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 š¦ā°ļø
eli clarkš¦
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.
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 carlā°ļø
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.
i thought i would finally finish my last remaining request but my tumblr app suddenly tweaked for no reason whatsoever and i lost minimally 30 minutes if not an hour worth of progress i'm THIS close to punching a hole in the wall
IF SOMEONE KNOWS HOW TO RECOVER DRAFT PROGRESS P L E A S E HIT ME UP IM GOING TO CRY ššššš
Can i request an Matthias Czernin x Fem Hunter Reader scenario: Where he was in a match against her (known as a new Hunter with a pet wolf that helps her hunt down survivors, including attacking them) and during a chase, he accidentally knocks her mask off, which he expected something terrifying at first after the reader's face was revealed, but turns out that her face was surprisedly normal and pretty. When he called her beautiful, it caught the reader off guard and gets flattered?
ofc!! i was a bit out of ideas but i think it ended up okay ToT
also MY FIRST MATTHIAS ASK YAYYY
matthias czernin: scenario...šŖ
cut for length!
the ciphers are popping at a disturbingly fast pace. it must be the prisoner's doing - you roll your eyes in annoyance. that zapping pest was too smart for his own good. he trips over his own feet during a kite but when sat in front of a cipher machine it's like his brain starts working out of a sudden.
however, the prisoner was not your current priority. you were more focused on getting the first kill - and your target for these past 3 ciphers has been the puppeteer.
one of the (relative) newcomers, the puppeteer, fit into the category of survivors that just made you pity them in a match. half of his face has been tattered and covered in what seemed to be ashes, from his left eye only the eye socket remained. not to mention his brutally chapped lips, still unhealed wounds ripping his skin apart and the general state of the left half of his body. it made you think about how he's even allowed to compete.
you quickly found out the answer today, when you decided to chase him first. despite how disheveled he looked he held himself up well, albeit distressed compared to the older survivors - getting used to the games is a process. he barely looked back while kiting, only stealing a few shy looks at you as you destroyed the pallets or vaulted the windows. he kept on resisting, using that creepy doll to his bidding. whenever you thought you'd finally land a hit - wrong! it would sacrifice itself for him, even if it meant risking a chip of damage.
he couldn't loop you forever. he quicky deplenished all of the resources in the kiting area he transitioned to. the windows? blocked with your confined space. there was no other option but to transition again. in this moment, you saw an opportunity - now that he's in the open, it's the perfect chance to catch him off guard. you pat the wolf following your tracks, your trusty companion who didn't have time to shine in this match yet. you crouched down slightly, pointing at matthias who was trying to reach at the pallets in front of him. it took merely a second, and the giant wolf was already pacing, eyes on the prize. the puppeteer wasn't the only one with toys at his disposal. his speed was no match for the wolf's, and, in panic, he turned around and started running towards you instead.
you furrowed your brow. is he going for a juke? he didn't have any remaining chips of health to spare. you swung at him, he took a step back. it looked like a silly cat-and-mouse game, you desperate for the first kill, matthias clinging onto every remaining second of his kite as if your victory wasn't already at low odds. the fourth cipher popped - damn you, balsa! you grit your teeth and started swinging more aggressively. with your other hand, you pulled your mask down a bit. this might get messy.
it seemed like matthias was starting to give in. his jukes now became more luck than skill. you massaged your right arm, tired from constant swinging. it was a green light for the kiter - he started to run right towards you. the last cipher is definetly being primed! you weren't going to bite the bait now. you must trick him somehow and force a bad cipher pop. you abruptly stood up - your first mistake - and turned without looking, having lost sight of matthias. then you took a step back - second mistake - and bumped straight into him, him who was running circles around you. you waved your hands in attempt to find balance, but your weapon was too heavy and pulled you to the ground along with it.
it was a relief it wasn't a veteran who kited you, because a scene like this would become a thing of legend on the survivors' side. a comical sight, indeed. your body splayed on the grounds of the arms factory, weapon thrown aside, your pet wolf crying with its tail between its hind legs. and most importantly, your face was now fully bare, your mask now probably lost in the ruins around you. you made an attempt to sit up, but there wasn't a single bit of energy inside your body that would make that possible. honestly, you just wanted to curl up and cry right now. this has been such an embarrassing match.
the puppeteer didn't budge an inch. he looked at you from a distance, a concerned expression on his face. to be fair, a sight like this was one of a kind, even for the older residents. after seeing you're not a threat to him anymore, he started creeping towards you slowly. newfound courage ran through his body as he bent down, placing his shaky hands on his knees. the one remaining eye of his slowly ran its course from your legs up to your face. he seemed fascinated and even relieved. you noticed how his stare lingered on your face. an asymmetrical smile appeared under the stitches and slits covering his lips. it's a rare opportunity for survivors to see the hunters up close, especially the masked ones - you and jack to name a few. and without their mask, to top it off? he shall savor a moment like this, especially once he realised the mask wasn't hiding gnarly, bloodied scars or a mauled face.
