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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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BRO DROPPED THE BEST ITHAQUA SMUT AND THOUGHT WE WOULDNT NOTICE ‼️‼️
One more! Take one more f'me.. Please?
Ithaqua x Afab!Reader
cw: Smut, Breeding kink, Coming inside (Multiple times), Mean(ish)!Dom Ithaqua, OOC Ithaqua, No specified pronouns, Called pretty, guys i rlly hate writing poem like so i didnt use that for ithaqua, Porn without plot, Overstim, Slut/Whore shaming, Mating press but it's prolly not obv el o el, Short😱😱
(i couldnt help but write another smut of him because he knows damn well what he was doing when he spreaded them legs open. not proofread btw)
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"Nnno moree.." You slurred over your words while Ithaqua continued to grind into you harshly. You don't know if you were going insane but he's been going at it for at least over thirty-five minutes..
He's came at least twice and you can't even keep track of how much you've made a mess all over him.
He's not very nice about it either. Calling you a slut and a whore for wanting him to breed you in his new outfit. Soft grunts leaving his mouth as he shuts his eyes that are currently covered by his mask.
"You're- Ahn- So disgusting for wanting me to give you a baby you in this outfit." He grinned, gripping your thighs that were currently over his shoulders oh so tightly.
Tears rolling down your face from the overstimulation. "Can't take it anymore? Aww~ Look at you.. You're so pretty when you cry." He cooed. "Don't you wanna be stuffed with my babies? Is that not what you wanted?" He asked in a soft tone.
At first, the thought of starting a family with Ithaqua wasn't horrible. You wondered what it would be like to have a child with him. (Also to be fucked by him in his new outfit) Unfortunately, it didn't end too well.. When you told him you'd like to start a family while he was in his new attire, he didn't even spare you. Not once.
Now here he is, stuffing you full of his fat cock, overstimulating your cute little cunt. "Feel good?" He asked. You whined and squirmed beneath him.
"Such a slut for my cock." He chuckled, grinder harder, closely watching your overstimulated face mold into pleasure.
"Ithaqua I'm g'nna-!" You came for the nth time. More tears rolling from your face. Pleasure overtaking you too much.
"Can't.. I can't.." You cried out. Him chasing his high. Loud pitched moans coming from your soft lips, arching your back from the immense pleasure.
He finally came, again.. Inside of you, hoping to fill you a little bit more with his cum.. Both of you breathing heavily as he came down from his high.
"Ithaqua-"
"One more! Take one more f'me.. Please?"
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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SO WELL WRITTEN 1000/10
Of Vices and Virtues (Morningstar!Ithaqua×Reader)
AN: In which I go insane and finally succumb to the urge to write an unhealthy relationship instead of a nice, safe, and sane one. Also, to the people who were waiting for this fic, I am so sorry for the wait. I kept on forgetting it existed and also kept doubting myself since this is pretty different from what I usually do. Hope you enjoy it, even if it isn't the best! Word count: 2.7k words TW: Blood, violence, general insanity, and unhealthy relationships. Summary: You've always seen things others couldn't. When you met him, you were enamored by his unique nature. Perhaps you should have taken it as a warning. Perhaps, you should have ran. Instead, you drew closer.
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It all started years ago when things were simpler. You were a child, and so was he. He was someone who bore the face of the future king, the Lord of Babel, the sun of the kingdom. You? You were just a simple peasant. No one noteworthy, not in appearance, personality, or skill. How could you be? You were a child.
Yet, when your paths crossed, it immediately changed you two. Your futures, your destinies which never should have merged, crashed together. The moment your eyes met his, it was over. You could never be normal again. After all, how could a mortal stay sane in the presence of a God?
He was your beginning, and surely he would be your end.
-
The lady who lived in the forest was odd, but kind. She would give you and your family medicine, never asking for anything in return. You didn't think that was very fair, so you gave her flowers. The prettiest ones you could find in the wild, hidden within the crevices of gnarled roots and heavy bushes.
You liked her quite well, which your parents found surprising. You never seemed to like most adults. They all brushed it off as shyness, laughing heartily as you scampered away.
It wasn't quite that, though.
The way you gazed at people with distrust was never on unfounded grounds. Children, for however random and silly adults believe them to be, are far too perceptive for their own goods.
You've always seen things others couldn't see. You knew not to tell, especially when the curling shadows at those peoples feet hissed and snarled silently. It was a warning, seething quietly around the liars with masks. You learned quickly that they were not people to be trusted.
The problem was, most adults held such secrets with them. Their perfect disguises of the kind neighbor and good samaritan were nothing before your eyes. Their performances of being righteous and pure sickened you. It churned your guts and set alight a blaze of fury inside you that you didn't understand.
You couldn't stand it, so you chose to run.
Thankfully, with her, it was never like that. She had the aura of what you think angels would have. It was warm, gentle, and bright, like a bonfire on a cold winter night. It made you feel comfortable, it made you feel safe. Honestly, you sometimes wished she were your mother so you could bask in her presence forever.
Of course, that is not the case, and you like your parents well. They had no roaring shadows, just a light brush of soothing sunlight. It was sweet and inoffensive, just a whisper of heat and kind words. That, too, you appreciated.
It was why you listened to them well, doing your best to be a good child for them. When they asked you for help, you were always up to the challenge. You'd smile brightly, determination glistening within your eyes and your heart set on fulfilling your mission.
Today was one such day, leading you to a cottage in the woods. Your parents requested that you gave the lady of the forest a package. The task felt more like a blessing than a burden. You got to help your parents and see one of your favorite people in the world! How could you not be happy?
Standing before the worn alder door, you carefully shift your bag as you knock. You rock back and forth, humming cheerfully as you wait for her to answer. The sounds of shuffling footsteps can be heard behind the door, making you smile.
When it opens, your smile slips as you stare blankly. Before your eyes stands not your favorite person in the world, but a child. He has wispy, light blond hair, so light it's white. His eyes are like charcoal, both dark and burning as he stares holes into you. It's half a glare and half a stare, more of a glare, really.
For a few moments, you're stunned. Not really at the fact that the lady had a child you never knew, but at the darkness and light that surround him in equal parts.
Children never had such prominent representations of good or evil on them, having been born with a neutral conscience. They were surrounded by barely flickering echoes of right and wrong, never quite lasting.
Yet, here he was, a child with both virtue and vice wrapped tightly around him. It intrigues you, beckoning you forward like a siren's call.
Before you know it, you've taken his face in your hands and tilted it to look closer. At what, you're not quite sure. All you do is drink in his features like a man starved, staring at him with such intensity you'd feel embarrassed if you were clear headed.
