Latest Posts by sirxaibs - Page 4
joost and appie in japan :-)
A Not-So-Disastrous Romance
Saiki Kusuo x Non-Binary! Reader
Book 1
Follows the events of Season One
Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"
Chapter One: Girl Problems and Beach Woes
Chapter Two: Ghosts and Guardians
Chapter Three: Sports Festival
Chapter Four: Safety Drills and Clairvoyants
Chapter Five: Ramen Shops
Chapter Six: Christmas Eve
Chapter Seven: New Year's Day
Chapter Eight: Valentine’s Day Chaos and Movie Night Misunderstandings
Chapter Nine: Mothers and Meetups
Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa
Chapter Eleven: Accidents and Reveals
Chapter Twelve: Insecurities and Sweets
Chapter Thirteen: Punk Transfer
Chapter Fourteen: Festival Display
Chapter Fifteen: Festival Problems
Chapter Sixteen: Taking Teruhashi Out (on a Not-Date)
Chapter Seventeen: Delinquent Run-In and Teruhashi’s Home-Visit
Chapter Eighteen: Karaoke Party
Chapter Nineteen: Toritsuka’s Possessions and Club
Chapter Twenty: Crepes and Breaks
Chapter Twenty-One: Adventures in London
Chapter Twenty-Two: Summer Break Days
Chapter Twenty-Three: Rich Transfer Trouble
Chapter Twenty-Four: Celebrations
Book 2:
Follows the Events of Season Two
Prologue: Relationships
Chapter One: Cafes and Clothes
Chapter Two: Saiko's Mansion
To be continued...
Specials:
Pride Specials: 2024
Taglist:
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@characterreaderwriter
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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞
summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.
pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.
tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.
note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.
“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”
You blink.
“Get the fuck out of my room!”
Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.
At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.
“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”
“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”
“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.
You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”
“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”
You slam his head against the wall.
Definitely the wrong thing to say.
Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.
“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”
Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”
“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”
Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.
(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)
“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”
“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”
Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”
You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”
You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”
Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”
ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)
“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.
Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)
“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.
(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)
You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”
Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.
Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”
“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.
“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.
Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”
“I know.” Harry grins.
“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”
“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.
You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”
(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)
The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.
You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.
“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”
“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”
You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”
James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.
“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.
“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”
(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)
Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”
James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”
Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.
“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”
“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.
“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”
“Oi!”
Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”
James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”
“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.
“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”
(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)
“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”
“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”
Harry wants to barf, actually.
After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.
“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.
“Away from you, Potter!”
And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”
Harry chortles.
“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”
He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.
“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”
It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.
“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.
“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”
James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”
Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”
Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?
Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”
“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.
Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”
Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”
“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.
“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.
“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.
“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”
Harry’s eye twitches.
IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”
Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.
Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”
You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”
The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”
Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”
James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”
“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.
Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”
“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.
“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.
“In your dreams!” You shrill.
You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”
Harry nods. “Is it time already?”
“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”
“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”
Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”
Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”
Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”
“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.
You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”
Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.
“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.
To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”
“One date, then.”
You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”
Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”
“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”
“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.
“And I want to—”
“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”
You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”
“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.
“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.
“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.
“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.
“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”
“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”
“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.
(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)
“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.
“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”
“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.
“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”
“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”
(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”
“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.
“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”
Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.
He falls in love.)
FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.
“Oi.”
The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”
“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”
Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”
You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”
Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”
Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.
She stiffens.
Oh.
part two
LIKE FATHER LIKE SON
James Potter x Reader
WARNINGS: just fluff, FEM!R + use of Y/n, nonVoldemort!au, dilf!James + mamasboy!Harry being protective of their wife/mom and Y/n being done with them lol, Lucius and Draco Malfoy being Lucius and Draco Malfoy.
English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.
"James Fleamont Potter, what is this?"
James looked up from his coffee cup and raised his head to look at you, seeing you waving a paper envelope in front of his eyes.
"A letter?" he asked ironically.
You nodded, placing it in front of his eyes on the table and crossing your arms.
"Uh-uh. And can you tell me who it was sent by?"
James focused his gaze on the elegant writing and logo printed on the envelope.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizard-
When he realized where it was coming from, James had to double check, not having realized the first time and almost spit the coffee on you.
"From Howgwarts?!" he exclaimed, turning sharply towards you.
You nodded.
"It's strange that they called us, they only do it when it's something serious" you murmured worriedly. "What if something happened to Harry?"
James raised his arm to untie your crossed arms and grab your hand.
"Why don't we read what it's about first, mh? Maybe we're just worrying about nothing" he asked, giving you an encouraging smile.
You slowly nodded and James opened the envelope, taking out the letter and reading it on his own first. When you noticed his expression drop, you realized that maybe it really was something serious.
"Oh crap..." he muttered.
"What? What does it say?"
You came up behind him to read the contents of the letter and felt a pang in your heart when you saw what it was about.
"Oh… Oh crap indeed"
When you and James arrived at Hogwarts, some students stared at you strangely but you ignored them and walked to the main door. As soon as you opened it, you were met by Professor McGonagall, who had an expression of concern on her face equal to yours.
"Oh, i'm glad you're here my dears" she said, advancing towards you.
"Minnie, what happened with Harry?" James asked.
"Is he okay?" you continued.
The woman alternated her gaze from you to him in silence for a couple of seconds and then let out a sigh.
"Follow me" she only said, then she turned and walked down the corridor. And the more you and James walked, the more you realized that the road you were on wasn't the one to Dumbledore's office, but the one that led to the hospital wing. You and James exchanged a worried look, but you didn't say anything.
After a few minutes you arrived at the door of the infirmary and before you could enter, Minerva turned to look at you.
"We don't usually call parents, but your presence has been explicitly requested... By Lucius Malfoy himself"
At hearing that name, James didn't help himself from making a groan and rolling his eyes, while you let out a breath through your nose. This was not good.
"Great" James said annoyed.
You placed a hand on his arm and then looked back at her.
"Professor can you tell us what happened, please?"
Minerva gave you a heartened smile. Unlike your husband who always called her by that nickname, you were always more formal towards her and she always appreciated that.
"I was told that Harry and Draco have been involved in an argument a bit… Rough" the woman said cautiously. "Well, they fought after the Quidditch match"
"What?!" you exclaimed.
"Who won?!" James said with hopeful eyes.
You and Minerva turned to look at him unimpressed. James chuckled sheepishly.
"Sorry, wrong question. Harry won, didn't he?"
Minerva ignored him, looking back at you and you rolled your eyes.
"Why is Lucius here?" you asked, crossing your arms.
The teacher let out a small sigh.
"It's nothing new that your sons don't get along, but this time Mr. Malfoy insisted on discussing this situation with the parents of the person who continues to mistreat their child"
"It's not Harry who mistreats him!" James said immediately, already feeling his soul heating up with anger. "It's that brat with gelled hair that keeps provoking him, but unlike Harry, he isn't capable of defending himself!"
"James" you called, trying to calm him down.
Minerva looked at you both with a sympathetic look. It was obvious that she also supported what James said, but as a teacher she had to try to be as neutral as possible and make both students understand that they were wrong. And then, it was better not to go against the Malfoys too much.
"If you want to go, they are waiting for you" the woman only said, indicating the door with a wave of her hand.
You glanced at James and without waiting for his permission, you threw open the door, rushing into the infirmary.
"Harry James Potter!"
Harry jumped from under the covers when he heard your voice echo throughout the hospital wing.
"Damn..." he cursed under his breath.
Hermione, who was sitting in a chair next to his bed, looked at him worriedly. Standing behind her, Ron looked between him and you, terrified.
"Uh-oh. I think your mother is angry, Harry" he muttered and Harry tried to slide under the sheets, as if to hide.
The three Gryffindors saw you advance towards them, followed by James. When you were close to the bed, Hermione stood up instinctively and both she and Ron stepped back, leaving Harry alone in your jaws.
You looked him up and down, crossing your arms and tapping your foot on the floor. Harry and James exchanged a look and as Harry tried to ask him for help with his eyes, not wanting to face your fury, James looked at him with a smirk that seemed to say "You're a goner, kid".
"Mom" he murmured. "I can explain"
"Oh, but i don't need explanations my dear, because i've already been told everything" you replied.
Harry looked down, staying silent and waiting for your next move. Until... With a sigh you leaned towards him and hugged him tightly, stroking his hair with one hand.
"I'm glad you're okay, darling" you murmured.
Harry felt taken aback, but when he looked at James and saw him smile tenderly, he realized there was nothing to worry about and returned the hug. You gave him a couple of kisses on the cheek and then you pulled away and sat next to him on the mattress, leaving the chair to Hermione.
Flick!
"Ah!"
Harry narrowed his eyes when you gave him a little flick on his forehead with your finger and James chuckled.
"That's because you got into a fight" you said in a fake stern tone, but still serious.
Harry nodded solemnly, while Ron and Hermione looked at him in relief. The worst was over.
"Harry" James then said, walking up behind you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "What happened with Malfoy?"
"Darling, we were worried when we got the letter" you continued, covering James' hand with yours. "We thought something serious had happened"
"It's all Malfoy's fault!" Ron exclaimed.
You and James turned to look at him.
"Yes, he was angry because the Slytherins lost the Quidditch match and he taunted Harry as usual" Hermione continued.
You let out a small sigh.
"That little boy will never learn, will he?" you murmured. "He's only good with words. Just like his father"
James looked back at Harry, who hadn't answered his question and had remained silent, his eyes focused on the bedsheets. He was being too silent.
"There's more, isn't there?" your husband asked, getting all of you's attention.
Harry looked at him almost shyly and made a fist with his hand. Yes, there was more, but he didn't have the courage to say it.
"Harry" you called softly and he looked at you. "You can tell us everything. You know that, right?"
Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione, who knew exactly what Harry wasn't going to say. She gave him a small smile of encouragement and he mouthed "Tell them" with his lips. Your son hesitated, but after a few seconds he took a breath and told the truth.
"Malfoy insulted you, mom"
You immediately felt James' hand tighten on your shoulder.
"Oh Harry-" you tried to say, but he continued.
"He called you a mudblood and he said you didn't deserve to be in the world and other stupid things"
You fell silent, but James had the opposite reaction as you.
"He said what?!"
You continued to look at your son, who huffed.
"I know you always tell me that Malfoy's words aren't worth listening to and you're right. But this time i couldn't resist, i'm sorry. I couldn't let him say those things about you"
You let out another small sigh, but then smiled slightly. You leaned towards him and caressed his cheek with one hand, gently running your thumb over the patch on the bridge of his nose.
"Harry, sweetheart. I appreciate you standing up for me, i really do. But i've learned not to care about what the Malfoys and those who think the same say about me, by now. And even if there's always you and dad, i can handle myself when i want too, anyway" you said, making him smile. "But i don't want you to get in trouble for my name again, okay? You need to prove that you're better than that"
When he nodded slowly, you raised the pinky of your free hand.
"Promise me" you ordered softly.
Harry intertwined his pinky with yours, murmuring a "I promise" and you gave him a small kiss on the forehead, while Hermione watched the scene tenderly.
"Well well well, here's the whole family reunited"
You all turned towards the new voice and both Harry and James clenched their fists when they saw Malfoy and Malfoy Jr behind him. James didn't say it out loud, but he was proud on the inside to see that Draco looked worse than Harry. He deserved it.
"Potter" Lucius said looking at James, raising his cane. "I hope you are willing to apologize to me for your son's unruly behavior"
James crossed his arms.
"None of us will apologize, because YOUR son only got what he deserved"
"And yet he only told the truth" Lucius continued, shifting his gaze to you and you glared at him. "And i'm not surprised that your son is raised this way, when his mother is nothing more than a filthy, unworthy mudblood. Pathetic"
James gritted his teeth and took a step towards him.
"Say that again, i dare you"
Behind them, Harry and Draco were also exchanging challenging glances.
"James" you called out to him, but he ignored you.
Lucius smirked and pointed the tip of his cane at you.
"That woman is scum. People like her should just die-"
SBAM!
Lucius was forced to stop when James punched him squarely in the nose, knocking him backwards.
"Father!" Draco exclaimed, frightened.
"James!" you yelled, standing up and running to him. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at the scene with wide eyes, but also with satisfied smiles on their lips.
"Were all the beatings i gave you at school not enough for you!? Haven't you learned your lesson yet, after all these years?!" James exclaimed angrily. "You're just as vapid as your son, you're only good at giving air to your stupid mouth!"
He took a step towards Lucius, but you grabbed onto his arm, trying to pull him back.
"James no-"
"I don't give a damn if i'll go to Azkaban for what i'm about to say, Malfoy. I solemnly swear, that if i hear you or your son insult my wife one more time, you'll be the one who's going to die. I swear it"
Lucius from the floor looked at your husband with a look of disgust, wiping the blood from his nose with his thumb and James looked back with a murderous one, breathing heavily. The tension between the two men was suddenly broken by the voice of Madame Pomfrey, who was approaching the scene.
"Does this seem to be the time and place to fight you two?!" the woman snapped with anger. "This is an infirmary and you're not students anymore! Stop acting like children and leave right now!"
James and Lucius glared at each other for the last time, until the latter hastily got up and walked briskly out of the hospital wing, followed by Draco. Some students lying on the beds who had witnessed the scene, including your son and his friends, clapped and whistled in support for James. You ran a hand over your face, embarrassed at all that attention, but they were immediately shushed by Madame Pomfrey.
"You too Potter! Visiting hours are over!" she exclaimed again, waving a hand, annoyed.
When you were sure that James had calmed down, you let go of him to move closer to Harry again.
"Sorry honey, but we have to go now. We'll see you for the holidays, okay? I love you" you said quickly, kissing his head and cheek.
"Me too, mom"
You took James' hand and dragged him towards the exit, turning to look at your son one last time.
"And remember our promise!"
Those were your last words before you closed the door behind you, entering the silence of the hallway. Then you turned to your husband and gave him a small slap on the back of the head.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, immediately covering the affected spot with his hand and turning to look at you. "What was that for?"
You crossed your arms over your chest.
"You idiot! Didn't you hear anything about the speech i gave to our son??"
A few weeks later, one evening during the Christmas holidays, the Potter family and friends were all gathered in the living room of the Potter's household.
"I can't believe it AHAHAHAH!" Sirius's thunderous laughter echoed throughout the house. "Oh, how i wish i was there to see it! Y/n, you should have owled me!"
You glared at him.
"Sure, so instead of trying to convince these two-” you said, placing your hands on the heads of your husband and son. "-that arguing with the Malfoys is a waste of time, you would've only encouraged them to continue"
"And from what i understood Harry did a great job!" Sirius continued, looking at Harry, who smiled sheepishly. "Well done son, i'm proud of you"
You sat on the couch between James and Harry and the former wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him.
"I think the only one here with any sense that understands my point of view by now is Rem"
The aforementioned gave you a small, uncertain smile.
"Well... If James, Sirius and Harry weren't there, nothing would stop me from punching Malfoy in the face. Be it the old or the young one"
You widened your eyes, feeling betrayed, while everyone else burst out laughing.
"Remus!"
Remus chuckled with red cheeks.
"Dollface, those fuckers deserved it" Sirius continued, taking a sip from his goblet. "And we are your best friends, so if anyone dares to mess with you we will not hesitate to defend you. Just accept it and it'll be easier for you"
You sighed in resignation, while James smiled, tilting his face to leave a couple of kisses on your head.
"That scene was amazing though! Iconic!" Ron exclaimed with a toothy grin. "I don't think i'll ever forget the face Lucius and Draco made"
"Dad was so cool" Harry said.
James looked at the two boys, puffing out his chest proudly.
"Well, i had to defend my woman" he said and you giggled, resting your head against his body.
"James, can i ask you a question?" Hermione asked suddenly.
"Ask away, darling"
"What did you mean by what you said to Lucius? When you asked him if all the beatings you gave him at school weren't enough. Had this already happened when you were our age?"
"Oh several times, unfortunately" Sirius replied before James could and then he continued drinking his wine.
"Y/n and Lily were often picked on by Slytherin pureblood students" Remus continued.
Harry turned to look at you with sad eyes, not knowing about the torment you had endured during your years at Hogwarts. You noticed this and gave him a thoughtful smile, reaching out to his hand and squeezing it, as if to say, "Don't worry about me, it's over now".
"But we were always there to protect them, right?" James then asked, lowering his head to look at you and when he saw your look he quickly added. "Even though they didn't need it and could handle themselves~"
"You must know, my dear kids" Sirius interjected again, referring to the three teenagers present "That the brave knight James here, was always ready to save his beloved princess Y/n. He didn't care what the consequences were"
Both you and James blushed, exchanging a loving look, while Harry, Hermione and Ron looked at you tenderly.
"And it's good to know that Harry would do the same for his mother" Remus said then. "Like father like son"
"Aah i love this family so much, i swear!" Sirius sighed, opening his arms wide and almost spilling the wine on the floor.
And everyone laughed.
THIS IS SO REAL OMG 😱
˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
“Bet you’re thinkin’ of me while he’s fucking you, huh?”
❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader
❧ Need To Know | This story was originally written by me on wattpad with different characters. It got deleted & I moved here.
❧ Contents | afab!reader, explicit nsfw scenes, college non-curse au, toxic altercations, angst, reader lowkey hops around between the two, jealousy, possessiveness, slut activities, gen z references, alcohol, fluff, 18+ scenes, porn w plot, etc.
| Chapters |
1 | Something about you
2 | draws me so close
3 | that it has to
4 | be true.
5 | My hearts light
| @kamiversee | ff status; ongoing | updates; spontaneous— I am on vaycay right now so they’ll be a bit slow. |
Magnum opus
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 :< )
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