#Idv angst

[sinisteryanderescribe]

Norton Campbell is the type of boyfriend who initially struggles to find peace at night. He lies on his side, his back turned to you, muscles tense and restless. The shadows in the room seem to mirror the turmoil in his mind, and you can sense the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. It takes time for him to unwind, the silence thick with the echoes of his past.

But as the night deepens, a shift begins. You feel him gradually relax, his breathing becoming steadier. He turns toward you, and you catch a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes before he pulls you in by your waist, guiding you to rest against his chest. The warmth of his body envelops you, and there’s a sense of safety in the way he tugs you closer, as if he’s claiming the moment for both of you.

Once you’re nestled against him, he often lets his hand slide to your thigh, the weight of it grounding him. His fingers linger, tracing soft, deliberate patterns that send shivers up your spine. Sometimes, he’ll slip his hand under the hem of your shirt, his touch warm against your skin, igniting a gentle spark of intimacy. It’s a silent exchange, a way for him to connect with you deeply, feeling your warmth and letting go of the chaos outside.

As he buries his face into your hair, inhaling your scent, you can feel the tension in his body fade. He finds solace in your closeness, his breath warm against your neck, and you sense how much he craves this connection. Occasionally, he’ll shift slightly, urging you to lean deeper into him, his arm wrapping securely around your waist, pulling you even closer. It’s possessive yet tender, a protective embrace that makes you feel cherished.

When nightmares stir him from sleep, his body tenses again, but your presence acts as an anchor. He instinctively pulls you closer, his hand tightening on your thigh, fingers digging in just enough to convey his need for comfort. In those moments, you whisper soothing words, and he leans into your voice, drawing strength from your closeness. Your heartbeat becomes a steady rhythm that calms the storm inside him.

Eventually, he relaxes again, his breath evening out as he drapes his arm protectively around you. In those quiet hours, you’ve created a cocoon of safety where he can finally surrender his burdens, if only for a little while. Being wrapped in his embrace, you know that even through the shadows of his past, he finds light in your presence, a quiet intimacy that binds you both in a world that often feels chaotic.

[fishermanshook]

ASK: Hi:) if you feel like it how do you think ganji norton and naib would react to reader saying they feel safe with them?

“TRUST IN ME!”

( batter , prospector & mercenary ) + gn!reader

occ , angst in naib & ganji’s part , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

To fall in love is a risk not all are willing to take. Putting your heart on the line could result in rejection and heartache instead of love and happiness.

To fall in love in a place like this is out of the ordinary, but not exactly uncommon. And as you find yourself sinking more into your lovers embrace, you can’t help but whisper the words;

“I trust you.”

꒰wc꒱ 1.3k

✦— THE BATTER

You say it to him after a match where one reckless move could’ve killed you.

It’s night when the Batter, Ganji Gupta, holds you tight in his arms. Maybe a little too tight for your liking, but you did put him in a frightening situation earlier today. You recall shoving him out of the way in order to save him from a blow to your head. You don't remember much after that. Just blurry memories of being in Emily's office and then, returning to your room with Ganji.

“Ganji,” you sigh, clawing at his arms in an attempt to free yourself from his grasp, even if it’s just a little bit. “You’ve gotta loosen up a little bit, please. I’m really sorry I did that earlier, but you needed to get out…”

Ganji is quick to stop your rambling by holding you (somehow) even tighter than before. “[name], you got hit on the head with an axe. None the less, a Detention hit. If I—“ Ganji sucked in a deep breath of air, letting it fall from his mouth before speaking again. "If I hadn't used my last ball I don't think you would've struggled out in time. And I don't want to think about having to leave you behind because that was your last chair."

Immediately, Ganji stiffens and sits ups. he seems to have finally processed what just happened.

"[name]. you could've died. And for what?" Ganji repeats the question while shaking you by your shoulders, tears pricking at his eyes threating to fall.

You cup his face and put your forehead to his, allowing his to fulling chompreheand the choice you made during the last match.

"I understand it was stupid of me," You start, closing your eyes. "But I don't do things without reason."

The Batter quickly wipes away at his falling tears, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Then why did you do it? You said it yourself, it was a stupid choice."

"Yes, but I did it for you. I did it because I have put more trust into you than anyone else in this wretched manor. And I knew, that even if I didn't make it out during that last game, that you would still be okay. Surviving another match means surviving another day. And for you, I'd do that again."

"God," Ganji wipes at his nose. "I hope you don't."

✦— THE PROSPECTOR

You say it to him when you’re tired and vulnerable. when anything can happen.

It was early in the morning when the Prospector, Norton Campbell, snuck into your room to pry you awake from your slumber. With your bedroom key in hand (you gave it to him in case of an emergency), he tip toed into your room. He couldn’t help but silently laugh as he peered at your morning appearance. Hair a mess with a side of droll staining your pillow. Cute, but he can stare more later.

The Prospector is quick to shake you awake, pinning your arms to your side so you don’t land a hit on him in fear of being attacked. As he hovers above you, he explains that there’s something he wishes to show you.

“But Norton,” you whisper into his ear “the sun isn’t even up yet.” You hoped the darkness of your room could conceal the light blush on your face.

“Exactly why I want you to come with me. I promise it’ll be worth it.” Norton mumbled, pulling you out from under the covers. Sliding on a pair of shoes, you drag your achy body behind him and follow the Prospector outside the manor.

Fresh dew covered the grass outside, making it a bit wet and chillier than usual outside. Fortunately, Norton had came prepared. Set up outside was a big fluffy blanket with more than enough pillows to spare. Two mugs of coffee residing inside.

“Ever seen the sunrise?” Norton asks, already knowing the answer based off your shocked expression.

You shake your head no as the Prospector reaches to grab your hand and lead you towards the spot. It didn’t take long to get settled, and when you did, you found your head in the core of Norton’s lap.

“Oh? What’s this?” Norton teased “cold aren’t ya’?” You shiver in his arms as a response. Before grabbing his face with your hands. It’s a weird position, but Norton doesn’t mind. Instead he leans into your touch. A soft smile on his face.

“Have I ever told you how much I trust you?” You ask with genuine curiosity.

“I’m not sure, have you?” Norton questions, brushing your hair to the side of your face.

“No, I’m being serious. Stuck in a place like this leaves everyone fending for themselves. But because I have you, I have someone to watch my back. I really appreciate that Norton. I trust you more than anyone else in this manor.”

Norton looks at you with sad eyes as he bends down to place a gentle kiss upon your forehead.

“I trust you more, doll.” He says as the sun starts to rise. Showering you in its warmth and light, a feeling he now resonates when it comes to you.

✦— THE MERCENARY

You say it to him during a particularly risky match where everything seems to be on the line.

There are time where a match can go inexplicably well, where everything goes absolutely perfect and you survive the game with all your limbs intact and the egotistical pride that comes with it.

Those aren’t all the time though, and when both sides are fighting it out until their last breath, it turns into a messy and an undoubtedly long match.

This seems to be one of them, and you’ve collected more than enough scars and bumps and bruises to prove it. You’re more than sure you’ll have to make a stop by Emily’s offfice, but now’s not the time to think about that. You must stay focus on your current task: stitching up Naib.

Sangria got him good this time as a long scar has taken shape on his back. Naib bites down on his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the whimpers of pain he feels. He thought he was better at this. Better at pretending he wasn’t hurting. You know him all too well though.

“m’ sorry, ‘m sorry I know it hurts. I promise I’ll be done in just a second.” You say in attempt to comfort and reassure him. All he does is nod his head and sucks in a breath of air in order to steady himself.

The Mercenary is off the second he feels you tighten the last of his bandages. You’re quick to jump onto a cipher machine as well to catch up on the progress that was lost.

—

This match has been nothing short of a living, breathing disaster.

You still can't shake the ear piercing scream Fiona let out as she was hit down again minutes later, and you won't forget the horrible cut that now runs across Naib's stomach. You’d stich it up but you don’t have the time for it. Not when Fiona needs rescuing.

“Naib, take over the last cipher. I have to go in.” You tell the Mercenary, racing past him. He stops you, grabbing—no, shaking you by the shoulders.

“No, please, [name] don’t go in there. It’s not worth it we can, we can get—“ he continues to trip over his words out of fear and desperation. “please [name], I don’t wanna lose you.”

“Naib, I promise I’ll be out soon. I trust you, I wouldn’t go in if I didn’t.” And that’s that. You place a quick kiss on his forehead before dashing off towards Fiona’s chair. You hear him scream your name out afterwards.

note: KILLS MYSELF THIS IS ACTUALLY TERRIBLE [crys]

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[ithaqualovers]

The Heart is Torn And Blood is Spilt

Tw: Self-esteem, Dacryphilia, Blood, Gore, Slight-smut, Mother-issues, PTSD.

((GUYS I DELETED THE OTHER ONE I POSTED BECAUSE I DECIDED TO FINISH IT ON ONE. XC... Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it because this is literally a LOT of writing xd || I reached 7.8k word count skdksk... Anyway, enjoy-)

While walking through the cold woods you hear the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. You can see your breath in the air, and you can feel the chill of the winter air. The scenery is breathtaking, and you pause for a moment to take it all in. You can hear the distant chirping of birds, and the crunch of snow under your feet. This place is so cold that you even wonder why it is so cold here. The season of spring has just begun, and it is not even the beginning of winter yet. Welp, welcome to the Plateau of Leng. It's known for its cold climate and mysterious atmosphere. It's a place like no other.  

You continued your exploration of the Plateau of Leng, and you can feel the chill in the air. People here have adapted to the cold, and you can see them wearing thick clothing and furs. Even the animals of the Plateau have evolved to survive the cold temperatures. Even heard of the great old ones said to live in the depths of the Plateau of Leng, Ithaqua. They were said to be as old as the Plateau of Leng itself, and they were feared by the locals. But, meh. Ithaqua is nothing but a myth, a bedtime story parents tell their children to scare them into behaving.  