You expect him to fight back once you realize what you've done, but all he does is stare back with equal intensity, challenging you. It makes you smile, an odd feeling of pride and a desire to crush that will of his coming from the depths of your heart. It makes you pause in surprise, letting go of his face and stepping back.
"I'm sorry." You say, fiddling with the straps of your bag as you look away. It was rather unlike you to act this way, or to have such a violent thought. You shook your head to clear them of such things.
"Why are you here?" He asks harshly, ignoring your apology. You accept that considering you were quite rude to him.
"I'm here to deliver a package to the nice lady. Is she home?" You look over his shoulder for any hint of her. He blocks your view, his glare intensifying. He looks like he's about to say no when a familiar voice cuts him off.
"Ah! You shouldn't be here!"
You can't tell if she's referring to you or him. In a few minutes, she's taken you inside the house and given you snacks. The boy pouts as the lady of the forest scolds him, warning him not to open the door to strangers.
You chew on a cookie as you continue to stare at the warped shapes of his soul shift around him. It's warmer now, brighter. It's sentient and alive, happily glowing in the presence of the nice lady. You can't blame him, you like her a lot too.
At the same time, you can't help but wonder what it'll take for his shadows to devour the light.
You calmly give the lady the package and thank her for the snacks, brushing crumbs off your hands. She pats you, causing you to smile as you relish in the gentle touch. She tells you to come again, to play with her son. You don't think he'd like to, but you're willing to try.
With a wave and a smile, you're off. You ignore the no longer hostile stare that follows you out.
-
Seeing as you're no liar, you meet him again. You keep your promise to visit, and thus a tender friendship begins. The boy is surprisingly nice at times. He's simultaneously so ordinary, yet unusual.
He smiles when you trip, but he always helps you up. He hides your things, but always ends up telling you where they are. He says rather mean things, but his actions never match his words.
He's weird, but you like him. Unlike the others your age, he's quite interesting. The shared soft spot you both have for his mother certainly helps, and before you know it, you're friends.
"Why don't you ever leave the forest?" You ask one day, pulling weeds out of the garden. His mother's garden was in need of some help, so you decided to work on it with the boy. He diligently works, even though he hates the sunlight.
"Mother says I shouldn't be seen by others. You're okay, though." You accept the answer easily. You figured that was the case, anyway.
After the official debut of the future king, a prince around your age, you realized a lot more things than you thought you would. You're sure his mother knows you know, but neither of you mention it. For you, it's none of your business. For her, it's a secret she must take to her grave.
You're quite good at keeping secrets. You're sure she knows that, too. You also know her secrets will one day consume her whole, however. They always do.
You wonder how he'll react that day.
-
Ever since you met the lady of the forest, red became your favorite color. It's the color of her hair, of the ladybugs in her garden, and of the tiles on your house's roof. It's a sweet color, one of pure and good memories.
That changes the day you turn of age.
You watch in horror as she's brought before a cheering crowd, a spectacle for people to watch. He's next to you, his face covered and a cloak hiding his hair. His eyes shake as he stares at the cruel stage, the start of a scene he'd never want to see showing right before his eyes.
Her chains jingle like cruel church bells, hair a tangled mess as she's dragged across the crude boards of the stage. Splinters stab at her feet, fresh wounds and old ones bleeding red as she's roughly slammed into a wooden contraption. She gasps in pain as they lock it in place, the final Wham! of the wood marking the end of her judgment.
You both look on in stunned shock as the blade whistles down at the call of a man- a man who shares the same face as him. Time seems to slow as her eyes meet yours, silently, desperately, asking for help. Help you cannot give. Help you wish you could give.
Your heart screams as it is forced to face how powerless you are. It squeezes and squeezes as if someone were clutching it in their hand, hoping to inflict as much pain on you as possible while you are hopelessly, miserably left alive despite it.
The man's shadow laughs as the guillotine cuts off her life, destroying the warmth of her soul and putting it out. Like a lit candle in the wind, she's extinguished. She's gone.
The once comforting red of her hair is tainted by the ruthless sight of her blood painting the stage.
You vaguely think you hear something shatter, perhaps something inside of you or somewhere around you. You turn to look at him, your hands trembling, when you see it.
It seems to destroy light itself, yet hold it all the same. A black hole that displaces the refraction of light, like darkness that shines bright, it breaks free from the chains of what is perhaps the last of his humanity.
Perhaps it's the last of his sanity.
Glancing down at your own shadow, you laugh quietly as tears slip down your face. It's carried away by the cheers of the crowd and the deafening applause, going unheard. An unnatural smile stretches your face as you turn your head up to the sky.
If his darkness has light, your light holds darkness. With it, you'd both destroy everything that dared make you this way.
-
"I'll kill them, I'll kill them, I'll kill them." He's trembling in your arms, his body barely able to contain all his emotions. His rage, his sorrow, his pain, his tears, everything, it seems to pour out of him. You can only rub your hand comfortingly in circles on his back, eyes blank as you stare lifelessly at the wall.
He was suppressing himself as his feelings lashed out. You, however, were eerily empty.
You felt nothing, yet everything. It was like all your emotions had been tossed away, as though they'd never been there before. In its place, a cold, cruel rationality took over your mind. It plotted, it schemed, and it had only one goal.
To destroy.
"You will." You tell him. "We will."
It's a promise, and you don't break promises.
-
The sound of rumbling stones greets you in a familiar cacophony of noise. You revel in it, watching the statue's face fall and crumble. He stands before you now, so different from the sweet boy he was back then. That's partially your fault, admittedly.
You held him that day, when the world had fallen apart. You'd promised him justice, you promised him peace. You promised him the world and everything in it, because that was what he deserved. He deserved it so he could ruin it, since really, did anything matter anymore? When she was gone, she died, you'd never see her alive, you couldn't understand why-
You sighed, shivering as a cold breeze blew through the area. It doesn't matter now. You'd found your peace. You'd gotten your revenge.
Turning your gaze to the figure before the desecrated statue, you smile widely. He does the same, spreading out his arms as he laughs maniacally. He, too, had gained his vengeance.
"The tower shall fall, and new lies will be treated as the word of god. The morning star is the true king!" He sweeps the air in front of him, hand outstretched to you. You step forward, placing a hand in his. His grin seems to grow wider at that, his grip becoming more firm as he pulls you into his arms.
"And you, my evening dawn, will stand by my side. We'll rule the greedy, the disloyal, and the unworthy. The dogs in crowns will remain at our feet, and it will not matter who stands before us." He laughs as he bites your neck, hard enough to draw blood. You only laugh in return, the pain as sweet as the taste of power.
