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#idv fanfic
heartshapedbubble · 3 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😭😭]
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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 · 2 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
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
Tw: none
Extra: he needs some chapstick. It will not feel good /j
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
|🩷| 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
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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
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♡ 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."
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fishermanshook · 2 months
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FALLING FOR YOU. (prospector x gn!reader)
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# day 1 of @philomena-propellente ‘s valentines event ! , grammar and spelling warning , you guys I’m turning into a Norton simp help me
INTRO
The longer you stay in the Oletus Manor, the more your Jo memory’s start to wilt away like a flower. This isn’t a personal issue though, as you’ve heard the hundreds of complaints from both Survivors and Hunters on their ever fading memory. After realizing this was a shared problem was when the panic started to arise.
The residents of the manor feared that one day they might lose their memory’s completely. Left only with the knowledge of the manor games and nothing else. Only now did people start to write in their forgotten journals that have been left to collect dust in their drawers. Nowadays, your forced to tread carefully around the manor in fear of stepping in a pool of ink or on one of the many broken quills that scatter the ground.
Unfortunately, the Prospector started later then the others. Therefore, he struggles to remember exactly when he started to fall for you.
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Maybe he started to fall for you when you shared your first match together. It’d been roughly a month since you sealed your fate by entering the manor, and by now you had grasped the rules of the game. Norton didn’t pay you any special attention, just that you were the newest Survivor and that was that. There was no need to be so easily captivated by the your presence, by the confidence that radiated off of you, by your smile.
He brushed it off as interest. Had he not just mentioned that you were new? This aura of yours would fade over time, and he would watch as your light dimmed by your one (1) year anniversary.
Once the match had started, Norton was spotted first by Sangria and was forced to kite until his legs would give out underneath him. He tried to buy enough time for his teammates to decode, but all it took was an ounce of cockiness and a terror shock for him to be knocked down. He was quickly thrown into a rocket chair before Sangria left to patrol the area.
Little did either of them know, you were hiding near his chair and quickly got him out. As Sangria came back to his chair, she was surprised to see you and him running away at full speed and taking on the task of kiting for the remainder of the match.
It was a four man victory.
Or maybe he started falling for you when he got REALLY injured. Like, bed-bound type of shit. An attempt to climb over Lakeside Villages boat ended with both his legs broken. His pain was so bad Ithqua surrendered on the spot and actually apologized after, that was just how bad his condition really was.
You learned from Naib, who directed you to go to Norton’s room if you wanted to see him. You arrived and to Norton you seemed like an Angel to him. Emily has been stuck in a match all day and he’s been dying of starvation, but thanks to you he’s feeling full again after some warm soup.
Emily didn’t even know you were doing this until he mentioned you the other day.
“Thank god. They’re amazing, aren’t they?” Emily asked him, not directly looking for a response.
All she got back was his red face and silence.
Maybe he finally realized he fell for you when you took it upon yourself to sub in for his matches when he was still sick. (Again…) Or maybe it was when you went back for him when the Hunter had detention, or maybe-
Or maybe he’s just been in love with you this entire time, and was just too foolish to realize it.
These thoughts and more occupy Norton’s head as he makes his way to your dorm room. He hopes that you’ll accept him and the flowers he’s brought along with him.
note: very dissatisfied in this fic 😞 happy valentines yall!
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(2024)©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform
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acosmicblizzard · 10 days
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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
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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.
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yourantag · 9 months
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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.
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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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bychilli · 2 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."
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nikfishstix · 10 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 · 3 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
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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
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rmamadeusofthe80s · 1 year
Note
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!!)
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stellari-s · 1 year
Text
🍨
request; kind of - a friend gave me a prompt "ice cream" and i wrote something based off of that. requests open!
wc; around 1 440.
tags; cozy vibes i think, x gn! doctor! reader, spontaneous pov changes, ⚰️ is a secondary character, 4am writing (you've been warned).
summary; you run into a boy named ithaqua and while giving him treatment, you give him some ice cream...
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to people who don’t know, the cold should be a sign. if it feels cold anywhere, it’s always a sign of something to come, for better or worse, just as pain lets the body know there was something wrong. it is the first sign of winter and a chilly calm before a blizzard.
some people are used to this cold, while others - any normal person would naturally want to shiver. if one shivers, there is no need for concern, but if one is simply used to constant coldness, then it’s like not feeling any pain at all, numbing to a lethal point.
footsteps imprint the pure white snow beneath, leading up to two silhouettes: one a hooded figure - you - and the other masked. you crouch beside the unconscious boy, who appears to be in his late teens or maybe early twenties, but looks are superficial and could only tell so much. you pull up the boy’s dark sleeves, enough to reveal a thin, pale wrist, before you gently pressed three fingers, enough to feel the thump, thump of the boy’s heartbeat.
it was slow - you have no clock to tell the time with, but you have dealt with enough patients to have a general feel for what a “low heart rate” is.
“how is it, (y/n)?”
another set of footsteps comes from behind. you withdraw your hands and turn around, your eyes meeting with ashy gray ones that would look lifeless to anyone who doesn’t know better. “he was probably in the cold too long. He’s unconscious but alive,” you reply, “would you mind helping me, aesop?”
in lieu of words, he only gives a slight nod, approaching you as you bring one of the boy’s arms around your shoulder, with aesop doing the same with the his other arm. with his weight equally distributed, your journey back to the small cabin where you two were residing quickly comes into sight.
there are people who want to cross the snowy area the two were just in. there is just one problem though.
in this area it is strikingly common to get ambushed. some cases, you and aesop could only find corpses lying in the snow, blood pooling from various areas, staining the white snow crimson, fingers gone blue long ago due to the cold. other times, you two managed to find those badly hurt but still alive. you were essentially being paid to treat anyone you could find who was injured.
this boy is strangely not hurt or ambushed, which had given aesop a bout of suspicion, but he understands you are a doctor - someone who cannot make choices on who is a patient and who is not due to their backgrounds.
back at the cabin, aesop makes a fire while you set the boy down on the small, simple bed.
you start treating him, just as you would any other person on any other day.
when ithaqua regained consciousness, the first thing he could see through his mask was a wooden ceiling, illuminated slightly by the fireplace nearby.
for several moments, he doesn’t move an inch, though he feels like a piece of toast that’s been cooking all day. when he turns his head to look beside him, it hits him like bricks.
there is someone beside him, but not someone he knows.
usually, it is mother who’s on the bed, chained up and unable to speak, with an inability to utter coherent words due to how despicable humans can get, but now he finds himself on the bed with a stranger leaning face down, forehead on arms.
that’s right, it’s humans like them who tried to hurt mother, the very same ones who tried to keep me away from her…
his thoughts whisper to him like an invisible demon as he walks out of bed. looking around, he can see his stilts and axe-like weapon propped up against the wall some ways away. he tries walking, but dizziness makes his head spin and his vision blurry, and he falls unceremoniously on the ground with a dull thud, loud enough to wake the stranger up.
with eyes are half-open, the stranger spends a few moments rubbing their eyes. “you’re awake,” they say, “i would advise against walking like that.”
ithaqua wants to make a quip back, but it’s hard to do so. his vision is still fluctuating a bit and his head is spinning too. he’s starting to feel a bit nauseous from the heat. “who are you?” he asks, his voice a bit robotic, unused to conversing with anyone other than mother.
“me? a humble doctor. my name is (y/n).” by this time, the doctor is fully awake as they stand. “i treat patients who get injured around this area. except you, that is.”
ithaqua tilts his head. “why would I be injured? i live around this area.”
“is that so? you’re quite brave then.”
“i have to be, or—”
he cuts himself off, realizing he was about to reveal information that the other does not need to know, nor do they seem that interested. in fact, it’s hard to read them at all. they wear a smile , but it’s neither cold nor warm.
ithaqua doesn’t know how to describe that in words though.
this time, it’s you tilting your head, but you choose not to question further, instead opting to ask, “your name?”
after a considerable pause, he replies, “just call me ithaqua.”
“that... is not your real name, is it?”
shaking his head, ithaqua stands back up. you reach to try and help him but are stopped abruptly when a claw, probably an extension of the glove he’s wearing, swipes dangerously close to your throat. “don’t touch me!” he shouts, his body trembling with what you feel is fiery anger.
at first, you stare back at him with wide eyes.
it’s the first time he has seen you with any other expression.
you quickly closes your eyes and take in a deep breath. when you opens them once again, your expression is back to that unreadable one ithaqua is most familiar with. “alright, then, i won’t touch you. let me at least get you something though.”
you back away to the table, where there’s a wooden bucket. atop of it is a type of spinner.
it doesn’t look dangerous, but it’s something ithaqua has not seen before, so he can’t help but feel suspicious nonetheless.
you remove the top part before grabbing a spoon and scooping something in a bowl.
it looks white, just like the snow outside.
when you are back beside his side, you hold out the bowl. “i’m not sure why you’re angry,” you say, “and i’m sure it’s none of my business, too, but maybe this can help calm you down a little.”
ithaqua raises a brow, but he accepts the bowl anyway. they seem really good at picking up on feelings...
the bowl feels cold to the touch, which surprises him a bit, but he doesn’t complain. the heat feels dizzying to him, so he simply eats what’s in the bowl without comment.
he was expecting it to taste like ice, but when a mildly sweet flavor hits his tongue, his face lights up behind the mask.
it’s like this little bite alone is threatening to freeze every feeling of anger and suspicion in his body and replace it with a cold sense of bliss.
but a little bite can only freeze for so long.
so he takes another bite, and another. he keeps taking small bites even when his tongue is numb from the coldness until the bowl is empty.
if this doctor isn’t here, will i never be able to eat this again?
when the bowl is gone, an idea pops into his mind.
if i bring this to mother, will she be happy too?
it’s worth a try. he is willing to do anything for her.
“i’m glad you seem to really like it,” you say from behind, breaking ithaqua out of his thoughts.
he turns back to you upon hearing your voice, holding the bowl out. “seconds,” he says, then adds as an afternote following a brief pause, “...and one more bowl.”
though the last part of his request comes out as a soft whisper, it’s not lost to your ears.
stifling a chuckle with your closed hand covering a part of your lips, you take the bowl from ithaqua’s hands while responding in turn: “as you wish.”
you are about to head to the table, but remembering something then and there, you turn back. “by the way, this is called ice cream, a cold sweet. if you ever find yourself wanting some more, you will always be welcome here.”
with that, you head over to the table, grabbing two disposable bowls from the shelf.
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heartshapedbubble · 5 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📕
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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.
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ithaquasbbg · 3 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
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
(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.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
|🩷| 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.
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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...)
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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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zuruthekitsune · 2 months
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Ethereal blue irises...
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So I got an inquiry from one person (warm regards if you're reading this, let me know if you like it) about whether I'll be writing stories and headcanons at some point in the future, because as Ithaqua simp there's nothing left to read. So that's about it and here it is. It may not be the idea originally intended, but it's there!
This is my first story I'm publishing, so it can be quite chaotic, however, there has to be that first time sometime!
Enjoy your reading! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. Tw: none Ship: Ithaqua x Reader (female)
IMPORTANT I am very sorry if the text contains errors but as I said English is not my native language, so the text is translated by a translator. However, I try to check to the best of my ability that the text is coherent.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Everyone knew that matches with the Night Watch were tough because of his aggressive attitude and lack of mercy. He was cunning, quick and clever. He thought ahead, knowing almost the next move of his prey. You have often played with him before, and you have usually managed to escape. Is this a coincidence? Or did the hunter himself not want to kill you? This is most likely known to Ithaqua himself.
Another match, but this time on Leo's Memory map. You didn't like this map. Your clothing was not suited to the cold of this map. In addition, that often the other survivors liked to throw snowballs by surprise, which ended up with snow under your collar and jaws of teeth.
. . .
You ran over to the machine, which you began to decode. Your slightly reddened fingers hit the metal buttons of the machine, sending unpleasant shivers down your spine. Along with you in the match were Vera, Fiona and Frederick. The match itself promised to be a good one, and fortunately, you were not the first target of the hunter, which turned out to be Ithaqua. Vera managed to hold off the Nightwatchman long enough for 2 of the 5 machines to be done, at which point she fell. 
You saw from a distance how she was aggressively planted in a chair by Ithaqua. You didn't like watching this, particularly because you managed to get to know at least a little bit of Ithaqua himself, who doesn't seem to be, the monster he thinks he is. You saw in him a lost man with a tragic past. You managed to exchange a few sentences in the garden when he had no way of escaping from your person, but now was not the time to reflect on what kind of man Ithaqua really is. What mattered now was the match and bringing about a win or at least a draw. 
You were about to run to midfield, but you were forestalled by Fiona, so you turned back to the machine, which was already half done. In the back of your mind, you asked for the match to end quickly and with a victory for you-survivors. 
. . .
The match was slow-going, but by this time, the balance of victory had tipped in favor of the hunter. The last machine remained, but you were injured after protecting Frederick’s giving with your body. He tried to hold Ithaqua as long as he could so that you would have time to make the last machine, but you did not make it, and Frederick was put down and thus sent back to the mansion. 
You were left alone, injured and with no idea where the dungeon was, which was the only sensible solution. With caution, you began to traverse the map, asking the heavens not to meet Ithaqua, who would probably show you no mercy, because a game is a game.... And you had no hope that he would become kind to you and let you escape the dungeon. 
You finally found the dungeon, and your eyes flashed slightly, but very quickly your face grinned when you noticed Ithaqua standing by it, who was now playing with his lantern by lightly hitting it with his metal claws against the glass of his lantern, which gave off a soft, warm yellow glow. 
Instantly, your heart went up to your throat as you took a quick step backwards and dove behind the wall, causing the snow beneath your feet to crunch, making a sound loud enough for the hunter to hear.  
"Mmm? I know you're here...". Which made you hold your breath and cover your mouth with your hand because your heart was beating very fast, so in a moment of not thinking much, you took off running ahead, showing your position to the hunter, whose face showed a sly smile that was hidden under his mask. 
"Silly girl... Do you think you can escape me?". The excitement of the possibility of another 'hunt' was palpable in his words. You didn't look back but ran ahead, jumping over windows and pallets, but at one point you felt an unpleasant cold sensation that surrounded you and then suddenly pulled you back so that you hit your back against the hunter's stomach, letting out a shuddering breath. You felt fear paralyze your body as the bloody, ice axe blade dropped in front of you. It would only take one move on the part of the Night Watch to send you to your knees by painfully cutting your legs. 
"Mmm?" You heard a quiet, confused murmur from the man behind you. "It's not an everyday sight for my prey to stand still...". You didn't know what the hunter behind you was doing now. You only heard the typical sound of clothing materials rubbing against each other, which let you know of the hunter's movement behind you. 
You held your breath as you felt a hand come down on your shoulder and then tighten, forcing you to turn to face the hunter, whose ethereal blue irises bore into you as if trying to devour you, which only made your body tremble and goosebumps appear on your back.
"Why aren't you running away?" He hovered suddenly, causing you to reflexively take a step backwards in fear, forgetting the wait that was the cause of your fall and hissing in pain through the cut. You raised your gaze quickly back to the hunter, who was staring impassively at your figure with his head slightly tilted. You tried to get anything out of yourself, but no words were able to squeeze through your throat, clenched with fear, only quiet pouting and shuddering breath finding an outlet.
"Hmm... Killing you will no longer give me any pleasure.... What's the pleasure in killing an unmoved animal...?". The man's voice seemed resigned when, with a sudden quick movement, he grabbed your hand and pulled, making him hold you over his shoulder flipped like a sack of potatoes. You knew he must have been strong.... after all, he was wielding an axe with one hand.... but you didn't think a seemingly frail man could carry another person on his shoulder. Although? Your body was small and light as a feather, even to other survivors. 
 "W-Where are you taking me...? W-What do you want to do with me? Why don't you just kill me...?". You rattled off many questions to the man, but he answered none of them, so being resigned, you didn't speak but stared at the ground, hoping for a miracle that the Night Watch didn't want to play with his prey like a cat with food, but your eyes opened wider when the noise of the dungeon reached those ears. You rose slightly, supporting yourself with the hands you placed on the hunter's shoulder blade. "W-What...? Wh-Why...? W-.. Waait!". You shouted as you suddenly felt yourself falling into the black abyss, and all you could see before the blackness filled your field of vision were the hunter's ethereally blue irises and that slight... sincere smile...?
"Why did he do that...?" The question echoed in your head as you closed your eyes, only to suddenly catch your breath and open your eyes wide as you now lay on your soft bed, staring at the ceiling, analyzing the entire match and the hunter's behavior. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Thank you for reading!
If you have any story ideas, let me know! I'll try to put your idea into practice!
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philomena-propellente · 2 months
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— ❝ 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. ❞
greetings, detectives! with the season of love ever rapidly approaching, we here within the agency have been making rapid preparations, and we're finally ready to go live with our very first event!
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spanning from the first to the fourteenth, we've created a list of prompts meant to count down to valentine's day itself, all themed after the very chocolates associated with the holiday!
found below the cut, these prompts are entirely free to use, whether you are or aren't a member of our network. there are no real rules, either, so feel free to go wild! feel free to tag us if you attempt any of these prompts, too!
whether you’re spending the holiday among lovers, friends, family, or even by yourself; happy valentine’s day from philomena propellente!
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— ❝ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. ❞
Strawberry Crème: Realizing they’ve fallen for you.
Cocoa Truffle: Cuddling.
Butterscotch Square: Pining/Mutual Pining.
Cherry Cordials: Jealousy. 
Raspberry Crème: COA AU.
White Chocolate Truffle: Love Languages.
Solid Chocolate: Free Space.
Sea Salt Caramel: Terrible Pick-Up Lines.
Coffee Truffle: First Kisses.
Vanilla Crème: Pre-Manor AU.
Milk Chocolate Caramel: Matches with/against them.
Dark Chocolate Almonds: Misunderstandings.
Rose Crème: Confessions.
Box of Chocolates: Valentine’s Day!
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i hope that love and happiness find you, too.
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