#this should be read in the most monotone voice imaginable
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Phil wins a subjective Dan vs phil. Words cannot express how shocked we all are. Plot twist of the century.
#this should be read in the most monotone voice imaginable#this is the vibe: 😐#but a win for phil is a win for us all so yay#dan and phil#phan#dnp#dip and pip
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SIGNED: LOVESICK FOOL #03
iwaizumi hajime x f!reader
masterlist
synopsis: After reading the new confession during his lecture, it takes all of Iwaizumi’s sanity not to get up, and leave in the middle of class, especially after coming to a conclusion that these confessions are indeed written by you.
chapter content warning: college au, fluff :3, friends to lovers, iwa is an impatient man !!, they’re kinda awkward, kissing omg, not beta read.
word count: 2.7k
notes: divider: cafekitsune. weee last chapter ! thank u sm for showing love n interest to this hehe this was totally an unplanned series so apologies if the pacing is meh :3
Oikawa was just teasing, Iwaizumi knew it but why did the brunette’s words fuck him up so bad? Did he finally succumb to his delusions for his friend’s words to make him overthink this bad? If anything, Iwaizumi should be completely rational about the whole situation since one wrong move would cost the price of your friendship.
A couple of days had passed since the former had shown him the confession, he’s been trying to act very indifferent over it despite those words from Oikawa but nothing helps when most—if not all—students were talking about dimples which were mentioned on the post.
Now that the anonymous submitter had specified their best friend’s features, students were on the prowl for anyone with dimples—which was exactly what Oikawa had done during that night in their shared dorm.
It repeated in his mind like a broken record, taking up most of its space, and leaving no room to even think of anything else. What would he do? What would Iwaizumi do if these confessions were actually from you?
As far as he knows, it’s strictly fifty-fifty as of now—a fifty percent chance that they were from you because as vague as the first confession was, the second somewhat mirrored yesterday’s events with you. But also a fifty percent chance that this was all an uncanny coincidence, and Iwaizumi was just overthinking it. After all, he didn’t want to jump into any conclusions without a concrete reason.
For now, he ruled it as a mere coincidence. Waiting for another confession to confirm anything would probably be the best idea here, though, of course, that was if you—or the real person behind these submissions—were going to send in another.
Iwaizumi didn’t want to admit it—especially to Oikawa—but he was kind of looking forward to the next confession, even going as far as turning on the notifications for the page. Embarrassing, he knows but for one to underestimate a yearning man was like walking into a fight determined to lose. Though, Iwaizumi wouldn’t even know how to approach the situation if he were to get the confirmation he needed; would he confront you about it? That wasn’t really his style to do so, he could already imagine how awkward it was going to be—tripping over his words, and all crimson-cheeked.
Oddly enough, your words back at the study room last week equally bothered Iwaizumi, he couldn’t specify what about it made him feel this way.
Nevermind that, he needed to focus on the lecture material at hand. Or at least he tried to.
He sat inside the vast lecture hall filled with students, it wasn’t too packed nor was it too empty, just enough to freely give Iwaizumi the pleasure of choosing a seat where he could quietly take notes but also maybe slack a bit without their professor noticing—a few rows back from the middle. It was always like this whenever a new semester started, all students would attend their lectures for about a week straight before the numbers dwindled where a majority of them would rather watch their lectures at the comfort of their room, leaving a fair number of students who actually attended in-person.
The professor’s monotonous voice echoed throughout the lecture theatre—into Iwaizumi’s ear, and out. Despite his interest in the topic at hand, he couldn’t take his mind off you. He figured he might have to rewatch the recorded lecture once he’s back at his dorm to jot down important concepts.
Iwaizumi managed to force himself to actually listen in, even if it was half-assed, though this was only effective for five minutes or so due to his phone vibrating inside his pocket. As if on cue, his mind immediately wandered to the confessions page, what if it was another submission from that anonymous—from you. His hand itched to dip inside his pocket, and check the notification but at the same time, Iwaizumi didn’t want to be more distracted than he already was.
His mind chalked it up to a text from either Oikawa or you but that didn’t really do much—even just the thought of getting a text from you made him all the more curious about this random notification.
Oh fuck it.
Unceremoniously dropping his pen onto the desk, it rolled off to the edge, finding its comfort atop the carpeted floors just beside his foot. He’d get that later. Iwaizumi sank further into his seat as if doing so would somewhat shield him from the embarrassment that engulfed his body; acting this way over something so little, Oikawa wouldn’t let him see the end of it for sure.
A stutter bloomed inside Iwaizumi’s chest as his dark emerald eyes read the notification title—it was from the page. They had posted a new confession just a few minutes ago. Without wasting any more time, his thumb flew over to the notification. Iwaizumi didn’t know he had been holding his breath after releasing it once he was met with a loading screen.
There was nothing to be afraid of, really.
After a few seconds, the screen finally loaded, Iwaizumi’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the bottom of the post, checking to see if it was submitted by the same anonymous sender. It read,
Signed: Lovesick Fool
A wave of excitement washed over his body at those familiar words. Iwaizumi had to physically stop himself from smiling like a whole idiot over this, his free hand coming up to over the lower half of his face, hoping that his fellow classmates couldn’t see how silly he looked. Putting on the most stoic expression he could muster, Iwaizumi began reading,
‘I know you’ve seen the other confessions I’ve written, and you’ll most likely see this too.’
He sucked in a breath. The professor’s voice spilled from the lecture theatre’s speakers but it was muffled, and soft, it faded into a sweet, thumping melody—the melody of Iwaizumi’s heart; he could hear nothing but the pounding of the beast confined in his ribcage.
‘This sounds really really pathetic but fuck, everything you do just makes me hopelessly in love with you. The way your eyes light up every time you talk about your interests, the way you get kinda mad at me for being reckless at times only because you care—the list could go on and on. I hope you know that I love you with all my heart and soul and that I would gladly make you as much agedashi tofu as you want.’
Iwaizumi’s eyes fixated on two words, agedashi tofu.
To many, that may seem like an irrelevant, misplaced piece of information—completely random—but to Iwaizumi, it meant everything because not only was that his favourite but it also confirmed his suspicions, that you were the one behind these popular confessions, and you had just confessed how in love you were with him.
This was too much to even be deemed a coincidence. Dimples. His favourite food.
Warmth—no, a searing blaze. That was the only thing Iwaizumi could feel right now, not even the pounding of his chest, not even the tremble of his hands, not even the shortness of his breath but the burning of a thousand stars—fiery. As though an azure flame had been born in the depths of his chest.
Iwaizumi needed to see you now.
Twenty minutes. It had only been twenty minutes since the lecture started which meant Iwaizumi had to sit through another forty minutes before he could see you. Forty long minutes of squirming in his seat, and repeatedly glancing at the large digital clock on the wall. Forty long minutes of gnawing at the skin of his bottom lip, and impatiently bouncing his leg up, and down to ease the nerves eating him up.
If only Iwaizumi knew how to control time then he wouldn’t be facing this problem.
You might have fucked up. Maybe adding in a crucial piece of information—his favourite food—may have not been the smartest move; of course, others won’t bat an eye at it but the target audience, however—also known as one Iwaizumi Hajime—would immediately pick up on this. Though, what’s done was done, you just somehow wish that he wouldn’t come across this specific confession even though that’d be one-hundred percent unlikely.
Gnawing at your bottom lip, your eyes read through the paragraphs on your textbook, trying not to think of your most recent confession, and instead diverted your attention on the lecture material. It was going well ‘til your phone lit up, indicating a notification.
Wasting no time to check it, you sucked in a breath after seeing Iwaizumi’s name on the notification tab. It was a message from him, he must’ve just finished his afternoon lecture.
Okay. Okay. Having lunch together wasn’t foreign at all but you seemed even more nervous about it now, not to mention how Iwaizumi sounded so serious over text—well, maybe you were just being dramatic, that was how he normally texted. Though, the fact that he had to follow up with another message saying that only the two of you would be having lunch was a little odd. Iwaizumi was never one to specify these kinds of things.
It took Iwaizumi approximately seven minutes to walk from his lecture theatre to the library, three if he decided to do a light jog. As your figure came into view, sitting on a study desk amongst all the other students in the jam packed library floor, it reminded him of your confessions.
How had he been so oblivious to your feelings? Just the thought of you keeping all that to yourself gave Iwaizumi the urge to wrap his arms around you in a tight hug. Maybe later.
He greeted you with a small wave of his hand which you eagerly returned. The little gesture tugged at his heartstrings, and weakened his knees; now that Iwaizumi knew you reciprocated his feelings, he figured he deserved to let his guard down a little—this time, he won’t push them down like he used to do.
As you quietly packed things inside your bag, Iwaizumi took the pleasure of discretely watching you from the corner of his eyes. He stood by the study desk you sat on, thumb mindlessly scrolling on his phone while his gaze was on you.
The way the afternoon sun bounced off your glowing skin had him sucking in a breath. God, you looked effortlessly breathtaking as always. His eyes traced the outline of your features, gaze gently kissing every dip, and curve of your face, from the tint of your lips all the way to the length of your lashes. Iwaizumi looked off to the side, warmth bloomed from his chest, and crept up the column of his neck ‘til it cupped his cheeks.
“Let’s go?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, wary of fellow students studying. Iwaizumi returned a nod, and stiffly led the way.
He could feel everything wrong with his movements—the way his legs felt weird, the awkward stride in each step, how his arms felt heavy against his sides. It was as though Iwaizumi’s body wasn’t insynched, he was all over the place yet the only thing that remained constant was his yearning heart.
You fell into a step next to Iwaizumi, clearly aware of his silence. Usually, he’d be talking your ear off about today’s lecture despite not understanding a single thing from your end but all you got was nothing. Sneaking a glance to the side, you caught a glimpse of a slight scowl on his face, one that he usually put on when in deep thought.
The warmth of your body slowly seeped on to his own, your hand was centimetres away from his, and it beckoned him like a sweet, sweet temptation, an invisible string pulling, and pulling his hand closer to yours until—
Both of you flinched at the subtle contact, a slight brush of his knuckles against yours yet it was as though his skin burned like an azure blaze.
“Oh, sorry.” Iwaizumi gave you a sheepish look, rubbing his nape with the hand that touched yours. You shook your head, mumbling a small ‘it’s okay’ but was it really when the warmth of your cheeks, and the beating of your heart said otherwise?
The touch was momentarily yet it was as though you’ve caught a glimpse of great ecstasy, the feeling of Iwaizumi’s bare skin against your own had you yearning for more like a touch starved man. You couldn’t quite figure out why he’s been acting so foreign lately but you weren’t much better yourself.
Ever since last week, the air between you, and Iwaizumi has turned weird—as if the two of you danced around each other but took no further step to initiate anything; whatever that anything was, you didn’t know.
The abrupt sound of his shoes against the pavement reeled you away from your thoughts. Looking behind you, you’ve noticed that Iwaizumi had come to a stop, hands balled beside him, and a tinge of crimson on the tips of his ears.
Confusion clouded your mind, “You oka—” “The confessions.” Iwaizumi cut you off. Your heart violently stuttered.
“Those are from you, right? The ones signed with ‘lovesick fool’.”
Oh, how badly you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Your nails dug into the hearts of your palms, words lodged inside your throat but didn’t dare come out, all you could really do was stare at Iwaizumi wide-eyed as embarrassment stuck to your body like a leech.
Two options: act like you don’t know anything or run away but seeing as how serious Iwaizumi was, you figured he didn’t have time for silly games.
“How did you—oh my god this is so embarrassing.” Just the thought of pouring your heart out into those confessions, and Iwaizumi fully aware that you were behind them was enough reason to crawl into a hole, and disappear forever. Not to mention how he most likely didn’t even reciprocate your feelings.
Iwaizumi took a few steps closer, a small smile danced on his lips. Oh, so he was finding this all funny, huh? But somehow it gave you a tinge of hope that rejection was out of the picture.
“If I’m being honest, you gave it away from the first confession,” Your eyes widened at his words, trying to rethink back on the first confession you submitted. What the hell. You were so sure to be careful, and vague about it. “Well, not the confession itself but what you said when Oikawa read it out loud,”
“You said something about how it was a long term friendship yet the confession never mentioned anything like that—”
Oh. So, in conclusion, you fucked up.
“—not to mention the dimples in the second confession, and agedashi tofu on the third.”
You buried your face in your palms, turning into putty—not the good kind—as the words came out of Iwaizumi’s mouth. Never mind rejection, this was more embarrassing, definitely a core memory for the books, one that you’d never read.
“Look at me.” He softly chuckled but you were stubborn, shaking your head behind your palms.
Iwaizumi let out a sigh before his hands came up to your own, gently guiding them away from your face to meet your gaze. He didn’t stop there, Iwaizumi held your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze that matched his reassuring smile.
“Are you gonna reject me now?” “Close your eyes.”
Huffing at the way he ignored your question, you obliged anyway, fluttering your eyes shut. At least this was one step better than being rejected on the spot. All you could feel was the warmth of his hand, and the violent pounding of your heart against your chest.
What was he even up to?
Iwaizumi traced your features with his gaze, dropping down, down, down ‘til it found your lips.
After a heartbeat, you felt something warm press against your face—no, your lips. It was only for a brief moment yet you craved its softness, his softness more than anything. You opened your eyes to see a crimson-faced Iwaizumi, he was just as shell-shocked as you were by his own actions.
“Did that—did that answer your question?” “You’re absolutely unbelievable. Kiss me again.”
Iwaizumi didn’t have to be told twice. This time, he did so with more passion. He was going to kiss you as many times as you wished, maybe until all the air in his lungs ran out if it meant your happiness. Because now, he wasn’t going to let you go, not when the taste of this beginning was so, so sweet.
Maybe pouring your heart out to the university confessions page wasn’t a stupid move at all.
—
tags: @stunie @akumakitsune21 @boosyboo9206 @khfviq @avis-writeshq @elliesndg @1929sleepdeprived @wakashudou @lillycore @viscoolreal @lialia3945 @softpia @anqelkoz @tar0sw0rld @nwhaerin @kiyuwumi @seroh @eggyrocks @jellysupremacy @songofgratitude @gsyche @haikyuusunsalad @smellysluna @amoosarte @bbyxxm @fiannee @tiramisu4uu @hoshhhiiiii
affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum & @the-all-stars-network !
© chrollogy 2024 | don't plagiarise, repost or steal my header.
#₊˚ෆ YUE WRITES!#hajime iwaizumi#iwaizumi hajime#hajime iwaizumi fluff#hajime iwaizumi x reader#hajime iwaizumi x you#iwaizumi fluff#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi x you#iwaizumi x y/n#haikyuu#haikyu#haikyuu fluff#haikyu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyu x you#hq iwaizumi#hq fluff#hq angst#hq x reader
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Tim: I have never read a book in its entirety. I refuse. If I never read the ending then I can create my own ending however I see fit. It's the closest I'll come to godhood
Jason: that's the dumbest-
Dick: wait I think he's onto something. Imagine giving a every book you read a happy ending
Tim: happy? Interesting I've never considered that option
Damian: so you don't know how anything ends? That explains all your poor planning
Duke: What about textbooks?
Tim: if it was important they'd tell me in the earlier chapters
Jason: so what you're saying is-
Tim: I do not know how to change the batmobile tire that was in the very back of the manual
Jason: do tell how you decided that one ended
Tim: I called the people I trusted most in the world to come help me and like a true loving family they did
Dick: awww, of course we'll help-
Damian: absolutely not. Consider this a lesson in finishing what you started
Tim: I'm not above bribery. Pick an animal. Any animal. I'll have it in the manor by sunset tomorrow
Duke: I'm actually with Damian on this one- you should learn from this
Jason: also the dog dies at the end of Marley and Me
Tim, with a monotone voice: in my version they all died
Dick, Damian, Duke, Jason: ...
Damian: *tt* I expect a giraffe in the lobby by daylight
Jason: fine I'll help too but I'm stealing the hub caps
Duke: I'll come up with a believable cover story
Dick: some things never change❤️
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ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU
little moments with neil that you’ll never forget. cw: the moldy peaches
you’re a part time lover and a full-time friend,
“i promise you neil, if you even think of dropping me.”
your hands held an iron-grip on your forearms which wrapped around neil’s neck, trying so hard to steady yourself with how wobbly he’s walking right now.
“i don’t know, i think i’m feeling kind of tired right now.”
he started drooping lower to the ground, his voice cracking with each step. you could feel the smirk through his words.
“neil!” you squealed, hiding your face in his neck, bracing for impact.
but instead of feeling the rough, hard ground— you felt neil standing up straight. he was also laughing.
“i hate you.”
he smiled, “i love you more.”
the monkey on your back is the latest trend.
“i think he likes me.”
neil smiled from across you, disregarding the book he was reading a second ago and started petting the stuffed-toy on his back with tenderness as if it really was alive.
“yeah, you two look the same, too.” you teased, giving the monkey a pet as well.
“haha, you’re very funny.” neil monotonously replied, but a grin still evident on his lips, i’m taking that as a compliment.”
you laughed, amused by his reaction. you took a hold of his cheek and stretched it like your grandmother used to, “i’ve been practicing.”
“you should be a clown one day.”
i don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you.
“hello? are you even listening.” your friend deadpanned, upset that you weren’t responding to a thing she was saying.
“what- i was, i mean- i am. i still am.”
she sighed, rolling her eyes with a huff. “look, i get it you’re madly in love, just don’t shove it in my face, please and thank you.”
you were fixated on neil, he was playing on the field with his friends and he just looked, surreal. he still had his hair all tidy, despite being drenched in sweat. he looked breathtaking, despite looking like an absolute mess. he also looked very kissable, too.
“why do i even bother?” your friend laughed and lightly shoved you, pulling your attention back at her.