His hair, now pure white like the feathers on a dove, glows in the brilliant light of the sun. His eyes, once a beautifully deep onyx, are like translucent opal. The red you once grew to hate, tainted by blood, is made again your favorite color. It drapes him from head to toe in majesty, deeming him a true god amongst men.
He pulls you up into a kiss, his lips tasting of your blood and dust. The taste of your own blood upon your tongue makes you laugh. Anything is sweet when it comes from him, from his lips, even the underlying tastes of iron and danger, the possessive curling of his claws.
When you finally draw away from each other, your faces are flushed. You both pant lightly, giggling like school children as you hold each other close. His hold speaks of love, of desire, of a feeling so encapsulating, so damning, he'd rather kill you than let you leave his side.
His shadow says so much more.
It curls around your own, protecting it, stealing it, tugging and holding it like it wants to merge with yours. The darkness tries to devour your light, but it's only a pointless cycle where one cannot destroy the other. They're two sides of the same coin, cultivated into a writhing mass of what you're sure anyone else would claim to be insanity.
You hum in joy, resting your forehead against his chest. He needs you as desperately as you need him. He'll never leave you, and you could never leave him. No one could ever take you away from each other.
"You're all I have." He tenderly murmurs, dragging a claw down your spine. You shiver as you look up at him, smiling. "And I am all you have."
"I love you. Only two things will ever have me, and it'll be you and death." You respond, meaning every word. He knows as well as you do that you mean it, and he rewards you with another kiss. It's sweeter than the last, an addicting pull that makes you yearn for more. More and more and more, until you suffocate.
You'll treasure him for the rest of your life. He's your precious partner, isn't he? You should hold him close and treat him right. Isn't that what they taught you?
You smile, something akin to a nightmare, as you turn. He stands by your side as you saunter over to the gilded cage, the traitors shaking within.
"What do you think, mother, father?"
He was your beginning, and he will be your end.
.
.
.
Tag List
@ithaquakisser, @xiaosmary
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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- ͙۪۪̥˚┊ ❛ TIRED ❜
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genre: fluff / slight angst
ithaqua x gn! reader
synopsis: ithaqua had a rough match and you comfort him
wc: 519
note: this wasn't written very well but i haven't updated in 8 days, i'm so sorry! i also will be getting to your guys' requests asap <3
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Today, Ithaqua had a match that was unfortunately prolonged due to the survivor's decoding furiously and him having to disrupt them every chance he got. You knew Ithaqua well enough to know that this wasn't going to be easy for him. He had liked when matches were quick and easy, this was a total difference to what you'd both expected.
As you stayed in your bedroom to wait for Ithaqua's return, all you could really do while you waited for his arrival is hope that it wouldn't drain him too much, with the expectation that he'd be seriously worn out.
As you were lost in thought, a knock on the door was there to pull you back to reality from your thinking. You got up from the bed and opened the door, and Ithaqua was there looking like he could pass out at any moment.
"Ithaqua! You're back! Come on, let's get you into bed so you can rest." You said gently, gesturing towards the bed.
Ithaqua didn't exactly move, he just stared at you with a sad look on his face. As you took a look at his expression, you definitely knew something was wrong.
"What is the matter, my love?" You questioned him, taking his hand into yours.
"I failed. I failed to chair every one of them." He responded back then moving his head down, like he felt ashamed to tell you this. "I did so bad, Y/n. I'm so disappointed in myself."
You shook your head and pulled him into your embrace, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Ithaqua. You may think that if you don't succeed every time then you're a failure, but that's not true at all. You tried your best and I can tell. It's okay if you didn't manage to chair any of them, okay? You still tried and that's what matters the most." You pulled him towards the bed so he could lay down.
"I just..I just wish that I could've done better." He sighed. You rubbed his back a bit.
"Look, love. You've done so great in every single other of your matches, and I know that for a fact. All of the hunters have had bad matches, and yes they may have been upset about it but they can have good matches later on. I'm proud of you for being able to carry on with the full match and not surrendering. Try not to think about it too much, okay?" You told him. He processed your words and nodded. Ithaqua really looked like he needed some rest, which you were going to give him some space to do so.
Ithaqua then lied down in the bed, getting himself comfortable. As you were about to get up, you felt a hold on your wrist.
"Don't go." He said. "Rest with me, please?"
You nodded and got into bed with him, cuddling up against him. It didn't take very quickly for you two to fall asleep together. Now Ithaqua knows whenever he feels the slightest bit upset about a match, you'll be there to comfort him.
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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HIIIIIII :3
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HAIIII BUUUUUUN!!!!!!! 🐛 HOW ARE YOU??
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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Hey hope your doing well!
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Listen to what nahida says NOW
THANKS A LOT FOR CHECKING !! I will post soon (if I have the motivation…) so don’t worry!! ALSO NAHIDA’S COMMENT LASHHEJDXJS
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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Despite the Storm
Ithaqua/reader (but can kinda be viewed as platonic??)
A short little oneshot thing I wrote in a single afternoon. I haven’t written a reader insert for a long time oops,,,
Also posted on AO3 under a_bombyx_mori, link in notes
Keep reading
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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We have seen how Ithaqua fell in love with a Survivor Reader, but I raise this fluffy request!
He fell in love with the Hunter Reader during a Duo Match with them 👀
That's okay if you decline! Have a good day/evening/night/morning!
🌨️
oh, nice reverse, anon! hope you enjoy 🥺🙏 i'm gonna link the surv version too, hehe.
request; yes, and they're open. so send them in!
wc; 931.
tags; gn! hunter! reader, some romance, ithaqua comforts you, survivors bully hunters in duos (lots of flare guns-)
summary; you are partnered with ithaqua to be a hunter in today's duos match. after getting stunned, ithaqua may or may not show another side of himself...
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you honestly don’t want to do duos today.
normally, you don’t mind doing duos. in fact, the general chaos of the entire match keeps your mind occupied until the end, barring you from any negative thoughts.
but these days things don’t seem to be going your way. biting your lips, you try burying yourself more into the soft cushions of one of the red velvet chairs, situated behind a dark curtain that is intended to hide you from the eight survivors, whom you see chatting and whispering.
you can’t go against the manor owner though.
glancing next to you, you see a familiar navy-clad figure. his mask covers his face so you can’t see his expression, but you imagine he is either dozing off or lost in thought, what with his chin resting on his closed gloved fist.
you look outside the curtain’s opening to find eight people sitting behind a wide table, lathered with plates and cutlery. most of them are good at stunning: norton campbell, martha behamfil, and qi shiyi, to name a few.