As you went deeper into the Plateau of Leng, you started to understand why they were so afraid. The strange creatures, the eerie howls, and the sheer sense of dread that seemed to hang in the air. It was enough to make you think that maybe Ithaqua might not be just a myth after all. You started humming a song about Ithaqua, trying to distract yourself from the fear. “Ithaqua is not real! Ithaqua is just a story they tell! Nothing but a figment of our imagination.” You kept repeating the words to yourself, trying to make yourself feel better. But deep down, you weren't so sure.   

Then a sudden gust of wind blew, pushing you back as if something unseen was passing by. You turned, looking for the source of the wind, but there was nothing there. You started to shiver, feeling a chill run down your spine. “.... Calm yourself, Y/n...” You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady your racing heart. You closed your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them again, all was still. You were alone, and the wind had passed. The terrifying trees around you rustled, the birds had all flown away, and the sun had disappeared behind the clouds.  

A whistle that sounds like a bird is coming from behind the tall trees. You heard the noise and quickly spun around to find the source of the sound. "... Who's there?" Peering through the dense trees, you saw a silhouette in the distance. Fear gripped your heart as you took a step back, your eyes wide with terror. A chuckle and giggle echoed through the woods, followed by a faint whisper. “Don't fret. I promise I will not hurt you.”  

The creature giggled and stepped out from behind the trees, revealing his horrifying appearance. He stares at your eyes with pale blue orbs behind the white mask. His long fingers beckoned you closer, and the faint smell of death hung in the air. “You have nothing to fear from me,” he said softly. You stepped back, fear coursing through your veins. You don't trust him, and your instincts tell you to run.   

The creature smiled behind his mask and stepped closer. He giggled, a sinister sound that sent a chill up your spine. You turned and ran, not daring to look back until you were safely away. He watched you, a bemused expression on his face. “Someone help!” You yelled, but there was no one around. You stumbled and fell, your heart pounding as you looked back and saw the creature still watching you. You scrambled to your feet and ran faster.  

"... I guess I have to chase you down." He sighed. Then the figure started chasing you. He was laughing like a maniac. His long slender hands pulled your hair tightly, making you fall to the snow-covered ground. You felt the cold snow against your skin as you tried to get away. He continued to laugh, a chilling sound that echoed around you, but he pinned your leg down using the large metallic blades that were bound to his legs. You screamed in terror as you felt the blade piercing your skin. Blood started to pour out of the wound as you tried to break free from his grip. You felt the coldness of the snow and the terror of the situation overwhelm you.  

“You shouldn't have come here. These are my woods. I guard this forest.” He growled, pushing the blade deeper. You winced in pain, screaming out. He went closer to your face and snarled, “You should have thought twice before trespassing. You should have known better than to come here.” You looked up at his angry face and managed to squeak out a few words. “My apologies for trespassing into your forest! I was only here to explore the beauty of nature... I am sorry...”  

He stopped pushing the blade. He seemed to calm down. He scratched the back of his hood and slowly raised his head, looking into the forest. But while you were pinned down and helpless beneath his blade, you remembered that this creature was the Ithaqua who had taken the lives of so many of the people. This figure was the one who the town feared most. “You are Ithaqua...?” You asked, your voice barely audible. The figure paused for a moment before nodding. “That's what they call me. Ithaqua, Wind-Walker, Death-Walker, I had been called by many names.” He looked down at you.  

You weren't sure what to do. The figure seemed powerful and intimidating, and you were filled with fear. "You know... Some of you humans even worship me." He said with a laugh. “Hehehe.... And some of them tried to hunt me down.” You were left speechless, unsure of how to respond. “Hey? You there? Why so silent? Scared to talk to me?” He tilted his head. You were frozen in fear, unable to move or reply. He smiled behind the mask, and the air around him seemed to grow colder. “Come on, I'm not that scary,” he said, in a more sinister tone.  

You were still pinned down, and you felt the blood slowly dripping down your leg and the pain increasing. He laughed and leaned in closer, his breath hot on your face. You could feel his presence looming over you, and it felt like your entire body was paralyzed. “You are interesting.” He stood up and pulled the blade from your leg. You winced in pain again as you felt the blade leave your leg.  

“Can't get up?” He chuckled and said, “Let me take care of you.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you. Blood spilled on the snowy ground as he pulled you along. You were taken to a pond where the ice was slowly melting. He placed his ice axe on the ground and released your arm, then he sat down on the cold ground. He removed the bandages that are around the metallic stilts. After removing his stilts, he pulled your leg to the pond's edge and submerged it in the cold water.  

You felt the cold sensation and immediately your leg was numb. You cried out in pain, but he ignored it and kept your leg in the water. You felt a sharp pain in your leg and then it subsided. He then removed your foot from the water and began to wrap it in bandages that were used on his stilts before. “There... All done! Hehe... You feel better now?” he asked. You nodded, still in shock from the pain. “I will be back; I'm just going to remove the blood from my blade.” He turned and walked away, leaving you to process the pain. You lay there, feeling a dull ache in your leg and trying to make sense of what had just happened.  

Meanwhile, Ithaqua removed the blood stain from the large metallic blade from the pond. He had used the pond to cleanse the blade of your blood. Suddenly, something came into his mind, and he stared at the pond. He saw the reflection of a figure in the pond. It was himself, standing with the large metallic blade in his hands. He slowly removed his mask and looked deep into the reflection. His pale face, his pale eyes, and his pale locks flowed in the wind.  

You were watching him from the other side of the pond. Looking down at the pond and appearing to be in deep thought, as if he were debating something in his head, you don't understand what he was doing. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him." You could hear him muttering. He was shaking his head as he continued to repeat the words. His jaw was clenching, and his eyes filled with tears. The grip on the blade in his hand was so tight. He raised his arm and hurled the blade into the pond with all his might. The ripples spread across the surface of the pond.  

He slumped onto the ground, breathing heavily. His face was pale, and he was trembling. He sat there motionless, watching the ripples slowly fading away. You looked at him, wondering what had just happened. He seemed to be in shock, and you could see fear in his eyes. The hood of Ithaqua came down as his hands gripped his hair tightly. His breathing began to slow, and his trembling stopped. He looked up at you, his eyes wide with terror. “What are you looking at?” he whispered. When you saw the creature's face for the first time, he wasn't even a beast after all. You could see his humanity in his eyes, and you knew he was no monster. He was just broken, a victim of circumstance.  

Even though he hurt your leg, you couldn't help but feel pity for him. “... Is there something wrong...?” You asked with your voice slightly trembling from the cold. In the middle of a pond on the other side of the lake, while you two sat there staring at each other in silence. As the cold winter forest surrounded the two of you, the tall trees swayed in the wind. You could feel the chill of the air. The only sound you could hear was the rustling of the leaves.  

He slowly opened his mouth and said, “It's nothing.” He looked away, and you could see a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Is there something bothering you?” You asked. He shook his head, refusing to meet your gaze. “Nothing is bothering me.” He glared at you. You sighed and looked away. You knew he was lying, but you didn't want to push him. You decided to give him some space and not press the issue.  

“....” He slowly put his mask back on. He stood up and began to walk towards you. He stopped in front of you and looked you in the eyes. Then he grabbed his ice axe which was beside you. You looked at him nervously, not knowing what to expect. The wound on your leg, which was wrapped in a bandage. He carefully examined it before looking back at you again. “You are really interesting...” He put his ice axe on his shoulder and then leaned in closer. “You look pitiful...” He whispered and smiled behind the mask. “Feeling so pity for me...”  

He giggled. “You do not have to feel pity for me.” He gently brushed his fingers against the bandage. “In fact,” he said, “you are the one who needs pity.” He stood up and said, “You are hurt and helpless... Cannot stand very well." He chuckled and laughed as he was mocking you. You looked away, embarrassed, but he didn't seem to notice. He continued, “Hehe... You can't do much, can you?” He smiled, amused by your discomfort. “You know what? I'll just keep you here with me, that way I won't have to fret about you running away again.” You felt a chill run down your spine as his words hit you.  

“Keep me?” You asked, feeling a wave of panic wash over you. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. A sinister glint lit his eyes behind the mask as he replied, “Yes, keep you as mine.” He moved closer to you, his breathing heavy as he towered over you. “You will stay with me forever.” He said, his voice a low growl. You shook your head, trying to move away from him but he was too close. You felt your heart pounding in your chest and fear taking over as you realized that you were trapped. He reached out his hand and grabbed your arm while his other arm carried the two large blades, a cruel smirk behind the white mask.  

“I am going to keep you as my company.” He started dragging you again. “No, no, no!” You started struggling, trying to break free from his grasp, but his grip was too strong. You screamed for help, but no one was there to hear you. And of course, you are in the middle of the forest. He started to laugh, a menacing laugh. You felt your heart racing as he dragged you away, not knowing what was in store for you. You were terrified. "I guess I just found myself a little friend, aren't we?” He glanced at you while dragging you deeper into the woods.  

He stopped in front of a broken-down cabin, opened the door and pushed you in. You stumbled and fell onto the ground.  

“Stay here, and I will be back.” Before he shut the door you suddenly spoke.  

“W..Where are you going...?”  

“That's none of your concern.”  

He slammed the door shut and you heard him laughing as he walked away. You lay there, shaking, as you heard him walking further away. 

As Ithaqua locked you up in a broken-down cabin, you never found a way out of this place. Instead, you crawl on top of a mattress infested with bugs. You lay there in the dark, unable to move, feeling the bugs crawling on your skin. The wind outside howls like a ghost, and you start to hear scratching and gnawing from below. You sleep fitfully, not knowing what horrors this day will bring. 

A few hours later, a sudden thud came outside. The door creaks open, and someone enters the room. You woke up and heard the voice of a male that took you, “Fret not. It's just me, Ithaqua.” He said his voice like a distant whisper. A blood stain covered his outfit and blood dripped down the chin of the mask he was wearing. A gory intestine hung from the sharp blade of his long weapon. A scream escaped your lips as you shrieked in fear. “DON'T KILL ME!” You trembled in fear, unable to move. Ithaqua chuckled. “My word, you really fear the sight of blood, do you not?” He moved forward, dragging the severed arm and intestines through the broken-down door, leaving pieces and blood behind on the floor. The sharp, metallic smell reached your nostrils. He held the arm and intestines in front of your eyes, forcing you to stare at them. “Does this bother you?” You couldn't take your eyes away, shaking with fear as tears streamed down your face.

You could feel yourself going into shock as Ithaqua continued to laugh at your terror. “W-What is this...? Who are these people you've killed...?” You asked. Ithaqua tilted his head, still smiling. But his eyes were hidden behind his featureless mask. In fact, there was something unsettling in his entire demeanor, perhaps because of the brutality of the situation. “I don't normally kill people at all,” he replied in a flat tone of voice. “These must've been foolish travelers who entered my barbaric forest without permission.” He gestured around him, his gloved hand gesturing towards the torn-up inside of the cabin.  

Blood was dripping down from the ceiling above. You looked up at the ceiling in horror. Your mind feels like it's spinning, trying to comprehend what exactly happened here. These corpses must have been his victims and were hidden in this cabin. No wonder it stinks here. You shivered at the thought and looked back at him. “So... These people... you killed-” Suddenly your words stopped when he spoke so suddenly “They must've been foolish enough to enter my forest without permission.” His expression became serious, his tone shifting to one of deadly seriousness. “I must have no witnesses to my presence. No one can be allowed to leave here alive. These people have already gotten too close.” He stepped closer, kneeling down so his eyes were level with yours.  

“But you... you were unlucky, but not foolish. What is your name?” You paused, looking into his icy-blue irises pupils. Then you spoke. “My name is... Y/n” you said hesitantly. Ithaqua kept looking into your eyes, studying your expression. Then, he reached your hand, moving your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. His finger lightly brushed your jawline. “A unique name. But your name is not necessary for now. From now on, you are my captive, and I will be your keeper.” His voice was quiet and calm, but it made your skin crawl.

You were too scared to move, so you just stayed rooted to the spot, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You felt a chill go down your spine when he touched you, and you closed your eyes, trying to suppress the fear. Ithaqua smiled. The mask he wore, painted with two, cold, unblinking, almond-shaped eyes, almost looked friendly when he did this. You felt a sudden wave of calm wash over you. “Don't fear me. I would not hurt you.” His breath brushed your hairline. You opened your eyes, meeting Ithaqua's gaze. You weren't even so sure if you should trust him. He's creepy yet something's wrong with him.  

You spoke softly, “What are you going to do to me?” Ithaqua laughed. The sound was harsh and loud, like the wind howling outside. “How could you even ask such a thing? I will keep you. As my captive. No one will ever touch you, let alone see you. You will be mine and mine alone.” He got closer. The stench of blood was faint on his clothes. He wrapped a hand around your chin, cradling it. “You look... quite pretty, I must say.” He chuckled again. His grip tightened your chin, as the nails of his gloves digging into your skin. You muffled a cry of pain, not wanting to make a sound.

You felt your heart racing, fear coursing through your veins. Ithaqua chuckled again, his hand squeezing your chin as the nails pierced your skin. You felt pain, but no blood could be seen on his gloves. It was as if he were trying to hurt you yet doing no damage at all. “Such a frail little thing, you are. Just looking at you brings forth an urge to destroy you, in order to watch you crumble.” His tone was serious. You felt his fingers tighten further. “But... you are far too precious to be destroyed. At least, not yet.” He released your chin, and the pain subsided.  

You put your hand to your chin, feeling the pain he had caused. Breathlessly, looked up into his eyes, feeling the intensity of his gaze. The tears in your eyes were cold on your hot cheeks. Ithaqua laughed, his harsh, cold voice echoing through the small room. You were still unable to move, and he came even closer, his gloved hand caressing the side of your face. “Such a sweet little cry you made,” he whispered. “And such beautiful eyes, Y/n.” He let his fingers trace the pattern of your tear tracks. His touch sent shivers down your spine. You wanted to pull away, but you were held in place by his gaze.

Suddenly, something changed Ithaqua's mind, and he pulled away from you. The way you cried out for help had an effect on him and he stepped away. He had a moment of hesitation, as if he remembered something in his past. His mother's face flashed in his mind, and he knew he had to let go. Ithaqua seemed deep in thought. His hand slowly retreated, leaving you alone and free to move again. 

His eyes flickered with memories of his past. A sense of loss was evident in his expression. He was holding onto a memory. Of a moment when he felt love for the very first time. His mother's eyes were filled with worry and sadness. You saw him for the first time. Not the monster. But something else. Human. Your body shook with fear, but you could not look away. There was something about him that you didn't understand. Why was he silent all of a sudden? You wanted to ask him what was wrong, but you couldn't find the words. You just sat there on the mattress, looking at his pale blue pupils. Ithaqua, for the first time, felt his facade crack.  

The mask he hid his real face behind was faltering. He felt something at that moment that he hadn't felt in countless centuries. A sense of compassion. A sense of love. And it scared him. Of course, he has felt love in the past. The kind of love only a mother can feel for a child. "I-" He cleared his throat. "I believe I've made a mistake. You are not one of the fools." He walked towards the doorway, turning his back on you. But what does he mean that “You are not one of the fools”? What was he talking about? “Huh?” It is the only word you managed to say. “You are precious to me. You remind me of her...” He opened the door, letting the cold wind enter and sweep through the cabin. But instead of leaving you, he walked towards you. His expression was filled with emotions, hard to decipher. Your eyes widened in surprise. Who is her? You thought about asking but you were too afraid. You were confused and scared, yet you felt a strange warmth in your chest. Ithaqua slowly crouched, putting a finger on your face.  

You felt the rough leather of his glove. You felt his touch on your skin. The sense of warmth only increased. He looked at you, seemingly studying your every curve and detail. At that moment, you felt loved. “You remind me... of my mother.” He spoke softly. His tone was quiet and gentle. “Your innocence was just like hers.” You blinked, too surprised and overwhelmed to respond. Eyes narrowed as you looked away from him, not knowing what to say or do. You were still scared due to the gory scene and his bloody appearance, and the severed arm on the floor was still... there... Ithaqua saw your still-scared expression, and he noticed that. He reached towards the severed limb, picking it up without looking at your deadened face. With a quick motion, he threw the arm outside through the doorway, shutting the door immediately after. Then he turned back to you, his body almost touching yours and his expression serious. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” He leaned in closer, looking deep into your eyes. “My behavior was inexcusable..” You felt the sense of love overwhelming you.  

What was happening? Was he trying to be gentle? You hadn't felt this before. You never understood why, but you couldn't help but feel drawn to him at that moment. His sudden change was confusing to you. You remembered when the two of you were at the pond where he was staring at himself on the water, and a sudden act that he had taken that you didn't understand. He was like a mystery to you. Ithaqua smiled. It wasn't the same cruel smile he had worn before. His gaze lowered to your hair, then to your face. He seemed sad. He reached out a hand towards you, caressing your skin with the back of his fingers. “Come...” Ithaqua's voice was soft and gentle. “I have something to show you.” He held out a hand towards you as if asking you to follow. You hesitated, looking at him before looking down at your leg which was wrapped in bandages, yet you can't even be able to walk. 

“You see that I cannot walk...” You spoke, “Are you going to drag me again like a ragdoll?” Ithaqua raised an eyebrow. “You're quite dramatic, aren't you? No worries, I'll just lift you up, and we'll be off.” He sounded a bit annoyed with your words, but his expression was calm again. “It's not like I'll kill you or anything. At least, not now.” With that, he picked you up as if you were a sack of potatoes. He was strong. Well... Even though he has bony arms. You felt a little embarrassed and ashamed of your outburst, but it was too late. You wrapped your arms around his hood, and he started walking with you in tow. “Where are you taking me?” You asked.  

Are you always this naïve? A gust of strong wind opened the door as he went outside with you carrying you in his arms. His boots crunched against the snow as he walked with you in the cold forest. But you felt a strange warmth and comfort in his arms as he carried you. He didn't respond to your question, instead, he kept walking for miles until he stopped in front of a large log. Beside the log, you saw two snowmen. The big snowman had two red feathers on its head and pieces of green fruits hanging on its face and it seemed like it was hugging the little snowman. Ithaqua walked with you in his arms, your weight on his hands. The cold wind was brushing against your bare legs, but his body provided warmth and comfort. Ithaqua eventually stopped, setting you down next to the large log.  

You looked up at the snowmen, which you hadn't noticed before. "What are those snowmen?" You asked curiously, staring at both the large snowman with the two red feathers and the smaller snowman. They seemed to have embraced each other. Their eyes closed like they were happy together. It was almost poetic. A smile spread across Ithaqua's face as you admired the snowmen. He was thinking about his mother. A sense of guilt and sorrow was evident in his eyes. “These... these are snowmen I made a long time ago, when I still lived with my mother.” He seemed nostalgic. He knelt in front of the snowmen, slowly stroking the large one's face. You watched silently, trying to imagine what it must have been like for him. “I am sorry for your lost.” You whispered, trying to give him some comfort. Ithaqua looked up at you, smiling softly behind the featureless mask.  

You felt the sense of warmth coming from him. The grief was still evident on his face, even though years had passed since his mother's death. “I would give up everything... just to experience the same affection again.” He whispered. He looked at both snowmen, stroking their faces and wiping the snow from their eyes. “I miss my mother... I wish... things were different...” You could hear the heartbreak and sorrow in his voice.  

You really felt for him. You wanted to tell him that everything would be okay, but you didn't. You just stayed there, in silence, and let him grieve. Ithaqua stayed that way, grieving and remembering the only person he had felt love for. Your sense of compassion and empathy was surprising to you. Ithaqua, the cold and cruel killer? The creature of the night, with no emotions? It was strange to see this side of him. And you wanted to feel this kind of love from him. You didn't know why. But you wanted it. His eyes were still filled with grief as he looked at the snowmen. He seemed to remember their faces, their smiles, and most importantly, the love his mother felt for him.  

After a few moments, he stood back up. His gaze was serious again as if returning to his usual demeanor. “Shall I carry you back to the cabin?” he asked politely, looking down at you. You nodded, “... Sure.” You looked up at him. You felt a deep connection to him and his pain. Now, you understood what it was like to be without love, and you wanted to be able to give it to him. Ithaqua kneeled once again, picking you up with ease. Your legs dangled beneath his arms as he stood up. The wind brushed against both of you, but you felt the heat emanating from him. “Come.” He spoke. His tone had changed again, from soft and calm to harsh and cold again. “We must not dawdle.” He turned around, carrying you, and started heading back to the cabin.