“yeah—i agree.”
i kiss you on the brain in the shadow of the train,
the loud resounding horn of the train in the distance echoed loudly in the tree-covered valley. you and neil sat on the edge of the cliff, hand on top of the other’s, listening to the crickets chirping.
“i think getting on a train once would be nice. the view would be amazing!” you said in a soft tone, imagining the different scenery you’d be able to witness alongside neil. imagining a world outside your everyday life.
neil chuckled, looking at your eyes with so much adoration. he could almost envision it all himself as well. the amazing scene he’d have in front of him—a quaint small room just for two, dozens of trees and fields and natural life passing by; almost enough for him to write hundreds of poems about. but most beautiful of them all—you.
the scene in his mind was could never beat the moment he’s living in right now, however. you’re eyes—reflecting the bright stars above, giving his life another light within him. he could almost kiss you, and he decided he will.
“(y/n).”
you turned your head, raising your eyebrows with a smile. his nose was only a few inches away from yours, and the close proximity got your blood running up to your cheeks.
“can i kiss you right now?”
now you could really feel the heat across your face. with a small nod, you closed your eyes and puckered your lips.
neil let out a soft laugh, “if only you could see how cute you are right now.”
“just kiss me already, perry.”
i kiss you all starry-eyed, my body swinging from side to side.
his lips felt soft on yours, and his hands were holding your cheeks—somewhat grounding you. your entire body was pulsing with electricity, it was like you could implode any moment.
unfortunately, neil parted his lips from yours, giving you the relieving breath you didn’t know was taken away from you. and you stared, stared at him with star-struck eyes that was being illuminated by the street light, your pajamas crumpled between your fingers.
“that- you were-“ neil struggled to form a proper thought, still buzzing from the kiss.
“i love you.” you blurted, filling the silence and overlapping the chirping of the crickets. realizing the words that left your mouth, you turned your back against the awestruck boy in a rush and blurted ‘talk to me tomorrow’ before running away in a flurry of emotions.
“bye.” neil muttered with a small smile, his cheeks adorning a pink color of his own.
i don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you.
“(y/n),” neil whined with a grin, holding in the laughter that’s begging to be let out while simultaneously trying to keep his pajamas up. “stop pulling on my pants! you’re pulling my underwear along with it!” he desperately pleaded, walking away with your hands gripping the fabric with such strength.
“exactly.”
neil pulled on harder, he was laughing loudly now, enjoying the playful tug-of-war you two were having. before suddenly, you heard a tear.
you stared into neil’s eyes, and he stared back into yours before letting go.
“(y/n).”
“neil before anything i just want to say i love you.” you waved your hands in front of you, slowly walking towards the door facing neil. to your surprise, he jolted towards with a smile, and ripped pants, causing you to run like there’s no tomorrow.
“please—let’s talk about this!”
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𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐢 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏
— Ryomen Sukuna x OC [Hayami]
➷ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : Hayami, whose beauty only the king of course could see.
➷ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : Mention of blood, Sukuna being an ass, not proof readed, 1.8k words.
➷ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ : I had a poll asked you guys to choose between two fanfic ideas. Since most of you chose Sukuna so here it is. However I decided to change this fic to a oc story to suit the story more but if you want then you can imagine yourself. Hayami in Japanese means 'rare or unusual beauty'. If you like the chapter then please leave a like, comment and reblong. Follow me for more like this. Enjoy ♡
𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Bloodied feets ran over the rough and wet ground as Hayami kept running farther and farther onto forest. The pouring rain not making her job any easier. The wet and heavy fabric of sticking to her scared skin.
Hayami thought wheather she should just give up or keep running. She was far away them. Far into the forest. Surely they won't be able to find her right?
The thick trees parted to a clear area. A shrine standing tall and proud in the middle with high wall surrounding it. Hayami opened the metal gate and ran up to the steps of the shrine in hope of finding help but by the fifth step Hayami was loosing conciousness and by the nineth step Hayami was already falling on the ground unconscious.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
"Ms? Excuse me?"
Hayami stirred up, blinking her eyes open, she raised her head from the ground. She looked at the person hovering over her and asked still in daze, "What?"
"Are you okay? You were passed out here on the steps." They asked.
"Oh, oh. Yes. Actually I was here looking for work but I blacked out. Do you need someone for cleaning or other stuff maybe?" Hayami lied through teeth. She possibly could not tell the truth to this unknown person.
"Yes, let's go inside." They led Hayami inside the shrine.
Hayami wandered her eyes around the shrine and was surprised to see so many people working there. Girls, women, men, everyone. They were cleaning the shrine, washing clothes, carrying thing. After years Hayami felt hope bubbling in her heart.
"This shrine belongs to Lord Sukuna. Here everyone works for him and in return they get place to stay, food to eat and money for needs. Most here are like you. Came here looking for work." The white haired person said in a monotone voice.
They farther said, "You will work with them. Everyday you will wake up at dawn and start working. Understood?"
Hayami nodded her head in affermation, "Yes, I understand."
Both of came to a stop in front of a door, The white haired turned to Hayami, "This is your room. Get ready and come meet me. Ask anyone for Uraume and they will tell you where I am."
They said before leaving. Hayami opened the door and walk inside. The room was farely big. Inside was three futon folded meaning Hayami would share the room with others. On one side was cupboard. Hayami opened it and saw kimonos folded inside.
Grabbing a black kimono Hayami changed out of her wrinkled and wet kimono. Then she left looking for Uraume. The shrine was big. Last night in the dark Hayami couldn't see very well but at daylight she could see just how big it was. Asking one of the passing by maids Hayami found Uraume standing in the in the garden.
"Uraume-sama?"
"Yes....?" Uraume narrowed their eyes, realising that they don't know her name.
"Hayami."
"Hayami wash this dirty clothes and hang them to dry." Uraume instructed before leaving behind Hayami.
Hayami picked up one the dirty haori and took a look at it. It was big, really big. Hayami could littraly use it as a blanket. At the front some red substance had dried out. Hayami didn't need to be genius to realise what it was.
The gear in her brains were moving and she remembered what Uraume had said to her previously.
'This shrine belongs to Lord Sukuna.'
Air was knocked out of her lungs as she slapped a hand over her mouth. What did she got herself into? Who does not know Ryomen Sukuna?
He was said to be a notorious monster. He wrecks havon only for his amusement, eats human for meals. He, who voids of any mercy. Who destroys anything and everything on his way. Who's name is a curse that people are scared to say it out loud.
But-but everyone here seem to be happy. If he was that bad they would not be working here right? Right. Hayami would just lay low and work like any other worker here. For that she would get a roof to sleep under, food and also salary. All she had to do was stay out the lord's sight.
Gulping down the vomiting feeling Hayami started dropping piece of clothing one after another in the lye water. Hayami's day spent like that. Washing clothes, doing dishes and cleaning the floor. With two breaks in between.
By the time work ended it was already close to midnight. Hayami finally got meet her other two roommates. They were not how Hayami was expecting. Akio and Rika were her two roommates. Akio was easy to approach.
But Rika was not. She gave of supirior energy and like to believe she was above others. Hayami found out that Rika was here even before Akio came and that Akio came here almost four years ago. Rika bosses around over others and whatever task Uraume gives her, she makes others do the task.
No one dares to oppose her because romers has it that she was a favourite of Sukuna. As much as anyone can be. Rika uses that her favour real well. Rika's name got added in Hayami's 'to avoid list'.
Hayami spent almost two weeks successfully avoiding Sukuna. Whenever she heard about him, she ran the other way. But that peace didn't last for long. One evening Uraume ordered Hayami to deliver new set of clothe in his room.
Hayami fiddled with the fabric in her hand as she in front of his room. Running the same sentence again and again and again that 'Knock three times, go in, keep the clothes on the bed and run back. AND KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN.'
Hayami slowly raised her hand and knocked exactly three times but got no answer. She opened the heavy craved door and entered. The room huge. Barely any light entered the room because the black and red cartains, making a dim atmosphere.
There was a stage type with seven steps and on top of it sat a big bed with red and black silk blanket. Hayami resisted every urge to look around and made a bee line to the bed and kept the folded clothes on it. Then as she ran back to the door and tried to open it, in an blink of an eye, she was pinned against the door on her chest.
A pained sound escaped her throat. One hand grabbed the nape of her neck and other pressed against her lower back. Two hands slammed on the door on her both side.
"Who are you?" A gruffed voice growled.
Ryomen Sukuna.
"I'm-I'm Hayami, Lord Sukuna. Uraume-sama instructed me to deliver your clothes." Hayami mumbled breathlessly. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest. Is this her end?
In a flash she was now facing the King of Course and her back was now against the wall. A rough hand grabbed her jaw with so much force that she fared her jaw might break.
He tilted her head, "Do you take me for a fool?"
The sharp nails of dug in her flesh. She could feel train blood dropping down from her chin to throat. Hayami squeezed her eyes in pain.
"How can I, a lowly maid, think you as a fool?" Hayami whimpered in pain and unconsciously grabbed his kimono on his chest area.
He ordered, "Open your eyes."
Hayami slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was his board chest. Then travelled her eyes up to meet the four crimson eyes of his. They were glaring down at her. They terrified Hayami, more than them.