“you seem nervous.”
you almost jump in your seat when you hear your partner, ithaqua’s voice.
“how did you know?”
i didn’t think he was looking at me…
ithaqua shrugs, keeping his tone nonchalant for the most part. “you’re not exactly the best at hiding what you’re feeling.” he lets out a small sigh, muffled by his mask. “it makes me worried.”
you widen your eyes ever so slightly. it’s the only indication of your surprise outside of you clenching your fists until your knuckles start losing their color.
averting your eyes, you respond softly, “you don’t have to worry. i’ve just been going through some things recently, and it just ended up piling up.”
ithaqua lets out a small hum upon hearing your words, but he doesn’t question you further. it is probably out of consideration, but a part of you also wishes he had pushed you to talk a little bit more.
instead, you two stay silent until a bell echoes throughout the room. “the match will now begin. all chosen parties will now be taken to lakeside village.”
this part is always the strangest - it’s as though some drug knocks you out, turning everything black, but then a couple minutes later, you regain consciousness only to find yourself in a completely different place, remote from the manor.
looking on your wrist, you find a watch with a blinking dot at the center. eventually another dot shows up in the eastward direction. it must be showing ithaqua’s location.
you wander around the village to different cipher machines, trying to follow the sounds of typing, shocks, and the tall shaking poles as decoding progresses.
eventually, a figure catches your eye - martha.
she seems to be the only one around the area near the empty pier next to the lake, but having done enough matches in the past, you have a feeling some of her teammates are on the top of the ship wreck nearby.
giving ithaqua a ping, you start chasing martha, who starts to grip the flare gun on her side. she is probably waiting when you get too near before using it, since she only gets one per match.
but then she leads you to some of her other teammates, and when her teammates see you, they aim flare guns at you - they must have bought them from the telephone stand.
everyone shoots at once, and while you are able to dodge a couple, several hit you, leaving you stunned in a thick pink smokescreen.
“damn it…” you mutter in between coughs, waving your hand to disperse the smoke. by the time it completely dissipates, none of the survivors are seen in the vicinity.
you are alone not even standing, still wallowing in the aftereffects of having been hit so many times. why did this have to happen today, of all days?
tears want to spill, but you refuse to cry. not in a match. instead, you can only look down at the ground, the grass shaded an almost teal color by the overcast skies.
“(y/n).”
when you hear your name, you whip your head around to find a white mask before you.
“ithaqua, sorry, i let my guard down…”
“why are you apologizing? weren’t they the ones who stunned you?” he extends a hand to you: a silent encouragement to not give up and keep going.
just as he does, though, a loud siren rings through the venue: the survivors had managed to decode seven machines to open the exit gates.
“should we just surrender?” you slowly stand back up on your feet as you look up at the sky, a bleak gray that looks as though it’s about to downpour rain at any moment now. “they’ve already decoded seven ciphers, and not one is eliminated.”
ithaqua seems to think about your words as he lowers his hand. you think he is about to leave you, but much to your surprise, he leans in and gently presses his forehead on yours. you can feel some strands of his soft hair on your forehead, and he is close enough that you can clearly hear his breathing.
“if anything happens,” he reassures, “i will protect you.” his voice is soft and gentle, much like the snow on a still night. “so trust me, okay?”
with him so close, it’s easy to forget about your previous suggestion.
right now, there is only you and him.
for a brief moment, this quiet world is all you know, and that alone is enough for you.
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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It took me hours to think but What if WHAHJA E Ithaqua X reader fic where the reader had a nightmare n he comforts or smth 😭
I don’t mind if it’s established relationship or friends to lovers or Can be interpreted platonic or romantic Btw! :3
Teehee⭐️
With You
CW; Asphyxiation, depictions of anxiety
I had a hard time writing this one because I was suddenly hit with writer's block. This is a short piece I hope this is okay! Enjoy! 🫶
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These endless nights of terror were everlasting.
You huffed and puffed as you sprinted down the seemingly everlasting halls of the manor. An ominous figure stalked after each step you took, leering through the halls. Its face appeared to be distorted, incomprehensible. Piercing silver orbs burnt into the back of your head, leering over you. Exuding feelings of disconcertment as it stared straight through you, long, slender arms reaching out to you as if it yearned for an embrace.
Your heart hammered vigorously against the confines of your ribcage as you panted heavily. You dare not look back. Not even once. The figure called out your name repeatedly, low groans emitting from it as it spoke your name like a chant. “...Y/N…” The tall silhouette croaked. You halted in your tracks, your heart skipping a beat, for you could not bring yourself to move a single limb.
Adrenaline coursed through your veins, your heartbeat battered rapidly in your ears. Your breathing became labored as your heart threatened to burst out of your chest. The willowy figure approached you and towered over your small frame. Its eyes peering into yours, lengthy and slender fingers enveloping your neck. Tears of dread streamed down your face as the figure sunk its nails into your throat. You cried for help, unable to utter a single word. You gasped for air, struggling under the grasp of the towering silhouette.
You tightly squeezed your eyes shut whilst you wept, the inky silhouette pressed down onto your throat and tightened its grasp. You choked out pitiful attempts of cries, struggling under its grip. “Help… Me…” You yawped, gasping for the slightest bit of air. Hot tears spilled from the corners of your eyes and you pleaded. Slim fingers tightly wrapped around your throat only grew tighter with each passing moment, you cried and begged pathetically.
You awoke with a gasp to a sweet, gentle nudge and the serene voice of your lover. With a hand on your chest, you panted. Your flushed face was soaked with salty teardrops. Ithaqua tenderly wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb as you sobbed. “Y/N… breathe.” He whispered as he sat beside you, offering his hand out to you.
You took in a deep breath as you hesitantly placed your hand over his, you fixed your e/c eyes on his next move. Gently, he ran his thumb over the palm of your hand. He traced miscellaneous symbols for a brief amount of time. With time, your breathing slowed. Your heart meeting with peace once more. His almond-shaped eyes locked with yours, his lips curling into a fond smile.
“Do you feel my touch?” Asked the hunter. You nodded in response as he traced hearts on your hand. “Good.” He murmured. “Your hands are cold…” You remarked. His face shone a faint scarlet hue upon your remark as he averted his eyes from yours. “I should be the one protesting. You woke me up after all.”