"pretty." this or a similar word escapes matthias' mouth, obviously intended for himself and himself only. to his dismay, he was too close to you for that to be kept private. you turn your head in surprise at the bold remark, not expecting that at all from the silent, sheepish brunette. he jumps at your reaction and puts his gloved hand over his mouth, realizing you heard him loud and clear. you finally prop yourself up with one hand and cover your face with the other - both to conceal your identity again and hide your flustered expression. matthias draws back just in case you decide to attack again, but you turn away from him. you'll get the puppeteer next time, there's a tie that has to be clutched... and hopefully those mouth stitches of his will do their job properly.
if they don't, you might as well spend every upcoming dinner inside your room.
hi! Is it okay if I ask for Andrew Kreiss with a reader thatās very shy and obedient and quiet? Like, I can imagine Andrew having to ask what reader has said because theyāre very silent! Thank you very much! I love your work!
hellohello, of course!! and thank you šš
andrew kreiss with a very shy s/o hcsšø
i fear both of you are at a disadvantage now :,)
andrew can't stand up for himself, let alone anyone else... he's so conflicted because he gets paralyzed in any social situation YET he can't simply leave you alone to fight for yourself. that would be too cruel.
when he first met you, already so flustered and anxious, he felt bad on multiple occasions when he had to ask you to repeat what you just said or raise your voice a bit
if there's someone as shy as andrew in the room, there's two possibilities: either he'll take a step back into the shadows or - the rare alternative - try to help the person out of pity. it's going to be the latter, obviously. if someone cares for him he'll pay them back x10, one way or another, even if it means putting himself in uncomfortable situations here and there
you two often walk together, hand in hand, like an awkward teenage couple at prom. it's to combat anxiety, but you keep attracting unwanted attention from the other residents that gush over how clumsy and cute you are together
does the thing all tall ppl do when you're speaking. since he's pretty tall, standing at 5'11 (179cm), he bends down to your level so he can hear you better
to sum it up, you two cling onto each other for support. two minuses make a plus amirite
i've mentioned this before but andrew is a very panicky person, and would always ask you if everything is okay if you don't speak for a prolonged period of time
he just needs a lil reassurance from time to time and it would hurt him to find that he's the reason you're upset okok :c
not exactly raised with great manners but will try his best to treat you like a gentleman, think kissing your hand and escorting you to the matching room every time the two of you are separated. it's unlike him and the behavior might come as a surprise, but he's a sappy loser and just wants to be a great partner (and be regarded as one, after all)
just quality time as the primary love language between you two. no pressure to talk, and it can quickly turn into physical touch if the both of you are comfortable with it. he'd be more than happy you wanted to or even initiated it
often brushes your hair away from your face instead of checking in with a question. since he knows you're timid, he'd rather see your expression instead of prodding you to talk if you don't want to at the moment
surprise hugs from behind yayyy!!!!! he's protective of people he loves and in his eyes he kind of "shields" you from everyone else
has a large frame and wide shoulders so it DOES feel like equipping a large shield, especially when he wraps his long arms around you and his hair brushes against your skin. this way he's both close to your mouth and your body. surprise him with a kiss this way and he'll cover his mouth in fluster
Hello there, can i request an Norton Campbell x fem reader scenario: Where she comforts him after he wakes up from a nightmare?
delivered (after too long, my apologies) š«” i also adore how norton became the poster boy of idv as of fg's release
norton campbell; comforting him after a nightmareš§²
cut for length! š«§
~
it's three in the morning.
and you're still by your desk.
procrastination inevitably turned back on you after a long afternoon of dozing off, and so your eyes were glued onto the remaining paperwork which was due tomorrow. ten minutes have passed, then twenty, then thirty, then an hour, but the papers still laid blank in front of you. just lifting up the ink pen took serious effort and whatever you wanted to write seemed not good enough and sloppy. the workspace was flashing through your half-lidded eyes and you were beginning to question the possibility of submitting your work in time.
right now, you'd give anything to be in your boyfriend's shoes. he came back from a match sometime during the evening, took a warm everything shower and went to bed by the following hour. he hogged up all the pillows and both the duvets, only a few unruly strands of his hair peeking between the covers. not only was he taking up the whole bed, he was also turning around constantly, interrupting the few moments of concentration you found during these ungodly hours. you inhaled sharply and, just for a second, contemplated throwing your toiletry bag at him.
just as you turned around, you heard him start to groan. you hissed under your breath, both annoyed and worried. it's not uncommon for him to roll around while asleep - you sometimes woke up with small, random bruises from his elbowing - but he wasn't the type to sleepwalk or talk. wearily, you approached him, in hopes of calming him down so you can get back to work.
it wasn't too hot inside the room, but he was sweating profusely and breathing heavily, as if he was trying to breathe in as much air as possible at once. you reached for his back under the covers - his shirt was soaked. you opened the window and pulled back the duvet to help him cool down, but to no avail. he scrunched his nose, furrowed his eyebrows and yanked it back while half-asleep. you sighed again. this is going to take more than it should, you thought.
seeing him like that - restless and out of breath - did make you feel bad about him, though. perhaps comforting him would help him calm down. you ran your fingers through his hair, pulled back the few wet strands sticking to his face, but it was a proper workout. you couldn't keep up with the way his body jerked and how quickly he flipped over again and again. you were starting to get paranoid - these turns started to look more like spasms. already panicking, you grabbed his arm and started to shake him.
it didn't take long for him to wake up. he quickly sat up, as if he was struck by lightning, and took a few moments to start breathing normally again. his eyes were foggy and unfocused, and only a bit later did he turn towards you, not looking at you directly.
"nort, are you okay?" you asked him, relieved but still worried for him. he was in such a stupified state that you didn't actually expect him to answer, you just threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you.
"mmfh. i'm okay. just a night terror or something like that." he replied quietly and threw himself back onto the bed. he was lying flat on his back, arms spread like an eagle, staring right at the ceiling. you laid next to him, wiping the remaining sweat with a paper tissue. "are you sure? want me to bring you a glass of water?" you asked him, still a bit surprised by how quickly he got over whatever was disturbing him a minute ago. "i'm good, thank you." he said and turned on his side, now face to face with you. "it was the mine again. y'know already, i told you a few times about it. me and some other guys from the area, explosives, pickaxes, piles of rocks and stuff like that", he spoke, drawing circles with his finger on your stomach, "i could almost feel the stench of the TNT. how disgusting that was! each time i dream of it, it becomes more vivid. i almost thought it was for real tonight."
"you have these kinds of nightmares quite often, nort. i'm actually suprised you get any sleep." you mumbled, concerned.
"they do shake me up. back then, when the memory was still fresh, i'd cry every time. they were persistent, and it seemed like what i saw there would haunt me every night without mistake. but... i'd say they subdued once i moved in with you, ___." he scrunched his lips into a half-grin, boyish and a little insecure. you knew he was quite awkward with stuff like this, being a little vulnerable and showing spine in ways other than being rough and untouchable. you smiled at him instead of responding and pulled him up onto yourself, gently stroking his back. you knew he didn't like drawing out conversations like these - he dumps whatever has been bothering him for a while and that's it. pushing him to open up a bit more will just result in the opposite.
"you should go back to sleep again. i think you've had enough stress for tonight."
"don't you have work to do?"
"it can wait. i'll cram whatever's left in the morning. it's healthier than pulling an all-nighter."
he squirmed in your arms, placing a chaste kiss on your neck.
"thank you, ___." he whispered after a few moments. your beloved's head buried in your chest, his entire weight pressing on your upper body. you embraced the ever-present warmth of his and quickly fell asleep against him. the window remained open, and the cold breeze blew at you two. with intertwined limbs and hearts now at peace, you fell to slumber - a much needed repose for both.
Hi! I hope your having a good day/night wherever you are š«¶
I was wondering if you could maybe write some friends to lovers head cannons with Ganji and Eli?
hello!! you too anonš (like. 5 months later but oh well :c )
this is such a cute prompt HEEHEE >W<
ganji gupta and eli clark friends to lovers hcsšš¦
ganji guptaš
he likes company but doesn't like initiating hangouts. he's a man of few words, most of them reserved for when there's really no other option other than to communicate verbally
whenever you two sit together he always gets a bit restless and fidgety. if you try to bring up the topic he'll just brush it off, saying it's nothing to worry about
he can't EVER discern if he likes somebody or if he's just anxious and it literally swallows him whole. thinking about verbalizing what he feels or physical closeness makes him feel a bit dizzy so he just pushes these thoughts to the back of his brain until they eventually resurface again
gets a tad distant, being a bit rude and brash as a defense mechanism
shows his care by being (over)protective, especially in matches. when he sees you in danger it's like he's seeing red, leaving hunters bruised from his aggressive swings. he says he's overprotective in general, that you're not special and that he treats you like he would anyone else, but it hurts to say that when he thinks the exact opposite
confess first. or, at least, hint at doing so. it's not gonna get to his head unless you say it first, directly, no buts or ifs - only then will he realize that hey, maybe i should stop denying myself romantic attraction?
your first few dates are a bit awkward. you two are a *thing* now, but he doesn't understand the new boundaries your relationship sets. is it really alright to hold your waist in front of everyone?
just give him some time until he gets comfortable, it takes time for him to drop the stoic persona
his first kisses are sloppy. he initiates them slowly and without much confidence, hands trembling as they bring you closer and he plants his warm lips against the corner of your mouth - he still doesn't dare to go lips-to-lips. they make for a good laugh afterwards, him nervously grinning at his own anxiety.
is almost shocked when you return the favor, maybe even more eagerly than him. slowly kiss his temples, rub the back of his head with care and he's paralyzed under your hands, his mind wandering away beneath your tender touches
his most cherished moments with you are spent in complete silence. the feeling of unconditional love contained within a comfortable silence is indispensable, and just the fact that he doesn't have to strain himself with small talk and expressing things he can't actually describe feels great
eli clarkš¦
victory or loss, no matter his mood, whenever you call upon eli clark his head turns towards you in a second. his face is completely covered - save for his mouth and nose - but his lips are always curled into a soft smile
the cloaked seer enjoys solitude and spends most of his free time in it. he's softspoken, but always a tad gloomy and breathless
yet it doesn't take much to creep under his skin. a few kind words will quickly put him at ease and, encouraged by your own openness, he won't hesitate to be straightforward with you
spending so much time pondering and overthinking, he can't help but notice his feelings towards you. well, they might not be feelings by the traditional definition, but what other word can describe the tingles he feels when he hears your voice from behind, when you creep upon him? or the surge of heat in his abdomen while he's slowly making his way towards you, watching your expression change through brooke's eyes?
he confesses first. definetly. it'll take him a few days to devise a plan, to find the best spot and time to confess and phrase his thoughts, but it wouldn't take long during your friendship for it to happen. he's a bit of a romantic at heart and can easily get swayed by affection
most of his ways of expressing affection are through small PDA. tenderly holding your hand or your waist, rubbing your shoulders after a tense match or holding you from the back. he's a literal heat machine! has so much layers on and it feels really good to lay back against him in response. you can easily wrap the remaining fabric around yourself, too
only takes off his hood and blindfold a bit further into the relationship. he's so used to them masking his true appearance that taking them off in front of others makes him feel vulnerable
asks the WEIRDEST questions and says the most random stuff on dates. literally no filter. who knows where his mind actually goes while you talk to him?
likes when you get touchy with him :,) rub his hips (they're kinda sore and he often has to crack them like knuckles, it's hard to carry so many bags and pouches around his waist ok!!), mess with his hair, trace your fingers around his face, whisper him the dumbest things up-close into his ear, hell, even bite him if you want to! has insomnia anyways and any kind of stimulation helps him fall asleep. he just turns into a happy human blob
i started this account in 2022, at the end of freshman year, not even knowing how much it'll grow over the next 2 years. i even have a post that (somehow) surpassed 1k notes!!! š
sadly my idv phase has slowly been stagnating and it's hard to get back into the game after at least 2 years of non-stop grinding - not to mention my school being very demanding. on top of all that i've been extremely burned out from literally everything, including writing, but i'll hopefully get over it during the summer break.
despite my inactivity, THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING ME!! i constantly get notifications for likes, follows and reblogs and it means so much to me. thank you for supporting my blog, my shitty fics and headcanons and patiently keeping up with my horrible motivation and schedule š„¹š„¹š„¹šš this summer i'll try my best to give back all the love i've received and finally empty my inbox.
I'm so happy the requests are open again (I was waiting for this šš)
I hope exam season went well!!
Anyways,I'm back (if you still remember me smh) with a platonic request!!
Can I just have platonic Jack,Charles Holt (i think you write for him),Percy,and Burke any person of your choice (you can remove or replace some if it's too much/you dony write for them) with a child reader that's really paranoid,is scared of everyone and everything,and has just a deep backstory,for example with bad parents,and like a big brother who is a psychopath or smth (idk I made that up on the spot,you can change it if you'd like!!) kinda warming up to them,following them around like a lost puppy and just crying when they aren't there?
I hope it's not too complicated and made sense,and that you have a fantastic day!!
AHH HELLO FINALLY RESPONDING TO THIS REQ!!! sadly i'm stuck in an endless loop of exam seasons but so far i have all As!! B) partially the reason i've been inactive here, i'm working quite hard on my education this year!
of course i remember and i shall deliver - have a great day! <3
he warms up to you quite quickly. in his opinion, you can hide away behind him as much as you want and he'll gladly hold your hand whenever you want him to - just be careful not to cut yourself on his blades
i don't think jack is much of a listener. he just sees you curled up and sad and can't help but pity you, so little and innocent. who could have possibly wanted to harm such a precious little thing like you?
a bit tone-deaf in situations like these, i think he'd even baby you here and there. he's so determined to take good care of you he goes a bit overboard sometimes
as i mentioned before, he's more action-oriented in cases like these. despite the gravity of the situation his manner of speech remains light and even gleeful. in his eyes, now that you're with him there's no reason to worry anymore. he doesn't want to make you even sadder than before!
the type of caretaker to carry you around at all times and pick you up whenever he notices you're upset. in doubt? carry the lil kid on your shoulders
charles holtāļø
this man definetly has some fearful-avoidant attachment thing going on with him. at first he's awfully uncomfortable, seeking every possible moment to avoid you. he's not a bad guy - he just doesn't know how to react in situations like these and copes by escaping them as soon as he gets the opportunity.
on top of that, he has never been good with kids.
he pities you, though :( i think he'd see some part of his younger self in you and that would really rub salt into his wound
he talks to you in the same way that he talks to adults, except the occasional "little guy/little fella" and bends over/crouches whenever he talks so you two are at the same level
also the type to pick you up when he notices you're crying :( in general he's much more responsive once you two get closer, often patting your head and back in an attempt to comfort you
grab his hand *once* and he just follows along with you. no questions asked
he didn't get much attention as a kid so he's kind of projecting in the form of giving you all the affection he didn't receive, albeit shyly
percyš§āāļø
percy often uses his muteness to his advantage, playing deaf just so he can avoid the other residents and quicky return to his solitude. he knows it's bad but he literally experimented on cadavers, he's not below that.
yet he can't pretend forever.
something that percy copes the worst with (after his resurrection) is guilt. seeing you so upset, seeking any sort of comfort from the manor residents makes something inside of him break. probably not his heart, rather something more human that he can't exactly pinpoint.
not big on physical affection, instead guiding you with an occasional tap on the back or simply pointing towards something. he also communicates with you with his gaze - it has been, for the most part, drained of humanity, but the way he furrows his brows and blinks slowly makes you think he's trying to push the few remaining bits of empathy through his eyes, in hopes you'll understand what he wants to say to you.
likes going on walks with you after dinner. mostly through the corridors of the manor, straight to the garden where you two sit to catch a breather and appreciate the blooming plants
burke lapadurašØ
probably the most responsible (in a way) out of the four here tbh
the most communicative out of them too - when he's not preoccupied with his machines, he's a solid listener and provides his own insight and advice. often it's a bit too much for you since you're quite young, but he's trying his best ok :(
believes good food can soothe anything! he's not the type to cook hearty meals (do NOT let this man into the kitchen) but he always keeps some cookies in his workshop in case you visit
awkward with any sort of physical touch so he compensates with quality time. if the weather is nice enough he may propose a short fishing trip or flying kites in the backyard
the way he sees it, distracting yourself from your past trauma is the best way to cope with it. never mentions your upbringing unless you want to talk about it - he wants to create as much happy memories with you, even if it means spoiling you with new machines and toys
hi! could i get more details about commissioning you for the emma skin? would you be doing regular hcs for it, or are you open to write a fic or something?
of course!
since it's a commission, especially considering skins are more expensive than characters etc etc i'd be up for a fic, although only an one shot (this doesn't limit its length!). i'd also include a list of headcanons for up to 4 characters you want (around 30-40 for each chara for an A tier skin definetly, depending on how broad the prompt is).
since you're commissioning, you're automatically put on the top of my priority list and your request will be posted before any other in my inbox. payment/gift first - sorry, but it's very risky for me, and i hope it's understandable. you can contact me any time during the commission to ask questions, and i'll reply in a day max!
Ello can I request a Norton Fools good x fem reader where she came across the blown up mines and sees Norton (in his hunter form) sheās scared at first but starts to recognise him and slowly starts to approach him reaching her hand up to cub his cheeks ( bro this man needs all the love! )
HOO BOY i agree tho... his release made me regain my interest in nortonš«”š«”
[not to be a scum but i'm still open for sanrio emma comms btwšš]
fool's gold: imagine...āļø
cut for length!
paying the bills has become a hellish cycle. break your back to pay off the expenses, relax for the following twenty-ish days, and be sent into frenzy again, not knowing if you're going to have a roof over your head tomorrow or not.
you found yourself hopelessly skimming through newspaper, looking for any job offer possible that would easen up the burden on your wallet. The paper was plastered with offers from bars, post offices and restaurants, but those were a always gamble. will you get your wage or not? and if you will, when? too much effort for something so high-risk.
at last, a small offer in the corner of the page caught your attention. pressed in miniscule letters, it said: MINE RESEARCH. EMPLOYEES URGENTLY NEEDED. EQUIPMENT PROVIDED. underneath the text, an attractive number: $15,000 payed off immediately after the job is done.
not only could this solve the rent for the following 3 months, you'd also have some money left for yourself! you rang the number the second you got home and successfully scored the job, due to the urgency of the situation.
it took you a day or two to start thinking about the job. what do you exactly need to know for mine research? probably at least some physical strength and stamina, you thought. surely it can't be too complex.
you arrived at the mine right on time, the sun slowly slipping back into the horizon to let the moon take center stage. to your dismay, you realized no one else applied for the job. maybe this wasn't a good idea after all? crawling through the narrow, rocky terrain all alone doesn't sound like the ideal scenario. no living being in sight, and 20 minutes have already went by.
still, that money is way too good to pass up. you picked up one of the yellow helmets piled up at the entrance, prayed to whatever god out there that your flashlight has enough power to last the following 2 hours and mindlessly rushed into the collapsing mine.
for the following 10 minutes, your sight unfocused while your mind took the lead, in front of and all around you just rocks and grime, shadows dispelled by the flashlight held by your hip like a lance. only after a good 5 minutes of running did you realize that you, in fact, have no idea what you're supposed to do. what qualifies as mine research? mining, inspecting the ores, measuring the surface?
all sweaty and breathless, the tunnel led you to a large room inside of the mine, the roof extending towards what seemed like a pitch black abyss. carts messily thrown around, bumpy and unpolished geodes laying all over the place, when was the last time a living being stepped foot into this mine? it made sense that such a large sum of money was needed to attract volunteers.
you carefully moved through the rubble, trying to avoid stepping onto pickaxes and shrapnel splayed all over the ground. since you forgot about the gloves your bare hand now held onto the unpromising terrain, the other firmly squeezing the only source of light in this limbo.
the surface grazing your hand now seems like it became... smoother? no longer does it cut and pierce your palms. it's bumpy, but at least you're not risking an infection anymore.
moving inch by inch in fear of falling, the stone below changes its form. you don't even pay attention to the fact that you're now grabbing onto cloth and that, below your palm, a steady pulse is faintly beating.
it's already too late when you realize that you're not alone, and the stone below you starts to take shape and morph until it extends towards the ceiling, now towering over you, slouched like a ragdoll.
complementing the cold shades of grey, a face emerges from the shadows. pale, with defined cheekbones, although malnourished. only his bust passes as human, as below his collarbones there's nothing but a mosaic of pebbles and boulders forming his torso, arms and legs. it - or he, perhaps - is breathing with struggle, coughs interrupting his wheezes here and there.
