#im so nervous posting this so im just gonna hit post and never look at this again

[bioticlaw]

Can You Tell Me Who I Am?

You wonder if zealots ever find themselves in the same position as you: lost in a paradox without a clear path. When you look at him, you see salvation, but in that salvation, you also see ruin. The Doctor gives, and the Doctor takes away. You picture yourself kneeling before his feet and feel nothing, yet you can’t see yourself following anyone else but him. Then what are you supposed to be?

PAIRING: Dottore x Reader, minor Scaramouche & Reader

CONTENT: yandere Dottore | gender-neutral reader | human experimentation, unhealthy relationships, master/pet, emotional/psychological manipulation, conditioning, religious themes, implied sexual content, dom/sub undertones, canon divergent but spoilers for sumeru archon quest! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. ( ~10k words )

NOTES: finally, after nearly two months, I can finally share what I've been brainrotting over :')))) is there a plot?? not really tbh the demons just won. this is disgustingly self-indulgent but I'd still like to dedicate this to @eanul-rambul and @hiperacid2 for sitting through my madman ramblings and making this story possible!! this can be read by itself, but if you'd like, the prequel/first part can be found here! much love, enjoy :3c // @houseofsolisoccasum

DARK CONTENT UNDER THE CUT | READ ON AO3

The people of Sumeru do not dream.

The Akasha terminals harvest it all from them to create a singular massive brain for the collective to take knowledge from. That was what the Doctor told you on your journey from Snezhnaya to the land of wisdom. As expected of him, he figures everything out without batting an eye. He never makes mistakes and he is never wrong, so what he told you can’t possibly be a lie.

A walk through the Akademiya confirms his initial findings as well. The people of Sumeru do not dream. They live in ambition and convenient, unlimited knowledge, far more valuable than a mere dream can be. It’s not your first time meeting such personalities. The longer you work with the Doctor, the more people you meet, including some of the Harbingers he doesn’t seem too particularly fond of. He seems to have a fondness for relying on your ability to judge a person. From their strengths to their weaknesses, he has you remember all of them should they decide to turn against him later.

Even if you don’t understand why he wants your insight (human emotions aren’t your area of expertise—very far from it, in fact), you have no reason not to trust him. It will become useful in the future, he said. You can do that for me, can’t you?

You can, and you will.

They say that dreaming is when the human mind becomes the most vivid. It’s where Sumeru’s knowledge all stems from: a collective mind of sorts, bountiful sciences for the academic mind to pursue. The Doctor was particularly interested in this system, so he’d taken the Akasha terminal you were given to study more closely. It wasn’t a request.

It also wasn’t something you were going to decline. It wouldn’t have made a difference regardless. With or without the terminal, just like the people of Sumeru, you do not dream. Your day ends with a period of nothingness before the new one begins and gives you a mission to complete, as per routine.

Still, you believe it is quite inconsistent with typical human behaviours you’ve observed. Every person has a dream, don’t they? Some dream of travelling the world and getting to adventure much like the golden-haired traveller and their flying companion. Some dream of a happy life for their families, and some dream of exacting revenge on certain people.

But you don’t. You don’t have a dream, though you suppose if you were ever asked about it, you’d say that it’s to serve the Doctor. It’s what you’re made for. You kill anyone he tells you to kill. You guard him from the shadows, ready to slit the throat of whoever dares lie to him. You follow every order and every whim because it is your duty—your ‘happiness,’ you think—to do so.

You always have, and you always will.

Your gaze flits over to the Doctor who stands before the giant automaton, the Shouki no Kami, that looms over him. Thanks to his insistence, the project has been progressing just as he’d like. You remember his crazed words when the idea came to him, his words an epiphany and almost choir-like among the dullness of machinery. Warmth rises to your cheeks as you watch him engrossed in his work, lost in his own world. It’s a sight that’s familiar to you, a constant in each day you spend with him.

How strange, you think. This must be the sensitivity implant he’d put in you. Not too long ago, he had expressed his interest in your responses to foreign stimuli. You weren’t made aware of when he would put it into motion, so this is entirely new. Is this what people refer to as fondness? To feel nothing but a semblance of joy when you watch someone close to you?

You try not to dwell on it and return to the task at hand. The Doctor had stationed you by the entrance to the workshop, close enough to reach when needed and not too close to disturb him. Ready to be at his beck and call, just where he likes you.

It’s quiet in the workshop save for the dull whirring of the cogs and wheels overhead. It almost fascinates you how such dreariness can exist in a lush and vibrant place like Sumeru City. The workshop, despite its hollow grandness, doesn’t seem like an optimal place to be productive. You find that it’s not that different from his laboratory back at Zapolyarny Palace. There, the windows show you nothing but snow and frost. Here, all you see is metal on every corner, drab and colourless unlike the city and its lush outskirts.

You suppose the Doctor is simply not like other people. He doesn’t need to feel the sunlight to have a change of mood. He doesn’t share their composition, either; this much you know thanks to the nights where he’d lay himself bare for your recalibration. It’s one of many secrets you keep for him.

Something hits the floor with a loud clang, making you snap out of your reverie. Right, you have a job to do. He hates it when people zone out. His patience has been running thin to begin with thanks to the ‘tedious and menial’ conversations he’s had to have with other researchers. Aggravating him further is nowhere near the decision you must choose to make.

While you always do as he says without question, doing nothing proves to be possibly the most arduous task you’ve done. You don’t feel anxious or afraid—you can hardly feel anything at all, but you’re lost, so to speak. It’s out of routine and order to only be on standby.

“—Why don’t you escort the grand sage to safety?” His voice breaks the silence and echoes in the chamber, bringing you back to the present. “I unfortunately have my hands full and can’t see to it myself. Could you do that for me?”

There’s a lighthearted tone to his words. He must be excited to finally make use of the puppet he’s been working so hard on. In just a matter of a few seconds, the long-awaited plan is going to come to fruition and as always, you will be there to witness it.

“Of course, Doctor.”

(Anything.)

“Come back to me when you’re done. I’d like you to stay close in case any… complications occur.”

When you return, a couple of mechanics are tinkering away at the automaton. Finishing touches, you assume. You’re not entirely sure what the process entails. The Doctor hasn’t told you much about this project. All you’ve had so far is bits and pieces of information, namely how this is meant to be all for who the Doctor and his fellow Harbingers refer to as Scaramouche.

They’re a total anomaly, nonexistent in your memory, never seen and never known. You wonder if there’s a reason why you’ve never come face-to-face with it. He tends to tell you whatever’s on his mind, not seeking for you to be a conversationalist, but as an echo chamber. Maybe it’s his segments that know of this Scaramouche character.

While it’s not unusual for the Doctor to keep certain things from you, it raises questions that will go unanswered. Trust has always been an unspoken agreement between you and him. As his servant and his guard, his creation, there is nothing you won’t do for him. You’ll figure out a way to cut down every Archon alive if he so wishes it. But does he not share the same sentiment? Are you, ultimately, just another one of his disposables? Does he not trust you after all this time?

(After all the steps he’d taken to keep your lips sealed and you completely, utterly his?)

“I’ve called for the subject,” he says with a chuckle. “He’ll be arriving any moment now—”

“Let’s just get this over with,” comes a new voice you don’t recognise.

“Heh. You’re right on time.”

When you turn, you see a young man dressed in Inazuman clothes and a large hat adorned with gold and red threads. His face is twisted into a scowl that contradicts the softness of his features. His brows are furrowed as he glares at the Doctor in visible disdain. Nevertheless, he reminds you of ice and porcelain statues in Snezhnaya, carved for everlasting beauty and grandeur.

It is now that you realise that he is here—the new god himself in the flesh.

The missing puzzle piece, the sign of a new beginning. If that is who he’s meant to be, you believe that he will be fully revered without fail. If this is the one to worship at the altar, sacred offerings and prayers would be made day and night, pleading for their god’s wisdom.

With your constitution, your priorities do not lie in faith, but elsewhere: in recalibration and maintenance, in servitude and protection. There is much you don’t understand about religion, but is he not the very image of a being worthy of worship? An inexplicably beautiful, powerful being who holds the honour of succeeding their Greater Lord Rukkhadevata? A replacement for the Lesser Lord Kusanali, who is deemed beyond lesser in researchers’ eyes?

Scaramouche is cold and callous, but is that not how gods should be? Domineering, easily able to strike fear into their subjects? The fact holds as he stops beside you and gives you an irritated glance. Already is he regarding you, a stranger, with so much disdain, or something more malicious. You’re suddenly overly aware of your talons—sleek, black metallic, lethal—and the alarms ringing in your head. Accordingly, you deem him a threat to be kept under surveillance.

“This is your new pet project?” Scaramouche scoffs. “You’re declining, Dottore.”

As if he can feel you ready to act, the Doctor dissuades you by blocking you with his arm. A wordless warning. Despite finding it an unwise decision, you let your hands hang limply by your sides and return to your normal posture.

He’s right. He always is. Only he gets to decide who the enemy is. This Scaramouche is not an enemy, but evolution itself; something that transcends science and the mortal realm. You cannot ruin something he worked so hard for.

“I’m sorry, Doctor.”

“Perhaps you should wait for me to give you a command,” he says dryly. Though he appears to be smiling, you know better than to trust that his ire has fully dissipated. Clasping his hand on your shoulder, he nods at the other Harbinger. “This is my assistant, but let’s save the pleasantries for later, shall we? Go on, now.”

Steam rises from the surface as the metal plates of the automaton’s mask slide open. Although the automaton is only at half of its height, it encompasses nearly half of the room and casts a shadow in its wake. Scaramouche climbs into the cockpit with grace and agility, evidently familiar with the standard procedures.

You watch as the mask closes, sealing the sixth Harbinger inside. The Doctor patiently makes his way to the automaton with the Electro Gnosis held between his fingers. You hear chatter from the crowd behind you and murmurs that echo throughout the workshop, all in anticipation of what will take place soon. Not long after, he inserts the Gnosis in its rightful compartment and steps back.

Soon enough, Shouki no Kami comes to life. Electricity bursts in hues of amethyst and violet and sparks run across its surface. The insignia at its centre glows far brighter than anything you’d ever seen. You feel its strength with your eyes alone, as do your fellow witnesses. You realise now that you behold the birth of an almighty being, one ready to take fate into his own hands and overthrow the false god.

(You’ve never seen anything more beautiful.)

—

Dottore doesn’t play favourites, but if he were asked to pick a favourite thing about you, he would say without a doubt that it is your unquestioning compliance.

He’s fully aware that it’s how he encouraged you to be, but he’d be a fool if he didn’t acknowledge it. Trust is not earned so easily, even if years pass and one hasn’t wronged the other yet. Despite having sworn loyalty to the Tsaritsa and by extension Pierro, there isn’t a single member of the Fatui he’d trust with his projects.

But you, the one he made, the one he changed; you stand above them all.

It’s an entertaining sight indeed to see you fall and get back up time and time again with a new life, a new memory and the same ever-present constant: him. No matter what he puts you through, on the operating table or on dangerous missions, you trust him with your being. Your faith and loyalty are in his hands, binding you to him for as long as he’ll need you. Perhaps, in some way, you see him as more than your master. Feelings are fickle things and unimportant to him. Inquisitiveness and uncovering the world’s secrets are all he needs, but you—

You are a different variable.

You put your fragile life in his hands and let him keep you in his possession. You guard him like a loyal hound to the leader of its pack. Even if he can simply use his segments or remake you, it’s quite hard to imagine a life without you behind him. You’ve become a long-withstanding presence he can continue to study and rely on under the guise of diagnostics. No longer are you the meek little thing shyly watching him from the sidelines. No longer are you his benefactor who naïvely believed his lies about medical research and evolution. You’re an entirely new person, but one fact remains true all the same.

You are his, before and after ‘death.’

With you constantly dutifully close by, it hadn’t taken long for some of his fellow Harbingers to take an interest in you. It infuriates him to remember the wicked smile on Pantalone’s lips as he mentioned how much he was willing to spend on you. It’s worse to remember how Childe would tell you anecdotes of his travels in an attempt to convince you to join him. The memory never fails to make him huff in irritation every time it comes up.

How absolutely imbecilic. Is it not clear enough that you cannot be taken from him?

Dottore wasn’t always one to make rash decisions. He’s meticulous and calculated, sharp and precise. But to hear those idiots imply their desire for you made his blood boil for reasons unclear to him. There was no other way he could have dealt with the inexplicable rage surging in his veins or the warmth that bloomed in his chest. As long as you need him to live, and as long as your heart is locked behind a code only he knows, no one can take you away from him.

Since then, he’d given you another strict order. It was admittedly a selfish and conceivably unreasonable one that he made clear. You are not to interact with any of the Harbingers unless he is also present. It seems to have worked well for the most part. They don’t ask about you as much as they used to, as much as they are dying to know of your whereabouts.

It’s satisfactory enough. He can’t have you falling into less-than-capable hands. After tearing you down and putting you back together, there is zero chance he’s letting it all slip away. You know it fully well, too, that there is no other place for you to go except with him.

Unlike the average person, you lack innate desires and greed. With or without an incentive, you’d never leave him in favour of something or someone else. What reason would there be for you to do such a thing?

None.

You have never failed him. You can’t fail him, regardless of if the probability of success is slightly above zero. If you somehow deviate from your chosen path and escape him, finding you won’t be difficult. He has the agents to subdue you if necessary and the concoction to keep you pliant. While he’d prefer not to have a single blemish on you, it may be just the right choice with the right intention.

But there won’t come a day when he’d have to make that decision. You won’t fail him. As long as he has you in his grasp, you will never leave him. As long as he stays the subject of your fealty and the cause of your existence, you will never leave him. The reassurance alone is enough to ground him once again, his anger dissipating out of his mind like smoke in the wind.

Bringing you along to Sumeru was just another part of his routine. As far as he knows, you’ve never stepped foot outside Snezhnaya both in your past and present. He could practically see the cogs and wheels in your mind turning as you observed the horizon for reconnaissance. He wasn’t very keen on letting you become too curious, but for once, he’ll consider allowing it. It was fascinating, he thought, to see you try to mask your awe with apathy.

For the first time in years, you were human, and just a naïve little thing eager for adventure.

Dottore isn’t quite one for the arts. He can appreciate beauty where it’s done, even if the words of an artist matter very little to him. It’s too abstract, he finds. There is freedom in knowledge, but there is also discipline—something that artists lack in his eyes. Yet he wonders if the poets were right to liken their subject to a warm summer day. If seeing the glimmer in your eyes and your parted lips is how his mind interprets art to be.

(Are those worshippers right, in the end, when they swear ‘til death do us part’ to their lovers?)

He saw that wondrous expression again in the Joururi Workshop.

There was a lot to behold in those chambers: Shouki no Kami lighting up to life, the purple lightning streaks running across the surface. In the midst of it, all he could focus on was not the result of his success, but you. The face of an awed spectator, the face he’d see in the devout. He didn’t think too long about it, however. A sudden wave of annoyance crashed over him and so he took his eyes off you and back to his creation. He didn’t care how long you were in that flabbergasted state. He didn’t care for trivial things, he thought, albeit more bitterly than he’d anticipated.

There are a lot of things he could (and has) stripped you of. Your innate curiosity is not one of them. It’s not as if he could’ve stopped the questions in your mind from rising. He didn’t tell you much about the collaboration with the Akademiya. It wasn’t necessarily his intention to leave you in the dark about it, but when he thinks of your reverie again, he decides it was for the best.

Scaramouche is considerably more… sentient than you are, and Dottore is a careful man. The way you stared at that puppet was telling enough. The fewer interactions you have with him, the better. You picking up his opinions and attitude certainly isn’t ideal. Of course, he has a plan in case something like that were to happen, though he’d prefer not to use it.

He’s grown fond of the current you, after all.

Though a natural sceptic of fate and divine intervention, today the heavens have taken the victory. They mock him and laugh in his face, at his expense, as his beloved pet project grows fascinated with something else before his very eyes. As much as he hated to think of it, it was inevitable that you’d meet Scaramouche one day. Despite the other Harbinger having acknowledged you once (just to insult you, he thought indignantly), the more pressing matter at hand isn’t Scaramouche.

It is you.

He figures he’ll have to get you under control soon, if not now. Yet at the same time, the scholar in him questions. What would you think of the new ‘god’ from what you already know of devotion? What would you pray for at the altar in the throes of desperation?

Would you still look at him with the same loyalty and—dare he say it—love if your ‘heart’ lies in someone else’s hands?

He’s never been one to let his emotions take the reins. He leads himself with rationality and logic. Reason is a bigger priority than sentiment, he finds. And yet, he fully resents the implication of you finding someone else to belong to other than him. It is irrational to think of it. Keeping you in his clutches comes as easy as breathing does. With your body inside and out under his control, it leaves little to no reason for you to need somebody else.

As fun as it is to nudge you back in the right direction, he isn’t always as cruel as he seems. You’ve always been an inquisitive thing, which is why he has you record all of his musings and disorganised thoughts. You care about his work and you guard his laboratory in his absence like the perfect guard dog. Letting you wander about is relatively harmless, but he’d prefer to be able to keep his eyes on you.

The snowy mountains and frosted ground of Snezhnaya are all you know. In Sumeru, there is fauna and flora that you’ve never seen. Scaramouche is one of them. With him being a deviation from what little you truly know, it definitely wouldn’t take very long for you to develop some sort of fascination for him.

Were it someone he knew who wasn’t at all a threat, Dottore would’ve let it slide. He doesn’t find Scaramouche a threat per se, but the situation raises concerns regardless. As apathetic as you are to most occurrences, you won’t stay that way for long. What he saw on the journey to Sumeru is proof enough. After so many years, you could feel once more the wind in your hair as you breathed in the scent of the ocean. You could feel the sun’s rays warming your skin in ways Snezhnayan skies never have.

Contrary to what he’d initially told you, he never ‘took away’ your sensitivity or implanted a new one. All it took was small doses of anaesthesia and a new command—subdue anyone who lets their touch linger on you for too long. It worked for a while, but he decided to slowly lessen and eventually stop those doses. That was for your benefit as well. A new research question, one could say. How would someone unfeeling handle new sensations all at once? How touch-starved would you become?

Would you seek him out just like you used to?

Unfamiliar sensations inadvertently affect your mind, and you’ll learn once again what you crave more or desire less. He remembers the night you fully became his, all in mind, body and soul. How pliant you were and how you never ran away even when things became too much. How the most featherlight of touches would have you caving in, melting in his hold. He knows you like the back of his hand. He made sure that he would be the sole one who gets to be this close.

Yet for reasons he just can’t fathom, his plans of keeping you all to himself had gone awry.

Months have passed since the incident, and he finds himself equally infuriated thinking about how flustered you were when Childe dared to touch you. It was a minuscule gesture, not one you were unfamiliar with—a hand on the small of your back gently urging you in the direction you were supposed to go. For some reason unknown to him, it managed to fluster you somehow. Your eyes widened and you stumbled over your words, much to the younger Harbinger’s delight.

Incredibly irksome was what it was.

Dottore never denies that he is a selfish man. He won’t deny that he missed seeing your expressions from torture to bliss, either. Your reactivity was what he liked most about you. Here, he contemplates whether to put you under that treatment again. He doesn’t want to do it so soon, not when he wants to see it all coming back to you. Robotic and unfeeling is what people expect you to be, but what he misses is the vividness of your emotions—your fear, anger, sorrow, and joy.

“Isn’t it fascinating to discover something new? To feel something new?”

Yes, this is for your benefit and his. You’ll get to learn what it’s like to be a being of science, someone who dares to challenge the divine with pure knowledge. You’ll get to feel what you have lost, and he’ll get to watch as it changes you for the worse or the better. It doesn’t matter what the outcome is; you are ultimately his to own, his to toy with. This is just like any other experiment. It should be.

Regardless, it is hard to keep the annoyance at bay. It’s unclear how Scaramouche is going to interact with you. Between your endless patience (sometimes he wishes you’d just snap and show him what he’d missed these past years) and Scaramouche’s lack thereof, there is no clear vision of what will happen. It wouldn’t make sense to send you back to Snezhnaya so hastily, either. As far as he’s concerned, your presence is imperative, and who knows what’ll happen if he isn’t there to watch over you?

“Troublesome little pet,” he mutters. You’ve distracted him from his work again.

—

Pardis Dhyai tends to be a lively place. Scholars walk past each other at the plaza, some sit together on the grass and chat about what is on their minds. Crowds are hardly foreign to the Doctor, but he prefers to have his privacy. The more you visit here, the more you begin to think that you are the same way.

Today, however, the crowd is nowhere to be seen.

The indoor gardens are barren with only you as its visitor. No conversations can be heard in the background. Birds chirp a cheery tune beyond the forest and the running water flows in the fountain endlessly. You barely make a sound as you continue your exploration, observing the flowers you’ve never seen back in Snezhnaya. Hills of ice and snow hardly make a suitable environment for these florae, so it comes as no surprise that botany here surpasses home. It’s pleasing to the eyes, far more colourful than the glow of blue lights and drab walls you typically see.

The Doctor is busy in a meeting back at the Akademiya with the Grand Sage and a couple of other scholars. With the reasoning that it wasn’t something that required your attention, he’d given you permission to wander about as long as you returned before the meeting ended. It wasn’t an unreasonable request. Some of his matters are confidential, even to you who tend to be a witness to most. It doesn’t happen often, and when it does, you don’t find it an abnormality.

Still, much like that day in the workshop, doing nothing proves to be a most difficult task.

Despite the idyllic scenery that surrounds you, you feel hollow. Quite the oddity—you’ve always presumed that this is what romantics seek and what artists hope to immortalise on their canvases. Yet with the unfamiliar things spread throughout the room, nothing particularly strikes your fascination. Flowers are delicate little things and your fingers are razor sharp—you can’t touch them if you wanted to. A part of you is curious about what soft touches to the skin would feel like, touches that aren’t inspection or painful.

You stop yourself before you can reach out for one of the roses. You’d prefer not to end a life without reason. You solely harm and kill those who try to harm the Doctor in one way or another. Sometimes you’d bring them to him yourself and give him a new subject to test on. It depends on what he asks of you.

The bells above the door chime. You rise on alert, razors extending from your fingertips and ready to strike. As you whip your head around, you find that it’s not an assassin, but a subject you had met days prior.

Scaramouche stares at you with an unimpressed look that borders on disgust. “What trash heap did he pick you out of?”

“He did not pick me out of a trash heap,” you reply, suddenly irrationally irked. “I don’t have memories of when we met. All I know is that he saved my life.”

“And you believe him?” His brows knit together in visible annoyance. “The second of the Harbingers, spending his valuable resources on you? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I have no reason to doubt the Doctor.”

He scoffs. “You’re hopeless.”

After deciding that he doesn’t harbour any intention of hurting you, for now, your claws retract on their own. Not a word is spoken as you keep your gaze trained on him. He walks around the garden, seemingly deep in thought and regards you no more than a handful of times. He’s much different up close than he was back in the giant machine. Without the armour, he reminds you of the Doctor’s other segments; built flawlessly with a life to him that you can’t fathom yet.

“Dottore. Is he your god?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re kissing the ground he walks on. Is that how he trained you?”

It’s not something you’ve questioned a lot in your years of servitude. A master is a master and you are his pawn. What is there to be curious about?

“It’s the least I can do for him,” you answer after a pause. “Forgive my rudeness. I don’t see how this is any of your concern.”

His hostility raises your caution and you watch warily as he approaches you. You don’t break eye contact either, blankly staring at him until he speaks up again.

“Don’t you think?”

“I still fail to see why you’re asking me such trivialities.”

Though Scaramouche likely meant the question rhetorically, your curiosity is piqued nonetheless. You are capable of thought. You are capable of judgement, and you can see how someone is feeling just by observing them. What else could you possibly ‘think’ of?

You’ve always followed orders without hesitation. The Doctor’s time is valuable; if there’s anything you wish to know, you learn of it when you’re off duty. It isn’t a regular occurrence. He has you by his side at all times and gets irritable when you wander off. You aim to please him. You aim to be the best weapon in his arsenal, so you’ll follow him for as long as he’ll let you.

(Is that what ████ would have wanted?)

“Hey,” Scaramouche snaps. “I’m talking to you.”

You return the unimpressed look. “I was contemplating your question.”

“So?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you an answer.”

“Figures.” He rolls his eyes, dropping the issue. “What are you doing here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be his favourite pet?”

Pretending the jabs were never said, you decide that he’s at least harmless enough for you to be honest. “I’ve been dismissed for the time being.”

It’s hard to predict what he’s thinking. The expression on his features is unreadable and leaves a strange sensation trickling down the length of your spine. Heaviness tugs at where your heart should be. You remember now—this is what you felt when the Doctor expressed his disappointment in you. Scaramouche glowers at you for reasons unknown, arms crossed over his chest much like the petulant children you see on some journeys.

“Is there a problem?”

“A problem?” He huffs a sardonic laugh. “It’s right in front of me.”

This is irregular. You’ve been trained to handle every situation possible, but for the first time in a while, you’re at a standstill. Thousands of possibilities can come from this encounter. Violence is a part of them, but considering Scaramouche’s status, it is the very last on the list.

“I don’t understand you,” he says, exasperated. |You have your own life ahead of you, but you choose to serve someone who doesn’t bat an eye at you. And you can’t tell me why you do it.”

“It’s my purpose.”

“Is it really?” He gives you a once-over head to toe then clicks his tongue, deciding that he’d gotten what he wanted out of you. “Whatever. Don’t tell him you saw me.”

Scaramouche’s words shouldn’t matter. He doesn’t know you inside and out like the Doctor does. He hasn’t repaired you with his own hands. But his questioning continues to leave you unsettled, mind wandering in directions it hasn’t been before.

You’ve never thought much about life without the Doctor. Your soul already lies within him, found itself a home within his ribcage. Your subservience is voluntary. Even if the Doctor wasn’t your saviour, you would still see him as one. Even if you didn’t owe him your submission, you would still give it to him.

He is your saving grace, your maker, your one true companion. He’s all you have. For as long as he’ll allow it, you belong to him. You are his weapon. You are his subject. You are his toy. You are his, just as you’ve always been.

Scaramouche must be doing this to get under your skin, and you are but a fool who’s allowed it to happen. You keep your glare trained on him as he eventually fades into the distance, leaving you with more thoughts than ever.

Several hours pass before you’re back in the Akademiya. The hallways are crowded, much to your dismay, but you dutifully wait at the end for your Doctor to arrive. You’re unnoticed for the most part. Frantic mutterings and crazed discussions become white noise as you lean against the wall. Your eyelids flutter shut and a quiet sigh leaves your nose while restlessness slowly brews within your chest.

“Ah, there you are. Tired?”

You straighten up. “Doctor! I… I’m sorry.”

“Poor thing.” He smiles wryly. “Seems I’ve overworked you.”

“No, I’m alright, I was…”

“I jest,” he chuckles. “Well? Shall we go?”

The walk back to the laboratory is quiet. Your sharp glare scares off curious passers-by and scholars looking for small talk with the Doctor. Meetings with the sages always leave him in a sour mood; it’s for their benefit as much as it is for him, you think.

The lights turn on one by one and machines whir to life, filling the room with low buzzing sounds. You shift your weight from one foot to another, brows furrowing in thought. Your mind tells you to talk to him about Scaramouche, but is it the right time? It’s difficult to gauge his current mood. All you know is that the unease is similar to the last time he’d been in a meeting with the other Harbingers.

“I can hear you fidgeting,” he snaps. “Spit it out.”

As suspected, nothing ever gets past him. You heave out a sigh and regain your composure, not wanting to worsen his disposition. While he’s never had an explicit rule that forbade you from interacting with the other experiments, you wonder if your interaction with Scaramouche would be considered overstepping. The uncertainty of the consequences dawns on you, sending you into a state of inquietude.

“I met Scaramouche again today,” you admit, relenting. If this is forbidden, the Doctor may have mercy on you for the first offence you were unaware of.

Attempting to gauge his mood doesn’t yield much of a result, but there’s something in the air that borders on impatience and anger. His posture, however, is relaxed as he assesses the situation on his own. The atmosphere feels tense—as tense as those pesky Harbinger meetings he’s always complained about. You can’t read him like you can the others. He never lets any vulnerability show, not the smallest tell or twitch.

“I assume he had some things to say.”

You hesitate. “He asked if I had a god.”

The noises from whatever he’s tinkering with abruptly stop.

“And what did you tell him?”

“I couldn’t give him an answer.”

He exhales through his nose, his shoulders rising and falling with the heavy breath. “I see. Don’t indulge him next time… I’d prefer it if you stayed close to me or in the laboratory.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“One last thing, my dearest hound. You don’t need a god.” He peers over his shoulder, glancing through you from the corner of his eye. “You need me.”

—

Is he your god?

The question echoes in your head for days. It demands an answer each time the mysterious Balladeer crosses your mind. The books you read in your leisure hold no answer for you, either. Theories upon theories and centuries’ worth of history could not prepare you for the inquiry. As much information as you’ve gained, not a sliver of it helps you. If anything, more questions are raised—those of the mind and soul.

You’re well cognisant of the fact that you’re no longer human by definition, with some of your organs being synthetic. Your arms are not flesh but obsidian and the rarest metals, sharper than blades crafted by the best smiths. Cybernetics have been implanted into your eyes and your ears, enhancing your abilities as a living weapon.

But are you truly living? You follow the Doctor and sing his praises, but do you do it because you want to, or because he trained you to?

Is he your god?

The breathtaking view of the Shouki no Kami flashes before your eyes again. Everything spoken and written by the Doctor about the upcoming project echoes in your mind. Then, the image changes to those with the Doctor—him in your view as you lay pliant on the operating table, him inspecting your hands with a relaxed expression. You hear voices of the past. Voices that belong to him as they say how you were on the brink of death when he’d graciously saved you. You don’t remember anything before your ‘reawakening,’ so you trust him—they must be true.

You think again of the grandeur that resonated as Shouki no Kami stood tall in the chambers of the workshop. The violet sparks and the overwhelming awe you felt upon seeing it. He who wields the Electro Gnosis shall become stronger than anyone, strong enough to replace the previous god, and you may very well understand what the choir sings of.

If this is what Scaramouche can become—the Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom himself—he falls under the definition of a god. At the same time, so does your Doctor. His infinite knowledge, his ability to create life, and his outstanding achievements that put him on a pedestal higher than everyone else all make him perfect.

Archons and the Adepti have hymns and ceremonies dedicated to their sanctity. Statues built in their likeness stand tall throughout the lands of Teyvat. Art and literature are made of them and their legendary exploits. You believe Scaramouche will have poems and symphonies in his honour one day, but is the Doctor not worthy of the same? Is the man who bestowed upon you a new life, a new identity, not as great as the divines, if not better?

You stare ahead at the blueprints pinned on the corkboard. Scrawled notes and rough sketches of current and upcoming projects are scattered throughout the surface. If all goes well, he will allow you to witness their creation at his hands and his segments’. Anything he does is always a sight to behold.

You don’t need a god. You need me.

Your loyalty doesn’t lie with the Tsaritsa. It lies with the Doctor himself. Archons don’t have any meaning to you, and thus, they do not have your trust. The one altar you will offer yourself to is not any of theirs; it’s the table where the Doctor fixes you. You need me, he had said. He is right and he never lies—gods are nothing, but he is everything. You believe him wholeheartedly.

“Zoning out? Great job, you just got him killed.”

In a flash, your claws dig into the skin of Scaramouche’s throat as you move to pin him against your chest. He scoffs sarcastically but makes no move to wrangle free, going so far as to lay his head against your shoulder with a smirk.

“That’s better.”

“How did you get in here?” Your voice is stern, levelled. If this was any other person, their throat would already be slit without a second thought, but Scaramouche is important. An essential piece to the puzzle that will be the domination of Sumeru, living evidence that not only Archons can wield a Gnosis. Your jaw clenches. “The Doctor won’t be pleased about this. You need to leave.”

“There it is. The Doctor this, the Doctor that,” he sighs, “I can’t understand you at all.”

“You need to leave,” you repeat. “Or I will cut you down where you stand.”

“You won’t.” Scaramouche chuckles. “You can’t.”

Your hands are trembling and a burning sensation crawls up your neck, engulfing you in the flames of rage. You can feel it—the lightning and the storms, all brewing within the confines of your chest. Irritated, you loosen your grip and shove him away, making it a point to keep your blades unsheathed and pointed at his throat.

“Hm. Are you always this rude?”

“I almost believe you want me to hurt you,” you hiss.

He grins impishly. “Really?”

“Talk.”

“Fine,” he says with an exaggerated sigh. “Tell me, hound, have you ever experienced betrayal?”

Your brows furrow. “I don’t see how this is important.”

He shrugs. The gesture, albeit minuscule, makes visions of violence run through your mind, visions of bloodshed and mercilessness. Your hand does not waver from where it points at his jugular. Unfazed, he continues, “Don’t you think he’ll betray you one day?”

“I trust him,” you cut in. “Without question.”

With a bored expression, one akin to an impatient teacher, he softly swats your hand away from him. You don’t push back, though you stand guarded—using force remains an option.

“Dottore doesn’t need you. He already has his segments,” he drawls, pretending to check the dirt under his nails. “You’re only there as a toy.”

As irritated as you feel, something in the back of your mind tells you to listen to him.

It’s not that you’re unaware that you are a test subject. Because of your enhanced durability and patience, he often seeks you out for his experiments. You’ve had plenty of substances and chemicals injected into your bloodstream. You’ve been pushed to your limits until he deems it satisfactory. You bear all the pain he inflicts on you and you melt under his touch when he repairs you himself.

Your existence revolves around him. Your body does not belong to you—it belongs to him, and he shall do whatever he pleases with it. This is the life you’ve accepted. This is your pride. This is your ‘dream.’

But it doesn’t explain the weight upon your shoulders. The anxiety lodged in your throat, the numbness spreading across your skin, the chill trickling down your spine. The sense that there is something wrong, very wrong, but nothing points to anything. All the paths ahead of you lead to him. Where are the ones without him?

No matter. You don’t exist to think.

“I’m doing my role,” you say with finality.

It’s a response you have said many times, whether to attempted assassins or lesser agents, yet somehow, the words don’t feel like they’re yours. They’re automated, rehearsed. You shake it off. Routines aren’t out of the ordinary. Following a pattern is merely a part of what you do.

He scoffs. “Fool. You just don’t get it.”

You feel like you should. You feel that there is more weight to his words than he’s letting on, but you simply can’t see this from a new perspective. What you’re doing—how you live now—is enough, and the fulfilment that comes after the Doctor’s praise is something you always aim for.

They can call you whatever they want. His pet, his guard dog, his toy, none of it matters. The only person you listen to is the Doctor. Without him, you are nothing. Without him, you have no purpose.

Then what will you do without him? When he inevitably decides that you are no longer needed, that a replacement would suffice? Every image that comes after is out of your control. The Doctor isn’t afraid of discarding things he deems useless. Would he dismantle you, hide you away until he needs you again? Would he throw you into the same pile as all of his broken segments? Would he decide to dispose of you entirely, shutting down all of your systems and turning your world into a void?

An invisible knot lodges within your throat and your mouth goes dry, uncomfortably so. Sweat beads at the crown of your head and the tremors in your hands are becoming harder to hide. The room spins and renders your vision distorted. You purse your lips, doing your best to keep the instabilities in check. You cannot show weakness. Anyone can turn against you in the blink of an eye.

“Is that all?” you speak up after a beat of silence. The shakiness in your words is more audible than you anticipated. “I will ask you one more time. Leave.”

Scaramouche watches you with an unreadable expression before he thankfully does as demanded without further argument. Your chest feels tight as you glare daggers at the door, keeping your ears trained to hear if the footsteps are going quiet as they should be. The razors on your fingertips retract. It is over.

Shaking your head, you return to the task at hand, unaware of the blinking light in the corner of the room monitoring your every move.

—

The laboratory becomes less of a frequent sight as you are given more tasks to do.

No longer are you needed to wait on the Doctor hand and foot outside the conference room. No longer are you needed to guard him in the workshop. Your time is spent lurking in the shadows, waiting for the opportune time to strike. He has you stay so close yet so far away, demanding your presence one moment then dismissing you the next.

The aberration in routine is too drastic to ignore. You’ve begun to analyse him the same way you do with your kill targets, mentally cataloguing his every action in an attempt to discover a common factor. You broke down everything he said, trying to find any hidden meanings behind them, to see if he speaks to you in riddles. Just like the attempt to search for who you were, you found nothing.

Naturally, you concluded that he is hiding something from you. He’s more adamant about being left alone while he works on a little project. His segments are the ones carrying out the tasks you are usually assigned to. When you’re not on reconnaissance, you’re left with the chores. It’s not entirely unusual for him to command you without further explanation. The tasks are simple enough, but the sudden shift brings forth unwanted anxieties.

You wonder if this is a gateway to something worse. The dismissals and growing lack of conversation remind you of someone no longer interested in what they used to love. With the Doctor’s eccentricities to begin with, nothing aids the formation of a relevant hypothesis or predicts a pattern. Some nights you’d find yourself trying to pick out past mistakes, any errors you might’ve missed, only to be met with nothing. You’d feel strangely heated—upset—being reminded of the possibility that he has simply tired of you.

You’ve always given your all in what he asks of you. If he needs someone killed, you do it clean, untraceable and unsuspecting. If he needs you to retrieve something, you make it seem like what you’ve stolen has never left. You lay yourself on the operating table when he demands it, let him inject toxin upon toxin into your vessels. You’ve been the perfect puppet for as long as you can remember, but is it not enough for him? Does he want more from you?

Maybe it’s his current collaboration with the sages of the Akademiya that is making him neglect you. Shouki no Kami is no small feat and the Doctor is meticulous. He could be devoting more of his time to perfecting the project. A burst of jealousy clouds your mind at the thought. Surely a project he’s had for centuries will be more interesting and resourceful than what you can offer him.

And yet, his demeanour every time you come across him contradicts everything you’ve suspected. He hasn’t been behaving particularly strangely. His mood is still quick to change and his temperance with the other scholars is as turbulent as ever. He still wordlessly watches you complete his orders, fingers drumming against his arm as he’s deep in contemplation. There shouldn’t be room for suspicions, but there is, and the lingering unease has started to hinder your progress.

You come to realise that perhaps this is what he’s called you here for.

The room is eerily quiet as the Doctor leers at you from where he leans against the workbench. You’re kneeling before him, eyes cast on the ground while you wait for him to speak. You don’t remember the last time you failed him, much less trigger a change in his temper. Your mind races with possible punishments he could inflict on you. Would he isolate you from the rest of the world? Would he shut you down for days on end, waking you when he decides you’ve learnt your lesson?

A sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You don’t have to see it to know his features are marred with ire, his lips pressed in a taut frown. The impatient tapping of his foot seems to accelerate your train of thought, sending tremors to your frame. His glare burns into you and suddenly you feel all too exposed, vulnerable, and it is here that you realise that you are afraid.

But the scolding you were preparing yourself for never happens.

Instead, you feel a cold and heavy object wrapping around your neck and locking with an audible click. With a gloved hand, he takes hold of your chin with a disturbingly gentle touch, tilting your head up to meet his. You feel his breaths quickening against your cheeks, excitement bubbling in his blood at the confused expression on your face.

“Just as I suspected,” he whispers, voice tinged in manic delight. “It suits you. But…”

Searing heat rushes around your neck and tears spring forth as you look up at him wide-eyed, lips parted in shock. Words die at the tip of your tongue, dissolving into nothing. Still, you don’t move or ask. You aren’t supposed to. Much like an obedient child, you sit and wait, even as you feel as though you’re going to collapse. The burn on your neck gradually wanes with time, the pain fading away but leaving behind a red trail in its wake.

He crouches down beside you and grazes his fingertips over the fresh wound, causing you to involuntarily wince. His glee is more than evident with how he holds your face in his hands and inspects you with pride.

“Why…”

“Why?” The mirth on his features immediately twists into a scowl. “Are you questioning me, pet?”

Your reply is instant and without a second thought, your mind unable to register the underlying threat in his question. “Is… Is that what I am, Doctor?”

“You are whatever I want you to be. Does that not suffice?” He presses against the wound, visibly overjoyed by the choked noise you let out. “Have you forgotten your place, pet?”

“No!” you gasp, tears streaming down your cheeks in rivulets. You don’t remember the last time you cried—you thought you couldn’t—but they flow on their own, uncontrollable and never-ending. “I’m sorry!”

It hurts. You feel as though you’re being torn apart by the neck, skin burnt and blistered at the Doctor’s will. Is this what he had wanted? Is this the foreign stimulus he needed to see your reaction to? Your pain tolerance was high and allowed you to withstand any trial he put you through. Did he take that away just to see you squirm? Just so he could hurt you himself?

For someone so unfamiliar with feelings now, everything comes back to you in full force. While you knew that the Doctor never saw anyone as his equal, the degrading act hits you harder than anything could ever do. You were proud of your duty of serving him, of being the subject he always looked for, but you are now lost in a void.

“I asked for one simple thing.” Whatever joy he previously had is all gone. The gentleness in his touch becomes harsh, fingers pressing against the collar again to rub your wound. “And my dearest little hound ignores it.”

“It hurts, Doctor, please—”

“Have I not been clear enough?” he continues, ignoring your cries. “Must I spell it out myself?”

The pedestal you put him on crumbles into pieces, surrounded by a cloud of dust and smoke. The holy light is replaced with unbounded darkness and the marble flooring is splattered with blood and broken parts. In the destruction, you see your lifeless body lying among the faceless, and all he does is watch as you wither away with his old selves.

“You treat this as a punishment,” he says with disappointment, breaking you out of the dreamscape you’d found yourself in. “But I implore you to consider it a gift.”

Not waiting for your reply, he continues. “A reminder of sorts. For you and for anyone who looks at you. It was quite the hassle deciding between this or reworking you entirely.” He shoves you away and gets back on his feet, slowly pacing around the room as he speaks. “I’d have to start over from zero again.”

You don’t understand. You don’t know what reworking entails, and you don’t know what he means by starting over. All you can do is stare blankly at the tear-stained ground as your body becomes static and shuts out everything around you. Only he and you exist in this void. Only he is in control.

“I made you myself. Gave you a body when you had nothing.” He stops in his tracks, hands behind his back. “And you repay me with disloyalty.”

It’s been days since you last spoke to Scaramouche. You haven’t seen him since, and here the Doctor is, punishing you for something that was out of your control. A part of you screams at you to fight back, to tell him that he was the one who sought after you, but all you can do is tremble where you stand. You want to apologise, despite your instincts telling you not to. That the Doctor is lying to you, just as he likely did before.

“Please,” is all that leaves you in a broken whisper. Defiance brings nothing. You’ve learnt it the hard way, you know you have, even if you can’t remember what it was. Briefly, you question if he’s ever taken control of your memories, forming a faux story for you to remember. The dreadfulness is enough to answer the question.

He sighs, disinterested. “As thrilling as this is, you are wasting my time. I have duties to attend to.”

“Doctor…”

“Stay here and wait for my return. Do not leave our quarters. Am I clear?”

You feel as though you’ve been through this before. Visions come to mind, but none of the vignettes play; only a sense of familiarity and hurt remain. There is something about his effortless cruelty that hovers just out of your reach and keeps you in a perpetual state of insecurity. Are you not enough? Haven’t you done enough?

Hasn’t he had enough?

Numbly, you nod, your voice wavering as you finally manage to speak, “Yes, Doctor.”

—

As time passes, you come to realise that your punishment was only an interlude for something worse.

The Traveller’s arrival in Sumeru and the failure of the Sabzeruz festival had thrown a wrench into the Doctor’s plans. More disagreements between him and the sages occurred, none of which you knew of, but his mood grew more dour with each passing moment. You haven’t seen Scaramouche since he’d broken into the laboratory that night, and there’s a nagging thought telling you that you won’t see him again, either.

He’d been defeated at the hands of the Traveller with the aid of the Dendro Archon and disappeared, presumably under their custody. Years worth of work had fallen apart in a blink of an eye. The Grand Sage and his underlings were swift to surrender to the Mahamatra himself, forcing the operation to a halt. The people of Sumeru were freed from the influence of the corrupted Akasha terminals, and ‘the good’ began to rebuild what they had lost.

Meanwhile, the ones who had been on the verge of victory were left with the scraps.

The Doctor had returned from his negotiation with the Dendro Archon with more irritation than when he’d left. As per agreement with her, he’d destroyed his remaining segments stationed throughout Sumeru. In return, she gave him her Gnosis. Though it seemed like a fair deal, it did nothing to lift his spirits. He didn’t believe in wasted effort—how could he, when it’s in everything he does?—but there was not a moment of hesitation when he decided to abandon the project entirely.

It was a clear enough sign: he saw it as an utter failure.

A part of you is curious (or worried?) about what will become of Scaramouche now that he’s no longer needed. The Doctor either completely abandons his projects or destroys them. With Scaramouche missing, will he be hunted or presumed dead? Will you come across him again one day? He’d left behind only a husk of what he could’ve been, a being at heights you don’t know he can reach again.

And now, all that is left to do is to salvage what you can from the disaster.

What used to be filled with sounds of whirring cogs and wheels is now completely silent as the machines are no longer in motion. The metallic walls haven’t changed in their dreariness and the lights flicker on and off overhead. The centrepiece lies in ruins, smothered by dust and rubble as the last of its vibrancy begins to dull completely. You can see broken concrete and shards of glass everywhere, a visible mark of what had woefully transpired in the last twenty-four hours.

It’s a stark difference from the first time you’d been here. The chambers are devoid of people and it’s daunting, more so with what remains of Shouki no Kami. The god has died before it can bless its people, leaving behind remnants of its power and godless land. What was meant to be a hall of worship had become a battlefield, a site of devastation and loss. Your gaze drifts back to the Doctor standing before the disaster.

If you had a heart, it would ache for him and weep.

You know he’d chide you for the sympathy you have for him. He’d make you remember that your ‘emotions’ are his, that he’s the sole person who gets to break you and build you back together. Still, you can’t help but feel sorrowful on his behalf. He’ll get back up and come up with a better plan; he’ll never crawl or bow in the face of an obstacle. He will move forward and you will continue to trail behind him, just like the loyal dog he wants you to be.

You’re reminded of the question Scaramouche had posed to you before—the question of whether the Doctor is your god. As it stands, you find that you still don’t have an answer for him. You don’t know what a god is supposed to be. You don’t know how close you can be to a god. You don’t know what makes the perfect god, if it’s benevolence or evil that constitutes their power.

You’ve heard stories of cruel gods: the fall of Khaenri’ah, the Raiden Shogun’s tyranny; stories about Rex Lapis at the height of his time as a warrior and those punished by Celestia. You’ve heard of the kind ones, those who created life and allowed them happiness beyond the waters. The Archons are all worshipped for different reasons: the grant of freedom, the discipline of contracts, the pursuit of wisdom and the like.

You wonder if zealots ever find themselves in the same position as you: lost in a paradox without a clear path. When you look at him, you see salvation, but in that salvation, you also see ruin. The Doctor gives, and the Doctor takes away. You picture yourself kneeling before his feet and feel nothing, yet you can’t see yourself following anyone else but him.

Then what are you supposed to be?

Your existence relies on him. Your life belongs to him. Your purpose is to be at his beck and call, by his side, beneath him, anywhere he needs you. A life without him would lead to nothing—or would it? Would you break free and find a life of your own like Scaramouche has? Your heart sinks into your bowels at the fogged outcome. You don’t know if it’s fear or ‘love’ that holds you back from thinking of freedom. You don’t know if you need it or if you don’t.

Were you to ask him what you are, he’d let the question linger and let it go forgotten. Were you to ask him who you were, he’d tell you a different story from the last, and there’d be no way of finding out what is the truth.

(Do you need to?)

“It’s about time we returned.”

The Doctor stops just by your side and faintly tilts his head towards you. He seems to be staring at something on your face but says nothing. Without another word, he marches forward and you dutifully follow him until you reach the same port you’d first arrived in.

The ship was docked and already filled with the other agents who’d gotten it ready for the long voyage back to Snezhnaya. It softly bobs in the waves as the Doctor boards, ignoring the salutes and greetings he is given. With your head down, you take post on the deck of the ship.

You feel gazes burning on your back. Behind masks, the surrounding agents are undoubtedly staring at the burns around your neck and the collar that lays atop it. A sense of shame washes over you and you instinctively bring your hand up to cover it, your eyes cast on the wooden floors beneath. It makes you overly aware of the collar’s presence, bringing back the tingles on your skin and memories of the pain inflicted by the Doctor.

He may take the collar off of you when his whims call for it in the future, but the scar burnt into your skin will still be visible. Owning you alone wasn’t enough of a tangible claim over you. Keeping your heart locked away in his quarters wasn’t enough proof of his ownership. Breaking you apart and putting you back together wasn’t enough reassurance that he was in total control.

It should all hurt you—it does—but a voice in your head tells you that the Doctor is not an unreasonable man. It’s soft, timid, and nostalgic in a way that makes you think of summer days and toothy smiles. It’s doused in affection akin to a king’s loyal servant feeling for their master. The voice belongs to a person unknown, though you feel that they’re closer to you than you think. Conflicted, you shakily exhale, the sea breeze turning your skin cold and your eyes dry.

Is he your god?

The question sounds once more, and you find that you have an answer this time—the Doctor is not your god, but if he were, then he is one who has forsaken you.

[abbysbug]

streamer!ellie meeting streamer!reader

summary: ellie basically being a big gay loser mess around reader

a/n: i’ve been wanting to write about streamer!ellie more so here we are

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

• she loves to go to twitch con. always excited to meet other streamers. the one twitch con she's been so excited to go to is the one you're attending.

• she'd be posting a twitter:

@carpetmuncherwilliams guys in 2 days im about to meet the love of my life!! we're literally gonna get married n have children together :33

@elliewstinks replied is this about y/n?

@carpetmuncherwilliams replied whattt no ALSO LETS TALK ABOUT YOUR USERNAME?? I DONT STINK TF

@yngamez replied cute.

• ellie DIED when she saw your reply. the blush on her face was so embarrassing.

• the day of the convention she was so nervous for multiple reasons. 1) she was meeting you? 2) what if she fucks up in front of you? 3) what if you don't like her?

• there were so many overthinking thoughts in her mind but they were all washed away when she finally met you.

• "ellie! c'mere, sweet girl." you called out to her, holding your hand out for her to take.

• she quickly took your hand in hers, relishing the way your skin felt against hers.

• you were already talking to a group of people but the moment she came over, your attention was given to her and only her. the way you looked at her had ellie blushing like a fool.

• you both hit off well though. talking about random things and getting to know each other on a personal level.

• "so, you maybe wanna hang after this convention is over?" you asked

• before this moment, everything was going well for ellie. she hadn't said anything stupid or embarrassing, but, of course, she fucked up.

• "sure. what's your discord?"

• you giggled at her and shook your head, "i think asking for my number would be more romantic."

• the colour DRAINED from ellie's face. no way she just asked for a cute girls discord. is she really that much of a loser?

• you didn't seem to mind though. you thought it was funny and cute that ellie asked that.

• when you departed ways, your number in ellie's phone, she was over the moon. of course she had to tell twitter about this.

@carpetmuncherwilliams i told you guys i had rizz. just got her number :p

@yngamez replied i wouldn't say your 'rizz' is immaculate as you did ask for my discord instead of my number, but ur cute so i'll let it slide

@buffjesse replied no fucking way you asked for her discord you fucking loser. god you are never gonna hear the end of this. just wait till i tell dina LMFAOOO

@carpetmuncherwilliams replied i hope u choke and die jesse

yeah, she was definitely a loser, but she was your loser.

[burntb4bydoll]

I love your writing soo much it hurts. 🥲

Can you please write like a 2000s bill smut or fluff ( whatever you feel comfortable with), where they build a pillows and blankets fort together and they end up falling asleep cuddled. And the rest of the band takes photos and mocks them the next day.

At this point I need fics to breathe. Thanks ✌

Thank you so much beautiful<3

This is such a cute idea! Im gonna do fluff for the people that dont like smut, cuz i feel like i dont post a lot of only fluff fics!

Bill Kaulitz x reader

Warnings: friends to loverssss🤭, nothing else really just a lot of cute stuff

When Bill had invited you to come over, you didn’t think this is what you guys would end up doing. You’re currently helping Bill set up a massive blanket fort in his living room. He originally invited you over to watch a movie, but after you arrived he decided that he wanted to make it more fun by making a fort. Even though you didn’t expect it, you were having so much fun hanging out alone with him. After you guys finished setting up the fort, Bill let you pick out a movie and you laid next to each other to watch it.

“This is fun. We should hangout alone more often. I feel like we only ever spend time with the band, I like having this type of one on one time together.” Bills attention left the tv screen to look over at you as you started talking. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out with them too but you know…”

“I know. I like this too. I’ve actually been trying to hangout with you alone for a while now, but uhh things never really go as planned…” he trailed off, his eyes moving down to break your intense eye contact. He awkwardly shifted for a minute before turning to fully face you. His head still laid on the pillow, but now he was looking at you. “Um..I actually invited you here to tell you something. Its kinda important to me…” you turned to face him too. Now you were only a few inches away from one another, you could practically feel his uneven breath hitting you.

“Whats up? You seem nervous. You know I won’t judge you, Bill.” Your hand comes up to hold his hand comfortingly. He takes a shaky breath in and stares into your eyes,

“Y/n, I really like you. And not as a friend. I wanna be your boyfriend so bad. Not a day goes by where I don’t dream about being with you.” Your eyes go wide, inhaling sharply.

“Bill..I like you too. I was literally going to tell you tonight.” He looks at you with a blank expression for a moment before giggling loudly. His adorable laugh made you giggle too. Once you two calm down a little he starts talking again,

“Oh my god I was so nervous! I can’t believe I was so stressed for nothing!” He laughs softly, leaning closer to you. You smile and shake your head, just happy that you don’t have to hide your feelings anymore. “Can I…can I kiss you?” You nod eagerly as his hands cup your face gently. He slowly leans in, placing a experimental kiss on your lips. Once you both relax a bit, the kiss turns passionate and intimate. He pulls away and gives one last peck on your lips before tucking his head underneath yours and holding your waist tightly. Before you knew it, both of you fell asleep in each others arms.

You woke up the next morning to hearing some snickers and giggles. Sitting up slightly, you groggily rubbed your eyes and looked around the room. When your eyes finally focused you realized what was happening. Bill was curled up against your side with his head laying on your shoulder. His hair was messy and he was drooling a little. The rest of the band was standing above you guys, taking pictures and laughing. Bill stirred and sat up, groaning at his brothers loud laughter.

“What are you guys doing here? You’re so annoying!” Bill grumbles, swatting away the camera that Gustav had shoved in his face.

“What are we doing here?” Tom exclaimed, “What are you guys doing here? We’re not the ones all cuddled up and being all lovey-dovey!” Georg and Gustav bursted into another fit of giggles, looking at the pictures they had took of you.

“Hey! You better delete those! I did not agree to have my picture taken, especially while I’m sleeping!” Bill jumped up and started to chase Georg around, trying to retrieve his camera. You giggled a little and laid back down.

“Its too damn early for this. Fuck you guys I’m going back to sleep.”

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 4 | F.W. x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary - Reader confronts Cedric for leaving her alone, gets an unpleasant introduction of Malfoy, and gets pushed over the edge by Fred in the library.

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, slowburn

Content Warnings - cursing, fighting

Word Count - 3.5k

A/N: thank you all so much for the support on this series! i was never really that confident in it and am constantly nervous posting new chapters but you all are too kind! anyways this next chapter is gonna be a small turning point!! im excitedd lol

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navigation |

You caught the brown headed boy walking with the crowd, even though Ced had the same look as hundreds of other boys in the school, you were always able to point him out, it was just pure instinct.

Rushing and shoving through the crowd while trying to catch up to Cedric, apologizing and saying excuses to people you pushed past, you successfully caught up to the Hufflepuff boy and you smacked him on the back of his head.

“Ow! What was that for?” He winced, rubbing the spot where you hit him.

“Arsehole! Where were you yesterday? You left me on the train! You didn’t even bother to wake me up!” You scolded him, talking to him as if you were his mother.

Merlin, you almost sounded like Mrs.Weasley when she sent a howler to Ron after he stole his fathers car.

“I just…was in a rush to get off, I wanted to get off before I would be stuck in a crowded line of students.”

“Really? Or is it that you wanted to get to Cho before anyone else did?” You accused, he began to trip over his words, he stuttered while trying to make up an excuse.

“Yes- no! Okay, maybe a bit of both. Why are you so bothered by it? Are you jealous?” He drew out the last word, teasing you.

“Because you left me alone on the train! Everyone was gone but Fred and George, I had to walk with them!” You shouted.

“Oh my Go- Are all your problems somehow connected to the twins? Is there some reason deep down inside why you hate them so much?” He retorted and shook his head.

“That doesn’t matter right now. Just next time, wake me up before you leave to go drool over a girl.” You hissed, walking faster to get ahead of him.

Your frustration simmered down within the hour, then rose again the next class due to the twins' loud presence in your potions class.

They repeatedly tried to slip the wrong ingredients in your cauldron when you weren’t looking, thankfully you caught them every time and smacked their hands away or elbowed one of them in the side.

However, they successfully stole your grinding stick when you went to grab a weakened griffin claw. They bit back smiles when you came back, frantically moving around your supplies and looking under the table to see where it went.

You looked up, George was already grinding his claw, while Fred held up two grinder sticks in each hand. Moving his head to look at each one, pretending to analyze them. You tried to snatch your stick back from him, you weren’t quick enough. Fred flung his hand back, putting it out of reach.

“Give it back.” You commanded, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to prevent Snape from hearing you. Fred knew what you were saying, but he pretended not to. Mouthing “What?” after each time you repeated yourself. George joined in on the pestering, cupping a hand over his ear, leaning in slightly.

You were so close to drowning the both of them by shoving their heads into their cauldrons full of mixed liquids and powders.

“I would suggest you give Ms.Y/L/N her stick back, unless you want to be used as a test subject to see if your strengthening potion works correctly.” Professor Snape said flatly as he appeared because the twins, you saw as Fred tightened his lips together and let out a small huff of air, disappointed that he’d been caught, that his fun was interrupted.

“Apologies, my dear lady.” He placed the stick flat on the palm of his hand, bowing down as if he was a servant presenting a crown to a queen. A few students let out giggles, becoming quiet when Snape's head snapped in their direction.

You contemplated hitting him over the head with the heavy stone object before you snatched it from him, instead you angrily grinded the claw in your bowl into a fine powder. Even though Snape did you that small favor, freeing you from the twins' mischief. It still feels as if the professor wants you to suffer by placing you next to them.

“He's like a damn shadow, a bloody ghost.” Fred tried to whisper to George, only for Snape to smack him on the back of his head as he passed by, Fred let out a small grunt of pain, rubbing the back of his head. You tried to hide your smile.

The twins hadn’t shown up to charms, which was the first good thing that happened today. But, you found out who the infamous Draco Malfoy was. A blonde slytherin who was an uptight little rich prick who bullied the Weasley family and Harry thought he was better than everyone else, and who was in ancient runes with you.

He sat in the desk in front of you, he was next to Pansy Parkinson, a girl in the same year and house as him, they obviously had a liking for each other. Constantly whispering in each other's ear and giggling, making fun of random kids in the room, complaining about the class, passing notes even though they were right next to each other. They just constantly flirted, it made you want to gag.

At one point during the class, Draco tried to impress the black haired girl next to him by answering a question Professor Babbling had asked about the translation of a certain word.

With his feet perched up on his desk, his arms crossed, back laid comfortably against the chair, he said his answer with the most prideful and cocky voice, only for it to be so far off from being correct. 

“Good try! It actually means ‘invisible’, not ‘soup’. Feet off the desk please.” The professor said nicely, beginning to go more in depth and detail about the word.

You let out a small chuckle at Malfoys failed attempt, only for him and Pansy to turn around with a scowl.

“What are you laughing about? Shouldn’t you be trying to makeout with that Hufflepuff boy?” He sneered while you grimaced, being surprised how short tempered the third year was. 

His insults were stopped when Babbling asked for both of your attention. Your hopes of today being a better day than yesterday were long gone.

One of the only good things about today was that you had very little homework then usual, Snape assigned everyone to sketch a Chinese Chomping Cabbage and research the ingredients for it, the rest of your professors only encouraged you to study, which you were definitely going to pass on doing.

You chose to sit in the library and do your sketch for your homework. Your artistic abilities were not on your side today, you had to crumple up so many pieces of parchment after failing your sketches on them.

You’d finally been able to draw a normal looking cabbage instead of a lopsided one. You traced the pencil marks very carefully with black marker, you wanted yours to look neat and nicely done.

Once you were done tracing, you grabbed a green colored pencil from your pouch, coloring in the cabbage.

It didn’t take long, you only had a small section left to fill with green. Your work was interrupted by the chair next to you being pulled from the table and sat in by a redheaded boy. 

“What’s going on?” He whispered, leaning over and sticking his neck out to see the progress of your drawing. You stopped the movement of your pencil, smacking it down on the table.

“I’m doing my work. Have you even done yours? Or at least started it?” You scoffed. He only smirked, reaching in a pocket on his robe and pulling out a folded piece of parchment, unfolding it, he proudly showed off his completed work. A deformed cabbage, scribbled lines, poorly erased lines, and sloppy coloring.

It was very obvious he put no effort into it, he probably did it in only three minutes. Less than three minutes.

“You call that a cabbage? It looks like a pile of green mush.” You scoffed.

“It’s potions, not art class.” He shrugged, grimacing. You only shook your head and rolled your eyes, one of your most used responses to anything he says.

You went back to filling in the final uncolored section of your drawing, Fred watched, his chin rested on his fist. It was kinda nice, him shutting up. This might’ve been the longest you’ve seen him be quiet for.

You could see in the corner of your eye that he had a hand in his robe, you assumed he was putting his drawing back in his pocket. What you didn’t assume was that he actually was taking out his wand, getting ready to mess with you.

“Colovaria” He uttered under his breath, with a flick of his wand, the pencil you were coloring your drawing with began to change from a soft green to a bright neon pink, ruining your drawing.

You stopped your coloring, leaning back a small bit as confusion filled your face, then it was covered with anger once you realized who was next to you, who had caused it.

Fred immediately looked away, trying to fight back a mischievous smile while pretending to look at a book he quickly pulled off the shelf. You gripped your bright pencil tightly.

“Are you serious? What is wrong with you?” You barked, yet your voice still quiet due to trying to not get in trouble in the library.

“Who? Me? What?” Fred played dumb, he pointed to himself, looking around the empty aisle, pretending he thought you were talking to someone else.

“Stop messing around, you know what. You messed up my goddamn drawing.” Your fist was clenched tightly around the pencil, knuckles turning white. “Why are you so immature?”

“Oh come on, it’s funny, you need to have a laugh once in a while.” He defended, this only made your anger bubble up more.

“It’s not funny, it’s my homework for a class I can’t afford to fail! And you’ve just fucked it up!” You shouted, your rage took over your care to respect the library's rules. 

“Shhh! Quiet in the library!” He smiled. “Besides, you can always draw a new one.” That last sentence pushed you over the edge, your emotions took over. You stuck him right in the arm with the pencil that you had your hand squeezed around, the pencil Fred had messed with.

“Ow! The hell was that for?” He yelped, he began to look upset as well. He began to look and sound angry as well. You stood up, beginning to pile and gather your things together.

“Don’t mess with my shi-” You were cut off by a very unpleasant Madam Pince stomping into the aisle, staring you down.

“What is going on here?” Pince said sternly, her tone frustrated due to the noise.

“She stabbed me!” He exclaimed while rubbing his upper arm with one hand, pointing at you with the other. He looked like a small child snitching on their sibling.

“He started it! He messed up my drawing!” You defended yourself.

“I don’t have the time to listen to bickering over coloring pages. The both of you have caused an unnecessary scene here. Ten points deducted from Gryffindor. Now, I order you two to leave the library.” She pointed towards the exit.

“What? That’s not fair!” You stated, Fred and you looked at each other in shock.

“Ah, ah. You’d better get out before more points are taken, or if you want a temporary ban from entering here. Leave, now.” Pince gritted the last word through her teeth.

You tensed your jaw, aggressively shoving your things together and then storming off down the hallways, Fred following after you shortly.

“You’ve got some good strength, maybe you should be a beater in case me or George can’t play.” Fred called out behind you, you ignored him like you always tried to.

“I’m serious, if you stabbed me a little harder with that pencil, maybe I would be paying Madam Pompfrey a visit right now.” He commented, his loud voice echoing throughout the corridors. You spun around, facing towards him while walking backwards.

“Oh shut up, it probably didn’t even break open your precious skin.” You mocked him, then you turned back around, continuing to stomp through the hallway and up the stairs.

You hoped once you made it on one of the staircases, it would move and stop Fred from following you any longer, unfortunately, it did the opposite.

As soon as Fred began to walk up the staircase, you and him felt the push of it moving in a different direction.

“I bet it did with how rough you were, you could help me fix it. I reckon you know a good healing spell.” He pipped as he stood next to you on the stairs, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Fix it yourself, I’m not helping you with anything.” You spat at him with a large amount of disgust, Fred opened his mouth to say something, however the stopping of the staircase cut him off quickly.

You decided to keep moving rather than waiting to hear what other nonsense he has to say.

“Ah, come on Y/N! I’ve seen you in charms, you’re good with your hands and surprisingly good at whipping up some spells.” The backhanded compliment made your blood boil more, maybe you should’ve jabbed him a little harder with that pencil in the library.

Tiny bits of relief were cooling your boiling blood once you noticed you were walking on the staircase that led you to the common room door. 

You said the password as soon as you were in front of the fat lady, not having a single bit of care to hear her horrendous singing, you shoved yourself through the doorway as soon as she let the door begin to open.

Fred continued to loudly talk and tease you, trying to get another big reaction out of you. You whipped yourself towards him in the middle of the common room. 

“You’re lucky I jabbed you in the arm and not the jugular.” That’s the last and only thing you seethed at him before stomping your feet up the stairs to the girls dormitory.

These past two days have been a fucking nightmare.

Fred only stood there, shocked and frustrated almost as much as you were. A tad bit of anger in his system as well.

You ripped off that stupid necklace the twins gave you, breaking the chain and throwing it on your side table.

Four months had gone by and the school year had finally ended. Things had calmed down after those first two days back, especially after what happened with Fred and you in the library. He must’ve realized how upsetting they were to you, also a bit scared that you would curse or possibly physically harm him the next time he tried to mess with you. Yet, Fred seemed quite pissed at you for a while after that, he became a bit mean. 

His face would drop anytime you’d walk by, he’d scowl at you, push past you. He’d give you the same behavior you’d give him. He stopped after a while, not allowing your presence to bother him, as his did to you.

At least him and George didn’t use you as their target student for pranks as much as they used to.

But, of course they had to end the year with a dramatic bang. 

On the very last day, when everyone was packing and chatting before they left. Fred and George set off probably half-a-dozen dungbombs in the common room due to their end-of-year high spirits. You and Hermione were walking downstairs from the girls' dorm when it happened.

You saw those stupid mischievous grins on their faces as they threw the dungbombs and ran off, giggling like little girls while you and Hermione were coughing your lungs out.

Anyways, you stopped being mad at Cedric even though he still continued to chase after Cho, you were able to drag yourself through your classes, you attempted to apologize to Madam Pince, you dealt with the twins' mischief that would occasionally be towards you, you had to suffer through the flirting between Draco and Pansy and the insults they threw out at random people, and you were able to pass all your O.W.Ls.

You arrived onto the train with Cedric, finding a perfectly empty booth as soon as you entered the train.

You both settled in, throwing your bags on the seat, and pulling out your coins to see how much you had you could buy from the candy trolley that was soon to come by.

You slouched down in your booth, the bottom half of your body hanging off it.

“Good school year?” Cedric asked.

“It’s been a fucking headache.” You sighed heavily, he let out a small breath.

“Well, as an apology for constantly leaving you behind because I do admit, I was chasing after Cho,” he tucked his lips in and slightly bowed his head in shame. “I got you…a ticket to the Quidditch World Cup.” His embarrassed attitude changed into a prideful one while he flicked a ticket out his bag. Your attitude changed as well.

“No way! You’re lying!” You shouted as you sat up.

“The proof is right in front of your eyes.” He laughed and waved the special slip of paper in front of your face, you grabbed the ticket, looking at it intensely.

“My dad got us them, he’ll be taking us in August.” He took the ticket from your hand, you scowled at him in response. “I’m keeping this in a safe place, along with the rest. I don’t trust you to.” He chuckled as he put it back in his bag.

“Oh come on! I lost something you gave me one time! It was during first year!” You protested, he only shook his head in dismissal.

“That ‘something’ was my wand and you lost it.”

“I didn’t lose it! The twi-” You began to defend yourself, only for him to cut you off.

“The twins took it thinking it was yours, yeah I know.” He sighed after finishing your sentence.

“Exactly! So technically, it wasn’t my fault, it was the twins.” You smirked and tilted your head taunting him, yet he said the last two words at the same time as you while he rolled his eyes.

You laid down in your seat. Cedric did that face, the one where he’s thinking about saying something, or about to say something. He’s debating on saying it, because most likely it’ll be something you would probably disagree with or not like.

“You know…” He leaned in, placing his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. 

Here he goes.

“I think underneath all that abyss of hate and anger towards the twins…there’s a bit of liking hidden for the Weasley twins. Especially Fred.” Your jaw dropped again, it dropped to the floor this time but with the most intense grimace.

“What?” You yelled in shock, probably loud enough for the kids in the other booths to hear, 

“Absolutely not!” You scoffed, looking at him as if he had gone mad.

“Oh come on, you’re constantly talking about them, you have been since first year, you carry that necklace they gave you everyday, your friends with their family. Face it, there’s some love deep down inside.”

“Now that’s just assumptions. One, I'm not talking about them, I'm complaining. They’ve been annoying me since first year. Two, I wear the necklace ‘cause it looks quite nice on me and I like it, and just because I like it, doesn’t mean I like them. And three, my mum and dad are friends with them, I’m only friends with Ron. I wouldn’t even say friends, we’re more like…acquaintances.” You counted off your reasons in defense of his accusations.

Cedric let out a long, disappointed sigh, shaking his head and standing up.

“Denial is the first stage. Now excuse me, I have to use the bathroom.” Is all he said, sounding like he was telling you about the worst news possible and patting you on the shoulder, then leaving the booth. 

However, he stuck his head back in, asking for a request. “Also, if the trolley lady comes by, get me a licorice wand? I’ll pay you back.” Then left actually this time.

You let out a dramatic huff, crossing your arms and staring at the ceiling of the train.

Deep down inside you like the twins? You like Fred and George Weasley? You like Fred Weasley? Oh piss off. Cedrics out of his mind if he thinks you could ever get along with those twins, let alone like them. 

The twins have been the most agitating two boys you’ve ever met. You have no liking for them, not even the smallest amount. There’s only hate and despise left for them. You don’t think about them that much. You don’t talk about them that much. You don’t really complain about them that much. Right?

“Anything from the trolley dear?”

tell me what you thought! :) or ask tba to the taglist!

TAGLIST: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @five-seconds-flat @nal-leo-17 @rhunew @albertdabuttler @weak-aesthetic @whotfskai @m00nymarauder

[sugar-omi]

Step 2 confession. Do you ever think about how this must have looked like for their classmates? For them it would've been like, the two love-dorks that have been pining for each other for FIVE years suddenly return to school holding hands after just one random summer.

YEAH

like assuming the school goes up from grade school to middle, everyone knows abt your lil love story

and ofc they're all teasing you, which sucks for cove either way. bc if he's cold, he mainly sticks to you. and if he's warm/ in between, his other friends tease him for running to you.

omg... imagine you're in school, and you let him rest his head on your shoulder while you read a book or smth

if you're seen holding hands at any point.... it's an uproar OMG IMAGONE HOLDING HANDS UNDER THE DESK N SOMEONE BENDS DOWN TO PICK UP A PENCIL N HIT THE TABLE WHILE SCREAMING ABT U HOLDING HANDS.....

okay maybe ik I just had shitty teachers but I imagine some of the more bitter, evil teachers will try to keep you two apart. some will be like "its good for you! you should make friends!"

especially to cove, and puts the same pressure on you if you're nervous and reserved.

omg. imagine someone confesses to you or him, well if it's you cove is all "oh..." *twiddles thumbs*

he explodes when u tell him u said no bc you like someone else/are seeing someone (if you say boyfriend he screams n eventually hugs u to hide his face)

if it's him, he flounders ofc but he does say no and that he likes you very much. if they're persistent then eventually he yells that he's dating you.

yeah. no matter what he like snaps.. middle of class? lunch room? after-school pickup? yeah he'll say it in front of anyone n everyone somehow

OK im... not ngl I was just gonna agree w you n ramble a bit but I'm spiraling LOL

but imagine you get into high school, ofc some kids you knew will be there and eventually it'll spread around your high school as well

THERES PRBLY PICS TOO... say like during group songs or events, or group photos, etc. there's a 50/50 chance cove is looking at you, or you him.

omg imma have to make a whole post on school hc's... pls this is so juicy

OH MY GOD WHEN TEACHERS KNOW YOURE DATING...

"hey no handholding!" cove would jump 10ft and blush n hide his face

wrapping an arm around one another? a teacher is chastising you or pulling you apart (PLS I HAD THAT HAPPEN TO ME, I CANT RMBR HER NAME BUT LISTEN HERE MS.PRINCIPAL YOU WERE FUCKING UP MY RIZZ!!!)

omg. cove tries to rizz you all the time, no matter how minor. he just wants to be close to you ok n sometimes he's not above a lil PDA he can't help it sometimes

I imagine you definitely get caught tryna kiss too. don't let it be by your classmates or a loud mouth teacher who rats u out in front of the students or other teachers YOU NEVER LIVE IT DOWN

bruh now I wanna go to school w cove.. I'd rizz him up so bad too, he'd have to walk to math class w a blush on his face and hearts popping off him bc you've given him the Fattest kiss or flirted w him all lunch n he's LOVING IT

[take-me-home-crabapple-cove]

hi im ovulating so instead of writing my fanfic, here's some dirty Hawkeye thoughts instead.

NSFW under cut.

also plz be nice to me i am literally paranoid of being percieved (i want to be a lurker but i have too many thoughts). ive never posted anything like this before so if you don't like, keep on scrollin' baby.

● holds ur head during sex so you literally have to keep your eyes on him or just kiss him.

● talks the whole time even if hes just a blabbering mess talkin nonsense. "mmph - that's – fuck....ohhhh shit" "what even – are you human? my god" "someones enjoying themself"

● "look at me, darling"

● HEAVY on eye-contact. he wants to watch whatever pretty little expression comes over your features.

● we know hes a biter, now youve got his teeth imprinted on ur neck, which he pretends he doesnt feel smug about.

● you take over?? mf is a whimpery little mess in seconds. esp if you go straight to suck his dick. words??? gone. just heavy pants and desperate hands.

● his hair is the perfect handle and his lap's the perfect saddle. save a horse, ride a surgeon, yanno?

● kiss his stomach and it's absolutely over for him. immediate nut. he's got very sensitive skin.

● period sex?? "I'm always covered in everyone elses blood, let me have some of yours too, hmm?"

● bite his ears. neck. mouth. just bite this mf he likes it

● he knows his hands are talented, and he will use them to make you fall apart and then act all smug.

● don't even get me started on the nose. nudging ur clit (if u got one). teasing ur hole. omg. i NEED him.

● main focus is that everyone is having a good time, and will make stupid jokes if you get nervous. or even if you don't, he will anyway.

● grab his neck. watch those pretty eyes dilate and breath catch in his throat as you squeeze lightly, just to be a tease.

● mans is the biggest tease. will hit on you all day until ur all hot n bothered, and hes nothing but a nonchalant ass about it when you confront him.

● grab him by the collar of his shirt. manhandle this mf (not too rough, he's babygirl, remember); throw him on the bed and pin his hands above his head. he's putty

● cums when he eats u out. not even gonna apologise, he's got an oral fixation. he talks too much, but he knows exactly what hes doing, don't fret.

● strip poker. i cant get this one out of my head. wandering eyes. growing tension. flirty banter. hands that grasp the edge of the table. tense muscles. it's still platonic, right? it's just a game, right?

[hollys-fairy-hell]

Prompt:

Dev finds out why Peri doesn’t use a human disguise

Got an outline idea for it under the cut. Didn’t mean for it to get quite as lengthy but im tired so I kept typing. Feel free to use my prompts but please tag me or send me a link cause I would love to see what you do. This should be in my bio not this post

Imagine with me now. Dev still has Peri pre final. And sees Wanda and Cosmo in human form a lot but never once Peri? Hazel has something je doesn’t and that can’t stand. Not wanting to embarrass himself in front of Hazel (i imagine this kid cares a lot about his image) he waits to confront Peri about it later.

“Peri why don’t you ever go into a human form? Or body? Or mode? Or whatever! Hazel gets to flaunt her fairies to everyone while you always hide!”

Peri in his usual fashion gets rather nervous and refuses to make eye contact with Dev. “Well Dev you see I uhh” his hands fidgeting with his wand. It’s not that he doesn’t know how or no human form picked out. “It’s just um that it’s.” Dev cuts off before he can even figure out what hes gonna say next “whats the hold up? Come on do it!” Imagine Dev doing a little stop with his foot. Peri winces and then turns to Dev with a forced smile “I don’t really think it’s-“ Only to be cut off by Dev with a loud annoyed groan “why am I even bothering with this “I wish you would turn into your human form! or whatever it is, human disguise!” At this Peri winces, gives a soft sign as he raises his wand there was a spider trying to crawl onto my face while writing this and with a poof of smoke presents him self as human.

Insert you idea of human Peri

With a little thunk of his shoes hitting the floor Peri stands there. Eyes blink a few times as he turns to look down on Dev “taadaa” he unenthusiasticly waves his arms over himself as if sarcastic. “There you go kid. My human form. Satisfied?” Dev gave him a look up and down. Peri shuffling a bit on the spot. Switching his weight. Dev began to walk around Peri as if inspecting like a new product searching him for a flaw “I don’t know what I expected. You just as lame as always but taller. He finished circling Peri, and with a final look he starts walking to the door.

Only to stop when he noticed Peri wasn’t following “well?” He turns back and looks at Peri. He sees Peri turn back into a fairy and start to float towards Dev. “No not like that! As a human!” A slight shocked look comes iver Peris face and is quickly replaced with defeat as he lifts his want to turn back into his disguise. Dev then waves his hand for Peri to follow. Peri Who is standing on the spot fidgeting with his hands a bit “listen Kid, my human disguise isnt really something I like walking around in. Or being in at all for a matter of a fact cause it’s rather pai-“ Dev once again cutting him off “it’s not even hard! Arent you supposed to be helping me? Can’t even do this one simple thing on your own?? It’s like I have to do everything by myself!” He huffs. Peri starts to respond but Dev speaks up first “I w~ish you would walk over here already!”

With a deep breath Peri uses his wand as a cane and leans on it heavily as he slowly trudges to where Dev is waiting. A slight wince in each step but he makes it there. Dev of course is unimpressed with this display “What was that? It’s just walking! It’s like the easiest thing in the world to do!” Another deep breath ‘following in your parent’s footsteps you got this.’ Peri tries to look Dev in the eye, though the sunglasses don’t help. “You know how easy it is for you use your tablet? A lot of kids or even adults struggle with technology on the level that you do everyday. But for me when it comes to walking, even though it’s easy and natural for a lot of people, it’s different. Imagine if every time you took a step your shoes are two sizes smaller. Or you have a very heave backpack on. Thats kinda what it’s like for me.” Trying his best to hopefully get Dev to understand. But the kid scoffed and crossed his arms “my shoes are always the right size and I don’t have to carry anything ever.” Thinking about it Peri had to agree “yeah I guess you are right. I don’t think I have seen you really carry much…. But thats not the point. The point that I am trying to make is walking in my human disguise, or even just as a fairy, is rather different for me. Theres no need for the details but what I described earlier is sorta how it is for me all the time. Without my cane I probably could walk at all, even with it is painful enough I don’t even wanna think about it without.” He shuddered at the thought of it. “Great now im thinking about it”

Tbh idk how to end this. I was gonna have Dev either not notice Peri wincing with each step. Have him meet up with Hazel and get scolded by wanda or cosmo (probably Hazel) about the state Peri is in. But that would require Peri to shut up and go with whatever his godkid wants. I think Peri is a bit hmmm he has some self worth to him I guess. Idk the word im tired lol.

Anyway sorry if this sucks I wrote it like three days apart and after work so im brain dead at this point.

[fel117]

I NEED HELP WITH MANIFESTATION!!!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ HIII this is like my first post ever on here!! i wanted to just yap and rant a little here about my stories and stuff here because i think it would be fun and everything and maybe there will be someone who can somehow relate to anything i say! no pressure well i basically kind of need help?? with manifestation SO THE THING IS im seeing my friend in june and im so nervous because i feel not ready at all, and yes, its just a month and i know and i believe i can do a lot of things to improve myself in that time, literally hop on higher stages of myself and become better yknow?? and achieve my goals and everything. one of my goals was also to manifest some physical appearance stuff because not gonna lie i never succeeded to manifest something big about appearance stuff even though i was regularly trying, affirming and all that stuff for it which made me so unmotivated because i couldnt manifest simple things like that as others do. after some time i kind of gave up with manifestation, now im getting back to it!! and im more than ever motivated to accomplish my goals (at least try to and be consistent with it) i noticed how i was comparing my manifestation to others manifestation and all that stuff and i believe there is a lot to fix about my mindset and all that kinda things i cant lie that im not nervous about the meeting i have in june (btw keep in mind that im not seeing regularly the friend im meeting there and i just wanted to yknow look awesome feel awesome and everything!!!) BUT MAN......i got horrible haircut. and maybe more like, not like its actually horrible but it just doesnt suit my face you know?? and im not quite used to having haircut like this, it just doesnt suit my face AND TRUST ME IM REGRETTING DECISION ABOUT CUTTING MY HAIR SOOOO BAD LOLLLL i wish i could reverse time or something FR the thing i want to manifest is obviously hair growth, like really rapid hair growth, and hair volume and all that stuff since lately my hair is just falling out like crazy and nothing seem to help?? LIKE HELP IDK and i definitely want to change my face features and all, i always struggled with baby kinda face and i know some people might say like ahahha baby faces are cute YEAH MAYBE THEY ARE TO YOU but i personally feel really bad with having one and i feel like puberty is not hitting me at all and my face just doesnt change how it look so i definitely want to try manifesting to change my face and make it more attractive!!! thats the main two things i want to focus on right now!!! though im not sure what to do to fr manifest it?? i mean i know that im the one who makes the rules about my manifestation and that its easy but seriously im seeing all those success manifestation stories and im like whaat how do they do this?? and btw if someone has any methods and tips please spill some because its really useful I SWEARRRR i want to get a total glow up or whatever you call it and manifest my desired appearance changes because i just really want to know how it feels but also because its part of my goals!!! im just quite unsure how to do all of that stuff because so many things didnt work for me in the past that i feel like its impossible for me to get results or something okay thats it for my little rant, also i feel just by letting this out i realized i might have some potential limiting beliefs and blockages that might be stopping me from getting results AND YK ALL OF THOSE THINGS!!! if someone read this THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!!! and have a nice day or nighttt!!!! BYEBYEBYE <3

[austinsgirl]

met gala | austin x reader

pairings: austin x fem!reader

summary: it’s both yours & austins first time at the met gala. not only is it both of your first times, but it’s your first public appearance as a couple.

rating: g, pure fluff

word count: 752

cross posted on wattpad

———————————————————————

Today is finally the day.

You & Austin are all dressed up and ready to walk your first carpet at the MET Gala.

But not only is this your first time at the MET, it's your first public appearance as a couple.

"Babe, I don't know if I can do this." You say to Austin, as you're in the car on the way.

"Hey, I'm nervous too. It's my first time going to this thing as well."

"Okay, yes, but we're also making our debut as a couple. I've never walked a red carpet before either. Like, how do I pose? How do I smile? What are they going to say about me? Will they like me? Will they not-

"Babe, relax. It'll be alright. You've seen plenty of celebrities walk carpets, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then just do what they do. For smiling, just do what feels right. Give em' a smirk, flash a big grin, give them a smolder."

"Okay, but what about us? What are they going to think?"

"Who cares what they think. If they don't like us together, if they just simply don't like you or me, who cares? All you need to know is that no matter what, I love you & no can change that. I won't let anyone break us apart, okay? I love you so much y/n."

"I love you too, Aus. So much."

"Alright, let's do this." he says to you, as the car pulls up to the drop off spot on the carpet.

You take a deep breath before walking out of the car, hand in hand with Austin.

Cameras everywhere, immediately on the both of you.

Austin can sense your tension & nervousness. "You got this." he squeezes your hand, reassuring you.

You & Austin make your way to the carpet. You hear the paparazzi yelling his name, asking questions like, "Who's the girl?!" "Is this your girlfriend?!"

Your heart races a million beats per minute. Well that's what it feels like anyway. Thinking, "How do these celebrities do this, with all this attention?"

Austin puts his arm around your waist, bringing you close.  You set your hand on his chest, & you look up at him. He looks down at you with those bright blue eyes. Seeing him smile, brings a smile to your face. Without any hesitation, he kisses you in front of everyone, something you were expecting.

"Wow. I'll never get over those lips." you say to him, mesmerized by his kiss.

"I'll never get over yours, so I guess that makes two of us. But um, I'm gonna get some shots with Priscilla for a minute. I'll meet you at the end of the steps?"

"Yeah, sure." you say nervously, as you're not wanting him to leave your side.

You stand and wait for Austin to come back to you. You decided to pose on your own. Might as well as they're constantly flashing their cameras. The longer you're there, the more comfortable you become.

Moments later, Austin comes back. "Im so proud of you. Look at you posing all by yourself."

"Thank you, baby. I guess it's not so bad."

You walk up the stairs of the MET & get to the first interviewer.

They ask Austin about his upcoming film "Elvis", and of course before they let us go, they ask "Now, who is this beautiful woman beside you?"

Austin responds, "This is my girlfriend, y/n."

"Well, nice to meet you, y/n!"

"Nice to meet you too." you say shyly.

"If you don't mind me asking, where'd you two meet?" the interviewer asks.

"Um, we met when I was filming "Elvis" actually." Austin responds.

You chime in, "Yeah, I was on the hair & makeup team, so of course we spent a lot of time together, getting to know each other. Before I knew it, he asked me out on a date on our off day, and we really hit it off."

"So you've been together for quite awhile now?" they ask.

Austin responds, "Yeah, about 2 years now. We decided to stay private until now to really enjoy our time together before life became crazy with all the promo days & premieres. I think it was a really good thing for us to do."

"That's great. Very happy for you both & I can't wait to see the film."

"Thank you, truly. Have a good night." Austin says to them.

He grabs onto my hand & we finished out the interviews before making our way inside to finish out a great night.

————————————————————————

[lollytea]

ms. lolly i'm getting glasses and i'm afraid i'm going to look uglier than usual in them. i don't want people to make fun of me (esp. not the guy i like. i dont think he will bc he's sweet but im still anxious) but. i'm afraid that people are gonna tease me. idk what to do and im super nervous bc i'm not attractive and i think the glasses are gonna just bring that out. do u have any tips on getting over that, as a glasses-wearer? (at least im assuming by your pfp)

sorry to disturb u with my silly ask but i hope u have a great day <3 love ur writing and huntlow posts

Hello! This kind of thing is hard to give advice on but I'll try my best :D! It's kinda like asking what kind of clothes will make you feel the most confident when only you know for sure what makes you comfortable and what doesn't. But I can definitely give you my opinions on glasses and what I feel best in and maybe you can take it into consideration.

(EDIT: OH MY GOD. I wrote a good bit about choosing glasses to feel nice in but I just read the ask again and it's possible you've already gotten them. Just scroll down to the bottom of the ask and I'll talk a bit about that if it's the case.)

You worry about not liking the way you'll look with glasses. That's okay, I've been wearing them since I was little so I feel really ugly without them. It's fine to feel a little insecure. But hopefully you'll find a pair that you think you like nice in!!

For the first ten years of wearing glasses, I had really small, thin wiry ones. Blegh. No wonder I felt so ugly during that time. They were not it. Was looking like this bitch.

But just cuz I didn't like the way they looked on me doesn't automatically mean you won't! Everyone's face is different.

Size matters (HAH) to me. I feel more happy and confident with the way my face looks with glasses depending on how big they are. I like how big glasses look. So when I was 18 I got THESE frames

And I liked them a lot!! I decided I like big wide glasses. So any frames I got from this point forward would look kinda like this.

However!! I kinda regretted the colour. It's like having a big big blocky border around your face dulls it a bit. So when I got new ones a few years later, I wanted them to be lighter. To brighten up the face area. These ones!!

They're pink!!! Or red maybe. But they're pink to ME!!! They are also EVEN BIGGER than the black pair I had. They're HUGE asgdbjnk. And I love them huge. The bigger the better. They're not really circular but they're also kinda roundish and I like that too.

So I guess think about the size, shape and colour. Would you like something more subtle like a small pair? Would you like them big and round? Getting them in a colour that you like Would definitely help!!

The thickness of the frames also matters. Maybe, since you're a little worried about how you'll look wearing them, you'd like something thinner? More subtle? Something in a pale colour/or without much of a border at all? Something that doesn't hide your face

Maybe something similar to this?

(I mean the frame thickness, not the size ahsbdjnk. We don't know what size you'd like yet.)

I kinda want glasses that look like this. I want thin gold ones like Miss Willow Park from hit Disney channel show the Owb Houb. However I don't really have that option. I'm borderline blind so I need the thick plastic frames to hold the thick as fuck lenses ahsbdjnk.

But since this is your first pair your eyes probably aren't nearly as bad and you have way more options!!

OKAY!! So if you've already chosen your glasses and are still worried about how you're going to look in them.

Alright, there are never any easy answers to this problem. How to get over not liking the way you look. People definitely like to pretend it's easy, that "Love yourself! Everyone is beautiful! :)" are these magic words that will suddenly rewire our brains into being happy and content with ourselves after a lifetime of feeling like the odd one out. When some people are put on a pedestal for how they look and some are not. It's hard to say physical ugliness doesn't exist when it's been beaten into everyone's heads that it does.

Despite everyone's best efforts to dismantle the concept of beauty standards, they persist relentlessly. They're roots in our brains, roots in society, and they're roots made of iron. So it is nobody's fault for being unsatisfied with themselves even after trying for so long to forcibly inject some girlboss confidence into their bloodstream. Its hard. It will always be hard.

If self love isn't easy at the start, aim for self neutrality. Just not hating is a good place to start.

It seems like you're not comfortable with yourself without glasses, so maybe if we start with that, your face with glasses will be way easier to accept.

In the end, you only have the one face to get you through this lifetime. And it's a lifetime you will waste if you spend it wishing it was different.

Everyone's face is a rearrangement of facial features, none of which are inferior to anyone else's, no matter what we've been mentally trained to believe.

You're a masterpiece all on your own. Every feature on your face belonged to someone in your family who came before you. Every feature you have was once adored by someone else. Specifically because it was a feature that belonged to a very wonderful person.

One day there will be someone who loves you more than anything. They'll love you so much than when they see a face that even looks remotely like yours they'll think that it's beautiful.

If it helps, mess around with your appearance a little. What colours do you like? Patterns? Skirts? Button up shirts? Long hair? Short hair? Dyed hair? Cardigans? Jangly jewelry? Figure out what's the most beautiful to you and add them to yourself. If you don't like your face, drown it out with what you do like. Until it gets to the point where its so distinctly you that you couldn't imagine this whole look without your face attached to it.

If you get to that point where you can feel happy with how you look as your default, then sliding a pair of glasses on and off shouldn't make much of a difference.

Thank you for telling me you like my writing and my posts. You seem sweet. I'm sure that's what people think when they're reminded of you. I'm sure that's what the guy you mentioned thinks. How can a person really be ugly if you associate their face with warmth and kindness?

Stay kind to others. Be kind to yourself. There's not much else I can say.

Good luck, love <33

[acesofspadess]

Live {2}

summary: after a silly little comment on Niall's live, who would've thought it bring you...well here....

a/n: so the drama begins.....

64.media.tumblr.com

“I choose Kelly.”

6 March, 2023

“Hi my name is Maia Quinn, i am 22 years old, and i'm from Dublin Ireland, but am currently living in LA”

Throughout the next 3 years, you released an EP titled ‘Live’ . It was an homage to the thing that really kicked off your career, the live with Niall. Niall had followed you and liked a few of your posts for the months after that, joining some of your lives and having small banter. But in reality, you hadn't had any interaction with him since. You texted him back and it was never answered for almost 3 years. It seemed it had all been forgotten, which you knew would probably happen. 

“I was born in Dublin, and later on moved when I was 5 to a small town. Coming from a well known small town doesn't really do much for you in the long run. I was constantly told I would never be a singer. That just because I was from where I was from didn't mean that I would go ‘hollywood’. That really does quite a toll on a young kid just finding out what her dreams are.”

The clip showed you walking down a hallway to the stage.

“Being here on The Voice today is to prove to me and all the young little girls that are told they can't do it, that they can if they want to. And that's what really matters.”

Next artist is walking on stage

“I can feel this one. They're gonna be good.” Niall whispered to his co-judges. 

You raised the mic to your lips and made yourself get lost in the music.

Summer after high school when we first met We make out in your Mustang to Radiohead And on my 18th birthday we got matching tattoos

The audience cheered slightly and you let the nerves dissipate

Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

You opened your eyes as you heard the turn of a chair and saw Kelly looking at you

Talk about our future like we had a clue Never planned that one day, I'd be losing you In another life

You watched Kelly stand up and you felt all the nerves come back

I would be your girl We keep all our promises Be us against the world In another life I would make you stay So I don't have to say You were the one that got away The one that got away

You waited for your next part and saw the next chair turn…

Niall

You closed your eyes and continued.

Cause i now i pay the price

You held that note letting it merge into the next

In another life I would make you stay

You opened your eyes to see Niall singing softly with you and you quickly looked away

So I don't have to say You were the one that got away The one that got away

When you finished you turned around to let yourself not freak out and turned back around to face the judges. “I know you.” Niall spoke when the audience died down and you knew the look of shock and betrayal flashed over your features before you smiled and laughed awkwardly. “Wait what? How?” Kelly questioned from her chair. “I sang a cover of one of his songs on live once.” the audience cheered and you looked down. 

“Wow, that's crazy!” Kelly gasped. “Well tell us who you are.” Chance spoke up. “Im Maia Quinn, I'm 22 and I'm from Dublin, Ireland, but now live here in LA” the audience cheered and you saw Nialls smile falter. 

“Wait you have this small speaking voice and this giant singing voi- what just happened?” you laughed and apoligised before Niall spoke up. “I love voices with so much, like, character like you've got. It was incredible to see you up there after all this time, what 3 years?” you nodded softly trying not to let any feelings from the past show. “Watching you hit these powerful notes and seeing how much improvement you've gotten in 3 years, and still being so young is incredible.”

You thanked him as he kept going. “I can see you're nervous, gripping with two hands. But I've been there before, shaking on a stage. But you are gonna grow so much in this competition and I can't wait to see it first hand.”

You thanked him again and turned to Kelly as she spoke. “Hi Maia!” 

“Hi Kelly!” 

“Okay your beautiful eyes were closed, but i turned around like way before him.” she pointed to Niall and you laughed “and I was like okay, I don't know if that's nerves or if it's her just really loving this message and wanting to be the vessel for it. You had me in the beginning, when it was a beautiful whisper as for how you were sounding, and then it, like, exploded in the chorus. And i am great at teaching vocalist, like breath control, bubbling before you get out there, like really making sure that you are solid with your vocal ability, that by the time you get out, your not nervous. But I'm just a really big fan of your voice.”

You and Kelly both saw Blake pass papers to Niall and Kelly scolded them. “Kelly can't coach nerves. She admits it.” Niall read and everyone laughed as she confirmed it. Niall talked to you and praised you a little more, “truly has been a battle to death here.” Blake spoke up sarcastically as Niall and Kelly had gone back and forth praising each other. “Maia, who do you pick to be your coach?”

You were confused to say the least. You head was screaming Niall, but your heart was feeling heartbreak. You knew Niall would lead you down the right path, but you didn't want to be left at a fork in the road alone again.

“I choose Kelly.”

@youcan-nolonger-run @luxiorchive @maeflowers653 @ravenclawdirectioner

[lexithwrites]

omgg, I just saw the ship tags on your post, and now I can ask without being nervous! Maybe prongsfoot or rosekiller for the 6th promt? Thank uuu (just know I'd violently boop you if it was still an option)

no worries! im happy to try almost any ship (within reason haha) but imma try rosekiller for this one, i haven't properly written anything for them so hopefully its okay! thank you for messaging and please never be worried about requesting a ship! i'm always happy to write!

(quick lil tw for this one its not really non-con but there's a brief moment where barty 'struggles' he doesn't, he's faking, but just in case i'll add a little * so people know!)

6. “I can’t believe you just sucked me off in an alleyway.” “I can’t believe you let me.”

Evan's head whipped around when he heard another group of people come out of the pub, laughing and tripping over themselves from all the drinking, and then gripped Barty's hair a little tighter. He looked down at him, watching the ways his eyes welled up with tears, and smirked.

"Breathing okay, Crouch?"

From around his cock, Barty grunted and swallowed to make Evan gasp, but it also made him push him down further so his nose was nestled against his abdomen. Barty couldn't have been happier.

"You're gonna get us fucking caught." He hissed, rocking his hips and fucking the back of Barty's throat. It was beyond heavenly, it always was. "But I bet that's exactly what you want, isn't it? You want people to see a cock in your mouth, on your knees for me, covered in spit like a whore. So fucking pathetic."

Barty gripped his thighs and started bobbing his head, wanting Evan to finish so he could swallow his cum already. He'd been patient and waited all night, even when Evan dragged him into the bathroom to edge him. Now he just wanted his reward. He didn't care about getting off himself, but he wanted to taste Evan on his tongue. It's all he could think about most days.

Evan threw his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the people just down the alley from them as well as the sinful choking sounds Barty was currently making as he drooled and choked and gagged on his cock.

"Fuck—shit!" Evan covered his mouth and thrust harder, letting cum hit the back of Barty's throat. * Barty was scrambling for air beneath him, weakly trying to push him away so he could breath. They both knew he didn't care about breathing right now, but it was fun to pretend and struggle a little. *

When he was done, Evan pulled Barty back by the hair and made him get to his feet so they were face to face again, and he grinned at the fucked out expression on his boyfriends face. He was covered in his own spit and tears, eyeliner running down his eyes, and Evan cocked his head to the side. "You look disgusting."

"Just how you like me." Barty's voice was ragged and wrecked. "Put your dick away, asshole." Evan did, and then pushed some of Barty's hair back so it wasn't sticking to his forehead.

"Can't believe you just sucked me off in an alleyway." He murmured, leaning in to kiss him. Barty chuckled and licked into Evan's mouth so he could taste himself.

"I can't believe you let me, Rosie."

[slowdripsunrise]

MORE READING UPDATES OMLLLLLLL i forgor about this blog again. it will happen again tbh but i still have to go through all of the books i finished in late 2023 up to now... i'm gonna try and get as many as i can done but probably wont get all of them lol. probably very long post/rant + spoilers for various books under the cut

keep in mind i have shit memory and all of these books were finished a while ago so be warned for bad analysis and summaries

-How High We Go in the Dark by Sequoia Nagamatsu: this book was a collection of short stories that are interconnected through characters and a central storyline - a plague. i thought the concept was super interesting and i had heard really good things about it from people i share a reading taste with so i went into this expecting to be blown away and i just. wasnt. i LOVED some of the short stories and there were a few that made me cry, mainly snortorious and the robot dog story where the mom died, but other than that it was kinda a let down. the ending fucking sucked ngl. like i thought we were leading up to some profound moment, especially calling back to the chapter where people are relieving their memories in the dark, because i thought that was really compelling and interesting, but it was just fucking aliens. like it reallly feels like a cop out to me. like a whole "and it was all just a dream" type ending. im not gonna rate it actually yes i am i'd give it like 2.5-3 stars. only because some of the chapters were super hard hitting but other than that. meh.

-The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater: WHOOOOO BOY. i ate this shit up. god if i had read this in middle school or high school i am 100% certain it would have become my entire personality. like i fucking get it. i totally fucking get it. i'm treating the whole series as one book rn bc they all kinda blend together in my mind and its been a while but just. the fucking vibes. good lord the vibes were so good. can't pick out any 100% certain things i particularly noticed but i will reblog every webweave about this series there is trust. rating the entire series as 5 stars mostly because i listened to the audiobook and they did SUCH A GOOD JOB ON TH E AUDIOBOOK OML like. at first i was kinda thrown off bc i wasn't expecting it to be so. southern? but once i finished the first one i knew there was no way i could just go back to reading it with a physical book like audiobook all the way the narrator was so awesome and i love the southernness of it.

-What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher: my first t. kingfisher book! i loved the vibes, the world, the whole new set of pronouns, that shit was so fun, overall a nice short and sweet creepy ass fucking book. like im a huge wimp so i was deffo nervous and freaked out at some points, especially with the rabbits lol idk why but those were unnerving. the author did a really good job of conveying the mc's anxiety and fear while also adding in some humor and soldier rationality and stoicism. lol. cute i liked it 3.5/4 stars.

-Fault Lines by Emily Itami: tbh mostly picked this one up for the cover and it was really just a standard cheating story where the mc gets back together with her original husband because of their kids. nothing i remember to be groundbreaking at all really. 2.5 stars

-Olga Dies Dreaming by Xochitl Gonzalez: I really wasn't expecting to like this book as much as I did. the pov changes i think were very well done and intentional and weren't confusing at all! the narrators for the audiobook were wonderful and really brought life to the story, a lovely book.

-She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan: honestly, looking back on it, i was never really captivated by this story. it took me a long time to get into it, and i really never connected with any of the characters. a lot of it was more confusing than not, and i'm honestly not sure if i feel the need to continue the series. may be a case of me not being in the right mood for it, but i don't see myself trying it again. kinda sad cuz i was excited to love this but oh well. win some lose some.

-Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr: hands down my fav book of 2023 and one of my fav books of all time. like i have a feeling this review is going to be either very long or very short because there is no way i will be able to write out all the ways i love this book. the owl motif. the environmental extremism from seymore that i can 100% relate to. the way that he fell down that path in a way that felt realistic to me, based on his circumstances, and it isn't implied in my opinion, that all autistic people are like this, that all autistic people can take things to the extreme like seymore did. the audiobook was wonderful. the interconnected stories over time i think is one of my new favorite tropes/plots/metas. if done well (cough how high we go in the dark) it gets me every single time. XENO and everything about him. i was listening to the audiobook at work and during his death i had to fight back tears lol. god. and the kids in the play and how they wanted to end the story.... fuck my life. and konstance and her curiosity and oh my god everything about this book messed me up. 5/5 i think thats all i'll be able to say before i combust.

-Chlorine by Jade Song: what a weird little book. really liked it. audiobook slayed. not much else to say. recommend for weird lesbians. 3.5/4 stars.

-A Dowry of Blood by S. T. Gibson: THE AUDIOBOOK NARRATOR IS SO FUCKING GOOD AT HER JOB I COULD LISTEN TO HER TALK ALL DAY I THINK IM IN LOVE WITH HER. the story was really good love a good vampire story love a good creepy story. fun time. listened to the audiobook in like an hour hour and a half car ride it was a good time. 3.5 stars.

and that ends off all of the books i read in 2023 !!!!!!! YIPPEEE!!!!! i'll stop here and make a separate post for the books i've read so far in 2024 just for organizational purposes and also because i am hungry and need to stop lol. if you made it this far through the post i love you and also sorry for the long rant but also too bad because this is my blog and you clicked on it. happy reading :)

[twiggyart6]

collecting short funny things to write under fanart of characters you really love

please feel free to add more thank you :3

(this is long as shit be prepared)

ough

looking at them

my friend :)

mwehehe

augh

I can't believe this

brain blasted

what a little freak

do you even care

be so fucking for real

your kidding

what a weirdo

a wonderous creature

consider this

from my personal collection

what the

I'm so normal

I'm not normal

why are they like that

evil swag

TEEHEE

I'm gonna frow up

yeah this is pretty cool

pretty fucked up dog

have you seen this?

my beautiful princess

I'm ill

oh good heavens!

my son. he has every disease

this shit aint nothin to me man

I laurve them

yoink

just a little bit. as a treat

tell them to stop

me when I GET you

MY GUY

the psychic worm (wohwohwohwohw)

good lord

cuteness aggression towards them

what the fuck ever

im feeling something

sigh

me when the

GRRAAAHH

im fucking serious

love it when they appear

its becoming unhealthy

go white boy go!

your never gonna believe this

worst guy ive ever seen

their just so ... drawable

sorry guys

i saw it in a dream

she is very gorgeous to me!

i see them when i close my eyes

my little scrungle

be so fucking for real

i can do whatever i want

bitch

yeah

my baby girl

my little kitty meow meow

they've done something to me

i gotta get outa here

yep

my favorite white man

dude!?

full of joy a whimsy

going cray cray!

well....

erm

heyy gurl wasup

she is beuty she is grace

aaaaanything could happen

just like me fr

its time

yahoo!

divine retribution

yay!!

so was foretold in the prophecy

their so ... woah

yessir

god. fucking. damn.

they understand me

you are not immune to propaganda

Explodes character with mind

Forgive me

I would tell them my most depraved thoughts

for the win!

my treasure my beloved

awesome

oh yeah woo yeah

thats it thats the post

this above all else

-INHALE-

had to get it out of my system

you absolute baby buffoon

but make it epic

dont question it

gay baby jail

mwah <3

i want to make them into bread

no guys you don't get it

i got nervous

every fuckin time man

[puts face in hands and groans loudly]

no way

DONT DO THIS TO MEEEEE

take a deep breath

stupid little bow wow

cringeposting once again

abandon society, embrace insanity

god has let me draw another day

had to do it

changed my brain chemistry

so the thing is-

im going to make you so girlfail

pathetic wet cat

guys.

their neat idk

or something like that

ATTENTION!!

i have the disease and its terminal

shrimply amazing!

hits you with the beam

smile :)

send help

oh hi didn't see you there

no i will not elaborate

the creature is demonic in nature

i think there's something wrong with them

i think there's something wrong with me

its fine

woah woah woah

do you even realize what you've done

very cool

do you see my vision

whatever the fuck this is called

the strugler

interesting..

oh i got you dont worry

nobody move

character on the brain always and forever

#1 hater

funny you should say that

nature is healing

imagine a guy. now imagine them again

ooo mama

get drawn idiot

get obsessed over idiot

if only they were real

post this character instantly

your honor i need them

ive got some notes

A juicy morsel

I want to push them down the stairs

They wouldn’t dare

(Eyes wide and mouth frothing) yeah!

my beautiful wife <3

[whollyjoly]

hi em!! sending positive vibes your way ✨ ✨ thanks for doing the positivity ask game! this is a super cool idea, and i knew i couldn't not stop by to send you an ask :) 1, 3, 11, and 18 !!

hi blu!! 💕💕

im so glad you're enjoying the ask game!! i hope a lil positivity will make everyone smile a little brighter today!

1 - what is your fav part about being in the fandom?

i answered this in a long and sappy way here, because i am a sappy gal apparently 😅

3 - what are some fics that you go back and read again and again?

ohhhh my god i am both so glad and so sorry you asked. fuck. there are so many?? i have an embarrassing amount bookmarked, so i'll try to keep it to a sane amount of one per ship

winnix It Happened One Night by raquelelpillo (M, 7.7k) - the fucking timeloop fic every fandom needs. i've read this fic three times in the last three weeks, i read it again last night and i've never been happier. it makes me laugh it makes me cry lip is an absolute gem in this story, and i LOVE their nix so hard!! 10/10 would recommend

baberoe Baby, You Can Drive My Car by anonymous (M, 16.1k) - Baby Driver AU in the canon era?? i know that makes no sense, but hear me out - babe fucking steals cars in germany/austria and runs errands with the boys?? its that perfect golden vibe in points, the war is almost over and its sunny and warm and beautiful and they are alive, and it is pure shenanigans. i don't think i stopped smiling once reading this fic. if i had a qr code on my tombstone it would be to this fic.

speirton A New Mode of Living by Perpetual Motion (T, 155k) - i mean...what do i even say about this fic. it's everything. you know a fic that completely just defines canon for you? that you read, and then no matter what else you read you can't help but think that it isnt right, because this fic is the canon in your head and nothing can overwrite that?? yeah, this fic is that for me. the most perfect post-war story, i love carwood SO MUCH, i love their ron, i love all their supporting characters (george especially and also mama are such gems!!), and the dog is a metaphor. fuck. i love this story so hard.

11 - songs that you associate with a certain character?

heh i like that you asked me this after we nerded out over sleeping at last songs the other day 😏

(also, i'll try to steer clear of killers songs cause that feels like cheating lol)

Seven Nation Army (Postmodern Jukebox Cover) - this gives me BIG speirs vibes?? the song seven nation army feels very right for him ("i'm gonna fight 'em off / a seven nation army couldn't hold me back"), but the added vibes from the postmodern version just hits so right. is it the brass break in the middle?? maybe. do i love it?? yes i do

Saving Me, Saving You (Ruen Brothers) - is ABSOLUTELY eugene roe coded. like holy shit. "broken me found broken you / while you're saving me i'll be saving you" ?? like are you kidding me?? the absolute power this song has over me, i dare you to listen to it and not feel the urge to do something dramatic and romantic

Agnes (Glass Animals) - if you really want to make yourself fucking sad, think about this song as nix during why we fight (and even sadder if you imagine it being sung from dick's perspective 😭) and fucking SOB like i do every time i hear it ("where went that cheeky friend of mine? / where went that billion dollar smile?" and "your head is so numb / that nervous breath you try to hide / between the motions / that trembling tender little sigh")

Piece of Me (Britney Spears) - look, alton more is That Bitch. not fucking a week in normandy and all everyone can talk about is the gossip about speirs, and more's talking back to him without giving a goddamn shit. he took a joy ride on one of sobel's fucking motorcycles. he snagged one of the most incredible trophies of the war and lied to ronald mf speirs face about it. do you want a piece of him?? more will absolutely look at you dead in the eye and not even blink. "i'm mrs. oh my god that britney's shameless / i'm mrs. extra extra this just in" bitch he IS and he is KILLING IT. and i am obsessed with him for it.

18 - your fav fandom meme?

i mean...we know the obvious answer (bottom text)

BUT i also want to give this post a fucking shoutout because it lives in my head rent free, i literally spent an hour scrolling through tumblr the other day trying to find it for my bf. WHAT MURDAAAA

thank you so so much for stopping by, and im sorry my answer is kinda long 😅 i love that people are enjoying this game so much!! 💕

from this post!

[dylansslutt]

Daddy Issues 4 / R.C

the long awaited part im so sorry my loves!!!! i have been in such chaos but not chaos, i got a good idea but i wanted something to be posted its been forever and i feel horrible for not posting lately.

warnings: like every chapter

 i roll over to feel a hard body beside me, my eyes opening softly. forgetting everything of last night my eyes widen at the sight of a shirtless rafe. everything coming back to me i rolled away from him, my knee and body slowly starting to ache.

 i look around for my phone but find it nowhere, for fuck sake. i softly get out the bed and head inside the bathroom, flicking the light on. my appearance made me gasp slightly, leaning closer to analyze myself.

  from my dad to those guys, i look horrible. luckily washed from any dirt, but the scabs and bruises were littering my skin. i go and take another step and about lose balance as my right knee gives out. i grip the counter but still made a huge thud against the cabinets.

 “fuck!” i mutter softly, sitting on the toilet in tears. everything ached and all i wish i could do was have my mom. even though the bitch left all i wanted was her.

 “selene?” rafe opens the door, half a sleep but worried. i rub my face in defeat, “im sorry, i-i about fell and just hit the-” pointing towards the sink cabinets that banged together.

 as he opens his eyes more they almost pop out his head at the sight of me. i shake him off, “im fine.” i go to stand back up but quickly sit back down at the ache of my knee.

 “you’re not fine.” he kneels down looking at my knee, “it’s bruised really bad, maybe even sprained, but not broken or torn.” he mumbles looking up at me, making me laugh softly.

 “okay dr.cameron.” i mock jokingly but he leans forward catching me by surprise with his lips softly touching mine. i kiss back slightly before pulling away.

 i couldn’t express my emotions right now, he said what he said; we did what we did. yet i’m still so nervous and worried over everything, and not even over somethings.

 “he-hey, baby. what’s wrong?” he stands up worriedly, i sigh standing up ignoring the pain.

 “th-this rafe! i told you i liked you, but yet do you realize all that happened yesterday? do you?” i snapped letting my internal freakout known. i sigh before pushing past him into the room.

 “yes, i realized what the fuck happened last night! i saved you!” he calls out after me making me turn back towards him swiftly.

 “oh so you’re just the knight and shining armor right? i’m the damsel in distress that’s pathetic just like m-my dad. oh my g-god, he h-i was almo-.” i feel my throat start to close and tears spill down my cheeks.

 rafe pushes me back to sit on the bed as he holds me. “shhh. i promise you i was high and stupid, you’re nothing-nothing like your dad.” he carefully pulls me in.

 “i hate it rafe.” i sob into his chest, “im so scared an-and i gotta take care of us. i ju-just cant take it.”

 “those guys from last night, you’ll never have to worry about them again; i promise you that.” he reassures me as i sit up some, sniffling softly. “it’s not even just them.”

 “move in! move in get away from your dad, selene.” he tries convincing me but i shake my head. i can’t leave jj, i can’t do that. i just need to get a second job and rack up my money.

 wiping my face i wince softly, “i can’t leave my brother rafe, besides i have a plan.” i look down at my clothes then my clothes from last night in a pile.

they were gross and stained, great.

 “what’s the plan, keep getting abused selene? ‘cause that’s not an option.” his eyes meet mine and i sigh. “no, im gonna get a second job, get an apartment for me and jj away from my father.”

 he stares at me hard and keeps silent, which i couldn’t tell what he was thinking. instead of waiting for him too i spoke up again, “do you think i can borrow something from sarah? my clothes are ruined.”

 “yea don’t worry, i’ll talk to sarah.” he moves to get up but i quickly catch his hand. “please, don’t tell her about this.” i beg quickly as he focus his gaze on my face.

 “i won’t, you’re my girl. no matter what your secrets are safe with me.” a soft warmth spreads throughout me and i just nod softly. when he leaves the room i lay back feeling nauseous from my head ache, and the whirlwind of thoughts i had in my head.

--

      after changing into some of sarahs clothes, which thankfully covered most of my bruises. “you know you can’t go home.”

   i knew this, he didn’t need to remind me. “yes rafe i know this, im going back to john b’s im just stressing about what to tell my brother, okay! i dont need you telling me this every 5 seconds.” i snap as i sat up from his bed.

 rubbing my face softly, “im sorry. i just...” a sigh escapes me, i should just leave. i stand up and glance around seeing my bag. “can i use your phone?”

 rafe nods before handing it over, i type in kie’s number before dialing it. turning away from rafe, i wait for her to answer.

 “hello?”

 “kie.” i breathe out, “sel? where the hell are you, and who’s phone are you using.”

 ignoring the questions, “i’ll explain later, just please can you pick me up from sarah’s.”

 “you’re at sarahs? wha-” i interrupt her. “stop, please. ill explain once your here.” she sighs and tells me she’s on the way.

 i bite my lip turning back to rafe who’s look was unreadable, “rafe-

 “no it’s fine, do what you want selene.” he gruffs out before snatching his phone and keys before heading out. leaving me alone in his room, confusion and sadness over taking over.

 this wasn’t how anything was suppose to play out, rafe was a stranger from afar. the ‘king kook’. nothing made sense anymore and it was drowning me alive.

 instead i reach down softly, picking up my clothes. annoyance rang through me as i got reminded i have no phone anymore. i heard no noise so i slowly make my way down the stairs, ignoring the pain in my leg.

 without even looking for rafe, i just walk out the door. the sun was blaring making me squint, walking towards the end of the driveway. i only ended up waiting for about 5 minutes until i see the all to familiar van pull up.

 thankfully kie was alone as i got in, her gasp echoes through the air at her sight of me. “i know.” i mumble trying to keep the tears down, throwing my dirty clothes onto the floor.

 “you didn’t answer any of ou-” she starts but i quickly cut her off. “i don’t have a phone anymore... it broke last night.” i pull down the visor taking a better look at myself.

 i had a black eye, slightly swollen cheek, and a busted lip. honestly not that bad. “what the hell happened selene?” kie snaps making me stare out the window, asking myself the same thing.

 “a lot...kie.” i mumble and she scoffs, “im gonna need more than that.”

 i roll my eyes and shift my view back on her, “does jj know i called you?” she nods, “only that i was picking you up, not that you were at sarahs. which what the hell were you doing there?”

 i sigh leaning back slightly, “i wasn’t there with sarah, kie. i-i was with rafe, but before you start.” i quickly rush out before rubbing my face softly, careful of the bruises.

 “last night... i um i was walking right a-and these guys, tha-that owed my dad money.” a tear slides down my cheek making me harshly wipe it away. “they attacked me, a-and rafe wa-was there so-” kie interrupts me as i began sobbing.

 “oh my god... sel.” she pulls the van over onto the side, few streets away from john b’s. i look at her through my tears, terrified of everything at this point. kie quickly pulls me into a hug, allowing me to sob into her.

 “i-i dont know what to do, i am the oldest! i go-gotta get me and jay somewhere safe.” i pull away sniffling softly, wiping my tears with my shirt.

 “hey, this isn’t all your responsibility. we will help, dont worry about jj he’s gonna be fine.” she tries to reassure but i still feel doubtful. “look if you want stay with me for a little, jj can stay with john b. plus im pretty sure my dad needs extra help, so you can pick up some extra shifts.”

 she wipes my last tear, and i glance in her eyes with admiration. “thank you for always being there for me.” the confession was soft but enough for kie to rehug me.

 as she pulls back and starts the car up, i fidget softly. “what do i tell jay?”

 she sighs, “the truth... as bad as it seems i think you should.“ keeping quiet i knew she was right, i can’t hide anything from him. im glad though i can stay at kie’s, i can’t handle the situation with rafe right now anyways.

 we pull up and the rest of the gang was chilling, making me even more nervous. pope’s eyes lands on me first, him sitting up with concern.

 “selene?” he questions making everyone look at me. jj jumps up out of his seat, walking forward with so much furry.

 “jj calm down.” i mutter as he got closer, “who did this?” he growls out, but i just pull him away from the group.

 “please, stay calm. okay i’ll tell you everything, but please listen.” i beg the taller boy who resembles me so much. he stays quiet but loosens his tense gaze.

 “last night, some guys dad o-owed money too...” i trail off motioning towards my face. “rafe cameron actually saved me and i stayed there last night, it was nothing i promise! he actually...helped?” shock still left me in awe.

 obviously i wasn’t going to tell them every detail, but analyzing jj’s face he only  nods. “i still dont fuckin’ like him, but im glad he was there. do you remember what the guys look like?” he keeps his voice down on the last part.

 i shake my head no, which was a lie. they were burned in my memory. “i need you to stay at john b’s for a little, i’ll help with groceries and everything but you have to stay the fuck out of trouble okay!.”

 he goes to speak but i cut him off, “im not finished, i will be at kie’s for a little. i will be working two jobs busting my ass for us a place; so for the love of god stay the hell out of trouble and get a part time job.”

 with that i walk away from him and towards the group. “hey guys, who’s in the mood to get fucked up?”

-

 the light shining bright on my face woke me slightly, a groan leaving my lips at the pounding headache. squinting slightly i see everyone still asleep around me, instead of waking up anyone i sit up quietly.

 we all got piss drunk last night, and the place was a mess. i glance up at the clock on john b’s wall, 10:12 am. i get up and make ways around everyone to get to the spare room. i find my backpack, opening up to see my work clothes.

 i switch the light on to the bathroom, thankful the power was back on over here. turning the shower on and hopping in, washing away everything that felt stuck on me. mentally more so, everytime i close my eyes it never leaves.

  after getting dressed and covering my bruise the best i can, i walk out towards the living room. kie was up and on her phone, but the rest of the boys were asleep.

 “hey baby.” i whisper softly at her, dropping down beside her. her hand rest on my arm lovingly, “when do you have work today?” she questions making me glance at her phone to see the time. 11:15.

 “12, you think you can give me a ride?” she nods yawning, “yea, i need to go home anyways. my parents are on my ass.” we both get up, me grabbing my small purse to put the essentials in. still mad i have no phone right now.

  -

    the ride to work was nice, kie offer to pick me up. which i only responded with i’ll call her off the work phone. i love kie to death she instantly became one of my best friends, i just feel guilty for needing her help.

 i pull my vape out as i stand off to the side, hitting it a few times before walking in. “selene!” the voice made me jump turning to look around. my sight lands on rafe, beside’s his car.

 my mouth drops open, looking around nervously. “what are you doing here?” i make ways over to him, confusion written all over my face.

 “im sorry about yesterday, so i got you something.” he mutters pulling out my phone from behind his back. “wh-what? i thought i dropped it bac-”

 “i found it and got it fixed for you.” your eyes not even really on the phone, more so captured by rafe’s gaze on me. “i-i can’t accept this.” rafe only steps closer.

 “call it um... me proving to you i really care for you, sel.” his left hand cups my jaw softly, my eyes never leaving his. “rafe...”

 instead of finishing the sentence, he pulls me close kissing me differently this time. it wasn’t rough nor soft, it was as if he was making sure that only he could kiss me this way.

 i pull back with a giggle, “rafe... i have work.” i motion towards the building behind me. “thank you though, for fixing my phone.” i smile up at him, his gaze on my lips still.

 pecking them softly, he begins to back up. “text me on your break.” and with that im left with a fixed phone in hand, and a red tint across my face. what the hell?

 shoving my vape in my pocket, i swipe open my phone. instantly texting jj and kie, my phone got returned somehow. not lies but still lying, i sigh and head inside.

 before i reach the door, a text dings causing me to glance at it.

 rafe: when are you free next?