#i like the number five. number seventeen is a funny one because it is TWO uneven numbers. the most problematic uneven numbers at that

[slovo-theshattered-onion]

people should start inventing their own numerologies and comparing notes. slash s r s

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: lee chan

age gap (younger/older)

'open your eyes and see, i'm all you'll ever need'

'age is just a number.'

you sigh, turning to look at chan. 'how many times you're going to repeat that?'

'as many times as it'll take to stick in your head,' he responses easily, ignoring your flat tone and bad mood. 'age is just a number, it means nothing. so what that i am younger? does that make me less of a man?'

'lee chan, i just failed my economy midterm, how about we'll discuss the nuances of what it takes to be a man a bit later?' you deadpan, trying to keep a strict face when boy in front of you blushes.

channie blushes so prettily, you can't help but notice. he, in general, is a very pretty boy, something that you unfortunately also can't help but notice. his profile is worth painting a picture for, his smile makes you feel warm even in the coldest days and his energy levels never fail to surprise you. he also is, well, younger. much younger.

'it's just one midterm,' he soothes and moves closer, taking something out of his bag. 'it won't heavily affect your overall score, no? here, i bought your favorite croissants with pistachio from that bakery down the street.'

you frown. 'down the street? that's a really expens- channie, those croissants are really expensive.'

boy next to you has the audacity to simply shrug his shoulders like it's not a big deal. 'so what? you like them, right?' at your nod, he smiles. 'then it's okay that they are expensive.'

and it's- terribly sweet. extremely thoughtful. very kind. chan treats you like no one did before and you two are not even dating. he's finishing his first year in uni, works half-time in the library and has several basketball trainings a week but somehow always finds time for you. he is there when you're on your close-up duty in the coffee shop you work, always with umbrella cause he knows you don't have one and waits patiently for you to check all locks and then walks you back to the dormitory under the 'it's so dark outside, it's unsafe' excuse. he remembers your favorite everything from snacks to tv shows and always sends you funny memes about them to cheer you up during midterms/exams week or leaves something at your dorm for you to pick up. he listens to your endless rambles about what awaits you after uni as you're on your last year and lets you cry it out on his shoulder, never minding wet patches you leave on his shirts. chan could've been your boyfriend, really. but he's so young and you feel like you're robbing him out of experiencing this university at full even when your age difference is not that big. but why would a first year boy date forth year girl?

'you're supposed to eat them, you know,' he gently nudges your shoulder, pulling you out of sad thoughts. 'have they already gone cold? we have microvewave on our floor, if you wait here i can quickly run-'

'no need,' you interrupt, barely breathing due to how tight your chest is. exactly how much this boy is ready to do for you? 'i'll eat it like that. thank you very much, channie.'

he beams at you and he really has no business in being this cute, it does something weird to your heart. you both sit in comfortable silence as you think about all the instances when chan barelled you with his 'age is just a number'. he got hooked on you pretty much the moment you two met and for the last six months you've been hearing the same 'age is just a number' five times a week.

'are you really very sad because of the midterm?' he asks in a quiet voice. 'or is there something else?'

of course there is something else. uncertainty about the future, anxiety over the rest of the midterms, fear of failing - 'yeah, just that midterm,' you mutter, trying to fake a smile.

'why are you lying?' his tone is too harsh for you not to flinch. 'why are you lying to me right now? is it because i'm younger?'

'wha- chan, what?' you ask, baffled.

chan takes a deep breath and stares back at you with utmost seriousness. 'you think just because i'm younger i won't be able to take it? won't be able to be there for you and support you in your struggles? why are you lying to me? why you are not telling the whole truth about what's bothering you? you think i can't help just because i'm not your age or older? is this it?'

he actually is upset, you realize in shock. chan looks like he's two seconds away from pulling his hair out or crying, whichever is more fitting. his eyes are pleading you to come clean to him, to let him be there for you and your throat constricts with unsaid words. no one has ever shown this consistent interest in you, no one ever made it clear about their intentions and this right now, coming from a boy who's much younger, who only now dips his toes in the mature world makes you want to cry. it must show on your face, because chan's face crumples and he quickly sits closer to you, mumbling 'please, please don't cry, i'm sorry!' and rubbing your back.

'i'm fine, i'm fine,' you say, wiping away few tears. 'sorry, i'm weirdly overemotional these days.'

'nothing to be sorry for,' he instantly says, frowning. 'are you okay? did i upset you?'

you shake your head, smiling a little. 'no. you just made me realize what douchebags i dated before you.'

'oh.' chan's eyebrows quirk in a cute way. 'uh- you're welcome?'

cracking up, you lean further into him and chan welcomes it readily, wrapping his arms around you. he's warm and solid and it feels good and safe to stay like that with him. age is just a number. 'channie,' you start and he hums a little, letting you know that he's listening. 'i don't want to burden you with my soon-to-graduate kind of problems, when you've just started your uni life here. you've got so much going on and i-'

'i'm very strong,' chan interrupts with voice full of determination. 'i can have my own problems and take care of yours at the same time, i promise.'

it's sweet. so terribly, horribly sweet, you think you're going to kiss him right now. and you do, smiling when he instantly hugs you tighter and kisses you back. god, it feels good to be wanted. when you lean back, channie is staring at you in awe, stars shine in his eyes so brightly that you can't help but kiss him again. 'okay, strong boy,' you mutter, cuddling up to him. 'you got me in the end. age is just a number.'

a/n: finishing up these series pretty soon, whew! how did you like this one? come say hi <3 - nini

my other works are here

if somehow someone reading this is into formula 1, then my works for it are here

[lesbianrobin]

lesbianrobin fic scraps #6: probably never gonna expand this one bc it would kinda be pointless and i'd feel like i was copying "count to thirty. breathe twice. repeat."

There are hundreds of thousands of CPR attempts outside of hospitals every year.

One, two, three, four, five…

Less than ten percent of them are successful.

…six, seven, eight, nine, ten…

Robin can’t remember the exact number. She can't remember. She should probably remember.

…eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…

She feels his ribs crack under her hands. Steve wouldn’t know the percentage, but he would cite some random number with complete confidence, and Robin would roll her eyes at him and call him a dingus, but she’d want to laugh. She might smile once he turned away.

…sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty…

He’s so funny. She never told him he was funny. She said that he was Mr. Funny.

…twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…

Thirty compressions. Two rescue breaths.

…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…

She pinches his nose. Tilts his head back. Fits her mouth to his. One. His chest rises. It feels like she’s blowing up a particularly resistant balloon. God, she can’t throw up right now. Two. She wants to throw up. She wants to scream. She wants to die.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten…

This isn’t going to work. How is she going to carry him out with only Dustin and Erica to help her? She can’t let them carry a dead body. She can’t leave Steve behind. She can’t leave the kids.

…eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty…

His face is blurry. She can’t cry. She can’t. She can’t cry right now. They’re all counting on her, which is awful, because Robin is a failure, an evil demon who killed the guy slowly becoming her best friend, and she can’t do this. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.

…twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

Steve’s mouth tastes like blood. Did it taste like that last time? Should she be tasting anything? Is she doing it wrong?

One. His lips are just so bloody. Is Steve her first kiss? No. No, this isn’t a kiss. It doesn’t feel like a kiss. It feels like something wrong and cruel. It's disgusting and she doesn't want to pull away and see how blurry her vision has gotten from the tears. Two. Robin doesn't believe in God. She breathes into Steve.

Please, if anybody, anything is out there, help me. Please, God, help me. This can't be real. This can't be happening. God, please help me. I’ll do anything if you let him stay. Please, Steve, you need to stay.

[mariisaaaaa]

When he was five, Tooru remembers jumping the highest.

“Get off the couch, Tooru, or you’ll fall down and hurt your knees,” his mother says as he goes for the jump. He’s on his tiptoes, a second away from the thrill of flying, when his mom catches him from door. Tooru flattens his heels against the cushions, straightens his back, and pretends that he wasn’t about to play hopscotch out of their couches. “And how many times have I told you that you’ll dirty the cushions with your feet! Those couches are meant for guests, you little rascal.”

Tooru cannot count the number of times his mother told him that, but that’s because it’s been millions and he can only count up to one hundred. Kato-sensei tells him that after hundreds is thousands, but his mom must have reminded him more than that. She’s been doing so for the last two weeks, ever since the day she came and picked him up from daycare sweaty and grinning, triumphant at his most recent win: he jumps higher than all the kids in his class! 

Kato-sensei measured their heights last last week. All seventeen kids line up and wait for their turn. Their teacher has them standing straight agains the doorframe and places a sticker to mark each student’s height. Tooru’s sticker is a UFO. “Hey, Iwa-chan, what’s your sticker? A monkey? Why would you want a monkey?”

“It’s not a monkey, it’s Godzilla!” puffs Iwaizumi. He’s all red-faced and scrunched eyebrows, and Tooru tries hiding the giggles behind a hand at Iwa-chan’s funny face. Iwa-chan Hajime moved in the neighborhood with his family last summer. He’s a prickly little kid only a month (only a month!) older than him, but he’s a few centimeters taller than Tooru, and it’s the most unfair thing in the world. Tooru drinks all his milk (and eats all his milk bread!), and yet he’s still shorter than thirteen kids in his class–including Iwa-chan. And being taller than the other tree doesn’t count because they’re girls, and he knows that boys should be taller than girls. 

“What’s your sticker even supposed to be?” asks Iwaizumi.

“A UFO.” Tooru waves the sticker in front of Iwaizumi for good measure. It makes Iwa-chan’s eyes squint and Tooru struggles to quiet down his bubbling laughter.

“What’s a UFO?” Iwaizumi asks, doubtful.

“It's what aliens use to get to earth, Iwa-chan, how do you not know?!” And he honestly thinks it’s the most awful thing that his next-door neighbor knows nothing of aliens and space and UFOs. “One day, they’re gonna stop above our house and cast this big huge magic beam over our front door,” Tooru says while throwing his hands around Iwaizumi’s space for emphasis. “And this beam would pull me up into their spaceship! And it’d be great Iwa-chan, cause then I’ll be floating. And maybe, since we’re friends, I might even call for you to go with me.”

Iwa-chan’s face turns all silly again at his invitation to go to outer space together, and Tooru’s about to tell him more amazing things when Kato-sensei calls for the two of them. They’re the only ones left who haven’t had their turns yet. Iwaizumi gets his height measured first, and Tooru follows soon after him. 

Their stickers get placed on the doorframe like this: Iwaizumi Hajime. 110 cm. Oikawa Tooru. 108 cm.

At one-hundred-and-eight centimeters tall, Oikawa Tooru stands shorter than thirteen out of seventeen kids in his class, six of which were taller girls, one of which is Iwa-chan Hajime, and Tooru feels like crying at the unluckiness of it all. But he’s a big boy now, and he’s grown up from last year, and his mother says he’s too old for crying now, so he doesn’t cry like he wants too. Instead, he rips his UFO from the 108 cm it is sticked on, closes his eyes shut, and jumps in frustration to stick his UFO against the doorframe as high as he can–higher than 110 cm, higher than the tallest boy in his class, so much higher against the rest.

He gets scolded by Kato-sensei later when class ends, but it doesn’t do anything to stop Tooru’s good mood. He jumped highest! All the kids (even Iwa-chan, heh) tried copying him and reaching for his little UFO, but none of them reached close. Iwa-chan’s mom comes to the daycare to pick him up, and he waves happy little goodbyes to his friend. “Wait for your mom just a little bit, okay Tooru-kun? I saw her buy something from the convenience store on the way here. She won’t be long. Say bye Hajime.”

In the end, it’s only Kato-sensei and Tooru left, but he doesn’t feel like talking to Kato-sensei right now, so Tooru instead goes against the doorframe filled with colorful stickers once more. He takes out a star sticker from his uniform pockets–one that he’d been saving for something more important–and peels the sticker paper away. He holds it on the tip of his fingers, bends his knees, and raises his arm. 

Then, Tooru jumps.

WHAM! 

His palms hit against the wooden doorframe. And there it is, higher even than his own UFO. Higher, higher than the anybody else, the highest. A star above them all.

Today, as young as five-turning-six, Oikawa Tooru learns this: the budding anticipation as your knees bend for the jump, the thrill of having your feet off the ground, the effort of stretching your arm to great heights, the call of come to me as you open your palms, and the victory slamming against your hand as you reach what you want. 

(Learns as much as his five-year-old candy-fueled brain can process anyway.)

[dark-elf-writes]

ROUND TWO! It is still technically tomorrow so yeah.... 😁

-(Remus. Safety. A port in the storm while everything shattered around him.)

Oh honey, hugs all of the hugs. This whole passage is fucking beautiful. The moment of Harry realizing Shouta is testing him and appreciating it. Recognizing where the adults in his life failed him and seeing that the man in front of him won't fail his students in the ways Harry was failed. AAAHHHH

-(Dark eyes looked him up and down. “Take ten. No need to traumatize them by throwing a zombie at their feet.” 

Harry scoffed, edging around Shouta to open the door he hadn’t bothered locking (anyone who could break into UA and get past all of the staff to a top floor flat and could get around Bill’s wards deserved to steal his shit honestly) and shooting the man a rather unimpressed look even as he nodded for him to follow. “I know damn well you own a mirror being married to Yamada so the only other options are you’re blind and just a very good actor or you’re so deep in denial you truly believe you don’t look worse than I do and I’ve literally died four times.”)

AAHAHAHAHUENJDSAKGNR CALL HIM OUT! but for real I love this. We see sassy Harry and Shouta, sir, pot kettle. ahahaha

-(Twenty teenagers looked back at him, eyes bright with suspicion as they shifted their stances to cover the little girl in their midst. The little girl who had no problem popping her head around a massive shoulder to beam at Harry and Shouta as they approached. 

“Hi, Harry-san!” The white haired girl waved. “Did you bring more cookies?”)

Leave it to the tiny human to relieve the tension of the room. And sassing Bakugou to boot. Love it.

-(With a shriek of laughter Eri launched herself from the green haired kid’s back and wormed her way between the protective gathering of teenagers to collide with Harry’s leg, going up on her toes to check the container. “Where’s Teddy?”

“With Weasley-Sensei. If your dad is okay with it you can come over for dinner tonight to see them.” 

She didn’t so much as look at Shouta. “Dad says yes.”)

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 THIS SWEET HILARIOUS CHILD! I CAN'T SHE MUST BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS! The only thing that would have made this better is if Hizashi had been present to witness it.

-(This time, Harry did smile, letting every shattered piece of himself show in the lopsided lift of his lips. Let them see the boy he was: fifteen and so fucking angry at the unfairness of everything, sixteen and terrified of the monsters that lurked around every corner, seventeen and tired down to his very bones. Let them see the reflection looking back at them. 

One child soldier to twenty. )

god fucking damn the absolute beauty in the writing here. dsjabcim I'm speechless. 10000000000/10

-(“You look like a fucking fetus.” Bakugou hissed. “How the hell can you be a Top Ten?” )

Cackling at this. Just the phrasing. Hit me right in the funny bone for some reason🤣🤣

-(“Dormant.” At the kid’s surprised blink, Harry shrugged. “I have a no slur policy when it comes to my students. That includes against themselves.” Which had been developed the exact moment Aoyama hissed the word. Not that Harry was going to tell them that. )

Yup good policy, timing don't matter. Nope not at all.

-(they are in my top five most terrifying sisters)

Who's number one? Ginny or Hermione because I feel like that could go either way lmfao

-THE ENTIRE END NOTE OF CHAPTER SEVEN HAD ME LAUGHING TO TEARS

-(“Welcome to the world, cub,” Harry breathed, pulling back to press a kiss to Teddy’s temple. “You hungry?” 

Teddy let out a jaw cracking yawn, rubbing at their eyes with the back of their hands, and blinked at him uncomprehendingly. After a second, they nodded. )

AAAAWWEWW The mental picture of sleepy little Teddy is just javirughdxkwiaiurytlh;iwo I CAN'T

-(Harry shrugged. “Bragging rights, mostly. I’m in a new country at a new job with very little of my reputation carrying over and only to a select few people who already knew about me anyway. All of you are the next generation of heroes and will more than likely make up a second chunk of the Top Fifty in the next few years. I need something to prove to my kid that I’m still cool when they inevitably decide one of you is their second favorite hero.” 

Disbelieving eyes came from all around the room. Well, except for Asui and Sero. As the two with the most experience with young children, there was not so much as a flicker of doubt in their eyes that street cred with a seven year old was Harry primary motivation. Harry smiled back  at all of them, unrepentant. )

Believe him guys. Believe him. 🤣🤣🤣And he's not wrong, room full of the future? He doesn't stand a chance at being his kid's favorite if he doesn't work for it🤣🤣🤣🤣

-(“If your ghosts try to convince you that dying is fun, just know that they are liars and it absolutely is not.” 

______

From the moment they had first met their new sensei, Izuku had been pretty sure that he was, on some level, completely fucking insane. )

THE PLACEMENT OF THESE SENTENCES IS FUCKING PERFECT👩‍🍳💋 🤣🤣🤣

-(One singularity recognizing another. )

I'm going to keep sounding like a god damn broken record but this entire passage is fucking poetry. Like fucking hell, 'it was more than their shared green eyes. more than the bruised eyes and too thin cheeks. more than the massive scar that took up half of the man's face that seem to glow with an eerie green light." jdfaiuhganfvjfdkalghr Fucking master of words you are.

-(“ Excuse me? ” First hissed, materializing at Izukums shoulder with the same pissed off cat expression he had given Second after he broke Izuku’s laptop during movie night. 

“You’re excused.” Potter-sensei shrugged. Shrugged. Like dealing with angry ghosts was normal for him. )

ahshasjiafownejwlafnuju SASSY HARRY!!!!!

-Okay death calling Harry a disaster twink in the end note completes my entire existence.

-(There was a snort and Harry lifted his head enough to see an unmasked Snipe grinning at the two of them. “Ah yes, the first day ‘how did my teachers ever put up with me’ guilt. Bright side, you didn’t have a single broken bone in your class and there was no Nezu level threat against humanity as a whole so y’all did a damn good job.” 

“The bar is so low,” Hermione whispered in horror, setting Harry off in half hysterical giggles.)

Nezu level threat is the most terrifying thing to happen on a teacher's first day, bar none. nothing else. nope.

-(Harry blinked. “Since when are you on a first name basis with Aoyama?”

“Like two minutes ago, dad, keep up. They’re Aunt Fleur’s cousin and that makes us cousins so Yuuga is family and last names with family is weird unless it’s for a joke.” He didn’t have to look to know there was a duh expression on Teddy’s face,

“Did you ask Aoyama if you can use their first name, or did you assume?” Teddy’s silence was the only answer Harry needed. “Teddy—.”

point two seconds later

“Can I call you Yuuga because we’re cousins?” 

Teddy turned back to Harry, still wearing Aoyama’s face, and pointed at the teen over their shoulder. “See. Cousin.”)

KIDS ARE A GODDAMN MENACE AND I'M FUCKING LIVING FOR IT

-(A familiar snort had them turning to see a grinning Hizashi leaning over the back of the couch where Shouta was attempting to appear asleep. It would have been more convincing if the man wasn’t grinning into his sleeping bag. “That’s just parenting. If it helps, they can keep up with Eri so I highly doubt Teddy is going to cause too much damage.” 

They were probably right, but…

“Doesn’t one of those kids have shark teeth?”

“ Fuck.” )

Crying laughing oh my fucking god yes this is perfect

-There is something so special about how this moment between Nemuri and Hermione is written. True connection, not unnatural, just two women who have fought to protect their families and came out scarred and hurting relating and commiserating, stunning writing.

-(“If you stretched more, you could do it too.” Harry pointed out, slowly rising out of the stretch before bending backwards, more to annoy his brother than out of any real need for the stretch. His palms hit the mat behind him as he held the back bend without too much effort. 

Ron shuddered. “That’s horrifying to watch have I ever told you that?”

Harry took a few too-quick shuffle-crawl steps towards him, just to make Ron lurch back with a shriek. The shorter man hit the mat a second later, laughing too hard to keep himself up. )

NOT THE HORROR MOVIE IMPRESSION ahahahahahahahhahahahah

-(In the ring, Hermione missed the leg sweep sent from Hizashi and hit the mats hard. It didn’t seem to stop her as she turned to gape at him. 

“Harry James Potter are you telling me you saw Tom Riddles’ penis?” 

“No I’m telling Ron, Shouta, and Kayama. You just happened to be eavesdropping.” )

CACKLING!!!!!!!!!

-(Honestly, there were worse ways to go rather than being murdered by a beautiful woman. )

Glory, Glory, what a helluva way to die!

-Shouta totally handed Ron his own ass, repeatedly and with glee

This is seven through nine! I'll be doing more tomorrow! I totally love this and want to keep going. I'm also interested in doing this with some of your other fics and maybe some tagged aus on here? if you're okay with it?

I’m loving this so much it’s such a delight to see all the parts you enjoy if you want to do it with other fics/aus as well I’m totally down just be aware that I will probably tell you that I love you platonically more than once.

[larathia]

So I just saw "Renfield"...

Review under cut to spare the uninterested.

Okay, so...my first takeaway was realizing that I really have changed from my seventeen year old self, because a lot of this movie would've resonated so hard with me in the year or five after The Asshole Who Shall Never Be Named got done raking my brain over the coals. I think if this movie had come out in 1992 I'd have worshipped it and carried it around like a personal anthem or something, going to people and holding up a VHS tape and going have you seen this? Okay well go microwave some popcorn cos we're seeing this now.

And there's still a lot of the movie that I think I'd have enjoyed more pre-antidepressants, because there's a lot of macabre silliness going on and that kind of thing tends to amuse me more when my brain's soaked in depression. So even if I'd just seen this back in January, I think I'd have enjoyed it more. (I did still chuckle at some of the dark-humor background jokes, like the sign up on the precinct wall that read 'don't solve the crime till it's overtime'.)

As it is?

As it is, I was spending a lot of time thinking things like "who the hell thought Nicholas Cage could act? He can't act. He has two modes, deadpan and Eat All The Scenery." (This movie was definitely 'eat all the scenery'.) Cage has a real problem whenever his role requires makeup or prosthetics, and he seriously could not manage to get around his vampire teeth. I'd give his overall performance a C-, maybe a D+, and it was easily the worst part of the entire movie. I straight up couldn't buy anything that Dracula said or did, nor could I buy Renfield ever looking up to him. I mean ...I could sort of get what the role was supposed to be, but only by muting the screen and reading subtitles. This role is for Nicholas Cage, about what the Cat in the Hat was for Mike Meyers. Someone who cared about the man would've smacked him silly before letting him take this role.

This movie was, however, saved by EVERYONE else. I mean EVERYONE else got the memo about what kind of movie this was supposed to be and they nailed it. I quite liked Renfield. I even liked the Lobos (admittedly, the woman who was the matriarch of the Lobos gang has pretty much had my number since she was Avarsarala on the Expanse, but I mean really, everyone else in this movie understood what was going on.)

I wouldn't recommend eating while watching this movie. There's a lot of gore, a lot of violence (sometimes taken to ACME levels, which I did find funny) and a lot of bug-eating which...uh. Doesn't go well with having a meal. But it was still a lovely movie, and very much worth a watch (even if one might mute Cage's attempt at a performance).

And I mean, the affirmations about codependent relationships aren't entirely off base, either. Edutainment at its bloody finest, yo.

[a-book-of-creatures]

Alright, I’ll just copy-paste thelasttroll’s comment (2/15/2011, 1:40:37 PM) on Gatherer, slightly edited for layout (hyperlinks work? sweet!), but DISCLAIMER: Mogg Maniac cannot target creatures, so the combo as written will not work. Also I did not proofread the math, do not @ me.

So, in an even more convoluted situation... 4 Spitemares, 4 Mogg Maniacs, 4Quest for Pure Flames, 4 Furnace of Raths, 4 Fire Servants, 4 Gratuitous Violences, a Stuffy Doll and a Shivan Meteor. The Shivan Meteor is going to zoom in through the rift and pop 53,248 damage on your Spitemare because it's really doing 13 x (2^12) damage from being doubled 4 times by the Fire Servants,  Quest for Pure Flames and Furnace of Raths. Chances are pretty good that your Spitemare will cease to exist. BUT BEFORE IT DOES, it's going to pump that damage up 2^12 again after being doubled by the Gratuitous Violences, the Quests and the Furnaces. The Fire Servant won't really be of any more use to you because it really just served to boost your initial sorcery. As the first Spitemare waves this world goodbye, it deals 218,103,808 (yes, over 218 million. that's over 9000 by a LOT) damage to your second Spitemare. As THAT Spitemare bites the dust it's going to do 893,353,197,568 damage to a third one. When THAT Spitemare kicks the bucket it's going to do 3,659,174,697,238,528 (over 3 quadrillion damage) to your last Spitemare, who at this point should have seen this coming. When your last Spitemare sizzles you SHOULD have garnered enough damage to completely obliterate SOMEONE. Most declarations of life totals after 'infinite life loops' are usually lower than 3 quadrillion. Well, last night one of my friends got 5 quintillion squirrels with his Squirrel Nest and Earthcraft combo and then pulled a Luminescent Rain. So, when over 3 quadrillion damage just isn't enough for you, tell your Mogg Maniacs that you're sorry and continue, full speed ahead. The first Mogg Maniac is going to take a total of 1,498,798,955,989,010,688 damage from your last Spitemare. It's going to make a funny little popping sound when it dies but dish out 61,390,764,277,305,387,778,048 (over 61 se - X - tillion) damage to another Mogg Maniac. (goblins can be a little bit irrational at times) The second Mogg will probably scream  "AIIIEEEE!" and deal 251,456,570,479,842,868,338,884,608 (over 251 septillion) damage to a third Mogg. The third Mogg will go out in a blaze of glory while channeling a total of 1,029,966,112,685,436,388,716,071,354,386 (over 1 nonillion damage... some of you didn't even know that was a number) damage to your fourth. Stop there? "NO WAY!!" Your last Mogg Maniac is going to Disintegrate and deal 4,218,741,197,559,547,448,181,028,267,565,056 (over 4 decillion) damage to your poor little Stuffy Doll. It's probably going to want to run away and cry but, if you're lucky, those tears will be tears of rage and it will feel like dishing out an unreasonable amount of damage. If you were smart (and ridiculous) enough to pull off this whole combo yet you chose yourself as the player that Stuffy Doll targets. I quit. I just quit. If you had this plan up your sleeve the whole time: Congratulations, Johnny. You just dealt your opponent seventeen undecillion, two hundred seventy-nine decillion, nine hundred sixty-three nonillion, nine hundred forty-five octillion, two hundred three septillion, nine hundred six sextillion, three hundred forty-seven quintillion, seven hundred forty-nine quadrillion, four hundred ninety-one trillion, seven hundred eighty-three billion, nine hundred forty-six million, four hundred sixty-nine thousand, three hundred seventy-six damage. (17,279,963,945,203,906,347,749,491,783,946,469,376) At this point, you should have already cast Flaring Pain. Then, just for the hell of it, go ahead and throw a Desperate Gambit on there. purely for the lols.

Shivan Meteor

Artist: Chippy TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[phoenixyfriend]

Systems' Scourge: Addendum

I don't actually have an intent of writing more of Systems’ Scourge, but I do have associated daydreams specifically based around other surviving padawans and their legions coming back, which is deeply unfortunate, because neither Cal nor Kanan was actually aware of the fact that, you know, the clones were mind-controlled.

So they just wake up on Venators surrounded by all the clones that survived that far (which is a skeleton crew, because Palpatine doesn't care and kept replacing them with natborn soldiers), and have panic attacks.

The clones are also unaware of the fact that they turned because of chips, so they're not having a great time either. ("A chip in my brain made me do this" sucks but it's better than "I did this and I don't know why." So, you know, the 501st is a lot better off, honestly.)

Luckily, nobody gets shot in either circumstance, but it's a close thing.

Then whoever's on the bridge and handling communications just lights up because there is one other GAR ship showing up, so maybe they should ring that up???

They do. It's the 501st. Ahsoka issues all the orders--she's three years older than Kanan, and Cal looked even younger so I'll say he's five years younger than her--and the first thing she tells them is to get the CMO and do a level five atomic brainscan, because even if they aren't active, and nobody on the bad guy side really knows how to activate them, the chips are there and as the Tup incident showed, they can malfunction as a result of a head injury.

Which leads to a whole uncomfortable Conversation about brain chips.

Ahsoka has them route to rendezvous and explains the whole Thing with the time travel and getting bankrolled by Dooku and technically being terrorists but they're targeting criminal empires and slavers so it's fine.

I think Kanan and his legion show up about two and a half years after the 501st, and Cal about six months after that?

Enough time that she's older by an even bigger margin than before, and already married, and has had time to set up this absurd military game she's playing.

There's a tangent where she just complains about how Dooku keeps interfering with her personal life because she told him she was part of the lineage and it backfired because he made her have a big wedding instead of just the small Mando thing she and Rex were thinking of-- "Wait, you're MARRIED?" "I mean... I haven't been a Jedi since I was seventeen. Not exactly breaking the code if I'm not beholden to it in the first place, you know?"

"Yes, Dooku. I know. I know. But still. Dooku's gonna be all misanthropic and jaded anyways, let’s just direct that somewhere useful." The Dooku thing is the what has Kanan and Cal both hanging back on trusting her because really? Really, bitch?

They admittedly don't have the advantage of being his great-great grandpadawan for negotiating with him.

(Cal and Caleb were both just running around trying to survive as scrappers and whatnot for years after O66, and I recognize they were teenagers and even doing that much was phenomenally difficult, but I find it really funny that while they were just trying to keep their heads down and eke out a living, Ahsoka took like one year to be depressed and then went to Bail like "knock knock motherfucker, I know you're fighting the Sith, gimme something to do.")

Anyway this is mostly an excuse for the Republic and various others to freak out about the fact that General Fulcrum has acquired two more Venators and they still can't figure out where from. Kuat is denying up and down that they had anything to do with it, but...

"Those serial numbers don't exist. They won't exist for another... decade."

Also there are a lot of rumors going around, including that they're an offshoot of the Children of the Watch because everyone refuses to show their faces. The actual reason for that is because they all have Jango Fett's face, but they can't just say that so

Also I'm imagining that she bullies Dooku into at least trying to reconnect with Qui-Gon and Rael (the Komari situation is a bit more complicated), but what that turns into is:

1. Ahsoka has to go save Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan when they get captured by pirates, and she can't go as General Fulcrum so she has to go as Freelancer Mercenary Torrent (different mask/helmet)

2. She then has to reintroduce herself as Sokari, Dooku's adopted granddaughter and heir apparent, and they're side-eyeing her because she's definitely the same girl from the pirate ship but? Sure, okay?

3. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are then bullied into attending A Fancy Party in Fancy Clothes (which they hate) and Ahsoka drags Obi-Wan out and onto the roof halfway through because he's not enjoying himself and she feels bad.

4. All the masked security guards are just clones. Dooku lets that happen because, hey, he knows they're good, and they're all loyal to Ahsoka.

5. Rex joins them but doesn't take his helmet off, is introduced as Sokari's Husband, which is hilarious for both of the time-travelers because Obi-Wan's face does a lot of weird things as he tries to parse his new friend being married. He's pretty sure she's not that much older than him (he's underestimating, she's like eight years older than him), and also Dooku used to be a Jedi, and Ahsoka had shown some Force-Sensitivity and combat skills as Torrent, so... he'd been mentally processing her as equivalent to a padawan, and her being married is suddenly reminding him that Actually No.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Four on the Floor

Summary: Your love is brighter than the brightest star in the sky. Stronger than Seungcheol in The Tag Going Seventeen Episode.

Bullet Scenario

Fluff, Poly AU

Word Count: 2,111

BooSeokSoon X Reader

[Mentions: Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Joshua (mainly)]

Alright, so they didn’t get together till probably the end of BookSeokSoon promotions. Because Seungkwan and Soonyoung were play fighting, and Seungkwan got angry and was like, “YOU KNOW WHAT-- I LOVE YOU.” Soonyoung gasps and without a second thought grabs Seungkwan by the collar. Seokmin walks in, and he’s like, ‘oh my god, Soonyoung is gonna break Seungkwan’s jaw-- um, what do I do?’. When they both kiss, he gets so shy and puts down the lightstick he was gonna use to pry them away from each other. They break apart and kind of rub their necks at each other.

Seokmin is just blinking at them. Hoping one of them explains before Seungkwan tells them that he thinks he feels more than friendship feelings for the two of them, which leads to them being in a poly relationship.

The rest of Seventeen was not shocked like Vernon was for a second. He was like, “I disassociated there for a second-- What were you say- Wait, I processed it, that’s wicked. Good for you guys.”

How you came into the picture is interesting, you’ve known Jeonghan your whole life. You two grew up together as next-door neighbors. So you called him one day and were like, “Hey, Hannie, I’m in the area. Would you like to catch up?”

This leads to you meeting his thirteen friends, who he has told you in immense detail about you love to hear about the drama and their antics. He always said you would get along with BooSeokSoon. You were like, "Yeah, okay, sure, Hannie.”

Like at first, you were awkward, but when you meet the three. You all instantly clicked and were laughing up a storm [Seungcheol owed Jeonghan a twenty].

Jeonghan drags you away from them and says, “They are my friend! I planned on hanging out with them.” Leading to all five of you whining. Jeonghan drags you away from the dorms to hang out at a cafe and do some catching up.

You were charmed by all three of them. So after you finish up your pastry, you ask, “Can I know more about them?” He smirks knowing, immediately who you’re talking about, and he lets out a little laugh and tells you about how all three of them are in a relationship together. You pout because that means you don’t have a chance with any of them.

He pushes your arm and tells you not to worry so much about them anyway. You shook your head, “But doesn’t make them any less cute… or funny…” Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Okay, well, would it kill you to ask if you could hang out with them?”

“Immensely.” He sighs, “I swear, (Y/n)ie. You are hopeless.” You blink at him, “Says the one who has a crush on his bestie and can’t go through with it because ‘what if he’s straight'. Hannie, I have heard enough about Josh to know that he’s at least a little interested. Or curious at least.” You both deeply sighed and sunk into the table. And hold up your coffees to each other. “To the hopeless!” You cheer as you clink your cups together.

When you went back to drop off Jeonghan at his dorm, Seokmin came rushing out. He was riddled with nerves, and he asked for your number so the four of you could hang out.

You immediately gave it to him and told him to tell the other two that you would like to hang out soon.

On your fifth hangout, you no longer were the fourth wheel. You were the fourth passenger in the relationship. How did it happen? Not too sure, but suddenly Soonyoung blurted, “We think you’re perfect.” Cue Seungkwan, hitting him upside the head and Seokmin nodding at what Soonyoung said. Which you were just like, “Count me in then.”

Jeonghan visibly gasped when he found out the four of you were now together. He told you he expected this outcome, but he didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

The rest of the boys were a little taken aback but not surprised at all.

Anyways--. TO THE DYNAMICS--

You are with the funniest boys on the planet if you haven’t laughed more than 50% of the day. The boys will personally make sure that is changed.

You guys love to clown each other.

Honestly, it’s usually Boo(Y/n) vs. SeokSoon. When they start acting up, you and boo go to the shared room, put on a movie, lock the door and enjoy your night together. Until like SeokSoon [read: Seokmin] caves and slip notes under the door. Which say things like, ‘we love you’. And you and Boo being petty, send them one back that says have fun on the couch tonight. Before you probably let them in at like 3 am when one of you goes? Should we? And the other reluctantly agrees.

If you and Seokmin try to pull a prank on BooSoon,... good luck. Because it is one thing to have a SeokSoon team but,... when BooSoon unites, oh god. Let’s say you guys are in for a long night, even if you guys start apologizing before the prank happens.

You and Soonyoung are a mixture of both teams. You guys will apologize but after having your laughs.

If it is three against one,... Seungcheol is on speed dial.

One time you guys ganged up on Seungkwan, teasing him and whatnot. He glared called Seungcheol, kicked you guys into his arms, and ENJOYED his time alone.

You guys enjoy clowning each other, and if it ever goes too far, like on game night.

Which all four of you are coldblooded [even Seokmin] when it comes to playing games. It’s cutthroat, and not so nice things can be said.

But when you guys all retreat to your shared room, the four of you cuddle and apologize, “Did you really mean what you said?” Soonyoung says with a big pout which leads to all of you cooing and kissing his pouty lips and telling him, “No, we love you too much to mean that. It’s just a game. We love you.”

UGHH, the dynamics--.

But if someone tries to clown one of you. Their ass will be handed to them and forced to eat it. You four are a force to be reckoned with.

Yes, this does mean you must support Soonyoung’s Tiger Agenda with your whole soul.

After all, you grew up with Jeonghan, and since Jeonghan is the number one supporter, you’ve been supporting it since day one.

“Aww, you look so much like a tiger today, Soonyoungie~ You should wear that sweater more!” [If you know the sweater I’m talking about, you would agree that he was on another level with that sweater].

“Do you think he’ll ever--” Seokmin shakes his head at Seungkwan, and you laugh. Because that’s your guys' tiger, and you will all love him no matter what.

The three of you cannot deny how good he looks like a tiger. The confidence he reeks of is insane. And that is incredibly hot to the three of you.

If one of you gets injured, oh god, the babying is adorable. You guys are coddling that person and making sure they stay rested for a fast recovery.

If one of you gets sick, expect the rest to catch it because of how close you guys are and how you guys care for each other. Seungkwan might be reluctant on either side. He will want and or give cuddles the most.

OHH I NEED TO TELL YOU ABOUT YOUR DATES--

Okay, so you may be the bravest soul, but if Seokmin is scared to ride a ride, you will sit out with him. Or if you can persuade him on, he will cling onto one of you and not enjoy the ride at all.

This is usually why you guys are playing bumper cars or mini-golfing or go-karting.

“OMG! THERE IS A TIGER PLUSHIE IN THAT GAME-- I HAVE TO HAVE HIM!”

Cue the four of you struggling to knock down the battles. Out of sheer luck, you managed to knock three down in a row. And able to give Soonyoung the tiger plush.

The rest of the day, the four of you are going around and playing games and winning each other plushies.

If it’s a calm autumn day, you guys are swaddled in sweaters and going to Seungkwan’s favorite cafe. Which you pick the furthest booth out to exchange kisses in.

Holding hands on a street built for two people to walk comfortably in is interesting. Seungkwan and Seokmin in front and holding hands and having their free arms extended back and holding Soonyoung and your hands respectively while you and Soonyoung hold hands. It’s a whole square walking down the sidewalk.

Dispatch knows, but they also know they will get their ass beat if they try to leak it. Either by the four of you or by Seungcheol.

More often than not, you guys have four-way makeouts. It is difficult to do, but the four of you have worked it out. And it’s literally the best kisses. While it might be cramped, it’s full of love and super soft.

Although you would love to go on tour with them as much as possible, you still have your job. So you watch their concerts at home or go to a concert. You have special all-access tickets where you walk around behind the scenes and enjoy the background happenings.

While the three of them are getting ready, they trade off on who gets to talk to you and doing their makeup. And if they are all occupied, you're talking to one of the other boys.

But most of the time, it's Jeonghan and Joshua who you became closer with, and you guys talk about whatever is on your mind. Your three boys are so happy to see you get along with all of their members and are always like, "That's my lover!"

When I tell you, you guys are devastated over each other. One of you guys could just be standing and doing nothing, and the rest will collectively sigh lovingly. Like wow, can you believe they exist? And they quirk their eyebrows at you guys before you guys end up in a cuddle puddle.

I do mean cuddle puddle because you guys literally are a big puddle when you lay in the same bed. Limbs thrown haphazardly over one another, you guys have a Californian King to accommodate all of you comfortably.

Seokmin lives for being the middle spoon, and the rest of you like to switch places. Soonyoung likes being the big spoon most of the time but will immediately go to the little spoon with no problems. Seungkwan and you, are neutral and have no preference and usually switch every other night when they’re home, of course.

If one of you guys gets angry at the other, you will spill to each other. And then spill it to the person they are mad at or, they end up finding out immediately.

Soonyoung yelling to Seokmin and you, “UGHH, I WANNA TAKE HIM OUT--” Seungkwan appears, and Soonyoung immediately backs up and says, “ON A LOVELY DATE WITH YOU GUYS--.” To which Seungkwan crosses his arm and puts his foot out, and raises a brow. Seokmin, Seungkwan, and you exiting while Soonyoung whines and scrambles to put on his shoes. “If you’re not in the car by the time we are all buckled up, we’re leaving you.” Seungkwan.

You guys balance each other’s energies so well that just ughh makes a beautiful power dynamic. No one could come in between you guys because you have such a strong relationship. Everyone wants a love like you guys share. Because you love each other more and more each day, yeah, you may have disagreements with each other. But they dissipate so quickly that it’s like it never happened. I’m just saying no couple could beat you even if they tried. Your love is stronger than the ocean waves in a tropical storm.

To quote Petula Clark, “My love is warmer than the warmest sunshine, softer than a sigh. My love is deeper than the deepest ocean, wider than the sky. My love is brighter than the brightest star that shines every night above. And there is nothing in this world that can ever change my love.” That’s your guys' song. You guys are so in love with each other that it’s incomprehensible to the single folk.

Yes, you four did conceive a way to get Jeonghan and Joshua together and they are happy together :).

[mayraki]

complete masterlist

✧✶∘↝ outer banks ↜∘✶✧

↝ masterlist ↜

♡ how would your stories look like if you were friends with the pogues [masterlist]

♡ jj maybank

you deserve love [completed]

after an unexpected event on a rainy day two friends find out they have feelings for each other [masterlist]

a mermaid’s tale [completed]

you managed to keep your secret safe. until a boy gets in danger and you have to safe his life [masterlist]

don’t mess with the troublemakers [completed]

max belinsky and jj maybank are the two troublemakers of outer banks. going to parties, getting into trouble, having an attitude and being the two people you don’t mess with are the perfect ways to describe them. what would happen when the two people who seem to have trouble follow them around meet? one thing is fore sure, they didn’t expect this outcome [masterlist]

lost in HALLOWEEN TOWN [completed]

a lot of unfortunate events follow the mysterious, wickedly funny and smart cordelia cromwell, being a brave young witch who loves to have adventures and could be the most powerful witch of her age isn’t easy. she was just living her life at it’s fullest, but when one day a little accident follows her to her hometown, halloween town, everything she knows and has been training for has to come to the test. and the worst thing is, that accident has a name: jj maybank [masterlist]

“it all started with a bra”

-> a little joke from your best friend ends up with your bra on top of a stranger’s head

“never have I ever” (+18)

-> “things get heated after playing a game of ‘never have I ever’

“smoking”

-> you confront jj about his week obsession

“jealous”

-> after a boy asks for your number, jj gets jealous and tries in every way possible to tell him that you’re his

“being as chaotic as jj” (2)

-> chaotic energy x2

“the new girl”

-> the new girl decided to help jj with his tuition

“manipulating bitch”

-> your kook cousin is staying at the cut and after she flirts with jj, jealous appears

“bad luck”

-> the worst birthday turns into a good one after jj gives you his presents

“princess”

-> jj is jealous after his cousin flirts with you

“the baby is crying!”

-> you sneak jj into your room at night. but it looks like your baby brother gained his protective brother instincts way too early

“innocent”

-> you accidentally call jj ‘daddy’ in front of everyone

“the next morning”

-> you decide to go to a Pogue party after a pretty bad breakup with your boyfriend, Rafe. But the Pogue King is there for the rescue, and things go a little bit too far

“true love”

-> inspired by the song ‘true love’ by p!nk

“mold is good for you”

-> you take care of jj after he ate that moldy bread

“code red”

-> how JJ is when you’re on your period

“dirty text”

-> you send jj dirty texts while you’re hanging out with the pogues

“someone will love you, but someone isn’t me”

-> she couldn’t believe someone could fall for her, even though he tries everything to let her know he likes her

“the right path”

-> two strangers start to expierence the déjà vu effects often. the only thing that they aren’t noticing is that it only happens when the other one is around

“the date destroyer”

-> jj decides to your dates after jealousy consumes him

“dancing queen”

-> jj gets a little bit jealous when some tourons can’t take their eyes off the dancing queen at the kegger

“the argentinian girl”

-> the granddaughter of jj’s spanish teacher comes to visit and he can’t take his eyes away from her. but she doesn’t seem to be interested in the obx most famous troublemaker

“enemies?” [PART 2]

-> it was clear that their smiliar strong attitudes didn’t fit together, or at least that’s what they thought until someone hurts her and he doesn’t even hesitate on protecting her

the adventures of babysitting

-> when the cute boy who mows the lawn for the kook family you babysit shows up, weird and unexpected events start to happen

the weirdo with five colors in her hair

-> the weirdo with five colors in her hair and a sexy attitude seems to have caught the attention of the famous troublemaker of outer banks

feel seventeen again

-> because you and your best friend jj maybank feel like the teenage years are coming to an end, you both decide to spend the night doing stupid teenage things like the old days. but you didn’t know that at the end of the day, the stupidest thing you’d do is kiss your best friend

jealousy, jealousy

-> jj likes to flirt with you all the time, but his fame with women makes you believe it’s all fun and games. until one day he gets extremely jealous when he founds out about you and john b’s shared first kiss

from my prompt list:

one // two // three // four // five // six // seven // eight // nine // ten // eleven // twelve // thirteen // fourteen // fifteen

♡ john b

“my little sister”

-> sibling fight that turns into fluff

♡ sarah cameron

from my prompt list

-> one // two

♡ kie carrera

from my prompt list

-> one

♡ pope heyward

from my prompt list

-> one // two // three

♡ rafe cameron

that one mistake

-> your relationship with rafe has become something filled with love and happiness after the months of helping him overcome his addiction. it seems like everything is going to be good, the fairy tale relationship you always dreamed of. but then, one little mistake from rafe makes you question everything that you and him worked hard for.

add yourself to my taglist

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.1)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Durkio Faceclaim

Alexis Faceclaim

Amiyah Faceclaim

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black OC

Warning: language

Kicking off the covers from her legs for the fifth time that night Amiyah flipped over on the left side of the bed relieving herself from pressure that she felt on her right shoulder.

Picking up her phone she saw the time of 12:46 am. It wasn’t the discomfort she felt in her sleep or the extremely warm temperature of her room that woke her up. It was the blaring from her Durkio’s speaker that was gifted to him from himself as an early birthday present. She was cool with it the first couple of times, seeing as she used it as well to play music whenever she wanted to clean her room but this was starting to become annoying.

In the next five hours she had to be up early to open the clothing store she worked at. Durkio likes his music to be played loudly but for some reason tonight it was blasting.

Getting out of bed and slipping on her black UGG Tasman slippers Amiyah went to open the door and was met with the aroma of weed.

“Damn I guess the music isn’t the only thing that’s loud.” She tiredly giggled at her own humor.

Took Her to the O by King Von was the choice of song that woke her from her beauty rest. Shaking her head as she folded her arms she walked down the hall of their shared three bedroom apartment to see the dimmed living room foggy.

Swatting away the smoke she walked closer to the couch preparing to get onto her brother.

“Yo Durk, you know I have to get up for work in a few hours. Can you turn the speakers down or off please?”

Amiyah coughed through almost every word. She didn’t smoke so whenever she inhaled the air would hit her baby lungs causing her to react.

The music level turned down. Finally what seemed like forever the smoke was clearing the living room so she could see the face of her brother...or who she thought was her brother. It was Erik.

Leaning forward he put out his blunt on the ashtray, then he dusted off any remains of falling ashes from his dark grey Nike sweatsuit he rested his elbows on his knees.

Looking up at her with hooded eyes he licked his lips and the famous “sober up wipe” to the face followed after.

“Damn that’s my bad Miyah. I was in here just letting my phone play. I woke you up?” He asked with a small smile.

“Yeah a lil bit but it’s okay.” She spoke in a soft voice that was different compared to the tone she poke in before she found out it wasn’t her brother but her brother’s best friend and also..her crush.

Awkwardly standing there with her arms going back into their folding position making herself feel secured once she cover her tummy she decided to walk to the black leather recliner on the left side of him sitting down. She found herself being really close to him unlike any other times. Inhaling the air she could smell his cologne mix with the weed.

“Um, where’s Durkio?”

“He went out to the car to grab something real quick. He’ll be back.”

Erik got up putting everything that was laid out on the coffee table up. From the bags of weed by the pound to three glock 17s that was sprawled out everywhere. He knew this wasn’t new to her or anything but he wanted to be respectful to his partna’s lil sister. Even though he was the only child he knew that if he did had a baby sister he would want his boys to show the same respect.

Amiyah watched his every move. From the way he gave his sweats a tug around the inner thigh area giving him some room to breathe down there to then observing him pulling up the sweats before he sat down.

There she was doing it again, acting like a little stalker over this man. But she couldn’t help it. She found herself crushing on the best friend of her brother really hard. She was introduced to Erik at the age of seventeen. Just getting out of high school while her brother was already making a name for himself in the streets at twenty-three.

Durkio was coming up from being know for having the best exotics in the hood, some untouchable shit. He started to get more exposure and also more enemies. So along came his homeboy Erik, standing 6’3 and about 225 lbs solid. By the age of twenty-one he was already known to be a problem. Hot headed and a crazy mouth to match but also in a strange way quiet. It was like he knew when to turn it off and on. She notice that whenever she was around the duo he would be barely audible and sometimes completely quiet when she would walk into a room. Taking only glances at her and continued to keep it pushing.

Maybe that’s what she liked about him. Not only did they share the same characteristics when it came to not saying a lot while around others but he also didn’t try to put up a front in front of Durkio. His other homeboys did too much by just talking excessively to her about nothing while trying not to say the wrong thing too her to stay on the good side of her brother.

Amiyah wasn’t the only one doing some studying. Erik didn’t take his eyes off of her from the moment she stepped into the living room. He watched the twenty-one year old face turn from hard to soft as soon as she seen it was him in the place of where her brother usually sits.

Even through his hooded eyes he caught her covering her stomach and setting herself up in a defensive position, something he notice she always did when he was around. To Erik it seemed as if she was doing it because she wasn’t comfortable around him so he stopped his eyes from wandering over her body and other times not acknowledging her other than a head nod.

He already knew how his mans Durkio felt about his little sister. He was going to kill whoever did her wrong, let alone even looked at her like they had a problem. In Eriks eyes Amiyah was considered hood royalty. It wasn’t all talk either. A few months ago there was a young recruit that tried to get Amiyah’s number, who clearly wasn’t interested turned him down in the most modest way. Youngin tried to show out in front of his friends and slipped up and called her a fat bitch.

Once word got to Durkio he had the whole hood searching for the kid and when he found him, not only did he have the dude friends jump him my nigga literally fed him a bag of dog shit and made him eat it. Swallowing every drop.

“Yeah nigga you like to talk shit so you gon eat this muthafucka! You lucky I don’t get one of ya own mans to pop yo ass folk!”

Erik shook his head inwardly laughing about how the whole situation unfolded in front of him. Durkio was one crazy ass nigga! That’s why they was best friends though. Their personalities just matched.

Even though Erik to himself wasn’t official in the game a lot of people seem to think so. But that wasn’t the case, to him he felt he was just heavily associated with the ones surrounding it. Guess you can say his name got caught in the wrong mouth and they titled him without knowing the facts. He didn’t care though, he figured people was going to think what they wanted about him anyways so why try so hard to prove them wrong.

“Erik.” Amiyah looked over to seem him leaning back into the couch with his hands in his hoodie pocket. He was smiling to himself about something. She wondered what.

“Wassup.” He answered nonchalantly giving her his undivided attention

“Do you know how long he’s been gone?”

“Oh I’m not sure, I think five minutes or so. You want me to leave or something?” Erik asked on edge ruffling up his dreads a bit not wanting her to feel guarded in her own home.

Truth was Amiyah didn’t care so much about her brother’s whereabouts. She wanted to use these few minutes alone with him to feed her fantasies. Imagining just them two in his home not worrying about Durk busting in on them.

“No of course not. You’re good. I-I was just being nosy.” She tried her best laughing the nerves away while mentally face palming herself for stuttering.

Erik smirk. He could see the quiver in her bottom lip when she spoke. She was trying to hide it but it wasn’t working.

“Nah I feel you. You work tomorrow?” Deciding to spark up some conversation to help her relax with him.

“Yeah I open the store. So I have to be out of here by six in the morning.” Pushing her back against the recliner lifting one leg under the other she made herself cozy.

“Bella Ella Boutique right.”

Her eyes flickering at the fact he knew where she worked.

‘So he must pay attention to me.’

Is what she thought. If it wasn’t for her golden brown skin complexion she would be sure that Erik would know that she is blushing.

Along with a head nod she gave a small smile answering quietly. “Yeah that’s right.” She shifted her eyes not wanting to keep to much eye contact.

“You like working there? How long has it been by the way?” Resting his elbows on his knees once again, facing her, he gave her all his attention.

Placing her hands between her thick thighs to help calm her nerves she put her eye back on him.

“It’s okay...it’s just I wish they would hurry up and hire some new people already. Like I’ve been working so many hours and-“

She stopped mid sentence once she heard him chuckle.

Lightly giggling herself she shook her head. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” Erik swiping his bottom lip with his tongue before giving her a small smile.

This was the most he heard her talk this much in a while. Usually she would only say hi and bye and then every now and then ask about her brother but tonight she was keeping conversation like they were friends.

“Why am I funny? What I say?” Curious to know the reason.

“It’s nothing bad mama I just never heard you talk this much before. You be acting mad quiet around me.” Leaning back putting one arm at the top of the couch and resting the other on top of his crotch area.

Amiyah took in his form.

Did he just call me mama?

She couldn’t help catching his nickname.

Hit Different by Sza started playing softly in the background.

“Okay but you can talk to me too. I’m not the only one with a voice Erik.”

“You right and I’m a change that for you. When I come around I’ll start addressing you more. Is that good?” Staring into her soft brown eyes searching for an answer.

Playfully rolling her eyes trying her best to subdue her smile.

“Whatever-“

The front door open revealing her brother. Holding a bag of Burger King eating some fries.

“Aye my bad nigga I had to get sumn to smack on- Miyah fuck is you doing outta bed?” Durkio stop rummaging through the food once he saw her.

Erik scooting down further away from her towards the middle of the couch not trying to give his crazy ass any ideas.

“Uh Durk last time I checked I’m grown.”

He looked at her like she had four eyes.

“Girl you better quit acting like I ain’t raise damn near by myself. You bet get yo ass back in that bed fo’ yo ass miss work then you gon want me to pay you for the hours you miss.” He sat the bag of food down next to the ashtray that held about four roach blunts.

“Nigga she only out here cause I was blasting the music. I woke her up.” Erik winking at her defending her.

Her thighs clenched up at the small action.

I know he did not just make me wet by winking at me?

Of course this was only due to her inexperience. She never got pass kissing a guy and even that she felt needed some work.

Knocking her out of her thoughts her loud brother spoke again.

“Erik I don’t need you sticking up or lying for her and nigga where the fuck my weed at?”

He got up checking the cabinets pulling out a half ounce before looking back to see that his baby sister in the same spot.

“Miyah why you still here?” He asked breaking up the bud.

To people on the outside it may seem like Durkio was a mean brother but he really didn’t mean her any harm. That was just always how he was. He had a rough demeanor, so when he spoke it could come off offensive if you didn’t know him but both Amiyah and Erik knew that was just his mannerism. But all in all he loves his baby sister.

She smacked her lips. “I can’t hang out with y’all?”

“No. Hell is wrong with ‘dis girl?” He asked his friend chuckling.

Erik silently laughing at the bickering siblings. He unwrapped the whopper that he got from the bag before taking a bite while closing his eyes and savoring the grilled burger. Fast food always hit different when he was high.

Shaking her head she decided against arguing back and forth with her brother. She had to get up in a few anyways so it was time for her to head back to bed.

“Whatever I’m going back to bed. Night. Night Erik.” Getting up from the couch making her way out the living room area she turned to look at the duo one last time.

She caught Erik looking her up and down before giving her a head nod acknowledging her and mouthing a good night.

Disappearing in the hall and back into the room she sat on her bed replaying the conversation over and over which brought back the memory of his scent. Somehow she could still smell him as if he was right in front of her.

Smiling to herself she got up checking the time on her Apple Watch on her nightstand that read 1:34 am.

She had a few hours to get some sleep. Taking a last glance at herself in the mirror she realized she still had on her light blue silk bonnet the whole time in front of Erik.

Nooo.

Laughing at the embarrassing thought she shrugged it off before sleep took over her body again.

___________________________________________________

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen

Hey guys this is my first story on here. Haven’t wrote in a while and so I just wanted to try it out again just to see if I still have it in me lol. I have a few ideas for this story but I’m not sure...anyways let me know what you guys think. Constructive criticism is allowed here.

P.s If I tagged you I probably read your work or I just want to see if you would be interested in this story. If you don’t like it I can take you off so sorry if you might not be interested.

Please excuse any mistakes if there are any. Thanks!!

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @artisticestheticreads @uzumaki-rebellion @blowmymbackout @chaneajoyyy @thehomierobbstark @thiccdaddy-mbaku @curls-and-crosses @madamslayyy @goddessofthundathighs @eriksjournal @erikslulbaby @wakandamama @wawakanda-btch @wakandas-vibranium @wakandaforeverwrites @ghostfacekill-monger @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from grace)

Read Chapter 1 here 

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other. Fair warning this has no plot. its just them being idiots . 

Chapter 2

I woke up to a pounding headache and seventeen missed calls from one Jeon Jungkook. Glaring at my innocent phone I contemplated just going back to bed and calling in sick. But I couldn’t. As Hobi oppa’s assistant in the HR department, I had a shit-ton of work to do on any normal day and if I skipped work today, I would just be screwing myself over for tomorrow. 

As fate would have it Jungkook and I worked in the same company. Although work was a very generous word for what he did there  , which was basically foist his entire workload on his poor besotted secretary who was too head over heels in love with him to realize that the bastard was taking advantage of her. The girl was young, probably twenty one or twenty and like an eager to please, easily excited chihuahua puppy.

But Jungkook’s designation in the company was nothing to scoff at : He was the HOD of the creative design department and I knew that the fucker was just unfairly good at digital art. it’s hard to imagine a brute like Jungkook with a Tablet , drawing easy strokes of visually appealing masterpieces but that was literally what he did, during the three days a week that he spent at the office. But although he was good at it, he was mostly only there because his dad had threatened to cut him off if he didn’t show up at least thrice a week. 

The remaining four days though, that was the interesting part. 

Jungkook was a boxer. 

A professional street fighter , to be exact and he absolutely pulverized his opponents in the fighting ring. Affectionately called the golden maknae, because he was literally the youngest there and so far he had always won gold in nearly every fight he took part in. 

I didn’t really talk to Jungkook in the office and no one knew about us. But this was less by design and more because our paths didn’t cross.

But I had a feeling that today would be different. Jungkook was pissed last night. I wouldn’t put it past him to show up at my cubicle and make a huge scene. And well, seeing as his dad owned the damn company I was pretty sure , he wouldn’t be the one getting fired if that were to happen. 

So I called Hoseok up just to be sure.

“He’s not coming in today is he?” I whined, desperately , voice a little muffled around my toothbrush. 

“I have no idea, Areum.... The guy doesn’t have me on speed dial...”

I groaned. 

I would just have to roll the dice, it seemed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You little bitch.” Jungkook’s voice, right next to my ear, was so unexpected that I sloshed the scalding hot water from the coffee pot all over my arm. 

“Fuck... Jeez, give a girl some warning will , you?” I hissed, grabbing a wad of napkins to soak up the mess on my arm and the counter. Before I could fully finish, he gripped my elbow and yanked hard, swinging me around so fast, I lost my footing, crashing into his chest. 

I stared up at him, furious. 

He was dressed in a fucking suit. I took in the broad , broad shoulders encased in a slightly sparkly black suit, the drool-worthy pecs straining against the fitted black shirt and the perfect knot of his tie and felt my mouth water. 

But it was the hair that did it for me. Gelled but un-styled, his long hair was a mess, falling into his eyes and he looked so much like a beast that had been forced to look civilized. 

“What the fuck do you want?” I hissed, annoyed and just a little aroused. Could someone’s fucking face be a kink? Like looking at Jungkook should not be a turn on, right? Where was the justice?

His hand snapped up , wrapping around my jaw with enough force to bruise and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. I gripped his wrist, clawing at it trying to get him off but he grabbed both my wrists together with his free hand, squeezing till i winced. 

I closed my eyes when he bent low, teeth closing over my lower lip and biting down hard enough to hurt.

“Please..” I whispered, terrified because the break room door was open. Anyone could walk in and i’d be forced to file a sexual harassment charge against myself. 

“You think its fucking funny. playing with my brother’s heart?”

My pulse sped up at that.

“I wasn’t..... What do you mean, heart?” I stared at him, genuinely scared.

“You know he fucking likes you, Areum.... He asked you out for dinner.... You think its fair, making him think he has a chance just because you want to be a petty little , whining bitch?” 

Regret pulsed inside me, my throat going dry in genuine guilt. 

“I didn’t mean-” The fingers around my jaw tightened and this time the pain was enough to make my eyes water. 

“ I think, this thing between us needs to end. I don’t think you’re nearly a good enough lay for me to risk hurting my family.” He said softly and I felt my anger rise.

“Good. Let’s end things then. You think I can’t find someone else to fuck?” I challenged him and he smiled.

“Oh, baby I know you can find any number of dicks to take that slutty pussy for a ride but the question is , do any of those men actually know  how  to fuck you right?” 

I stayed quiet because he was right. I’d had enough bed partners to know that no one, no one came even close to Jungkook. He had probably wrung out more orgasms from me in a single week than all the other men in my life combined. The idea of not having him in my bed was..... terrible. We had gone through this before, some petty ass fight leading to us refusing to touch each other and  I had only lasted five days before having a mental breakdown from sheer horniness. Granted he had been the one to cave in on day 6 but still, it wasn’t an experience I wanted to relive. 

I stared at his gorgeous face and swallowed my dignity. 

“Fine... “ I gritted out. “ I’m sorry.” The last came out as a whisper, my pride refusing to let me say it any louder. 

His fingers slipped down to tilt my chin up.

“Didn’t catch that, dollface.....” He was smirking now. 

I stared at him.

“I said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have played with your brother you’re right. But you shouldn’t have handcuffed me to the fucking bed...”

Jungkook hummed.

“Still with the passing blame.... I’m not  certain you’re nearly sorry enough. Maybe us taking a break is a good idea and-”

I reached out and clutched the lapels of his suit jacket pressing a desperate kiss to his mouth to cut him off. 

“No... Stop it.. I... I’m not faking it, okay? I did feel like shit after sleeping with him, its true and you’re right... he didn’t... he didn’t make me feel as good as you usually do. It’s true. Just... I’m sorry.” 

Jungkook’s eyes flashed , his pupils dilating and I gulped. 

“Not here.” I said sternly, knowing exactly what he was thinking and his arm came around me, hands dripping down to grip my ass, lifting me up till I was pressed right up against his crotch. He rolled his hips into mine and I felt the hardness of his erection as it pressed into my center. 

His eyes narrowed in annoyance, like I was being unreasonable by refusing to fuck him in the very public break room in his dad’s company on a monday morning. 

“So where? And it better be someplace we can get to in the next two minutes because I’m gonna stick my cock in your mouth in two minutes, regardless of where we are.” He said quietly , reaching up to hook his thumb into my mouth till my lips parted,  and then pushing his fore and middle finger inside. 

Fuck.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter seventeen - “wouldn’t dream of it”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: reader has a strange dream that ends up bringing on a cascade of various events and feelings.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

A/N: feel free to drop any opinions/thoughts/predictions below (or in my asks if u wanna be anonymous!!)

She would have woken up from a night's sleep saturated with regret... if she had slept a wink. She spent the night tossing and turning, and at about five in the morning, the pursuit of rest was abandoned.

Forcefully and exasperatedly, she sat straight up, glaring at the clock and letting the blanket pool around her waist. Y/N had her weekly meeting with Shuri at nine o'clock... that meant four hours to kill. More like four more hours of trudging through thoughts, memories, questions, and fears surrounding the previous day. Four more hours of ruminating over Bucky Barnes. This seemed to become a reoccurring activity her life.

She stared at the wall, thinking about how before, there was at least the excuse of being drunk: maybe not completely knowing what she was doing, maybe not remembering something correctly. But they were sober this time... she was sober. And what struck her was that, when it happened, when he kissed her, there was no moment of initial startle. There was no surprise jerk back or woah-what-are-you-doing response. Their bodies just fell into form. She just fell into form. Like it was an instinct. Like they were both used to it, and had done it a number of times before.

She wasn't sure what shocked her more: the fact that he kissed her or the fact that she kissed him back. Was he being bold? Or did she lead him on? Had she been leading him on? He wouldn't have done it on his own account, right? She had a degree of difficulty in believing she was wanted. Truly.

She could've sworn that she wasn't this emotionally invested. She could've sworn that if she couldn't control what she was feeling, she could at least control what she was doing. She rubbed her eyes, wondering where she went so wrong. It probably happened at some point during the isolated time she had been spending with Bucky in a secret corner of the world, not minding the least bit that she had been away from home and work for months whilst working on a project hardly anyone else was even aware of.

Even with all this in mind, she didn't seem to care. She didn't really mind that she hadn't been home in ages, it didn't really bother her that she might be in trouble when she gets back for helping enemy of the state Sharon Carter, runaway fugitive Steve Rogers, or war criminal James Buchanan Barnes. Because every time she thought about the consequences, it just didn't seem to matter more than what was keeping her in Wakanda... Besides, she guessed Bucky would probably be pardoned and after everything settled down, who would pay any attention to her? It's not like she mattered in the grand scheme.

As soon as that very thought arose, she could hear Bucky's voice scolding her in the back of her head. Why was he always there?

Frustrated, she groaned into the air in front of her. Her feelings were so confusing, she wasn't even sure what exactly it was she felt towards Bucky. On one hand, she felt fiercely protective over him: she'd go down fighting before she'd let anyone lay a hand on him, prepared to stay in his corner forever, ready on defense.

But at the same time, she felt this ineffable sense of warmth for him. Like one look at the way his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she'd turn soft as water. Like being in his vicinity smoothed out the rough around her edges.

And if all this wasn't enough, now she had been touched by him, she had felt his lips and the gentleness in his skin. This brought a cascade of new feelings, ones she knew she had to hide. It... was definitely a problem. She knew, don't get her wrong, she knew it was a problem. As much as she understood this irrefutable fact, the numbness in her lips just wouldn't go away. He had remained with her even hours later. She couldn't get rid of his heartbeat; it was still in her hand. She could still feel him.

Basically, she knew this most recent development was an issue. She knew it was bad, wrong, worrisome, and whatever else. And knowing this, recognizing the very hot water she was in, the only thing she could focus on was trying to ignore the recurrent desire to be near him, to find him and be close to him.

"Fuck."

She plopped back down on her back and elected to cast a burning glare at the ceiling until she had to get ready for her meeting.

—

"I think it might be too hot for this," she complained with a smile on her face.

"It was your idea," he said, a few steps ahead of her, "and we're almost there, so buck up."

She laughed. He smiled at the sound.

"What?" he asked.

"You said buck up. Like Buck... Bucky. Like you."

He just looked at her, amused. Sun kissed and happy.

"It's fitting," she shrugged, grinning.

"Guess so. Hurry up, slow poke. You're gonna fall behind."

"I'm already behind," she huffed . "Your super soldier legs are too fast for me."

"Well," he stopped short and she finally caught up, standing right beside him, "we're here. So worry not."

He looked over at her to find her already looking at him. Funny how their eyes always found each other like that.

"What?" he asked again, not able to help how the corners of his mouth turned up just slightly.

"Nothin.’ Everything," she shrugged. "You."

Perhaps she just liked looking at him. Him and his long hair and light eyes. Was that such a crime? His skin looked caramelized under the sun. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

"You're a real peach, y'know that?" he smirked.

She looked away, pretending to find the grass around them spectacularly interesting while hiding a dopey smile at his compliment.

"Hey, doll face. I'm a lot more fun than the grass, I swear," he teased. "Lemme see my favorite face."

"Hold on." She got an idea.

She reached down beside her and plucked a flower from the soil.

"A little hibiscus," she smiled, tucking the small flower behind his ear. God, he was just so pretty.

She stood back, satisfied with her decor. She sighed, content. How couldn't she be? She was looking at two of the most beautiful things. Flowers and Bucky.

As soon as it was securely in place, Bucky bent down to pick the hibiscus that sat right next to the one Y/N chose. Mirroring her actions, he placed it behind her ear.

"A little hibiscus," he repeated fondly, "for a real peach!"

She didn't dare try to hide the next dopey grin while taking in the sight before her, of Bucky beaming in the sunlight with a flower in his hair. Looking at this, she understood why mankind began to paint. Why there needed to be someway to capture something as precious as this, some method of preserving something so idyllic and beautiful and pure and perfect.

Perfect like the cool, fresh water of the lake. Their lake. Their place. The flowing, breathing water she felt around her waist. They floated around, her and Bucky, as light as air in that lake.

The two were weightless, adoration suspended in animation. The water preserved the feeling of feather light kisses and chests pressed together and hands beginning to roam. If only she could be closer to him. Her fingers in his hair and his palms on either side of her face wasn't enough. She needed more. More, more, more of him.

Skin is so soft and the sun is so warm and soon enough, the water was up to her shoulders as his arms ran up her back. Arms plural, she noticed. He held her with both, protectively enclosing the longing feeling between them.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Y/N sprang up, throwing the blanket off of her.

She must've fallen asleep... and began to dream... She could imagine if her brain was a person, it'd be laughing at her for that.

Why? Why? What was the reason for this? There was no point! How frustrating! How embarrassing that her mind betrayed her with dreams of him.

"God damn it," she swore under her breath.

She wanted to angrily shake her fist in the air like vengeful cartoon character, as she got out of bed and headed towards her wardrobe.

It was 8 a.m. One hour until her meeting with Shuri. She would spend the time changing her outfit until it was distracting enough to draw her attention away from thoughts of that damn lake... and his damn hands...

—

"My friend!" Shuri greeted in her usual upbeat manner. "How are you? How are things?"

There was absolutely no way to answer this honestly.

"I'm doin' well. Same old, same old. How 'bout you?"

"Good as always," she smiled. "Thank you."

Y/N took a seat at one of the tables in Shuri's lab. "So how is T'Challa doing with Nakia?"

"Oh, who knows these days! He is so awkward, I have no idea!"

They both laughed. Y/N was glad she and Shuri were able to talk like this. They weren't just robotic colleagues who only communicated when they needed to. They were partners, and they worked well together.

The meeting commenced like it did every other week. Updates on Bucky's progress, new ideas or adjustments to treatment or planning, going over scans or data, you name it. But this time, she had something else in mind. Something that a dream reminded her of. She had mentioned maybe getting her hands on a prosthetic for Bucky. She wasn’t familiar with the prosthetics industry in Wakanda, but they could probably make something work.

Was that too much? Did she care too much? Was she showing too much regard for him? Was this too much to ask of her?

"Hey, remember a couple weeks ago when I talked about prosthetics?"

"Of course," Shuri smiled. She genuinely enjoyed her partner - her partner who was intelligent, confident, and articulate but still sometimes sounded shy. "You wanna see what I've been working on?"

"You... you ordered one? I didn't-"

"Oh, no. Not ordered. Just you wait," she said, pulling out a drawer to dig amongst papers. "I've been workin' my magic."

Shuri pulled out a manilla folder that had W.W. - Proj. 1 printed on it.

She dropped the folder in front of the psychologist who sat across from her, gesturing for her to look through it. Y/N opened it to see several pages of prosthetics research, information on cybernetics and various designs for a bionic arm.

"Oh... wow." Y/N marveled.

"What do you think?"

"It's incredible," Y/N shook her head. "I didn't- ... I thought you meant you bought one or something. I didn't know you designed one"

"I didn't just design it. I made it."

"You- what?"

"Yep. First model ready for use. Do you want to see it?"

"I'd love to."

Shuri walked her over to a large, rectangular case in the side of the lab.

"Holy shit," she let slip.

The arm was astounding: a glossy black with ridges etched in a shiny gold. It glimmered, sitting in its casing.

Shuri laughed. Thank you."

"Sorry. Excuse my French. This is... remarkable. Can I give it to him?"

"I suppose so. It hasn't got much use just sitting in my lab."

Excitement grew in her chest. Bucky would be able to have an arm he was in control of, one that wasn't forcefully attached to him and used as a weapon. In a way, he would be gaining a sense of autonomy. God, she wanted to see him right away and tell him the news. She was happy to make Bucky happy.

"Oh," Shuri perked her head up. "And there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You're aware of the trigger words, correct?"

"Of course."

"I'm close to fully deconstructing the mind control, but there's no way to know for sure unless we test it out..."

Oh. The excitement dissipated and her stomach dropped. She didn't mean...

"You don't mean..."

"The effect and response of the words needs to be tested on him."

Oh God. There was no way this would be easy.

"And you need to be the one to do it."

Fuck.

"Me?" she tried to hide her shock, her worry, her now overwhelming urge to protect him. "How come?"

"It seems like he trusts you most out of everyone here. I consulted with the Doras about safety and we think that if something were to go wrong, it'd be safest to happen with you. Of course they'll be nearby, but you'd be the one mostly likely to be able to control him in that state."

Her mouth went dry. Control him? She could never. She would never. She knew, in depth, the anguish he carried in his bones as a result of being trapped as a weapon wielded by other people. The thought of her controlling him made her skin crawl.

She knew how much he feared the Winter Soldier and how he would hate losing touch with himself again. He's been free from this kind of violation for a while now; she had very much rather not take that freedom away.

At the same time, she understood how this test was necessary for a full recovery and rehabilitation. And who knows if the words will even work? Maybe she'll say them and nothing will even happen.

He would have to get over this obstacle in order to make it to the other side clean. She could only imagine how scary this would be for him. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to be right there with him.

"Okay," she said dryly. "When... when are we gonna do this?"

"Not yet but soon. I'll keep you updated."

The rest of the meeting carried on as usual, but Y/N might as well have not even been there. Her mind was off. Off somewhere trying to think of how to tell Bucky the news. The very last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt him. She'd take his place if she could.

—

As soon as she was free from the calm, professional facade she had going with Shuri, she found herself speed walking back to where Bucky was. She needed to get to him. Now.

When his hut was in sight, she was nervous. She was nervous before, she supposed. She just wanted everything to be okay.

"Buck," she called, a few steps away from the entryway. "I need to talk to you!"

When she stepped inside she froze in place, staring blankly at the two super soldiers in front of her instead of the one she expected. Two as in Bucky and Steve.

"Y/N," Bucky stood up. He sounded surprised.

"Oh-uh," she stuttered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back later."

"That's okay," Steve's voice was gentle. "I'll leave you... to it."

Steve threw Bucky a look she couldn't quite decipher before he left. Bucky just looked panicked.

And soon enough they were alone. They stood directly in front of each other, but with a noticeably awkward amount of space between them. The tiny part of her brain that was still mulling over the dream wanted him closer.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey..."

"You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's uh... there's kind of a lot."

"Look, about yesterday, I-"

Oh. She completely forgot about that. Well, not completely. There was no way she could forget that. But, at the moment there were more pressing matters on her mind.

"It's not about yesterday."

"It's...not?"

"No. I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Uh... bad news?"

She took a steady breath in. She wasn't sure exactly how to tell him, she just knew he needed to know. He deserved nothing but the truth.

"So, I was just with Shuri and we discussed the next step in your treatment..."

He said nothing, waiting for the aforementioned "bad news." She continued.

"Apparently, we have to test the trigger words on you..."

His expression dropped and she watched all the color drain from his face.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't wanna do it, but we have to do it to see if it's really outta your head."

"Yeah, that's the problem," he finally spoke. "What if it's not? Then I hurt someone - or multiple people. There's gotta be some other way to test it."

"You're not going to hurt anyone. Or multiple people."

"How can you say that?"

"It's just gonna be the two of us."

"What?!"

"Shuri thought the safest way of doing this was for me to conduct the test. That way, if things ever got out of hand, which is very unlikely to happen, I'd be the best bet at... handling... that situation. Since you know me the best."

"No way. There's no way. I thought you meant they were gonna strap me down and have some lab tech read them. This is way too unsafe-"

"Strap you down? Bucky, no-"

He still saw himself as an animal that needed to be contained. Muzzled.

"What if I hurt you?" his voice shook just a little.

The fear in his eyes was potent. It made her angry. Angry at Hydra and whoever the fuck else had a hand in this sin against the kind and gentle man who stood before her. The man who was genuinely scared of himself. How dare they make him feel so unsafe within his own mind, within his own body. All she wanted to do was make it better, and suddenly, she could no longer stand for the distance between them. She stepped forward and grasped his hand between both of hers.

"I trust you, Buck," she smiled a small but earnest smile, letting him know that she truly was here for him. "Entirely. I promise. Okay?"

He nodded, still reluctant and entirely scared.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I do. I trust you, I do," he cast his glance downwards, almost in shame. "It's myself I don't trust."

Her chest twisted with an emotion difficult to place. Mostly, it was the desire to take every ounce of pain away. She wished she could just snap her fingers and make it fade into nothing.

"That's okay," she said.

He looked back up at her, confused.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? I'm the one reading the words, so, even though I'd hate it, if you were to be... activated... you'd be listening to me not trying to fight me," she squeezed his hand. "And I will not let anything happen to you."

"I'm not worried about me..."

She knew. She was not stupid; she knew that Bucky was separate from the Winter Soldier and that theoretically, the Winter Soldier - and only the Winter Soldier - had the potential to hurt her. She wasn't blind to the dangers, but she also wasn't blind to the fact that there was no exact science to brainwashing. Whos to say nothing could ever seep through the programming? She knew what happened with Bucky when he was forced to fight Steve for the first time. How it changed him.

Even though the Winter Soldier was in there, there was more of Bucky. She knew that for sure. And she needed to make sure he knew one thing: even if the Winter Soldier was trying to claw his way back and entire world was against him, she saw Bucky and trusted Bucky and believed in Bucky. She was a constant. And she wouldn’t give up on him.

"What, you're worried about me?" she joked, lightheartedly. She took the hand she was holding and pressed it against her cheek. "This wouldn't hurt me, James Buchanan."

He sighed, feeling the warmth from her face. He did not deserve this kindness and he definitely did not trust himself despite her trust in him. Of course Bucky would never hurt her. But Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier. And he didn't have the heart to tell her what the Winter Soldier could or would do. He didn't have the stomach to even think about what would happen if the Winter Soldier actually did something.

But there was something about the way she believed in him, the way her conviction was so strong. It made him almost start to doubt these feelings. He could never be sure of everything being okay, but at least he could be sure of her.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay?"

"I'll do it."

"Alright," she smiled.

She removed his hand from her face, but still held onto it.

"And even if you did try to fight me, I think I could go a couple rounds in the ring with the Winter Soldier. I'm big and tough."

They both laughed knowing she had very minimal fight training.

"You'd definitely kick my ass," Bucky chuckled.

She just smiled. And then her eyes grew wide.

"Oh! You wanna know the good news?"

"F'course."

Bucky watched her briefly disappear through the entryway before returning with a big, rectangular case. He raised an eyebrow.

"That's good news? What is it, a bomb?"

"I don't do bombs... arson only."

The look on his face made her wonder if he actually questioned whether or not she was serious. She fought laughter as she opened the case. It was silent for a moment. Y/N looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Is that... for me?"

"All yours, Buck. A favor I asked of Shuri."

She told him about the arm. Told him about Shuri's design, and the features and functionality. She didn't mention what made her think to ask Shuri, but that surely wasn't important.

"It's really cool, and like super sleek and badass. But more importantly, it will make you feel more... I don't wanna say regular 'cause nothing about you is regular," a shy smile slipped. "But more... how you're used to having your body feel and function."

"That's..." he shook his head before looking up and making dauntingly deliberate eye contact. "Thank you. For thinkin' of me. I mean it. I hope it wasn't too much trouble for her to make it."

"Nothin's too much trouble, Bucky. You're worth it."

"You're a real peach, y’know that?"

Suddenly she looked abashed. Did he say something wrong?

"Sorry- I didn't-"

"No, it's okay. I just got a weird sense of déjà vu. Don't worry about it."

He looked at her like he didn't quite believe her, but she tried not to think too hard about it.

"So..." Bucky gestured towards the arm. "...what do we do with this?"

"You wanna try it on?"

His brows shot up. "Oh! I mean- sure- I guess so, yeah."

She tried to pick it up and nearly threw her back out. "Jesus!"

"Woah there, tiger," he withheld a laugh, putting a hand under the vibranium arm to hold most of its weight.

"Okay, sit down," she ordered, both of them fumbling to hold onto the arm. "Shuri told me how to get the arm on. There's some... magnetic thing. I don't even know - it was some complex engineering lingo. Not my field."

After a couple minutes, clumsy hands attempting awkward assembly, and several curse words later... the arm was attached. They both stood as Bucky stuck out the bionic arm, admiring it and Y/N leaned back, admiring him. Wow.

Bucky smiled, holding both his forearms out - palms facing up - to see how they moved. "This is incredible."

He turned to her. "You're incredible. Thank you."

"No problem at all," she stepped forward. "How does it feel?"

Her hands found their way below his, cupping the underneath of them with a feather light touch. "How do you feel?"

"More... balanced," he laughed. "Coordinated?"

"Steady?"

"Absolutely."

"Stronger?"

"Definitely."

She looked up at him. "Confident? More comfortable in your own skin? That's what's most important."

He gripped her hands. "For sure. Thanks to you."

"Glad I could help. Just wanna make you feel more like yourself, you know?"

"I feel the most like myself when I'm with you," he nearly whispered.

He smiled, and then did something... unexpected. He let go of one of her hands and with the other, he twirled her around as if they were dancing. She went along with the movement, body falling in sync it even though she was confused.

"You make me wanna dance again."

With his voice so endearing, and his heart so spirited, the world around them fell quiet. She stepped forward and rested her hand on his shoulder. Then she placed one of his hands on her waist, and held the other out to the side, fingers intertwined with hers. And oh, the feeling of his hands on her; it was nearly overwhelming.

"Then dance."

And they swayed. They swayed to nothing, to the sweet sound of finding comfort in another person. She let her eyes flutter shut, allowed her guard to come down for just a moment. Just this moment. With him.

Bucky broke the silence with a shy question. "So yesterday... what does that mean for-"

"Let's just keep it between us."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a moment - like this one. I think I think too much, and I may have overreacted before. It doesn't have to be some cumbersome ordeal. It's just us."

"We're good then?"

"We're good."

"Good. 'Cause I like this."

She inhaled and smiled at the feeling of him inside her lungs. They continued swaying as they continued talking.

"You were in my dream you know?"

"Was I?"

"You were."

"Could I fly?"

"No," she laughed. "You were - well we, actually, were walking to that lake."

"To swim?"

Not exactly...

"I don't know. It's kinda foggy and didn't make much sense since it was a dream but we were definitely there."

"Did I say anything existentially insightful?" he joked.

"I don't remember much of what we said, but I remember how it felt."

"How... how did it feel?"

There she went again. She could feel herself slipping, but found it hard to care. She closed her eyes, thinking back to hibiscuses and Bucky's arms.

"The water and sun on my skin felt kind of like this," her hands ran up his sides dangerously slow and settled behind his neck, finger tips tangling into the ends of his hair.

His breath faltered. "Is that so?"

Unconsciously, his other hand found her waist and somehow the little space between them grew even smaller.

"Mhm," she hummed. "and the sight of a flower in your hair felt kind of like this."

Her hands moved to cup his face, the soft skin of her palm settling on his jawline.

"It was so pretty," she sighed.

"Yeah... pretty," he agreed. But he wasn't talking about the dream or the flower.

"And... your arms and your hands... felt kind of like this."

Gently, she pulled his face down to hers, though he needed no guidance or encouragement. When their lips met, that feelings of incompletion and longing, which had been prickling the back of her mind since the previous day, finally went away. They dissolved into fingers pressing into her hips, soft stubble tickling her cheek, and the delightfully encompassing presence of him.

She wasn't sure how long it was until they separated and words were spoken again. All she really recognized what that she was out of breath.

"And to think I was going to apologize for yesterday," Bucky smirked.

"I had to return the favor."

"And I gotta make up for lost time"

"Well, please don't let me stop you."

And he didn't. They continued right where they left off, except this time, it felt much too similar to something she had felt before. Hands began to roam just like they did in her dream.

The only thing was, her dream was cut short. She had no idea how it ended. But his hands were everywhere and it was all her senses could register. He was everywhere: her lips, her neck, her collar bones. She was burning.

The air ran out of her chest, and her voice was barely a breathy sigh. "Don't stop."

She could feel his smile on her skin. "Wouldn't dream of it."

-

The next morning, she awoke entwined in his arms - both of them.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @small-death-and-codeine @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates @augustbucky @itsthemaree

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight - Prologue: Before

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC, Din Djarin x OFC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Trauma

Words: 2000

Summary: What's past is prologue.

There's a new trend since the fall of the Empire, everyone is rising from the dead.

She's haunted by memories of the Empire that abandoned her, he's plagued with thoughts of what if and doubts of the future. The stars align in a string of constellations which guide them to their fates, decided long before them. 

Tortured with echos of before, they're alone in an endless galaxy. But orphans have a funny way of finding each other, and the gods have a sick sense of humor.

Read on AO3 Here

Tatooine was the galaxy’s own personal hell, Mustafar at least had the pleasure of fauna. Demonic nightmarish fauna that was more than likely poisonous, but fauna nonetheless. Tatooine? Tatooine was a barren wasteland that had gone to the dogs, and even the dogs had decided they wanted no part in its misfortune. At least on Mustafar she could go inside and be relieved of the heat, at least Mustafar could be considered home. 

Or at least it used to be, before.

“Maker,” An assassin mutters, crossing over a sand dune. The red tracking fob in her gloved hand sounds, it’s light flashing a similar color. To her relief, she was close. The sooner to the target, the sooner she could leave and never set foot on sand again. 

She could count the total number of visits to Tatooine in her lifetime on one hand. The first she couldn’t have been more than fourteen, then again at an older age to meet with the Hutts. Nine years ago, her father had sent her on a reconnaissance mission to some abandoned moisture farm. It had been terribly boring, full of memories of family dinners and old beaten up droids.

The irony that that very mission essentially caused her to lose everything wasn’t lost on her.

Five years ago she sat in the very cantina she walks to, warned to run away. A mere twenty-one years old—give or take, her birthday after all was a random day chosen by her and the waking sun. There was no telling her true age, so with her knowledge of human anatomy and development, nine years ago she decided on being seventeen.

“Why seventeen?” He asks her. Entering hyperspace she sits behind him, tracing passing stars on the window.

“Because,” she begins matter-of-factly, “Seventeen is a completely insignificant year to be alive. Sixteen is old enough that I won’t be questioned for traveling alone, but still too young to be taken seriously. I’m not quite ready to be an adult yet, but next cycle I will be. So I am seventeen now, so that I may be prepared to be eighteen later.”

Eighteen hours later, the first Death Star exploded. 

The events which follow guide her on a fragile string of stars throughout the galaxy, the culmination of which lead her back to hell. Or Tatooine, as the New Republic liked to call it.

Maybe if she had listened things would have been different.

Or maybe they would be worse.

Either way she would be here. The designer of her cruel fate and dictator of her misery have decided this long ago. Forever would she be trapped in hell with her memories.

And everyone else’s.

Condemned to relive the worst of what humanity had to offer, over, and over, and over again. It wasn’t so bad anymore, it’s easy to get numb to that sort of thing when your entire life was filled with it. Still, out of all the places in the galaxy, why did it have to be Tatooine?

She could understand the appeal for those on the run. Away from the New Republic’s oversight, moisture farms as the only viable landmark, and everyone being too overworked to give a damn. Theoretically it should have been easy to hide, the only issue was every criminal in the Outer Rim had the same idea. Originality be damned.

A detached hood and mask shield her identity, not that she believed anything with a penchant of life would be anywhere near. All that surrounded her was sand, rocks, and sand. Still, she could never be overly cautious. Walking up to the cantina, her eyes roll. It was like they wanted to make her job difficult. She could only assume the bar would be crawling with other criminals. Defected imperials, thieves, murderers.

It could have been a family reunion.

Eyes fall on her entrance, the suns backlight her into a silhouette. She becomes the one cascade of darkness in the light of the desert. 

“Boys,” she greets, walking in. Her eyes scan the room, there couldn’t be more than ten men. She counts the passing of ten seconds before one approaches her. Within those seconds her mind remarks on the state of the bar, essentially unchanged. Same busted chairs, same creaking floors, same hideous decorations. 

“What’s someone like you doing here?” a man grunts, stalking up to her. The most she does to acknowledge him is an eye roll. He grabs her arm, holding her in place. “Does your daddy know you’re out here?” he asks, leaning down to her ear.

She mocks a laugh. “Does yours?”

The man spits at her boots. “Bitch,” he says, walking away from her. His spit slowly rolls off her toe, leaving a glimmering streak along the leather in its wake. She pulls her blaster out, pointing the gun behind her, she shoots the man in the back of the head. He drops, his body heavy with a thud. 

The cantina falls to silence. Nine bodies are now watching her. No one makes a move, even the bartender stops his clinking glasses. She’s almost inviting them to try her next.

“No?” She asks, holstering her gun. “Pity,” she mutters. 

She walks up to body number seven, he sits in the same spot she had all those years ago. She places her soiled boot on his seat, grabbing his attention. Motioning for him to stand, she barely makes eye contact.

 Her fingers run across the tables’ wood, rubbing over permanent stains and rotting cracks.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he says. He always worried too much about her, “Whatever he’s planning, you won’t come out of it.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore,” she says. “I can take care of myself now.”

“I know. That’s what scares me. You’re not safe anymore,” he replies.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been safe.”

Seven stares at her incredulously, slurping his liquor.

“Come with me,” his voice echos around her. If she closes her eyes it’s like he’s still sitting in front of her. Pleading.

“I don’t like making messes inside, it’s bad manners,” she says, reaching for her blaster. “Get up.” 

“Am I supposed to be scared, girl?” Seven asks. He scans her appearance and truth be told she was no Rancor, certainly no Hutt. While her build was athletic, her height physically left her the smallest in the room.

“You owe a lot of credits—” Seven stands, “—That’s better.” She drops her foot. “Now—“

“Step aside,” a modulated voice speaks behind her. She catches a reflection of the intruder in the glass of the framed artwork above Seven’s head. A Mandalorian, covered in pure Beskar, stands a whole head above her. Of course a fucking Mandalorian would show up right now, this had to be his doing. Even in the grave he had to fuck with her.

“Mando,” Seven laughs, he wipes his sweaty palms on his trousers. “I was uh, I was just talking to the missus here,” he grabs the girls shoulder. “Say, now’s not really a good time so how about we—“ 

“I don’t have time for this,” the Mandalorian says. He drops a bounty puck on the table, in blue holograms Seven’s profile appears.

WANTED: EDI MOURI 

“Let’s go,” Mando says.

The girl shakes herself from Seven. “Listen Shiny, I was here first so move along.” The Mandalorian’s head tilts.

“Are you with the guild?” He asks.

She picks up the bounty puck, examining the emblem. “Not yours.”

Mando’s head turns to One’s fallen body on the ground, a growing pool of blood by his head. 

“Your work?”

“You could say that.”

Seven clears his throat. Whispers of bets trail within the crowd. “In fairness. She did find me first.”

The pair are incredulous in their stare. “You want to go with the assassin?” Mando asks, a slight twinge of amusement escapes past his modulator.

Seven’s face turns to ice, his deep emerald skin becoming a pastel like hue. “On second thought. I always loved the Mandalorian stories I heard as a kid, I’m a big fan. Let’s go big guy.” He takes a step towards Mando, the assassin pulls out her blaster, pointing it to his head. At the same moment Mando pulls out his own, pointing it to her.

“Drop it,” he says. “I need him alive.”

She cocks her head to the side, pressing her forehead against the barrel of the gun. “Do it,” she purrs. 

He’s motionless.

She grabs the Mandalorian’s wrist with one hand, striking the bend in his arm with the other. A blaster shot fires, Three falls to the ground with a hole in his head. 

Mando lifts her by her neck and slams her into the table where Seven sits. Her vision flashes white and she groans on impact. Her hands fumble across the wood in frantic search of anything to defend herself with.

“Wait for me, I’ll come for you in two days.”

She smashes Seven’s plate against the table, shattering it. With a jagged edge of porcelain she slashes the Mandalorian’s arm, staining the edge with his red blood. In his stumble back she rolls off the table.

Harsh stabs are swung to the openings between the pieces of armor, he easily blocks but her movements are quick in succession. He ignites the flamethrower on his arm and she flips out of range.

Six isn’t so lucky.

She lands on his table, he’s charred and slumped over. She grabs a baton resting against his chair, cringing at its touch. Jumping of the table she strikes his helmet. The tune of impact horrifically melodic. 

Brought to his knees, Mando grabs her leg sweeping her onto her back. The baton falls out of her grasp. They tumble on the ground, scathing for any advantage they could find on the other. She slaps a taser disk on his armor, the shocks malfunction the electronics.

The Mandalorian lays on the ground, emitting heavy gasps for air. Sounds of passing credits come from a back table. She straddles him, pulling out the knife kept in the welt of her sleeve. It’s metal presses against his capes fabric gathered around his neck.

A smile twinges under her mask. “Not bad,” she pants, leaning down over him.

The cantina doors automate open, in perfect eye-line, a green little creature. It waddles in, cooing with bright eyes at the patrons, greeting them all. It locks eyes with her, head tilted. The veil of her mask conceals her dropped jaw. 

The Mandalorian takes the chance of her distraction; flipping their bodies over, he straddles her waist, pinning her hands above her head. The assassin’s chest rises and falls heavy from under him. “I told you to wait outside,” he grunts. The green thing coos, waddling to the pair. It reaches out for her. “No,” he says next, raising a scolding finger to it. It whines, plopping on its rear. 

Past the visor, his eyes lock onto hers, he clears his throat. Suggestive positioning aside, he had claim to victory. Though, had it not been for the child he would have been a dead man, throat slit under her knife. 

He could still kill her, his blaster was in reach, so was her knife. 

He should kill her.

But he doesn’t.

“Hey Mandalorian,” she breathes. “Where’s your bounty?” Seven’s seat empty, table broken, shattered porcelain fallen on the floor.

“Fuck,” he swears. He stands, pocketing the knife she held. He picks up the creature, sparing her one last glance. “Stay out of my way,” he warns. Exiting the building she’s left on the floor. 

The surviving witnesses avoid her glare. There are holes in the flooring, broken furniture, blood stains splattered on every surface.

So much for not making a mess indoors.

She scoffs, picking herself up. Her muscles ache, bruises are forming under her clothing, her head pounds.

Carelessly, she shoots Five on her way out.

It’s a redemption of sorts.

Officially, Tatooine was worse than hell.

Chapter One: The Meeting

[itsyetanotherpotterhead]

Marauders band Au, timeline of the band

Masterlist

Band AU masterlist

I wrote all of these songtexts myself, please don’t copy or steal them.

The Band Timeline is also mine

DISCLAIMER: the characters are not mine

I am no professional writer and English is not my first language, but I did my best. This is mostly in support of the Band AU series. Before using any of this for yourself, ask permission of me first.

I’m still writing the songs but school is kicking my ass so that might just take another week or two.

written on: February 1st, 2021

Posted on: February 14th, 2021

——————————————

The Marauders are one of the most popular bands of the past five years. James Potter (Prongs), Sirius Black (Padfoot), Remus Lupin (Moony) and Peter Pettigrew (Wormtail) have known eachother since they were seven, and decided to form a band ten years later, a decision they ‘never once regretted’

In 2016, the year they were formed, the boys were only seventeen years old. In August that year, they released ‘I solemnly swear...’, an album that was entirely written by the four themselves, an impressive feat for a bunch of teens. The album became an immediate hit, and managed to reach number one in over 20 countries. “‘Cause you’re my lifeline baby, so please don’t let go” could -and still can- be found all over Instagram. In less then a month, the four boys who dubbed themselves ‘The Marauders’ went from a highschool friendgroup to four teen idols. ‘We absolutely never expected that to happen’ Lupin told us in 2018. ‘The album was actually made as a dare, and we decided to do it professionally to see what would happen. This was more than we ever imagined it would become.’

Overwhelmed by their sudden fame, the four immediately began writing their second album, but due to pressure both from outside and inside the release was delayed twice. The album ‘Light’ was released November 2018, and became an even bigger hit than ‘I solemnly swear...’ . As we later learned, some lyrics referred to the alienation they felt after the enormous poparity of their first album. “Sitting there, so unaware//traces of who we once were” (Footprints), is the most popular example of that. Once again, they wrote all of their songs themself, with a bit of help from Blacks younger brother Regulus. The album had a light spirit, full of positivity and nostalgia.

Their third album ‘darling’ was released in March 2020. It was one of a kind. The boys, men at this point, wrote about love, and the struggles and pining that come with it. Once again, they wrote all of the songs on their own with again a bit of help from Regulus Black, who at this point had become a respected artist on his own. They were in love. This becomes clear at the first song ‘Darling’, opened with a few piano notes and a text (written by all four of them) that talks about the pining from afar that often comes with unrequited love. The only song that didn’t hold this vibe of a deep love was ‘Broken Hatred’ a song that leans to rock. It talks about the aftermath of a relationship that did not end well. It’s written by Sirius Black, and as he told us in an interview ‘I had been in that relationship for a long time and it ended really bad. Confessions is kind of a second part, where it becomes clear that most things were misunderstandings.’ Upon our question whether he got back with this mystery person Black answered ‘yes, we did get back together and we are now a lot more open with eachother. It’s like a new relationship altogether.’

The songs Sirius Black write always tend to have a darker tint, sometimes very well hidden. ‘And down on the ground//for everyone to see//were the shards of the mirror made for me’ is one example of that, as well as his part on the song ‘Evening Kisses’. Black took on the bad-boy image when he was seventeen and it aged beautifully. He is considered the flirt of the group, something that makes him very popular with teenage girls and quite a few teenage boys as well. He, like all of the other boys, has got a nickname: Padfoot.

James Potter is the fun-loving friend of the four. ‘James and Sirius pranked everyone during school. Absolutely everyone. It’s a wonder they didn’t get expelled’ (Pettigrew, 2018) He is the one that most often writes about relationships (he care up with ‘’Cause you’re my lifeline baby//so please don’t let me go’), which is funny because apparently he has never been in a serious relationship. His songs are beautiful and always have that little hint of playfulness. His nickname is ‘Prongs’

Remus Lupin is considered the mom friend of the group. when he was first told this back in 2017, he laughed before saying ‘I barely remind myself to go to sleep most nights. Although I do tend to mother over the others.’ His songs are often a bit shorter but he manages to capture a lot of feelings while using barely any words. The Marauders end all of their albums with a song co-written by Lupin and Black, a duo that can create tragedies in a three-minute song, something that is shown on ‘Jupiter’ (And no matter how much he tried//he would never be a star// never be quite as bright// not visible from afar). Remus Lupin was given the nickname ‘Moony’

Peter Pettigrew is a wonderful songwriter who comes up with genius rhyme ideas. ‘Peter can adapt to a lot of writing styles. He may not be listed as official songwriter on most songs, but he helped write almost all of them’ (Potter, 2019). His songs give a coffee shop kinda vibe, calm and still extremely homey. He plays the guitar and manages to create soft tunes that simply seem to flow into everyone’s hearts. Often, he also seems to be the glue that holds the four young men together. ‘After our first album we got into a lot of fights due to all the stress we got. I was often the one who made sure everyone made up again. (Pettigrew, 2018). His nickname is Wormtail, something that has raised a lot of questions over the years.

[startanewdream]

The other marauder

Summary: Harry is five when he asks what means Wormtail.

Harry is thirteen when he asks who is Peter Pettigrew.

Harry is seventeen when he tells James that Peter is dead.

(Or how James would have dealt with Peter's betrayal if he was alive)

Part of my Jily Lives AU series of one-shots! I would love to hear your thoughts about how James would react to Peter Pettigrew if he lived. 

Below the cut or over AO3 are just my thoughts (all 11k of them).

________________________

Harry is five the first time he asks about Wormtail.

It’s a September afternoon and the weather has been nice all week, so at the weekend they indulge themselves in a pool that James conjures in their backyard. It’s mostly for Harry’s sake and his son laughs as Sirius turns into a dog to jump in the pool, swimming and splashing water in them as he shakes himself dry. Harry’s happy giggles keep them all amused.

As the night falls and it gets cooler, they rest lazily in the lawn around a fireplace that Lily conjures for them, toasting marshmallows. James and Lily share a blanket, looking at the stars above them, while Sirius holds Harry, all wrapped in a towel, against his chest.

James is distracted, really, and he barely notes as Harry starts to read the numbers and phrases of the tattoos in Sirius’ chest. Harry had just started school that year and he had loved learning how to read and write - he was curious, his son…

‘Wormtail’, Harry reads out, and in the silence of the night, his high-pitched childish voice sounds louder. ‘What it means?’

He is looking at Sirius, expecting his godfather to answer him just like Sirius had explained patiently about his other tattoos, but Sirius doesn’t say anything.

Instead, Sirius looks gravely at James, who just blinks, equally speechless.

James doesn’t know how to answer that. He’d thought that Sirius had removed that particular tattoo a long time ago.

But now that he looks at Sirius’ chest, he sees the four names are still inscribed there, over his heart, like they’ve been since he was seventeen, each one handwritten by its owner. James doesn’t need to try harder to remember that cold December afternoon, when they were hanging freely in London and Sirius had declared he wanted a tattoo. He was the only one of them that was of age then, and James had watched rather enviously as Sirius got their nicknames tattooed in his skin, somehow making all of them really part of him.

James had promised he’d get a tattoo too, but he ended up forgetting and Sirius had always loved more tattoos than him anyway. In any case, James hadn’t thought about Sirius’ tattoos for ages.

Then he stares Wormtail’s name there along with the others, part of a group that he doesn’t belong to anymore.

That sight fills James with hatred beyond words.

At his side, sensing his stress, Lily touches the back of his head in a soothingly move.

‘It’s just a name, Harry’, she says dismissively, making Harry look at her.

‘Who is Wormtail?’, he asks, curious as always. Then he giggles. ‘It’s a funny name’.

‘He is gone’, James says dryly, and the tone of his voice makes Harry recoil against Sirius, clearly distressed over the idea of upsetting his father. Lily now presses his head with a little more strength, and James forces himself to relax. ‘It’s no one, Harry’, he adds more kindly.

Harry doesn’t look convinced, but he gives a tiny nod, staying in thoughtful silence then. His big green eyes are still fixed on Sirius’ chest and James sees he is reading the other words there, moving his lips silently.

James throws a shirt to Sirius after that.

Later, when he passes Harry’s room on his way to his own, he sees the light is on. That makes him frown, because Sirius had already tucked Harry for sleep, and Harry usually crashes after a day of activities.

When he opens the door, he sees Harry is on his desk by the window, his small legs swinging in the air as he busies himself writing something.

‘Harry?’, James asks, and Harry turns to him with a guilty expression that James thinks will need a lot of improvement if he wants to get away with pranks in the future.

Harry jumps to the floor, grabbing what he had written and hiding it hurriedly behind him.

‘Shouldn’t you be in bed?’, James adds softly, and Harry nods, running to his bed and getting under his blanket.

James comes to tuck him in again, passing his hands through Harry's hair to mess it, the way that always makes Harry laugh. Then his hand falls on Harry's tiny hand, where there is a crumpled paper.

'May I?', James asks. Harry bits his lips, looking very much like his mother when she is thoughtful, but he opens his hand.

James unfolds the paper to see that Harry copied Sirius' tattoo, writing in his trembling childish handwriting: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs .

He thinks of the night they signed those names on the Marauder's Map, a hundred years ago, and how, in that moment, it seemed they would all shine brightly forever.

He can feel Harry's eyes over him, apprehensive, so he forces himself to breath evenly.

'Nice letters', he says, letting the paper rest on the nightstand. 'You make your "g" like your mum's. Now, be a good boy and sleep, ok?'

'Dad?', Harry asks timidly. 'You are Prongs, right?'

James feels something heavy inside his chest, but he nods.

'Padfoot is Sirius' dog. And Uncle Moony is Uncle Moony'. James just acquiesces with his head, still silent. Harry's eyes are very big, the moonlight entering the bedroom and highlighting his young face. 'So who is Wormtail?'

James looks at Harry's face, at his curious innocent son, and, not for the first time, he asks himself what made Peter betray them.

What made him betray  James . Was that James' fault? Was it Peter's ambition?

He doesn't know and he fears he never will.

'When I was in Hogwarts, with Padfoot and Moony, we had another friend', he whispers, his voice shaking slightly. 'We called him Wormtail'.

'He was like you? A Gryff… Gryve…'

'Gryffindor', James completes for him, watching Harry beam at the word, his hand automatically reaching for the stuffed lion at the edge of his bed, that James takes to give to him, watching Harry hugging the lion. 'Yes, he was, and in our year too'.

'Then he was a lion like you!'

James closes his eyes briefly and he remembers their first transformation, when James had turned into a majestic stag and Sirius into a beautiful black dog and Peter had looked crestfallen at being a small rat. Sirius had teased him, but that had been one of few jokes that James had asked him to drop it.

Afterwards, James had found Peter and had reminded him of the great accomplishment he had achieved by turning into an animagus at the age of fifteen.

'You should be proud of being a rat', James had said and Peter had beamed, drying away the tears in his eyes.

James supposes he should have seen then. A rat.

'He was once', he says instead, because he always wondered where was the courage that the Sorting Hat had seen in Peter at age eleven.

'Where is he?'

'Gone'.

'Gone where?'

James lies down at Harry's side, his eyes on the stuffed lion, trying not to think of the index finger that was given to Peter's mother as the only piece of him they ever found.

'Do you remember when mum's cat was old? And he slept very deeply?'

'Oh. And he didn't wake up anymore'.

'Well, that is what happens when someone is gone. They sleep and they never wake up anymore'.

Harry frowns in concentration.

‘They are dreaming?’

‘Something like a very long dream, yes’.

'If I sleep now, I will wake up?'

James smiles softly and places a kiss on his forehead.

'You will', he assures.

'Mum was sad when the cat slept', Harry murmurs, still frowning in concentration. 'Were you sad when your friend was gone?'

Truth be told, James had not known about Peter's fate until two days later. The first of November had been a rush of meetings with Dumbledore then the Order then confirming everything was right with Harry and just trying to understand what had happened.

It was only on the next day that he found out that after making sure they were safe, Sirius had taken his motorbike and had gone after Peter alone.

He only had seen the pictures of the explosion in the papers the next day. Sirius had never talked to him about what happened, other than saying Peter had tried to escape and had exploded a gas pipe instead. Twelve people were killed, including Peter. A massacre and one of his best friends had turned into a mass murderer.

James had never really grieved for Peter and he had ignored all attempts of Peter's mother to contact him. He knew she would want answers he did not have.

He had felt a lot of things for Peter's betrayal and demise, but it never occurred to him whether sadness was one of them.

'I think so', he says, not wanting to lie to Harry despite knowing he won't ever fully disclose this story to his son. He thinks of happy nights in the Common Room, in the way Peter always smiled to him as if he would trust James to guide him in the dark. James wonders when that smile lost hope. Somehow, it feels that Peter died long before he blew up himself. 'Yes, I was sad'.

Harry gives him the stuffed lion.

'Here, have Godric', he says, as serious as he can sound. 'He will make you happy'.

James smiles and hugs the lion before returning him to Harry.

'I am already happy. You are safe, Harry, and that makes me happy'.

Harry yawns and holds his lion tightly. James rises, messing with Harry’s hair one last time.

'Now, good night, Harry'.

'You forgot -'

'You are right, sorry. Good night, Godric'.

Harry smiles quietly, closing his eyes and James watches him for a minute before closing the door.

Whatever else he would feel for Peter’s betrayal, he knows he can’t ever forgive Peter for risking his family.

____________________

Harry is thirteen when he asks who is Peter Pettigrew.

It's the end of July. Harry is happy, having the Weasley over for a birthday party. James watches amusedly as the Weasley twins are clearly plotting something (even after all these years James can still spot a prank miles away), when he sees Sirius has arrived.

Sirius hugs Harry and gives him his birthday present, but it's clear something is off with Sirius. Now James thinks about it, it's been over two weeks that he hasn't seen Sirius. It happens from time to time when Sirius is overcharged with his job at the Ministry, but usually, Sirius warns them before he is on a mission or if he will become unavailable.

Whatever it is, Sirius seems to be avoiding him purposely, going to talk to Remus in a low voice in a quiet corner. Whatever they are talking makes Sirius relax a little, then they both turn to look at James, who just stares back calmly. He knows Sirius will come to talk to him about what is bothering him.

They don't have secrets with each other.

So James waits and he isn’t really surprised when Sirius comes quietly to his side and requests a private word. His face is grave, without any shadow of a smile, as if James needs another sign that whatever it’s pestering him, it’s important.

They lock themselves in Lily's office and Sirius takes a deep breath, looking at James as if he wished more than anything he could be saying something else.

'Peter is alive'.

James blinks, for a wondrous second not understanding.

‘What Peter?’

‘Peter Pettigrew’.

‘That’s impossible!’

‘We have a witness that saw him early this month close to Ottery St. Catchpole. Older, balder, but, yes, it was him’.

‘Who? Who saw him?’

‘Bertha Jorkins’.

James snorts nervously.

‘Bertha? You know what she’s like, Padfoot. She can’t see the difference between a dog and a crup -’

‘I saw her memories, James, it’s really him’. Sirius sighs. ‘Don’t you think I wish he were dead too?’

‘Do you?’, asks James, because he remembers how Sirius never erased Wormtail’s name of his tattoo, but even as he asks he regrets his question.

‘I went  after him, didn’t I? I watched he blow up a whole street -’

‘But not himself, clearly!  How did you miss that?’

Sirius shakes his head, angry, though James can tell he is angrier at himself.

‘Well, he was a rat - I don’t know how he managed to explode and turn at the same time, but then again we did underestimate Peter a lot, right?’

‘We can’t do that again, Sirius! We can’t let him escape our fingers, not when…’

‘I  know, Prongs, I know. I’ve set a task force with Shacklebolt and Fudge is talking about even involving the Muggle Prime Minister this time… We’ll surround him and capture him. It’s just a matter of time’.

‘You said he was seen on Ottery St. Catchpole? That’s where the Weasleys live, we must -’

Sirius sighs heavier now, and there is a dark cloud on his face, one that looks a lot like that time when Sirius had pranked Snape into going to the Shrieking Shack. Guilt.

‘He is not there anymore, we’ve checked the city over and over - even the sewers, yes, but he is not in the region anymore’.

‘But we must tell Arthur, Ron can be in danger -’

‘Peter isn’t there, James, he… He was just probably searching for some information, Ottery St. Catchpole has one of the biggest wizarding communities and… When Bertha saw him, the Weasley weren’t even there. They were abroad’.

James remembers the prize that Arthur had won and their sunny trip to Egypt; he had been happy for them. But that…

‘That was two weeks ago!’, James cries, and Sirius flinches, but he nods. ‘You are telling me you withhold that for two weeks? What the hell is your problem, Sirius?’

Sirius crosses his arms.

‘That was classified, that’s the problem. We thought if we could trace him quietly, it would be better’.

‘Better for who? In case you forgot, your godson is a target for him!’

‘Harry was never in danger, James’, Sirius says quietly. ‘Peter was seen far from here and, well, if he’s been alive for the last twelve years, then he never once went after Harry’.

‘He is rat - he could be here or at Hogwarts and we wouldn’t -’

‘He is not here now, there is your love protection, remember?’, points Sirius, his voice much more soothing than James has ever seen him sound. He supposes years as Auror have made Sirius much better qualified to deal with stress. ‘And as for Hogwarts, once again, Harry was never in danger as far as we know. No unknown rat or crazy old man has come near him’.

‘But I can’t - Harry can’t return there, not -’

‘You are overreacting, James, and you know it. Harry will be under Dumbledore’s protection all the time at Hogwarts and there is something else’. He pauses, and then there is a tender smile on his lips. ‘Moony will be there too. Dumbledore asked him to teach Defense this year’.

‘Oh’, that brings a smile to James’ face as well. He knows how much Remus has been studying and how much he loves to share his knowledge with others. ‘ Finally. Remus must be so happy’.

‘He is excited, yes, but if you want to know the main reason he accepted was to watch out for Harry too’.

‘Remus knew too? So what,  everyone knew?’

‘Don’t be like that - we just tried to solve things before it got too complicated. But now -’

‘Now?’

‘Someone leaked it for the Daily Prophet’, Sirius admits, breathing heavily. ‘It will be on the front page tomorrow morning. And you know what that means -’

‘Panic’.

‘He got marked as one of Voldemort’s biggest supporters. Nonsense, we know, Peter was never the brightest, he wouldn’t be any better Death Eater… he was just in the right place. But it doesn’t matter, people will panic, I will get owls daily with people reporting they’ve seen him… It will be a mess’.

‘And it will be harder to find him now he knows he’s been hunted’, James muses thoughtfully. ‘I suppose none of the free Death Eaters are happy with him either’.

Sirius gives one of his bark-like laughs.

‘The traitor who helped lead Voldemort to his downfall? I bet not. They will think the traitor betrayed them too’.

‘As if…’ James sighs. Then he glances at Sirius speculatively. He knows what Sirius will say, but he can try. ‘I can help’.

‘No’, Sirius shakes his head. ‘You are too involved in this, and you know it. It will not do any good’.

‘I can’t just stay here knowing he is out there -’

‘See, that’s why I didn’t want you to know. Breathe, James. The Aurors are taking care of it, I am taking care of it and about Harry, I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to him. Not even if I need to be at his side all the time’.

‘He will love that’, James snorts. ‘But you are right, Harry will be at Hogwarts, the least we can do is… trust anything will happen’.

‘I hope not, Fudge is talking about putting dementors around Hogwarts for protection… Like I said, a mess’.

‘What good will dementors do?’

‘None, of course, but -’, Sirius flushes, looking guilty. ‘It’s not like we can just tell them about Peter, right? It would lead to too many questions, and Remus -’

‘I know’, James agrees, sighing. ‘We will just have to be careful. Harry will need to be more careful if a mass murderer is after him, he can’t be out after hours or going in his trips outside the castle - or, damn it, there are Hogsmeade trips this year - ‘

‘Don’t forbid him of going’, says Sirius, frowning. ‘Or you will just make him find a way of going without you knowing’.

‘He wouldn’t if -’

‘If you tell him what’s going on?’, Sirius challenges. ‘Are you going to tell him the whole story?’

James doesn’t say anything, but Sirius already knows the answer.

‘That boy may have Lily’s sense of responsibility, but he is also your son and I know you will be disappointed if he never finds out one of the secret passages out of the castle - do you really want to test him?’

James chuckles against his will.

‘Fine, he can keep Hogsmeade trips, as long as it’s safe. I just can’t help but think… who knows how Peter Pettigrew’s mind is after all this time? What if he thinks that getting Harry will bring Voldemort back?’

‘He was never the most brilliant, James’, Sirius repeats derisively.

‘Still, twelve years of brooding Voldemort’s fall… he bet all on Voldemort, didn’t he?’

‘He bet wrong’, Sirius says, his voice resolute. ‘Now, can we let this go for now? It’ll be in tomorrow’s paper and I just want a moment to celebrate my favourite godson’s birthday’.

‘He is your only godson’, James notes, more at ease with Sirius’ joke.

‘Only because you and Lily stopped too early’.

‘Remus would be the next godfather’.

‘You wouldn’t dare!’.

James laughs, without answering.

They go back to the party, and once in a while, James thinks Harry is looking at him, but whenever he looks back, Harry is already doing something - talking animatedly to Ron or even coaching a blushing Ginny to play Exploding Snap.

There is no talking of Peter Pettigrew for the night, until later when they are in their bedroom, and James tells Lily the news that Sirius brought.

Lily turns to him then, her green eyes full of worry.

‘We should tell Harry’.

‘There is nothing to tell him’, whispers James. ‘We don’t know if Wormtail will go after him’.

‘What does your heart tell you?’

James closes his eyes, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

‘I think it’s not a coincidence he has been sighted after all these years’.

‘That’s what I thought too. I can talk to Harry if you want’.

‘No, I will - it’s my… my burden. Just give me some time, ok?’

Lily sighs and nods. James can feel her watching him, but he doesn’t open his eyes.

‘And how do you feel about that?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘About Peter being alive. You never dealt with it, James, not really’.

‘He was a traitor’, James mumbles, his voice full of repulse. ‘There was nothing to deal with. He betrayed us then he died. Or so we thought, but I didn’t care he was dead’.

‘Didn’t you?’, she asks softly, and James doesn’t answer her.

It seems there are a lot of things he doesn’t want to say, so after a minute, Lily turns off the lights. She hugs him in the dark, her hand caressing his, and James pretends he doesn’t care at all that Peter is alive.

Lily pretends she doesn’t know he cares, so it works for everyone.

The next morning, when they are in the kitchen for breakfast, Harry jumps from his chair as soon as the morning owl comes with the Daily Prophet.

‘Thanks’, he says to the owl, watching it fly away. Then he opens the newspaper. ‘Wow. Who is Peter Pettigrew?’

James grabs the Prophet. There is a big photo of Wormtail, blinking at him.  Peter Pettigrew is alive and on the loose, the headline says.

He looks at the face he hasn’t seen in the past twelve years, having even stored all photos in which he was together with them. James had worked really hard to delete from his existence the fact that he was once friends with Wormtail, and still Peter managed to crawl back in his life.

‘Friends don’t leave’, he remembers saying to Peter a long time ago, and James can’t help but find the irony there.

It’s an old photo, of when Peter was twenty, young and looking so fragile. He wonders how Wormtail is now. Sirius described him as older and balder, and that thought fills him with anger. He remembers the old Order, how many of them were killed, and James asks himself - as he always does when his thoughts steer in that direction - how many died because  he was once friends with Peter Pettigrew.

‘Dad?’, Harry asks again, and James sees Harry is watching him carefully.

‘He was a Death Eater’, Lily answers for him, taking the newspaper from his hand and replacing it with a cup of tea. ‘One of Voldemort’s followers. He got famous for - ’, Lily looks briefly at James. ‘ - for murdering twelve people with a single curse’.

‘Twelve people?’, Harry repeats, astonished. ‘With one curse?’

‘Yeah, and for all these years we thought he had killed himself also. But now -’

Lily shrugs at the newspaper, folding it so Peter’s face is hidden. Harry grabs the Prophet, his eyes scanning fast the news. 

‘Sirius is after him?’, he asks, and James wakes up.

‘They are sending the best Aurors’, he says in the lighter voice he can manage.

‘I am sure your godfather will catch him in a blink’, adds Lily, in the same tone as James.

Sirius hasn’t caught Peter in the two weeks of advantage he had,  James thinks darkly, but he doesn’t say anything. With luck, Peter has left the country by now. He was never the bravest; he wouldn’t face a manhunt for him.

Harry is nodding, looking strangely excited at the thought of his godfather going after a famous murderer, and Lily looks at James as if expecting him to tell now and then that Pettigrew may be after Harry.

It’s still early August, James thinks. There is still time.

August passes by in a blink, and Lily is throwing looks at him that are more and more worried than before, but still, James can’t force himself to say anything to Harry.

Then Sirius comes to the news that Fudge has not resisted public pressure and he decided to place dementors around Hogwarts for “protection”.

‘Everyone agrees that he is after Harry’, Sirius explains in a quiet voice. He looks more tired than James has ever seen him, and he guesses easily that Sirius must be double-shifting in his search for Pettigrew.

Sirius is the only one that is almost as upset as James by Peter’s betrayal. James thinks it’s not fair; he never blamed Sirius for suggesting the exchange of Secret Keeper - it was a good plan.

James only blames himself for not seeing how excited Peter had been at the idea, how he trusted the most precious things in his life for someone he thought he was a friend.

The mistake is on James, not on Sirius.

‘It’s silly, we have no evidence that it’s more likely he may go to Hogwarts than anywhere else, and Dumbledore was furious’, Sirius is saying, dismayed. ‘But Fudge is sure that he is after Harry, and you know Fudge -’

‘He likes to show that he is doing something, yes’, James completes. He doesn’t have much contact with the Minister of Magic, but Sirius doesn’t seem impressed by him and James trusts Sirius’ opinion. ‘So what now?’

‘Now we hope the dementors at least catch Peter if he is dumb enough to bump into them. But it will be miserable at Hogwarts this year, that I give you. I  hate dementors’.

‘Me too’.

‘Every time I have to go to Azkaban... God, I hate that place. I don’t think even filthy like my dear cousin Bellatrix deserves it’.

‘Peter might’, James says quietly. ‘Or not, he won’t feel anything probably -’

‘James…’

‘What? We always protected him so it was not like he could have bad memories of school or of the war. And then what, do you think he regrets telling Voldemort? You think it’s a bad memory for him? It was probably the happiest moment of his life, delivering the Potters…’

‘James’, Sirius calls him again, louder so James can’t ignore him this time. ‘I don’t care if it will affect Peter or not, and neither should you. It’s not our problem anymore’.

‘It will always be my problem’.

‘It’s only his problem. See, thoughts like that… Lily is worried about you’.

James rolls his eyes.

‘You two have been talking behind my back?’

‘Yes’, Sirius admits shamelessly. ‘It’s what we do when you don’t talk to any of us’.

‘I am talking with you right now’.

Sirius raises his eyebrows.

‘We can talk about the map of Hogwarts you have been studying in the library’.

James flushes.

‘It’s nothing. Just a silly hobby’.

‘It’s silly’, Sirius agrees. ‘Studying Hogwarts’ pipelines? There was a bloody basilisk in them, and you think you might find Peter like that?’

James doesn’t answer.

‘You will get crazy if you try to catch him like that, James, trust me. It’s like catching smoke with your hand. Now, if you want to do something useful… Have you talked to Harry?’

‘If you’ve been talking with Lily, you know I haven’t yet’.

Sirius just looks at him, expecting, and James sighs. ‘I will talk to him tonight’, he concedes.

Still, James delays the moment as much as he can, until, right after Harry turns in for the night, he sees Sirius and Lily looking at him, both with identical reproval looks on their faces.

‘I hate when you join forces against me’, he mumbles, but he goes.

As much as James doesn’t want to talk to Harry about it, he knows it’s for the better.

He knocks on Harry’s door, opening to find Harry already with his pyjamas, lying lazily on his bed.

‘Dad?’, Harry asks, surprised. Then he smirks. ‘Coming to tuck me in? I am a little bit older for that’.

James laughs easily, sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed and arraying the blanket over Harry, making his son roll his eyes.

‘You are never too old’.

‘This is silly’, Harry disagrees, moving so he messes all the work James had done with his blanket. ‘What is it?’

‘Maybe I just want to wish you a good night’.

‘You already said it downstairs’.

‘Or maybe I came to see if you want a bedtime story’.

‘I’m thirteen’, Harry notes, exasperated.

‘Even for a Marauder’s tale?’, James asks in a soft voice. Harry blinks, and James can see the interest in there.

‘I could listen to one’, Harry says in a nonchalant voice. ‘Just because you love them so much’.

‘Put on my account, yeah’, James almost smiles. Then he looks at his own hands. ‘Did I ever tell you about the Marauder’s Map?’

‘I think Sirius mentioned a map once’.

‘We lost this map so many years ago that we tend to forget… Well, it was the other half of our secret to perfect pranks. The first one you know’.

‘The Cloak’, Harry guesses.

‘Yeah… you see, this map was just as amazing, and maybe even a little more, because we created it from scratch. It was a map of Hogwarts, showing every corridor, every room, but the most amazing thing - it showed where everyone was. There were small dots with everyone’s names, in real-time’.

‘Wow!’, Harry looks impressed. ‘How did you do it?’

‘A combination of good spells, our talents, plenty of time to spare, my Invisibility Cloak so we could walk around… It was supposed to be our legacy’.

‘And how come I don’t have this map?’, asks Harry, sounding outraged. James chuckles lightly.

‘Because we lost in our Seventh Year. Filch got it - I don’t think he understood what it was, but he was smart enough to see it was important. Well, by then we were leaving Hogwarts and we had more pressing things to care about anyway’.

Harry shakes his head in fake devastation.

‘You should have thought about your future son’.

‘I was eighteen, Harry, you can be sure I didn’t think about kids’, James says playfully. ‘Well, we enjoyed the Marauder’s Map while we could. It saved us a lot of times of being caught, especially when we got separated…’

‘What do you think happened to it?’

‘It’s probably gathering dust in Filch’s office. If you happen to find an old harmless parchment lying around, that’s it… and you will see it’s signed with our names. Well, nicknames. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and…’

‘Wormtail’, Harry finishes for him, in a low voice.

James sighs, looking back at Harry.

‘You remember’, he says, and Harry just nods. There doesn’t seem to be any special acknowledgement in his eyes, so James just adds, in the most casual voice he can manage. ‘Well, we four did it. It was the greatest Map ever. There were all these secret passages in and outside school too’.

‘The ones you don’t want to tell me about’, Harry notes, just a touch of complaint in his voice.

‘I told you to explore and I gave you my Cloak, didn’t I?’. He smiles. ‘You got to deserve knowing the passages, kiddo’.

‘I’ve explored Hogwarts’, Harry says, with a note of pride in his voice that James knows is for his father more than for himself.

‘The Marauders never found the Chamber of Secrets, I will give you that’, James agrees.  

Harry smiles bashfully. James shakes his head at the adventures his son had, then he sighs. 

‘But this year I will have to ask you to suspend your explorations, Harry’.

Harry just blinks.

‘There is something I’ve got to tell you, and I’m sorry to have postponed so much, I just didn’t want you to worry during summer -’

‘Dad’, Harry cuts him off, looking guilty. ‘It’s fine. I  know’.

‘You know? How could you?’

‘I heard you and Sirius talking on my birthday’, he admits. ‘I know I shouldn’t, but I heard my name and… I know Peter Pettigrew is after me’.

Now it’s James’ turn to blink.

‘What else did you hear?’

‘Only that “a mass murderer” is after me’, Harry repeats, a little unfazed, as if it’s no big deal that he is the target of a mass murderer. In his case, James thinks, it’s not the first time. ‘Is there more?’

Once upon a time James looked at Peter’s face, at his friend’s face, and  asked him if he could do him the greatest favour of being their secret keeper.

‘It will be dangerous, I know’, James had said, not wanting to lie to Peter. ‘And I know it’s too much, Peter, but I wouldn’t ask if -’

‘James’, Peter had said, placing a hand on his shoulder, looking much more valiant than James had ever seen him. ‘I would do anything for you, you know that. You can trust me’.

James had trusted him and seven days later Voldemort had walked effortlessly into his house.

‘No, that’s it’, James whispers, knowing perfectly well what he is lying about. ‘We are just worried because he was a huge supporter of Voldemort and… well, he lost everything right after Voldemort lost to you, so -’

‘Let me guess, another crazy person who thinks I somehow can bring Voldemort back to power’.

‘We think so’, James agrees. ‘There will be extra protection in Hogwarts this year, so I ask you to just be equally extra careful, ok? Just be a good boy for once and stay inside the castle, or with people around you -’

‘I’m not scared’, Harry says.

‘I know you are not. But I want you to promise… don't go looking for Pettigrew'.

Harry opens his eyes, startled.

'Why would I go out looking for someone who wants to kill me?', he asks, and James just looks back at him, without answering. After a few seconds, Harry grins. 'Ok, I get it, I have a bad record'.

James lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

'You are notorious for acting first, think later. Hum, I wonder where that impulsive trace came from'.

Harry laughs.

'Mum, probably', he teases. Then his face softens. 'You don't need to worry, Dad. I am sure Sirius will catch him easily'.

'I trust Padfoot too'. There is a moment of silence. 'You still haven't promised'.

'Oh, you are right. I promise to behave this year'.

'Not too much, you can pull off a prank or two', James says, grinning, and Harry winks at him. 'Well, I think I will let you rest now. See if we can be on time this year in King's Cross'.

Harry flushes. They are always late because of him.

'Good night, Harry'.

'Night… hey, dad?'

'Yeah?'

'If you are a stag and Sirius is a dog, that friend of yours, Wormtail, was he an animagus too?'

James' throat is suddenly dry and he stops at the door to turn to Harry.

'Yeah, he was a rat', he whispers. 'Let me know if you see any strange rat around you, ok?'

'Isn't he… I mean, I thought he was dead'.

Harry says the last word in a low voice as if he feels guilty of remembering his father that his friend is dead.

Harry's eyes look so full of concern for him, so much like Lily's eyes, that he can hear her voice in his head, telling him to tell Harry the truth about Pettigrew and Wormtail, to explain to him what happened.

What James did.

How he didn't realize one of his best friends was a spy who sold James' family in exchange for power.

How he dared doubt Remus, while the real traitor was being cherished as a brave hero for keeping the most important secret.

How James would have died for Peter.

He can't face Harry. He can't tell him that truth.

'My friend is gone, James says at least. 'But you never know. Watch out for unknown rats, ok?'

Harry nods and James closes the door silently.

__________________

It’s not the first time the school year ends with James visiting the hospital wing in search of his son, but this is the first time he meets Sirius there.

‘Prongs -’, Sirius starts, looking guilty and trying to rise from the bed he was laying on, but James just shakes his head. Sirius’ head is all bandaged, and, from what Dumbledore told him, it was a nasty blow, along with many other cuts in his body.

Later, James will tease Sirius for being an old man that can’t even deal with a werewolf anymore, but now James is not in the mood.

‘Just rest, Padfoot’, he says dismissively. ‘Are you ok?’

‘I am, but -  he was here and -’

‘I know what happened. Dumbledore told me’. James presses his lips for a moment. ‘Where is Harry?’

Sirius winces at the tone of James’ voice.

‘He was released early this morning, but James… Come on, it’s not his fault’.

‘Which part? Going after Wormtail or almost being kissed by a dementor?’

‘Everything’, Sirius says softly. ‘He saved more than one life yesterday, you know. You should be proud of him’.

‘I will be prouder when he ends a year without me needing to pay him a visit in the hospital wing. Now, do you know where he is?’

Sirius sighs.

‘Try the lake. I think he will be there with his thoughts after last night.

James wonders what is in the lake that would particularly attract Harry, but he just nods, leaving the infirmary.

The truth is he is  mad. He woke up to a letter of Dumbledore, calling for him and Lily at their earliest convenience. James had recognized the tone of Dumbledore’s letter - it spoke of Harry getting into some adventure that he should not have.

Except he would not classify everything that had happened the night before as one of Harry’s adventures. It was much more a suicidal attempt because he could not fathom any good reason for his son to go after Peter Pettigrew - after promising he wouldn’t -, drawing Sirius’ attention, then Remus and, for some baffling reason,  Snape.

And then, as if that was not enough, even though Harry had managed, with his friends and Sirius and Remus, to catch Peter, he had slipped out of their fingers and everyone was almost kissed by one hundred dementors.

‘How?’, Lily had asked, her face pale and troubled, grasping James’ hand with such force that it was stopping his blood circulation. ‘How did they escape the dementors?’

‘They had time’, Dumbledore had answered enigmatically.

James had no time for deciphering enigmas. He had left to check on Sirius and to find Harry. He needed to understand why Harry had put himself in so much danger, over and over, and what had made him go chase after Peter Pettigrew when he knew the danger Peter represented.

And it had been all for nothing. Wormtail is still at loose, still a  danger, still unpunished for everything he did. And he got so close to Harry, whose life he once offered freely to Voldemort, even after assuring James he would protect it with his last breath…

The sun makes James blink blindly when he leaves the castle. It’s a beautiful hot day, and he sees a line of students going in the direction of Hogsmeade - it's probably the last trip of the year there.

With a guilt jolt, he thinks of revoking Harry's permission to go to Hogsmeade after there was a sight of Wormtail there. It turned out to be an unfounded rumour, but James had not been thinking straight.

He was never really able to when it involved Wormtail.

Harry had been furious at being forbidden from going to Hogsmeade and even Lily had not supported his decision then. Considering Harry had ended up meeting Wormtail at Hogwarts grounds, even if they went to the Shrieking Shack, he supposes he was on the wrong on that one.

He finds Harry easily after a few minutes, under the shadow of a tree with Ron and Hermione. They both raise when they see James approaching, and they each place a supporting hand on Harry's shoulder.

The sight fills James' heart with sudden warmth. He loves Ron and Hermione and he loves to watch them together. That trio has nothing to do with the Marauders, really - he can point out some similarities if he must, but they are altogether a different group.

And still James sees that, with Ron and Hermione, Harry has the kind of friendship that James himself found with Sirius and Remus. That friendship that will last a lifetime, through troubles and doubts.

His anger lessens a little.

Ron and Hermione whisper something to Harry and he sees his son nodding. They leave Harry, passing James with just a greeting with their heads. For some reason, Ron flushes when James waves back, looking strangely guilty.

'He thinks it's his fault', Harry explains, and James sees he was watching him from his place at the ground. Harry doesn’t raise. 'For not noticing what Scabbers was - well, that he wasn't a normal rat'.

'Nobody blames him', James whispers, sitting right next to Harry, who turns to the lake once more, seeming fixed on the sun shining in the water. 'Now - care to tell me what happened?'

'You are angry', Harry notes, with a sigh.

'Of course I am angry. I told you not to go after Pettigrew and what did you do?'

'I promised I wouldn't go after Pettigrew, but last night it wasn't him I was after. I was chasing  Wormtail'.

James feels the jab, even though Harry doesn’t sound particularly accusing.

'Harry -'

'And he had Ron', Harry adds simply. 'He knew I would go after Ron - he told me you would have done the same for him'.

James breathes heavily.

'I would'.

'Why didn't you tell me the story, dad?', Harry asks, sounding hurt, and he turns to James. 'Why did you never tell me that Peter Pettigrew was Wormtail - and everything he did?'

James presses his lips for a moment.

'It wasn't your burden to bear. This was on me. It wasn't you that he betrayed, Harry'.

'I don't think he sees that way', Harry sighs. 'He tried… well, let me tell you the whole story, ok?'

Harry waits until James nods to begin his tale of the last night.

He tells James how he, Ron and Hermione had broken the rules to do company to Hagrid because Buckbeak would be executed and how they had found Scabbers hiding in there. They had tried to return to the castle, but Scabbers had shrieked and bit Ron and then -

'He turned into a man', Harry whispers. 'It was nothing like that photo on wanted posters, I didn't even recognize him right away…'

Harry tells how Pettigrew dragged Ron to under the Whomping Willow, how Hermione's cat had helped them find the secret tunnel and then they had ended up in the Shrieking Shack.

'He said he just wanted to  talk, but he looked crazy like… he kept babbling and seeing shadows and he called me by your name more than once'.

'We do look alike', James notes dully. 'And then Sirius came?'

Harry sighs and he explains that Sirius and Remus had followed them.

'Wait, how did they know where you were?'

Harry looks guilty at that.

'Because Remus had the Marauder's Map'.

'What? He found it? He never -'

'He got from me', Harry admits, his voice dropping shame now. 'I… It came to me in December, after...' Harry stops and looks at him with deep sorrow. 'I am  sorry, Dad, I really am, I should have told you sooner, but - let me go back at the beginning…'

Then Harry tells, sounding really remorseful, how he got the Marauder's Map (though he doesn’t share names, because Harry is loyal), how he was upset that James had forbidden him from going to Hogsmeade and how he had used the Map to go to Hogsmead secretly and then he had listened to the story of how the Potters had been betrayed by one of their closest friends.

And how Harry had understood how Wormtail, whose name was written on the Marauder's Map, had been responsible for almost killing them.

'That's why you were withdrawn at Christmas', James says, finally understanding why Harry had seemed upset - he'd thought it was only because of the Hogsmeade permission and because of the accident with Harry’s broom.

'I couldn't tell you what I had heard', murmurs Harry. 'And I knew you never liked to talk about it, so… well, anyway, I had the Map until April only -'

As Harry continues his story, James thinks he will have a serious conversation with Remus about friendship coming before being a professor (though Remus will say that as Harry's teacher he shouldn't also share a Marauder’s secret - it's complicated, he supposes).

Then Harry talks about how Sirius and Remus incarcerated Peter.

'He kept telling he wanted to tell his story, that he was sorry, so sorry', Harry whispers. 'And I asked them to let him, I thought… maybe there was some excuse, maybe we had understood all wrong somehow… And he tried to explain, Wormtail, he told your story… how you turn into animagi for Remus... how he was always your friend and how Voldemort had tricked him…'

James' hand acts on its own, raising to grab Harry's shoulder. Harry turns to him with a sad smile.

'I think they wanted to believe him', he whispers. 'Remus and Sirius, I mean. Pettigrew kept talking about being sorry for everything, how he never wanted to betray any of us, and - there was a moment where Sirius and Remus lowered their wands… then Snape came'.

And with evident annoyance, Harry tells how Snape had come and had belittled them for being stupid enough to fall for Pettigrew's fake weakness again and how Sirius and Snape had fought.

'Snape cast this nasty spell, he hit Sirius… then I disarmed Snape, except Ron and Hermione did too, and he fell unconscious'. Harry rolls his eyes, unconcerned. 'I saw Snape last night, he is not happy with me. Not that he ever is -'

'So you jinxed your professor', James notes, thinking he should sound stern, even if he doesn't really understand why Snape had to stick his nose on that story when it had nothing to do with him.

'Yeah', Harry blushes, at least not seeming proud of it. 'Then…'

He tells how they revived Sirius and how Sirius had actually said Snape was right. They shouldn't trust Peter again.

'Wormtail screamed like if Sirius was giving him a death sentence', Harry whispers, his voice distant. 'And it was… he begged them, and he begged me, he said… he said you would have understood. You would have forgiven him'.

James' grasp on Harry is harder, but Harry doesn't seem to notice.

'Sirius told me Peter would have watched me die, would have watched you die, without turning a hair because he valued his life more than any of ours. He accused Wormtail of selling information for Voldemort for at least one year before his downfall…'

'We always knew there was a spy', James says, forcing himself to release his hand on Harry's shoulder so he doesn’t hurt him without meaning to. 'But I could never believe it was one of them… any of them'.

'He admitted', Harry says, with a grimace, as if he wished he was saying something different to his father. 'He confessed he was the spy and that he had been almost ever since leaving school… and he asked what he should have done, with Voldemort gathering so much power'.

'He should have died', James whispers. 'Died rather than betraying his friends, because -'

' - that's what you would have done for him', Harry finishes for James, with a sigh. 'That's what Sirius said. Then Remus told him that he should have known… if Voldemort didn't kill him, they would. They raised their wands… and that's where I stopped them. I placed myself in front of their wands, in front of Wormtail’.

'You?', asks James, surprised. He'd thought sense had come to Sirius and Remus.

'I told them you wouldn't like them to become murderers because of him. I - I thought how you once saved Snape from Sirius' prank because you didn't want any of them to feel guilty of killing someone and how… even if you never liked Snape, there are some lines you don’t cross'. Harry pauses, looking more troubled than any fourteen-year-old should feel. 'Was I wrong?'

There is a desperate need for validation on Harry’s face, but James looks beyond his son, over the lake, and if he closes his eyes he can hear the sound of four teenagers sharing a carefree laugh at the edge of the lake.

There are many questions he would like an answer to, but the one he always comes back to is “why?”. Somehow, he doubts even Wormtail really knows why he did everything and why he betrayed his friends.

And if Wormtail was right in front of him - older and weaker and alone -, James likes to think he would have felt the same pity that Harry felt. In the end, Wormtail did not win in what mattered the most. Harry is alive. 

And Prongs, Padfoot and Moony are still together.

'No, you did right', he whispers. 'I never thought if I wanted him dead or not - there was so much happening right after Voldemort fell, that the first time I thought about him was when Sirius came to tell us he was dead. I guess I was just so used to him being dead that I never wondered if... If I got the chance, if I had him at my mercy… I don't know. I like to think I would have done the same'.

He hears Harry breathing again at his side.

'I thought about the dementors and that if someone deserved Azkaban, it would be him', Harry explains. 'But then all hell broke loose’.

Then Harry finishes the story as James had heard already from Dumbledore, telling about how Remus forgot to drink his Wolfsbane Potion and how Pettigrew had escaped, but the dementors had been drawn to his presence anyway.

‘It was chaos’, Harry says in a low voice. ‘Sirius had drifted away to control Remus and it had worked because the werewolf ran to the forest, but Sirius was hurt -’

‘It was always a two-man job’, James notes. ‘Or two animals. With only one of us it was too difficult, and the werewolf was not used to being controlled after years of Wolfsbane Potion’.

Harry sighs.

‘And then the dementors came. I don’t think they cared who they were kissing, and I tried to cast the Patronus just as Uncle Moony taught me. But… I couldn’t’.

James feels goosebumps over his body, imagining the despair Harry must have felt then, with a hundred dementors upon him and Sirius - but he has no idea how they escaped.

‘And what happened? Snape -’

‘No, he was still knocked out… I was almost losing consciousness too, but then I saw…’ Harry smiles now, looking at James with nothing but love in his eyes. ‘ You. Prongs saved us’.

James blinks, confused. ‘I wasn’t there - what do you mean?’

Harry lifts his wand and points to the lake.

‘Expecto Patronum!’, he cries, and from the point of his wand, somehow brighter than the sun reflecting in the lake, comes out a beautiful stag, who runs to the lake before vanishing in a wisp of air.

A warm feeling spreads through James’ body and he stares at the place the Patronus vanished, somehow as lost for words as he felt the first time he ever saw Harry, just after he was born. He remembers looking at that tiny fragile baby, all wrapped in a blanket and crying out loud, knowing no words could explain what he was feeling then. They, he and Lily, had made that precious thing.

‘He is perfect’, was the first thing he said after several minutes, when Harry was quieter and Lily had helped him hold his son for the first time. James’ arms were trembling, but he managed to hold Harry, until his son slept in his arms.

James loves Harry ever since he knew of his existence, but there are moments where that love threatens to overwhelm and scare him a little too. He understands his love for his parents, for his friends and for Lily. But that paternal love for Harry - a mix of his desire that Harry gets to be free to live fully, but also a need of protecting him against all evil, so nothing can ever hurt him - he feels he will never be able to truly understand.

And now, seeing that Harry’s Patronus is his stag, it’s James, really, he feels that his desire of protecting Harry is being achieved. He will always be with Harry.

Harry begins talking again, explaining about Time-Turners and James refuses to think of the time paradox there, instead focusing on the satisfied smile that comes out on Harry’s face as he speaks of saving Buckbeak, and then how he accepted he couldn’t try to change time to catch Wormtail.

‘I couldn’t risk’, he says, distressed. ‘Hermione was right, if anyone saw us, if I changed anything - Sirius could be kissed’.

And so could Harry, but James knows Harry always thinks of others first. His son is too selfless sometimes, but as much as this worries James, it also fills him with a burning pride.

‘When the time came, I kept thinking you would appear, until - until I finally understood. I had seen myself - but also you too. And I thought about how you were always there for me, how much I wanted - I wanted to be like you’. Harry flushes and ignores the way James’ eyes are sparkling now. ‘Then Prongs came to life. I guess - all four Marauders were here last night’.

James hears once more the ghost of the laughs and he thinks how many times they had sat together around the lake, in September or in late spring, studying and joking and planning one of their pranks. Life at Hogwarts had been easier.

Except sometimes he wonders if Wormtail’s rupture began even at Hogwarts, when he felt left out or lesser than his friends, when he wasn’t as admired as James or as cherished as Sirius or as lovable as Remus. But this question is much like time paradoxes: James will get mad trying to understand it.

‘We never left’, James says at least. ‘The Marauders were made to stay at Hogwarts’.

Harry smiles softly.

‘Moony gave me the Marauder’s Map back. He says he doesn’t feel guilty now he is not my teacher any more’.

James sighs. He hasn’t seen Remus yet - he had left Hogwarts as soon as he could -, but Dumbledore had told him about his resignation after his secret had slipped out. This thought causes a wave of fury in him - it took Snape almost twenty years, but he finally managed to tell Remus’ secret, that git.

‘Can I keep it?’, Harry asks, and James can see the greed in his eyes, how much he wants to save the Map for himself.

The responsible part of him - the one that made him Head Boy and that drove him to hide instead of fight when Harry was being hunted by Voldemort - wants to get the Map back. But the other part - the one who helped create that Map, who is always thrilled for adventures and adrenaline - tells him it wouldn’t be fair. He’d want Harry to know Hogwarts’ secrets.

And Harry would get himself into trouble anyway.

‘It’s your legacy’, he says, making Harry beam. Lily will shake her head at the idea of Harry getting involved in even more confusion, but James will cover that for him.

At least this one. There are other aspects he can’t ignore.

‘Do you believe in prophecies?’, Harry asks suddenly, turning to him with a serious face, and James forces himself not to grimace.

‘Some people do’, he says vaguely, thinking back of that night Dumbledore had summoned him and Lily, as well as Frank and Alice, to tell them grave news. ‘I like to think we make our own destiny’.

Harry looks at him with a resolute expression, taking in James’ answer. As Lily says with half-amusement and half-exasperation, Harry always heeds his father’s words better than anyone else’s.

‘Good. Me too’. Harry sighs. ‘Dumbledore told me that someday I might be glad that I saved Wormtail’s life. That he is in debt with me, just as Snape is with you’.

James gives Harry a knowing look.

‘Let me guess, you want that debt as much as I want old Snape’s debt’.

‘I don’t want any connection with him’, agrees Harry. ‘He betrayed you. You - you could have died’.

‘I could. And even if I had, it would not change much, I hope’. He puts an arm around Harry’s shoulder, and Harry accepts his embrace. ‘Even if I were dead, I would always love and be with you’.

‘I am glad you are here’, Harry whispers, his voice breaking at the thought of his father dead, and he turns his face away from James.

James allows his son one moment of privacy, before grinning.

‘Let’s hope you still think so after this summer’, he says brightly. ‘As much as proud of you as I am, you did ignore me and went to Hogsmeade hidden, and you went after Wormtail - you are so  grounded this summer’.

Harry groans.

‘Oh, yes. We will talk about your chores - and no complaints or I will even revoke us going to the Quidditch World Cup’.

Harry throws a scandalized look at James.

‘You wouldn’t!’

‘Well, you are right, I wouldn’t. No messing with Quidditch. But if you want to go to Hogsmeade next year, then I expect a lot of work - I’m thinking of the garden and cleaning the attic  at least’.

‘You are the worst’, Harry moans, but James knows his son doesn’t really think so, and Harry knows he knows.

It works for both of them.

___________________

Harry is fourteen when Wormtail ties him to a gravestone, cuts him, takes his blood and helps to resurrect Voldemort.

That drives James very close to the edge.

Everything is stressful that summer. Harry is shut and brooding and so full of everything that for the first time in his life he actually screams madly at James and Lily, demanding to have answers even if he doesn’t even know what his questions are. Lily is worried about everything, her nerves worn thin, and the fact that they now have to live on Grimmauld Place until Harry returns to school doesn’t help her. Even Sirius, who James can always count on to be on the same page as him, is dark and sulking because he is away from work and locked inside his parent’s house most of the time.

James deals with all of them because he is good at helping other people and solving their problems. He lets Harry scream at him and he hugs him when Harry’s tired of screaming. He hears Lily’s worries and he helps her see everything will be alright. He takes Sirius off Grimmauld Place as much as he can, and if not, he tries to give him happier memories of that bloody house.

It’s his own problems that James can’t handle very well.

Lily sees through him but James doesn’t think she can understand this one. Peter was her friend, but not like he once was James, so Lily doesn’t feel particularly betrayed by the fact that it was Peter that bleed Harry and left him to die - again - despite the fact that Harry once saved his life.

That summer, finding Peter becomes an obsession for James. He can’t help but think that if he had tried to find him last year, maybe things could have been different. Every time James sees the faint scar on Harry’s arm, fury washes over him.

He searches through Sirius’ notes, talks with Kingsley and even tries to ask Snape if he knows something. Snape looks at him with disdain - nothing new there -, but for some reason, James believes when Snape tells him that whatever he’s been hiding, Wormtail is safe for now.

‘The Dark Lord despises him’, Snape explains coolly. ‘He knows your friend  is a vermin. But he was useful, so your friend is being protected’.

Snape always likes to remember James that Peter was once James’ friend, probably enjoying how this hurts James, even though James never takes his bait. He learned a long time ago that ignoring Snape annoys him much more than answering back and, in any case, he has bigger problems than worrying about a school feud that he really thinks Snape should be over by now.

‘Let me know if you learn anything useful’, it’s all James says, and he ignores how Snape seems affronted at this.

‘He could be dead if your son hadn’t been so noble’, Snape whispers softly, and he leaves before James can say anything.

It doesn’t matter. Even if James sometimes agrees with him, he wouldn’t say anything. Most of the time he still believes Harry did the right thing. He doesn’t want a murder in Sirius or Remus’ consciousness.

On his own, James thinks he could deal with.

But despite his best efforts, he never gets any closer to finding Wormtail. A rat always knows how to hide.

Still, his obsession almost cost him Lily and Harry,  and James promises to himself that one day he will find Wormtail, but never at the cost of what Peter almost took away from him once.

_________________

Harry is seventeen when he tells James that Peter is dead.

It’s in April. They know they shouldn’t, but James and Lily keep visiting Shell Cottage to assist Harry as much as they can before he leaves again, even though Harry isn’t asking for any assistance.

He looks more reserved than ever, vanishing for hours with Ron, Hermione and the goblin Griphook of all beings, and James has planned enough pranks in his life to know they are plotting something about that mysterious mission that Dumbledore left for them.

The one that Harry absolutely refused to tell his parents about.

James sees the impact of that mission on Harry. His son looks much older than his age, much graver and sorrowful than James would like. They all look like they've been through hell - they have cuts and they are thin and they look scared, but that trio refuses to speak of where they’ve been and what they’ve done.

‘Not yet’, Harry says, when James asks him. ‘When this is over, we will talk’.

James wonders when it will all be over, but he knows Harry wouldn’t answer that either. At some point, Harry grabbed the world, put it on his shoulder, and decided to walk carrying it on. He wishes that Harry would not give himself so much responsibility - or that he would share the weight at least.

On the last day of April, James is in the living room of Shell Cottage when he sees Harry, Ron and Hermione descending the stairs from another of their talks with Griphook. They all look more serious; while Hermione goes to check her things, Ron drifts off in search of his brother and Harry stops in front of James and Lily.

He looks first at his mother, and James sees they are in one of their moments of silent communication, that sharp understanding between them that James could never grasp really.

Lily sees more things in Harry's face than James ever could, and whatever she sees, it doesn't make her happy. James is about to question what this is about when Harry turns to him.

'Can we talk alone?'

Harry's face is grave, so James only nods. He raises, following Harry as he leaves the cottage, passing Dobby's grave and walking until they stand at the edge of a cliff overseeing the sea. He saw Harry in that spot before, looking all contemplative, but Harry never shared his thoughts with him.

It hurts a little to see his son so distant, as if Harry doesn't trust his father anymore, as much as it makes him satisfied that Harry is an adult now, able to make his own decisions.

He only wishes Harry got to be a kid before growing up.

Harry turns to him and now James can recognize the expression on his face. It's the same he had over the summer before he vanished at the wedding.

The face of someone who is leaving and doesn't know when - or if - will be back.

'We are leaving tomorrow', Harry announces and though James already expected to hear it, this sentence still fills him with despair and fear.

He can't ask where Harry will go and he can't ask when he is going to return. And he can't ask Harry to don't go. They had fought over this all summer (at least James had because Harry had just looked at him as if he had lived a thousand of lives and he had listened and looked sorrowful, but Harry had refused to say anything about his mission or to give up his idea of going).

His brave marvellous son is too stubborn sometimes.

So James ignores all his deep urge to grab Harry and run, choosing to respect his son, and asks:

'Will you be safe?'

'I think so', Harry answers and James loves and hates that he is being honest instead of promising something he can't control. 'We've planned this over and over'.

'Like you planned that break in the Ministry?'

Harry flushes at this, but he doesn't say anything. That adventure of his was in the newspaper, for Merlin's sake, and still, he refuses to say a word about why they did it or what they accomplished.

'Better, I hope', James says for him. 'Just tell me I won't hear about it in the newspaper again'.

Harry almost smiles at this; it's just a shadow, but it's a Marauder's smile, and it fills James' heart to the brim to know that Harry is still capable of it after everything he has been through.

Then Harry sighs and looks at the sea again.

'There is something I need to tell you before I leave'.

Just in case I don't return, Harry doesn't say but James hears it anyway.

'Pettigrew is dead'.

This is not what James expected to hear. He blinks, astonished, and hears as Harry explains mildly what happened at Malfoy Manor.

'His silver hand killed him?', James repeats in a low voice. 'The one Vol - You-Know-Who gave him?'

'Yeah. I think he always knew…'

'Of his debt?'

Harry shrugs.

'I don't think he minded that. It's the kind of thing he wouldn't believe in, like love and fairy tales or life debts'.

Harry speaks with a gloomy perspective of Voldemort's feeling that makes James shivers.

'I think he knew that some part of Wormtail regretted it. A tiny part, but it was enough'. Harry sighs heavily. 'We were struggling and I told him he owed me his life and… that you would be ashamed of him'.

James grabs Harry's arm, but Harry still looks far away.

'He didn't release me exactly, but for a moment, a fraction of a second, he hesitated. And then the hand turned against him. There was nothing we could do'.

'Of course not', James agrees absently, just following his instinct of comforting Harry. Then he registers what Harry said. 'You tried to save him'.

Harry doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to. James knows his son and, God bless him, his heart is always in the right place.

‘Why did you never talk to me about Wormtail?’, Harry asks, and James thinks that’s a question that has been bothering his son for many years now. ‘You told me once about Pettigrew, and you told me about Wormtail, but we never really talk about what he did’.

In the end, it did not matter because Harry had discovered in any case, but James feels suddenly ashamed.

‘I was embarrassed’, he says in a low voice. ‘Too ashamed to confess that everything that happened with us - your scar, the prophecy coming true - was because I put my faith in the wrong person, that I was too blind to believe my friend -’

‘It was not your fault, dad. You know, Remus once told me I was like you, too quick to consider dishonour to believe that a friend would betray me, and… he was right, but I’m proud of being like that. It’s better than living with fear. And if people don’t correspond to what we believe of them - that’s their loss. Not ours’.

Harry is looking at him with so much serenity that for an instant James feels more like the son than the father. In fact, now he sees, he realizes they are the same size now; there are differences of age and, of course, in the eyes, but they could be twins if seen from afar.

He wonders when Harry grew up so much and how much he really influenced his son. He hopes it was a lot, because he is really happy and proud of the man Harry is becoming.

James approaches him quietly, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder and for a moment they both stay looking at the ocean, watching the waves crash below them.

'Are you glad?', Harry asks in a whisper. 'That Peter died?'

James thinks of when catching Peter was a desperate need as if that somehow would solve all the problems that Peter had caused.

He remembers that fury he felt when Sirius told him Peter was still alive.

He remembers that trembling first-year boy in their dormitory, who wanted to be their friend, who looked up to James.

And he feels a longing for a time that was good, but he can't go back and he can't change what happened. Peter made his own choices, just as everyone else did.

And he had made the last choice of feeling guilty for a split-second and had died because of it.

But the fact is that Harry is here, alive. That's all he ever asked of Peter.

'I’m not glad', James whispers at least. 'But I’m also not sad. My friend was gone a long time ago'.

Harry gives him a long look and James thinks he doesn't agree totally with him, but Harry doesn't say anything. Lily would probably know what he means, and James never learned how to read Harry that well, but he doesn't mind.

Someday Harry will explain to him what he is thinking. Harry always tells him in the end.

'Be careful tomorrow', he says. 'And after that. Send us some news if you can - just to let us know…'

Let us know you're alive, James thinks, but he doesn't finish. Harry seems to understand, however. He nods and takes a deep breath, before turning to James with a hopeful smile.

‘Let’s go back for dinner?’

James almost says no. He thinks he can’t endure the feeling of sharing a meal with Harry and Lily and wondering if this will be the last meal they share; but the last time Harry went away, the feeling of not even remembering what was the last thing he’d said to Harry had been worse.

He wants a - not last, not ever the last one - dinner with Harry, and to hug him - not goodbye, but a good night - and to remember Harry that no matter what, they will see each other again. And, as Harry’s Patronus won’t let them forget, James is always with his son.

So James puts a brave smile on his face, messes with Harry’s hair in that way that makes Harry look pleasantly annoyed, and they return together to Shell Cottage.