you feel a sense of dread overcoming you. you freeze on the spot, but he doesn't budge, either. lifeless except for the fact he's breathing and his heart ticks like a machine.
you draw back a step, and he lunges forward, seemingly still not used to this monstrous body of his. he could harm me with ease if he wanted to, a thought suddenly manifests in your mind, and with newfound bravery you inspect the cryptid like a sculpture. your hand grazes over his bumpy and unfinished hands, tugs at the remains of his clothes around his chest. he groans, in annoyance, you assume, but doesn't resist. you climb up a cart to reach his face, your fingers pinch his stubborn hairstrands, inspect the cavity in which his other eye once laid. in a moment of either stupidity or courage you roughly pinch his cheeks - they're cold to the touch, but it's funny how naturally does his intimidating face mush like a little boy's. kind of cute. after a minute of cooing to yourself two of his rocky fingers gently pinch your wrists and put them back to your sides, but his one foggy eye doesn't divert its gaze from yours.
perhaps the flashlight can last an hour more.. you've just began getting to know him, and the mystery of the mine and his origin still lay cold for you to discover.
omg i was answering this req and when i saved it to my drafts I COULDN'T EDIT IT??? so i deleted it in hopes to remake it BUT THE ASK WAS GONE fuck you tumblr :(( im so sorry anon you know who you are
aesop carl, qi shiyi and frederick kreiburg w/ a singer s/o hcsā°ļøšŖš¼
aesop carlā°ļø
...you'd have to do most of the initiation with him. aesop carl is not impolite, not at all, but the crippling anxiety overcoming him makes it hard to go beyond a "hello" or any other introduction. he has a lot of nice things to say to you, romantic even, but during the first couple of months you'll have to basically yank them out of him
aesop is horrible with words, and would rather just hide away and hope you notice how he feels about you. in his eyes, the simple things he does with you - small talk, exchanges of handkerchiefs and drinks by the table, midnight walks when everyone's asleep - are acts of confessing his love. to him, trust equals love, and love equals assistance and communication.
something that he's even more afraid, though, is singing. talking can be quiet, unnoticeable, blending in with everyday noises, but singing is always noticeable. the change of pitch can be caught even by an untrained ear, and the ensuing confrontation, to him, is terrifying.
you fascinate him, a lot. unlike him, you're not afraid to set your voice free, letting it echo through the room and spin around you like a ribbon. kind of like an aura, it attracts passerbys and always leaves them standing in awe, even if it's just for a minute. that kind of confidence is impressive, and he himself finds it rather enchanting.
as you train your voice on the podium, enjoying yourself and twirling around in your flowy robes as if there's nobody around, the last thing that's on your mind right now is a potential secret admirer somewhere nearby. the secret admirer being aesop, of course. he's crouching in one of the loges, partly sick to the stomach because someone might walk in on - or even worse, you may notice - him, partly enjoying your outstanding performance.
qi shiyišŖ
she thinks you two make for a pretty nice duet ;)
you two clash at moments, as she enjoys and is used to the more "formal" arts such as opera and your field of interest is musicals, but overall she's enarmored by your talent and your charisma. jazz, rock, ballad or aria, a strong voice does not go unnoticed.
once she softens up to you, you'll notice just how much she enjoys your voice. as you comb her hair, she asks you to sing something for her. when you two are fast asleep, her head is on your chest, listening to your soft hums as she's lulled to sleep. calls you her songbird as she wraps her arm around your waist and spins you around in your brand new costume.
here and there she'll dust off her old flute and play a nostalgic melody or two. it's even better when enrichened with your singing, and it motivates her to jump back on her feet and do a little three-step as she plays
frederick kreiburgš¼
he's not a wunderkind, but being surrounded by music from a young age he has quite the trained ear. he can quickly differentiate between a powerful mezzosoprano and a rich, dark alto. a lot of insinuations and jokes have been made behind your back about how you two are perfect for each other, but he just rolls his eyes, not bothering with empty gossip.
thanks to the unisolated manor walls, at one point he'll hear some vocal exercises coming from your room
am i losing my mind again? he thinks to himself, looking around in wonder. he stays in the hallway for a little longer, trying to find the source of this haunting voice - and it will take time, oh, indeed, but eventually he'll knock on your door and unintentionally kick off your relationship
as expected, he enjoys playing alongside you. motivating him to crack his knuckles and sit in front of the piano again is hard, but the both of you know your irresistible smile will not leave him any other choice....
mostly picks out german lieder from his collection of sheet music, but of course, adapts to your wishes - something more energetic works great as a warm up
he's the happiest when he performs alongside you on the podium. nothing makes his face light up like when he watches you sing from behind the piano, gesturing towards the audience and slowly dancing to the composition unraveled by his fingers, basking under the golden spotlight.
In the poly post you said that ithaqua is as close as it get to a yandere may I ask why you think that ? Or any headcanons related to that if that's okay with you (sorry if the English is bad )
As luck would have it, Ithaqua is one of the few Hunters I think I have a decent grasp on rn so I was also able to crank this out quickly! (To my other request-ees: I'm working on HC requests for several other characters rn! I should have them ready to spam-post sometime this weekend <3)
So here's some general and sfw relationship hcs for Ithaqua ;)
-A first small note, his exact age is not listed, but heās described as a āyoung adult,ā so I imagine him to be somewhere between 18-22.
-Ithaqua is a man who has entirely rejected society. He wants nothing more to do with it, with anyone, and any instance of breaching his territory is met with wind-swift punishment.
-It all fits when you consider the major events of his life. He was abandoned in a snowstorm, left for dead, because he was thought to be a devil. He was saved and raised by a āwitch,ā a kind woman who stood outside of societyās norms and was feared and hated for it. Their solitary home was trespassed on in the night, defiled, and his mother was kidnapped, tortured, and broken by a man with his exact face. Every small bit of comfort he ever had was destroyed by a mirror image of himself that was raised in ācivilizedā society. If that doesnāt cement the idea that people from that world canāt be given a chance, I donāt know what would.
-And I think on some level he questions the reality of it all. Did he do it? Did he destroy his own life? Was his so-called brother actually a copy of himself? Was Nathaniel supposed to be the better or the worse version? Was he himself evil beforeā¦or is he evil now? None of it matters in the long run, though. His only remaining goal in life is to defend his home and his motherās resting place from interlopers. But he does get this distant, sour expression sometimes when he contemplates these things.
-I think heās close to an as-is yandere because, if we assume heās still capable of bonding with someone on a genuine level, that person would be a one true exception to his otherwise all-consuming distrust and hatred for society. He could not be āled to waterā, so to speak, even by a partner who exemplified everything good left in the world. Heās just not capable of making that leap anymore.
-So again, heās territorial, and that would 1000% extend to a partner. Heās not a master and youāre not his pet, but god would he try to keep you in his clutches. Use every sweet word and convincing anecdote in his arsenal to convince you to stay in the forest. The thing that keeps him from being all-out controlling is that his mother let him make his decisions for himself. She taught him how to survive in the wilderness, and she taught him about the rest of society, and she let him decide for himself if he ever wanted to get involved in it. He didnāt of course, because how could a place that shunned his mother be good for him? You deserve to make those choices too, even if he disagrees with what you pick.
-He will, however, watch you like a hawk. To not sugarcoat it, heāll stalk you. Ithaqua wants to be prepared for the moment everything goes wrong. The moment he knows for certain will come, when you see heās right about other people. When that happens, heāll swoop in to save you. He refuses to be late again, like he was for his mother.
-He doesnāt leave the forest unattended often, but when you spend longer stints at your home in a village, youāll notice the weather gradually becoming worse and worse. It seems to snow every day, and the wind is so harsh that walking outside is deafening and blinding. When you return to visit Ithaqua, the village mysteriously returns to its normal weather patterns.
-Ithaqua hates when other people interact with you. No one is no one is safe enough, trustworthy enough for him to not worry for your safety. They donāt deserve to even stand near you. But he wonāt do anything until they doā¦or you say he can.
-Anyone he takes as a partner would have to remind him of his mother, at least a little. Sheās the only example he has of a āgood personā so heās not likely to give people with divergent personality types much of a chance. Heās also more likely to trust a woman over a man, by a small margin.
-He wonāt stand for being doted on or babied by anyone other than his mother or partner. he won't fall for other people's faux-gentleness! Donāt you know who he is? What he is? Call him cute or pitiful again and your blood will stain the snow red.
-His lips are always chapped to hell and back, sorry. Sharp kisses only for you.
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
2087
jbbartram-illu
discoholicmusic
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jacobvanloon
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind