#twin sister is not very much twinning this time
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THE CURSE OF CURIOSITY.
Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader
"While your brother searches the library of the Dragonkeeper Elder for something new to read, you come in contact with some unlabeled fluid. You both learn that it's something meant to aid in the breeding of dragons, however, it also has a unique effect on humans. But lucky for you, your twin is there to help you through the ordeal."
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, dub con, sex pollen (rather fluid lol), p in v, breeding kink
WORDS: 4 K
NOTES: Hope you enjoy me having literally zero grasp on English. 🤭
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
“It’s far too late for us to be here,” you huff, almost annoyed, as you watch Aemond graze his fingers along the spines of the several books kept in the currently deserted chambers of the Dragonkeeper Elder. “What are we looking for here anyways?”
The room is barely lit by anything else than just a handful of candles. Your twin holds a lantern of some sort in one hand, using it to make out the writings that are carved on the books backs.
When there doesn’t immediately come an answer from him, you start to slowly walk around the room, inspecting its decor. “I have exhausted the castle’s libraries, and hope to take something of their collection for my own,” he murmurs, carefully selecting two books.
You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. Although you’re just a few moments younger than him, sharing the same attributes with your long, silver hair and lilac eyes, you have a much gentler nature than he does, one that doesn’t lend itself to the same mischief you had pursued together as children anymore.
“And you couldn’t have just taken Floris with you? You ought to wed, and doing something together would do no harm to your future union. One sparsely sees you two around court,” you note, slightly annoyed your brother chose to wake you instead of his betrothed.
Knowing all too well that just the mention of the betrothal is going to set him off, you choose to play with fire. If your brother wants your company, he’ll have to put up with your teasing. And just like expected, the notion of being forced into a marriage he doesn’t want to be in irritates him, audible in the sigh he releases. His resentment of the situation has become worse over time as he feels more and more suffocated by the ordeal.
“The girl is as dull as stones. Besides,” he replies with a shrug, “she knows nothing about our family’s history, much less about dragons.” The topic of dragons is something your twin is very passionate about, and you know that the fact that his wife-to-be cares so little about his passion infuriates him. It might be one of the main reasons for his dislike of her. “I have no desire to have Floris at my side any more than she does me.”
His annoyance is palpable, but you don’t feel bad about making it worse. For all the hours he has spent teasing, taunting and annoying you while you grew up together, he gets it back twice and three times over. And although he hasn’t spoken it out loud, you know you’re one of the few people he trusts blindly to be himself around.
“That aside, it would be foolish to read with Floris,” he continues, your silence coaxing him to speak more, “as all she does is gossip with her friends and prattle on about pointless nonsense. You of all people know best how I feel about this match.”
“Floris isn’t so bad, you know,” you defend with a low voice. “And you’ve barely tried to get to know her. Surely you can find at least one thing to like about her. If you did, you might just see she’s not as terrible as you’ve decided.” If you both have to spend your days withering away in marriages sealed by your father and mother, you at least could find a little solace knowing your twin wasn’t as miserable in his.
Aemond sighs in frustration. “You sound just like mother,” he comments dryly, finally moving to look at you from over his shoulder. “Can you really say that you like her? She is dull and naive. I am certain I couldn’t find anything to like about her even if I had all night. There is nothing for me to like about her. Nothing at all.”
Finding yourself at somewhat of a loss of words at this, you open and close your mouth without any words leaving it. Part of you wants to disagree with your twin, as Floris hasn’t been entirely unpleasant to spend time with at court, which makes Aemond’s dislike for her appear entirely without reason to you. On the other hand, you’ve known your brother long and well enough to know when he is resolute about something.
“Just promise me that you won’t be a terrible husband to her. Even if you don’t like her, don’t make your lifes awful,” you finally blurt out.
As you allow your gaze to trail through the chambers once more, you spot some small vessels standing lined up on the desk in the far corner with books and scrolls littered around them. You don’t wait for Aemond to reply as you make your way over, determined to inspect the small containers. The liquid inside of them resembles milk of the poppy, although it’s slightly more permeable to light when you hold it to one of the candles.
You hardly think about the dangers coming with it when you open the lid to inhale a whiff of the fluid. Not smelling entirely unpleasant, it still has you scrunching your nose as a slight burning grows prominent in your nose and throat.
Placing the vessel back down rather quickly, it stands too close to the edge of the desk. You’re not quick enough as it falls to the ground with a clatter, the vessel shattering into pieces and the pale liquid spreading across the floor.
“By the Seven,” you mumble, sinking to the ground to collect some of the larger shards.
The sound of breaking glass and your sighing is enough to catch your brother's attention again. Where he has read the spines of the books before, he makes his way over to the source of the commodation now. “You shouldn’t have dropped that,” he comments dryly, which prompts you to shoot him a heated glare. “Oh, you don’t say, mh?” you reply, your voice laced with sarcasm.
Reaching for another shard, you pull your hand back with a hiss when it cuts your finger. “Ouch!” you exclaim and rise to your feet, soon enough spotting the crimson oozing out of the cut.
Despite his annoyance at your clumsiness, Aemond’s good eye is drawn to the cut you have given yourself. It’s no deep wound, but even the hint of your blood makes something akin to guilt bubble in his stomach. “What were you doing with that?” he inquires, as he takes your hand to inspect your finger, nodding towards the vessels still standing on the desk.
You watch him twist and turn your hand to have the perfect look of the wound, the stinging pain suddenly not too bad with his warm skin on yours. “I… I just wanted to see what they keep here. It is unusual for anyone other than the maesters to store unmarked liquids,” you reply, hissing as Aemond pinches the cut finger a tad too tightly. “I shall see Maester Mellos. Mayhaps this needs stitching.”
“That’s an excellent idea.”
Aemond fetches the books he has chosen from the collection, holding them under his arm as he brings the other to you to place a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the Dragonpit.
On your request, the cut on your finger is stitched by Maester Mellos, although he has voiced that it wasn’t quite necessary. But something tells you the opposite, especially when you catch him staring at your face and checking your temperature more than once. “Is everything alright, maester?” you ask him with a soft voice, a yawn following.
Aemond towers over the both of you, carefully watching each move of the needle in the elder’s hands, just waiting for him to make a wrong move that’s meant to hurt you – he’s familiar with being stitched up after all.
The maester seems to be out of his mind, and only reacts as he hears you say his name. “Maester Mellos?”
His eyes are wide, but he nods quickly. “Yes… yes, princess. The wound should be able to heal calmly now.”
He is quick to pack his utensils up again, and even faster to leave your chambers at once. And while Aemond hurries after the old man, trying to catch up on him outside of your chambers, you don’t wait for any of them to return again with sleep coming over you.
The crackling of the fireplace is the only thing audible when you stir awake, a sheen of sweat covering your skin, making your nightgown cling to it uncomfortably. Your body feels as though it’s on fire when you squirm from one side to the other, not finding back to sleep. A tingling spreads in your loins, and each time your thighs squeeze together, it surges up your spine.
“Gods be good,” you whine, utterly bewildered with the feeling of liquid fire coursing through your veins.
Aemond not so silently rises from one of the chairs close to the fireplace, and comes closer to the bed, though, careful not to startle or frighten you as you regain your bearings. He has hoped you’d sleep through the entire ordeal and wake up as if nothing has happened, but that hope slowly dissipates with each passing moment.
“How are you feeling?” your twin asks, concern in his voice. Suddenly, hearing his voice allures you, and doesn’t diminish the burning at the apex of your legs.
As you clench your thighs together again, it releases some of the tension your body holds, and makes you whine in despair. “Aemond…” you pant, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”
The thin sheets covering your body do little to conceal what is happening beneath, and your brother just assumes it’s your way of trying to suppress your bodily urges ignited by the pale liquid you came in contact with before.
“I…” his usual confidence and boldness completely deserts him at the state you’re in, and he can barely find the words to tell you what he’s been told by Maester Mellos.
As he watches you writhe and writhe about on the bed, he’s unsure of how much longer he can just stand there and do nothing. But his concern and love for you cause him to make the decision to act, approaching you and reaching out to grasp your hands.
At the contact, the feeling of his warm hands fully engulfing yours, it’s like something overcomes your mind and body, luring you in to move, staring up at him with wide eyes as you sit on your haunches. “Dohaeragon nyke… kostilus,” you whimper, strands of your silver hair clinging to the damp sides of your face. “Ziry ōdrikagon.. sīr bāne. Nyke sepār – dohaeragon nyke, lēkia.” Yet you don’t quite know what exactly you’re begging for. Help me… please. It hurts… so hot. I just – help me, brother.
In the dim light of the candles, you spot his eye widening as you shift and squirm, looking up at him in such a vulnerable state with your innocent eyes, pleading for him to help you through your ordeal although you have no idea of what’s wrong with you right now. He can’t help but notice how your hair clings to your skin, seeming as if you’ve just bathed, and that your movements seem to contribute to its dampness.
“Mellos has told me what the fluid is that the Elder keeps in his chambers,” he states, trying to stay calm and not let your state affect him too much.
But with his proximity, all effort of you to process what he’s saying is fruitless. You pull on his hands, as if you want to encourage him to join you in bed, and when he doesn’t budge, you rise on your knees, and start to fidget with the buttons of his coat – solely driven by your urges. “And that is?” you mumble, not really listening.
His cheeks run hot when you start to undo the buttons, and his hands capture yours once again to put a stop to it, making you pout. With furrowed brows, his grip finally has you looking up at him. “It’s something used to aid in breeding the dragons,” Aemond states. “He told me it’s also used to increase their stamina and to make them more…” he trails off, his body slowly growing tense as the implication of what he’s going to say settles into his mind. “... receptive to breeding.”
“Mh–Mh,” you hum almost nonchalantly, and watch completely mesmerized as your fingers graze along his, the warmth and softness of his skin only intensifying the tingling in your loins. Aemond is hesitant, unsure whether or not what you’re doing is entirely due to the potion’s effect, or if there is genuinely some desire for him on your part.
You lick your lips and free your hands from Aemond’s to shrug the opened coat off his shoulders. The fabric of his tunic is pinched between your fingers as you tug on it once again to beg for him to join you. With him taking his sweet time, you find yourself clenching your thighs every now and then to soothe the aching burning at the apex of them.
“He also informed me that ‘tis necessary for someone to… help you through it,” he murmurs quietly, his voice almost sounding shaky as he speaks, “... for it will burn you from the inside out if not.”
Even though you’re fully acting on your body's desires, you do notice the way his widened eye trails down to your thighs, lingering there for a moment before it returns to yours.
You don’t give a verbal response to his words, and instead, your only reactions are subtle ones. Nodding your head slowly, as if you’ve understood what he is implying, your hands squeeze his tunic further into his chest. He can practically see your body tensing with each movement of your fingers, almost as if you’re trying to hold back.
With your eyes firmly locked with his now, you slowly trail your hands beneath his tunic, pushing it up to remove that as well from his body to get further access to him – if it wasn’t for him not raising his arms.
Exhaling a deep breath, you sit back on your haunches. His reluctance does little to quell the fire raging within you, no, it only fuels to make you even more desperate. The lacey hem of your nightgown rides up your thighs as you spread them, and fully exposes your undergarments the moment you bring your hand between your legs. A breathy whimper falls past your lips as your fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt, and then something akin to mischief flickers in your lilac eyes.
“And… will you help me, brother? Or shall I ask Jacaerys for help instead? We ought to wed in a moon's turn after all,” your voice is honeyed as you speak, dripping with feigned innocence. “But you don’t want that, do you? That’s why you’ve stayed.”
You spot the exact moment his breath hitches in his throat. He suddenly feels a wave of heat overcoming him, your words triggering something in him that is more than just the usual desire to protect his younger sister, something primal. You sound and look so vulnerable asking for his help, secretly begging for him and him only.
Intertwining your fingers with his, the intensity of your grip increasing as your senses become more heightened, your twin finally moves as you pull him onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as you watch him come closer, and when he is close enough, you reach and pull him down onto you in a quick motion. You don’t waste a second more and lock your lips with his, your hand slowly traveling down his back. But before you can grab his tunic and pull it over his head, Aemond pushes you back to lie flatly on the bed, pinning your wrists above your head. His eye burns with hunger as he gazes down at you, visible even in the dim light, and it makes you yearn for more.
“Well, if I chose to leave you here to your own devices, would you crawl to your betrothed for help? I do not think so,” he says, his voice taking over a mocking tone. “No, in fact, I’m certain you would come to my chambers instead.”
When he doesn’t touch you, you try to wrap your legs around his body to grind yourself against him, but Aemond is quick to catch your hip with one hand, keeping your body still as it's pinned to the mattress.
“Sir, dohaeragon nyke,” you beg, voice shaky enough it comes close to a whimper. But when you notice that speaking in the tongue of your ancestors is not having any effect on him at all, you choose to coax him to tend to you in the Common Tongue. “Touch me, Aemond. Help me… please.” Now, help me.
Aemond is silent for a moment, visibly dragging his eye over your squirming frame. One hand still holds your wrists above your head, while the other slowly but surely releases your hip. “I shall take care of you,” he reassures you. “But you will have to let me, do you understand?”
You gaze up at him with wide eyes and slowly nod your head, only for you to pounce on him the moment your wrists are released. The tunic is gone as soon as your body collides with his, causing a strained gasp to leave your twin’s lips. While just the thoughts of his warm skin on yours have incite your mind already, seeing his bare chest sets your body alight.
His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and he has never treated you as roughly as he does when he pushes you off of him. It leaves you dumbfounded for a moment, more so when he moves between your parted legs, towering over you.
“Look how dull this fluid has made you,” he mocks, the condescending tone of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. Aemond notices that you’re not shying away from him, no, you keen at that. “Just because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“If I help you,” he warns, “no one else, let alone that bastard of a nephew, is ever allowed to touch you again, do you understand?”
It might be the liquid-induced state, or the despair to have him do anything to you already, but you’re far too eager to nod at his words.
Aemond’s hand wanders below the hem of your nightgown to heartily fist your undergarments and peel them off of you. He can already feel that the linen is soaked with your arousal, but still can’t stop himself from licking his lips as he sees your now exposed cunt glistening in the light of the candles.
“Now, we do not want you to suffer any longer, hm?” he asks.
And you nod once again. “Gods, yes, please. I need you, Aemond.”
You don’t have to beg him any longer. He undoes the laces in the front of his breeches and pulls out his throbbing cock, painfully hard and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s slightly curved and thick, and if you have to guess, you’d say that you need both hands to pleasure him, and even then there’d still be a bit of him that would be left abandoned.
Aemond wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance, pushing into you as you both moan in unison. You don’t expect him to set up a merciless pace almost immediately upon fully bottoming out, but you’re not disappointed either.
While you’ve been able to talk before, he’s quickly reduced you to a whimpering and whining mess, relishing in the delicious burning of accommodating his sheer size.
“Does it help?” your twin asks through gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep his sounds of pleasure at bay. But you’ve been fucked into a stupor by him already, not even able to keep your eyes open. “Mh-mh,” you hum.
Putting some of his weight onto you, Aemond’s hand finds your throat like the most treasured necklace you only take off to sleep, taking up the entirety of your neck and leaving no room for you to shift even the slightest.
It was subtle at first, but the merciless pace slowly changes into something more determined, his hips rolling with each thrust as if he wants to make sure the tip of his cock really brushes your sweet spot every time. He’s seemingly spurred on by the way you’ve lost all inhibitions, not that the fluid allowed you to have any in the first place, and the wanton moans that spill past your lips.
One of your hands grabs his wrist, keeping his hand around your throat, while the other finds solace on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Your nails dig into his alabaster skin, and you’re sure that crescent shaped marks will bloom there not long after, staking your claim on him.
“But you need more,” Aemond grunts, and you can’t do more than whimper a pathetic string of yesses. “The only thing that will truly help you is for me to fill you up with my seed, to breed you.”
Your head tips back in plain bliss, and you’re not sparing one thought to the possible repercussions of him putting a child in you. If anything, there is something buried deeply inside of you that has waited for this moment. You have waited for this moment. You grew up thinking you’d marry your twin one day, only for the rising tensions inside of the family to force you to marry your nephew instead as the final straw to mend the chasm.
Aemond’s stamina doesn’t seem to be able to handle the way your body reacts to him and his words – not when a renewed wave of your arousal drips from your cunt at the mere thought of you carrying his child. It’s running thin, ready to burst at any given moment, hence he brings a deft finger to your pearl, rubbing it with frantic movements that should bring you to peak just in time with him.
The pressure brought to your pearl has your body squirming, not anticipating it and the shiver of pleasure that comes with it. You arch your back and moan, yet a tight squeeze of your throat is enough to bring your attention back to him.
“Do you want that?” he pants, dark blown eyes fixed with yours. “Want me to put a babe in you?” It might be his way to ask for your reassurance, and while your body’s reaction should be enough with your walls clenching around him so tightly, he stills wants to hear your voice.
Your cheeks grow hot as his words finally seem to settle in your hazed mind, a whiny ‘yes’ slipping past your lips. “Fill me up, Aemond… please. I want it,” you all but beg, your voice croaked with him squeezing your throat.
The confession flips a switch inside of you that allows you to let go, your body shattering beneath Aemond with a pathetic whine. He relishes in the way your walls flutter and spasm all over him, utterly mesmerized as relief etches itself into your features.
With a groan, the first wanton sound of pleasure you’ve heard of him, Aemond spends himself inside of you. He connects your lips in a heated kiss that has you swallowing down each grunt and groan he unleashes. Working you both through the blissful highs, his hips only stop once he’s sure he’s fucked his seed as deep as possible, determined to put a child in you.
Aemond topples over into the vacant space next to you, his breeches soaked with your arousal and his chest heaving with his breaths.
The sudden loss of friction makes you whine at first, but is quickly overshadowed by the feeling of relief. “Thank you,” you whisper through heavy breaths, turning your head to look at him.
“I won’t leave now,” he says softly, although there is a linger of mischief in his voice. “I would be remiss not to aid my sister in her hour of utmost desperation… so, I shall stay the night just to make sure you really get through it.”
Aemond Taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu @legitalicat
#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction#aemond x reader#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#aemond x fem!reader#aemond stannies#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond smut#aemond fic#aemond imagine#hotd x y/n#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd fanfic#hotd imagine#hotd fic#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic
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More dragons.
Ghoul's beloved twin sister Ghost, she’s obviously also a night/icewing, she’s much more distant and quiet than her brother, she’s observant, clever and stubborn. She always curls her tail around Ghoul cuz she has anxiety and contact with her twin makes her feel calm. Both siblings paint a lot, especially together, they can communicate telepathically which makes that easier.
My Boy Neon is a Silk/Rainwing, he’s clever, flirtatious and overall charismatic, his looks help with that obviously, but he speaks in a way that makes other wann listen to him. He can inject a venom that makes the affected area feel, tingly and later numb, he’s a student currently and having the time of his life.
OGs may recognize Mosaic, he’s Sea/Rainwing, he’s one of my very first wof ocs and very similar to Neon in terms of personality but kinder and a little less flirtatious, his venom is also incredibly dangerous, it destroys the nervous system within minutes, he himself is immune to it and other venomous. He lived happily with his parents before attending the Academy and becoming a student there. He still regularly write letters to them.
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I'm sorry to ask but I'm DYING for some Souya content 😭🙏 Do you have any?? Mainly preferably x reader headcannons?? Thanks so much
Sure, these are all the ones I have for him with a partner!
Loves to bring you flowers home, sometimes he'll stop by a florist after work and other times he'll pick a pretty looking one for you. He just loves to see your face when he gives them to you.
Makes a birthday cake for you each year (or at least tries to)
He texts you about the weather a lot, reminding you to bring an umbrella or scarf depending on the conditions.
Though if you do forget something then he'll happily let you borrow his. Will let himself get wet in the rain while he holds the umbrella over you.
Admires your wedding rings a lot after getting married, he likes to remember what they represent.
Even after getting married, he frequently asks your permission before kissing you or holding your hand. It's very sweet.
Smiley calls you "sis" or "sister" a lot
Takes a lot of pictures of you
His lock screen is a picture of you smiling brightly, seeing it makes him happy
He's very careful to not make decisions without you, he knows what it's like to not get much of a say so he takes what you want into consideration a lot.
He doesn't know it but his eyes light up whenever he sees you.
Gives you a lot of blue themed jewellery
Did his best to hold it together when he saw you in your wedding dress but a tear still ended up slipping out.
Really likes holding your hand as the two of you go places. He instinctively grabs it a lot.
The first present he ever gives you is a plushie
Is very attentive and quick to notice things about you
Doesn't hesitate to give you his jacket when it's cold
Invites you to the twins restaurant often to spend more time with you (Smiley sometimes tells him to work harder instead of flirting)
Always texts to make sure you got home safe
His favourite place for dates are aquariums and zoos, he likes holding your hand as the two of you wander around.
Asks you to come listen to his band when they play
Enjoys just quietly laying in bed with you, both of you relaxing and enjoying each others company.
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Do you think Ariane ever wanted her mom? Like because when we’re in pain, or scared or really anything we tend to want our mothers, so it’d be natural for Ariane to want her mother. GOD I IMAGINED IN ARIANES LAST MOMENTS BEFORE THE BIORESONANCE THING SHE WAS CRYING FOR HER MOM
Now that got me thinking, what about the replikas?? Do they long for the neural pattern’s mothers even though they’re not biologically their child?? When they destabilise I mean, like imagine a dying STAR on the battlefield calling out for her neural patterns mom oh my days
You guys cannot convince me ariane did not want her mom, especially with how she was raised I would reckon they had a very close bond. I wish there was more stuff surrounding ariane’s mom and even the itou twins mom like who is she?? Anja Itou or Lilith itou?? I would think Anja, because Lilith never had a male lover (that we know of) but she had Alina. Lilith being a possible older sister to them seems like a much more likely scenario than their mother, and personally on how lilith’s personality is shown (this is with the theory that she’s Elsters neural pattern) she probably would not want kids
And if the case was that Lilith was their mom, realistically then, Elster would’ve most likely atleast had some more instinct to protect isa— meanwhile with a sibling you really don’t have that urge (unless their like a baby) and honestly, I think Lilith and the twins wouldn’t of known each other for that long. Lilith would’ve been just a faded memory from childhood [if I’m correct on the timing of when Lilith might’ve been put into whatever they do to the replika neural pattern and that she is Elsters neural pattern] I mean, the faint possibility of her being the twins mother is that if Alina was their second mother, but that doesn’t make sense: Ariane is often portrayed as a ‘clone’ in a way of Alina, looking almost exact same as her. So why would Alina be their second mom? And it wouldn’t be possible because Alina was in the sierpenski as we know it,