The snow crunched in every step he took. You were too scared to say anything, so you stayed quiet and did as he said. He soon arrived at the broken cabin and entered. There was no warm and inviting fire, no comforting smell of food, only a chill in the air and the sound of the wind outside and the smell of blood.  

Your mind was filled with uneasiness. The cabin was filled with silence, apart from the howling of the outside wind and the crunching of the snow beneath Ithaqua's feet. You couldn't see as he entered with you in his arms. The cabin was cold. But the sense of warmth was everywhere. You could feel it coming from Ithaqua. You heard Ithaqua place you on a bed, and then he sat on the foot of it. His body emanated a feeling of warmth and you felt yourself relaxed a bit, your uneasiness slowly fading away.

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at his white bloody mask. “Why are you wearing your mask even when you're alone with me?” you asked. “Is there something that really bothers you? You've been acting so strangely like a while ago when we were at the pond... And I heard you muttering about... someone. Who was he?” Ithaqua turned his head to you, his mask facing you.  

Your question seemed to surprise him, the expression on his face changing. Ithaqua's body tensed, and you could feel the heat emanating from him disappear immediately. “That was... nothing,” Ithaqua whispered. “As for why I wear my mask... it is a part of me. I feel incomplete without it.” His voice was cold again. He stared you down, his tone stern and harsh. "It would be in your best interest not to ask about things that do not concern you, Y/n." You didn't heed his warning at all. “I am curious,” you said, your voice unwavering. “Who is he?” Ithaqua’s eyes widened, and his jaw clenched.

Without another word, he grabbed his long weapon, the ice axe, and pointed the blade at you. “We DO NOT speak about HIM. He's a fool, nothing but a devil WHO WORE MY FACE.” He spat out the words, his fury radiating in the air. “And this? This mask you're talking about? I keep my ugly face to be hidden. DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND ME?” An unexpected surge of rage came over him. His eyes were wild, and his expression was menacing behind the mask. He was trembling with rage, and he seemed ready to strike. His past had been a hard one and this was a reminder of it.  

Ithaqua's rage was evident. His body was shaking as he tightened his grip on his axe. Ithaqua's voice was loud and aggressive, his mask hiding his expression. You felt his anger like a heavy weight on you, as he stood up, his body moving towards the foot of your bed while he pointed his axe at you. Your heart was pumping, as his rage seemed to grow with every angry word he spoke. It was like he became a different person. “WHY must you provoke me, by bringing up HE WHO SHALL NOT BE MENTIONED?!” His voice was loud, and you trembled in fear. You had no idea what was going to happen next - it felt like your life was on the line. “My apologies... I should not let my curiosity get in the way”, you replied timidly. “I am sorry.” You looked away, tears streaming down your face. Ithaqua doesn't want to talk about the man that you were curious about. His past seemed to have caught up with him, and the air was tense. 

Ithaqua remembered that day when that man led a mob to his house and took away his mother. Ithaqua could feel his heart racing, as he was reminded of the pain he faced. He saw your tears and looked at you. The anger was still prevalent on his mask, as his expression remained cold. Your uneasiness returned as you looked at him. You could see his body trembling in rage. He held the axe tightly as if he would use it any time now. He seemed to calm down. His mask made it difficult to read his expressions. “This is the last time I'm going to warn you. Don't mention him. Ever.” His voice was like a whisper.  

He seemed serious, and his rage was still evident under his breath. You nodded, not wanting to provoke him further. You moved away slowly, the insects on the mattress swarming around you. Fear crept up your spine as you removed your gaze from him. You didn't mind the insects crawling on you. Ithaqua calmed down even more. His rage settled as he stared at you, his hands gripping the axe. You could see a hint of sadness in his body. As if he was thinking about something. But what? You could see the emotions slowly creeping up on Ithaqua's mask, as he seemed calm but not completely relaxed. He was trying to regain himself. The insects on the bed seemed to be moving around your body. The insects swarmed around your feet.  

You didn't mind their presence, as they didn't harm you. The sense of uneasiness returned. Ithaqua's grip on the axe loosened and he stepped back, his gaze softening. He sighed, and his shoulders slumped in resignation. He set the axe down and removed his cloak, letting it fall into the cold ground. He only kept the white mask on his face, turning to look at you. He sat down on the mattress next to you as he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was cold like ice and yet gentle. Ithaqua seemed much calmer now. His body was no longer trembling in anger. His gaze was still solemn, but not filled with cold rage. His touch was gentle and soft, and the warmth was coming back. It was as if he was regaining his usual demeanor. He looked you in the eyes, his mask hiding his expression. Ithaqua was gentle as he brushed your hair away. “My mother always used to do this to... comfort me.” He slowly sat on the bed, looking at you. His mask hid the sorrow in his eyes. He had a distant look on his face as if reminiscing about a distant past.  

You glanced at him; his eyes were filled with sadness. Then you suddenly placed your hand on his head, patting him gently. “... Do you want to lay your head on my lap?” You asked as you turned to look back into his pale blue eyes. Ithaqua was surprised by your question. He seemed taken aback as he felt your hand patting his head. He slowly nodded. “Yes... if that's okay.” He turned his head as you gently placed his head on your lap. He felt your hand stroking his mask. Ithaqua remembered the past and all he and his mother had to endure. His mind flashed, a memory of his mother brushing his hair and patting his head, comforting him. He could almost feel his mother again. You smiled warmly at him, but you never felt so close being with the male who held you as a captive. He just wanted someone to love him again.  

Slowly, you take off the white bloody mask from his face, revealing his pale face, his cold lips, and his icy-blue eyes as you pull it off from his face. He was quite shocked to see you taking off the mask. You then gently stroke his wavy platinum hair to comfort him. Ithaqua was surprised by your action. You were the first one to see his true face. It was the first time you saw his beauty. He was handsome, despite the cold expression on his face. Ithaqua's eyes widened as he looked at you, his pale blue eyes staring intently at you. “What... You...” The words struggled to come out of his mouth as he was breathless. “You are beautiful.” You finally admitted as you whispered softly and smiled, “even with or without the mask.” You moved your hand away from his hair and placed it on his cheek. Ithaqua's cheeks turned red.  

A sense of embarrassment came over him as he felt your hands on his face. He never felt anyone's touch other than his mother's touch. “You shouldn't... see this...” He whispered as he tried to reach for the mask you took off. The joy and embarrassment in his voice were evident. There was even a hint of shyness in his tone and words. You could see his eyes light up again. You smiled at him and reassured him that it was alright. “No, it is alright. I wanted to see the real you,” you said. “You are a beautiful man. You shouldn't fear who you are.” Ithaqua's face was filled with joy, happiness, and love. He blushed a bit, as he looked at you. His eyes filled with light. “I... I shouldn't hide behind this mask. It's not who I am...” He took your hand that was on his cheek, holding it in his hand and caressing your hand. “Thanks anyway...” You could just hear his voice filled with emotions. Joy and love. You felt his heart beating, and you felt his heat emanating from his chest. You looked into his eyes, and you both knew.  

You felt the connection between you two. You moved closer to his face. “You are welcome.” His heart was beating faster, as the feelings were mutual. He moved closer to you, putting away his mask, and placing it down on the mattress so his lips were close to yours. He was holding your hand, as he caressed your cheek gently. “I have never felt like this before..” He whispered. His warm breath brushed your skin, as he gave you a slight gaze. You felt a sense of affection emanating from him. He gently placed his other hand on your neck, his fingers caressing your skin. It was like he was trying to comfort you. He was blushing a bit and smiling with his eyes closed. His voice was soft and gentle, like a whisper in the night. You could feel your heart racing, as you started to blush too. You leaned in and suddenly kissed him. His lips were cold, but your warmth spread through them. Ithaqua closed his eyes, as you kissed him. His lips were soft and cold against your lips. You could feel the affection radiating from him and your warmth spread through his lips. As you broke the kiss, you could see both of you breathing heavily.  

A sense of affection and happiness had spread across both of you. Ithaqua placed his hand on your cheek again, as you both stared at each other. “You made me feel so alive...” He whispered, smiling a bit. His eyes twinkled as he said those words. You smiled back, as you intertwined your hands with his. He stood up and pulled you closer and kissed you again. His lips were gentle yet firm. Your touch sent a shiver through his body, as a wave of passion rushed through his blood. Ithaqua's arms wrapped around your waist, as he pulled you close in kiss again. His lips were firm, with a tender and gentle touch. His hands caressed your cheeks softly, as he kissed you with love and passion. “You're so beautiful...” He whispered. “Please, never leave me... I'm sorry..”  

The words of desperation slipped from his mouth. Your touch was heavenly. You embraced him tightly, feeling his heart beating against your chest. You whispered back, "I am here, I am not going anywhere. I will stay with you always." You smiled. He let out a sigh of relief and smiled back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You held him close, giving him the comfort, he needed. He then started kissing and gently biting your neck. You felt his love and warmth radiating through you, and you melted into his embrace. Ithaqua's heart was racing, as you melted into his embrace. His body was shaking, and your love was so warm and passionate. He had never felt love, kindness, or affection for so long. Ithaqua's teeth lightly trailed along your neck, as he kissed and gently bit them. His slender hands caressed your hips, as he hugged you tightly. He was like a man starving for affection, and you were his first meal. He didn't want to let you go.  

You looked into his eyes and saw the longing he had. He slowly pushed you onto the mattress and leaned closer to you. You ran your hands through his wavy white locks and kissed him deeply. His lips were cold but sweet, with a touch of passion in them. He was almost like a hungry animal, as his hands caressed and held your hips. He looked at you passionately, like a man thirsting for compassion and love. A touch, a caress, and a hug that he hadn't had for so long. Ithaqua's lips touched you, as you both gave in to passion and love. His eyes closed tightly as he gave you a tight hug, as his hands went up your body, caressing your thighs. Your body quivered in pleasure as his touch sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel his heart beating quickly against your chest as you embraced each other. He continued to caress you, as your warmth was spread across his body. He gave you a gentle kiss, before pulling himself towards you. The sound of his heartbeat sounded like a drum in your ears. He ran his hands through your hair, his arms wrapped around you. He wanted you to know how loved you were, and to caress every inch of you. 