“How so?” “You kicked me. Twice.” He deadpanned. “S...Sorry…” You muttered, lowering your head in shame. Ithaqua placed a hand on your cheek and traced a line along your cheekbone, his eyes fixated on yours as he lifted your chin. “Don’t apologize.” “I disturbed you though…” “Don’t you fret. There is no need to. What matters is that you’re okay.” He reassured, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.
Both of your hands intertwined, his onyx eyes glistened under the moonlight as he proceeded to trace the stars on your palm. His soothing touch brought peace to your heart as you began to relax. “I too was tormented by night terrors when I was a child.” He spoke, lowering his gaze. “As a way to calm me down, mother would take my small hands into hers and caress them.”
"It'd... always calm me down. The moment she took my hands into hers, I felt at ease." His eyes linked with yours as he raised your hand to his lips, gently placing a kiss on your knuckle. "Your mother certainly is an angel." The hunter smiled sweetly as he held your hand in his. "She was... Definitely." He murmured. "How are you feeling?"
"A lot more at ease." You replied breathily. "I mustn't stay here for too long. I'm certain you'd be reprimanded for having me here." "The baron does not need to know. After all, it's merely one night." Ithaqua replied as he pulled you into a warm embrace. You melted into his touch and rested your head on his chest. The soothing sound of his heartbeat echoed into your ears, pounding in serenity against his chest under your presence.
"Would it be okay of me to stay the night?" You questioned, furrowing your eyebrows in worry. "There's no need to fret. You were planning to after all were you not? You had fallen asleep prior." You let out a sigh as you proceeded to wrap your arms around his waist. "I suppose you are right..."
"Will you be alright?" Inquired Ithaqua as he ran a hand through your hair, twirling a strand between his fingers. "With you here, I'll always be okay." The male beamed in response, lightly resting his chin on your head as he held you in his arms. Rays of moonlight shone upon the two of you as you slipped into slumber.
"Rest well, Y/N."
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
Text
☀️
request; yes, by anonymous. requests open!
wc; 1 015.
tags; morningstar! ithaqua, gn! survivor! reader, yandere vibes! ithaqua, canon-typical violence, obsessive and unhealthy behavior, toxic dynamic, it's morningstar y'all he may be pretty but he ain't a good person, reader also isn't the most stable, i wrote this in the span of 2 ✈️ flights.
summary; only he can destroy the sun in your heart. nobody else but him. and he wouldn't have it any other way.
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this is an unspoken contract, written in spilt blood.
a contract between you and him, both entrapped within the large, spiky gates that dares and threatens the world to find out just what is happening beyond.
it is a secret, known to none but you two.
oletus manor has over time forged you into someone you can no longer recognize. looking in the mirror is impossible without witnessing the empty shell standing before you, staring back at your dull eyes. even now you somehow have a distinct, sharp awareness that you had stepped through these gates with a wish in mind, but you have long forgotten what it was.
constant “games” twist your mind’s perceptions and play with your innermost fears and desires, and you have probably been spiked with some drug before, since sometimes your memories either feel overwhelmingly vivid enough to leave tingles on your skin for days or you have no recollection whatsoever. at times, your stomach feels like maggots are chewing inside - perhaps it’s an aftereffect.
over and over and over.
whenever someone gets injured, you don’t have the energy to care. at some point, the cuts and wounds that you originally noticed are no longer tended for.
your body, fully used to the pain, has grown completely numb.
you know that, and while fear slowly seeps into your heart upon that realization, you can’t bring yourself to care at this point.
everything is the same… until you find yourself before a face you don’t recognize. his silver braided hair contrasts with his black attire and an orangish red cape, and his axe is large, but he doesn’t seem to have trouble wielding it.
what stands out to you the most though is his mask. it only covers the upper half of his face, so you can see a wide smile that almost goes ear to ear, but his eyes are completely hidden by that black crown-like mask with a single faced sun in the center where his forehead is. chains surround it; it would surely give any normal person shivers down their spine.
everything about this person screams danger.
but you had twisted your ankle trying to turn on your heel and slam the pallet on him, so now you are rendered unable to move, sitting on the ground while holding your ankle and staring blankly up at that ominous mask.
“you,” he starts, his voice laced with a sweet poison that makes your palms sweat and your heart beat right out of your chest, “just tried to stun me, didn’t you?” he breaks the pallet like crushing a bug with those sharp stilts. “yet you couldn’t do it. how pathetic.”
even while calling you pathetic, he can’t conceal a sadistic giggle from escaping his lips.
“anyone would do the same,” you reply flatly, narrowing your eyes.
“really now? then care to tell me why everyone else trembles like a leaf in front of me? but whatever.” he lifts his axe, and you widen your eyes, half in fear and half in awe at his graceful motion and the way his axe gleams beneath the moonlight. “we can change that.”
you can’t avoid the blow. the blade of the axe digs into your skin near your shoulder. you feel the warmth of your own blood spilling from the wound, and that familiar dullness spreads around that area.
it’s a numbing type of pain. it’s not enough.
just then, an idea pops into your mind. it’s a crazy idea - certainly not one a normal person would even dream to ideate. but for days, perhaps months or years, any sense of normalcy has been robbed from you.
you grab the handle of the blade and push it in deeper. gradually, with more blood staining your clothes, the dull ache grew more sharp.
it is a more genuine, raw pain - a sensation you haven’t felt in such a long time. as strange as it sounds, it makes you feel alive for the first time in who knows how long.
you’re honestly relieved to know you still have some semblance of humanity left in you, but on the other hand, the axe-wielding hunter seems puzzled. that maniacal smile is replaced with a slight frown, from which you can sense confused curiosity.
“deeper,” you say, “aren’t you going to make me tremble before you ‘like a leaf’? if so, then push it in deeper.”
at first, the hunter seems to be contemplating something, completely still as if he is a statue. then his lips stretch into a grin. he complies with your request, digging his axe in until you wince and tears start to sting your eyes before he withdraws it.
through your tear-blurred vision, you can make out the hunter’s sick glee.
if it’s him… if he has that smile on his face, then i don’t mind.
your head starts to spin as you try to stand while putting most of your weight on the ankle that’s not twisted. the hunter takes hold of one of your shoulders with one hand and cups your cheek with the other, his claws digging into your skin in both places. he applies pressure to the wound though to help a little with the bleeding.
now that you that you can see him a lot closer, he looks very much like a normal boy. not really non-human in any way. you imagine under that mask of his is just a normal face you would be able to see down the street.
it is clear from your interactions, though, that he’s got one too many screws loose.
“let me break you,” he says, “let me destroy the sun in your heart, and then i’ll give you a new world.” his voice is gentle but deceptive, holding the poisonous allure of a demon.
you know that, but you are still drawn in hopelessly. “it can only be you,” you reply in between uneven breaths, “nobody else - only you.”
the hunter’s grin widens, and he leans in to whisper in your ear.
“i have a feeling we’ll get along very well.”
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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Since my close friend had a birthday and requested me to draw her favourite idv characters (Luca and Ithaqua) as yanderes I did a quick draw of them🚶‍♀️
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and I will be working on my requests I promise you guys I won’t die (i lied)
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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W. I. P.
Of a redraw scene from the new hunter essence :D
The colors are off and the hairstyle is wrong, but DAMMIT I COULDN'T HELP IT, had to make the hair fluffy
Anyways pls dont let this flop
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
Text
THIS IS SO SWEET
Embrace
CW; N/A
I've been going on a writing spree as of lately, I just have so many ideas at the moment. Most of which I am unsure of how to execute haha. Enjoy this short hurt/comfort piece in the meantime! I have to admit this isn't my favorite.. 🙈
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Snowflakes lightly kissed your warm cheeks under clouded ebony skies. Wind grazed upon your soft skin as you witnessed December come to be. A fine blanket of snow engulfed the manor into a beautiful winter landscape before you. Red, white, yellow, and pink roses blanketed by a thin sheet of white. Winter has fallen upon Oletus Manor at last.
A gentle breeze blew past your h/c locks, a slender hand brushing against yours. You turned your head to face the hunter beside you, whose eyes shone like stars as he gaped at the night sky. He gazed upon the inky skies with childlike wonder, beaming from ear to ear. Ithaqua held his mask in his hand, raven hues fixed on the snowflakes falling before him. “Ithaqua?”
“The night sky is beautiful tonight.” He remarked. “Did you come to witness the first snow as well?” Ithaqua spoke, turning his head to you. Silver and wavy locks moved with the wind, he appeared ethereal in your eyes. You nodded in response, your lips curling into a small smile.
The roaring wind filled the tranquil silence as you beheld the falling snowflakes, serene gusts of wind blowing between the two of you. You shivered upon the cool breeze brushing against your skin, clasping your hands together for warmth. “Are you cold?” He questioned. Silently, you nodded. Without another word, the hunter removed his cloak and draped it over your shoulders.
“You know… On freezing winter nights, my mother would muffle me in a warm blanket. She’d embrace me into her arms as she told me stories.” Your heart skipped a heart upon such a gesture, his eyes locking with yours for a brief moment. The young man instantly averted his gaze from yours, his pale face shone a faint crimson hue whilst he enveloped his fur cloak around you.
“Your mother sounds lovely.” “She certainly was.” He spoke with a sigh. You tenderly placed a hand on his cheek, gently caressing him with your thumb as you smiled fondly at him. “Don’t blame yourself.” You whispered. “How could I not?”
“Your mother loves you very much. You are not to blame for the circumstances. That woman, deep down, is still the woman who has loved and cared for you throughout your life.” Silently, he placed a hand above yours and leaned into your touch. He gently took your hand into his, his soft lips planting a kiss on your knuckle.
“Y/N…” Ithaqua murmured. “Yes, Ithaqua?” He buried his face into the crook of your neck, your hand intertwined with his. “I love you.” With your other hand, you ran it through his soft white locks. “I love you too.” “Y/N?” A thumb lightly caressed the palm of your hand. “Yes?” “You… don’t think I’m a bad person, do you?” Ithaqua inquired, his voice wavering as he spoke. “Of course not, Ithaqua.”
“You’re too kind to me, Y/N.” He mumbled. “I am simply speaking the truth. You are not to blame.” You stated, soothingly petting his head. In response, Ithaqua leaned in closer. “How can you be sure that I am not?” He questioned. “Because, if you were, I certainly wouldn’t be holding you like this, silly.” You chuckled as you lightly scratched at his scalp.
“Then… Can we stay like this… a bit longer?” Inquired Ithaqua. You held him closer. “Certainly.”
It seemed you were no longer cold, yet you couldn’t bear to let go. You embraced him in your arms as the snow fell. Nothing but the star-filled sky above the two of you and the wind’s serenade. If only the two of you could stay like this forever, your heart would certainly find peace under his presence.
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
Note
Hi!
First of all i love your Ithaqua stories and head canons. Unfortunately, since Ithaqua is a new Hunter, I can't really find stories with him.
But here is my request for you. I really want to see like a Ithaqua x reader story. I was thinking maybe the story can be about the reader is a survivor and like they meet in a match and fall in love or something like that 😅
Thank you for reading this little message. And you don't have to write this request if you don't want to.
💕
aw, thank you so much, anon! i really really appreciate that you like what i write 🥹 lemme know what you think!
request; yes, and they're open! especially ithaqua ones. please gimme them 🥺🤲
wc; 733.
tags; a tiny bit of violence? first meeting, some romantic hints, gn survivor! reader, literal midnight writing 😳
summary; you run into a new hunter who goes by ithaqua during a match, and he invites you to play a small game...
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whenever someone enters oletus manor, rumors spread like wildfire.
you’ve heard all about it from your fellow survivors.
how there is a new hunter who carries with him strong gusts of wind that could make the snow dance to his will. a masked and hooded hunter who stood on high blade-like stilts. an axe wielder with a single lantern that glowed blue and yellow as if under a spell.
at first, you were not all that interested. at this point, you have been stuck in this manor doing spontaneous matches for an owner whose face you never saw before.
things were starting to get a bit dull.
that is... until today.
“don’t rescue me!” your teammate shouts, tied securely the tall red chair. “go for the tie!”
you want to win, but you see the navy-clad hunter near the chair, looking at you with his head tilted, as if trying to read what move you will make and when.
eventually, after your teammate’s chair starts spinning faster and faster until it flies into the sky, leaving you completely alone with the hunter.
“are you just going to stand there?” the hunter asks. his voice, contrary to his intimidating appearance, is rather light, laced with some curiosity. “if that’s the case, how about we play a little game?”
you pause for a second before responding cautiously, “...what game?”
“a game of tag,” he replies, “i’ll give a 10 second head start. if you don’t get caught by me before reaching the dungeon, you’re free to escape. otherwise, i’ll do the same as i did to your teammate.” with his weapon, the hunter gestures to the now ashen spot on the ground where the chair had unceremoniously flown off. the lantern hangs on the edge below the blade, so it dangles hypnotically back and forth as he swings it. “how about it?”
at the very least, i can snag a tie.
“alright,” you said after some thought, “deal.”
laughter echoes through the map as you run. the hunter keeps his promise, giving you a full 10 seconds before pursuing you.
there are times as you’re running when you feel your breath being cut short by strong wind pulling you in. sometimes, you slam into a wall, and while the impact hurt, it helps you keep distance. this game of tag continues on with you running him, occasionally playing some mind games to get yourself out of a pinch.
eventually it hits you like a gust that this chase is interesting.
it’s fun.
such fun can only last so long, though, as the hunter hits you from behind, causing you to stumble forward and collapse. your body is aching from running, bumping into walls, and now from being hit, but nonetheless you muster energy to try and struggle when he ties you to a balloon.
oh god, i’m going to be chaired...
thinking about how the chair’s spinning gives you nausea gives more drive to struggle free.
much to your surprise, though, he takes you to the dungeon and pops the balloons, causing you to fall to the ground with a thud.
“you... you’re letting me go?”
the hunter tilts his head again - it reminds you of a cat somewhat - as he replies, “you played the game well, so why not?”
you crawl toward the dungeon’s dark entrance as you half-jokingly replied, “not one to keep promises, are you?”
“normally i would chair you, but take this as an acknowledgement.” his tone matches your own.
you have a feeling you are going to run into him a lot from now on.
inside of matches... and outside of them too.
of course, you don’t know that for sure. it’s just a strange, inexplicable feeling tugging on your chest.
you are about to jump down to the dark depths of the dungeon that is linked back to the manor, but before you do, you turn back. the tugging in your chest grows stronger, feeling like a stretched rubber band, every step you move away from him.
“can you tell me your name?” you ask.
the hunter chuckles, index finger over where his lips are under his mask like sharing a secret. “just call me ithaqua.”
that mysterious taut sensation in your chest seems to subside the moment you hear his name, and with a small smile playing on your lips, you jump, your surroundings turning dark.
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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Omg yall…. 🚶‍♀️🔥
Hot tradition with a cold boy.
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warning: without a plot, mistakes because english is not my native language, not quite canon because i never figured out what his personality is, but i really want to kiss him
also one ithaqua once in a match pinned me in the wall and did not let me pass for almost 3 MINUTES while my teammates were standing in the basement;
His hands are everywhere. In your hair, held by the waist, even if it is not necessary, on your hips, pressing circles into the soft skin, intertwined with your palms. Everything he can grab onto while his lips greedily dig into yours, not giving you a chance to take a breath or at least calm your heart after a hard chase.
He is demanding, moves his lips, bites, his tongue is always the first to slide between your lips, slowly and without words forcing you to open your mouth, letting him in. He knows what he's doing and he knows you like it. Even if his own cheeks are burning with embarrassment, and his body is languishing from an unknown feeling, he always does it so skillfully with you, making your breath come off in a couple of seconds, and your legs tremble.
This tradition came to you by chance and completely unexpectedly. That day you had almost finished the last cipher when all the sounds of the chase died down, leaving you alone with the buzzing of the typewriter. The difficult match against the new hunter was coming to an end, because there was only one cipher left, which you were just working on. Your hands were typing rapidly, typing the sequence, hardly noticing anything around, until your body suddenly shuddered from the cold and the frosty wind pulled you to the hunter, leaving almost no chance to grab something, at the same second forcing you to suffocate from your own hair and pain when the icy blade of the ice drill plunges into your flesh, knocking you down.
What the hell your teammates were doing at that time and where the fuck they are when you need them so badly is unknown, but you knew that you were finished. This is the third time you've become chairman, the third time you've screwed up again. A quiet, almost girly giggle of a hunter - and here you are in the air, limply and pitifully waiting for your exclusion from the match, when suddenly instead of a chair you find yourself on a dirty cot, firmly pressing your ass to its dusty, rusty surface. His weapon rings loudly in your ear as Ithaqua leans on it, squeezing his hips between your legs, unnaturally hunched to be at the level of your face. The hunter's sky-blue eyes eagerly dig into yours, intently watching the reaction, while his fingers nervously draw circles on your skin. Excited? Why?
— You're too angry, you don't let me chase you, you constantly run away to these incomprehensible things, not letting us be alone. - Boy dramatically sighs, pouting his lips, but the mask and thick fur on his hood carefully suppresses any sounds, turning everything into a rustle when you raise your eyebrows in surprise, and fear is changed by misunderstanding. — It's my turn to play!
You open your mouth to object, or at least to clarify what he means at all, as his hands brazenly rest against you, almost bending over with his whole body to briefly kiss you on the cheek, and poking the sharp edge of his half-hidden mask right into your nose and eye, demonstrating this strange affection. which came from him out of nowhere. Your confusion and inaction seem to give him a reason and permission to act further when the guy's dry lips are completely chaotically showering your face with kisses, completely childish and almost cute, but only until he gets to your lips with burning eyes, turning this situation into something that you share in each match strictly with the priming machine.
Someday your comrades will guess why after every match with the Night Watch it is you who get the MVP, and not them, regardless of what they did in this match, but let's hope not now.
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
Text
Love
CW; Unhealthy relationship, obsession, emotional manipulation, vague depictions of blood & violence, yandere relationship
This was a requested by a lovely follower. I was experimenting with another take on Ithaqua, it was certainly a fun writing exercise. I went through a rollercoaster of emotions writing this for sure! This was a rather short piece but I hope you enjoy anyway! 🫶
Disclaimer; I am not romanticizing toxic or unhealthy relationships in any way. This is merely a work of fiction and nothing else more.
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Love, an intense feeling of deep affection for another. Although, what is the true definition of love? Is it whispering sweet-nothings on a cold winter’s day? Or is it holding their hand in yours whilst you both lay? He sets your mind in disarray and when he kisses you, he leaves you in dismay.
Your heart flutters upon hearing him calling out your name as he takes you into an embrace. Platinum waves brushed against your rosy cheeks as his lips met yours. Cold, slender hands taken into your warm ones. Ebony hues fixed onto yours. This is love, isn’t it?
How you’d do anything for this moment to last. For him to look at you with light in his eyes, to caress your skin ever so tenderly under the moonlight whilst snowflakes kissed your cheeks. The cool breeze blowing through h/c and silver locks. Both of your hands intertwined. You could only ponder.. this is love, right?
You’d find yourself on your knees, pleading for forgiveness with tears at the corners of your e/c eyes. Ithaqua would grip your face, digging his sharp nails into your skin as he glowered. “Do you think I’ve gone too far, Y/N?” Questioned Ithaqua, observing as pearls of crimson seeped from your scarlet cheeks.
His gaze softened upon witnessing your face of distress. “Answer me, Y/N..” He demanded. “No... Not at all..” You uttered, wincing as he tightened his grip on you. “Liar.” Ithaqua scowled. This is love, right?
He had let go of you the moment tears began to pour. Each time you cried, he too, wept. “I apologize, Y/N... I did not intend to hurt you.” Ithaqua cooed, leisurely removing his mask as he ran a hand through your hair. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, despite having tears in your eyes.
“I’m sorry… I’m not any different from him am I?” He spoke, lowering his gaze. Platinum strands of hair draped over his dark eyes. As always, you’d find yourself beside him, consoling him. “You hate me… Don’t you?” Ithaqua mumbled. “I know you do… You’d gouge out my eyes if you could. You’d dispose of me if you had the chance to.”
“Of course not… I would never leave you, Ithaqua.” You’d frequently whisper sweet words of emptiness to him; words that in the end, meant nothing. When will you ever realize you’ve fallen for Judas himself? When will you face the truth itself? Until it is too late, is when you’d realize. You’d realize you’ve fallen for a demon who was barely even human.
He could run a sharp blade down your back, and watch as the crimson spilled. Yet you’d still cry for him. He could gouge out your eyes and leave you blind, yet you’d find yourself eagerly reaching out a hand each time. He could shout at you words of bitterness, and you’d still say “I love you.”
“I love you.” Three words you didn’t quite understand yet you had a feeling this is what love meant. Love to you meant; devoting oneself to another, even if it meant sacrificing it all. Hands intertwined, you’d caress his tear-stained face. You’d console him, even if it pained you to do so. Even if the sword were to cut you deep, you’d find yourself by his side, uttering his name.
If it meant gazing upon his beaming smile once more, you’d take a bite out of the red apple to see his beloved face. You’d kneel at his feet during matches, carmine pouring from your side as you grinned from ear to ear. All of your friends were eliminated relentlessly, and only you remained. Clutching at your wound, maroon droplets threaten to spill from your lips whilst your e/c eyes met his. He’d remove his mask and tenderly plant a kiss on your bloodied lips, whispering an apology under his breath. This is love, is it not?
Three words you didn’t quite understand yet you oh so desperately wished to hear from his lips. Words you’d wish to engrave into your mind the moment you hear it from him, and him alone. You’d plead, beg, and entreat to hear his voice speak those three words. You longed to hear his voice speak out your name, speaking those three empty words whilst you relished in his presence. You yearned for his touch, his embrace, his gaze. If it meant acting like a fool, you’d do so for him.
Acts of service, proclamation, and dedication, are all which you offer to him. Yet, your love seemingly falls to blind eyes and deaf ears. Yet somehow, he still wishes for you to reach out to him. For you to call out his name, even if it caused you pain to do so. In the most selfish way possible, you belonged to him and him alone. You dare not look another person’s way. You dare not even speak another person’s name. Still, you ponder once more, this is love, is it not?
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
Text
FCKJN FINALLY I WAS STARVING I HAVENT EATEN SUCH A GOOD FOOD IN A LONG AZZ TIME THANK YOU SO MUCH🙏🙏🙏
Pretty Boy Ithaqua x GN Reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut
facesitting, dom itha
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"Itha, your eyes are so pretty" you whispered, cupping his face. He meets your adoration-filled gaze, his blue orbs piercing into your own. His eyes are unreadable yet soft as he leans into your touch, you warmth comforting him just as it always did.
"I think you're much prettier" he responds, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. You smiled, leaning towards him, "No! you're much prettier," you disagreed. Before he could utter a word, you began peppering kisses all over his face. Startled by the sudden shower of affection, his mouth is left parted slightly, unable to voice out a word.
"You," you paused, pecking his forehead and backing off with a giggle—"are the prettiest" you whispered, kissing him on his lips. You part from him for a bit only to be pulled back in for more—it seemed that Itha wanted more.
The albino's red tinted cheeks felt warm in your palms, his cheeks shifting upwards as he smiles against your lips. "I doubt that I'm prettier than you" he mumbles against your lips. Breathless, you part with him, giggling slightly. "Silly boy, you are the prettiest" you grinned, rubbing your nose against his own affectionately.
Ithaqua shook his head, accepting your praise. He wonders if you'll ever get tired of calling him pretty.
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The answer was no.
Lusty hues of sapphire blue peered up at you, admiring your pleasured expression from between your thighs. "I, Itha" you whined, tugging on his soft locks. "S, So pretty for me" you slurred through your moans, giggling when his eyebrows furrow.
Where did your shy sweetheart go? there was no trace of him—there wasn't an inch of reserve in the man devouring your sensitive sex. Calloused hands gripped onto the plush of your hips, practically smothering the lower portion of his face.
"H, Honey, s, slow down!" you squealed, tugging on his soft locks; Ithaqua groaned, driven even further by your lewd noises and expressions.
"Mine, all mine" he murmured into your core, eyes drooping as he rested his tongue against your sensitive bits. "Mh, yes, all y, yours darling" you simpered, struggling to keep your breath even.
"Ithaaa, you're so, so pretty like this" you smiled, eyes forced shut as another wave of white crashed down on you. The way you moaned his name so loudly sent shivers down his spine—he wanted, no, he needed to hear more of your noises.
He lifts you off his face, laying you down on the bed gently. He licks up the remnants of your orgasm using his fingers, smirking at you whilst he does so. He nuzzles up against your inner thigh, resting his cheek against it.
"Did I do good?" he asks in a soft voice, peppering kisses all over the expanse of your inner thighs, avoiding the sensitive area between them in order to let you rest.
With a helpless smile you nod, "My pretty boy did an amazing job" you praised, petting him. He purred against your skin, ignoring the discomfort he felt down below, that could wait till after you recovered your energy.
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sandwichfordinner · 1 year
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I’ve got another naib x reader request dude I don’t wanna write for him LIKE THIS IS YALLS MAN? THIS?????/J
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I swear you people have to be more creative with the idv guys I don’t wanna see any of ‘Luca, Naib, Wu Chang, Norton’ AND MORE SAME REQUESTS I AM OUT OF IDEAS YOU GUYS. WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER BABYGIRLS?? KEVIN, JOSE, GANJI, ITHAQUA, EMIL, COMPOSER WHERE ARE THEY 👿👿 WHAT ABOUT ALL OF THE GIRLBOSSES TOO?!!?!?! /JJJJJ
But rn I don’t wanna write for naib cause I got like two requests about him pls dont be mad at me 😢😢😢
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