then promise me one thing, Y/N.” “Yes, Ithaqua?” He leaned in close to your ear, his thumb caressing your hand as he whispered. -“Look only at me.”-

“Of course…” You obliged. “Good…” His lips curled into a small smile as he tenderly kissed your neck. You winced as he scraped his teeth against your bare neck, Ithaqua emitting a small chuckle in response. “Relax…” His warm tongue ran over your flesh, sinking his teeth into you as he sucked. You moaned as he trailed love bites down your neck, working himself down to your collarbone. You called out his name under your breath, lost in his touch.

You had flinched upon the sound of sirens wailing throughout the vicinity. “Ithaqua—” The hunter silenced you, placing a slender finger on your lips. “We’re not done yet.” Spoke the male as he raised your chin, his lips brushing against yours. You melted into the kiss, enveloping your arms around his waist.

Oh, how he gravely detested you. How you'd so easily succumb to him. How you'd still beam at him regardless of his actions. It all made him sick, sick to his stomach. Sick in ways he still didn't quite understand. Perhaps, his heart would find peace with you wrapped around his finger. Seeing it all come into play as you melted upon his touch. He wondered how far is it that you can go. How long is it before you break?

A hand intertwined with his, and another buried deep into his platinum waves. His soft lips were pressed against yours, your tongue dancing with his. Ithaqua's face was flushed with a ruby tint, burning against your skin. Small strands of hair brushed upon your warm cheeks, his body pressed against yours. He was greedy in every way, shape, and form. His touch demonstrates his burning desire, one that is everlasting.

His fingers trailed down your body, begging for more of your touch. He tasted the bitter, metallic taste of blood from your lips, a piece of work done by his own hands. He left you breathless, gasping for air, pleading for more. A thin strand of saliva connected you two, his touch lingering on your skin. The hunter dared not look at you, unable to comprehend the feelings churning inside of him.

How greatly he wanted to strike you down at that very moment. The very moment you laid your delicate eyes on him with such adoration. How dare you gaze upon him with great delicacy? How dare you stir these feelings in his heart? These were all words left unspoken as he reached a trembling hand towards you. Ithaqua's heart pounded frantically in his chest as you took his hand into yours. He wished he could run away, hide away from you, you who brings him torment.

You never cease to pull at his heartstrings like a lyre, and he despised you for it.

Warm rays of sunshine shone upon your face as you awoke in the manor once again. Disoriented you were, you had no recollection of the events that occurred subsequently. You trailed your fingers down your neck, the sound of wind ringing in your ears like chimes. Your cheeks were tinted a shade of carmine, and the series of events prior replayed in your mind ever so vividly. His lips on your cold neck, his fingers tracing stars into your skin. He had left you with a feeling you never felt before in your chest.

Yet, oh, how he detested you so.

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rmamadeusofthe80s · 1 year

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Man I wish I could read more Freddy Riley stuff here on tumblr. There is nothing 😭. I wish I could read the fanfic u did of him

Take care admin <3

Anon when i tell you this was a crazy surprise to see in my dms 😭

I honestly haven't worked on it in a long while, but i still have it all saved :"^)

I'll try and finish up the first part, then post it!

(Also, if you still play, good luck with this weeks essence!!)

#freddy riley #identity v #idv fanfic #anon ask #identity v fanfic #I'm so sorry i let you down!#idv lawyer #identity v lawyer #identity v x reader

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yourantag · 10 months

Text

Paper Stars (Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Posting this along with my intro since I feel bad for anyone that gets jebaited thinking I was uploading lol This was originally going to be more painful, but then I listened to Laufey's "I Wish You Love" and it got kinda better, kinda worse. Enjoy! Word count: 2.0k words Summary: You filled bottles and jars with stars of all shapes and sizes. Some were perfect, others a little wonky. Regardless of how they came out, you placed them in containers that decorate your room. No matter how long you stay in this dreadful place, these stars will remain proof of your hopes, dreams, and love. They'll remain even after you are long gone.

Even before you entered the manor, you had a habit of making paper stars. Your friends, ones you've long forgotten the names of yet remember warmly, had claimed that if you filled a jar with a thousand paper stars, you'd be granted a wish. You've long grown out of such beliefs, or so you claim, but you still make these delicate stars anyway. They give you comfort, if nothing else. However, the biggest contributor to your growing collection of stars was Ithaqua.

It wasn't that he was making too many. In fact, his claws tore the thin paper far too often for most of them to survive. The true reason was that, as foolish as it was, you had started hoping beyond all hope that, perhaps, if you made a thousand jars of a thousand paper stars, you would have a chance to be loved back by him.

Since a long time ago, since he first came to the manor, you had loved him. Your first few jars of stars could tell all about it. You'd write confessions and compliments, snippets of stories, anything and everything, onto tiny slips of paper. These would later be turned into paper stars, filling jar after jar in a mesmerizing mix of colors. In shades of pink, white, and purple, the stars grew and grew as years passed and your love stayed true.

Of course, as time tends to do, it changes you. The luster of love dulled to let you see Ithaqua as himself, and even then, you loved him. The way he'd lean on you when he was tired, the way his face scrunched up when he yawned, even the way he'd purposely annoy you by putting your favorite snacks on the tallest shelves. You loved him for his faults, and you loved him for his virtues. No matter what you learned about him, he was still perfect in your eyes.

Well, perhaps perfect isn't the right word. You know Ithaqua isn't innocent, you know he isn't completely good. He's vengeful, he's cunning, he's someone with more spite in his body than good in his soul. He is a hunter, deadly as a blade and cold as night. He laughs when he chases and he kills without mercy.

Even so, when Ithaqua holds you gently, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he wraps your wounds, murmuring apologies like prayers, you can't see him as a monster.

He isn't perfect, but he is Ithaqua. That is enough for you.

More time slips by like sand through your fingers, decades going by with seemingly no end. Your stars are not pink, white, and purple anymore, but red, orange, and green. Your love has grown a startling amount, resulting in a growing pile of star filled bottles and jars. They clutter your closet floor, taking up almost all the space inside. You think you may have made around six hundred or so, most likely more. Even so, you know there will be more, this time filled with daydreams and flustered hopes.

Your relationship with Ithaqua is closer than ever. He is your other half, your shadow, always there and ready to talk. You know him better than anyone else, just as he knows you. At this point, the whole manor is convinced you're dating each other in every way but in name. You flush whenever they say so, quickly saying you two are only friends.

"For now." They say.

'For now.' You think.

With how many years have passed, you'd think you would've gained the courage to confess to Ithaqua. Sadly, the heart is as cowardly as it is powerful. Your chest feels like it'll burst whenever you try to confess, lungs begging for air even without restrictions. Every time you try, anxiety rips the words away from you, causing you to fumble like an idiot in front of him.

It might have been a blessing that the words never had a chance to form.

Later, when you were coming to visit him on the hunter side, you heard him talking to someone. You weren't one to eavesdrop, respectful of others' privacy, but you couldn't help but listen when you heard your name come up.

"It's painfully obvious they love you. Why don't you just confess already?"

"I can't do that. Confessing to someone I can't love is not right."

At that moment, you felt your heart shatter.

That day, you stayed in your room. You wanted to cry, scream, break something, do anything, but as always, you could only do nothing. You were curled up on your bed, incapable of doing much other than wonder why. Why can't he love you? Why won't he love you? Why, why, why, why, why?

You had gotten overconfident, you guessed. With how Ithaqua treated you so differently from the rest, so lovingly, you had assumed he'd felt the same as you did. At the very least, you had hoped he'd have some romantic interest in you. Was it presumptuous? Was it arrogant? Was it wrong for you to have hoped that he would love you back after all these years? Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't. Regardless, the truth lay bare before your eyes now, and there was nothing you could do but accept it.

It took you a week to get out of your slump, leaving many worried. You couldn't bother to care, trying to reassure everyone quickly that you were fine despite having been broken not long ago. You had picked up the fragments of who you were and built yourself anew. Fragile, yet stronger than ever. You could only be glad the manor had been kind enough not to give you any matches during this time.

Time marches on, unrelenting as the push and pull of the waves. Your stars turned blue, black, and yellow, filled with wishful thinking and occasional pleads. Nine hundred and ninety-nine bottles and jars gathered within your room, filling your closet, shelves, and even the bottom of your bed. Even though you knew it was useless, that your love was unrequited and that Ithaqua would never love you, the heart is a cruel, stubborn little thing.

Your heart never gave up on Ithaqua, even though your mind had long acknowledged he'd never be yours.

You were fine with that. Ithaqua had no obligation to you, and it was wrong of you to believe he would love you. It was completely fine for you to love him, but it wasn't okay for you to expect him to love you in the same way. Such thoughts would only hurt you when hit with reality. You'd suffered through it once, you didn't need to do so again.

You continued being friends with him, acting completely normal. Nothing changed, but that was fine with you. Keeping what you had now was more than enough. You kept trying to convince yourself that was true, but it felt like thorns were wrapping around your heart, flowers blooming painfully between your ribs.

"You love him!" Your heart cries.

"But he doesn't love me." You whisper back.

Distance would be the only way to heal you, and the best opportunity for it drops right onto your desk. A letter, stamped and sealed just like the one that invited you to the manor. It tells you that you may leave, that your reward for participating in the game would be given and that you were free.

You rush out of your room to find your fellow survivors cheering, crying, hugging, and laughing. After so many years stuck in the manor, you were finally able to leave. You were finally getting your rewards.

It felt like a dream.

Happy beyond all reason, you run to the hunter's manor, finding that no celebrations were occurring. It quickly dawns on you that most of these people will not leave- couldn't. Most were dead, others were immortal, while some were people who simply couldn't be returned to society. Regardless, it seemed most of the hunters would never leave the manor, or would quietly fade away into the afterlife.

Ithaqua notices you from his corner of the room. He beckons you closer, so you walk towards him. Sitting yourself comfortably next to him, you explain the situation. He listens, humming occasionally as you show him the letter. Finally, he smiles.

"I'm happy for you."

It's simple, but sweet. You know he means it, but you kind of wish he didn't. After all, this had been your last hope, the last chance for him to show that he felt anything for you.

You set yourself up for disappointment once more, hoping for love that he would never give.

So, you smile, nod, and say you'll be packing your things. You ignore the tears that blur your vision, the looks of pity Mary and Joseph give you, running away with a smile on your face as if truly excited to leave.

You had hoped he'd ask you to stay.

You had hoped he'd at least say that you were important to him, even as just a friend.

Perhaps even that was too much to expect.

Your love is like the moon, brilliant, beautiful, and powerful. However, in the face of almost complete apathy, of the unending night that shrouds you, what could you do?

Luggage isn't too much of an issue for you, especially considering you never brought much to the manor and never bought much either. The only things left were your paper stars.

You held the last jar, the thousandth one. You had finally completed your goal. However, there was no wish you could think of for yourself. You gained your freedom, your reward from the manor, and now, gave up completely on Ithaqua. There was nothing you desired.

Turning to face your closet, your grip on the jar tightens. You see the thousands, millions of stars staring back at you, a galaxy of color, filled with so much love and joy. It's almost painful to see it all, the proof of your existence within this manor, the proof of your love, shoved in a closet and never to be seen again.

You turn to your desk, glancing at the other jars that decorate it. You can see the imperfections on some of the stars, one crinkled far too much, another far too big. You remember all the time and effort that went into them, the words you had written, the feelings that went through you as you made them. It washes over you like a wave, and you let it.

Then, finally, you smile.

"I wish him love."

He deserves it. He deserves to be loved selflessly, in a way you probably couldn't offer him. He deserves to be held when it's cold, tenderly cared for when sick, shared jokes with sincerity, and above all else, happy.

So, carrying your luggage bag and a smile, you meet Ithaqua at the hunters manor. You place the jar of paper stars in his hands, eyes full of adoration as you let him go in your heart.

"Farewell, Ithaqua. I'm glad to have met you. Thank you for letting me get to know you and love you. I will never forget you."

You squeeze his hands around the jar, the pain in your chest bittersweet. You let go, pulling back and waving as you leave. He watches for a long time, even after you've long left.

Eventually, he lets his legs give out from under him. He lets his heart ache as he opens the jar to let the stars fall into his hands. Ithaqua cradles them like they're the most precious things in the world, an irreplaceable treasure that was worth more than his life.

He lets his shoulders shake, curling in on himself as he sobs. Tears fall from his eyes as his heart rips itself apart, only getting worse as he sees writing on a star. He unravels it slowly, carefully, as if it'll tear with even the slightest bit of pressure. His efforts are for naught, as in the end, his tears wet the paper and destroy the writing, ink smudging as his efforts to return it to normal shred the thin paper. Still, he remembers vividly the words written on it. He'll feel it forever seared into his heart and soul.

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