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fairykazu · 7 months

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youre dating me! not him! ft. lyney࿐࿔ ✦cws: est. relationship, otome game (i.e. love and deepspace), rafayel my beloved, jealousy, feminine terms are used but reader is gender neutral, crackpost, lyney is trying to be batman to save chaos from gotham (his brain) and ooc ✦masterlist

lyney noticed something off with his girlfriend, giggling on their phone and of course, he thinks that youre either chatting away with your own friends or youve picked up a new hobby.

you have plenty of hobbies but you so happen to be invested in fandom culture.

hes well aware of how you read fanfiction on those websites, totally not because he snooped on your phone and accidentally found them. he will admit though that they are pretty well written, and he did steal some of the tropes and some of the pick up lines just to flirt and fluster you.

but you're not intensely reading fanfiction because you don't have the face, the "oh my god???" or "OH MY GODDD..... ?!?!?!?" so clearly, you're playing something else here. but you were being sneaky!

every time he tries to peek over, you hid your screen, turn off your phone. hell, you even invested into a privacy phone screen. although, these signs do sound like cheating. it most definitely is not because well… to put it lightly, you’re kind of a loser (affectionate) but its his favorite trait of yours!!!

…

wow.

that sounded more backhanded than he intended.

but he has to solve this mystery before the world falls to chaos…

he’s just going to “borrow” your phone. he had a plan and everything. he knew exactly what he was going to do. wait until you sleep, unlock your phone and find out your biggest secret at the moment.

but instead, midway of his plan, you had light mode on??? why are you the devil? knowing he was going to sneak onto your phone, you put your themes to light mode. its a sneak attack on his very character!

a bright light burned his eyes as he lowered the brightness because he will power through!! but he was being too loud when he was putting in your phone password.

lyney noticed you were waking up, quickly hiding your phone under a pillow case. as you yawned, you turned on the lamp, peeling open your eyes, “…mhmm, hey, lyney why are you up?”

“well, i couldnt sleep.” he replied back, snaking his arms around you. you laugh,

“is anything keeping you up?” funny you ASK, the joker of his heart !! you shifted in your side of the bed, facing his way. “ow, what the hell?” you reached under your pillowcase, “huh, why is my phone here?”

lyney, sweating, “um, maybe you forgot?”

“its even unlocked!”

“woww… wonder how it got there.”

silence filled the air as the both of you just stare at each other. well, he looked at your eyes with unwavering confidence and a midge of fear and you were straining your half asleep eyes at your boyfriend.

“lyney…”

“um… dont know! okay, fine i did it.”

“if you wanted to know, you can.” you handed him your phone, clearly even more suspicious. not really. he really wanted to get into this dark knight hero guy character.

he swiped through and nothing hut a new game. “oh! dont click that…”

“why?” he clicked on it anyway. he was met with kind of realistic men, painting, winking and other actions. its not as bad as he thought. or even, kind of typical girlfriend behavior.

hearing the theme song, you sighed, rubbing your temples. your tone was embarassed, “i.. its an otome game. i thought it would be weird—”

you met eye contact with lyney as you nervously laughed. “because its a dating simulator.”

“huh.”

“yeah…”

you could tell he was processing it in his mind. “wait, youre dating me,”

“yes.”

“and youre playing otome games, which is, dating sims.”

“yes…”

“but youre dating me! not him! ive been feeling neglect lately and you were gone in your prtend world of these…” he looks at the home screen. “very attractive suitors while i waste away to our homelife, trying to be better.”

“good narrative, babe.”

“thank you, i made it on the spot. wait, no, dont distract me!!” he made himself sound serious. “all jokes aside though, im glad it was a game. i thought it was more something serious.”

“such as?”

“like cheating! and i know how that sounds and i know you wouldn’t but the way you acted made it seem bad.”

he saw you load in the information he just gave you and you began to apologize. “dont worry, you just have to pay attention to me and i guess, whoever is on ‘amor and deepabyss’.”

“sounds like a plan!”

#astronetwrk #lyney x reader #lyney x gn reader #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fanfics #gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact

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kaedehararchives · 7 months

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AITA FOR BEING COLD TO A STRANGER FOR BEING WEIRD BUT THEY ENDED UP BEING THE GIRL I LIKED FROM MY CHILDHOOD ??? FT. SCARAMOUCHE ! cw: informal writing, ooc, modern au, plotless ?, crackpost, use of kys/kms jokes, ip address leak (NOT REAL!!! i dont condone this in real life. i think it's kind of in character for scaramouche) note: i think scaramouche using reddit for advice is funny. i might use this for a diff character. i didn't really have a plan for this one

scaramouche isn't the type of person to ask for advice. so why is he on the infamous site, reddit? well, he doesn't want to ask people knowing that he has weaknesses so obviously, he's here.

r/thehatguy aita for treating someone for being weird? i know how that title sounds but bear with me. i (M17) come from a predominantly rich family that is known internationally. when this person (GN17) came up to me, being all weird, acting like i know them. i was thinking that they were going to use me for connections / money / fame / etc. i didn't want that to slide obviously so i told them (dis)respectfully to fuck off. despite, my warning messages, they kept persistently to be friendly with me. in my personal opinion, i hate clingy people especially when we first met.

i tried my best to be civil with them and ignore / avoid them and their super weird-clingy-cringe advances. but she KEEPS thinking we know each other from somewhere. it's getting annoying... and frankly, i did get a tad angry with her and

after typing up a post, he already had gotten a few responses.

replies: detectivelover69 nta they prob deserved it thehatguy [OP] thats what im saying

thank god someone agrees with me. until he kept scrolling.

hydronarwhal idk why would u be weird to someone js because they want to be friends with you thehatguy [OP] why wouldn't u be mean to someone who keeps trying to be friends with u hydronarwhal dude i think you have some issues thehatguy [OP] did u read it right? read it again for me hydronarwhal just because ur rich doesnt mean they want ur money bro thehatguy [OP] 192.1xx.x.xx

after this conversation with this guy "hydronarwhal", he had enough of this. clearly, that guy is sick in the head. blocking the account from seeing his post, he went to sleep. well, he will check the comment section after he had a well-rested night.

one more won't hurt.

bobaya nah thats weird. i get you on that using people for connections thehatguy [OP] finally, thank you beetlefighter101 wait ur weird asf for leaking someone's ip address thehatguy [OP] that's just the celluar data tower they're using beetlefighter101 what do they use thehatguy [OP] t-mobile hydrowhales0612 can u not?

---

is he an idiot for leaving his notifications on for every app? yes. he is because why did his post that he was sure no one would really see due to the flood of aita posts, get l

[notification: reddit +1] adornthenight are u sure ur giving the full story?

adornthenight are u sure ur giving the full story? thehatguy [OP] duh... why wouldnt i?

r/thehatguy aita for treating someone for being weird (two updates)

#vidia’s archive #[written 2/25/24]#genshin angst #scaramouche x reader #kaedehararchives: unfin

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neewtmas · 7 months

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ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙʙᴇʏ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ // ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴠɪ

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 3.6k

summary: a case that takes longer than expected, an unrequited crush, and the hardest decision you ever had to make

masterlist series masterlist

taglist: @maraschinomerry @sstrawberriel @poisonquinzell @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @the-high-lady-of-3am-crackposts @oblivious-idiot @bobbys-not-that-small @myownpainintheass @taygrls @marinalor @y0urm0m12 @fearlessmoony @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @quack-quack-snacks @ahead-fullofdreams @aphroqite (if you wanna be added or removed, just tell me)

For a while, you continued like this - Emily and George reading and taking notes, you fighting your way through the text in front of you without much success.

"Have you found anything interesting?"

You jumped at the question that broke the silence so suddenly, realising that Emily was talking to you and not George. You glanced over at her before you quickly averted your eyes again.

"Not really", you mumbled, and you could feel your skin prickle from the embarrassment of having her call you out like that. In front of George, of all people.

You jumped again as you felt her hand coming to rest on your arm.

"Are you okay? You look a little pale."

You tensed. Was she making fun of you? But her smile and the concern in her eyes seemed genuine.

"I'm fine", you said, but the slight shaking in your voice proved otherwise.

She got up, her chair scraping loudly over the floor.

"Come with me, I'll get you something to drink."

You looked over to George, who nodded encouragingly before he returned his focus to his book.

A glass of water did sound good, and it would be a chance to get out of the small corner of the library that had started to feel suffocating.

You followed Emily back to her desk in the front, where she rummaged through a little cabinet under the table and pulled out a bottle of water and a cup.

She handed you the filled cup and turned around to open the window, letting in some fresh air.

"How is it, being an agent?", she asked while you sipped on your water.

"It's … I don't know." You stared down into your cup, thinking about all the near-death experiences you had in your time as an agent. "It can be scary, and dangerous. But the people you work with make it better."

She chuckled. "That's true, coworkers can make or break it. Honestly, I don't know how you do it, I could never handle working with my boyfriend every single day. I'd be scared we'd get sick of each other eventually."

She must have noticed your furrowed brows and confused expression.

"George?", she added. "Isn't he your boyfriend?"

You could tell immediately that your face was in the process of taking on the colour of her bright red sweater.

"George? No! Why would you think that?", you croaked out, trying to keep your composure. What was she on about?

Emily laughed brightly. "I just thought I picked up on some vibes between you two." Her eyes sparkled as she leaned closer to you, and for a moment she reminded you of Lucy. "But you know, never say never."

You choked on your sip of water and had to put the cup down before you spilt it all over the floor. She winked at you and made her way back into the other room, while you had to take a few seconds to recuperate.

You smoothed down your shirt and cleared your throat before you followed her. Had you interpreted it all wrong? Just a few minutes ago you could have sworn she was flirting with George. And who could blame her? You'd do the same if he hadn't made it clear to you several times that he wasn't interested.

As pathetic as it was, you felt relieved that this gorgeous girl didn't seem to be interested in your best friend. But when you turned the corner to where you'd been reading, the sight of them sitting next to each other still made your stomach turn. After all, just because she wasn't interested in him, didn't mean he wasn't interested in her.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It was mid-afternoon when you left to catch the train back. You had been somewhat successful and George had a few pages of notes - that truthfully, you didn't contribute much to.

Your head was a jumbled mess, and you felt an intense need to be alone for a while, just to sort out your thoughts. Too much had happened in the last few days, and at this point, you didn't know what to think anymore.

No words were exchanged between you and George, not on the walk to the train, not during the train ride. When you walked back through the fields to the manor, you let yourself fall back. George didn't seem to mind, he was clutching his notes and you knew his mind was probably far away, thinking over everything you had found out so far.

The sun warmed your skin, and you closed your eyes, soaking it in for a moment. The thoughts in your head were quieting down as you filled your lungs with fresh air, and you tried your best to push them into a far corner of your mind. As soon as you were back in London, you would have a chance to think everything over properly. Maybe you had to go through with it, even though your heart hurt just thinking about it.

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Just a few hours later, you were walking up the driveway. The manor towered at its end, backlit by the light from the setting sun which made it look far more threatening than in the afternoon. The sound of your rapier hilts clinging against the metal of the belts slung over your torsos accompanied the crunch of the gravel under your boots. Other than that, an eery silence had taken over the scenery. The few birds that you had heard chirping during the day were quiet now, and the slight breeze that had ruffled the bushes flanking the walkway had died down completely.

You felt only marginally better prepared than yesterday. Over some sandwiches that Lucy and Lockwood had brought, you had talked through your findings of the day. It seemed as if everyone Lucy and Lockwood had talked to in their - rather mediocre - getup as tourists had roughly the same opinions - the Blackwoods were a family that highly valued their privacy and lived secluded in their manor, with no real association to anyone else. There were rumours that the son's attendance at the boarding school wasn't entirely of his own accord, and talks about how Blackwood's daughter - Genevieve - was rejecting any and all advances and wasn't planning on getting married anytime soon. Not that there was anything wrong with that, you thought, but it seemed to be a big topic of discussion in these circles. As for George and you, your findings largely matched those of Lockwood and Lucy. There hadn't been much that hadn't already been available in the archives in London, and so you stepped into this case more or less still clueless about what the origin of the haunting could be.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You were greeted by the butler at the front door.

"Miss Blackwood is waiting for you", was all he said, and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Lockwood looking at him weirdly. Like he had just realised something.

You didn't get to ponder too long over that though, as the butler led you into the dining room where you had had dinner just last evening. Genevieve Blackwood stood with her back to you but turned around as you entered.

Her face lit up with a smile, that for some reason had your stomach churning. Something about her…

She walked over to you, heels loud on the hardwood floor beneath her long black dress.

"I'm so glad you're finally here", she said brightly, then furrowed her brows. "Unfortunately, my father is still in a state that doesn't allow him to speak to you. We have decided to still go through with it to not take up more of your precious time."

Lockwood adjusted his rapier. "We appreciate -"

The sound of a door opening behind you interrupted him. You turned around, and in the doorframe stood an elderly woman in a bathrobe. Her hands were shaking slightly, and she looked a little dazed.

"Genevieve, darling", she said, voice quiet and breathy. "Where is he? You promised me -"

"Not now", Genevieve hissed, and you felt a shiver run down your back at the venom in her voice. "Can't you see that now is not the time?" She looked over to the butler, who gave her a curt nod and grabbed the woman by the arm. He led her out of the room, ignoring her protest, and for a moment, the sound of the door falling shut behind them was the only sound in the room.

You exchanged a look with George, who stood next to you. Genevieve Blackwood cleared her throat. She looked paler than before. "You must excuse her. She doesn't know what is going on around her. Now, the sun is setting, and we better get this over with quickly."

She led you through more corridors until she reached a large double door at the end of a hallway, that was ornately decorated with flowers and vines carved into the wood, along with iron moulded to fit some of the flowers.

"Behind that door is the wing of the house that is affected by the haunting. This door keeps it from spreading to the rest of the house, which is why we are still living here. I trust you to handle it from here."

She nodded and then walked away swiftly. Lockwood looked after her before he turned to you. "Are you ready?"

With affirmation from all of you, he slowly pushed down the handle. The door opened smoothly and swung open into the dark hallway that lay beyond. It was dimly lit from the last daylight coming through the windows that lined the wall. It didn't look too different from the other hallways you had walked through so far, with the exception that in this one, big oil paintings hung on the wall, showing portraits of the family members.

Lockwood was the first to enter. You followed him and when you crossed over the threshold, it was like stepping outside on a cold winter day. You pulled the sleeves of your jumper down so that they covered part of your hands, then reached for your flashlight.

Without much talking, you dispersed. Lucy moved down the hallway, the end of which lay in complete darkness. She kept her hands on the wall, and her eyes closed, full focus on any supernatural echoes and sounds. Lockwood trailed behind her, keeping an eye on her, ready to step in if anything were to go wrong. George had immediately started taking the temperature at different points of the hallway and scribbled down the readings in his small, tattered notebook.

You on the other hand had turned on your flashlight, moving the beam of light slowly over the walls. The paintings were shiny in the light, the shadows cast by the slight movements of your hand making them look almost alive. You stepped closer to inspect the little plaque that was hammered into the ornate wooden frame. Agatha Blackwood was engraved there, along with a birth year that indicated the woman on the portrait to be in her mid-seventies now. You pointed the flashlight back up and took a closer look at her face.

"That's Lord Blackwood's sister. The woman we saw earlier."

You almost dropped your flashlight as George's voice suddenly sounded so close to your ear. He had appeared behind you, looking over your shoulder at the painting.

"Don't sneak up on me like that in the dark", you hissed, trying to gather yourself.

He chuckled. "Maybe you just need to pay more attention to your surroundings. I could have been a ghost after all."

You huffed. "Pull something like that again and you might end up as one."

You made your way over to the next painting and missed the way his lips curled into a fond smile before he followed you.

You came to a halt in front of a portrait of a man that you identified as Lord Blackwood before you even read the name plaque. He looked exactly how you imagined him, but there was something about him that you didn't like. Maybe his piercing blue eyes, that felt like they were staring right into your soul. You turned to George. "Do you -" Your voice got stuck in your throat as you saw his expression. He was staring up at the portrait with wide, glossy eyes, lips slightly parted. "George?" No reaction. You nudged him once, twice, this time harder. With a gasp, he stumbled a little, breaking eye contact with the painting.

"George?" He looked at you, the far-away look he had just seconds ago was gone.

"Yeah?"

"Are you… okay?"

He adjusted his glasses. "Yes. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

You hesitated. You didn't want to bring up what his reaction had reminded you of, because you knew he didn't like to talk about it. But that look in his eyes… you felt a wave of dread wash over you at the thought of the boneglass and its effects, especially on George. It hadn't been that long, and none of you knew exactly how much it had really affected him.

"No reason", you finally said, deciding to just keep an eye out for George. Not like that wasn't what you were doing at all times anyway.

You stepped closer, trying to ignore the way the hairs on your arm stood up. You aimed the flashlight at the lower part of the painting.

The Lord was a few years older than his sister, you noted.

Without thinking about it, almost involuntarily, you reached out for the frame but immediately flinched away again as your fingers brushed over it. It was ice cold.

"George", you said quietly. He had gone off to take more temperature readings. Within seconds, he was by your side again. "What is it?"

"What's the temperature here?"

He looked down at the thermometer and pressed a few buttons.

"6°C", he said slowly. "That's much colder than anywhere else." He reached out for the frame just like you did, and just like you he pulled his hand away quickly.

"That's… interesting." You could practically see him thinking.

"Check the other paintings, I'll get Lockwood and Lucy. We might be onto something here."

You nodded and he hurried down the hallway. It was completely dark now, and with a last look at Lord Blackwood, you made your way back to Agatha Blackwood's portrait. A shiver ran down your spine, and if you didn't know any better, you could have sworn you felt his eyes burn into the back of your head as you walked away.

Every portrait you checked was the same - cold, but not overly so. So when you gathered back in front of Lord Blackwood, you all knew that this was it.

"Why his portrait though?" Lucy asked. She had her hand firmly pressed against it and her eyes closed.

"I'm getting nothing from it. It's just really cold."

Lockwood aimed his flashlight up.

"I might have an idea", he slowly said. "But I'm not sure yet. What's behind this wall?"

George pointed over to a door a few feet down the corridor.

"Let's try this door."

It opened easily and led to a study. A large desk stood facing the door, and tall shelves filled to the brim with books were lining the walls.

The glow of your flashlights had a hard time penetrating the darkness that somehow felt heavier than outside. Dust particles danced in the air, and Lockwood, who was last, secured the door - your way out, should things go south. Then he went to get the two bags of equipment you had brought but had left standing at the double door, while you and Lucy started to thoroughly check the room.

It was immediately clear that you were in the right place. The temperature had dropped noticeably, so much so that you were slightly shivering now, despite your warm sweater. You were feeling along the wall right next to the door, at whose other side lay the hallway. The textured wallpaper felt rough under your fingertips, and there was a constant, static noise that felt far away and unnervingly close at the same time. You moved slowly, mentally preparing for any flashback or rush of emotion that might be waiting for you after the next step, but nothing happened. The wall just felt progressively older, and you knew you must be getting closer to the spot where the portrait was attached to the other side of the wall.

Then suddenly, you had reached the corner. Or rather, a heavy, velvet curtain that was draped over what should be the wall. With a little difficulty, you pulled it aside to reveal another wooden door. Without thinking, you pushed down the handle. The door creaked open, and you raised your flashlight, the other hand on the hilt of your rapier as you kicked it open further. It seemed to be an extension of the study, with the same towering bookshelves, and another two desks, slightly smaller than the one in the room behind your back.

You stepped into the room, flashlight raised and your other hand resting on the hilt of your rapier. In the warm glow of the flashlight, the room looked almost inviting - but it didn't feel like it. Immediately upon entering, you could feel your skin prickling. The static noise had slowly increased in volume, and you could feel the beginning of a slight headache forming behind your temples.

You hesitated. Maybe you shouldn't be in here alone. Just at that moment, Lockwood called for you. You took a few tentative steps backwards until you felt safe to turn around. Lucy was in the opposite corner, still feeling around the books, while George was laying out an iron circle.

"What's behind that door, (name)?", Lockwood asked.

"Two desks and more books. It seems like it's just a connection between those two rooms."

Lockwood thought for a moment.

"Alright, then we'll split up. Lucy and I will stay here. George and (name), you take the other room. Put a chair and some iron at the door so that it won't close."

You tried to keep a neutral expression, but on the inside, you were screaming. Of course, you'd split up. Of course, Lockwood had you and George working together. You wondered if Lucy realised just how protective he was over her. How he'd never leave her alone in the presence of a ghost if he didn't have to. You're chest tightened. It must be nice to have someone care about you that much.

George grabbed the second bag, and the two of you moved over into the other room. With two flashlights, the space was considerably better-lit, and you took a while to slowly walk around and take everything in.

Your flashlight wandered over a row of books, and you tilted your head to read the titles. "What do you think the source is?", you asked eventually, just to break the silence. Surely, George already had several different theories, and it was unusual that he hadn't yet shared them with you.

He took a while to reply, and when he did his voice sounded shaky.

"I'm not sure."

You furrowed your brows and turned around. He stood with his back to you in front of one of the bookshelves.

"George?"

You expected him to turn to you, but he didn't. He didn't move at all, the hand holding his flashlight hanging limply by his side.

Anxiety was twisting your insides as you rushed over to him, hand on his shoulder to turn him around. He blinked and scrunched his eyes together as you shone the light in his face.

"George, what is going on?", you asked, hating the way your worry for him was so clearly audible in your voice.

He put his hand on yours and pushed down the flashlight.

"Stop that, you're gonna make me blinder than I already am. I told you, I'm fine. Just feeling a little tired, that's all."

You did not believe him.

"Something is wrong with you!"

He laughed dryly. "There are a lot of things wrong with me. And maybe I'm feeling a little out of it today, who cares?"

You wanted to shake him, scream in his face that you cared, you cared so much, and that he was putting himself in danger because something was clearly not right. Maybe the aftereffects of the boneglass were still lingering, and he just didn't want to admit that.

You took a step back from him, feeling defeated.

"I'm gonna go set up an iron circle."

While you went to gather the chains, George began pulling open the drawers in the cabinet under one of the desks. You didn't get very far with opening the bag and kneeled to take a closer look at the zipper, that seemed to be stuck. Behind you, you heard paper rustling and George muttering under his breath.

"(name)?" George's voice was quiet, maybe a little unsure.

"Mhm?" You leaned further down, moving the zipper back and forth, trying to get it loose while you waited for him to continue.

He mumbled something you didn't quite catch, and you were about to ask him to speak up, but his next words left you frozen in place.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, just the way I always dreamed about and wished for. I love you more than you could ever know."

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thank you for reading :)

#george karim x reader #george karim #lockwood and co #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood & co #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood and co x you #lockwood & co x you

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karmawonders · 2 years

Note

Congrats on 800 followers!!!

Ever since I learned about SAGAU, I have been nervous to play music (idk why though??) But I listen to people like Cupcakke and Ayesha and now I'm wondering what the acolytes' reactions would be to the creator playing weird music ^^

🌸Thank you, thank you!🌸

Ahh, I do enjoy myself some good Cupcakke and Ayesha. I got both of em on my playlist, haha! I listen to some pretty out there music as well, if hyper-pop counts as weird. Who knows~ Anyway somehow this became Consort!Diluc and I apologize, my brain went running with this ask and it became.. this.

Warnings: Sexual Content. Cult and Self Aware AU. Somewhat Yandere.

Contents: This could be considered a crackpost at some points. Includes the song squidwards nose / commentary from because I bop to it, aight? . There is mention of "holy dildo." Forgive me i thought it was funny. Diluc is completely devoted to you(he wants to be your consort) and is suddenly worried about his dick size. Not beta read we die like rex-lapis.

Anyway!

I imagine it would be a normal day like any other in Mondstadt. The city is bustling, Flora giving people cute little flower crowns to promote her flower shop, bards singing about various topics and styles, Knights of Favonius helping people find lost cats, etc etc.

In the middle of the town square, stands your current puppets (thats what I call the"vessles" in my au) , in this case the traveller. I imagine depending on the emotional connection/friendship level you have to each of your puppets, people can sometimes hear you through them. Like a walking speaker or smth.

Since the twins don't got a friendship level, its just the equivalent of maxed out. They're crafting up some condensed resin for you, since you were AFK and they knew you were going to do so anyway. They were doing their best to ignore the loud music that they are emitting whilst doing so, Timaeus and others looking at them with wide eyes.

It isn't often your non-puppets hear obvious signs of the creator themselves, ya know! Literally everyone likes listening to you, whether it's Lofi music, rock, pop, or your voice itself!

Whenever they hear your voice from one of your more connected puppets, everyone is just filled with bubbles of happiness and excitement. Like! yay! I am directly in the High Gods presence! Sorta! Not really but its stilly exciting!

This time though, its a bit more of a "Ayo what the fuck?" sort of feeling instead of the usual.

Loudly blaring from their beings, was Cupcakke, and the iconic song "Squidward Nose".

Jean? Red faced, making sure no children are in the area, hands covering her face as she does her best, and fails, to think on who "dora the explorer" is, instead thinking about her god wanting a dick apparently as large as "squidwards nose". She has the church and the sisters notate this in a book. Might be some form of holy dildo or something, who knows.

Lisa is laughing her ass off the entire time, patting her on the back as she helps annotate notable things in the song with a few of the sisters from the Cathedral. Gotta keep their holy bible updated, afterall. She is tempted to write a new thesis for the scholars at Sumeru just for kicks and giggles about how their High God could potentially be more human than formerly assumed. She has a great new evidence, after all~ then again, the scholars at Sumeru are batshit crazy, so many not.

Venti is right at the travellers side, committing the song to his memory the best he can. Definitely getting in the way of them actually crafting the Resin, much to the twin's annoyance. He is always at whoevers side when you are playing any type of music, the music is completely new to him after all. You can bet he will be doing his best to sing the song at any late night tavern performances, even if he isn't getting all the references outside the obvious sexual stuff. Its an instant hit at Angels share, not just because Venti is singing it, but because the High God apparently likes the song as well. Also because its a great song.

Speaking of Angels Share, Diluc's face, is obviously, also as red as tomato when he hears Venti reciting the song later. He enjoys very much being a puppet, and he is definitely incredibly devoted to the High God. (aka you). He has to be devoted if he wants to fully commit himself to you, and possibly be your consort if you come down to Teyvat one day! This entire situation is completely uncouth, much to his dismay. He thinks its ruining your image before he realizes it is simply expanding it. Also, he is very upset. He is packing down there, definitely. But now he is self conscious because what if squidwards nose is better? He should honestly really kick out Venti, even is he is an Archon. Its getting in the way of his business.

Kaeya and Rosaria know about Diluc's somewhat obsessive worship and desire to be your consort, and they also know exactly why thats he is so red faced and upset and Venti's song. And because they absolutely enjoy it, they keep on giving Venti bottles of alcohol for encores of the song. And more, and more. Until Diluc has to excuse himself and leave. They are laughing the entire fuckin time. They always enjoy listening to your music whenever its playing, and they definitely agree that you should play similar songs more often. Its incredibly amusing.

🌸

Anywho's, that was fun to write! I do not know why Diluc was on the mind, but to be honest, I simp for the man highkey soooo-

Hope that was all alright for you dear Anon, and I hope you have a good day!

🌸Want to support me? Here is my Ko-fi and Masterlist!🌸

#genshin impact cult au #genshin self aware #genshin cult au #self aware genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau brain #genshin sagau #sagau brainrot #follower event #self aware genshin #cult au #Consort!diluc #diluc x reader #genshin sagau cult #genshin impact #genshin impact au #genshin impact x reader #genshin sagau brainrot #sagau crack

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zmediaoutlet · 6 months

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hiiii!!! do you have any good spn blog recs?

not at all comprehensive by any means and I shall NOT be held accountable for forgetting someone obvious and great, because my brain dunt work good, but here, have some people off the top of my head:

reliably puts dope Sam content on the ol' dash

one of the few people I follow who reliable reblogs spn stuff, which is award-winning in itself

just doing absolutely exquiz spn art that makes me !! when I see it

some of the most absolutely top-quality gifs in the biz

crackposts are good for a balanced diet

a short-lived rp blog where it is worth reading every post

recs! recs with actual opinions attached and not just a list of fic titles!

That's probably enough to be going on with. I mean look at who people reblog from, that's usually all I've got. (Also I just found out i have several blogs in my following list that say shit like 'last updated 9 years ago' lol. Hope springs eternal!)

#answers

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cheeriecherrymain · 2 years

Text

The Alchemist [Chapter 5]

Pairing: Viktor x Reader Chapter Rating: T Chapter Warning: Suggestiveness at the end, but nothing explicit Proofread: no beta we die like men Taglist: @bangtanbecks @uniquedeerwitch @underpriceddirt @the-high-lady-of-3am-crackposts Chapter Summary: You intend to meet Viktor before midnight, but it doesn’t go as planned.

By the time you get back to your apartment, the sun is lingering low in the sky, and the clock on your wall reads half past six.

After sneaking back out of the botanical gardens - a feat which proved much more difficult than getting into them - you had…taken your time walking home. After the events of the day, and more specifically the letters Viktor had written to you, you had a lot to think about.

You had hoped that a little bit of extra time outside would have cleared your head and helped you think, but the moment you step into your apartment, you’re more clouded than ever. You can’t stop going over everything - the places Viktor had chosen to leave his notes, and the memories associated with them - the way he wrote so openly about loving you, admitting to having those feelings for years.

But…what if he was still under the effects of the potions?

What if your stupid little mixtures had only made him think he was in love with you - made him read too far into things, as you currently were.

Sure, when you looked back on your memories with him, you can see how so many of his actions were done out of love. But what kind of love? He spoke of needing you in his life, but what if the potions were blowing it out of proportion?

What if he really only loved you as a friend?

You groan quietly and take a seat on the edge of your bed.

If there was a way to take away the potion effects, you wish you knew it. You wished you could just throw together some old ingredients that you kept for your ancient alchemy set, and make some kind of antidote.

After several seconds, your eyes snap open.

“What about…” you mumble, skittering over to your shelves. Lined with little pots and jars of all shapes and colours, you quickly walk your fingers over all of them, plucking a couple out to set on your desk.

There might not be an antidote, you think, tossing the idea around in your head, But perhaps there is a way to neutralize the effects. You remember once reading about a potion that could nullify the effects of poisoning - if you could alter it slightly to counteract the ingredients you’d used when you’d…

Your thoughts trail off, and you glance once more at the time.

“It’ll be close,” you mumble, and begin the arduous task ahead of you.

—

Once the final product is simmering and dripping into a little flask, you’re finally able to relax and hop into the bath.

It had taken you a couple hours to get the measurements right, but you were confident in what you’d made - it would thoroughly remove any of the effects he might be under the thrall of, but it wouldn’t remove any of his true feelings.

The only problem you can think of is getting him to ingest the damn stuff.

He had already shown reluctance to the idea of an antidote a day prior, so chances were that he’d likely still be of the same mind.

It makes you feel incredibly guilty for creating such a scheme, but you know that you’re going to have to trick him.

If he was waiting for you to come to him and return his love, then…showing up would be a means for celebration. A night to be lazy and content, just the two of you, basking in each other’s warmth and soft touches - you could celebrate with wine.

It would be easy enough to syringe a couple of doses through the cork, so he wouldn’t suspect anything unusual was going on. You’d share a couple of drinks, the neutralizer would do its thing, and if, by the end of it, he still loved you as he said he did, then there would be no ill effects: you’d continue on in your lives, happy as ever.

You let your head fall back against the edge of the tub, to stare at the ceiling. There was, of course, always the chance that your anxious thoughts were correct. The chance that your new potion would work, and that Viktor would be left feeling nothing but perplexion and perhaps anger.

If you went to him, he would know that you loved him.

Even if your plan worked, he would still know you loved him.

You shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths to try and slow your racing heart.

Maybe it was like he’d said in one of his letters; he was no longer afraid of telling you how he felt about you, because you weren’t the kind of person who would give up on so many years of friendship.

And neither was he.

Your ties to each other were too strong to let something like this break them apart.

We’ll get through it, you think, calmness finally enveloping your body.

—

Cold.

The only thing you can feel is cold.

And then, as your eyelids flutter open, confusion.

You glance drowsily around the room, trying to gather your thoughts and figure out where you were.

The bath, you think, as you stir. The once-hot water is now frigid on your skin, and the heap of bubbles atop it have all popped and dissipated. You quietly fumble around for a couple seconds to uncork the drain, and then you carefully remove yourself from the basin.

You’re a little disoriented still, but overall not surprised that you fell asleep in the tub. Your day had been busy and emotionally charged, and after running around the city all afternoon, you must have been more exhausted than you realized.

Now you just needed to go meet Viktor, and-

You freeze.

Viktor.

With a gasp, you tear out of the bathroom in search of a clock, slipping a few times as you drip onto the hardwood floors. You can’t believe you fell asleep!

You hastily grab whatever clothes you can find - the pajamas you’d left on the floor that morning - and pull them over your still-wet body. The alarm on your nightstand reads eleven forty five, so you know you don’t have a moment to waste; even if you ran as fast as you could, you’d still be cutting it close.

Once reasonably dressed, you slip a pair of shoes on and grab your keys, and run out the door without bothering to lock it behind you.

—

By the time you make it to the observatory, you’re a mess. You’re breathing hard, and you skin prickles with sweat. You’re sticky, and tired, and you’ve got scrapes on both your knees from tripping numerous times. Your clothes are twisted and pasted to your body, and your hair is an absolute mess.

To top it off, when you try to open the door to where Viktor waits, it’s locked. You’re positive that it’s past midnight by now. No more than a few minutes, but a few minutes nonetheless.

“Viktor!” you cry, knocking desperately on the door. “Let me in! I know you’re in there, still.”

He has to be, you think. Even if he’d left at precisely twelve, you would have caught him on your way up. You would have been able to explain yourself!

But not a sound comes from inside.

No rustle of clothing, no taps of cane or footsteps.

Silence.

Your desperation fades all at once, replaced by the cold ache of despair. Your body trembles as you slide down the door, into a depressed, sobbing heap. You’d missed your chance. You’d missed your chance to tell your best friend that you loved him, and even worse, he believed you didn’t love him.

Your heart cracks into pieces, to think how he must feel.

“Viktor,” your voice is raw and creaky, “Viktor let me in. I didn’t mean to be late, I promise. I promise. Please.”

Hell, you didn’t even know if you were in the right place.

What if he hadn’t been at the observatory, and you were talking to air? What if he was somewhere else entirely, and feeling as hopeless as you were because you didn’t show up? You feel stupid. Stupid for making that stupid neutralizer, stupid for wanting to take a bath, stupid for not giving yourself more time.

Stupid for doubting yourself.

Of course he loved you - you hadn’t been reading too far into it. All throughout your friendship, his kindness towards you, and his care, and his stubborn desire to make you think better of yourself? He loved you.

He loved you, and you’d fucked it up.

Stupid.

But then, like some kind of ridiculous miracle, the door opens. You tumble sideways into the room, sprawling across the floor in an uncoordinated mess. It takes a couple of seconds for you to realize what’s happening, for your brain to catch up with your body, for you to notice Viktor standing over you with an expression of perplexion.

And of hurt.

Even in the dim light, you can see the faint shine of tear tracks on his cheeks, and the slight puffiness around his eyes. The way he looks down at you in a guarded manner, the way his posture is wholeheartedly tired.

You stare up at him for a couple seconds, your bottom lip wobbling as you try in vain to swallow the lump in your throat.

“I didn’t mean to be late,” you squeak, slowly pushing yourself up into a sitting position. “I swear, I was going to show up hours ago, but…” you sniffle, and wipe at your eyes.

Viktor relaxes by a fraction and offers his hand to you, helping you to your feet while you fight to collect yourself. Though much to your surprise, he asks, “Why are you wet?”

It’s enough to make you burst into embarrassed tears, your face glowing hot as you ashamedly cry.

“I fell asleep in the bath!” you sob. “And then I woke up and it was so late and I ran here and I tripped like four times and I didn’t make it in time and-”

He presses a single, slender finger over your lips, effectively quieting your speech.

He looks entirely boggled by your explanation, and you can see him piecing things together in his head - what you’d done, where you’d been, why you’d been late. And as your story sinks in, as he gives you a once over and sees proof of your honesty, you can see the flicker of hope in his eyes.

“You meant to show up?” he asks.

You nod.

“Before midnight?”

You nod again.

“But you fell asleep. In the bath. And now you’re…damp.”

You nod for a third time, feeling rather pathetic. Your hair is still soaked, and your soft cotton pajamas have mostly absorbed the moisture from your skin, making them suction uncomfortably to your body. You’re pretty sure you can feel blood dripping down one of your calves, and your left shoe is definitely broken.

Then, Viktor laughs.

A soft, almost startled burst, at first, but it slowly turns more humoured and joyous. He pulls you in by the shoulders and wraps his arms tightly around you, unconcerned by your general dishevelment as he holds you close.

You stay like that for several moments, pressed hard against one another, unwilling to let go. You cry a little bit more while you get rid of the last of your anxiety, and he soothes you through it with gentle words and a couple of kisses to the top of your head.

“So you’re not mad at me?” you warble, and he shakes his head.

“I was never mad at you,” he promises.

You pull away from him slowly, and frown up at him. “You were upset, though,” you point out, reaching up to take his face in your hands, swiping away the tear tracks on his cheeks with your thumbs.

He turns his head slightly, to press a kiss to your palm. “I had not anticipated your rejection,” he admits, growing more serious. “You made potions so you could rid yourself of your feelings, so I thought for sure that you would come. I hadn’t considered that I might have been…wrong.”

Your frown deepens, and you ask, “You knew what the potions were supposed to do?”

Viktor at least has the decency to look guilty for his actions, and somewhat ashamed of them. “You see,” he begins, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“Why did you drink them, then!”

“I didn’t!” he protests, digging around in his pockets until he’s able to produce a small, corked vial to you. “I only drank one of them! The one that was supposed to…ah, make you happy?”

You stare at the little bottle in his hands in righteous fury, before snatching it away to get a closer look. Sure enough, the silver liquid inside is the same mixture you’d made days ago, that was meant to take away your love for him.

You turn your glare away from the vial, and back up to him.

“WHY?!”

He grabs you by the shoulders and quickly pulls you out of the doorway, further into the room. You squirm under his touch as he maneuvers you around so he can shut the door, and you continue to squirm until he starts explaining.

“Romance is…not my strong suit,” he says, his hands slowly trailing down your arms. “Technology, science, machines - that is what I’m good at, what I excel at. But relationships? Dating? Declarations of love?”

He shakes his head, somewhat embarrassed. “I never knew how to tell you,” he admits, “Nothing I could ever say felt thorough enough to truly describe the hold you have on my heart. And when I figured out what you were working on? That you had feelings for me, and that you were going to try to take them away?”

He sighs. “I panicked. I was going to tell you that night in your lab, but…”

You narrow your eyes at him. “But what?”

“But,” he continues, momentarily avoiding eye contact, “...don’t laugh. I wanted to do something spectacular for you, now that I knew you felt the same. So I took your potions, and I was going to quickly switch them in my pocket while you weren’t looking, but…”

You can see the way his cheeks light up pink, a lovely shade that travels slowly down his neck.

“But I fumbled them,” he finishes. “I messed up, and I ended up drinking one of them.”

Your anger begins to wane, as his side of the story sinks in. Part of you is still a little bit pissed off that he caused you so much grief and anxiety, but for the most part, you’re…sated. You know that he’s telling the truth, with how he wears his embarrassment on his face - it was like he’d said. Romance was definitely not his strong suit, try as he might.

You bite back a smile, “So, the sudden shift in personality…?”

Viktor sighs deeply, knowing full well you’re about to start laughing at him. “The potion was potent,” he grumbles. “For the first day and a half, all I could think about was you. How I love you, how I desire to be close to you, how I seek your praise and affection. It made me…ah…”

“A lovesick dork?” you suggest.

“Yes, dear. That.” he deadpans, as your frame starts shaking with silent giggles. “After that, I continued with the ruse to buy myself some time…and also, perhaps, because I enjoyed your attention. But I knew I couldn’t keep it up for long - not without hurting you. So…” he gestures at the room, and it’s only then that you notice how it’s been set up.

The lights are dimmed significantly, with just a few tiny lanterns set about so neither of you would trip over anything. Over by the skylight, he appears to have set up a nest - seven or eight plush blankets thrown over each other to create the perfect lounging spot, complete with pillows to lay back on. And just to the side of the comfy heap, a woven basket, full of little snacks and treats, and a couple bottles of wine.

A perfect spot for stargazing.

You glance back up at him, keeping your eyes narrowed and judgmental for a few more seconds before you cave. You were still mad at him for putting you through so much, but you supposed you could forgive him for the night.

“You’re not off the hook,” you tell him firmly, “but it is a nice night for stargazing, and that nest looks especially comfy.”

He smiles at you, pleased with your answer, and tenderly takes your face in his hands. It doesn’t take much for you to lean up on your toes to entice him into a kiss, your lips soft and pliable against his. It feels as natural and as easy as breathing, to be so close to him and to have him in such a way. How warmth radiates from his body to seep into your chilled skin.

Until he winces slightly, and pulls away.

“What?” you ask, still dazed by the kiss.

“You were not lying, when you said you were damp,” he replies sheepishly. “Would you like to go and change? You can’t possibly be comfortable, and I don’t have a spare set of clothes.”

An idea pops into your head.

Mischievous.

Dastardly.

Delectable.

“Is the door locked?” you wonder coyly.

“Yes,” he nods, “I figured it would be better if we weren’t disturbed while we were- oh.”

You can see the way his eyes widen, when you peel your shirt off and toss it over the back of the nearest chair. And the way the blush dusting across his cheeks travels all the way down his neck when you do the same with your loose cotton capris.

“You ran here in sandals?” he wonders, when you kick your shoes into a random corner.

You fix him with a halfhearted glare. “I’m naked in front of you, and that’s what you’re talking about?”

You don’t stick around to watch him grow more flustered, instead traipsing over to the blanket nest to settle down and get comfortable. It’s just as soft as it looks, and you hum in contentment as you sink into the puffy fabrics.

“Are you coming, or not?” you call to him, tossing a teasing smirk over your shoulder.

He swallows thickly and makes his way over to you, mumbling, “I do hope so, yes.”

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #The Alchemist #kind of final chapter probably #at least the final chapter that has plot #god now i need to think of more fics

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