So that would leave Anja to be their mother, Lilith? Maybe a cousin or older sister. Looking at Isa (assuming that Erika looks basically the same) she looks like she would relate to Lilith but not in a mother and daughter way; more like a cousins or sisters way. And What is the deal with Alina?? Is she just meant to be Lilith’s lover, or does Ariane end up being like some reincarnation of her? Or is Alina in retrospect just made to be that person Ariane triggers Elsters neural pattern memories with? But that would make her character practically basic if she only had one purpose. But I can’t figure out what she’s even here for, maybe she doesn’t really have a purpose? Some characters in fiction might not have proper purpose but they’re very important to plot I think,
Oh the ariane having acute radiation syndrome, she would be in SO much worse of state in reality, burns everywhere only getting worse, skin cells dying, even her bone marrow [i forgot if this parts correct shh] possibly started to degrade [I think I’m thinking of chromosomes], her teeth falling out, her organs dying from the inside out, losing absolute control over her own bodily fluids, I understand that it’s probably for creepy affect with her very basic black arms and legs to show nercotic skin but realistically ariane would’ve been dead much sooner when the radiation kicked in, even with the cryo medical pod. We all know of the person who had severe radiation poisoning, he died after a long battle. Considering Ariane would’ve practically be begging Elster— if Elster didn’t die first, because to me atleast, Replikas much more fragile when it comes to things like radiation, excluding MNHR units. They would start to degrade faster than a human would,
Ariane would be in so much pain, her skin wouldn’t even turn black it’d fall off exposing muscle and nerves. And her hair doesnt make sense, when someone has that much radiation and Ariane probably got out through so much more radiation, her hair would’ve fallen OUT, not grown. She would’ve looked like a burned mummy, and most likely. Elster wasn’t Alive to see any of Ariane’s true pain, yet Ariane probably would’ve still chosen the Penrose program. Why? Because hearing how sierpenski is that shit is SCARY. But also, we all know of Ariane’s bullying on rotfront. With how much she was getting bullied [I heard she even got put in hospital temporarily?? Idk if that’s right] she would of course pick that option. It’s like giving someone the option to choose: Go to school for years, Go for a year and get all of your diplomas immediately [of course it’s not a accurate comparison but shut up]
Bullying fucking ruins people, from experience I wanted to leave my entire country because I got bullied so badly. I wanted to leave the planet [as in going to space], when your given a choice between going to a facility or seeing the stars? You’d the stars especially in ariane’s place. The eusan nation is strict, and rotfront was terrible to ariane. Why would she want to put herself through more??
Anyways I’m literally ariane yeong (I bleached my hair to look like her, my roots are over grown tho 🫡) also sorry for so much writing, I have no one to really yap my ideas to 😔🙏
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hellooo does anybody want to come with me to Budapest Festival next August and see BOTH BILLIE AND NIALL?
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Day 10: Free day
"wake up, sleepyhead! we're almost home."
"what? noo... i want to keep adventuring!"
"what, and miss dinner?"
#miqomarch 2024#miqomarch#ffxiv miqo'te#seeker of the sun#miqo'te#final fantasy 14#negi was a veery very sickly child#being the smaller of two twins he had a very difficult time with. well most things#but the hardest part of it all was seeing how often Arkie would leave the tribe and how he wasn't able to follow#with o'kovhi training to become a tia and his sister leaving him behind he felt very lonely for a long time#when he found Selene it helped a lot but he still missed her very much#so often she'd go out of her way to bring him back trinkets... books to read... and sometimes she'd bring him along!#not too far at first since he was still getting used to having. like. a working body#but a little day adventure never hurt anyone... right?
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IN WHICH HE HAS (ALMOST) NOTHING TO HIDE (ANYMORE)
Years after you settle down near New Godheim, your sons take part in a scheme to distract their father before the big surprise party. Unfortunately, Alkaid is observant—and his sons take after him.
— pairing: [background] [godheim] alkaid mcgrath x little painter/you
— word count: 1.4k
— tags: post-canon, birthday surprises, really domestic stuff with slight angst, children of characters
— notes: this one doesn't even have mc in it i'm crying. don't really have that big of a reason to name the twins after stars, just thought it was cute. also showing my green name-ness by making his longer than ayn's
return to lbc masterlist | series: an eventful first meeting
ALKAID IS TENDING TO HIS garden when the door to the quaint house he shares with his wife and three children creaks open.
Hushed whispers descend upon his blossoming garden, but he remains deliberately immersed in cooing over the flowers. His gloved fingers hover over, but never touch, the stems of the purple flower he once brought to life for his wife—back in the snow-buried Godheim he once called home.
Whatever silence his sons can scrounge up lasts only until someone starts shoving—from the yelping, he can guess it's Leo, the older of the two. They sort out the argument between them quickly, then wordlessly set out further into his garden.
And this is, apparently, how some siblings act, particularly if they're close in age. You've vouched for the statement with anecdotes of your school life, but even almost thirteen years later, he finds it hard to wrap his head around it.
He and Ehlonna were never so rough with each other—or at all. But then again, they could only ever dream of the only kind of childhood his sons know.
This is only another difference in a terribly long list, one he hopes will only grow longer.
"Hmm?" Alkaid pauses in his act, pretending to have only just noticed his sons' arrival. "Who is it?"
Silence greets him in return. He waits. A second becomes many, but they do not keep him waiting for long. Instead, they join him by the flowers, almost solemn in the way they gaze at his hard work.
And the way their eyebrows pinch together reminds him of you.
"And what brings the two of you here?" Resting his hands on his knees, he cranes his neck to greet them, one by one. A hint of amusement trickles into his tone. "Will you not be helping your mother this year?"
The two attempt to glance at each other. He leans back a little, disguising his short laugh as a polite cough. The remnants of a smile, however, linger long after his gloved hand retreats. Pressing the back of his bent fingers against his lips, he allows it to return to its former glory.
Behind his back, they converse wordlessly. He pretends he can't hear the rustling of their clothes as they gesture at each other.
"No," Leo huffs out. Forest green eyes narrow at him, carefully gauging his reaction. "There's no point in trying this year."
"Yeah," Sirius grumbles.
Unlike his brother, he's nearly the splitting image of his mother. The title is out of reach only because of the occasional reminders that Alkaid is his father—in the color of his eyes. In the thickness of his hair. In his love for gardening, and in his quiet perceptiveness, one that would leave him wise beyond his ears if he had been born into any other life.
"You always know what we're up to for your birthday."
Indeed, Alkaid thinks privately, settling down onto the ground, with his hands back on his knees. Without delay, his sons mimic him. Today is no different. But he'll pretend it is, though it remains to be seen if his youngest son will buy it.
"Oh," he utters instead. "You didn't get me a present?"
"Not a physical one," the blond says quickly. His words take on a biting quality at the end—the message is clear, both to his brother and to Alkaid, though it's aimed at only one of them. Say something. "We're going to do whatever you want to do, Father."
Turning his head to Leo, Alkaid pretends to think, "Well, I did plan on spending more time on the garden."
"Urk." His next words slip out through gritted teeth, not quite an affirmative, but neither is it a denial. The blond leans forward, unamused gaze pinned on his snickering brother. "Ahem, it's your birthday, Father. You should relax for the day. Somewhere far, far away from here."
"Your mother once did something similar," Alkaid says wistfully, obliviously. "How nostalgic."
In unison, with an ease that suggests much practice, the twins gag at his words. They cap it off with a bland, but insistent, "We know," having perhaps grown tired of hearing the same things over and over again.
"Have I mentioned it before?" he inquires innocently. He hasn't, by the way. Nor has he mentioned the ending, where you did manage to surprise him. Such a trick can only work so many times. "I must've forgotten."
"It's possible," Sirius agrees amiably, having recovered in remarkable time. His fingers lightly caress the soft petals of Alkaid's flowers. "It only shows how much you care about Mother. You make her tea whenever she wants and you've been growing these flowers because they remind you of her."
Less amiably, Leo grumbles, "And you've told us so many stories that we could recite them in our sleep. You and Mother both."
Alkaid smiles faintly. If that is the worst of his sins, of their sins, then surely, they're doing something right. That he has to listen to his children complain is a small price to pay.
"So, when are you going to give them to her?"
"I'm not sure," he admits.
It is the sense that he's being watched that spurs him to glance back at the kitchen window, but the curtain remains drawn, void of any silhouettes that would give the game away. He thinks of his wife, of the awkwardness that's settled into their home—a genuine mistake they don't feel equipped to fix, one that isn't even their own, not entirely.
But they should've expected it. They should've realized that people would carelessly bring Ehlonna up in front of the twins. They should've known better than to try and hide her sacrifice, her—
In that moment, the dark-haired boy nudges him, pulling his attention back onto the flowers. Carefully, a smile slots back into his pleasant expression. Alkaid unclenches his hand—and when had he done that?—and resolves to focus on the current matter at hand.
"Then, do the two of you have any ideas?"
"You'd know better," the younger blond mumbles, his spirits having noticeably dampened at the direction the conversation is taking. "You've known her for a long, long time. Longer than us, since before—"
As expected, Leo was—is—the bigger problem. And Alkaid understands it. He does. But he's allowed to hope that, one day, Leo will realize he has nothing to compensate for, even if he is a bit more withdrawn than his siblings.
A lot more withdrawn, actually.
Perhaps oblivious to the slight tension in the air, though that seems unlikely, Sirius interrupts him without a care. "Give them to her on her birthday!"
A sound option, but—
Alkaid glances at his oldest son. Lips jutting out into a pout, he glares at the unsuspecting flowers in front of him. Under the sun's warmth, his hair takes on a more golden hue, as if it was gold spun into delicate strands.
Brushing the boy's bangs out of his face, Alkaid asks, "And what about you?"
"Isn't it your birthday today?"
He holds his forehead and scowls. At his father's words? At his actions? The older blond remains uncertain. Scarlet blooms acroas the boy's cheeks, the color intensifying as his brother snickers.
Gently, Alkaid offers his younger son a rebuke.
"You're right. Why don't we change the subject then?" He chuckles, tapping his chin. A hint of amusement slips into his words; his next words come out almost song-like. "Now, what shall we talk about?"
"Anything else."
"From before you met Mother!"
As requested by his boys, the topic shifts. The garden soon forgotten, they talk about his childhood.
He talks about Zack, who he'd reunited with shortly after New Godheim had been established, who they knew as "Uncle Zack". He talks about Ehlonna, focusing on the happier memories—on stars, and how he thought she might appreciate the company.
He talks about the Archmage last, telling them close to everything but the period in between, where their relationship grew distant. Wording his sentences carefully, so that they won't look unkindly upon his mentor. Focusing on the happier bits, like the time he and Ehlonna threw him a surprise party, even though they—and the emperor, as well—knew nothing about the day of his birth.
And in the garden they remain, until the ringleader behind this surprise birthday operation comes to fetch them herself, when Alkaid utilizes his best acting skills to be nothing less than thoroughly caught off-guard.
They don't really believe him, but that's okay.
There's always next year.
#fics by aya#lovebrush chronicles#for all time#lovebrush chronicles x reader#for all time x reader#alkaid mcgrath#alkaid mcgrath x reader#lovebrush alkaid#lovebrush alkaid x reader#lbc alkaid#lbc alkaid x reader#rambles from here on ->#i worry about godheim alkaid sometimes. like. did you get to properly mourn your sister? did you?#not to the same extent of the other alkaids because uh. yeah.#this ended up being...not very fluffy...but it's domestic!!#i knew i wanted one twin to be emotionally constipated and one to be not—but leo got way more screen time rip sirius#the title is almost an artifact title because i didn't realize how much he really had to hide but like also#*looks at lars and clarence* relatively little to do with mc's circumstances (mostly common ending shenanigans)#ehlonna in hindsight sticks out as a sore spot like how do you cope with being told your aunt died for you to even be born?#and they say it so happily too like her dying was something noble!! death is death it's sad!! especially for family#sirius copes with it better because he compartmentalizes it; leo gets consumed by the thought
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Hayato's full civilian design is done!
#my art#my ocs#neo toku#tokusatsu#kamen rider#very simply dressed and practical from his time in the military#he left the city for that before he and ruriko officially were supposed to get their JUMP buckles for the first time#and came back for his own reasons just before ruri defected from gemini. so their dad's like ''son. go find and capture your sister''#which he follows without question bc he's grown accustomed to following orders over the years training w the army and ruri before that#and hayato's PISSEDDDD also for his own reasons#(he's a soldier in both codename and presentation - needs that order in his life without his sister around to keep him balanced out)#i love the twins' dynamic so much they make me cry :''))#they are everything to me in my brain i lubve themn#wish i could beam knowledge of my oc lore into people's heads so i don't have to explain it or be prompted to share it
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#SORRY THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I EVER CHOSE TO TELL JANEY ABT DIVORCE AND HIS ANSWER TOOK ME RIGHT TF OUT#like on one hand the Implications of this being the image noah has of divorce#implying his parents argument got so bad he thought his mom might send his dad to jail#but also on the other hand. the concept of divorce jail made me laugh so hard i started wheezing#it lives#haystexts.txt#its just. idk. sometimes when kid noah speaks he makes it painfully aware that hes a kid who felt pressure to grow up faster than his peers#to take on a caretaker role for his sister in place of his parents (which. his eldest daughter energy despite literally being a twin. Dude)#so while his friends r still figuring out the diff between infection/affection hes throwin around big scary words like divorce and migraines#but also his perspective on all this is very much informed by him still Being A Child#Which Leads To Funny Moments Like This
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overall it was a mess of a show and the pacing was truly terrible but it was a silly twin swap volleyball bl and it ended with kissing through a volleyball net so i really can't ask for much more
#literally so much could've been done with the twins but it's whatever i'll just create a better version in my head <3#BUT THAT SCENE WITH FIRST'S SISTER WAS SO GKDHSHFJSKS THEY WERE SO MEAN TO HER FOR NO REASON???#crying. the writers didn't have to do all that lmao that poor girl 😭#ANYWHO it was very bad but i had a good time up until the last couple eps and there were enough good moments in the finale :')#but i want y'all to know i am creating an incredible version of this show in my head. the layers the depth it would blow u away#twins the series#*
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I would argue that at least some of your current super powers are useful and great, given the superhuman speed at which you create amazing crafts!! (I would kill to be able to sew/knit/crotchet so fast)
You know, I had not considered that a superpower, but maybe I should! Speed crafting! :D Thanks, nonny!
I gotta say I like the speed crafting power a lot more than I like the "detect the presence of mint/coconut/lysol by wheezing" powers lol
#ask away!#thanks nonny!#I think everyone has their own sort of mundane super powers#one of my brother's is 'every single jacket he tries on in thrift or antique stores fits him like it's tailored to him'#my sister has a lot of weirdly identical twins in art from the 1800s#my mom can find free pianos on the side of the road#and my dad has been hit by cars as a pedestrian a weirdly large number of times#he's okay! none of the accidents were very severe? but like wtf dad are you a car magnet?????#I guess as the resident beetle magnet I have no leg to stand on there lol#I think on the more useful end of the mundane superpowers scale#is my ability to be temporarily adopted by grandparents in airports#pretty much every single time I've flown by myself I've ended up temporarily adopted. Usually by a grandma sometimes by a grandpa#and they'll check on me and make sure I have a jacket and food and someone coming to the airport to pick me up#and sometimes they walk me to my connecting flight
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also the favoritism thing is still making me so fucking mad and insane btw. im not jealous / resentful of my brother bc he deserves her love and is also burdened in his own ways by it and bc i think my drama w my mom has shaped my life in profound ways and given me friends i cherish and i would never trade any of that for the world but jesus fucking christ. why do i have to beg you to interact with me like a mother. why do i have to talk to me at all beyond asking me to do you 847439473 favors a day. why do i have to beg you to take an interest in my life and apologize when you hurt me and be nurturing and perceptive for once in your fucking life. like it hurts to hear her asking him about his classes and whatever bc she didn’t think i was stressed out w school but i had to talk to a ****** hotline last decemver when i couldn’t take it anymore and my mental health was crashing and burning and it doesn’t even fucking matter to her at all and she’s going to get him the nice gifts and throw him the nice parties and whatever because she hates me and my sister for… and let me get this straight… being complicated and anxious and depressed and also girls. lol!
#purrs#delete later#sorry i knowive been insane about momposting but this shit has me screeching like an ape. the way when my brother was born she decided me#and my sister would be okay with each other bc we were twins and meanwhile she was leaving my sister to have anxiety attacks and me to take#care of her and all of this happening at like 7 years old and she would come into my brothers room every single night and kiss him goodnight#and talk to him for a long time and she wouldn’t even come in and say goodnight to us. LOL. ok. like our room being a depression nest is not#an excuse. us not helping out much in the kitchen or around the house (which is bad but also we have reasons for it that i think are valid#and i only do it here and not elsewhere btw.) is not a good excuse. you can’t decide you love your one kid more because he helps out and#keeps his room clean and whatever. maybe he is normal because you made it very clear from the time that he was born that he was your top#priority and you gave him your attention and didn’t take it away meanwhile my sister and i have always had to share bc we’re twins and she#cast us aside when he was born and has fucking tormented both of us for years over who we like what we want where we go all of that shit and#then has the AUDACITY to call herself a good mother. being a good mother is more than feeding your kid and projecting your childhood trauma#onto them by preventing them from ever developing cancer to the point where they’re afraid fo like. go outside. you have to be patient and#nurturing and kind and like.. motherly. ans i know no one can be a perfect mother and she has been hurt so badly and she is dealing with a l#lot right now but COME ON. for gods SAKE. i am right fucking here. why don’t you care about me? why do you make it clearer every day?#ask to tag#like the way she would say when my sister and i were growing up and going through it that she wished she could book a hotel and live there f#far away from us and miss out on us growing up so she wouldn’t have to deal with us being anxious and hormonal because we were teenage girls#LOL. totally did not impact me at all. totally is not a wound that informs every breath i take and every thought i have. not at all#* like maybe he is normal because you uh… idk. just a guess here. actually gave him the motherlove people need to be functioning healthy#human beings? idk. just a silly thought. haha
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Me, browsing Wattpad for Content™ (yes I know but it is a dry, dry desert out there and it's the only place with frequent posting for the fandom, shut up): Hm, a ship list? What the fucking hell; I'm already waist deep in garbage just by being here. What harm could it do? I'm desperate at this point.
The List: *Cyan x Rose is right at the fucking top*
Me: ... ah, perhaps I am misunderstanding? Perhaps they like it in a platonic sense, or like the familial relationship it very much actually is. *clicks on the chapter*
The Chapter: *proceeds with a short paragraph about why they like this ship, insisting that there was plenty of "crumbs" for it in canon that it HAD to be deliberate, basically this is very much NOT seen as platonic or familial AT ALL by this point*
Me: a h. My day is ruined now, thank you.
#Kaitou Joker#Mun Post#tw incest#incest tw#cw incest#incest cw#((the fic author wasn't lying; I really didn't like that ship#didn't even stick around to see the rest of them; don't really need to with such shit takes omfg#then again this same author posted some kind of challenge thing where they right off the bat said that#they found several of the heavily minor-coded leads to be sexy; so like. full of Awesome Takes; this one; clearly#for those not in the know; the characters Cyan and Rose are twin brother and sister; respectively#Cyan behaves very affectionately towards his sister; true; but he hasn't seen her around in a very long time#even worse; for reasons I will not get into due to spoilers; Rose very likely has the mind of a young child#sure you can't much tell the difference between her and the other characters of similar physical age; but she's also not on screen very much#and also the other cast members can be said to be very childish; her older brother included#he's responsible for taking care of her; mostly; most of his actions in his first arc are motivated by her well being in fact#to imply that there's anything romantic/sexual about the nature of their relationship at all is fucking creepy. this is a kids' show dude#don't be fucking nasty!!!#sadly not the first I've seen of content of this nature; or implying it (harder to tell with a language barrier tbf)#probably won't be the last of it; either; sadly))
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.
#i love having sisters my oldest youngest sister and i keep reading the same/similar books at the same time lol#just found out we literally read jeder stirbt für sich allein almost simultaneously#when we talked abt it on the phone#having a sister is like having one brain in two bodies#like shes exactly like me except as a different person#and as kids we always tried to deny that and like separate ourselves from each other#(the fact that we look so alike that we constantly were mistaken for identical twins didnt help)#but now we're adults and its like...#yes this is the only person who understands me completely#and shes the only person who I understand completely#and we love each other very much
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i should go to gay bars
#wind howls#or like. at least to drag shows.#im so so deeply interested in the whole culture of it and i have ! considered ! many times getting into it#im a bit shy and im not. very good at handling stuff like makeup or nail polish yet#its like the only 2 things that will make me have a bad autism time (ft. slight dysphoria)#but even then i love acting i love playing shit up i love animating a room and stuff like that#im just not sure where i would even start.#i guess going to a drag show would be a good start. i wonder if my older sister will go with me if i pay for drinks#and maybe with the twins since they are also adults#i dont know that my brother would be interested but my sibling might be ! who knows#someday. maybe.#id love to go with my friends and my boyfriend mostly but its hard to know how much of anything everyone can handle !#i have a big love for bright neon lights and im used to loud music so i know i have an easier time than some of my homies#my weaknesses lie somewhere else </3 i do wish i could paint my nails. i miss doing water marbling
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I thought you'd be different | James Potter
Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.
Probably part one of two again.
Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.
Masterlist. Part two. Part three
--------------------------------
You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.
“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.
“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.
But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.
You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.
“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”
“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.
“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.
“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.
When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.
You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.
James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.
James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.
James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.
It’s beautiful.
You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.
Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.
You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.
James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.
It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.
Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.
If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.
A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.
Maybe she will.
You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.
That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.
In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.
Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.
But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.
Who are you?
You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.
You’d be disappointed.
I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.
James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.
He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.
But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.
Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?
You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.
No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.
You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.
“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.
“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.
His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.
“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”
“No.”
“Well I did.”
“So it seems.”
“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.
“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.
“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.
“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.
You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”
“Do I have to pay rent?”
“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”
“So not then.”
You huffed.
“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”
“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”
Regulus shook his head in amusement.
Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.
You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.
“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.
For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.
You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”
It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.
James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.
His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.
“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.
“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.
You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.
Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”
“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.
“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.
“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”
You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.
Maybe he was a twat.
Am I a twat?
What the bloody hell are you on about?
Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.
Did you deserve it?
Sort of.
Sort of?
I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.
You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.
Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.
You reckon?
Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.
On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?
If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.
Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?
James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.
Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.
It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.
Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.
“Out with it.”
You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.
“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.
“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”
It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.
Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”
You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”
Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.
“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“
You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”
Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.
“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.
“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.
“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”
James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.
It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.
There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.
James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.
For two different reasons.
James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.
He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.
James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.
Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.
“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.
You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”
James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”
Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.
But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.
“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.
James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”
“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”
Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”
“You know you can call me James, right?”
“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.
“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”
You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”
“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”
His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.
“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.
“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.
“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.
“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”
The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.
James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.
“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”
“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.
James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.
The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .
“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.
You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.
“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.
“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.
“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.
“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.
You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.
By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.
You got up as well.
“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”
James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.
“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.
In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.
Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.
James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.
A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”
When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.
Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.
“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.
You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.
I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.
Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.
James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.
Preview of part two
Part two
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