You could feel his fingers running up and down along your thighs and stomach. “Y/n...” He whispered with a hint of lust. His breath was hot against your neck as he lightly kissed it. His hands moved lower until they were resting just above your clothes. You could feel the anticipation building as he looked into your eyes. His fingers lightly traced the edge of your clothes, as his mouth was still caressing your neck slightly. His breath was hot, and his touch sent a shiver across your body. You could feel anticipation in his body, as his touch was getting more aggressive. He then broke the kiss, and his icy eyes met yours with a look of lust. His hands moved lower and started taking off your clothes. He then pushed them off your body, and you felt a wave of pleasure as his hands moved over your skin. His mouth followed, trailing kisses across your body. His hands moved around your body, exploring and caressing as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. You felt yourself getting lost in the moment, lost in the sensation of his touch. You felt like you were about to cry from his touch, yet you did. As your tears fell, he got even more excited.  

Ithaqua's touch was addictive, as his hands caressed and touched you more. He was slowly discovering your body, your curves, and your sensitive spots as he kissed and caressed your body. You were like heaven to his touch... He could feel his heart racing and his passion rising up inside him. As your tears dropped, his hand caressed your face as he looked deeply into your eyes. He was trying to be gentle with you. You felt the tears slowly drop from your eyes. He then kissed your eyes and kissed away your tears. Is this what love felt like? You felt overwhelmed with emotion, and you embraced him tightly. He felt his heart swell with emotion and held you close. You knew this moment was special and would never forget it. You both knew that this was the beginning of something beautiful. His heart was beating out of his chest. A wave of emotions was flowing through his veins as you held him close.  

As he felt your hands embrace him, it was all he needed at that moment. He wanted it to stay that way forever. His mouth slowly traced your neck and shoulders. His touch was light, as his tongue danced along your skin. Ithaqua's hands caressed your face again... your cheeks, your nose, your lips... as his love and passion were growing for you. Did you really have fallen in love with a man-killing beast? You looked into his eyes and could feel the love radiating from them. You knew you had fallen in love with him. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him that you would always be there for him. Now, you understand him. He was an abominable snowman, the beast who lurked on the Plateau of Leng, yet you felt a connection between the two of you. He was no longer a monster, but a loved one. Ithaqua was losing his inhibitions. He let go of his fears, his demons and his darkness, all to be with you. He had been loved finally, by someone. He wanted to comfort you, to hold you, to hug you and never let you go. You were like a Lenten Rose, a wildflower that grows in the snow. Every minute spent with you felt like an eternity. 

“I'm sorry for being harsh and for hurting you earlier,” he said. He held you tightly, as tears started streaming down his face. His heart was filled with love, and he knew he never wanted to let go. “Promise me, Y/n. That you will stay with me.” He gazed into your eyes, his own filled with regret and sorrow. “I do not want to lose you like I lose her.” 

[heartshapedbubble]

Hi there! I was wondering if it's ok if you could do some angsty head canons of Eli Clark and/or Aesop Carl. Only do this if you have time though :)

ANON.......anon your brain is so huge anon..... so ginormos

im sorry for delaying this ask i was having a brat summer (playing p3p for 4 hours a day) but ACKKKKK i was so excited when i got it i love angsty prompts

cw for: mentions of attempted death and alcohol

eli clark and aesop carl angsty hcs 🦉⚰️

eli clark🦉

he's so selfish.

he gave into the comforts of the manor too easily. the free yet quality booze that makes you feel all warm inside, the heavy meals served everyday, warm sofa cushions padding your back. he got used to it so quickly it stopped seeming like a privilege.

in moments like these he often remembers gertrude, how she's probably somewhere out there praying for his - presumably dead - body to at least be found in one piece. it has been too long since he left home in order to pursue a chance of a comfortable life for the two of them. no one would think he survived.

the unfairness of it all is what hurts him the most. how shameless of him is indulging in luxuries when his most beloved is probably rationing a two-day's portion of bread? there's probably a way to escape - but maybe he just doesn't want to.

the fastest way to cope is to indulge in those same luxuries over and over, day by day. a lavish life that would otherwise cost one a fortune is easily available to any resident. haunted by the past? down a bottle of wine with the other nobodies to forget your sorrows. or two, if one doesn't give you the kick you need. stressed? ring the butler, serve yourself and light a cigarette. don't mind the ash and the butts staining the velvet covers since it's not your duty to clean up. nothing's working yet? there's enough concoctions and drugs in the basement to take them recreatively.

he might not look like the type, but he has tried them all. he stopped with some, though, but mostly because they don't work anymore. the others, guilt. luckily his alcohol tolerance remained the same through the years and - although on very rare occassions - just a puff from a cigarette helps him unwind a bit. his two trusty companions when his head pulses from thinking too hard and the weight on his chest makes it difficult to move a muscle.

not a single speck of high taste in his actions. he doesn't chug the wine with vigour like demi or josé and whatever he smokes slips out of his fingers 'cause of his clumsy grip. the devilish temptations are splayed on the low table in front of him like a tarot deck and he slowly takes in whatever his gut finds appropriate for the moment.

he's not addicted, it's not like he'll die from withdrawal, it's just (sadly) the quickest and most effective way of avoiding his problems.

only a handful of people know about his destructive habit, and the secret hasn't spread any further since he first joined. the same way of coping with guilt and shame results in more of guilt and shame, creating a vicious cycle. especially since many newbies admire him, a veteran, for persisting for so long in the games and remaining near the top of the food chain. it's not an image one should uphold, let alone someone with his reputation.

as time passed, this means of escape became more like a ritual, way less frequent and if not more important.

besides, the end is inevitable. it has been haunting him from the very beginning, day and night. visions of chaos intrude on his peace of mind everyday and there's no way he can avoid them.

it's only a matter of time before this garden of eden turns to ash. the end is near, but what hurts the most is he's the only one who knows what's coming.

aesop carl⚰️

one may assume the influence of jerry carl upon him has dwindled with time. it has been years since aesop joined in the survivor faction and started interacting with others. he already has a set of prepared phrases to use in daily communication. to most, this might give off an impression of someone skilled in socializing - of course, this is all just learned behavior.

even with him gone, jerry did build the foundation on which aesop carl's whole being is constructed. he taught him the ropes, how to prepare the dead - or the living - for a safe departure to the other side. jerry nullified every speck of empathy that may have resided in him once, for he's just a third faction in this exchange of life and death, not somebody who can choose between mercy and violence.

his profession is what he is. he can't remember the last time he worked with a real human body, although that just might be the effect of the memory distorting drugs he unknowingly took during his stay. with no real purpose, no need for his kind, aesop carl started to crumble.

his life has been on a downward spiral ever since he stepped foot into the manor. "oh, but he embalms the puppets!" - aren't they just a disgrace to his craft!? they're nothing but a perversion of what should be the most graceful and important duty on this earth. turning cloth into skin, rice filling into flesh, doesn't all this just scream idolatry? playing god? the dead are supposed to rest, not come back to life! it's completely reversing the natural process!

he dreams of being of use again, to finally be praised and admired instead of scrutinized and avoided. the same people that treat him like a creep beg for his aid when their body lays limp in the hunter's hands.

he wants to work with real people again. sometimes he drifts off and finds himself picking out the best candidate for embalming. fantasizes of their tranquil expression, the faint traces of warmth on the skin after they die. blood trailing down the curves of their body and him gently wiping it, their life taken with just one little scar that he'll patch up anyway.

it doesn't have to always be someone else, though. he's often enarmored in thoughts about his own death. he has already decided he'll stuff his usual coffin which he uses in matches with the softest padding he can find and the freshest yellow roses from the garden. maybe he'll overdose? smoothly transport his mind from one world to another? if things don't get better, this solution is always available.

his own little funeral, fit for a prince. he has to treat himself with care, no? his frail frame has already been damaged enough.

he sometimes avoids visiting emily after matches since he'd rather suffer than engage in unnecessary conversations. he's pretty sure his left rib is broken and his right knee makes concerning noises when he puts a lot of pressure on it. not to mention the amount of times he dislocated his knees and ankles. it's all good until it hurts to breathe while running and he gets hit in the same spot over and over again until he coughs up blood. hunters catch up with weak spots faster than one may think.

the smartest decision would be letting the expert heal him, but aesop knows emily would mercilessly scold him beforehand. he often finds starting arguments and conflicts fun, but this one he wants to avoid under any circumstances.

despite how torn he is between morals his mentor showed him and morals imposed by the society he's now part of, jerry undeniably cared for aesop. he was like a father he never had. he's starving for praise, just a whiff of validation coming from somebody he knows. he's the only person that truly knew his worth.

maybe all this physical pain is a good omen, a sign that he'll pass by natural causes soon. he learned a lot about other interpretations of reality and death from fiona's seances and the religious residents' prayers. he hopes this feeling he has is right and, maybe, he'll meet jerry again in the afterlife.

[mintytealfox]

Prologue to the last drawing I did lol

But when you finally feel safe enough to get the best night's sleep ever and you don't want it to end heh

[veryaren]

again.... im nor a fan of posting my paper doodles but with how busy I am this is what I have to serve at the dinner table tonight... Sigh

[sols-edge]

just an accident

[thekeeperofdreams]

he tastes like apple juice and peach

Ganji does his best to rescue you against Fools Gold, in the end failing to do so despite his determination. you, on the other hand, focus on something a little sweeter.

genre: soft angst(?) with ganji, tho it ends fluffy !

(sorry if it's bad, this was written on a whim)

a howl and thunk of a ball crashing against the hip of Fools Gold brings you back to reality, especially when you're dropped and a head of fluffy black hair rounds the corner.

he's yelling words you can't understand, blood and your own heartbeat clogging the ability to hear, but you get the gist when he slams another ball into the hunter and mouths 'GO'.

a shiny portal stands a bit away, ganji trying to guide you and simultaneously protect you towards it. the opportunity arises when william, the forward, crashes into Fools Gold, communicating something towards ganji, whose hand situates itself by your hip, trying his best to tug you along.

he tries and fails to say something again before, seemingly letting out a curse; his dirty gloves are quick to grasp the sides of your face, crashing his chapped lips against your bloody ones.

before you can even utter a word, he shoves you through the portal, fiona priming the cipher on the other side before she let's go to heal you.

the exhaustion subsides while she helps you back up, whispering a command to head to the door in preparation for the pop; which you follow obediently.

in the end, it comes to a tie, you and william getting downed, trying to open the back gate, launching back to the manor with tired smiles and blood-soaked skin.

when awakened, you realize ganji sits beside your bed in your room, his now gloveless hand holding yours.

he only moves when you give his hand a squeeze and croak out a greeting. "save your strength." he grunts back, thumbing the now clean skin of your hand.

though you only respond by dragging his hand up to your lips, pressing a light kiss to the inner wrist; smiling at his cheeks growing pink.

"what was that for?" he grumbles but doesn't pull away, instead bring both his own hands to grasp yours, returning the favor by shyly peppering his own kisses along your skin.

"you started it. just wanted to get the shared feeling across." you hum, quietly giggling at his puppy faced look.

"thank you for protecting me, ganji."

[nightwonder7]

SHUT UPP NOOO IM CRYING THE GHOST AU NORTALICE..,

NORTON WILL HAVE TO LEAVE ALICE ONCE ALICE FREED NORTON'S SOUL SUGHHSHS SHE WILL BE ALONE AGAIN IMAGINE DEVELOPING MORE THEN PLATONIC FEELINGS FOR A DUDE WHO HAS BEEN DEAD FOR SO LONG GODDD.... GOD GOD NO SHE WILL BE ALONE AGAIN UNTIL THE TIME OF HER DEMISE COMES NOOOO 💔💔💔💔

AND MY QUESTION IS, how long have these ghosts been dead and what year does this ghost au take place?

:) :) :)

Indeed, it is inevitable that Norton will have to move on, and Alice will be alone again. She will have to live out her life without him and the others :') This love is doomed ;u; The only solace is that Alice knows that Norton is in a better place.

Okay but this has lead my thoughts into all sorts of directions of angst. Them not being able to touch each other, but longing to do so. Alice wanting to be in Norton's arms, and him wanting to feel her warm touch. Maybe, just maybe, Norton gets a few moments where he's able to physically interact with things (something the ghosts can sometimes do for a short period of time), and it's a moment where his hand rests upon her cheek. Even though the touch is cold, Alice closes her eyes and leans into it as they both enjoy this intimate moment. Perhaps they're even able to share a kiss once... I can picture them laying in bed together and facing each other, holding their hands close to one another in case they're able to touch again. They'd both be melancholic over the fact that one of them is dead while the other is alive, and that they come from totally different time periods. Them just reminiscing over their predicament.

Imagine they get so attached to each other that they no longer want to let the other one go. They'd probably even entertain the idea of quitting the investigation, but that would mean to jeopardize all the other ghosts' journey to rest. Alice knows that it wouldn't be fair to neither them nor Norton to keep them here. And while it hurts very much, she knows proceeding is the right thing to do. She'd be the first of the two to accept this fact. She loves Norton so much and only wants what's best for him. The best thing she can do is to create as many memories with him as she can while she still has the chance. She can at least cherish those when he's gone.

I can see Norton would have a harder time to come to terms with this. Yes, he wants his rest, but he wants to be with Alice more. The turmoil would be enough to manifest his corrupted form. As Fool's Gold he would keep Alice all to himself, and his suppressing aura wards all the other ghosts off. Only Alice would be able to calm him down from this state of intense emotions. Oh gosh, imagine his feelings for Alice becomes another binding in the curse, and the only way for everyone to move on is for him to let go of Alice. That one would be hard to break...

----

The people at the manor died at the time the canon games takes place, while the ghost AU takes place in the 2020's. So... the ghosts would have been dead for around 120-130-ish years.

[kekeiraa]

whoops. my hand slipped.

[mausoleum-letterbox]

Today, she wears beige and cream—spared, yet, from years of wear and tear.

Today, they're as new as the day she bought them, and February is a beautiful, frigid affair. Snow still sticks to the untrampled stones, not yet slush.

Pressed close to her hip, he holds to her hand—sticky child, with his fingers scrubbed free of grime. His own is barely just smaller, barely able to still be swallowed whole. His eyes watch the pendulum made by their movements ; a unit, together, a grandfather clock. It isn't until she speaks, voice muffled by the wind, voice muffled by his own distraction,

"Schavo," and he looks up.

He does not respond. His tongue is dry in his mouth, his cheeks whipped red in the blustery air. He won't respond, he thinks, in that childhood sort of stubbornness, until they're back in the cottage—tucked safely between the treeline and the shore.

Instead, he stares at her expectantly, wide eyes marveling at those that peer back. His are brown like newborn fawn, light and soft with all-seeing innocence.

Hers are tired. He doesn't yet know why.

At least her voice is lively, sing-song, in time with birds he'll grow to miss. "Schavo."

He's plenty far off from knowing how much he'll miss her, too.

Today, he turns nine, and he clings to the hem of her dress, letting her drag him about the market.

"What does my schavo wish to eat tonight?" She studies his face, dark eyes scrutinizing what pinkens in the cold. Studious, always, they betray the soft edges of her mouth. "Rabbit?" She nudges, like she's a youth all the same.

He blinks. He shrugs.

Another push, soft, her forearm or her hip. She's trying at humorous. "Maybe /hen,/ hm?"

He can feel his face contort, cold settled into browbone, creaking when he frowns. She laughs at his disgust, and he can feel the reverb burrow into his chest, leaving ache where it tunnels.

"This picky son of mine," she speaks to no one but herself—and him, who stands at her side, trembling with the weight of her judgement. A hand cards through his hair, the one not bound to carry bundles of fabric, and coils loose curls around her fingers. She'd only braided his hair this morning, and half-til-noon, it's already come undone.

He blinks back hot tears and focuses on her dress, on how he leaves marks that seep into the fabric. Sootlike, almost, as they cool with the air ; the ache in his chest drips into his gut and pools. Corrodes, then, into guilt.

"Oh, come, now," soft coo, when she realizes he's sniffling. She takes her hand from his hair, only to snake her arm around his head. Half-way hug, an embrace made all the more awkward by the way they stand by stall. "You needn't cry."

It's meant to be soft, he thinks—in the moment, relived, it's more of a chide. She presses her lips to the top of his head, but does not purse them ; settled, stitch-straight, against his crown.

She pulls away before he can bury himself in it.

"Do you want rabbit," she tries, again, as she shuffles them away from the weaver's stand, "or lamb? Sweet boy."

He blinks away what blurs her face, but fixes his eyes on the ground. He feels /brattish,/ like this, clinging to her, offering nothing.

/"Lamb,"/ He whispers, because nothing that comes from his mouth is anything but meek. Mousy boy, white as rat. "Please, dej," he adds, and buries his begging in her frock.

Again, she laughs, clucking softly as it trills. His face is hot with the shame of it.

He tries to wipe it off, the burning humiliation, tries to soften shame in the cotton on her hip.

She doesn't comfort him, this time. She turns, and he can feel cotton slip through his fingers, just as time will.

Stone-still, his little boots cemented to the road, he blocks plenty of traffic. His mother is swept away in the underbrush, or maybe she leaves with it. A dread bubbles as snot does, something he'll live day to day with, soon.

The folk that wash out all sight of her offer no kindness—glares spared, not glances, at the anchor sitting ashore. Everything blends together, people and faces, dresses and pants. Even his hiccuping, messy sobs are drowned out by the undercurrent, beat set not by the pound of his heart, but the gallop of their boots.

There's a hand in his, at some point, one that pulls him aside. The voice that must be connected to it chides a familiar word, as he struggles to shuffle in time.

"I'm sorry," he weeps, as she boxes around him, crouching to his height. Her lovely dress settles on the murky ground, and more apologies spill in time with the sway of dirtying hem. "I'm /sorry,/ dej, /I'm sorry,"/

His voice cracks, dropped porcelain, as she holds him in her arms.

/"Schavo,"/ she has to interrupt, as he presses his cheek into the crook of her neck. He seeks to hide in the warmth that she shields him with, but they both know she won't allow that. His shoulders are dwarfed by her hands. "My, Andrew, what has gotten into you?"

"I'm sorry." He's sniveling, pathetic child, as he presses the balls of his palms into his eyes. So that he might not see hers, so that he might only feel the softer side of her scorn.

This is not allowed ; she pulls his hands down, and watches, carefully, as his head lolls.

"My Andrew," her repetition is much more purposeful than his. "You were so excited to come with me, today." Her voice is sadder than it was ; he wishes he could say more than what breaks from his lips.

"I'm sorry, dej," her dress is dirty with snow, and now her shoes are painted in his tears.

She tuts, holds him, all angles and frail edges, close to her heart. "I know."

He knows he's mussing up her dress worse, even as she's fussing over his hair ; he leaves her apron stained and snotty, and she slicks his cowlicks down, toying with braids unbecoming.

"But what have you to be sorry for?" Her fingers seek to split them, undo, redo, by this stall. She doesn't, though, just lays her fingers against. "It's only supper, bakri, it isn't supposed to /scare/ you."

Just because she smiles—it doesn't wash his sour sadness away. She sighs, places palm against his cheek.

"I only want you to be happy today. It's such a /good/ day, too, all yours ; can't you do that, for this dej of yours?"

The shrug he gives is met with hardly-pitying snort. She rubs her thumb along what remains of baby fat. He grows thinner by the day, and they both know it.

"Oh, /please,/ sweet boy? Where's my happy schavo, who was so excited to come with me into town?

"Where's my sweet Selim, hm? The one who made his dej braid his hair?" She twists what remains of rowdy plaits, pushes bushy ends against his cheeks. When he laughs, a bit of shine returns to her eyes—or maybe he's blinking away what remains of his tears. He covers his eyes with his hands, again, to hide from ticklish onslaught.

"Could that son of mine gone off while I was talking to the weaver, hm? Run along to join the lambs, butting heads all the while?" Pointer taps against her chin, feigning daydream.