When your eyes met something flashed in his eyes but it was gone as soon it appeared. Suddenly jerked away from from her and turned his back on her, "You are dismissed."
Hayami didn't need to be told twice. As soon the words came from him Hayami was already running back to her room.
"O my god! What happened to your face?" Akio gasp once she saw Hayami's bloodied face.
"I don't know. I went to deliver Lord Sukuna's clothes and her suddenly attacked me." Hayami replied. After that Akio didn't inquire farther. His name was enough. She advised Hayami be as far away from him possible. Hayami was still alive was already good enough. Then Akio helped Hayami aiding her wounds.
Later that day deep into the night when everyone was sleeping, in the lord's room stood Uraume in front of Sukuna. Sukuna was taking drags from his kiseru.
"Who came to deliver my clothes today?" Sukuna asked after releasing smoke from his mouth.
"She is a new worker here, Hayami. She came here two weeks ago." Uraume answer in their ever so monotone voice.
Sukuna raised a brow, "Hayami. No surname?"
"No, Lord Sukuna."
"Tell me more about her."
"She came here two weeks ago. She was passed out on the ground. She said that she here looking for work. She does her work well, Lord Sukuna. I found nothing suspicion about here thus far."
"She came looking for work? This far into the forest? Hmm?" Sukuna thought for a few seconds, "You are dismissed. You can leave now."
"Understood, Lord Sukuna." Uraume bowed once and left the lord alone.
Sukuna's brows frowned is conflict. The strong aura he felt earlier was no jock. He almost thought that some strong sorcerer had finally found the balls to come here and kill him. Sukuna was feeling this kind presence of someone strong for weeks but thought it was just Uraume. Today it was too strong.
When he saw her he could not believe that it was coming from her. Sukuna remembered the fear in her eyes. His lips curled upwards at the memory. Sukuna thought to himself—
Hayami, huh? Rare beauty. Let's see how beautiful your strength is.
Please don not copy, reupload or plagiaris my work.
All the rights and credits of Jujutsu Kaisen characters and pictures used belongs to their rightful owners.
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#sukuna fluff#sukuna smut#sukuna fanfic#sukuna imagine#ryomen sukuna#ryomen Sukuna x oc#jjk fanfic#jjk sukuna#jjk suguru#jjk imagines#jjk x oc#Ryomen Sukuna x oc#Sukuna x oc#jjk#Jujutsu Kaisen x oc#uraume#jjk x y/n#jujutsu itadori#jujutsu sukuna#jujutsu sorcerer#jujutsu geto#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu satoru#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#kento nanami#Nanami x oc#toji x oc#geto suguru
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The road / Ghost x Soap
Kinktober #8 - Napping together (from the SFW prompt list)
Return to the base is by far Soap’s least favourite part of any deployment. The deal is done; there’s no more danger, there’s no objective—only the countless hours spent on the road or in the air.
Thankfully, Ghost knows him well enough by now and provides some comfort.
Return to the base is by far Soap’s least favourite part of any deployment. The deal is done; there’s no more danger, there’s no objective—only the countless hours spent on the road or in the air. Adrenaline has fizzled out of his system, leaving him tired and way too lucid at the same time. The flights and rides home are when the regrets register. What went wrong, what could he have done better, what are the lessons to learn. Most of the time, it’s completely useless. The reflection and analysis only make sense with a level of distance. So soon after the mission, there’s no way he can see the full picture and disregard irrelevant information. He knows all this, yet is unable to stop his brain.
Soap startles as something big and heavy flops down on the bench next to him. In the low, red-tinged light of the cargo bay, he can’t make out much. Soap relaxes the moment he realises it’s Ghost.
“Ghost?” he addresses his Lieutenant over the comms as the plane engines are too bloody loud.
There’s no answer, but suddenly, there is Ghost’s arm around Soap’s shoulders, pulling him close. Soap goes willingly, leaning against Ghost’s solid frame. Johnny sighs, feeling the tension gradually leave his body.
“Better?” The soothing timbre of Ghost’s voice sounds intimately close in the comms.
“Aye,” Soap admits, leaning on Ghost more. “Could you… keep talking? Please?” That’s a tall order, and they both know it. Between the two of them, there’s only one talker, and it’s not Ghost.
Ghost hums, clearly contemplating the request. “What would you have me say?”
“Anythin’ really,” Soap closes his eyes, too tired to explain his request.
“Alright,” Ghost’s arm tightens around Johnny’s shoulders, providing even more comfort. There was never any need for him to explain, Ghost knows him well enough by now. He thinks for a minute, searching his memory for something that wouldn’t be a horrible choice, like quoting the field manual or telling some horrible jokes. Both of those have a place in their communication, especially their infamous banter, but it doesn’t fit this moment. A possibility presents itself, and Ghost goes with it. It’s unusual, but he has a feeling that Johnny might appreciate it. “On the far side of the river valley the road passed through a stark black burn. Charred and limbless trunks of trees stretching away on every side. Ash moving over the road and the sagging hands of blind wire strung from the blackened lightpoles whining thinly in the wind.”
Soap filters out everything except Ghost’s nearly monotonous voice, which actually suits the picture he’s painting with his words. It feels melancholic. “’S nice… what is it?” Johnny asks, already on the verge of sleep.
“The Road by Cormac McCarthy. You should read it sometime.”
“Mmm… maybe I will… tell me some more.” He probably won’t read it. Soap’s never been one for reading, unable to focus on the pages for more than fifteen minutes before his mind starts to multitask. However, he’s reasonably sure he could listen to Ghost read him a book. Soap tries to imagine them huddled in a bed like that, simply enjoying a cosy evening. The world could go fuck itself for once.
Ghost rakes his memory for the continuation of the story. “Farther along were billboards advertising motels. Everything as it once had been save faded and weathered. At the top of the hill they stood in the cold and the wind, getting their breath. He looked at the boy. I'm all right, the boy said…,” Ghost trails off as he realises Soap has fallen asleep. Ghost’s gentle chuckle is hidden under the harsh skull mask.
Simon has always considered himself a man of violence—someone who can only take and never give back. Soap has changed that. Not the reality, merely Simon’s perception of self. He’s gentle with Johnny, and, as much as he struggles to understand it, he seems to be able to bring the man peace. It’s a new, uncharted territory, one he’s keen on exploring more.
Carefully, Simon makes himself a little bit more comfortable, resting his chin on Johnny’s mohawk as he, too, closes his eyes and lets his mind drift off.
#call of duty#ghost mw2#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#ghost x soap#ghostsoap#soap mw2#soapghost#ghoap#kinktober 2023#kinktober#fluff
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I came back the same (it's you who's changed)
Padme comes back as a force ghost. Only, there's something wrong about her. She's not a fan of the Empire. (Aka, when your dead wife comes back 'wrong', only she's the exact same as she's always been, but you're now a fascist sith lord.) Read on ao3 here.
Or read it under the cut...
The first time he saw her was a flicker in the window.
His breath didn’t catch. Couldn’t, with the suit breathing for him. But he started, swung around to look behind him.
There was no one there.
There was no one when he looked in the window either.
But he’d felt sure, just for a second, that it had been her.
—
She was everywhere, popping in the corner of his vision, disappearing whenever he focused too much.
It was driving him to distraction.
“Are you quite alright, Lord Vader?” Tarkin asked drily, and Vader had to bite down the impulse to strangle him. Unfortunately, his master had made it clear that while he didn’t begrudge Vader executing his more incompetent inferiors, Tarkin was a particular favourite, and there would be consequences were he to ever be disposed of. It grated.
“I sensed a disturbance,” he replied, sure he sounded suitably ominous through the monotone respirator.
The other officials at the meeting looked wary, uncomfortable. Tarkin just appeared bemused.
One day, one day, he would have the Moff’s respect. One day he would convince his master of his irrelevance.
—
They were sitting in the field, in the lake country. But the breeze that blew couldn’t touch him in his suit, and all the landscape had morphed into shades of red.
“We need a system where the politicians sit down and discuss the problems,” he heard himself saying, the expression of his former self mixing with the droid-like tone of his current voice, “agree what's in the best interests of all the people, and then do it.”
Padme hardly waited a second before arguing, voice baffled, but intent. “That’s exactly what we do! The trouble is that people don't always agree. In fact, they hardly ever do.”
“Well, then they should be made to,” Vader said. He’d been half joking, teasing her, when he’d first said it, when fields still appeared in shades of green, but now he knew it to be truth.
“By whom?” she demanded, incredulous. “Who’s gonna make them?”
“It should have been you,” he replied, and watched as she recoiled.
—
Sometimes, he wondered if he were going mad. If, finally, this was the thing that had made him snap. There was another part of him that felt he'd already done that - snap, that was. In the blurred days at the end of the war, where he hadn’t known who to turn to, who to trust, days that he remembered only as being a haze of rage and bloodlust, as he'd felt the true power of the force for the very first time, as he'd revelled in it, drowned in it.
Sometimes she was there, standing right in front of him, watching him.
What was strange was that she seemed angry. Vader didn’t understand why - she had no reason to be. After all, she was the one who’d betrayed him, the one who’d sided against him with Obi Wan.
He regretted strangling her, though. In his defence, he hadn’t had a good handle on his emotions, or the dark side, at that point in time. Now, he felt sure that she would have come round to his point of view if she hadn't died. That they could have got rid of Palpatine. That she would have been the most wondrous of Empresses. He would have worshipped her.
Whenever he saw her now, he never saw her smile.
—
Slowly, everything became worse.
Padme stayed, for longer and longer periods of time, no longer just a glimpse, a flicker of his imagination. She glowed, like a pale hologram. Through his mask he saw her in shades of red. He wished he could see her in colour again.
The first time he heard her speak was to insult the admiral he was meeting with.
After that, she wouldn’t shut up.
—
It was hard, hearing her voice, as distorted as it was through his helmet.
What was harder still, was hearing the words that she spoke.
Of course, some of it he agreed with, the politicians and generals were ineffectual, self-serving, greedy, Vader even found himself using some of her points against them during their meetings. But, they were also doing their best for the Empire.
Padme… didn’t seem to like the Empire, which was hard to understand, because it functioned so much better than the Republic. He’d been sure that, if she’d still been alive, she would have recognised how much better everything was now there was a strong system of government in place. But she seemed to hate it. Raged against it.
What was the hardest, was realising that this apparition couldn’t be Padme.
—
As he finished a call with his master, the apparition glared at him, arms folded, looking at him like she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
During the meeting, the Emperor had asked if there was something on his mind.
Darth Vader had not told him that there had been a spirit with him, ranting and raving, tossing scorn at every syllable that came from Sidious’s mouth.
“Why do you do what he tells you?”
He ignored the apparition. She was not Padme, she merely took her form. A cruel mockery.
“No, really,” she continued. “You. Anakin Skywalker. You were proud you were free. You never let anyone tell you what to do. You ignored orders. You knew what was right and wrong… well, mostly. Suppose this is what I get for not seeing the signs,” she scoffed, looking defeated for a moment. The part of him that wouldn’t accept that this was not Padme wanted to wrap her into his arms upon seeing her expression, not that he was much good at offering comfort. Not anymore. She sighed, looked straight at him, eyes blazing. “When did you start kneeling at the feet of your “Emperor” and thinking it was natural? You’re a person, Anakin. You’re not just his killing machine.”
“You don’t know what I am, you’re not her.” He hadn’t been expecting to speak. He hadn’t let himself since realising the truth, the truth that she wasn’t who she appeared to be.
“Excuse me?”
“You share her form, but you’re not her, and you don’t know me,” he replied, voice steady through his vocoder.
They argued, in a way he felt certain they hadn’t during the war. How dare ‘Anakin’ not recognise her, after he crushed her throat beneath his grip, after she’d trusted him, believed in him - the last person to do so.
In the end, he almost believed her, believed she could be Padme. A warped, strange version of her, one who made him question immutable facts, but a Padme nonetheless, a Padme who came back from the dead wrong.
So he asked, asked what he could do for her. (Told her he still loved her).
“Yeah? Bring back democracy.”
He sighed. And to think he’d almost believed this apparition, this spirit, this deception sent through the force to trick him. Padme had known their system was crumbling, complained endlessly about the senate, about the ongoing war, about how no-one would listen to her try to bring about initiatives that would give peace. She’d felt furious, powerless, had told him countless times that she wanted systematic change.
He’d brought that. The Empire had stopped the politicians and their meaningless in-fighting. They had ended the war with the Separatists.
So no, the furious vision that stood before him was not Padme at all.
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Imagine
[gender neutral reader]
One day you were looking for Violet grass on the cliffs of Wuwang Hill we always enjoyed the pretty color plus with your flower shop and how most places sell them for a lot due to how hard it is to get them; people often buy plenty of violet grass from you due to how cheap you sell it.
The more you wandered the more flowers you got to pick soon you had a basket filled with violet grass but you stopped seeing a little girl standing in the middle of the road just holding what appears to be a basket? walking up to her gently tapping her shoulder; "hello little girl where is your guardian?
She turned around to look back at you with the cutest doe eyes you'd ever seen and said with the most monotone voice you have ever heard from a child "Qiqi does not know..." Looking at her with a shocked but pitiful expression "Ohh it's okay how about I get you to Liyue to find your mommy or daddy?" "Qiqi doesn't think she has a mommy or daddy... Just a doctor..." " OH! Maybe the bubu pharmacy is where we should go first." Taking her tiny hand you head to Liyue hopefully finding her caretaker there...
When you got to Liyue you immediately headed up the stairs to bubu pharmacy ugh you'd always hated those stairs but you didn't need a missing child on your conscience so you went up when you finally reached the top you were met with a receptionist looking surprised "Qiqi oh did you get the flowers?" Honestly surprised you wanted to yell at the man for being more worried over flowers than the little girl being safety and just as you were about to scold the man a green or mocha? Haired man walked in "Please don't yell at my employee." He said with a closed eye smile with a white snake wrapped around his neck
After a while of you fighting about Qiqi's safety
"Sorry about my behavior earlier..." Qiqi had taken over for the employee a little while back "oh it's quite alright. It kinda restores my faith in humanity that people like you exist." "Thanks, I never got to ask your name Dr....?" "Baizhu I'm Qiqi's current caretaker." "Hmm. Say is it alright if I visit Qiqi sometimes?" " Oh sure I don't have much time to take care of her and I am physically struggling with an illness so it'll be nice for a little extra help. "
After parting and saying goodbyes to both Qiqi and Baizhu honestly it feels like a friendship will grow between you and Qiqi and maybe Dr Baizhu too...*even just thinking about it a small smile and blush appears on your face but you don't notice*
______
The author here I wanted to see if I could write Baizhu and Qiqi cause I don't fully know how to write their characters yet thx for reading this baiii <3 ( please comment where I can fix both of their character writing here so for future fanfics I make so I apply it please be nice about it tho :D )
#genshin impact#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact fanfic#genshin x you#genshin baizhu#baizhu#genshin impact x gn reader#genshin impact x m reader#genshin impact x f reader#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#genshin impact x male reader#genshin impact x female reader#gn y/n#m y/n#f y/n#gender neutral y/n#male y/n#female y/n#baizhu x gn reader#baizhu x m reader#baizhu x f reader#baizhu x reader#baizhu x gender neutral reader#baizhu x male reader#baizhu x female reader#baizhu x f y/n
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Amnesia Memories fanfic!
Kent x MC
Trigger warnings: slight angst, forced kissing, aggressiveness, jealousy, and ikki himself is a warning
“Hey, you’re staring again.” I am snapped away from my own thoughts as Kent’s voice pierces through. “Is it just a misunderstanding again?” He says in a teasing voice.
Me and Kent were in the college study room like normal on every Wednesday we could. I was staring off into the white space of my mind as if it was a normal thing, as if I was looking for something. It feels like there used to be something there but no matter how hard I look there’s still nothing but myself. This situation feels like deja-vu, but still oddly brand new. I feel like there should be more people, a voice; something.
“Do you want to misunderstand?” I give the most natural answer, but I realize I’ve already said that before. We both look at each other and give a soft chuckle, lightly covering our mouths.
“Well, maybe I do.” Kent stands up from his desk, lightly pushing his hands up, against the desk. There are times I forget how tall he is, knowing his soft side better makes it hard to see him as others do.
He approaches me with a steadfast pace, his broad shoulders becoming larger as he continues to get closer. Before I know it he’s standing right in front of me, face next to mine. He had crouched down to be face to face with me, smiling softly.
“I won’t back down again.” His expression changed to one I rarely see; he had a smirk, almost like something Ikki would wear. His eyes didn’t match his expression though, they were excitable; almost like a child’s expression. He leaned in slightly, it felt nice to feel like we were progressing with each other. Who knew that we’d already be having our second kiss after getting over our misunderstood “hatred” for each other not too long ago. It felt like it was taking forever for him to do it himself, so I began to lean in towards him. Right before our lips could touch though, there was a sudden interruption.
“You seemed to have let your guard down once again, my friend.” A loud but smooth voice comes from the doorway, now wide open. Kent stands back up in a rush, almost headbutting me on the way up. He looks around in a daze, eyes squinted and aware.
“I am not your friend. Now show yourself before it’s too late.” He sneers out the word friend like he couldn’t even imagine it, I still find these fights to be utterly amusing. A very cute friendship for two very serious men.
“I’ve completed the puzzle!” Ikki finally shows himself, he goes right in front of Kent. He bows and hands Kent a packet of papers, even more than the last puzzle. Kent looks down at it questioningly, judging it from afar. He snatches the papers from Ikki’s hands and begins to flip through, eyes carefully reading every page and at every stop he would say correct in a very monotone voice.
“See, I told you I could take it.” Ikki plasters a smirk on his face that reaches his eyes, achieving an overall look of smugness. One of his hands is raised as if examining it, he uses the other to tug at the end of his glove.
