#She’s the only divine thing he’s ever believed in

[regalthecat]

Listening to my tears ricochet

Listening to my tears ricochet AFTER reading the poppy war and the drowning faith

#AND YOU CAN AIM FOR MY HEART GO FOR BLOOD BUT YOUD STILL MISS ME IN MY BONES #She’s the only divine thing he’s ever believed in #the only creature in this vast cruel land who could kill him #and sometimes #in his loveliest dreams #she does #screaming crying sobbing #this book has finished me #fang runin #rin #yin nezha #rinezha #chen kitay #sring venka #the poppy war #the dragon republic #the burning god #the drowning faith #r f kuang

[astreetcarnamedkendall]

one of my favorite ways authors portray love (in any of its platonic or romantic forms for example) is as an act of devotion or like a religion. i can't properly describe why - maybe in the future when i simmer on it for a little while longer - but it's just always been like that. so this section (in conjunction with previous passages) of les mis drives me up a wall:

"can you be good for something?"/"but i have a vague ambition in that direction," said grantaire./"you don't believe in anything"/"i believe in you."

oh! like there's something so interesting (and beautiful) of even if something isn't totally in your nature/wheelhouse or you're skeptical of it that you do it anyway just because the other person believes in it and you believe in them whole heartedly. it's a trust thing too. you'll set aside your worries and doubt for that person because you trust them so much. ugh it's everything

#again she's the only divine thing he's ever believed in... #brain is currently melting sigh #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #les mis #les miserables #currently reading

[keyleths]

for a series that's very much not about the romance the poppy war manages to out romance every recent romantasy that i've read

#'she's the only divine thing he's ever believed in' bro..... how do you expect me to recover 😭🤧 #poppy war lb

[stormwvr]

i fucking hate r.f. kuang it's been a whole fucking day since i finished the poppy war trilogy and even if the execution of the last book wasn't my favorite the ending still broke me and my brain is just repeating quotes from the drowning faith nonstop on loop i want to fucking kill myself

#she's the only divine thing he's ever believed in #he loves her of this he is certain #she's the most magnificent thing he's ever seen #“dont try to speak” because it'll kill him if she does #he doesn't tell her that his hands holds the blade #she terrifies him and he loves her so much it hurts #yes i've gone insane like rin #tbg spoilers #the burning god spoilers #the drowning faith #the burning god

[stars-in-a-jam-jar]

I don't think Buddy asks Helio any questions.

Kristen asked 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' because she believed in all the good things she was taught, but noticed the strange disconnect between the world as it was and the world as it was taught to her. So she thought, surely, if I can't come up with the answer, Helio will have it. And she hates him for dodging her question.

Buddy is far more deluded than Kristen ever was. And he is far, far angrier inside as a result, even if he deliberately conceals this fact from himself to protect himself from the inevitable mental breakdown this would cause. Buddy is not as altruistic and giving and caring as Kristen is. He wouldn't question why he was betrayed or dig into a question like 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' Those aren't the answers he needs, because of course he'd be betrayed by someone outside the church, that makes perfect sense. Of course bad things happen to good people, we simply live in a fallen world.

Or, well. He used to live in a fallen world. Now he's dead here. In Helio's divine domain.

I think Buddy, as he wanders through fields of corn to the big farmhouse where Helio is chilling out, privately thinks about the fact that Kristen Applebees' horrified expression was the last thing he ever saw before a sharp pain in his throat. I think Buddy assumes Helio knows he's thinking this and apologizes for bringing thoughts like that into paradise. I think he thanks Helio for recognizing his devotion and bringing him here once he died and dutifully deceives himself about his own rising emotions at contending with the fact that he's dead now.

After all, he was raised to die. He was raised to want to die.

To want to be here with his god whenever it was he called Buddy to him. So he doesn't feel upset, no, of course not. He's just a little surprised at how sudden it was. (How completely random. How unceremonious and unfair.) He's a little bit worried how his grandparents would react to the news is all. (He cracks a joke that maybe he'll see them here shortly after they do get the news. He doesn't laugh at it.) He had his own plans for how he'd spread the good word in life, but of course, Helio had other plans. (Nothing Buddy ever wanted really mattered. He knew that, he knew the will of Helio was the real thing that mattered, and everything else was just a small list of preapproved extracurriculars in the syllabus of his life.)

He can't be upset about this.

He shouldn't be upset about this.

This is his reward.

This place and these people and this god are his reward for a life of service and devotion and walking in the light.

It's not his place to be upset about his own reward. Kristen got upset when she went to heaven, when she met Helio, and look where that got her.

Look... look where that got her.

He thinks he hates her. For looking at him like that. All the ways she looked at him. Like he was something pitiful and contemptible. Someone she needed to threaten away from her little brother. Someone she has to double and triple check if he's going to revive her when he's under magical oath to do just that or lose his connection to a divinity she threw away after being chosen.

And then. In that last moment, she looked at him and he saw grief and horror and caring. Like his death was awful and unfair and tragic.

And he thinks maybe he hates her for that. For challenging him every conversation they had and looking at him like she knew something he didn't. Like she was above him. Like killing your own god twice in life is a preferable fate to living for the promise of eternal sunlight and cornbread in death. A promise which was kept to him.

Kristen was promised to Helio, too.

And he can't unsee her face. He can't move along and focus on what truly matters (Helio, the church, spreading the word, doling out divine punishment when needed) because he's reached the end. There is nothing left. Only this bright sunny cornfield and a god who... is nice. And who cares about him, personally. He got Buddy's name wrong the first and only time they held audience.

He thinks he hates Kristen, and he hates that that hatred isn't immediately squashed out of his soul just by being here. In paradise. Where he belongs. Where every follower of Helio belongs. Where he never has to have anyone look at him the way Kristen did ever again.

I don't think Buddy Dawn asks Helio any questions. Because how do you ask the god you devoted every waking minute of your life to, 'Why do I hate it here? Why does this feel like hell?'

(There's a part 2 now that the next ep is out >:3)

#fantasy high junior year spoilers #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #d20 fhjy #dimension 20 #buddy dawn #kristen applebees #kristin applebees #cw death #religious trauma #wow I really said 'he was raised to want to die' without even flinching didn't I?

[helluvapoison]

Lend A Helping Hand

Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk need help preening

warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not

[ii]

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Lilith used help… when she was around. The thought of asking someone else, much less the act itself, scorched him with guilt

• Oh well. Lucifer did it before, Heaven had rules about it, so he can do it again! And of course he did! It doesn’t mean it’s not an excruciatingly long process he puts off as long as he can tolerate

• You walk in on him attempting to strain his arms in ways they certainly shouldn’t bend. “Need some help?”

• “Pfft, who me? No, no, no I—“ He pauses. It’s like the predicament he’s been caught in settles in slowly, his smile dropping and crimson irises widening to rival a puppy’s cuteness. “Yes.” He admits meekly

• Your fingers barely touch his feathers and Lucifer jolts. Like him, his wings are so sensative

• Don’t take it personally when he tries to back out after that, cheeks bright red from embarrassment. He has six wings and can barely tolerate your touch as is. This could take a while, he already feels bad

• After a teaspoon more of convincing and a gallon of reassurance later, Lucifer sits as still as he can (which isn’t very) while you gently break open the pin feathers

• You could tease if you wanted, make a joke to try and settle his nerves but something tells you his wings aren’t the only thing that’s sensitive

• Lucifer appreciates your assistance and tenderness more than words can describe, nothing seems like a big enough gift to reward your hard work

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Usually it’s Lute that would help him (and vice versa if he feels like it) but she’s nowhere to be found. He can’t casually ask anyone else. Heaven and its inhabitants can be weird about certain shit, preening is no exception— even though everyone has wings here!

• Walking past Adam’s office, you heard a crash and a lot of swearing. “Sir, are you—?”

“Unless you’re gonna help, fuck right off!” He growls from the ground, still reaching at an awkward angle for his wings

• He’s shocked when you sit on your knees beside him and swat his hand away. “If you make this weird, I will leave.” You warn. He doesn’t dare make even a single comment

• Adam shivers when your fingers glide into his feathers. You wave it off the first time but can’t stop a laugh when it happens again

Face first into the carpet, his loud voice is muffled, “Shut! Up!”

• You take pity on him and don’t drag the process longer than necessary. Awarding yourself a final pet of his oddly soft wings, you stand up, “There. All better?”

• Rising to his feet and giving his wings an experimental stretch, he shrugs nonchalantly, “Thanks. I guess.”

• The next day, you receive a basket from Goody-2-Shoes with various snacks. The card reads, ‘Let me know when I can return the favor. Wings don’t have to be included. ~ A’

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• You know she needs help when she’s more irritable than usual. Snapping at everyone, even Adam, and flinching when her wings move in the slightest

• Approaching the subject with her is harder than anyone. As aforementioned it’s unspokenly taboo but that isn’t what stops her. Lute’s deep rooted issues with intimacy and needing help will make her walls thicker than ever

• “This is inappropriate,” Lute whispers.

In the dead of night she’s finally allowed you to assist but keeps fidgeting and surveying the area like someone will catch you two.

“It is not,” You roll your eyes, “Get your mind out of the gutter and be still! I’ll have you’ll feeling better in no time.”

• She seriously, seriously doubts that. Anything she can’t do herself, amongst certain divine exceptions, no one could do for her

• …But she’s letting you help (and your adept fingers are doing a better job) So either she doesn’t fully believe that, or you miraculously raised her expectations

• Lute decides the latter is acceptable– and a compliment, especially since you prove her wrong. Triple checking her wings, she can’t find a flaw or deny how wonderful they feel now.

• “This is adequate.”

You snort, “You could just say thanks?”

“How can I repay you?”

“I just told you.”

• She narrows her eyes, shocked and suspicious that you wouldn’t want anything. Lute, again, decides that your endeavor deserves an equal act of goodwill. Don’t take it for granted when she says, “No. I owe you one. One.”

˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• She genuinely forgets what’s wrong with her when she needs to preen. Even with her wings folded away, the irritable pricking can be felt. She’s itching the back of her neck, hand clawing under the crew of her shirt and dipping between her shoulder blades when you ask when’s the last time she checked for pin feathers

• Vaggie’s always been independent. Up in Heaven she was a bit cocky with the fact she never needed help to reach them. Now, she felt helpless and stupid. Her arms cramped up, her hair kept getting in the way and the itching only progressed

• “Can I–?”

“No.” Her ivory eyes go wide, surprised at the fury of her own voice. Sighing and avoiding your (what she assumed was a) pitiful gaze, she apologizes. “Sorry. I don’t know why I… I used to be able to do this alone.”

Pausing at how defeated Vaggie sounds, you do your best to keep a positive, neutral tone.

“Cut yourself some slack, you haven’t done this in years. And, y’know, you don’t have to do it alone now. Not if you don’t want.”

• Smiling at the offer hanging in the air but not quite accepting, she goes about her managerial duties only to knock on your door afterwards

• Vaggie’s so grateful you can’t see how dark her face becomes as you sort through her wings. They’re not sensitive, they never were– it’s something about your fingers delicately touching her that cracks her resolve. Now she starts to understand why this was seen as an intimate act upstairs

• “Thanks for…” Still blushing, she gestures to her wings before hiding them, “Thanks.”

You try to keep up with her indifference but can’t help the smile spreading across your face.

“No problem.”

• If you think she’s not replaying the moment over and over in her head for days afterwards, you’re wrong. Vaggie’s desperately waiting for the moment to be just as useful to you

˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He’s hardly a fan of Angel touching him the way he does so a solid relationship is required to unlock the level of trust needed for this activity

• The first time it happens when you’re in his life, he won’t ask but also doesn’t reject the offer. Just looks extremely hesitant and uncomfortable

• Carefully, you pinch the rough layer and eye Husk from over his shoulder

• He breathes out a laugh, “Gonna take more than that to hurt me, sugar. Go on, I’ll be fine.”

• His wings might be the least sensitive… but that could also be all that alcohol in his system

• Husk hums as you work. After he gives a big, cat-like stretch and thanks you with a tip of his hat

• The simple gesture means more than you know, he’ll never forget it

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ accidentally on purpose put them from most to least sensitive wings hehehe

big big big BIG thank you to @kottenox for the inspiration and letting me take this idea and run!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #platonic or romantic #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #hazbin hotel adam headcanon #hazbin hotel adam x reader #lute headcanon #lute x reader #vaggie x reader #vaggie headcanon #husker x reader #husk headcanon

[kirain]

Wall of the faithless isn't canon in bg3. They changed alot of things actually. So no Gale isn't "scared" he's just an obsessed asshole who doesn't learn from his mistakes.

Oof...

There's really nothing I can say except: you're wrong. The City of Judgement and the Wall of the Faithless are canon to BG3. If you don't like Gale, that's fine, but you don't have to make things up or completely disregard the lore to do it. Larian Studios literally hired people from Wizards of the Coast—the company responsible for all the canon lore, characters, and campaigns in D&D—to help them with the story. It took them five years, I believe, to fully study and understand the lore. They constantly conferred with the team to double, triple, and quadruple check every slice of content they added to the game, and parts of the game are now considered canon to D&D 5E.

As for Gale "not learning" from his mistakes ... when you first meet him, he literally admits he made a mistake with Mystra. Though personally I don't see it as the "power-hungry" move people seem to think it is. Gale simply wanted to be considered an equal to his partner (really his groomer), which is a perfectly healthy and normal desire for anyone in a relationship. Your partner should treat you like an equal, but Mystra very clearly saw Gale as a pet. A trophy. A worshipper. Subservient. Beneath her. A silly mortal with delusions of grandeur (which she cultivated), which is really rich when you learn she was once mortal herself. Mystra is a hypocrite.

Gale tried to prove himself worthy of equality by trying to bring Mystra what he thought was a piece of her missing Weave. For anyone who doesn't know, the current Mystra was torn to pieces by Cyric and Shar, then put back together by her Chosen. Though back to full power by the events of BG3, she's still technically missing pieces of herself, and Gale mistook the Karsite Weave for one of those pieces. Instead of simply telling Gale it was corrupted Weave, she let him go on believing it was hers. Personally I think that's because she was tired of him (maybe he got too old for her 😒) and was hoping he would do something that, in her mind, would justify abandoning him—but I admit that's full conjecture on my part. What is true is that she knew the orb wasn't hers, but for some reason she let Gale think it was. Even after she abandoned him and left him to die, she never told him. Not until she realised she could use him.

In Act 3, while the argument can certainty be made that he's thirsty for power, Gale ultimately becomes fed up with the gods because, as he knows better than anyone, they treat people like commodities. While I have no intention of ever ascending him myself, it looks like he actually makes good on his word. He doesn't threaten or toy with his followers, he inspires people to walk their own path, he only asks for prayers as payment (as without some form of devotion, gods in D&D cease to be), and if you romance him ... he ascends you into godhood as his equal. Mystra could have done this for him, she just didn't want to. And if you don't want him to ascend, it's genuinely so easy. I don't understand what people are complaining about. It takes one conversation with zero checks to convince him to completely abandon his ambitions. One. If he was truly "power hungry", it wouldn't be that easy.

Again, I would argue that Gale's true goal isn't really power, it's freedom, and divinity gives him that freedom. He has many conversations where he makes it clear he doesn't want to live under the gods' thumbs anymore; which, in a world like Faerûn, is extremely understandable. As I said in my Wall of the Faithless post, he's scared. Eternal torment for a simple mistake, one of which could've been avoided if Mystra told him the truth or treated him like an equal? When your partner is a goddess, how can you not feel inadequate? And if you convince him to give up the crown, he's perfectly content with Mystra's forgiveness. Even in the Early Access, that's all he really wanted.

Gale's far from perfect. He's arrogant and overconfident and insecure and he can be prone to emotional outbursts (most of which he apologises for, however), but he's nowhere near the heartless, power-hungry monster the haters seem to think he is. He is, in fact, one of the most compassionate companions in the entire camp, to the point that he accepts everyone, including Minthara. He votes for Astarion to stay when you find out he's a vampire. He gets mad at you if you surrender him to the Gur. He's one of the only companions who will openly marry/stay with you if you become a mindflayer. He's willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, and willing to damn himself to be with you. He loves every act of kindness, while hating every act of cruelty. I understand that the bugs from launch ruined a lot of people's perception of him ... and unfortunately some of those glitches are still present even now, but he is a good man.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #karlach #karlach cliffgate #wall of the faithless #city of Judgement #wizards of the coast #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #astarion #minthara

[cherryjuiceblues]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐊 𝐀𝐓

➯ HARRY’S GROWN IN SOME PLACES AND Y/N IS MORE THAN OBSESSED. ✰ sexual content. size kink. daddy kink. degradation. creampie. minors dni. 𝑤𝑐 5k

Harry was changing.

And he had been for a while. Slowly but surely—bit by bit—and all Y/N could do was sit back and watch.

Y/N thinks (and she knows she’s biased because, well, she loves him more than life itself, but still thinks) that Harry will always be the most beautiful man in any room. No matter his age, or the clothes he wears, or the facial expressions his features are presenting, he will be pretty personified to her.

And she never thought he could look better. Because he always looked like he’d been handcrafted, slaved away at for hours to achieve the sharp line of his jaw or the divine slope of his nose.

But now he was changing.

And Y/N was wrong.

Another thing she believes (or had believed) is that being with Harry removed any and all of her preferences when it comes to attraction. No matter the way he looked, Y/N loved it—would never change a thing—would never think that maybe that shirt would look better if his chest hair was thicker or that those trousers would be sexier if his thighs were bigger, or that that suit would be more impressive if he was taller. 

Because Harry was visually stunning, always. And even if in the past, Y/N might have been more attracted to a rugged beard, or a different hairstyle, or a specific type of dress sense, then all of that went out of the window when she met Harry.

But now, Y/N was being proven wrong.

She supposes it was a small change at first, so subtle that she didn’t even notice—because Harry had always been strong, even if it didn’t necessarily show and he’d never hesitated to throw Y/N about whichever way he pleased (which could tend to be an insecurity of hers at times).

When she did start to notice though… Nothing else could catch her attention. Whenever he walked into the room her eyes would drift, and whenever she was looking at him whilst he spoke, she’d be itching to lower her gaze and feel her pupils dilate.

Harry didn’t understand at first. He had picked up on her recent lack of concentration, and of course he had, he was attentive—but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was distracting her so much.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

It’s when the weather starts to warm up enough to get his arms out that it clicks.

And that’s what he’s smiling about now, as he hauls patio furniture about and potters around—in a black tank and highlighter yellow short shorts—doing all the garden jobs that had been ignored during the winter and spring. Admittedly with much more flexing than is necessary—after his minx of a girlfriend reacts far too excitedly at the delivery of a new pod chair, and squeezes her thighs together in anticipation, before proceeding to lounge around in her shortest of sundresses with the horniest of gazes as she watches him work.

Harry’s trying to be subtle about his amusement, wanting to play with her for as long as he can now that he knows why she’s been drooling for him more than usual. But his tummy is fluttering with excitement as he schemes the best way to rile her up.

He thinks she’s probably already wet, if the clenching of her thighs is anything to go by as she sits in the pod chair she watched him assemble; her naked legs swinging gently. And he’s worked up quite the sweat, out in the sun for a while already—droplets starting to trickle down his back.

So he thinks it only natural to remove his shirt, biceps straining as he reaches behind him to tug the material over his head. 

Y/N’s breath hitches. No matter how many times she sees Harry’s body, it makes her go all silly without fail. And the same happens now as his glistening, tanned, ink-covered torso is revealed and her eyes start to fight over which part of him to gawk at first.

He’s big. Bigger than he’s ever been—and Y/N must send his PT some flowers or something because she’s sure she’s never been so turned on in her life and that deserves a thank you, doesn’t it? 

Harry’s chest rises and falls gently, pecs dusted in sweat-soaked hair that Y/N has never wanted to lick more. She knows she can stare; is well past the point in their relationship to care about being caught—wants to get caught even, to aid his teasing that does so much to her insides. A drop of sweat trickles in between his abs and Y/N always swore she didn’t care for the definition of those muscles, but on Harry… he looks like the posterboy for all pornstars. Everyone’s wet dream, everyone’s type, everyone’s secret fantasy.

Yet, it’s still his arms that stun her the most. She’s not sure why—if it’s solely because of some undiscovered size kink or how obviously he could overpower her—there might not be any deeper meaning other than looking sexy and strong. Maybe it’s because they’re so big that they bulge with every movement, muscles contracting and golden, tattooed skin stretching. Maybe it’s the fine hair that covers his forearms—that have also become considerably thick and meaty. Y/N has lost count of the amount of times she’s wished to sink her teeth into them. Especially when a particular vein or tendon makes itself prominent. Paired with the fact that she has always been undeniably turned on by his hands and Y/N doesn’t stand a chance.

It’s like the man she’s known, who was already completely and utterly everything she could ever want, has been multiplied by ten. And now Y/N is left to try and function as a normal human being with this Greek god of a man who has arms bigger than her head.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“—I don’t think I love you anymore.”

Y/N flinches, eyes shooting up to Harry’s and away from his body.

“Oh, so now you listen to me,” he rolls his eyes, smirk obvious.

“That’s not funny, Harry.” Y/N frowns, heart going a million beats a second. “Why would you say that, you dick.” She hoists herself out of the chair and storms towards the patio doors. With no way she’d ever make it very far, as Harry drops the tools he was using to assemble a coffee table and hastily swoops in behind Y/N—wrapping her up in the things that got her into this position in the first place.

Her back meets his chest. His bare chest. And his face meets her neck, stubble tickling her skin. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean it.” He’s smiling. Y/N feels his arms tighten around her waist. “You weren’t listening t’me, were you?”

She huffs and says, “No,” in a tone that Harry never appreciates.

“You know I don’t like it when you ignore me. I’m far too needy, aren’t I?”

Y/N hums something incomprehensible, ashamed by her pathetic reaction to such a basic body part.

“C’mon, come back. Y’givin’ me something pretty to look at whilst I work.” Harry pinches her waist and she can’t help but shriek a laugh, body betraying her when his fingers dig in.

“You weren’t even looking at me,” Y/N scoffs, reluctantly making her way back to her chair as Harry finishes up on the floor.

“How would you know?” His arms bulge as he screws the table together. “Weren’t exactly staring at m’face, were you, love?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, fluffing up her dress around her thighs.

“I’ve noticed something recently,” Harry starts, admiring his handiwork before getting to his feet and making his way over to Y/N. He picks up a previously ignored bottle of sun tan lotion on his way. “Or, you’ve noticed something, I suppose.”

He kneels before her, hands steadying the gentle swaying of the chair before he smooths them down her legs and props her foot up on his thigh. Y/N pretends to not have a clue. It makes her belly tingle with juvenile excitement.

“What do you mean?”

Harry pops the bottle open and generously squeezes the lotion into his palm. It’s cold as it meets Y/N’s calf, and she twitches a little. But Harry’s hands are warm; he already knows that thirty seconds of this will have her melting into him. 

“You think I don’t see the way you’ve been looking at me lately?” He massages the muscle in his palms and Y/N sighs blissfully.

“I always look at you the same, my love,” she exhales.

“Hm? And how’s that?”

“Like you’re the only man in the world.”

Harry pinches her thigh and Y/N yelps. “Don’t get all soppy on me now. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” and like the sadist that he is, Harry subtly flexes his arms—covertly enough that it looks like a completely involuntary twitch of the muscles. But Y/N’s eyes snap there regardless, and Harry smiles, vast palms moving up higher on her leg as he applies more lotion and starts on her thigh.

“I don’t know, Harry. Why would I look at you different? What’s different about you?” Her voice holds the tiniest of inflections that only Harry would notice means she’s being playful. And it riles him up some.

“Okay, baby. If that’s how you wanna play.” Harry switches legs. He’s much less slow and tender, digging his fingers into her calf and holding firmly when she tries to pull away. The strength he exhibits only has Y/N’s eyes even more trained to his body. When he gets to her thigh he pushes her dress up until her underwear peeks out and delivers a harsh, unexpected slap to the inside—purposely where it hurts a little. Y/N gasps and her hips push up. Harry pays her no mind, applying more lotion before rubbing it in—far too high under her dress where no sun is reaching—and Y/N can see where this is going. Which Harry is coming out.

It all happens so quickly; Harry’s hand pushing against her collarbones to angle her awkwardly against the deep back of the chair, slumping her body surely unattractively, before flipping her dress up higher and tugging her to the edge. His breath fans against her warmth, cruel eyes looking up at Y/N in her stunned state. He leans down and his arms curl under her thighs, hands resting atop and squeezing them tauntingly. God, she can feel his biceps tensing against her.

He’s right there. Lips ghosting across where she needs him. Close enough to barely peek his tongue out and have it meet. Right there. And then he’s gone. Shrugging her legs off his arms and standing up, making some comment about how they need to buy some more sun tan lotion as he goes to walk inside.

Y/N is scrambling off the chair. “Fuck you!” Her hand shoots out and grabs Harry’s wrist. Immediately he spins and flinches away from her, replacing her grip with his own and twisting her arm behind her back. Her chest pushes into him as he leans down.

“You think I haven’t noticed how much of a brat you’ve become?” His voice slicks down her thighs. Oh. “Never fucking listen to me anymore,” she tries to reach for his waist but he twists that arm behind her as well until he’s holding both of her wrists in one of his hands. He leans down further so it’s even harder for her to balance as she bends back. “Just drool over me like a needy slut, don’t you?” Y/N whimpers, the only thing she can do is look up at him. “You’ve been treating me like a piece of meat—staring until your pretty cunt is dripping, right? I can treat you like a piece of meat too, sweetheart.”

“Shut up,” she pouts, before whining, “want—you,” neck aching from the angle she’s bent at. Harry laughs, pulling her hair a little for being a brat, before ghosting his mouth across hers.

“I know. Made that pretty fucking obvious, you silly girl.” He plucks at her bottom lip with his thumb. “You don’t need my cock to be fucked dumb, do you, baby? That little head of yours is always empty.” He squeezes her cheeks together with his fingers. Harry smiles down at his girl’s wide doe eyes staring up at him, completely at his disposal. “Speak.”

“I’m empty,” Y/N nods, giving up her attitude, “need you.” And that’s not what Harry meant but it’s close enough.

“I don’t think you deserve it,” he whispers into her mouth—and then he’s standing behind her, wrists still firmly in his grasp as he shuffles them closer to the windows. The sun glares down, casting a clear reflection of the both of them. Of Harry wrapping his forearm around Y/N’s collarbones, forcing her back to arch. “You haven’t been honest with me,” the entirety of his body is pressed against the back of her. It has her mind scrambling. “You’re not good.”

It’s a low blow. One assured to have Y/N begging and pleading in no time; desperate to make him happy, and desperate to be pleasured.

“I’m…sorry,” she frowns, eyes fixated on the reflection of their bodies. “Wanna be good f’you.” Harry squeezes her wrists as a warning to keep them behind her back before letting go to wrap his other arm around her waist—excited himself by the way he engulfs her. He bends down, causing Y/N to go with him, and the weight in his shorts is growing heavier by the second as they just look at themselves.

Y/N stops herself from wiggling back; doesn’t want to misbehave for a second—not anymore. “Please. All I think about is you, Harry. A-all the time,” her breathing is laboured and her underwear is suffocating. 

And this is how he gets her. “What do you think about?” He turns his face into her shoulder, nudging her sleeve off with his nose before dotting distracting kisses along her skin.

Y/N hesitates. This is what the game was all about. Pretending there was no reason for her gawking. She’s stubborn. But so is Harry. The arm around her collarbones shifts until his large hand is cupping her throat. Y/N’s knees nearly buckle right then and there. Her head tips back a little against him but he squeezes the sides of her neck, right where the blood is fighting to flow, and forces her to look back at the reflection.

“Tell me.” His voice is so deep, so low; the vibrations spread through her like treacle. “Look at me,” he squeezes again, “and tell me.”

He doesn’t ease up around her throat so her words are tight. His arm moves down to her hips. “You’ve got…so…big,” she whimpers. “Everywhere.” Harry’s hips twitch, dying to rut against her ass. But instead, with teasing fingers he lifts the hem of her dress. Up and up until he can stuff it between his hand and her throat, obsessed with the way her bare stomach rises and falls at a rapid pace.

Y/N’s flimsy panties don’t stand a chance—the once pale pink now a much darker hue in the place she needs him most. But Harry wouldn’t be so kind. He makes her think he’s going to rub on her like she wants, middle finger trailing over her clit with a feather-light touch. Barely there but still enough to make her twitch. He does it again—a small circle—before dipping lower, pushing in her underwear and feeling it slick against her.

And then he rears his hand back, too quickly for Y/N to realise, and brings it back down to her clit in a harsh, tight slap. She buckles and writhes, held up solely by the hand around her throat as Harry trails his fingers along the inside of her thigh. His smirk tickles against her shoulder.

“Har—Harry!” she gasps, unable to stop her body from moving against him now, not whilst she’s thrumming.

“I’m big, yeah? Too big for you, surely. Look at the way I swallow you up.” Oh, and she is. With half-lidded eyes and shallow breaths.

“Yes, I love it, Harry. I love it,” her hips search for his hand and he pushes her against him, spanning across her mound.

“That’s not everything though, is it?” Another squeeze around her throat. “Be good.”

She tries—so hard—as Harry starts to suck and bite marks into her skin. “Arms, it’s your arms,” she breathes, head foggier and foggier by the second. He eases up a little when she starts to slump, tracing his thumb across her lips.

“What about them?” Fingers slip inside her underwear; a reward for using her words. Even as he starts rubbing small circles, he knows she’ll cum quickly.

“So hot, Harry. And big.”

He laughs, “Y’already said that. Just so hot and big, aren’t I?” The narcissist in him goes wild, cock twitching in his shorts. And he allows himself one rut against her, just to take the edge off. But Y/N wants more—of course she does—and she’s starting to make all sorts of pretty noises as he rubs her clit. So Harry keeps moving, sure that the feel of him against her is propelling her towards her orgasm whilst he’s barely teasing himself.

“You’ve got a slutty pussy, Y/N,” he tightens his hand around her throat once more, lips brushing her ear. “Drenched because your boyfriend can manhandle you, yeah? I could do anything to you ‘n’ you’d let me, wouldn’t you? Because you’re so desperate for it.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N nods shakily. She’s trying to keep her eyes on their reflection, to see Harry’s muscles work as his fingers hide in her underwear, and the way his hips push into her ass. 

“Tell me.”

“Want you to—manhandle me…use me—need t’cum.” She’s building up, can feel as Harry smears her arousal around in a mess before rubbing harder on her clit. And faster.

“You g’na cum?” Faster.

“Yes! Yes, yes, please.” He lets her throw her head back, lets her reach the edge, whimpering and whining just as she starts to let go.

And then he’s gone. Harry rips his hand from her pussy and shoves his glistening fingers in her mouth before she can talk. Y/N cries around them, shaking her head in a desperate plea.

“Mmph—no!—Please,” she tries, but how could Harry ever understand what she wants?

He takes hold of her wrists again and bends her forward by her waist, kicking her legs open wider. She’s completely held up by him; if he were to let go, she would topple straight over, no doubt about it.

With a heavy hand, Harry pushes her dress up and over her ass and delivers a well-connecting smack to the rounded flesh. Y/N mewls, legs shaking in surprise. It’s harder to maintain her eye contact with the window at this angle, especially when all she wants is to lull her head like she’s weightless. Harry wastes no time in tugging her underwear halfway down her thighs. Finds it satisfying to keep her somewhat immobilised.

And Y/N couldn’t care less, as soon as she feels Harry pulling himself out and sinking into her—she’s sure she wouldn’t notice if their house was burning.

He barely lets her adjust, and no matter how wet she is Harry’s always a stretch. A deep inhale, body stilling kind of stretch. And once she’s full and his pelvis pushes against her bum and they both allow for a second of joint ecstasy at being as close as possible once again, Harry is quick to treat her the way she so desperately wants.

His other hand comes up to her hair, pulling it sharply so Y/N’s neck bends back. “Look. Watch as I fuck you.” Incomprehensible noises are forced from her throat, jaw hanging looser with each inch that Harry invades. She’s never been more grateful to have a secluded garden. 

The sight before her rivals one from a porn film—fitting for her sex god of a boyfriend; she could only hope to look pretty enough next to him. Her body bent forward, neck stretched and inviting, back arching with the force of her arms behind her back. Thighs open just enough to fit Harry’s cock into her weepy hole, flesh threatening to rip the underwear that controls their freedom. 

Occasionally the sun will reflect just right and Y/N will notice the glistening of her wetness spread across her mound. Though her eyes soon fall shut with the strength of Harry’s thrusts, unrelenting and point-proving.

“Fuck. Can feel you squeezin’ already.” His words shoot straight to her clit, tingling and buzzing. “So easy, aren’t you, pet?” Y/N nods fruitlessly. “I shouldn’t let you finish,” he threatens against her ear. “Should fill you up with my cum, have you serve your purpose and then thank me for it.”

She pulsates at the thought, at the warmth of feeling him drip down her thighs. Sometimes dripping around the sides of his prick if Harry’s particularly wound up and has a few rounds in him.

“Please,” Y/N cries, sweat beading at her hairline.

Harry groans into her jaw, hips meeting her ass bruisingly. “Yeah? Filthy girl, jus’ my hole, aren’t you?”

“Mhm! Please cum in me, please,” Y/N tries to turn her head, nose bumping into his cheek. She wants a kiss but her brain cannot possibly communicate that to her mouth as it hangs open.

The sounds of skin meeting skin ring in her ears and her throat threatens to cry perfectly timed noises with each thrust. And she’s not sure when it happened but her tits are out of her dress and Harry’s letting go of her hair to palm one roughly as he starts to breathe heavier and heavier.

Body leaden, Y/N’s head falls back to his shoulder and her eyes peel open slightly, watching Harry’s face contort beautifully from above her. She wants it so bad—knows that he’ll always make her finish regardless—needs to walk around in her summer dress and cum-soaked panties. “Please, Daddy. Cum in me.”

The name has Harry groaning, hips stuttering and stilling against her as he paints long, thick stripes inside Y/N. “Thank you!” She cries, his release stimulating her like nothing else. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Despite Harry being the one with orgasm heavy bones, Y/N crumbles, knees buckling as she takes them both to the floor. He braces her fall, arm strong around her waist. His cock stays twitching inside of her, still hard, and he angles her ass into the air as he stands on his knees astride her legs.

“You good, baby?” Harry smooths a hand up her back, pushing her dress out of the way.

Y/N’s arms stretch above her, content to be lying on the hard floor. “Yeah, really good. Thank you, Daddy.”

Harry smiles softly to himself, she’s under. “You wanna cum?”

“Am I allowed? I said some bad things to you.”

“That’s okay. I want you to squeeze on my cock ‘n’ let me fuck my cum into you. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods nastily, head turned to the side on the concrete. He’d take care of her later.

“Good girl, nice ‘n’ tight, f’me.”

The noise of their arousal mixing together, probed by Harry’s cock is one he’ll replay in desperate moments alone. Squelching and slicking as he starts up his rough pace once again. Y/N contracts around him in quick, spasming motions—hips attempting to push back from her awkward position. Her tummy is hot and her clit is painfully untouched; she’s sure she’d grind it on the floor if she could reach but Harry’s hands are firm on her hips, angling her just the way he likes as he pounds into her tight hole.

Harry wishes he had his phone to hand—would take enough pictures of the sight before him to last forever. His cum is starting to leak out the sides, dripping down to Y/N’s clit and slicking up his cock. The mess of it all has his eyes rolling back.

“God, y’just perfect. Wanna keep you like this forever. Make you sticky with my cum, then maybe take you out and watch you try to ignore the feeling of it dripping out of you.” Harry slaps her ass and moans as she spasms around him, hands pulling her cheeks apart to reveal her other hole. “Wanna mark you everywhere. Especially here.” He thumbs over the puckered skin. “Fill you up and push in every drop, then give you a pretty plug so it stays inside all day.” Y/N’s shaking, eyes clenched shut and pussy quivering. All Harry has to do is reach around and start rubbing tight circles into her clit and she’s gone.

“Harry! I’m cumming, I’m cumming—D-daddy, thank you.” Harry leans over her back, kissing the side of her face and not slowing down for a second.

“Gimme another,” he whispers, speeding up his thrusts and slapping her clit one, two, three times, vibrations elongating her orgasm and sending her straight into her second one. Harry pulls back, regretfully pulling out for a moment to flip Y/N over and tug her flush against him. He wraps her thighs around his waist and guides her arms around his neck, endeared by her fucked out expression. “Doing so good, honey.” She smiles, eyes closing and nuzzling her face into his neck. Harry thinks if he wasn’t already hard, that smile alone would’ve given him a love boner.

“Jus’ sit all pretty, Daddy’s got you.”

He holds her hips securely, palms encompassing miles of skin, and lifts her just enough to start fucking up into her cunt. Their cum will surely make a mess in their laps but he minds none—goes faster at the very thought, even. Thinks about scooping it up with his fingers and feeding it to Y/N, and then leaning in to get a taste of them together, moaning into her mouth and suckling at her lips like a starved man.

As if she can read his mind, Y/N starts nibbling at his skin, laving her tongue over the drops of sweat that trickle down his neck. Then she pulls back just enough to wilt against his mouth, lips barely responsive but Harry kisses her with all he’s got. And she’s close again, when her heavy hand trails down to start rubbing at her swollen, cum-drenched clit much daintier than Harry had.

“F-feels so good,” she whines against his mouth, happy to let Harry lick against her tongue, “love you.”

Harry whimpers, “G-god, I love you too. So much, you’re so good, I love you.” Y/N rubs harder, pussy tightening—and Harry fucks harder as they both rest their foreheads on eachother’s shoulders. With her other hand, Y/N holds his bicep, squeezing and scratching as much as she pleases. She barely covers the muscle and Harry can’t help but smile as his orgasm rushes closer.

It’s when she whispers, words garbled and strained, that Harry tips over the edge. “F-fuck me so good, s-so good. G’na make me pregnant—‘n’ full of you.” And it’s his warm spurts that have Y/N cumming as well, pulsating around Harry as she milks him dry. He cums a lot, and the more he does, the longer Y/N’s orgasm lasts—they melt against one another in a mess of moans and gentle rutting, sweaty skin sticking them together. 

Y/N peels her hand from Harry’s arm, seeing the crescent moons she’s left behind and looking up at him guiltily. He smiles, pushing her hair away from her face and leaning down to kiss her nose.

“Felt good,” he promises. “Now I know how much you like them, you can do whatever you want.”

Y/N whines, biting his shoulder playfully. “Shower now, please. We’re gross.”

Harry hums, staying tucked inside and holding her tight to him as he stands on nearly wobbly legs. “Just so you know, if we shower together, I will be naked. Will you be able to contain yourself at the sight of my big, sexy arms?”

She sinks her fingers into the hair on the back of his head and tugs. “Shut up. They’re not even that big.”

“Okay, my love. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #dom!harry #domrry #daddy!harry #harry styles x reader #writing

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

New dad Astarion who is about to see his newborn child for the first time.

Of course, he expects his child to be the personification of serene beauty and divine grace. Them to have their father’s silken silvern locks, his immaculately chiselled features—the artwork perfected by Tav’s wonderful watercolour eyes…

And then he actually sees the child and—well—everybody assures him that, yes, Astarion, all babies look like that barely a half hour after birth…

He kind of has to take that at face value because he hasn’t seen an awful lot of newborns in his lifetime.

But it would’ve been nice if someone had told him that newborns happen to look like shrivelled potatoes, because he’s really, really trying to not let his bewilderment show. 

Astarion swallows. 

Tav’s beautiful eyes are watching him, waiting for a reaction—an enthusiastic one, no less. 

Maybe Tav will believe that he’s overcome with emotions at seeing his firstborn child? 

“Oh my, darling, I’m…speechless,” is all he can choke out, though, being rather proud that it’s at least not a lie. 

To his luck, Tav only nods dreamily, her full attention back on the odd little bundle in her arms.

“Isn’t she perfect?”

Yes, perfectly hideous. 

Astarion only hums in a way of reply.

That—his daughter, he supposes—is with no doubt one of the ugliest things he’s ever seen, but he has a feeling that his honesty wouldn’t be appreciated after Tav laboured for hours to give birth to this…potato-baby.

“Come, hold her, Astarion,” Tav says, then, bidding him to sit next to her on the bed.

The mattress shifts under Astarion’s weight and he obediently holds his arms out so that Tav can gently place the sleeping child against his chest.

Now that Astarion can take a better look, he can confirm that his daughter’s hair is of an indefinable colour and that her features are neither his nor Tav’s, plain as can be. Surely it won’t stay like that?

He and Tav are so ridiculously beautiful, their child can only be drop-dead gorgeous, right?

Astarion’s stomach drops indeed when, suddenly, something occurs to him. 

Oh dear, what if it’s his fault? He has no recollection of his family whatsoever; it’s very much possible that he and his immaculate looks are the exception in his lineage, and that he’s passed on only those mysterious less-than-perfect genes…Tav, as per usual, can’t be the issue!

Astarion is still catastrophizing when the bundle in his arms begins to stir.

All of a sudden, gold-speckled pale green eyes are looking up at him as if to ask what the fuck this weirdo’s problem might be. 

“Oh,” the weirdo in question exclaims at once. “Darling, look, she has your eyes!”

Tav, hugging him from behind, rests her chin on his shoulder, so she can watch as Astarion’s finger tenderly strokes their baby’s chubby cheek.

Their daughter also has, as it turns out, ten fingers and toes, a cute little nose and a hungry mouth—everything that’s supposed to be there is there, and it seems to be working fine, too—which is a huge relief. 

And aren’t those the tiniest pointy ears Astarion has ever seen? Let alone the unexpectedly strong fingers grasping at his!

Astarion, worries forgotten in a heartbeat, can’t help but smile at the baby in his arms. 

She is perfect, after all. 

Tav, face hidden in the crook of his neck, begins to tremble against his back. 

For a second, Astarion thinks she’s crying but then her laughter fills the chamber. It takes her a good moment to articulate whatever it is she finds so very funny.

“She'll grow out of it, you know?” Tav giggles in between her fits of laughter. 

Astarion stiffens. “Of what?”

“The turnip look. That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole time, haven't you?”

“I was leaning more towards potatoes—but yes, I might’ve been a little worried about that,” Astarion admits sheepishly, although a grin is already tugging at his lips.  

Regaining her composure, Tav reaches over Astarion’s shoulder, her hand joining his as they get to know their child.

“Give it a couple of days and she will look like your proper little elf—beautiful just like her father.”

A content sigh leaves Astarion’s lips, right before he presses them against Tav’s temple.

“That’s the second best news I’ve heard today, my heart, truly.”

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dadstarion #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #astarion x f!tav #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #to the best worst dad #astarion father of the year every year #Inspired by Howl from Howl's Moving Castle or rather Castle in the Air #where his first words upon seeing his newborn son are “My word he's ugly!”—truly an inspirational man! #my grandma said for legal reasons i'm not allowed to call any babies ugly so these are astarion's words not mine #just so we're on the same page #emicha writes

[themostdivinething]

when hozier said "the only heaven i'll be sent to is when i'm alone with you" and when halsey said "i know i've only felt religion when i've lied with you" and when sappho said "in the crooks of your body i find my religion" and then when rf kuang said "she's the only divine thing he ever believed in"

#i am in pain #im sorry #still not over them #hozier #andrew hozier byrne #halsey #sappho #rf kuang #the poppy war #thedrowningfaith #GUYS IM IN PAIN #rinezha #tpw

[hiraya-rawr]

little star — diluc 。

synopsis!! everyone knows the creator doesn't favor diluc (everyone is wrong).

cw !! gn reader, reader is peak diluc simp 😐 somewhat self-aware characters, mild sagau themes (not too much), reader is recognized as the player, reader is a little shy at first. angst with reverse comfort!

note !! the plot feels a little everywhere but i tried to organize it as best as i can, i think i got carried away eheh honestly doesn't feel up to my standards but it was pretty enjoyable to write

word count !! 2.8k something

"No, it's definitely Outrider Amber, she was the first to ever be favored."

"Are you kidding me? Outrider Amber may be the first, but sir Kaeya was definitely loved. Have you seen the sword he was gifted with?" One growls.

"It's the Acting Grand Master Jean!" Someone slams the table with his beer mug, "Twice was she bestowed with fallen stars of gold."

"I'd say that wolf boy in the woods seem lucky."

"It has to be Bennett. I don't know why but that kid has two crowns! Two!"

"You're all missing out on Miss Lisa!"

"Stop, stop! You rowdy drunks! Every vision holder in Mond has been granted favor, this is just impossible to decide!"

There was a pause. "Well. . . not every." Someone mumbles under their breath.

"Not every? Who's the poor allogene that couldn't even get the Player's favo—" Shushing sounds break his sentence, the men glare at their companion, pointing to the redhead behind the bar.

It's useless, really.

Diluc has been listening in the entire time. He can't really help it when their voices were loud enough to reach where he stood. Still, he was merciful and pretended not to hear. He's not exactly bothered by what they're saying. It was the truth, after all.

For two years, vision holders all around Teyvat were being granted favor.

It often begins with a meteor shower gracing the sky.

A star gently falling into the hands of a vision holder, embracing them in warm light.

They call the ethereal sensation as something akin to "coming home".

The favored would then be given different things; quality weapons, enhanced abilities, beautiful crowns— Some allogenes were even gifted summer apparel (Mondstadt is proud that their Gunnhildr sisters were one of the very first). Even their equipped wings would change into ornamented works of art!

It's been two years, and it seems like every allogene he knows of has received the Player's grace.

He supposed he just wasn't favored. It isn't too difficult to believe that he isn't likable.

He convinces himself it's fine.

It's fine if his summoned weapon is a cheap claymore made of scrap metal. It's still efficient to have the extra blade while he manually carries around another claymore (commissioned from Wagner as the best money could buy). Or that his abilities can only be improved through hardwork, unlike the many who broke the limits of their power through your favor.

It's fine.

As the bar goers leave for the night, as Venti and Kaeya wave around their almost divine-looking five-star weapons to show the crowd, and as he's closing up the tavern and retreating to his upstair quarters for comfort, he convinces himself that the he'll be okay on his own.

•

The arrival of the Creator was festive and grand; The day the sky parted itself and glowed as the brightest of all stars fell with grace into Mondstadt's very own Windrise.

Teyvat rejoices in the ecstatic ideal of being loved.

A meeting of vision holders was quickly held in the Cathedral, discussing immediate plans as some of the most favored (Venti, Jean, Kaeya, Albedo to name a few) went ahead to fetch the Creator from the large tree.

While Diluc was often the center of any other meeting due to his authority and influence, this was something he chose to step back from. Standing by the windows, away from the meeting, he watched on as Eula and the rest conversed around the circular table.

He isn't even sure why he's invited. Perhaps they felt it was obligatory for vision holders, regardless of favorability? Then again, he could always offer a fraction of his mountain-loads of wealth to help with the festivities.

At least he's competent at being a wallet.

As the others pull out their crowns and stars, weapons and artifacts, eager to thank the one responsible for the gifts, an unknown emotion bubbles in his stomach. It's faint, but it's there.

He tries to look away.

"Everyone, everyone! They're entering the gates!" Fischl announces uncharacteristically to the room as her eye glows brightly, undoubtedly looking through Oz's eyes from the sky.

"We should wait by the statue to welcome them, right?" Barbara chirps in, hands clasped and wavy hair bouncing with every step.

Diluc watches as people steadily leave the room, following last as they walk down the steps to greet the approaching group. Some civilians gathered to see the scene, others didn't really understand what a Player or Creator was to a vision holder, while Diluc—

Diluc stood by the steps to see them crowd around you.

You, surrounded with words of gratitude and cheerful squeals. He sees the smile on your face and feels relief that you don't seem too overwhelmed.

He leaves the area without a second thought.

•

He doesn't exactly see you around the next few days. With Mondstadt celebrating a new festival, the taverns were always full and busy with customers (both local and foreign). You were probably busy too, spending time with the different allogenes and entertaining those who came from Liyue to meet you. He's heard of a funeral consultant with three crowns (are consultants that admirable of a job to you?) and an adeptus gifted with various five-star polearms (this was understandable for the adepti, unlike the consultant).

He doesn't expect to see you at all until you leave for the next nation, honestly.

That is, until the tavern settles into a more peaceful atmosphere and Jean rushes in with several other allogenes. It's unusual to see his childhood friend in the tavern; still, he greets her amicably and asks what brings her here.

"(Name) will be coming here soon with Kaeya and a few others. It's a little impromptu, but we were hoping for a place to settle in with drinks. Perhaps try some apple cider." She smiles, taking a seat by the bar.

(Name)? Jean was already on a first name basis with the Creator?

Diluc thinks perhaps Jean truly is the favorite, she does have a few golden stars in her home.

Somehow, it's not surprising at all to know that his apple cider was famous enough to drag you in. At least there's something about the Dawn Winery in your favor. He promptly gets his employees to work, clearing a few tables near the bar, rearranging the furniture to give space good enough for a group.

Your entrance into the bar was just as lively; with your favored allogenes chatting away with you, everyone falling into place at different parts of the tavern, ordering drinks and meals.

He's glad you enjoy apple cider.

•

You're trying to play it cool, really. Trying your best not to get overexcited and glomp everyone and everything.

You're taking things step by step as you converse with Jean, Lisa, and Albedo; as you share meals with Barbara and Sucrose; as you play with Klee and Diona; tour the city with Fischl and Bennett. There's plenty of time to meet everyone and your schedule has been filled to the brim with all the fun your having.

You'll see that glimpse of red hair again— one that was lingering by the Cathedral staircase. Diluc doesn't like crowds, so it's fine that he isn't approaching you. It's also fine that he hasn't visited at least once, unlike the several raging from Liyue to Sumeru who took the journey to meet you early.

Diluc is too busy a person to meet you; whether it's because of the winery or his darknight hero duties, you wouldn't dare take his time.

— but when are you supposed to give him all the gifts you've brought for him???

Your determination to build him up in one go, from Talent levels to Constellations to Artifacts and Weaponry, all came down to this moment — and the man was simply nowhere to be seen!

An unknowingly loud sigh escapes your lips, catching the attention of the Cavalry Captain next to you.

"Now, what's got our (Name) so down in the dumps?" Kaeya hums, glancing at your face as you stutter a response.

"Aah it's not that, it's just. . ."

Your brother is too busy, I just want to meet him!!

"I'm thirsty." You deflect, looking around for a stall. The streets of Mond were nothing like the minimized version you see in the game; with the city being ten times larger than what you remembered it to be.

"Oh! Oh! Klee suggests apple cider!" The little girl giggles, running around your legs in excitement, "Angel's Share is nearby and big brother Albedo alwaaays takes me there for apple cider!"

Angel's Share. Bartender. A great idea has appeared!

At the excited look on your face, Jean walks up ahead of you.

"Why don't I go and inform the tavern to prepare us a space first, it would save us the waiting time."

"That would be great, Jean!"

•

You hope you aren't being too obvious.

With the way your eyes would linger on him, casting side glances and hoping he would greet you to strike up a conversation, the way most allogenes do. You didn't want to abruptly disturb his work, nor do you want seem desperate, so you waited for his initiative.

Yet, Diluc lingers just a little outside your group's circle. Your food and drinks were refilled by Charles, you've talked with nearly everyone but the person you want to talk to.

"It's getting pretty late, we should head home for the night." Someone suggests.

What?

No!

"Hm? Do you still have something in mind?" Kaeya asks. You realized you said it out loud, catching the attention of nearby patrons.

With a frantic glance around the tavern, your eyes make contact with Diluc's. He pauses as well, wondering what caused your little outburst.

You are definitely not leaving, not when you don't know when you could catch Diluc in his free time again! You'd be leaving for Liyue by then!

Hands slamming the table to stand up and with a small burst of courage, you approach the bartender who turns away from Charles. He raises an eyebrow at your approach. It's odd the way you feel flustered and nervous, finally facing him.

Pausing just in front of him, he looks on curiously.

"Would you like a refill?" He asks.

"A-ah no, I mean, yes but that's not why I'm here. I. . ." You stutter, stumbling over your words as you try not to behave awkwardly. Should you start with a casual topic?

"You seem to be quite busy." You say.

Diluc blinks. He isn't sure what you're implying. Neither is Kaeya or Jean, who stopped to look at the exchange of words.

"I suppose. . . but as a winery, we do thrive in impromptu festivities." He replies curtly before realizing, was it rude that he never visited the Creator?

"Ah, is it my lack of visit? I apologize, I would have visited but it seems that you were quite satisfied with your favorites and-"

"No, no, no," You wave your hand, cutting him off, "I understand you're busy. You don't have to visit at all! How could I take your time— wait," You pause, recalling his words.

"Favorites?" You tilt your head, "What do you mean I seemed satisfied with my favorites? What do you mean by favorites?"

"Your favorites... allogenes who received your favor. Those you have granted gifts."

Your jaw laxes. Favorites? They decided you play favorites based on how much you've built them?

"You think. . ." You say carefully, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, "That I offer gifts to my favorites?"

Diluc nods slowly, unsure of your questioning.

Although it would be a lie to say you didn't have your personal favorites, it would still be inaccurate that it's based on gifts. After all, you built everyone who came home by chance. As an avid player, you did your best to farm and push everyone to their full potential.

Diluc, however, never came home no matter how much you wanted him to. It can't be possible that he doesn't know how much he is loved, right?

"Then what about you?" You blurt out, "How do you think I view you?"

He stares at you oddly. At this point, many around you had stopped to tune in. Everyone knew Master Diluc never received your favor, so why are you conversing with him?

Meanwhile, Diluc wonders if you want him to admit it. Must he say it in front of everyone how he never received gifts?

"I suppose. . . I'm not one of them. It's quite understandable. I don't intend to question your judgement—"

"What?" You exclaim, a look of shock crosses your face, "You think I don't like you?" Voice raised in disbelief, you feel the eyes of many turning to watch the scene.

Diluc mirrors your confusion.

"I can't believe you would– no, that isn't it at all!" You stutter over your words, a frantic need to prove him wrong goes through you, "You— you of all people!"

"Me?" He repeats.

"I've always wanted you!"

A silence settles over the tavern. Did you have to put it so bluntly? You freeze in shock at your own words. Diluc's expression of disbelief turns flustered, face turning as red as his hair.

Explain yourself.

"I- I mean, I've always wanted you to come home. Ever since the start, really! It's just that you never did-"

"Hmm... so it implies that it's out of your control, correct?" Kaeya piqued, looking on curiously. He's been listening in the entire time. You nod your head.

"Yes! It's a game of chance for me as well. It's not to say that favor is an accident, I truly wanted everyone to come home! It's just that—" You turn to Diluc, "You never did, no matter how much I wanted you to. How was I supposed to give you your gifts?"

Diluc snaps out of his shock, blinking at you, "Gifts?"

"Yes, gifts! I've been saving them up for you, ever since the start." You pause, shyly looking away, "When I said I wanted you since the beginning I meant it. I came here for you, after all."

He looks at you in disbelief, and probably half the tavern as well. You can't help the small chuckle from your lips. With an outstretched hand, something materializes between you. It glows a blinding golden light, before settling to reveal–

"Wolf's Gravestone. It's a weapon for you."

You didn't have to say it— anyone with eyes could see how it was practically made for Diluc. With large handles and a color scheme that matches his own, Wolf's gravestone doesn't look as divine or ethereal as the other weapons you've gifted, but it looked just as powerful, if not menacing.

With a gesture, Diluc grips the handle.

"Fits like a glove." Kaeya whistles, impressed. As does the rest of the tavern who stopped to stare.

Suddenly, flames burst forth from the weapon. It sears and glows red. Unlike the common claymore that can't handle the the prowess of Diluc's flames, Wolf's Gravestone embraces it. Like an extension of his own hand.

He breaks his gaze away from the weapon to look at you.

"Thank you. . ." He mutters softly, but it's genuine. You smile.

"That's not the last of it, you know."

"What?"

With another flick of your hand, artifacts and talent books materialize. They flow around him like a dance as more and more begin to appear, lighting up the tavern like the night sky.

"I told you I brought gifts!"

All the days spent farming for him and other pyro characters finally paid off. The glimmering artifacts reflected in his own red eyes as he stares, entranced.

Favor did not come to him in meteor showers like it did to the other allogenes; rather, it came to him in your form. Proof of him being loved. The spectacle continued— after the artifacts and talent levels were the constellation (the crowd ooh'ed and aah'ed at the sight), then came the five star apparel (a nostalgic sight to him, and it changed his flames to a darker red), and the ascension materials you passed off as trinkets.

By the end of it, he had a hand over his lower face, his red bangs hid just the ends of his eyes. "I just thought I wasn't that favorable. . ." He muttered and you leaned in to peek at his covered face, wondering why he was shying away.

But it was evident to the tavern— the pink dusted ears, the flushed cheeks, and the overwhelming emotion in his eyes. Diluc Ragnvindr was flustered, and it's a sight enough to make even the drunks place down their beers for a closer look.

You bit your lip, trying to prevent the widest of smiles, "Do you believe yourself loved now?" You ask and he gives the faintest of nods.

"Thank you," He says, "For favoring me."

m.list 2 || consider supporting me on ko-fi ! || sagau m.list

note !! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE a very short brainrot that became a fic huhuhuhu

I don't often write creator sagau themes but here we are! this is like peak diluc simpery idk ive never been this down for a man. i wrote this immediately after getting his skin i just got so excited 😅 I wanted to spoil him so bad (but i gave all his mats to thoma before he came home :< )

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @shizunxie

#genshin #diluc #genshin diluc #creator au #diluc x reader #genshin impact #genshin diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr #ragbros #diluc fluff #sagau #diluc sagau #sagau diluc #creator reader #genshin isekai #kaeya #mondstadt #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #sagau x reader #genshin creator reader

[bedoballoons]

I’m back

I’m not sure if you write wlw or nblw/gnlw or anything like that but hear me out

anyway I was thinking, imagine the (fem! Or gn!) mechanic reader (yes my genshin self insert is a mechanic and I’m delulu) with lyney or Furina, or any other characters you wanna add if you want (idk how this works). Where the characters keep breaking things on purpose just so that the reader can come over and fix it and so they get to see reader. The reader catches on and teases the character. (You can make it lead to nfsw or not if you want ;) )

also I’ll give myself an emoji so here’s mine

-💫

I do any forms of relationships as long as they aren't incest or pedophilia! I absolutely love this idea!! I think it's super cute so I hope you don't mind but I decided to make it fluffy!! Enjoy and thank you for requesting <3

P.s Can I call you the starstruck anon?

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Just one more thing before you go~༺}

CW: Super sweet fluff! Reader works as a mechanic and the characters keep calling them up to fix things so they can spend time with them!

(Includes: Lyney, Navia, and Furina!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney kneeled down beside you, trying his best not to get in your way as you worked on the latest broken thing in his home...he just couldn't help it. Whenever he was near you it was like his heart decided to do its own performance, beating faster and skipping whenever your eyes landed on him...because of this sometimes the simple machinery he used in his home...would mysteriously end up not working, "So how goes the fixing hmm? My apologies for having to call you out here again, usually I'd just have Freminet take a look but he's currently busy"

"Seems to me like someone's intentionally sabotaging your heater...they even left the screwdriver inside of it." You turned to him with a sly smirk playing on your features, holding the screwdriver up to him so he could read Freminets name from it. The blush that followed was so adorable you couldn't help but tease him a little, "If you wanted me to spend time with you Lyney, you could have just asked~"

𑁍༄Navia:

"I truly cannot thank you enough for coming to my rescue again. It seems every time you leave the Spina di Rosula has yet another problem to fix...of course it's not particularly a bad thing because I enjoy your company immensely." The beautiful blonde chuckled nervously, trying to get ahold of herself before she ended up confessing her feelings to you, she was honestly shocked she hadn't yet..

"I'm always here whenever you need me Navia, it's definitely not a bad thing for me. I get to hang out with a goregous woman and get VIP treatment from the Spina."

"You're always welcome to anything here at-...I'm sorry did you just call me goregous?"

"Well...I figured since you're always bringing me here to fix things you've clearly sabotaged, it's only fair a make a little advancement myself.~"

The poor girl's face heated up, you'd figured it out? How long had you known?! "I- oh my..."

𑁍༄Furina:

"I truthfully have no idea how anyone expects a archon to live under such conditions, every time I go to use something it's no longer working. If I didn't have you'd I'd surely have left this place for something better by now." Furina talked away while you worked, trying to act as normally abnormal as ever...even though inside her emotions were on a rampage. If only you knew she wanted so desperately to play the part of your lover more than any other role, she'd even sabotaged her own residence so she could see you more often.

"I actually believe I've found a solution to keep things from breaking...if the archon so wished to hear it."

She went dead silent, unable to fathom how you could possibly stop anything in her house from breaking, "The archon wishes to, even someone with my divinity can't even think how a simple human could make something no longer able to break, I'd love to see what maniac idea you've come up with."

"Its actually very easy, all I have to do is ask if you'd like to go out sometime. Then we could spend time together without you needing to break things~"

"I-i what on earth are you talking about? I wouldn't break something just to spend time with someone, I am a archon with a busy life. I don't have the time for such nons-"

"Lady Furina..."

"Yes?"

"You left your glove in the pipe."

"..."

"May I take you out on a date?"

"...yes you may..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #lyney x reader #lyney headcanons #lyney fluff #lyney x you #furina x reader #furina x you #furina #furina headcanons #furina fluff #naviafluff #naviaheadcanons #navia x you #navia x reader #genshin navia #navia fluff

[madkiska]

watching the entirety of jrwi: riptide again. here's some important things from the first few episodes that I feel we forgot (<110 mentions too though)

Jay

Had night terrors similar to those of Kubakinta's curse in episode 5, and they eventually start returning even after Loffinlot's curse is lifted ○ All of them were about her family and/or the navy ○ I simply think people leave her out of the nightmare stuff and she deserves it. Hurt her more, please (he said, lovingly)

was actually very upset at having to use her medal to get a Loffinlot rebellion to shut up ○ This could be because she didn't want them to guess she was a spy, but I choose to believe it's because she felt guilty

"If you're gonna be sailing with someone, you should have a good relationship with them. [nervous chuckle]." She says, while asking him for information about the Black Rose Pirates (ep. 10)

Said "thank god they didn't find me" after a nightmare about the navy attacking. Even when she was supposedly a spy, who one day would have to return to the navy ○ Very unclear if she was scared of her dad, or if it's because she was a secret spy so the navy would've just killed her

Rewatching, she was suspiciously into the plundering and gold and stuff. Like that was real sus. It doesn't fit her current character much

The only one among them who's gambled before

Chip

The entire thing literally starts off with Bizly holding a lit match

Called Gillion "Gill" and Jay "Sureshot" from an early stage

Was SO much more of a bastard. Lied to Gill constantly, didn't care about anything but the money, etc.

Had aggressive hand tremors alongside Jay's night terrors ○ Gill cures it with lay on hands

When he gets drunk married, they talk extensively about how he'd be released when he's dead. Welp.

They did actually break up and it was fine and they were still friends. They parted on good terms

Is really fucking good at chess ○ Beat Earl twice and Jay once. Jay had a point of exhaustion after a nightmare but Earl had no excuse ○ Lost to Gillion though, but only cause of prophetic screwup ○ This kid is smarter than he lets on, y'all

Was the first one to have a backstory dump while Jay is asking him about the Black Rose Pirates, yet still we know jack shit about his life before them other than "orphan"

Gill

Charlie has referred to Gillion with 'they' many times. I can pull receipts.

When describing Gill, Charlie said: "He's more.. elven, if you had to make a comparison. 'Cause I don't wanna be a fish guy". Oh, honey.

Smote a bald person by using his hair as a whip (ep. 4)

Was given anxiety and self-doubt alongside jay's night terrors and chip's tremors ○ "What do you want?" "I want the feeling of satisfaction I've been chasing my whole life." ○ This was episode FIVE.

First mention of the prophecy and how Gillion wasn't their ideal student is ep. 7, after he divine smites + prophetic screwups and deals like 60 damage to some beetles ○ Chip spends the next 30 seconds in gay awe

He refers to the crescent moon Niklaus tattoo as "my zodiac" (probably a bit) ○ It's not a lil basic white girl moon this thing is the entire size of his forearm

Gill had never heard about the Black Sea - it's unclear if the Undersea just don't know, or if that's just how sheltered he was (ep. 10)

Biz: "What would Gillion do. If he just had no goal - was just sitting there." "Gillion always has a goal." "Would his goal ever be to just.. Sit there?" "Absolutely not." ○ Later, Chip expresses that he doesn't know what Gillion likes. What he would want out of winning a bet. Gillion doesn't have an answer

Other

Apple, in a couple of early battles, acted like Gill's familiar (see: ep. 7)

They also pecked at his Niklaus tramp stamp and looked all confused at the idea of eating seeds

The specific crescent of the moon in the Niklaus tattoo is known as a symbol of "corruption" (ep. 9) and its antonym is the sun, for "life", similar to the yin and yang ○ Interesting to consider after what the tree said in 110 <_<

Pretzel has a masters degree in couple's therapy (ep. 10)

The Albatross/Millennium Chipper was described as the colour of rosewood or mahogany

Captain Lizzie's first introduction was a wanted poster, and Chip wanted to turn her in for the prize, then decided to try learn from her instead

Chip/Bizly called Old Man Earl "Erol" for a loooong time ○ Maybe it's an accent thing but I have an uncle called Erol and so this stands out to me

#I have lots of thoughts about all of this #jay also got her gun in like ep 1 but didnt use it for ages #idk. it's unclear with the combat in the beginning. she just says “shoot”. i love her anyway #jay the kinda girl to have a “no boys” sign up but then when she meets chip and gill she changes it to “son boy” like that one meme #theyre all my favourite character #not art #jrwi riptide #jrwi show #jrwi jay #jrwi chip #jrwi gillion #jay ferin #chip bastard #gillion tidestrider #jrwi #just roll with it #just roll with it show #just roll with it riptide

[whyamiheretm]

- She’s the only divine thing he’s ever believed in. The only creature in this vast, cruel land who could kill him. And sometimes, in his loveliest dreams, he imagines she does.

this was supposed to be posted here on valentine’s day but i forgot to happy late valentine’s day from your favorite doomed lovers

closeups under the cut 💋

#the poppy war #the dragon republic #the burning god #rinezha #fang runin #yin nezha #the drowning faith #rinezha fanart #tpw trilogy #tpw fanart #rf kuang #rebecca kuang #rebecca f kuang #babel rf kuang #babel an arcane history #babel #book fanart #book art #fanart

[fastcardotmp3]

Steve is the first person Robin ever comes out to.

And it's good, it goes better than she ever could have hoped, it goes miraculously well considering just how reckless she had been about it in hindsight, how nearly accidental and vaguely self-destructive a choice it had been to wield Tammy Thompson's name like that in front of a boy she'd learned to trust within the past six hours.

The thing is, it's good, but she realizes later on that she never actually says the word. The big one, the identifying one, the one that gets thrown around as a slur as often as queer or dyke do towards any girl who dares not present in a specifically feminine way.

It's a bad word, a scary word, a word that drips off tongues like acid and drips drips drips a corrosive hole in Robin's chest every single time because if it's being said in her vicinity that means-- just at any moment-- anyone could figure out--

Robin doesn't care for the act of coming out either in theory or in practice. She believes that anyone she trusts enough to know gets to learn from context clues and anyone she doesn't trust will just never get to know her fully and that's good enough for her.

She doesn't sit her parents down and say, "Mom. Dad. I'm a--"

She doesn't sit her little apocalypse posse down and say, "Just thought you guys should know I'm a--"

She didn't tell Steve.

She doesn't say the word.

Because as much as she's able to accept who she is, it's so hard to claim a word that has been used like a weapon her whole life. Because as much as even her parents and her friends love her for who she is, there is something about saying it like that that makes her wonder if it could sully the support.

As if they'd realize oh, you meant like that...? and change their minds.

It's not until IUPUI, a little house in Indy with Steve, and a little record shop next door to the deli where Eddie got a job slicing meat that she starts seeing that word, feeling it anew.

There are zines at this shop, the ones behind the counter that she's offered after a few visits and a few conversations that she later recognizes as coded and questioning in nature.

There are stories and art and poetry and that word is all over them.

And the thing is? The thing that has Steve finding her crying in their living room one afternoon as she reads through the stack like it holds the answers to the universe?

Is that it is written and spoken and displayed like the most beautiful word in the world.

It's a compliment and a blessing and a brag. It's a little bit of magic and a great deal of history.

It's her, in the end. It's her and it belongs in her mouth, deserves to be spoken, because too many people are out there misusing it like a disgusting thing when it is divine, fucking love incarnate.

Robin tucks into Steve's embrace, his instinct to hold her even as he tries to understand what has her sobbing in the middle of the day, whether or not he needs to fight anyone about it.

He holds her and she holds him back and it only feels right that it happen like this when she takes his face in her hands, shaky but oh, so certain.

Steve was the first person she ever came out to.

If she's going to let the scary word become her favorite the way it is for the people writing it out so proudly, this is probably the place to start.

"Steve Harrington," she beams at the furrow in his brow, those big concerned eyes that she knows will be confused about this, but she knows will only hold her tighter once she explains. "Steve. Stevie. Guess what?"

"What's up?" he laughs, gathering the joy in her tears like she knew he would, and Robin feels something click in the moment before she says it to him.

Out loud and real.

Very nearly holy.

"I'm a fucking lesbian."

#dot post #steve: i know this and i love you #stobin #platonic stobin #robin buckley #steve harrington #butch!robin #not entirely relevant but it's important to me you know the truth #dot fic #i know robin is always the sort of most stable in her identity in fic but she's a KID #she deserves to have big feelings about the whole thing just like the rest of them

[reysdriver]

From The Rooftops | J.P.

James has been confessing his love for you forever, but this is the biggest attempt at wooing you yet — james x fem!reader fluff

warnings: heights ig cus james is an idiot on a roof

words: 0.8k

You were walking outside, near Hagrid's hut with Marlene McKinnon when you saw a commotion near the school. Both of you were curious as to what was going on that was so enticing to all these students. You both tried to walk a little faster so you could see what was happening as soon as possible. 

When you got there, you just wanted to roll back down the hill. It was James Potter standing on the roof of the Divination tower that had everyone so excited. 

"Oh Merlin, that's really him." You said with an exhausted sigh. 

You knew exactly what he was doing. He had been trying these elaborate acts to get your attention for what feels like a million years. It had begun small, but it's only gotten more extravagant as time went on. 

You watched with a blank face as he tossed handfuls of flower petals down to you and all the other students enamoured by his bizarre version of courtship. 

"Wonder what he's up there for." Marlene said sarcastically. No one in the school was a stranger to James' dramatics. 

James seemed to have spotted you in the crowd of kids. "There she is! The love of my life, the beautiful (y/n)!" 

"Get down from there, Potter!" You shouted back. "You know this is a terrible idea."

"On the contrary, my darling! I have so much love for you that I decided I need to shout it from the rooftops!" 

Off to the side, you noticed Remus, Sirius, and Peter snickering together at their friend's idiocracy. You shot them a glare, and walked over to smack each one of them on the arm. "Why don't you talk him out of these things?" You hissed, then looked back up at James. 

"Oh, believe you me, (y/l/n), we talk him out of the craziest ideas he has." Sirius told you. 

"This isn't one of the crazy ideas?!"

"Not even close."

You rolled your eyes, not even wanting to think about all the ridiculous things that lovesick fool has proposed to get your attention. 

James tossed down another handful of petals, reciting a list of reasons why the two of you should date. You snatched a red rose petal out of the air before it could reach the ground and held it up to show him. 

"Look, James, I caught one of your flower petals. It's great, now come on down." 

He shook his head. "Not until I know what awaits me down there." 

Another sigh escaped your lips. He was absolutely maddening, and the worst part is that you were almost certain he was actually wearing you down. 

"Would you come down if she agreed to date you?" Marlene shouted, earning another glare from you. 

James' face lit up at the proposition. "Absolutely I would! Do you agree to those terms, my love?"

"Definitely not." You answered. "What else would you want?" 

As you spoke, you reflexively caught another petal and wanted to scoff at yourself for going along and giving him what he wanted. 

"I'll take anything you'll give me. I did like Marlene's idea, but perhaps a kiss is more your style?"

You looked back at Marlene, hoping she could suggest something. She just shrugged and shot you a smug smile. 

"I'll kiss you on the cheek." You suggested to him. 

He didn't seem satisfied. "And?" 

You rolled your eyes. "And I'll let you sit next to me in all our classes for a week. Those two things in return for you getting down safely and stopping these dramatic spectacles."

He seemed happy with that. He tossed down the remaining pile of flowers, which the crowd around you loved. Then, he picked up his broomstick from behind him and flew down, landing right next to you. He carelessly dropped the broomstick and faced you, looking excited as ever.

"Now you have to live up to your end of the deal." He said with a grin. He puckered his lips and leaned down a bit. 

You placed your hand on the top of his head, his signature curls filling the gaps between your fingers, and you turned his head to the side. "I said 'on the cheek'." 

You did just as you had promised, and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him. You let your lips linger for a bit too long for someone who wasn't at all interested. Judging by his cocky smile, he noticed it as well. 

"You're a piece of work." You told him, fighting back an expression to match his. 

"You love me, and you know it."

You were getting to a point where he was right, but he didn't need to know that. 

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #marauders era #marauders fluff