He snickers from beneath his fingers, peering out to see faux thought. Her smile seems more genuine, her eyes alight with a luster she loses much too often,

"No, no, my Selim is a good boy," her thumbs slip between the cracks against his face, yet she doesn't yank when she pries. "He's only hiding in plain sight!"

She scoops him up, giggling wild, and fixes him on the hip that doesn't hold bundle.

"There he is, my Selim—who doesn't have a thing to cry for, today! Too good a birthday to be ruined by some tears," a kiss to his temple, then to his cheek, until all that stings is the giddiness of grin, and his cheeks aren't stained salty any longer.

"Now, you help this mother of yours!" They're both brighter when she lowers him to his feet, and tucks tall wrappings into his hand. "You help me carry these, Andrew, and I'll carry our lamb."

And, after he nods a final time, eyes bright like the spring soon approaching, he's the one to drag her to the butcher's stall—

—

When he wakes with a startle, he finds his face is damp, his hair slick with sweat. His pillow is stained, already—

The sob that rips from his chest is violent, visceral ; the frame shakes as he does, too.

[sinisteryanderescribe]

Hello I'm curious on how Norton comfort Nurse Reader?

Norton comforting Nurse Reader pls?

Note: Hello dear sorry it took long I was very sick and had a lot of personal issues going on.

Depths Of Comfort

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The echoes of the match still reverberated through the manor, a haunting reminder of the fear and pain that had unfolded in the twisted corridors. You sat in your room, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows on the walls, your breaths ragged and hands trembling from the harrowing experience you had just endured.

Norton, stood at the threshold of your room, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and understanding. Without a word, he crossed the room to stand beside you, his presence a grounding force in the midst of turmoil.

In the dimly lit room, the male reached out a calloused hand to gently rest on your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone accustomed to the rough terrain of the manor. In that simple gesture, you felt a rush of emotions - relief, vulnerability, and a flicker of hope that you weren't alone in your pain.

With a silent nod, he settled beside you, his presence a comforting weight at your side. There was no need for words between you, for in the shared silence lay a deep understanding that transcended the horrors you had faced in the match. It was a connection forged in the depths of the manor, where words often failed to convey the magnitude of the trials you endured.

As you struggled to steady your racing heart and quell the rising tide of emotions, Norton's steady presence was a lifeline in the darkness. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a silent pact of solidarity and support, a promise that you didn't have to face the aftermath alone.

You found solace in Norton's quiet strength, a beacon of light in the shadows of the manor. His unwavering presence spoke volumes, offering a sense of comfort and understanding that cut through the chaos and fear that lingered in the air.

Norton remained by your side, a steadfast companion in the aftermath of the match. His role as a miner shone through in the way he navigated the complexities of your emotions, much like he would navigate through the treacherous passages of the manor, with caution and determination.

As you sat there, enveloped in the quiet comfort of Norton's presence, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support in the aftermath of the match. Though the black haired man hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to navigate the unfamiliar territory of offering comfort and solace to someone in need.

Despite his lack of experience with overt displays of affection, Norton's actions spoke volumes. Sensing your need for reassurance, he leaned in slightly, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of emotions that swirled around you. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Norton's usual guarded expression softened, revealing a glimpse of the caring soul that lay beneath the surface.

Taking a deep breath, Norton tentatively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, a gesture both tentative and sincere. The warmth of his touch seeped through you, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your struggles. It was a small yet profound act of comfort, one that transcended the barriers Norton had built around himself.

Feeling the weight of his arm around you, you couldn't help but lean into his touch, seeking solace in the simple act of human connection. Norton's presence, though unfamiliar in its tenderness, offered a sense of security and understanding that you desperately needed in that moment of vulnerability.

As the night deepened, Norton's instinctive need to provide comfort and solace to you grew stronger, overcoming his usual reservations about physical touch. With a subtle yet determined resolve, he gently lifted you from your seat, cradling you in his arms with a surprising ease that belied his strength as a miner.

Moving you to his lap, he settled you against his firm chest, his arms encircling your waist in a protective embrace. The contrast between his rugged exterior and the tenderness of his actions created a sense of safety and warmth that enveloped you in a cocoon of comfort.

Feeling his breath against your neck as he nuzzled his nose and face into your hair, a wave of shyness and flustered warmth washed over you. The unexpected intimacy of his touch, though not overtly sexual, stirred a gentle flutter in your chest, a mix of vulnerability and gratitude for his unspoken support.

In response to his touch, you placed a hand on his thigh, a soft and subtle gesture of reciprocity. The contact was a silent acknowledgment of the connection that had formed between you, a wordless reassurance that his touch was welcomed and reciprocated in kind.

With your hand resting on his thigh, you felt the tension in Norton's frame ease slightly, a subtle sign of his own need for comfort and closeness. In that quiet moment of shared intimacy, surrounded by the hushed stillness of the room, you found solace in the unspoken bond that had formed between you.

As the ex-miner held you close, his touch a balm to your weary soul, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to lean into his embrace, finding a sense of peace and security in the strength of his arms. The gentle rhythm of his breathing against your neck, the warmth of his body enveloping you, created a sanctuary of comfort in the midst of the chaos that had unfolded in the manor.

“Norton…” you would whisper softly, loving how his lean yet strong arms wrapped around your small form in a sort of protective yet intimate manner.

The said male would not respond but a soft raspy grunt followed by a hum. A way of informing you to stay quiet and relax on him…you knew him too well to be able to understand his language of communication.

[fishermanshook]

ASK: Hi! I'm relatively new on here and wanted to ask for a gn reader x Naib and Ganji (separately) comforting the reader after seeing them with eye bags from excessive crying and absolutely dead inside look. My apologies if it's too much, saw that the requests are open and decided to shoot my shot🙏🏻 Thank you very much either way!

WIPE YOUR TEARS, DOLL.

( mercenary & batter ) + gn!reader

˚୨🌌୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ reader has a “dead” look + feels undeserving of love , implied that reader may be a bit depressed , l/n = last name , probably a tad bit ooc , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

You can’t remember the last time you’ve cried so much that it could fill this entire manor and there still wouldn’t be enough room.

You’d blame it on the recent… position you’ve found yourself in, but can’t recall if it’s because of where you’re stuck or if you’ve just been like this ever since.

꒰wc꒱ 1.1k

✦— THE MERCENARY ; NAIB SUBEDAR

Naib is initially suspicious, taking note of the (more or so) deceased-looking appearance you’ve been wearing recently, alongside the ever-growing eye bags that only continue to darken as the nights go on. It’s a strange sight indeed, but one he quickly dismisses as a “lack of sleep” type thing.

↳ it doesn’t help that you fall right into the trope as well. Naib watches as you stumble and trip over your feet during games, zone out during pre-match, and just so happens to find your sleeping form anywhere he looks. He lets out a sigh, (gently) picks up your limp body, and brings you back to his humble abode. The Mercenary is so preoccupied with getting you back to his room that he fails to notice your light sniffling and the dried tears near the corners of your eyes.

Okay, this has been going on for far too long now and isn’t something that he can let slide by anymore. So that’s how it started, hand in hand, cause he knew that something was amidst. Truthfully, maybe being blunt wasn’t the exact way to go, but he needed to coax you out somehow. What he didn’t expect (which you can’t exactly blame him for) was for you to break out into tears the moment you tried to speak about it.

↳ he has to admit, you completely caught him off guard the moment you threw yourself into his arms, tears staining his green jacket. He takes a second to adjust, but the moment he does, he’s raking his fingers through your hair and rocking the two of you back and forth. [just the way his mother used to when he would wake up from nightmares.]

When you eventually calm down, his hands find solace on your shoulders, pleading for you to enlighten him on just how the hell you’ve been feeling lately. He takes a thumb to your face to wipe away the stray tears while you clean the snot from your nose. He won’t tell you, but he’s slightly hurt that you never came to talk to him about this, especially as he sees that it’s affecting you badly.

You cave in his hands as you explain to him that your nights are only filled with staining your pillows with your tears. The little sleep you get comes from your tiredness knocking you out. It’s devastating to hear your pain and suffering, and all Naib can do is listen and hold your hand.

The Mercenary can only sigh before bringing you in for a hug once more, placing soft, gentle kisses on the top of your head. He doesn’t want to cry in front of you, but you feel a few cold droplets of water hit your shoulder. His first words are an incoherent mess before you can finally make out something.

“[name] [l/n], I am your lover. You are my everything. Please, the next time you feel this way know that you are more than capable of coming to me for help.”

↳ He loves you so much that seeing you in this mental state puts him in pain as well. You’re the first to break down his walls in ages, the last one being his friends from the war. The Mercenary can’t risk losing you too.

From that moment forward, you find yourself coming to Naib’s dorm room more often than not, accompanied by your teary eyes and sleep-deprived body. He holds you close as he gently massages the top of your head, making sure you fall asleep first.

Slowly but surely, he watches as your old self emerges all over again. The dark bags under your eyes dissipate while your energy returns to your once-withered body. The Mercenary keeps a close eye on you from there on out, making sure that you never fall down that rabbit hole again. But, if you were to spiral out once more, know that Naib will do everything in his power to break you free.

✦— THE BATTER ; GANJI GUPTA

Ganji holds a slight bit of overprotectiveness towards you, especially when the two of you make it official. That’s why he beats himself over the fact that he didn’t put more thought into just why you might have those dark circles hidden underneath your eyes.

               ↳ Your eyes are constantly watery. Your nose, almost nonstop running. You look as if you're about to sob out a tsunami at this rate. You say it’s just your allergies. The pollen outside plus Victor's dog make for a deadly concoction against your senses. At first, his brain reasons with himself, stating that it's a valid reason. But he’s been with you for so long that his heart argues against itself and before you know it, he catches you red-handed.

Your dorm room door is unlocked, a bad habit of yours that Ganji may or may not have scolded you over before. Something about safety and privacy and blah blah blah. The door will be your downfall, but one that will reveal a much-needed truth.

↳ He finds your face stuffed into your pillow, tear stains decorating your cheeks with a light pink hue. You’ve tired yourself and fell asleep ages ago, sleep you so desperately needed. The Batter decides to make room for himself on the bed as well, resting your head on his lap. That way, the two of you can talk this out when you wake up.