“Hm. I guess I’ll have to accept it.” Kent says in a huff, tone sounding similar to pouting. “You have very poor timing though.” His eyes trailed off to the side, voice still staying firm.
“No, this was very planned.” Ikki’s smirk of smugness turns to one of devilishness. “I can’t believe you almost managed to score a kiss!” He continued to burst out in laughter, hands hugging his sides. Kent tensed up and his eyebrows began to twitch.
“My relationship is none of your business, Ikkyu.” Kent’s arms stiffen by his sides, glued to his hips. His head faces downward but he looks upward to glare at Ikki, like a warning.
“Oh, really? Well, then it would be such a shame if my hand happened to-” Ikki cut off his sentence mid-way through. Me and Kent both carefully watch as he slowly puts one foot in front of the other, towards my direction. “-slip.” His words were very sudden; before I knew it Ikki’s hand was cradling the back of my head.
I snuck a quick look past Ikki at Kent, he looked like he was mostly keeping himself under control at least. Kent seemed to have gotten more confident in our relationship, I could tease him a little bit. I don’t pull away from him, instead giggling under my breath at the rivalry between them.
“Ikkyu, I suggest you step back. As well as you-“ He breaks off mid-sentence and looks directly at me. I felt a chill go through my body from the look he gave. “It’s better if you don’t let him manipulate you.” Kent had a stern expression and tone, taking this very seriously.
“Oh, c’mon, Ken! Sharing is caring, right?” Ikki doesn’t look at Kent as he speaks, his eyes locked on me. I stood up from where I was sitting on the loveseat, expecting to be able to pull away from him a bit. Instead, before I can think to move, Ikki has his hand grasped around my waist.
“Well, if that’s so I guess you could call me a very uncaring person!” Kent raises his voice at Ikki’s sudden movement. Even I’m a bit taken aback at how far he is taking it this time. I look past Ikkyu again to check up on Kent, what I see is him trying his hardest to keep control. His fists were being held in tight balls at his sides, eyebrows furrowed downward with a sneer marking his face.
Ikki didn’t say another word but in the blink of an eye his lips were on my forehead. I never knew a kiss on the forehead could feel so rough, I thought they were all soft and sweet. As he pulled away from my face I felt leftover residue from what I can assume is some kind of lipgloss. I tried to process what had just happened in just a quick couple of minutes, but was cut short. Ikki’s cold hands were pulled away from me; I was pretty thankful that he let go.
When I focused my vision back on Ikki though, he was instead being pulled back by an aggressive-looking Kent. Ikki looked like a kid caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, upset over the fact they got caught but still proud of their actions. Kent had grabbed the back of their suit, almost unbuttoning the front in the strength he used to pull him off me.
“Ooooh, Ken’s a big, strong protector now!” Ikki continued to laugh even through the position he’s in. His laughing only got louder and louder as Kent’s silence grew heavier and heavier.
“Get out, Ikkyu.” Kent seemingly reluctantly let go of Ikki’s clothing. Ikki scoffed and patted his clothing down, trying to smooth out any wrinkles Kent may have put in them.
“Fiiiine, but can I come back next time they’re here?” He looks at Kent like a lost puppy, giving them the puppy-dog eyes. It doesn’t faze Kent one bit though, his glare only gets sharper.
“Get. Out.” Kent starts walking towards Ikki, his footsteps much louder than usual. Ikki takes this as his actual sign to leave, not looking forward to getting his pretty little face hurt. He made small but quick steps to the door, closing it quietly behind him.
I am once again left alone with Kent, the air much more tense than before. His teeth are clenched together, his hand held tightly in his hair. His eyes look glossed over with something, he always makes it difficult to understand exactly how he’s feeling. Well, that being said, I don’t think he really knows how he’s feeling most of the time.
“Kent…” I called out his name softly and he looked up at me, his expression morphing as if he’s made a plan. His body leaned forward as he started making his way towards me. I don’t flinch or back away, but I’m worried about how worked up he is. Kent’s arms reach out toward my waist, placing his hands steadily on my sides. He looked like an aggressive version of embarrassed and defeated. His eyes showed how lost he felt with his emotions, he still feels new to having such a burst of emotion.
“If he can touch you like that then that means I can do even more! I’m your boyfriend so it’s only natural!” His tone was slightly scary, he seemed like he wanted to prove a point to himself. Kent seemed to be contemplating something, hovering around me but his eyes stayed confused. I barely had enough time to process what was happening when his lips crashed into mine. This kiss was anything but soft and caring, his lips felt rough against mine as he moved his hands along my sides. He moved from my sides to my back, pulling me to be flush against him.
This was such a quick jump from our original position, the closest I’d been to him was a hug. No matter how much I could take advantage and enjoy this, I know this isn’t him in his right mind. I tried to pull away from the kiss, but he used his height to just push his face towards me more. Once he recognized that I was trying to pull away, his grip on my body got tighter. Each movement he made was dripping in desperation, I can’t figure out what exactly for though.
“K-Kent, no-” I try to make out a sentence while Kent continues to smother me. It’s hard to not get carried away in the kiss, it was messy but to the point. He may not have much experience but he does have a goal, and I know how determined he can be.
Surprisingly, Kent stopped at my words. He pulled his face away from mine and continued to tightly hold my body against his. His gaze continued on me, his eyes never leaving mine. His expression was something of a hurt animal, his eyes looked like he was in a desperate sort of pain. They were glazed over and wet, looking as if he was about to cry.
“Why? Do you not like it…?” His voice was dejected, trailing off at the end. “Would you prefer it if Ikkyu was doing it instead?” As Ikki’s name rolled out of his mouth, his tone got sharper again. His sad and lost expression turned into an angry display of accusation.
“It’s always him, he always gets what he wants. Why can’t I have just one thing?” Kent continues to talk about Ikki, refusing to give me a chance to talk. I’ve seen him be sad and upset before, but never to this extent. I never thought I would have to see him cry, but a tear rolls down and collects on his chin. He still hasn’t let his grip loosen on me, he stares into my eyes while I’m left with so much to say but stuck speechless.
“Please, lie to me. Tell me I’m wrong, let me be selfish.” His voice shakes as he pleads with me, it’s like he’s trying to be angry but just can’t force himself anymore. He’s lost his accusational tone and instead gone back to words doused in desperation. His body was stiff against mine, so little movement you could mistake him for dead.
“I won’t lie to you, but you are wrong…” I know exactly what I want to say but I don’t know how to put it into words. I always knew that Kent is one to overthink things, but I never thought it was to this unhealthy of an extent.
“I stopped you because I care. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later just because you felt overwhelmed by your emotions.” I speak calmly, hoping to calm Kent down a bit. I see his lip quiver slightly, it must’ve been so hard for him to bottle up his emotions. No wonder he’s reacting how he is, this must have been eating him away inside for awhile.
“But I’ve always wanted to do this, I just finally got the confidence!” He tries to refute what I said, tightening his grip on the fabric of my clothing. He looks angry again, clearly not believing what I said.
“That doesn’t mean it’s the right time, Kent.” I pause to think, what could I say next? I feel like he’ll find a way to twist my words into something against him no matter what. “I love you, not Ikki. I’d enjoy being more physical with you, but not when you’re so emotionally vulnerable.” I grab one of his hands gripping onto my back, he understands and lessens his grip on me. I lift his hand up and away from my body, but up to my face. I lean my face against his already cupped hand, trying to calm him so he can better understand what I’m meaning.
Kent’s thumb moved across my cheek, feeling his silk glove glide across my skin. I didn’t have time to say anything else before he wrapped his arms around me, this time bringing his head down to rest on my shoulder. The embrace was soft and needy, leaning some of his weight on me.
“I’m sorry…” Kent apologized dejectedly, still obviously unhappy with my answer. “I hate how easily it comes to Ikkyu, I wish I could be like him.” His words are muffled as he speaks into the fabric on my shoulder.
“You don’t need to be like him, you’re cute in your own way.” I bring my hand up to cup his head, ruffling his hair slightly. “That’s why I chose you, Kent.” His grip on me got a little tighter, burying his head into the nape of my neck a little deeper.
“Can we stay like this for a little while?” He asks, still muffled by my clothing. I didn’t think I’d get to see such a soft side of Kent today, but I’m glad I did. He’s always had a hard time expressing his emotional problems, next time we can work on it in a less aggressive way.
“Of course, Kent.” I tried speaking with the softest tone I could, just wanting him to feel calm and comfortable. We could stay like this for a while, no one ever came in here; and that’s what we did. After a few minutes we moved to the couch, leaning against each other.
We stayed like that for quite a long time, until dark actually. I hope me and Kent can have more moments of vulnerability like this, he needs someone to help him mediate his overwhelming emotions. He was never taught how to deal with them, so he kept them in and ignored them. He must’ve felt like there was something wrong with him, his parents act like human textbooks. I just want to be here for him, no matter what.
#amnesia memories writing#amnesia memories#amnesia kent#kent amnesia#amnesia later x crowd#fanfic#amnesia: memories#ikkyu amnesia memories#kent amnesia memories#kent#ikki#ikkyu#kent writing
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Any general homestuck voice headcannons?
john is difficult, i dont feel his voice is QUITE as silly as the popular hc john voice, but its similar to that
dave speaks with a tone like moistcritikal but his actual voice is akin to the guy from the handlebars dubstep cover, you know the one. that but just barely southern
rose is such a hard one because i know exactly how she sounds in my head but ive never found anything close to it out there. ill edit this if i get something
whoever voiced jade in let's read homestuck got it exactly right. that's what jade sounds like. five stars
definitely case for older karkat, and for a much younger karkat, the og broadway karkat had a pretty good voice
most headcanon terezis sort of got it right with the weird gravely voice and the cackling. there's no other way to read the leetspeak
kanaya is not british. thats my controversial hot take of the day. to me instead of being british she just speaks in a very autistic kind of choppy monotone (weird emphasis on each word) which gives a lilt to her voice that COULD be an accent but ultimately isnt
lots of equius voice hcs i see make him sound weird with like, a forceful gravelly or squishy voice... personally i imagine him sounding kind of like a weirdly blunt vampire. super "noble"
eridans kind of southern ngl
those are all the opinions i can think of off the bat, maybe i should make one of those hc videos sometime
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Reading through the OREGON ULTIMATUM tags is quite interesting especially the characters the way some of the art looks reminds me of David feiss (the guy who made cow and chicken) and i could see it animated in that style. Do you have any voice claims for any of the characters? idk why but i hear dr. window having a midwest accent.
I've never watched Cow and Chicken but thank you *takes notes*
Dr. Windows lives in Ultimatum, Oregon, and attended PCS (Portland College of Science). (These are not real locations and are not meant to parody any real locations.) BUT... Where she lived beforehand is ambiguous... so she could've grown up in the midwest!!!
(and im midwestern so tbh they probably all have midwestern accents when in my head)
MORE BELOW
If I was actually to cast them, it may be difficult to find the right voice actors, because Dr. Windows and Dr. Treetop both have speech disorders/impediments. Dr. Windows has mildly slurred speech and a prominent lisp, and Dr. Treetop has disorganized/stuttery speech.
I usually put Windows' dialogue in italics. Its meant to indicate her speech disorder. Their speech is consistently slurred and they struggle most with "s" sounds.
As for Treetop, I've been thinking a lot about how I should type out his struggles with continuity. I want it to be in a way that is accessible for readers and seems accurate to real life. Unlike Windows, his speech disorder isn't consistent, and it affects the things he says, so it is something that has to be typed out. If anyone has any good examples on how to handle stutters in writing/comics I'd eat the suggestion up.
ANYWAY, for voice claims....
Hellmann - I'm unsure... They are emotional so definitely a voice that can sound neurotic and get mad.
The Hivemind - Limbic system from disco elysium but with a layering effect. Perceiving its "voice" physically feels warm.
Windows - Ummm gay and androgynous, metaphorically warm, soft but not quiet. (In my head, I sometimes imagine something similar to Raine Whispers from the Owl House ngl)
Treetop - Hissed, intense, particular with his words, usually monotone. Since he's supposed to come off as intimidating, I originally imagined him with a deep, rumbly voice, but ehhh I'm not a fan of that anymore. His voice definitely wouldn't be intimidating, he would sound like a pathetic edgelord. (In my head I imagine him sounding similar to Razer from GLTAS...??? but i can also picture something less aggressive, like patho 2 bachelor).
Sutthi - nasally and deep (Honest to god I think I've been imagining Squidward Spongebob in my head.)
Cuautle - I have this distinct voice in my head for some reason. Normal and old but very androgynous for no particular reason. Over the phone people probably think they are a woman.
Anthill - Sounds Scared. Been watching dungeon meshi and yeah, she would probably sound like english dub Marcille.
But yeah I dont mind if people imagine them differently and have their own headcanons :)
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"Otousan?" A groggy sounding voice from a young demon. The brother of the siblings the elder had rescued only a few short months ago. A blink of the eye for a demon.. Though often the more cautious of the siblings, this time he seemed a bit more.. open? Perhaps was the word.
But seemed like he was holding something in his hands. A book?
"One of your humans gave this to me, they interrupted my nap. I don't know why." Indeed, it was a children's book. The young demon couldn't.. quite read. Yet at least. Still settling into their new life took a bit more priority.
"I almost threw it at them, but.. They give you things all the time, so maybe it was meant for you?" ( Have some more young/freshly turned Gyutaro for the new years! @deathly-toxins )
In the near century of his demonhood, Dōma had not shut his eyes once. Even watching the younglings nap seemed odd at times; so rigid and stiff, like dead. Then, their little eyes would crack open and there would be noise again. Daki's incessant whining and the persistent gnashing of Gyutaro's bottomless pit of a maw. As peculiar as the experience of having them around was, though, what stuck out to Dōma the most ought to be the way these two had begun to react to his presence. Daki flocking to his robes for comfort when her still forming feral visage was revealed to passing strangers, or Gyutaro walking up to him with requests like this...
It was different from when humans asked for things. Although Upper Two couldn't explain how it differed.
Hair laden with ornaments bounces gracefully with the Lord's abrupt turn on heel. Dōma's palm almost instictively comes to cup the child's head, his hand large and heavy as it ruffles through unruly tufts of black and green. A saccharine cant of the head later, the book is being held up in his direction and Dōma himself seems a little dazed by the sight.
Fingers idly reach to trace the cover before prying it from those little hands. And he holds it up to read out the title. There's that brief recollection of being read to, as a child. But a mere flip through the pages would reveal that this is something much more colorful than the monotonous sutras and chants he had been brought up with.
❝ It's a book, mochi. I think they meant to gift it to y— ❞ Threw it back at them? The elder demon lets out a scandalized gasp, his fingertips gracefully hovering over pale lips. ❝ Oh, little Gyutaro... You probably do not know this, as you were raised on the street. But when someone gives you a present, you should say —❞ At which point the demon gives an accurate depiction of the act, palms pressed under his chin and all. ❝ — 'thank you very much!' And accept it. Even if you don't like it, it's better to accept it and say thank you first and then eat them for displeasing you. ❞
The finger held up as Upper Two offers his wisdom is promptly lowered then, just as Dōma himself kneels closer to the freshly turned demon-child.
❝ Now, since you also can't read, this gift is a little useless for you. So, how about we go back to your room and I'll read this story to you until you fall asleep? My parents used to do that all the time for me and it always worked, especially because all their stories were stupid and boring. ❞ He holds up the book with a smirk. ❝ If one of my humans gave you this, I bet this one is going to be even more stupid. Humans only tell their children stories to get them to behave, after all. Can you imagine? Hey, let's grab a bite and laugh at this together afterwards. How does that sound? ❞
#𝚅 𝟶𝟸 ⟅ god didn't bring you this far to leave you ⟆#(( LITERALLY FATHER SON MOMENT <3 ))#(( a lil monster ;~; ))#deathly toxins#♛ ¦ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇꜱ༺ answered
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Voice headcanons for CKC that I'll edit into a video sometime in the future.
Cody - Rex Splode (Invincible) I like Rex, I think his voice sounds appropriately young and impulsive, some of these characters I wanted to make sure the voices sounded "young" but others I just didn't and for Cody I think it's because to me, him because some dumbass dipshit 18 y/o (iirc) is very important, I want him to be able to sound very confident one moment and then doubting himself entirely the next, and Rex Splode in Invincible shows off that range really well in one fight scene
Peter - Ensign Sam Rutherford (Star Trek: Lower Decks) Peebs was a difficult one for me, because when I read the game with Aster I do a voice akin to Boy from H:TP, but that's not really a great "Peter (CKC)" Voice. The funny answer would be get Tom Holland, but I'm not here for jokes I'm here for serious head canons, so I searched my mind palace looking for dweebish dudes who sounded a bit higher pitched, and honestly Rutherford was the best pick. He's got this charming voice that easily slips into sad puppy dog but can sound confident
Mini (Cool/God) - Grimal (Hunter: The Parenting) This'll make more sense once I make the video version of this
Mini (Loser/Average) - ^Same character but like I need you to imagine a slight southern accent on it. THIS IDEA IS ENTIRELY SUPER BIASED BUT I ALWAYS HEADCANON THAT MINI NATURALLY HAS A BIT OF A SOUTHERN ACCENT INHERITED FROM KATY WHO HAS A MUCH STRONGER ACCENT AND I AM WILLING TO DIE ON THIS HILL
Juvie - Jay (Jay & Silent Bob/Other View Askew projects) DO NOT FOR THE LIFE OF YOU THINK OF JUVIE SAYING ANY DIRECT JAY QUOTES, JUST IMAGINE JAY READING OUT SOME JUVIE LINES. That aside, Juvie in my mind has a raspier voice, and while Aster does it amazing as *incredibly* raspy, lorewise that's not so good, but Jay has this slight raspiness and a good aloof tone
Holden - My brain is fighting on whether Holden is Alex Eggleston (Yiik: a postmodern RPG) or Michael (Yiik: a postmodern RPG) but I'm leaning more towards Alex. I think Holden sounds the oldest of the main cast, but as I understand, lorewise Daniel should, which I've elected to ignore because I know a better voice for Daniel
GG - I dunno, I'd probably find the right voice if I rewatched all the JelloApocalypse stuff again, but off the top of my head either Percy (Epithet Erased) or Weh (Dogs in Love) I think GG generally sounds very apathetic and/or monotone.
Peggy - Zora Salazar (Epithet Erased) just imagine her as more nervous.
Daniel - Zee Bashew (D&D Youtuber I like), this one's very personal but I actually find it difficult to imagine a wizened wizard in D&D without at least somewhat thinking of Zee. Zee to me is like the very definition of "Person who sounds like they know alot about D&D". I think of Zee's "Everybody's lying about dice" video specifically
Rhyme - Okay I spent the most time looking for Rhyme's voice, because I think that Rhyme should sound young while still being imposing & serious, which as one could guess is difficult, and I had to drop that, so I've decided to land on Agent Carolina (Red vs Blue) I wish I could say a specific Carolina moment which sells me on it, but I don't wanna start a while rewatch if RvB rn
#leave the demon to its demons#Also someone's gonna fucking hate my voice hc for Holden but hey that comes with the territory
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Sunday Excerpts, Home in Narnia, Ch. 1, Verity POV, pt. III
@vsnotresponding @olive-riggzey
It had every imaginable and unimaginable chore on it. Dishes, dusting, shoveling the driveway, cooking, and much more.
“Mother, when do you want this done?” Verity asked.
“That’s for tonight. There’s more for tomorrow.”
Lao’s eyes bugged. She was certain that they were sharing the same thoughts. This would take far longer than five hours.
“Stop staring, and get working.”
“It’s so long, it’ll take time to read.” Lao said in a monotone voice.
“Then read faster. I’ll be in my room. When I come out, I better find two busy-bees.”
Her mother left the two of them in their shock. The door shut a little too loudly, and the anxieties poured out of Verity. “She wants me to be her slave.” She said in a frantic whisper.
“Not even the boarding masters give this many chores to delinquent students.” Lao said with a glare. “We couldn’t finish this by midnight!”
“Do you think I could pass as a boy? Be Veros?”
“Might be hard when you get…breasts….” Lao said, and she noticed his eyes remained precisely on her face and nowhere else. In another situation, it would be rather funny to see Lao be so awkward about her budding breasts.
“The authorities will say that it is her right.” Verity said with folded arms.
“There’s a boy at our school that I’m pretty sure is abused.” Lao said. “A teacher reported to an authority, and they didn’t do anything. Said it was a private matter. He has bruises.”
“And he’s a boy. I’m a girl.”
“A stupid notion. Boys should do house chores too. Who wants to be an unpaid maid for the rest of their life?”
“No one.” Verity said in a monotone voice.
After a slight pause, Lao asked. “Should we get started? I can take on most of these, if you want to do the easier chores.”
“Do you really mind–”
“I’m not the one stuck here.” Lao said.
“Thanks.” Verity said, and she kissed his cheek again.
Lao’s whole body went stiff, and he cleared his throat. “Alright, for starters–”
The two of them went over the list, and Lao took the most demanding chores. With some exploration they realized that the kitchen appeared like it hadn’t been cleaned the whole time Verity had been gone. There were cockroaches, and she saw a mouse run across the tiled floor.
“Yeah, I can do the kitchen.”
“I really can do it–”
“No.” Lao said.
They went around the house more, determining which rooms were dirtiest. The bathroom’s were wretched, and Lao offered to take those too. The cleanest room was the main room, and that would be the one that Verity would do. The backyard was full of weeds, but it wasn’t the same nastiness that permeated the rest of the house, so she offered to do that as well.
The two of them took on their separate chores, and Verity’s mind spun while she scrubbed away grime on the coffee table, vacuumed the dusty carpet, and wiped off the sitting chairs at least three times for each chair.
These were the easy chores, and she was getting tired. Lao was doing the more difficult ones, but he wouldn’t be here forever. No, in a matter of two weeks, he would be going off to school with the others.
She would be staying behind here, working away. Her mother periodically came to check on her, and her fingers tightened around the rag she used to clean. Verity would never see anyone, but that dreadful woman for months and months on end.
It was unthinkable.
She finished cleaning the main room, and she went to check on Lao. His hair, which almost always was in a long black braid, was currently tied up in a high bun. He had pink rubber gloves on, and he was ferociously scrubbing at a stain on a plate that looked like it had crusted over months prior.
He had yet to notice that she was in the same room as him. Lao had been in here for at least two hours, and hardly a dent had been made in the dishes.
An unutterable idea flitted across her mind. She could run away. Live somewhere else. Pretend to have no records, and be an orphan. Their world wasn’t kind to orphans or little girls, and it stayed stuck in her mouth.
Leaving Lao, she went back to do her other chores. She probably should have started with the outside, but it was cold. She was to get rid of icicles, shovel the driveway full of snow, and do much more.
She put on her winter coat and mittens again, and she grabbed the shovel from the garage. It was nearly as tall as she was. With her back bent, she started to shovel away the foot of snow. Her mind wandered with repetitive work. How bad could it be to run away? Surely, the streets were better than this. At least the homeless had variety, and perhaps they would be kind to her. If they weren’t kind to her, it wouldn’t be the same hurt of knowing that one’s mother hated her. She was the less preferred daughter. Alina was never asked to stay home from boarding school. Was it because her sister had been docile? Verity tried her best to hold her tongue, but it was a bit difficult when around her mother.
After being in the cold for who knew how long, her fingers started to become numb. She rested down her shovel in the snow, and she rubbed her hands together. This was impossible. Lao was doing the hard work, she would simply die without him. Her own mother would work her into a ditch.
Her body shivered, and she remembered how she hadn’t had lunch or dinner. Her stomach grumbled impossibly loud, and she cursed under her breath. Lao was probably still stuck doing the high pile of dishes with food caked on them for months on end.
The night was waning on, and Verity wondered how long the two of them had been working. She had been outside for at least two hours, hadn’t she? The driveway to her home was long and wide. Would Ray and Lee show up soon? What would she tell Ray? Would he care? He tended to have a blindspot towards their mother.
Down the road, she saw her father’s car. He had been more distant since Alina’s death, but surely he would fight for her not to be a slave. Due to the heavy snow, her father parked on the side of the road. He got out of the car, and he shook his head at the foot of snow in their driveway.
She ran towards him. “Dad!” She wrapped her arms around him, something that hadn’t been done in far too long. No hug was returned, but she didn’t let that dampen her spirits. “Dad! I missed you.”
“You should get back to working, Verity. The driveway is impossible.”
Her heart fell at the lack of affection returned. It was moments like these, that she wished she had been an orphan like Lao.
“Dad, she wants me to quit school. You’ll help me return, right–”
“It was my idea.” Her father said.
The wind bit at her cheeks. “What?”
“I can’t possibly do the housework myself. Your mother has been insufferable since Alina died. I thought it was a good solution to have you stay home and do the work yourself.”
“I want to learn, daddy.” Verity said.
“I’m sorry, Verity. Sacrifices need to be made.”
Without further word, her father went to return into the house. “I’ll be trapped.” Verity said in a small voice.
“You’ll be helping your family. What you’re supposed to do. Stop complaining and get this driveway cleared. The neighbors don’t like when I park on the side of the road.”
“Will you help me?” Verity asked.
“I’ve been working all day. It’s nearly 9:00 PM. I’m sure you can do it yourself.”
Her father went into the house, and the door shut behind him. Tears poured down her face, freezing to her cheeks.
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"Fascinating." Whip, despite the near monotone, is interested. The occult is not his exact area of expertise, but Shawn's exploits and, of course, the handful of cases he's read about where a psychic or soothsayer of some sort had consulted on and in fact helped the investigation did make him wonder if he should look into bringing in more books about the subject.
At least, those that focused on how such abilities could be used in the art of crime solving. "I do my best to ensure all my patrons are satisfied with my wide breadth of offerings— The spirits included." AT least Shawn's spirits. Whip didn't know any spirits personally.
"That is what your gift is for, I believe— we are mere mortals with the usual thoughts and simple routines; your ability to converse with the spirit realm is an unfair advantage...for criminals I mean." To Whip himself, it was an admirable trait and one he hoped to see more of in the future (helping out on that one case was more than enough danger than he ever needed, but it was still the most exciting thing he's ever been involved with).
"I have not— I'm saving it for..." His voice lowers for no reason seeing as they were alone in the bookstore. "I have sent a correspondence to Mister Saberwait's publishing house. I am hoping to secure a book reading at this very bookstore." His voice suddenly perks up, like the prospect of Phillip Saberwait being right here, in his own humble store was simply too much to bear.
"Could you imagine? The man himself? Reading to us all? I'm hoping to receive confirmation this week, but I shan't sneak even a peek at the first chapter. I would love for the first pages to be read in person."
just…in the neighborhood - whip & shawn
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