#( && even if i'm not following you - i'd love to write.

[ghostedgwen]

Hey!! I really like your writing and I was just wondering if I could make a request. I was thinking about James X Black!Reader where she's Sirius' twin (or something like that), and it's a unrequired love since they're best friends. I'd really appreciate if you wrote it <3

shades of wrong | j.potter

note : Thank you so much for such kind words! The request was pretty vague so I took a lot of creative liberty with this one and ended up with almost 6k words of angst and pining. enjoyy <3

warnings : unrequitted pining, one-sided crushes, quidditch stuff, somewhat canon marauders timeline, mentions of abuse and torture, child abuse, the Black family are fucked uppp, siblings angst, hurt no comfort

James Potter has always been more than a best friend to you, he was always so bright and stirred feelings in your stomach that you dared not name but to him? You were always just Sirius' twin sister.

The platform is louder than you expected, all smoke and shouting and fluttering owls. Sirius walks just ahead of you, his trunk bumping into his knees as he barrels toward the scarlet train like it's an escape route.

"C'mon, ____!" he calls over his shoulder. "We don't want to end up stuck with the Lestranges."

You roll your eyes but follow, your own trunk rolling behind you. It feels like stepping into a storybook, the Hogwarts Express waiting there like it’s half-magic and half-dream. It is, kind of. You’ve been hearing about it your whole life.

Your older cousins were kind enough to share tales of their time at Hogwarts, but everything feels heavier now, knowing how your parents looked at you this morning. Like this was your last chance to make them proud.

You climb aboard after Sirius and just barely get through the crowd before he grabs your arm and yanks you into an open carriage.

Inside are three boys - one with messy dark hair and glasses, another round-faced and shy-looking, and a third with sandy hair - he would have been the most ordinary-looking one had it not been for his scars across his face.

They all look up at once. Sirius flops onto a seat like he owns the place. "You lot look like you’re not boring. I'm Sirius Black. This is my twin, ____."

You offer a small nod. The boy with glasses grins.

"James Potter. That’s Peter Pettigrew, and that’s Remus - he didn’t say his last name."

Potter. The name makes your ears perk up.

“It’s Lupin.” The scarred boy answered calmly.

The Potters are purebloods, technically, but your parents never speak of them without curled lips and disdain. Blood traitors and too friendly with Muggles. Too rich for their own good, thanks to some business success blahh blahh.

Still, you find yourself watching James Potter a little longer than is polite. There’s a brightness to him, even seated. He’s talking animatedly, hands moving as he retells something dramatic and probably exaggerated.

You sit beside Sirius. He elbows you subtly. "Stop staring."

You scowl, but your cheeks warm.

The Great Hall is overwhelming, and not just because of the enchanted ceiling. You stand beside Sirius, your fingers pinched in his sleeve, as the Sorting Hat sings its odd little song. He’s pretending not to care, but you can feel the tension in him.

You're both meant to go to Slytherin. It's been drilled into your heads since birth. The idea of sitting anywhere else feels almost dangerous, wrong.

Names are called. Students file forward. The hat shouts out houses. Then - "Black, Sirius!"

He stiffens beside you. You squeeze his arm before he strides forward, all swagger and sarcasm. He plops onto the stool and the hat barely touches his head before it cries:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Hall goes silent for half a breath. Sirius looks stunned, and his face contorted into an expression that you, even as his twin, couldn't read.

He storms to the Gryffindor table like it insulted him, and you know exactly what's racing through his head. You’re about to join him, though not on purpose.

"Black, ____!"

You move with shaky legs to sit on the stool. The hat is heavy on your head, almost like a crown with heavy responsibilities.

"Ah," it says in your ear, thoughtfully. "Another Black. Tricky, tricky. You’ve got fire, that’s clear. Slytherin’s a fit - but there’s something else in you, isn’t there? A spark of defiance. . . loyalty - hmm. Yes. Better be. . .GRYFFINDOR!"

Your stomach sinks. You can already hear your mother’s voice, the sneer in your father’s eyes. You join Sirius with stiff legs and sit beside him. Almost dropping your entire weight on the bench.

"We’re dead," he mutters.

"They’re going to disown us," you whisper.

Across the table, James Potter stares at you both with wide eyes. After he's gone through the sorting, ending up in the same house, he sits across you and Sirius.

Remus and Peter also got in the same house, what are the odds?

"You two looked like you were going to throw up when you sat down," he says, not unkindly. "Why’s Gryffindor so bad?"

You blink. "It’s not. It’s just. . ."

"Our family’s going to go ballistic," Sirius finishes for you.

James makes a face. "That’s mental. Gryffindor’s brilliant. My mum was one. Dad too."

You exchange a glance with Sirius. Of course. Of course the Potters were.

Still, James’s voice is warm and easy, like he doesn't understand why you'd be so scared, and maybe that's the part that sticks with you.

You don't want to be scared, either. Maybe, one day, you won’t be.

Until you earn the bold red robes, for now, you take the goblet in front of you with shaking hands and pretend it doesn’t matter but when you catch James Potter smiling at you between bites of treacle tart, it’s the first good thing that’s happened all day.

The second year begins with less dread and more mischief.

You and Sirius still get looks in the corridors, some of awe, some of judgment, but you’ve stopped caring. The Howlers your parents sent last year have long since stopped arriving. Well, they still try. 

It’s easier now. Hogwarts has become a home in ways Grimmauld Place never was. It smells like old wood and candles and the occasional pumpkin spice. People laugh here, there’s sunlight in the windows, and your twin has eased the tension in his shoulders.

You’ve found your people too.

James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew have fully adopted you and Sirius into their inner circle. They call themselves the Marauders now, Sirius came up with the name during a History of Magic class, and James nearly fell off his chair laughing.

You were of course included, Sirius even joked that you two were a package, and you were a very much needed addition.

"We need someone who’s small enough to climb through the hidden passage through Filch’s," James had reasoned.

"And smart enough to jinx the pathway shut behind us," Remus added.

You raised an eyebrow and folded your arms. "I’m flattered."

"She’s already ten times sneakier than you, Potter," Sirius had said proudly. "She lied to Mum for me last summer and didn’t blink once."

That had been the beginning.

Now, most evenings are spent plotting. In secret corners of the library. Underneath the stands at the Quidditch pitch. Crammed into your favourite empty classroom that smells like chalk and rebellion.

You’re always moving, always whispering, always laughing.

The pranks range from harmless to elaborate:

Enchanting toads to serenade Snape every time he walks into the dungeons.

Dosing the Slytherin common room door with stink sap and locking it magically shut.

Turning Peter’s homework into origami rats that chased him around the Great Hall.

You get caught, of course. Very often too that it was as if, you were letting them and for some reason, it’s always you and James who end up in the most trouble.

After one particular incident involving enchanted pudding that exploded in green clouds every time someone picked up a spoon, McGonagall personally handed you both matching detentions.

"I don’t even like pudding," you muttered as she led you down the corridor.

"But wasn’t it worth it?" James asked, his grin unapologetic. "Did you see Snivellus’s face? He looked like a swamp toad."

You tried to hold in your laugh and failed.

Detention turned out to be scrubbing trophy cases without magic. McGonagall gave you one look before leaving the two of you alone with buckets and rags.

James leaned on his mop like it was a cane. "You know, this is kind of romantic. Just you, me, and centuries of dusty cups."

You rolled your eyes. "You say that to all your detention partners?"

"Only the cute ones."

You threw your rag at him.

That became a pattern. Chaos, punishment, laughter. James Potter became your favourite person to get in trouble with.

It wasn’t just the trouble, though.

He listened when you talked, even when you didn’t realize you were saying something important. He challenged you to races on broomsticks. He defended you to older students who still scoffed at your last name. He made you laugh so hard you cried.

By the end of second year, something had shifted.

Not just in your friend group though that was true, too, but in you. Something settled in your chest like an ember waiting for a spark.

The four of you - James, Sirius, Remus, and you, had grown impossibly close. You knew how Peter fit into things, though he was quieter and less daring, often trailing after Sirius and James. But you were becoming a fixed part of the Marauders that blazed through the castle.

It happened slowly, in glances and secrets and sleepless nights.

You found out about Remus first.

Or rather, you pieced it together. The way he disappeared every month, the sick excuses, the cuts. The pale skin and darker eyes after he returned.

You and Sirius had snuck out to bring him soup from the kitchens once, and when you saw the claw marks on his arm as he slept, it all clicked.

"He’s a werewolf," you whispered to Sirius under the invisibility cloak.

Sirius didn’t argue. He just nodded, pale-faced and quiet. "We have to help him."

So you helped. The library became your haunt, not for classes, but for research. You dug through ancient transformation theories and forbidden transfiguration texts.

When Sirius brought the Animagus idea to James, he’d already practiced turning a matchstick into a bug thanks to your combined efforts.

You weren’t sure if you’d do it too. Becoming an Animagus was dangerous, but part of you wanted to, because Remus was your friend, and you weren’t going to let him feel alone.

But that plan would take time. Years. For now, you were just a group of misfits making big promises and risking detention to steal spellbooks.

Then came third year.

The Quidditch tryouts were announced a week into term, and Sirius couldn’t stop talking about it.

"We’re doing it," he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "All three of us. The Gryffindor dream team."

James beamed. "I’m going for Chaser."

"Beater," Sirius grinned. "Obviously."

They both looked at you. You raised a brow. "You want me on your team?"

"You’ve got the best reflexes out of all of us," James said easily. "You always catch my spells before they go off."

"And you’re mean when you block people," Sirius added. "Keeper suits you."

So you tried out, and you made the team.

The three of you spent the first month of the season in a blissful state of exhaustion. Practice before and after classes, bruises that turned green then gold with healing charms, and evenings spent sprawled across the Gryffindor common room floor with your limbs tangled together like dead spiders.

James was already obsessed. He lived and breathed broomsticks, muttered plays in his sleep, and spent hours drawing diagrams you barely understood.

You didn’t mind. It gave you more excuses to practice with him.

Some days, when everyone else was off doing homework or sleeping in, James would find you on the pitch, circling the hoops, challenging yourself to hold longer dives or sharper turns.

He always joined.

“Couldn’t let you get all the glory,” he joked once, landing beside you with a smile that made something flutter in your stomach.

It became a routine. You and James. Alone under grey skies or dusky sunsets. Sometimes, you raced.

Sometimes, you just tossed the Quaffle back and forth until your arms ached.

Sometimes, you talked about anything and about everything.

You learned that he hated liver, that his mum sang Muggle lullabies when he was sick, and that he wanted to play Quidditch Professionally one day.

He learned you used to steal books from your parents’ library to hide under your bed, that your biggest fear was being like your mother, and that Sirius once paid you in Chocolate Frogs to lie about him breaking your family’s expensive globe.

It was the little things, the quiet moments.

Until the day you fell - quite literally and figuratively.

It wasn’t dramatic. Your broom slipped in a sharp turn, and your hand missed the handle. One second you were in the air, the next your stomach dropped as you plummeted.

You had no time to scream. No time to think - then, arms.

James caught you mid-air, his broom wobbling under both your weights as he grunted and clutched you tight. "Got you," he breathed, eyes wide.

You stared at him, chest heaving.

His arms were around your waist. His face was inches from yours. His glasses were askew, his hair wind-tousled, and his heart was thudding against your ribs.

Your mouth went dry.

You’d seen James Potter a hundred times. In class, in the common room, in trouble, in laughter.

But now, he was something else. A blur of strength and concern and brightness that made your whole body light up. He grinned suddenly. "Falling for me already?"

You shoved him. Lightly. Weakly.

"Put me down, Potter."

"As you wish, m’lady."

He landed with a soft thud, letting you slide off his broom before hopping down beside you. Your cheeks were on fire.

You muttered something about your broom being old and faulty.

He didn’t tease you. Not like you expected. Instead, he reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear.

"You sure are handful, might need to drag you with me in the case you keep falling off brooms.."

Perhaps, that was when it started.

You’d looked at him, cheeks burning still from both the fear of falling and the catch. "You planning on getting old with me, Potter?"

He winked. "Depends. Are you inviting me?"

You had no answer for that, but the truth was, you kind of liked the idea.

By third year, your place at his side felt natural. Unshakeable.

And maybe, just maybe, that spark was starting to glow into something more.

But you weren’t ready to name it yet. Not when the trouble was so fun and the lines between friendship and something else were still blurred by laughter and daring.

Fourth year at Hogwarts started with Sirius Black falling in love (or so he says) at least five times before the first week ended.

You kept count, mostly to annoy him and to hold it over his head.

"That’s three today," you muttered as he flashed a grin at a Hufflepuff girl by the Great Hall.

Sirius shrugged. "I’m a generous soul. Why limit myself?"

You rolled your eyes. "You’re a menace."

He winked. "Takes one to know one, sister dearest."

You shoved his shoulder as you made your way to Charms, trying to ignore the gaggle of fourth-years giggling as Sirius passed.

Truthfully, his constant flirting didn’t bother you much,he was Sirius, after all. Reckless, charming, impossible. What did get under your skin was the way he’d toss his arm around your shoulder and say things like:

"You so much as look at a bloke and he’s getting hexed to the moon."

You scoffed. "You can flirt with the entire school, but I talk to one boy and you go full Black using unforgivables?"

Sirius looked smug. "Exactly."

You muttered something dark under your breath and kept walking. If he only knew.

Because, somewhere between third year Quidditch and late-night library sessions, your crush on James Potter had officially turned into something solid. Something spark-filled. Something that made your stomach do full somersaults every time he smiled at you.

And you were doing an excellent job hiding it. You thought.

Until Hogsmeade.

The first trip of the year landed on a crisp October weekend. You bundled into coats and scarves, excited to finally be allowed to go. The Marauders were beside themselves with plans, Zonko’s, Honeydukes, the Three Broomsticks.

By the time you reached the cobbled village streets, you were laughing so hard your sides hurt.

But somewhere between the sweetshop and the joke shop, the group split off.

Peter wandered off mumbling about sugar quills. Remus ducked into the bookstore. Sirius spotted someone and muttered, "Back in a tick," vanishing with a wink.

You and James stood awkwardly on the street corner.

He grinned. "Guess it’s just us."

Your heart leapt. "Looks like it."

He held out his arm dramatically. "May I escort you, Miss Black?"

You snorted. "You’re a twat."

"A twat with galleons. C’mon, I’ll buy you a drink."

You ended up wandering through the village together, trading insults and sweets, brushing shoulders a little more than necessary. He bought you a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks and a ridiculous quill shaped like a snitch from Scrivenshaft’s.

"You can use it to write all your love letters to me," he said.

"Oh, obviously. I’ll start with: ‘Dear James, stop buying me ugly quills.’"

"Rude. That’s top-quality craftsmanship."

You smiled until your face hurt.

At one point, walking back toward the castle in the late afternoon sun, your fingers brushed. You didn’t move away.

You got back to Gryffindor Tower with wind-chilled cheeks and a glowing chest. James had given you the quill with a goofy little bow and a low, “For you, my lady Keeper.”

You kept it tucked in your robe pocket the whole night.

You didn’t tell Sirius. Obviously. He would’ve had a heart attack, or worse, questions.

Instead, you lay in your bed that night, staring at the ceiling, twirling the quill between your fingers and smiling like a lunatic.

It wasn’t a date, not officially but it felt like one and that was enough to keep you floating for days.

"You’ve been weird lately," Sirius said two nights later, flopped upside down on the common room couch with his feet hanging over the back.

"Thanks, brother dearest."

"No, I mean - weird. Giggly, are you ill?"

You rolled your eyes. "Maybe I’m just happy."

"Gross."

"Maybe I met someone."

Sirius lifted his head, eyes narrowed. "If you did, I’m gonna need his name, wand make, and mother’s maiden name, patronus, boggart and quidditch opinions."

You laughed. You couldn’t help it.

Because you’d definitely met someone.

And you’d known him for years.

But you weren’t ready to admit it yet. Not to Sirius, not even to yourself.

Not when James Potter still looked at you like a best friend with a shared broomstick obsession and a knack for blowing up cauldrons.

Still, as you curled up that night, James’ laughter echoing in your ears, you let yourself believe, just a little, that maybe, one day, it could be something more.

Fifth year at Hogwarts exploded with noise, cheers, and scarlet streamers. Gryffindor had just demolished Slytherin in the first Quidditch match of the season, and the common room was practically vibrating with celebration.

You were still flushed from the adrenaline of the game, saves echoing in your ears, hands still tingling from the last block that sealed the win before your seeker caught the snitch.

James caught your eye across the room. He grinned that ridiculous grin, the one that started behind his eyes and tugged crookedly at his mouth.

“Oi, Keeper Extraordinaire,” he said, plopping beside you on the couch.

“You mean, Gryffindor’s Great Wall?” you teased.

He laughed, eyes bright behind his glasses. “You were brilliant today. Seriously. That dive at the last minute?”

You shrugged, trying to downplay it, but your cheeks were already warm. “All in a day’s work.”

He nudged your knee with his. “Don’t get modest on me now.”

The party swirled around you, music, firewhiskey smuggled in from somewhere, first years dancing awkwardly near the fireplace but it all blurred a little when James looked at you like that.

Like he was seeing you. Not Sirius’ sister. Just you.

Your eyes dipped to his lips before you could stop yourself and he noticed.

For a breath, the world stilled. Like the chaos ensuing around wasn't even happening. Then - “WHOOOOO!”

A body crashed between you and James, knocking you sideways into the armrest. Sirius, pissed as a skunk. Absolutely smashed, by the looks of him.

“Look at my baby sister,” he slurred, throwing an arm around your shoulders and nearly knocking your butterbeer over. “Flying like a bloody comet out there, almost makes me proud.”

You groaned. “Sirius, get off.”

He squinted at James, then turned to you. “Heard some Hufflepuff twats talking about you. Guess you’re grown now that you’ve got boys being gits over you.”

James coughed, very pointedly looking anywhere else. 

You shoved Sirius back, face burning. “Don’t start you tosser.”

He raised a wobbly finger. “You’re not allowed to date. Not ‘til I marry. That’s the rule.”

You glared. “Then I’ll be sixty, you wanker.”

Remus arrived, looking apologetic and mildly exasperated. “He nicked half a bottle of Firewhiskey and I couldn’t stop him.”

You sighed and motioned for him to help haul Sirius upright.

“Come on, Loverboy,” you muttered. “Off the couch.”

But the moment between you and James had passed. The spark snuffed out by the dramatic, drunken wall that was your brother. You were intending to go back to the party to rejoin him maybe and rekindle the blown out flame when you spotted him grinning widely at Lily Evans through his goblet.

You ended up turning around and retreating to your dorm room.

Later that week, things turned quieter. Quieter between you and James. More cautious. But something shifted elsewhere.

You, Sirius, James, and Peter had been circling an idea since early spring of second year, an idea sparked when you, together, learned the truth about Remus’ monthly disappearances.

It had taken time. Remus never meant to tell you, he was terrified but secrets don’t last long among the Marauders.

Which is how the Animagus plan was born.

You’d thrown yourself into the research with Sirius back in second year, both of you locked away in the library for hours at a time, even stealing books from Grimmauld Place. James helped too, of course, but he wasn’t as obsessed. You and Sirius shared something about it, twins born into a house of monsters, doing something good for once.

You kept saying, “If Remus has to do this, he shouldn’t be alone.”

James agreed of course and Peter did not need much convincing. He was more than happy to offer all the help he could, that was - if he wasn’t too occupied by Quidditch. You could swear he breathed it.

Nothing similar to the Quidditch win party happened between you ever again. He was back to treating you like the usual. His best friend and also the sister of his other best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

It stung, but you bite down the bitter feelings knowing you had no right to be so upset such trivial matters of a crush on your brother’s best friend - such a cliché, really. You suppose it was almost a big bow to wrap this entire joke.

Black twins get sorted into the worst house possible, and you get a crush on the bloodtraitor heir your parents always berated you for befriending, how absolutely marvellous!

The transformations took years to master, of course. But by fifth year’s end, it was done.You four, against all odds and limitations of barely being of-age students of magic managed to actually perform such a difficult feat.

James: a magnificent stag.

Sirius: a proud black dog.

You: a sleeker black dog, with a white patch over your eye.

Peter : a rat.

“Twins ‘til the end,” Sirius had said when you both transformed for the first time, panting and wagging your tails beside each other.

Even James couldn’t tell you apart at first, your spot barely seen when running or in the dark. You all started sneaking out once a month. Joining Remus in the forest, running together like his little mismatched pack.

It wasn’t perfect, sometimes it was terrifying, but it was also loyalty, love, and friendship.

Something your family never taught you. The Marauders did.

Fifth year ended in a fire.

Not literal fire, though Sirius once joked that if he’d had a wand in his hand that night, he might’ve lit the bloody curtains ablaze himself.

No, it was worse than that. It was screaming, slamming doors, bruises in places your mother would never see.

And Sirius, curled up on the floor of your bedroom, shaking so hard you thought he might break apart. They proposed a marriage to him, one with a second cousin - not too close that you knew them well but also close enough to keep the toujour pur shit.

So crucio assaulted him over and over again, wracking his body until he couldn’t take it anymore and you jumped in. Taking some of the hits and it didn’t take long for them to finally stop.

They eventually got tired and let you both go. With Regulus’ help, you managed to haul Sirius into your room where you stood guard to keep him safe, or as safe as you could. He didn’t speak, he couldn't afford it that night, not with everything he endured. He just laid there, hollow-eyed and silent, and you sat next to him with your back to the door, wand in hand, daring anyone to come in.

They didn’t, much to your relief. They were off, and Regulus did not check in once. You knew he wanted to, knew he was badly worried but you made him promised not to come again, in the case they come back to finish Sirius off.

You wanted to keep your baby brother away from it.

The next morning, before the sun rose, you packed a bag.

“Get up,” you whispered. “We’re leaving.”

Sirius didn’t argue. You assist him, holding his weakened body up and he clung to you like you were his lifeline. Ignoring your own injuries, you held him.

The Potters’ doorstep glowed like salvation, when you reached there it felt like all the weight came off you. You could almost smell the familiar broom polish and peppermint tea. Many times you’ve been, but never like this.

You dread the whole thing, how you turned to this after everything that has happened. It was really unfortunate, the many memories that were all fun and good and bright, but now every step you took felt like a stain on all those memories.

Every pained step approaching the Potter manor’s entryway is an ink dropped on the beautiful photograph of your youth. You can’t undo it, hard as you try.

You prop Sirius on your side, holding him up better and raised your hand to ring the bell, every second spent waiting for the door to swing open is like a second spent under the crucio spell. You shut your eyes, willing your breath to even out.

James opened the door in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes - and then froze when he saw you both. You failed keeping your breath even, you choked before you could let the words out. You had to swallow thickly.

You weren’t sure what you looked like, but it must’ve been bad. Your hair was tangled, your brother’s face was bruised, and your hands were shaking.

“Please,” you said.

He pulled you inside without hesitation. He hadn’t fully registered your appearance, how Sirius was almost lifeless clinging off your shoulder and how broken you both looked. He hauled you in like it could undo everything.

You only meant to stay the night after dropping Sirius off.

Sirius needed somewhere safe, and you knew Euphemia and Fleamont Potter would never turn him away. You told yourself you’d drop him off, make sure he had food, and then leave. Return home, face your parents and go back to Regulus.

You were already reaching for your bag again when James stopped you, blocking you from getting through the door.

“You’re not going back,” he said.

“I have to,” you insisted. “They’ll - ”

“Hurt you,” James finished. “Just like they did him.”

You blinked. “It’s different.”

“Is it?”

You didn’t have an answer, he walked over to tug your sleeves, and it showed what he had speculated. Bruises littered your arms, similar to Sirius. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

You shake your head, tugging your arm back. "It's not that bad. Sirius, he - he took most of the hits, for me."

You choke on your sobs then. "My brothers always do, they try their best to protect me. I can't just leave Regulus back there, Sirius has you here, but Reggie - he won't have anyone."

James stepped closer, voice soft. “At least talk to Sirius about it first.”

You looked at Sirius. He was curled up on the couch, fast asleep under a blanket Mrs. Potter had tucked around him. For the first time in years, his face wasn’t clenched in sleep.

You looked away, swallowing thickly. Knowing damn well the moment you look at James, your resolve would melt like butter with a hot knife. So you tugged your arm free of his hold and shook your head.

“Let me go or I will hate you for the rest of my life,” you threatened him and the seconds he took to answer scared you. He would be willing to be hated if you managed to stay safe with him, at least.

He’s too good. Perhaps that was why, why you managed to fall despite yourself. Why his smile made your stomach do flips when he was supposed to be a brother to you as well, Merlin knows Sirius saw him as one - but you saw differently.

He was never James, Sirius’s friend. He was always just James. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked, unsure.

“I’m sure,” you adjust the bag and give him a small smile without meeting his eyes. You stopped right at his nose. “Bye, James.”

You didn’t wait for him to return it, he didn’t want to. You just got out of the house without bidding the Potters and your brother goodbye, to walk back into the hell you were bred into to suffer more under the hands of people who should have cared the most for you.

Sixth-year was absolutely weird. The world has shifted so much then. Sirius left, you helped him escape and yet you crawled back into the snake’s den to stay. Sirius understood why you did it, without having to ask James, he knew why you returned.

He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt, because it hurt like hell. You were practically another half of him, he wasn’t whole without you but reality has set in and the truth is that only one of you can truly escape the home that shackled you all down.

And if anyone were to ever get out, it’d be Sirius.

You boarded the train with Regulus, he asked you not to leave him. So you obliged and occupied a compartment with Pandora who you had no solid opinion of, you barely talked and she didn’t seem to be a bad influence on your brother.

You just looked out into the blur of countryside out the window while they chatted about things only they understood. That was until, you had to use the bathroom and leave briefly. You muttered an excuse you barely remembered giving then exited into the train hallway where you saw James right away.

You give him a small smile. You can read the worry in his face, all the questions he was about to shout out so you went ahead and answered him, guessing that he was struggling what to ask first.

“I’m fine, despite everything,” you managed a low chuckle. “How’s Sirius?”

James seemed to collect himself then. “He’s. . .coping. Did they - “

You cut him off. The truth will just hurt the both of you, because of course they did. Your twin brother escaped from his abusive home and you helped him, they knew that much was true because they hurt Sirius so bad it would have been impossible for him to crawl out alone.

So they hurt you as well, over and over until the lines blurred between being awake and in pain, and being out of it. Regulus had to nurse you back to health with Kreacher, which was quite a feat. You could swear you have never seen Regulus cry until that night he thought you’d died.

He was always so strong, so good despite how he carries himself and he loved you and your twin so much beyond words could possibly express. He was just a kid, you know that.

And you were all he has left. So you cut James off - “That’s good to know. Didn’t give Effie and Monty much trouble, did he?”

James was stunned but managed to respond, “No, he’s been. . .he’s fine. Hey - “ As if on cue, Sirius appeared behind him. He was smiling at James and about to go off about some dungbombs he set off until his eyes saw you.

You give him a weak smile. “Good summer?”

He didn’t find humor in it. He strode past James and rushed to hug you, a sound that was almost a huff leaving you as you returned the hug. You could tell he was trying not to cry as he hugged you so tightly.

Life at Hogwarts was almost the same then. Only, you spent more time with Regulus than you did previously, he had been quite clingy ever since that night he cried and he made his dislike for James very obvious.

To the point he would be scowling if he was around, completely oblivious to the way your heart did cartwheels at the very sight of James Potter. He’d often approach, always as a friend and with friendly gestures.

It always disappointed you.

He once put your hand in his pocket on a walk back from the library because it was cold. "Warming charm’s a bust," he said, grinning. "You're handier."

You knew better than to read into it, you always knew better.

Because he never said anything. Never did anything. Not anything that could blur the lines between ‘friends’ and ‘something more’ at least, and James Potter was nothing if not direct when he wanted something.

So you told yourself it was platonic. He was like this with people he cared about - warm and golden and effortless. You just happened to be orbiting close enough to feel it.

You were still telling yourself that when Hogsmeade weekend rolled around.

You weren’t even planning to go, not really with everything that had gone on during the summer. You doubted a butterbeer could make any difference, not when everything has changed. But you'd thought maybe you’d run into him, get Honeydukes together or sit by the Three Broomsticks fire. Nothing fancy, just the kind of day friends have.

Except you saw him by the gates, laughing with a Ravenclaw girl you barely knew the name of. Her scarf was wrapped loosely around her neck, her mittened hands swinging too close to his. He leaned down to say something and she laughed.

You stood there longer than you should have, like an idiot.

He didn’t even see you.

That’s when it hit you. Not like a slap. Slaps are quick and clean. This felt more like ice water dumped on you, shocking, all-encompassing. She was real and she was with him - and you - you were a friend. Just a friend.

That’s all you’d ever been.

And maybe, if you were being honest, all he’d ever meant you to be.

You turned around and walked back up the path, third step and all, and you didn’t even flinch when it creaked. Just like how you remained stuck in the darkness of Grimmauld Place, you remained in the shadow where James Potter couldn’t truly see you.

end. masterlist

[rubymariebutler]

✶ 𝟕𝟑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: american actress and model, y/n butler, takes vogue inside her beautiful palm springs home and answers 73 questions.

pairing: austin butler x fem!reader

faceclaim: none, but yael shelbia to me

tags: age gap (23/33), priscilla actress!reader, marriage, kids, reader and austin are parents of a baby girl and a baby boy, mentions of other celebrities, reader is an elvis defender and a critic of priscilla, here reader and austin won their respective oscars for elvis, austin doesn't really appear here but he's mentioned all the time so

ruby notes: writing this was really fun for me. if you're a priscilla fan, this might not be to your liking, but if you read anyway, i hope you enjoy the reading. this is just reader being obsessed with austin, so maybe everyone will feel identified here lmao

"hey, y/n!" the cameraman greets you as soon as you open the thick wooden door of your palm springs home.

"hi." you greet him animatedly with a sweet smile, bowing your head in a friendly manner.

"i came here to ask you 73 questions very, very quickly."

you nod, stepping aside to let him inside. "okay. 73 questions is a lot, let's see how fast we can do this."

he walks through the door and the camera follows you as you walk naturally, dressed comfortably in a cool, loose-fitting dress. the living room, open, spacious and elegant, is the first thing the camera catches as you enter your home, but you avoid that area for now and the camera follows you into the kitchen.

"what did you do for the first 30 minutes of your day?"

an amused smile forms on your lips and, without stopping your steps, you look at the camera for a moment. "i stayed in bed, hugging my husband like a koala bear."

behind the camera, the cameraman smiles. "well, that sounds pretty comfortable. are all your mornings like that?"

"when neither of us has to work, yes."

"what gets you out of bed?"

"my kids. if they weren't there, i'd stay in bed with my husband for the rest of the day."

"what do you usually do on lazy days?" he asks you, moving a little away from you to circle the island.

"not leave the house. i just stay in bed, with my husband and kids."

"what's keeping you busy these days?"

"being a wife and mom." you reply, laughing. "that's a full-time job." you say as you head to the fridge to pull out a pitcher of cold water and pour into a glass.

"thank you." he says to you, across the marble island, as you set the glass of water down in front of him. "what's the most exciting thing in life right now?"

"being a wife and a mom." you laugh again.

"why did you and austin name your daughter alyssa?"

you open your mouth and smile, excited. "oh my god, i love this question." you squeal, excited. "well, i'm a huge fan of the universe of a song of ice and fire, and one of my favorite characters is princess alyssa targaryen. austin loved it, so we decided that would be our baby's name, even though he calls her lyssa."

"like lisa marie?"

you shake your head. "no. like lyssa drak."

"what's your favorite character from a song of ice and fire?"

"rhaenyra targaryen." you reply, putting the pitcher of water back in the fridge.

"we'll talk about your daughter." he says, to which you nod with a smile. "let's talk about your son now. his name is elvis, we all know why, but who decided on that name?"

you blink and take a breath, before answering. "it was a mutual decision, actually. we both liked that name and were fine with our son being called that, but it was lisa marie who started it all. before she passed away, we told her the news that i was pregnant again and she said she would love our son to be named after her father. and.... well, she didn't get to meet him, but i'm sure she would have loved him."

"elvis is a great name."

"it is." you reply, laughing and nodding.

"what's the movie you've worked on that you're most fond of?"

"i love all the movies i've worked on. oppenheimer and dune were amazing, but elvis will always have a special place in my heart." you approach him again, looking into the camera with a knowing smile. "i don't think i need to tell you why."

"surely not." he answers you, because no, you don't need to say anything, everyone knows why elvis is so special. "speaking of elvis, priscilla presley and sofia coppola wanted you to bring the king's wife back to life in her biopic. why didn't you?"

"creative differences." you answer flippantly, as if it was no big deal, even though it was at the time.

you had already read priscilla's book, and no, you weren't happy with all the lies written there, but it was reading the script for her movie that made you distance yourself; you wanted nothing to do with it.

"if you had played priscilla again, this time in her movie, do you think you could have won another oscar?"

"we'll never know." you say with a smile, shrugging.

"of all the roles you've played, which is your favorite?"

"cassiopeia." you answer immediately, without hesitation. cassiopeia, your character in dune 2, is your favorite, by far. "she's so sensual and mysterious and a girl boss. i love her."

"you have two movies coming out soon, but is there a new genre you'd like to work in or a character you'd like to play?"

"i want to do something horror." you clasp your hands together, interlocking your fingers. "i love horror, it's my favorite genre, and i'd really like to work on something like that."

"do you have any favorite horror movies?"

"talk to me and ready or not."

"i think you'd make a great scream queen."

you squeal excitedly, still smiling. "i think so too!"

"of the movies you're working on that are coming out, which one are you most looking forward to?"

"all of them." you start moving to get out of the kitchen. he circles the isle to follow you. "eddington and caught stealing are brilliant films and i'm excited for the world to be able to see and enjoy them. and i work on both with my husband, so that makes it even more exciting."

"what's the best thing about being married to someone who shares your profession?"

"understanding, probably. being inside the same world, we understand things and situations that a person outside of this job wouldn't be able to understand very easily."

"you're quite wise."

you smile at the camera, sweet and excited. "thank you, i learned that from my husband and pinterest." he laughs.

he laughs. "i read phrases on pinterest too and use them to give advice, so i'm not gonna judge you. other than elvis, you and austin have worked together on four movies. how easy is that?"

"actually, it makes everything easier." you respond with a smile. the camera follows you as you walk into the living room and sit on the big L-shaped couch. "for everything. i mean, putting aside that all of our characters are romantically related and our chemistry is natural, it's... the presence of each other, you know... just knowing that austin is there, it makes me feel comfortable and safe. working with him makes everything easier, in every way."

"how does it feel to have so much chemistry with your husband, that directors ask to have them in their movies together?"

you feel your cheeks warm, and you don't have to look in the mirror to know you're blushing. "well, it's certainly very flattering."

"we know you're a big fan of lana del rey. what are your top 5 favorite songs?"

"mmm..." you hum, staring at the ceiling for a moment, before looking back at the camera. "young and beautiful, cinnamon girl, video games, million dollar man and religion."

"best concert you've ever been to?"

"blackpink at l.a in 2023."

"and if you had to pick one girl from blackpink, who would it be?"

"rosé."

"best song to sing in the shower?"

"stay a little longer by rosé."

"beautiful house, by the way. what's your favorite thing about it?"

"living in it." you answer his question simply, standing up to walk over to the vinyl shelf, with a record player located just below it.

"well, woah, that sure is a great vinyl collection."

"do you like it?" you ask him with a smile, pulling out an elvis vinyl.

"it's awesome. what's your favorite elvis song?"

"can't help falling in love." you reply, putting the record on the turntable. "it's a very special song to austin and me, so it's my number one."

"would you mind telling us a little bit more about it?"

"it was the song that was playing when we first kissed, and austin always sings it for me there." you point to the piano located in the middle of the living room.

"that's very romantic."

"it is." you reply, stepping through the large transparent doors that lead to the garden.

"where did you grow up?"

"brooklyn. i was born and raised there, until i was 17."

"what's the most american thing about you?"

"probably that my favorite food is pizza." you laugh, frowning, as you walk past the side of the pool. "it's the least american thing, but it's the most american thing about me."

"you could eat pizza every day for the rest of your life?"

"absolutely."

"what would be the perfect date for you?"

"dinner here." you reply, gesturing around you as you sit in one of the armchairs located in the garden.

"that's it?"

"believe it or not, yes. i'm not a high maintenance woman. of course, there has to be good wine."

"your husband is austin butler."

a proud smile tugs at your lips. "yeah, he is."

"what's one thing people don't know about him?"

"he loves making paper roses with alyssa."

"well, isn't that sweet? for those who don't know, how did you guys meet?"

"we met in 2019, thanks to elvis. he had been cast to play elvis presley and i was cast to play priscilla, his wife."

"we know that elvis was complicated for both of you for certain reasons. have you and austin moved on from that situation?"

that situation. well, it was certainly very difficult; of all the cases of actors being consumed by their roles, you didn't think you and austin would be added to the list. but you were, and it was hell. your countenance changes for a moment, but you immediately smile again.

"we're still working on it, but we're doing much better." is all you say.

"are there any habits of his that you've picked up?"

you purse your lips. "sleep with a watch on my wrist."

"did he pick up any habits from you?"

you let out a laugh. "no."

"who cooks at home?"

you don't respond verbally, but point to yourself.

"you like to cook, then?"

"i love it." you respond with a smile, nodding. "when i was a kid, i remember always hanging out in the kitchen, helping mom with the food because i was genuinely interested and really liked it. so yeah, i'm the one who cooks. austin cooks pretty well, too, but whenever he tries to help, i tell him to get out of my kitchen."

"if you weren't an actress, what would you be?"

"chef."

"i think you'd be a great chef."

"would you go to my restaurant?" this time you ask.

"all the time."

"you should come over for dinner one of these days, you know?"

"i'd be delighted."

you wrinkle your nose. "this video is going to be long because of me, isn't it?"

"we like listening to you, to be honest, so it's okay. what's the best thing about being a mom?"

"my kids."

"what's the best thing about being a wife?"

"my husband." you answer, laughing. you don't need to specify anything; the best thing about being a wife and mom are literally the reasons you are a wife and mom. you love your babies and you love austin, so you doubt there's much more to say.

"you became a mom very young, you were eighteen. how hard was that?"

"mmm..." you hum thoughtfully, pursing your lips as you stare at the lawn. "i'd say it was about as hard as a pregnancy usually is. i don't think my age made things harder, my pregnancy was normal, just like the second one, and austin was by my side the whole time, every step of the way, so, in fact, i think it was even easier than it could be."

you avoid mentioning that yes, it was complicated, but not for the reasons people would think, but that you were both confused and fucked up in the head and elvis was there. and yes, austin calls your daughter lyssa, but not because of some stupid comic book character. people don't have to find out, anyway, so who cares.

"are you and austin planning on having more kids or do you want to stop at two?"

you shake your head, smiling slightly sweetly. "we want more." you tell him, remembering all the times austin has told you he wants more babies, and god, you love seeing him with your babies in his arms, so there's no way you're denying him more children.

"marvel or dc?"

"marvel."

"what's your favorite marvel character?"

"spider-man." you shrug. "is there another option? i don't think so."

"favorite fictional couple?"

"ed and lorraine warren." you answer immediately, a smile inevitably tugging at your lips. "god, they're beautiful, i really love them. for me, the spell is romance movies and i'm happy thinking this way."

"who's the most fashionable woman that you know?"

"rosé." you reply, smiling again.

"you've been a frequent guest at the met gala since 2022. of all the ones you've attended, which would be your favorite?"

"2022, because austin was there."

"as a saint laurent ambassador, what do you like most about this brand?"

"the elegance. it's such a natural elegance and so fresh, i think it's become a characteristic of saint laurent."

"heels or sneakers?"

"heels."

"what's the accessory you can't leave the house without?"

you don't answer verbally. instead, you show your hand to the camera and wiggle your fingers, letting the camera focus on your wedding ring.

"who's the most fashionable man that you know?"

"my man." you laugh as you answer the question. "it's not just that he dresses well, but that he really takes the time to decide what to wear. i like that about him. we're so alike in that way."

"who is the person you admire the most?"

"my husband."

"what do you admire most about your husband?"

"everything." you answer simply, shrugging your shoulders. "his intelligence, his wisdom, his patience, his patience, his perseverance, his perseverance, his determination, his determination, his talent, his empathy, his vision for everything and everyone... i could go on and on." you wave your hand, laughing.

"well, that's a long list." he laughs. "is there anything you've learned from austin in all the years you've been together?"

"everything, i think. everything i know, he's taught me." you blink, remembering, and shrug as you continue talking. "one of the things i love most about austin, is that when i make a mistake, any kind, or do something wrong or don't achieve what i wanted, he just sits me down with him or hugs me and comforts me, you know...he tells me it's okay, that it's just a mistake, that he's proud of me and he always finds solutions for everything and helps me, in everything. he's a dream."

"ah! you two are really lovely, no wonder why you're one of hollywood's most loved couples. is there any activity you like to do together?"

"reading." you give him a tight-mouthed smile, remembering all the books you've read and finished thanks to this little habit you both picked up. "we both love to read, and we especially like to do it before bed. it's like a little routine we have."

"do you have a favorite book that you both enjoy reading?"

"austin doesn't have any favorites, but we both love to read 1984 and the odyssey."

"what's your favorite book?"

"right now? fire and blood. it really has nothing to do with the books austin and i read." you laugh. "it's totally different, but it works for me. i like it, it's my favorite."

"do you like reading fantasy a lot?"

you tilt your head, looking at the camera. "i prefer to read horror, to be honest, but when i read a fantasy book, that book becomes my new obsession."

"is there a book you carry everywhere you go?"

"not physically, but i have a lot of books downloaded on my phone, so yes; right now i'm rereading fire and blood for the third time."

"oh, wow!" he exclaims, making you laugh with flushed cheeks. "your obsession is serious, i see."

"my obsession with something only goes away when i become obsessed with something else. of course, that doesn't apply to my husband.

"you and austin look very exercised. do you work out together?"

you nod at his question. you and austin work out together every day, him doing his routines and you doing yours; when you're not working, of course. sometimes you spend weeks apart and have to do your respective routines without each other's presence, which frankly you find depressing. it's not the same working out alone, as it is with austin; watching him, seeing his body, watching his hands, his muscles flex, and always ending up fucking in the shower.

"usually, yes." you smile, remembering how especially rough he is when he fucks you after working out. "we work out together."

"what's your favorite exercise?"

"pilates." you say immediately.

"we know you also do ballet. do you like it?"

"i love ballet."

"since when do you do ballet?"

you squint your eyes, remembering. "mmm... since i was a baby. i was 3 or 4 years old when i started going to ballet classes, and i haven't stopped since."

"would you have liked to be a professional dancer? you know, perform in theaters."

"no." your quick answer makes them both laugh. "but maybe you'll see me being a dancer in some movie, who knows?" you shrug. "maybe a possessed dancer."

"i'd love to see that, and i'm sure your fans would too. if you could travel back in time, what year would you go to?"

"none. i'm doing just fine here."

"who is your biggest inspiration?"

"my husband."

"who's your favorite actor?"

"my husband." you answer again, laughing. by this point, you feel like you're talking more about austin, than anything else. not that it bothers you, anyway. austin is and always will be your favorite topic of conversation.

"who's your favorite actress?"

"natalie portman, probably. i loved her in black swan."

"for you, who is hollywood's most iconic couple?"

you wrinkle your nose, looking at him instead of the camera. "shit, that's too hard. i have no idea." you end up laughing.

"if you could give an oscar nomination to a person who has not been nominated for an oscar, who would it be?"

"margaret qualley." you answer immediately, without a second's hesitation.

"wow, that was fast."

a light chuckle erupts from your throat and you throw your head back, laughing. "i know, i think i've been waiting for that question my whole life."

"if you could give the oscar to someone who was already nominated, but didn't win, who would it be?"

"demi moore."

he laughs. "i see you have your thoughts straight."

"i mean, demi deserved that oscar, you know? mikey too, she's a very talented woman, but demi has my heart. i loved her in the substance and, overall, i think she's such a talented and poised actress. it's a shame. but i'm sure her time will come. it was mikey's turn this time, she was exceptional in annora."

"and lastly, possibly the most important question." he pulls back a little so the camera catches your outfit; an elegant loose-fitting dress that doesn't highlight your curves or show off your stomach. "there are a lot of rumors that you're pregnant. is it true?"

you smile broadly, letting out a slight nasal giggle. you run your hands across your stomach, clinging your dress to your body, revealing a slight curve in your belly, a tiny baby bump.

"do i look like i am?"

oh, the fans will go crazy.

[marlboro00999]

So, tell me about yourself, Chris.

"My studies take up a lot of my time. I've always achieved top grades in my chosen subjects. I love the theatre and costume design - I've written a few plays. I'm a good writer, and I like to push the boundaries of acceptibility. People need stimulation and their personal comfort zone needs to be pricked - triggered to question if other possibilities they'd never thought of could be accepted by them."

Are you dating anyone?

"Ha!... No. I was dating for a while, but something happened that changed all that. You see, I started meeting up with a friend after school. He was a good few years older than me, but he made a big impact. I don't even remember how I first met him. That time seems a blur to me now. But I felt compelled to meet up with him when he wanted to meet me a few evenings a week. Nobody had made such an enormous impact on me. He introduced me to smoking, which became more and more regular, as he'd supply me with Marlboro Reds. He became my best friend, and he learnt everything about me."

Really? He must have been quite a guy.

"Oh yes. He really is."

So, what happened?

"On one of the evenings, he took me to a place out of town which was a life-changing experience for me. It transformed my whole outlook on life, and life's priorities."

Can you tell me where that was?

"I can't tell you the location, but it's called the Marlboro Men's Club."

What happened?

"My friend told me he wanted me to meet his friends, so I was quite keen to be introduced. It may seem strange, but even though he knew everything about me, I'd not actually learnt anything about him over all those weeks of meeting up with him and smoking. I can't even explain why. Smoking the cigarettes with him had become an almost ritual process, and I felt incredibly bonded to him through it. I trusted him completely, and can honestly say I'd do anything for him... and for the Marlboro cigarettes."

What happened when you arrived at the Marlboro Men's Club?

"The door was locked, but he had a key. As the door opened, a cloud of cigarette smoke was billowed through the door. He led me into what was a large dark room. It was like some sort of warehouse, but totally wreaked of cigarette smoke. It was such a surprise, but unexpectedly appealing and stimulating. Out of the shadows stepped a number of men, all dressed as my friend dressed, with biker jackets. I wasn't afraid, as I knew they were his friends, and they were all smiling."

So, it was just a few older men?

"Well, actually... no. I was surprised to see a few guys my age from school. Not from any of my classes, but I recognised them from seeing them during break times. All the men and the guys from school were smoking, and all smiled, looking really pleased to see me."

Was the room empty?

"No. There was a very large Marlboro logo on the far wall, illuminated by lamps and candles which adorned a massive stone slap in front of it."

Interesting. So, what happened next?

"I'll simply say that, if the following events were to be included in any of my writings, I'd never be published, and my future prospects in the theater would vanish. However, I can add that after that evening, I broke off with my date. The experience of my ritual initiation into the recently formed Marlboro Men's Youth Club transformed me, and I knew that this was the only family I needed - that no partner could possibly come near to providing the emotional and physical needs that had been revealed to me. I was filled and fulfilled at that stone slab before the Marlboro icon in ways that remain secret, only known to the initiated. I'll simply say that I was brought into full communion with my family and with Marlboro."

What are you writing in that book?

"I'm writing updates on the boys at school that I'm currently nurturing in Marlboro addiction. It's important that I report on their addiction progress, and on my level of influence over them. It's so my family at the MMC can judge when each one is ready for introducing for their initiation."

Their initiation?

"You surely realise that all the boys at the school need to eventually be initiated in the MM Youth Club? It's what's best for them. My family require it. Marlboro requires it."

Check the follow-on story HERE

[works-of-heart]

Hello!! I have a few Elucien related asks for funsies:

- What do you think draws you to Elucien as a ship?

- Do you have a favorite Elucien head canon that you’d love to read in their book?

- If you read fan fic, do you remember what your first Elucien fic was? Or do you have one you are currently reading you’re loving?

- Would you prefer to read a super angsty, drama-filled Elucien book that tears at the heartstrings, or more of a romantic comedy with lots of banter and fluff? Or a combination?

Feel free to share these question prompts with your fave Elucien accounts or anyone else you think would like to participate and spread the positive vibes!

Ahh this is so sweet! I love these kind of asks! <3

- What do you think draws you to Elucien as a ship?

Both Lucien and Elain are people who try to make the best out of their situations. They are both so emotionally intelligent, empathetic, and are great at making friends. They've also been labeled at being loyal, which I can only imagine how both of them would be loving and loyal to one another. Elain is a very proper woman and Lucien is a reformed rake, and I'd love seeing Lucien do and say things that will have Elain blushing and thinking of things that aren't very 'proper' and 'lady-like'. They're both underestimated by their peers and those around them, thinking that they'll just bend to the will of others, and I think there's so much underneath the surface that neither of them have scratched. I cannot wait for both of them to show up everyone who doubted their abilities and prove them wrong! Also, they look so freaking cute together!

- Do you have a favorite Elucien head canon that you’d love to read in their book?

Ohhh! I have so many different head canons for them!

I have this one head canon that Elain has gotten gifts for Elucien every solstice, but she's just been too overwhelmed to give him his gifts. They sit in their boxes, perfectly wrapped (she's had to rewrap them like 10 times because she wanted it to be perfect) in the corner. She's written on his card "To my mate", then scratched it off but you can still see the words barely under the scribbles, and rewrote "To: Lucien" on all of them. It wasn't enough to just leave them in a pile, she wanted to give it to him, but couldn't build up the nerve to do it. So they sat there, and she figured she'd just let them stay there forever.

I would love to read that on solstice, maybe they share it together, just them, and Elain is finally able to give those gifts to Lucien. She tells him she had never forgotten him. What's even better is if these gifts play an important part in their story, like something she had seen from a vision that would turn the tides in his favor if he uses them!

I also have a head canon that Elain and Lucien can communicate through their bond, perhaps if not with words, with emotions. He can feel her, just as she can feel him. So despite Elain never saying she's uncomfortable with something, Lucien would be able to sense it, and act accordingly. I love the idea that their bond is an emotional link for them.

- If you read fan fic, do you remember what your first Elucien fic was? Or do you have one you are currently reading you’re loving?

My very first fic was one @zenkindoflove wrote about Elain accepting the bond via a cookie! And Rhys and everyone knew the frenzy was going to follow suit so they all started panicking to scramble out of the house! It was hilarious and I was in stitches after it!

I love all the fics done by she and @crazy-ache! When those two get together to write, you know it's going to be good!! I have such a backlog of fics I'm trying to catch up on! I'm currently reading @crazy-ache 's fic "Treacherous Waters" now that it's complete! I love, love, LOVE the way she's written Lucien and Elain! There's this tension and back and forth they have. She writes Lucien as a charming rake, he's dangerous, firey, and just dripping with sexiness! Elain's cheerfulness and hopeful outlook is JUST like it is in canon, and I'm loving the way she writes this side of her giving Elain such dimension.

I am also keeping up with @themadmorrigan's fic "Sic Semper Tyrannis" This fic is very different from the few I've read. It has a bit more of a serious tone, but also that sense of mystery and adventure. I play a lot of D&D, and other table top games. This gave me the feeling of that kind of build up for the adventure they're about to have. It's only got 2 chapters so far, but she does a FANTASTIC job at world building and setting the stage for what is to come! I'm hooked and her last chapter has me eagerly waiting more!

I have a trove of other fics sitting in my back pocket that I need to read! I just wish my ADHD would let me sit and focus and remember to dive in! My friends in this fandom are absolutely talented with their writing and art, and have ways of allowing me to experience Elucien in unique stories that anyone can enjoy!

- Would you prefer to read a super angsty, drama-filled Elucien book that tears at the heartstrings, or more of a romantic comedy with lots of banter and fluff? Or a combination?

I want a combination! I want the book to take me on an emotional ride! I want to laugh, cry, feel angry and excited, I want to swoon, cheer, I want all of the feelings! I love fluff, and angst really hits me in the heart! However, if there's angst, there better be something fluffy sweet and romantic after because my heart will rip to shreds and bleed forever otherwise! I have a feeling we're going to get a bit of everything in this book and it's going to be one of the best in the ACOTAR series. I feel there's going to be angst but also lots of moments that will have us happy and kicking our feet.

Thank you for this ask anon!! I love any chance I get to gush about my love for Elucien. They've brought me out of a bad place and brought life into my world! My fellow Eluciens have been just as awesome and I cannot wait to share all of our favorite moments together! <3

[ravenandmoon]

Worshiping lesser known/lesser worshiped deities

After reading some reaction under one of my last post, I figured I will do some post about some deities I worship. I will follow the division I have made in this post, finishing with the lesser known/worshiped deities I worship (even in a slightly/casual way).

The tricky part of this one is to define what is lesser known or worshiped deities because nowadays with all the informations we have access to, there is not so much deities considered "lesser known" but, i figured out I will put here the one I thought of.

Hephaïstos

He's the Theoi of blacksmith and craftmen, technique, fire and hearth, and also disability because He's a disable deity. I know He's not unknown but I also know He's one, if not the only one, Olympian gods who's not as much worshiped as others and I wanted to acknowledge Him for all He did (and do) for me. I pray sometimes, I acknowledge Him, I feel His fire through me. I have many UPG and hot take about Him and some part of His myths...but anyway. I just wanted to talk about Him.

If you want to include Him in your worship :

Try a new craft

Try to do something difficult for you (without hurting yourself tho, keep it safe)

Try to take some rest

Melinoë

I have a fluctuating relationship with horror stories which leads me to love praying to Melinoë because I also had issues with uncomfortable dreams and nigthmares (and nocturnal anxiety). Melinoë is the goddess of ghosts and nightmare. Now She has some pop culture reps because She's in the Hades' game but I'm not sure She is that much known.

If you want to include Her in your worship :

Read horror stories or watch a horror movie

Learn about your local history (you can be extremely local, if you live in a old building you can learn about it, places have spirits and memories too)

Honor a spirit (local, plants, ancestors...)

Kalliopê

I worship Her along with Apollon, Hermes and Dionysos. As a huge fan of fantasy novels (I read and write them), I consider Her as something close to an inspiration because She is the goddess of epic poetry and, often, there are many influences of the epic poetry into fantasy. Honestly, I don't actively worship Her but I read books for Her as a devotional act.

Asclepius and Hygeia

God of Health and Goddess of Hygiene, in myth they are describe as Father and Daughter. I really struggle with my health and my hygiene, it's really hard for me to take care of myself honestly. So when I manage to pray to them and do a little bit of stuff for my hygiene and health I often think about them (along with Aphrodite Aprhogeneia and Aphrodite Philommeides). I associate them with water and the cleansing aspect of it.

If you want to include Them (together or not) you can :

Dedicate your medecine to Them

Pray to them as motivation to make you appointement to the doctors

Ask them to bless your food or bath/shower

Hypnos and Thanatos

I wanted to mention them because it's important but sadly for now I don't actively worship Them. I tried many thing with Hypnos and it didn't really worked but just to say, they are, I think, very important to learn about as they're God of Sleep and God of Death.

Eris

Eris is a daimona, personified spirit of Discord and I don't really know if you can worship Her per se but I have to admit She is great to honor or call upon along with Ares. In time of despair, I'd always call upon Her. I love to cry and scream my rage to Her.

Zelos, Kratos, Nike and Bia

I worship them as a team, as Zeal, Strength, Victory and Force, I feel like they match with my relationship between me and how I work. I just want to be clear that no, I don't condone rivalry (also personified by Zelos) or power (also personified by Kratos and Bia) in work places, but since it already exist we sometimes have to work with that (I think it's awful). They often come in my mind when I work, I would think about how Hephaïstos help me and give me strength to make efforts and stuff but this team of daimones really personified how I understand my relationship with work. I worship them by doing my job, honestly.

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.

[yuseirra]

about marrying...

There was a magazine interview where they had Ai answer a couple of questions, and well, she didn't say no when asked if she had someone she wanted to marry. Seeing how she pictured a cute and loving family with Hikaru... I believe they really could have gotten married if things weren't this messed up.

[r3dblccd]

Chat, how many benefits of the doubt do I give someone that keeps kind of ghosting me

[orchideae]

My apologies for the short absence, I (still) tend to disappear a bit during the beginning of each month due to every payment in the book coming out of me at that time. So as that happens and I ensure all is tended to, I become a bit of a social hermit on Discord and am mostly hiding in Genshin.But please know that I've seen DMs and will be getting to them as I slowly re-emerge, but please know I'm not ignoring anyone! Also, also, Fontaine's AQ is hands-down my favorite out of all of them.

Focalors (and Furina) is immensely well-written and I'm so, very insanely impressed with Hoyo's writing for her. Holy shit. Also, the fact this happened in the region that's inspired by France and Britain to some extent? Of course, why wouldn't it? But also, the light foreshadowing from previous nations, the continuous and built-on talk of sacrifice for humanity, for the sovereigns? But even on top of that, we're in the nation of hydro. Cryo is obviously the element that pulls on the heartstrings because of obvious characters like Wriothesley and Kaeya, but has no one ever looked at the hydro characters? Dedication and devotion, responsibility, selflessness, and even-sacrifice, they all stand at the very core of each character. Meshing that in with the inspiration used for the nation, the foreshadowing from especially Sumeru— self-sacrifice was kind of in the cards all along.

But honestly, in terms of execution? Chef's kiss, chef's kiss.

[bri-does-art]

Hi, just popping in to say I'm alive, still working on the next chapter and those ask responses, everything's good. |'D In case anyone was worried!

[balladetto]

🌟 ― i love how you portray your muse(s) 🎀 ― i love your aesthetic / graphics 💯 ― your headcanon posts are always on point ✨ ― i love the way you write 💫 ― i enjoy writing with you 💖 ― you seem like a genuinely nice person ☀️ ― your posts always bring me joy ❤️ ― you're one of my favorite blogs 🌺 ― simply admiring you from afar

help it was difficult not to send most sOB hiiiii i still think of tulin & teba and hold them close to my heart :>

small symbols of kindness / @volcania

[tearing up] apolo i think this may be a bit unfair when the best i can do in the face of it is throw all these sentiments back at you?! HELLO?? thank you dearly, this means so gosh darn much to me!! 🥺 i adore the thought you put into your muses and their backstories and motivations, especially with how time might shape them! tulin and teba are also my beloveds, and i hope we might be able to find some more beloveds in this coming year!!

[monster-noises]

I think it will/would be best for me if, over just posting regularly little snuppets of my OC's, my Comics get popular and I can kinda like.. be a step removed from the people who read them

Because i want people to enjoy my oc's but i don't think i could handle people sending me unsolicited asks and messages about their Headcanons for My little guys

And I realise posting a comic instead of just About my Oc's in sort of contextly chunks won't Stop this behaviour but i feel like i could somehow put up better bounderies that way..

[fridayyy-13th]

siiiiiigh.

[skidrowflorist]

hi! i used to write under suddcnlyseymour (i used ethan slater and then later marc antolin as a FC) and i just wanted to say - i really loved writing with you - i went back recently to re-read our threads and it made my heart hurt (in a good way.) i adore your interpretation of audrey, the depth and consideration and care you give to her character. i hope that you're doing okay! i hope life is treating you kindly <3

ooc;; hey!! yes of course i remember you!! i always loved writing with your seymour, and i'm so happy to hear from you!! i'm hanging in there, living life, loving lsoh. i think of you often and hope that you're doing well too. tbh i miss your blog lots! it means so much that you found me out here again and wanted to go back and read our old threads. thank you so much for your kind words, man. i try my best for audrey and it makes me so happy to hear my portrayal has stuck with you in a positive way. :) seconded on the heart hurting - we wrote some pretty tender, sweet stuff if i do say so myself. and listen, if i could ever do anything to spark up the ol' seymour muse for you, i would in a heartbeat lmao

[hedgehog-moss]

I need to confess something—my last post presented a deceptively idyllic vision of my hike in the snow. I only posted photos from the tranquil walk home at dusk and neglected to mention that I (once again) got lost in a featureless expanse of snow and briefly became convinced I would never find the road again and would have to dig a little den like an Arctic fox to spend the night.

You see, there's this place where Pandolf really loves to go for a walk on snowy days—it's on top of this plateau here:

^ see the fence in the middle, that curves to the left? Nothing bad can happen as long as you follow it. There are lots of landmarks in this direction, like trees, more fences, and a couple of houses.

In the other direction, however, lies The Nothing.

Here's a photo of Pandolf (eagerly) standing near the edge of The Nothing:

Characteristics of The Nothing: it is vast, and white, and becomes more and more featureless the farther you go into it—

—and Pandolf really, really loves it.

Even when he falls into a surprise hole where the snow is suddenly three times as deep (another characteristic of The Nothing), he'll just push himself out in one great powerful jump and keep frolicking.

Or he'll remain in the spot where the snow is deeper and try his best to bury his entire self into it.

He sometimes gets crazy eyes in The Nothing.

We always start this walk with such good resolutions.

We're definitely staying close to the fence this time! With all the lovely landmarks on the left!

And then, inevitably,

Further notes from my studies: • The Nothing has some small plants and rocks, but using them as landmarks is foolish, as they will eventually disappear. • No matter how many foot-, paw-, and dog-headprints you leave and how deep they are, they will disappear before you are able to retrace your steps, probably because The Nothing is always so windy.

Pandolf thinks this is a great characteristic of The Nothing, as it means he never runs out of immaculate snow to dive into.

The wind and the resulting snow mist are the really treacherous things about this place. These photos were taken in roughly the same spot, a couple of hours apart. In the first one, the fence on the left is clearly visible; in the second one, it has started to melt into The Nothing.

There's always a moment when I end up standing in the middle of, well, nothing, with indistinguishable whiteness in every direction, under my feet, above my head, left, right, and I start thinking about writing poignant farewell messages in my Notes app for my family to find at some point in the future.

One last interesting thing about The Nothing is the way Pandolf reacts when I finally find my bearings again and start walking faster, determined to get back to the safety of the road before it gets dark.

Pandolf then just

It's very different than the playful, energetic way in which he normally buries his head in the snow. This second type of burying is clearly a form of protest—if I continue walking away Pan will reluctantly follow me for 20 or so metres, then flatten himself to the ground again, in the same despondent way.

Hypothesis #1: He is trying to play dead like a possum, hoping I will go "well, I can't lug a dead dog all the way home, I'd better leave him here." And then he'll stay with The Nothing forever.

Hypothesis #2: He is trying to lay as flat as possible so as to become all but invisible against the snow. It's unclear if he knows he is the wrong colour for this.

Hypothesis #3: He is trying to commune with The Nothing, burying words of devotion and friendship deep into the snow and promising to return soon.

Conclusion: I'm sorry, I know that's a very long post, but seeing as each of these photos depicts perfect felicity on Earth, I find it hard to delete any. I also like how I intended this post to be about my long disoriented trek through the snow, wondering if I was going to find the fence or the road again before dark—and then I got distracted by how happy Pandolf was. Which is exactly how I end up getting lost in The Nothing every single time!!

[ssahotchnerr]

possible idea for married hotch since you asked for requests😋 (and cause i love your writing)

maybe one where he gets injured and with the rest of the bau he’s just brushing it off but when wifey pulls up? different story.

he’s just all 🥺🥺 at her and the team is like wtaf?

also can i be 🌊 anon pretty please?

healing touches

i love that 🥺🥺🤕 cw; bau fem!reader, established relationship (hehe they're soooo in love), injury/blood descriptions, aaron being stubborn🙄, playful banter, fluff <333

The first SUV arrived back at the police department after apprehending the unsub. Morgan, JJ and Prentiss walked inside, pulling their vests off in sync.

You might have been mistaken, but their gazes immediately locked onto you as they removed their protective gear. Their stares were almost unsettling, as if they knew something you didn’t, and were waiting to see the rest unfold. Unease filled you from head to toe.

"Hey," you stacked a few files together, placing them down. "How'd it go? Did you get him?"

"Yeah, 'course we did." Morgan sauntered over, dropping his vest onto the table with a thud.

"Well," Emily added, a slight grimace on her face. "Not without putting up a relentless fight. It wasn't pretty, I'll tell you that."

A bad feeling formed in your gut. Even Spencer's attention was gained, his head lifting from his book.

"What do you me-"

Your words were interrupted by Aaron and JJ walking in. JJ, perfectly fine. Aaron on the other hand, was moving at a much slower speed than normal, definitely banged up with a fair amount of blood present on his face.

Your eyes widened in alarm, meeting him halfway.

"Oh my god, Aaron. Are you okay?" You immediately unstrapped his vest for him, tucking it under your arm. The lessening pressure seemed to help some, light tension lifting from his body.

Your hand raised to cup his jaw, moving it gently to observe the damage. There was definitely a developing bruise underneath his right eye, his forehead and cheek were both littered with scrapes of all shapes and sizes. Aaron winced when his head reached a particular angle, and it wasn't a subtle wince either. It was a startling jolt, agonizing pain obvious.

But it was at your touch, and your presence, that his eyes softened. The stagnant sharpness dissolving as he looked at you with a tenderness that was almost too raw to hide. You pulled back to get a better look at him as whole, ensuring he was fully intact.

"He's 'fine', in case you were wondering. Only told us 'bout a million times." Morgan added air quotes, sitting down and kicking his feet onto the table. "Refused medical attention, even."

"Manners." You swatted his foot, causing him to lower them before turning back to Aaron. You tutted at him softly, "You did? After that lil stunt you just pulled?"

"Well... I guess it is starting to hurt more now."

"I wonder why," JJ commented humorously under her breath, hiding her smile with her palm. Additionally, Emily and Derek gave him a look.

You quickly reached into your bag, riffling through it until you found your handy tube of Neosporin. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

Aaron didn't argue, didn't utter a single word as he followed you to the bathroom like a lost puppy. Once inside the small space you maneuvered him back against the sink, washing your hands next.

"That was stupid of you." You wet a paper towel, dabbing his cuts and ridding of any dry blood, once again causing him to flinch at the touch. You pulled the towel away, pausing a moment, before resuming gently. "Even if you think you're not in need of getting checked out, please do, for my sake at least. I'd like my husband to stay in one piece if possible."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

"We were clearing the grounds and he managed to catch me by surprise," Aaron huffed out, evidently annoyed at himself. "I should have seen it coming. Seen him in the shadows, reacted faster."

"Baby, you may think you have the invincibility of Superman, but you don't. You're human, it's okay to miss things every once and a while." You reassured him softly, tossing the towel aside and moving onto the Neosporin. After dabbing some onto your index finger, you began blotting it thoroughly onto the cuts. "Which I'm fine with, by the way, you're much better looking."

"Yeah?" A laugh escaped Aaron, but his chuckle was interrupted by the twinge in his ribcage, the entirety of it shooting up in pain.

"I'm sorry," you gasped gently, guilt sweeping through you.

"It's fine, 'm fine." He breathed out through his teeth, his jaw clenching momentarily, until the pain subsided. "I'm okay sweetheart. Now c'mon, your face is far too pretty to look that worried."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, eyes frantically searching his face.

"Really. So I'm a little bruised up, I've been through far worse."

You sighed, not entirely convinced. "Fine. But when we get home tomorrow," your eyes narrowed slightly, pointing the Neosporin at him as a 'threat'. "You're resting. Come hell or high water."

"Deal."

"I'm happy you're okay." Suddenly emotional, tears dared to spill from your eyes. They stalled at your waterline, completely blurring your vision. You hated to see him in pain, and the reminder of past events didn't help. "Don't scare me like that."

"C'mere," Aaron raised his arms, gesturing for you to come close.

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"Come here."

You took a step forward, not raising your arms to potentially inflict pain, but rest your body against his. Your face found home in the crook of his neck, while his arms did wrap around you. Not as tight as usual, but enough to hold you and not hurt.

"I'm fine," he kissed the side of your head. "And I have my girl to thank for that. Although, you did miss a spot."

"I did? Where?" You pulled back, beginning to unscrew the tube's cap but Aaron's hand stopped you.

"Right here." He pointed to his lips, playing up the 'anguish' in his eyes. "Hurts real bad."

Your lips tugged into a smile, leaning in and offering him a short, sweet kiss.

"That's all I get?"

You playfully rolled your eyes before giving his lips another quick kiss. He chased your lips, but you pulled back, keeping just out of reach.

"Want a longer one? Get medical attention next time."