You wake up in his lap, unaware of the truth he’s just uncovered. As the Batter rubs his thumb over your stained cheeks, you instantly realize that, oh, he knows now. You can’t stop the small tears that start to flow once again, but Ganji is quick to help wipe them away, planting a small kiss on your cheek.

“Love, you need to reach out for help when this kind of stuff happens, especially if it only continues. Please, don’t feel as if you’d only be a burden. Anyone who feels or thinks that can go kick it.”

There are nights when the loneliness of your bed becomes too much too bare, and you make the trek to seek out comfort from your already asleep boyfriend. Little do you know, he’s already awake and ready for you with a cup of sleepy tea. [Thank you, Emily.] The two of you fall asleep together, hand in hand.

Your next matches are wins as he watches the spark return to your eyes once more. Still, he keeps a few packets of that tea near his nightstand. That way, if you ever needed to fall back asleep, all it would take is one tea bag.

note: BYE this got rushed a bit in Ganji’s part I’m so sorry, I wanted to do him justice but my ass needed to pass tr out RN…anyways enjoy fishies 🫵😚

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[ithaqualovers]

Hanging Out With Ithaqua

Angst... Maybe??? plus comfort? UhHh (Sorry for not posting a while y'all tsk tsk) SHORT!! //Please tell me if theres a few grammar and error mistakes '^'`// I MADE THIS AT 2 AM

Tonight, there was a lot of snow falling. Then suddenly, a snowball hit your window that got your attention. You got up to see what was happening. When you opened the window and the wind blew inside, a gust of air filled your room, and then you saw Ithaqua. "Oh, that silly bastard. What does he want?" You thought. 

“Psssst, hey!” Ithaqua called “I want to go out and have fun with you.” His cloak swayed against the cold breeze of the wind. 

“You want to see a secret beneath these woods? Come on! I know you're going to say yes to me...” “How did you know that I will agree with you?” You chuckled at your words and looked at the male. 

“No need to sound surprised. Come on, we are wasting a night for you to stay in your room!” He insisted. “It'll be more fun for me too!” At your hesitation, Ithaqua's voice grew more irritated. “... Ithaqua's getting impatient here!” He grunted. You knew you couldn't just stay in this situation. “Fine! Fine!” You grabbed your cloak and put it on. “Just.. help me get out of this... window—” Ithaqua put his hand to you. “You should have just... used your door... But anyway, grab my hand first.” He gave you a small helping gesture and pulled you out of the window. “Now follow me!” He whispered silently. There was a small trail near that spot and Ithaqua began walking fast as his stilts were making clacking sounds against the snow-covered ground. “Wait up! where are we actually going?” You raised a brow as you asked him a question as you two walked through the forest. Ithaqua glanced back to make sure you were still following him. As you two were walking, Ithaqua got a small stick in the snow. “We are near a big spot that I want to show you.” Ithaqua took your hand secretly and continued walking on a small trail. 

“You know I never told you why me and my mother live in these woods? Do you wonder why we live here?” 

“Why?” You raised a brow and you never really wondered for a long time why Ithaqua and his mother lived together in these woods. “This is a long story, but do not worry...” He stopped at a certain place, turned to you, and put his free hand on the back of your neck. “My mother found me near this place. It was the darkest night, and she was running from the law. As she was running, she saw a lifeless body like mine—I was like a pale corpse without any signs of life. And she made me live again.” The area was filled with trees and silence. You listened to him, and you were a bit shocked. 

“... How do you still remember your past...?” 

“If you only knew the things Mother taught me. I'll never forget it.” Ithaqua chuckled and continued walking. “Anyway, that's why Mother took care of me and why we live in these woods.” The woods were getting darker. You slowly nodded and looked up at the night sky. A single star twinkled in the darkness, and in that moment, you felt a sense of peace. You turned to Ithaqua. “Far away from civilization, am I correct?” Ithaqua nodded. “Yes. I was taught by Mother that civilization is... dangerous.” He was still walking with you towards one destination. 

“Mother isn't very fond of people...” Ithaqua said. You narrowed your eyes at Ithaqua. “Yes, because the people will suspect her of being a witch.” You spoke. Then suddenly Ithaqua glared at you. “... What did you just say?” Ithaqua's eyes furrowed, as he put his free hand on the back of your neck and tilted your chin toward him. His face was now near yours. “Where did you hear that from, Y/N?” You hesitated, unsure of what to say. You knew you couldn't lie to Ithaqua, he could always tell. Taking a deep breath, you finally replied, “I heard people talking about it in town...” 

“So... People think Mother is a witch. And you believed in those things they said...? Witches are not real, Y/N.” Ithaqua said sarcastically. His free hand now gently squeezed your chin softly. "Those are just made from their stupidity." The corners of his lips were curled down, and he was frowning at your hesitation. “Mother has been nice to me. She's kind and gentle.” Your e/c eyes stared into his blue eyes beneath the almond-shaped eyeholes mask. “Ithaqua... Of course, I do not believe them.” You tried to calm him down. “I do not believe what the town said, Ithaqua... I am very sorry, and I did not mean to say that... I am sorry.” You said in a nervous tone. Ithaqua let go of your chin and looked down. His face suddenly cleared from any expression. No smile, no frown, no anger. He was just staring at you. “Oh,” He muttered and turned away. After a while, Ithaqua held your hand and continued walking to a place. “You know, despite Mother's worries, I never felt a chill near her. I am always feeling the warm presence of a mother next to me.” Ithaqua said in a serious tone. You looked at Ithaqua in disbelief, not sure what to make of his words. You were about to say something but forget about it. After a while, the two arrived at the right spot. It was a small clearing in the woods with a single, giant tree in the middle. Ithaqua took your hand and made you stand close to him, in the spot. 

“Look up.” 

“Huh?” You looked up at the large tree that Ithaqua was talking about a while ago. Then you noticed something in the snow under the tree. It was a bunch of snowmen with two leaves on their heads that looked like ears and most of them looked oddly the same. “I made them for you, Y/N.” He said softly. You smiled at him, understanding his gesture. He had made all these snowmen for you, to show how much he cared. “... Thank you, Ithaqua.” You smiled warmly. “They are... adorable. They are very nice.” He smiled back at you, feeling content that you liked his gift. “Ah, you are welcome.” He gave you his cute smile again behind the mask. “The night isn't over yet.” He held your hand again. 

“I wanted to show you something else, too...” 

“Hm? What is it?” 

“Just follow me.” He walked again with you holding his hand. Soon, the two of you climbed to the top of the large tree branch. "Take a look over there." He whispered and pointed in a specific direction. “Huh, where?” You were a bit confused as you looked around. Ithaqua chuckled softly then his voice grew intense, and he looked at you, making sure you followed his instructions by looking in the same direction. “Just... take a look. You'll see something interesting. That spot where I pointed, right there.” The spot was very close to where you two were. You suddenly saw a light and it was the town. It was beautiful from afar, the colours of the light of the place blending together in the night sky. “Oh... The town...?” Ithaqua's face seemed serious while staring at it. He let go of your hand. His cold breath was now fogging up. His eyes were filled with some sort of disappointment. He seemed to be lost in thought for what seemed like a long time. What happened to him? After Ithaqua let out a deep sigh, he snapped back to the reality. “Do you think they'll ever welcome Mother in that civilization, Y/N?” He finally asked you. You looked at Ithaqua with a shock expression, you already felt how much he was struggling. Due to the few years ago when the incident happened... You didn't know what to say. You felt like you wanted to say the right thing, but you couldn't find the words. Suddenly he looked away, his gaze now fixed on the horizon. His voice was hollow when he whispered, “Never mind... Forget about it, it was just.. a silly thought.” Ithaqua chuckled nervously and breath heavily. You could see the disappointment in his eyes. He sighed again and leaned against the trunk. “So much snow fell tonight. The cold wind seems to remind me of something...” He sounded deep. “It feels... peaceful here.” He mumbled. He looked back at your face. You looked at him, unsure of what to say. 

“Y/N...” Ithaqua hesitated. 

“Huh?” You raised a brow. 

“You know... I really trust you because you are my only best friend, right?” 

“Yeah?” 

“And I... do not mean to be... intrusive, but...” His face turned serious and his eyes seemed deep. 

“Could you help me with one thing?” 

“Sure, what is it?” 

Ithaqua hesitated for a moment. “Can you... hug me? And stay with me for a while?” He finally spoke up. But he sounded a tiny bit desperate... You let out a sigh and smiled warmly, then you opened your arms and immediately hugged him tightly. You held him close and you could feel him shaking in your arms. Ithaqua felt a sudden calmness when you hugged him. He put his free hand behind your collar to pull you closer. His cold hands, but they still felt welcoming. “Thank you.” he said softly as he put his head down on top of your head, breathing slowly. “You are welcome, Ithaqua.” You saw him close his eyes. A peaceful, silent night, full of falling snow, and a feeling of peace. You felt so comfortable while hugging Ithaqua. You never felt this welcome somewhere else, even in your home. But it was different with Ithaqua. 

“You are the only person I have... Y/N. Do not ever leave me...” 

[memebirb66]

REALLY old artwork from twitter (~ a year ago) (also human(?) fan wujiu before redesign hope you understand)

[mintytealfox]

*inhales* Norton took the job because he has early stage of black lungs disease

;kajbdgf;ajbdg;ajbga/jgd O H NOOOOOOOOOO

are you saying what I think you're saayyiinnnggggg ?????? 😭😭😭

That he took the job cause he was dying anyway ?? HUUUHHH?? HHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHH AND THAT HE IS JUST TRYING TO LIVE WHHAT LIFE HE CAN

SO MIGHT AS WELL GO OUT RICH AND FREE EVEN THOUGH IT WONT BE FOR LONG AND EVEN THOUGH IT COSTS HIS MORALS/WHO HE IS???

AND WHY HE KEEPS HARPING ABOUT 'I WILL BE THE ONE WHO LIVES LONG' CAUSE HE IS JUST CONSTANLY LYING TO HIMSELF ALL THE TIME ALREADY????

I CANNTTTTT 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

NORRRTTOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN