#the real reason peter betrayed him

[solarisburns]

James going on and on for over an hour about how Regulus was definitely flirting with him today. like it was so obvious, i swear he was blushing, heart shaped eyes- the whole nine yards, right guys?

the rest of the marauders just sitting there, remus is reading, sirius is sleeping, and pete is the only one still listening (hes a good bro like that) but they kind just go, uh... james, mate? he told you to fuck off? he barely looked you in the eye? How hard did lily hit you with that textbook?

[casually-eat-my-soul]

I just recently rewatched the Witcher and WOLF WITCHER DEREK HALE and jaskier coded Stiles. I absolutely love the witcher and teen wolf and their ideas kinda overlap.

Geralt and Derek have to same character dynamic —Grumpy, I could kill you on sight, only soft for one person, enough gulit in their shoulders to kill atlas. But in the end a good person who wants to be good, (Derek wanting to be a good alpha, Geralt wanting to be a knight)

Stiles and jaskier have the same coded character, uses a mask to hide the real him in public, cunning and smart, sarcastic little shits, someone who has an infinite patience for a grumpy man.

I’m going to go a little off script because although derek and stiles fit the mold of the character archetypes they would have different backgrounds/motives

So for Derek I’m picturing:

maybe he was from a rich family that were killed by the Argents (Kate 🤢) and he goes to Kaer Morhen (the wolf school) and goes through the trails. Boys his age don’t really survive the trails so the fact that he did made him the strongest to survive so they put him through the trails again making him the “alpha”. The hale pack Erica, Boyd, and Issac were also from the wolf school. He later gets called “the butcher” after he finds Kate later on and kills he and a few knights.

Or

He was dropped off at the wolf school as a child and Talia takes him under her wing as he goes through the mutagen’s that turn him into a Witcher. Kate is one of the witches that are working on the boys, she manipulated him and uses him to sack Kaer Morhen leading to the death of most of the hale pack. Peter goes feral and he is forced to put him down leading to the nickname butcher.

For Stiles there are many different option one could go with because although he shares many traits with jaskier I cannot see him as a bard. Maybe he’s also a Witcher from the cat school who ends up traveling with Derek after it gets a little to dangerous to as a lone Witcher.

Maybe he’s a traveling healer/herbalist/apothecary who keeps running into Derek and healing him. He graduated from Oxford, and helped smuggle out elves into safer locations(spy stiles). Maybe Derek trusts him to save him because stiles smuggled him out of an argent jail cell, a move that could have cost Stiles his life. So as a thank you Derek swears to help protect him in times of need (overprotective bodyguard Derek, my beloved). Stiles allowing Derek to play out his knight fantasy by protecting him.

“Looking after you is my duty”

“Is that the only reason you do it?” (Taken from Epic the movie)

Or maybe Stiles is a spark, he studied at one of the main mage school like Aretuza, and joined the brotherhood. While there he finds a conspiracy to create new Witcher loyal to the crown and the mage schools. One of the trails, Scott. So he grabs Scott and betrays the brotherhood, leading him to seek out Derek to help. Together with the hale pack the take down the corrupt leader and the argents.

There are so many options but the potential is so amazing!! Derek who hates everyone but stiles. The soft intimacy of their interactions. Stiles healing Derek in soft candlelight, light touches on his skin as not to overwhelm him. Derek being surround by stiles scent, a safe place to rest.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7 K Warnings: none. Prompt: Why is it that potions is always so problematic? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Not proofread

Chapter 66: Hot Love

“Well, I certainly know who my partner will be thinking of,” Sirius said maliciously towards Severus, once he overheard the conversation you were having with Slughorn. 

“Yeah, well, I know exactly who you’ll be thinking of as well,” the other boy retorted viciously. “And it won’t be your stupid little girlfriend, will it?” 

Sirius seemed taken aback by his comment. Then he remembered what Severus had seen in the bathroom. “Watch your fucking mouth.” 

Severus tilted his head. “Mine? I’m not the one placing it on other lips. On men’s lips.” 

“Severus,” Sirius warned as he turned to him. The greasy-haired boy was speaking louder than normal on purpose. Thankfully, behind the two was only James and Lily, no longer Peter and his partner since they had reassigned seats.

“What?” Severus tilted his head. “You scared your little girlfriend might hear?” he added with a snide smirk. “What would you do if I told her?” 

“How about you mind your own fucking business?” 

“Touched a nerve?” he asked as he titled his head. “Hope I did. Because if you don’t do exactly what I fucking tell you to do for the rest of potions, then I will make fucking sure she figures out, and it won’t be in a kind way.” 

“What you think you saw–”

“Don’t even fucking bother to make excuses,” he added. “Is that the real reason they kicked you out of the family? Was Potter perhaps your first lover?” 

Sirius' eyes were icy as he stared at Severus, his teeth clashing against each other so tight that they almost hurt. The idea that he might have been cast out for liking men was both disheartening and enraging. Not because he hated that he had been cast out but because he knew it would have been a perfect excuse for his parents. Their heir being a fag? Could not possibly live with that!

In a way, he loved that he’d found yet another way to infuriate his mother, but there was still that strong pang in his heart that made him hate himself for having allowed Severus, of all people, to see how he was vulnerable. 

Not that he cared about being outed or about Severs telling you anything, you already knew. But he knew Moony didn’t want the world to know, and he knew you weren’t in love with the idea either. His weakness didn’t lay on him, let alone his own feelings, but in yours and Remus’, and it made it all the more discouraging, especially when he had betrayed your feelings more than once in the past.

“Count the rose petals shreds, would you? We need one hundred and seventy-three,” Severus commanded. 

Sirius breathed out, closed his eyes and bit the bullet. He pulled them out of the jar and laid them on the table before he started counting. We have to do something about him, he thought as he let out a quiet sigh. Severus was clearly enjoying Sirius’ submissiveness, already imagining all the things he’d force Sirius to do with his newfound influence. Although, even then, he wouldn’t drag it on too much. 

He hated Sirius, but there was something more he wanted. He wanted you to feel as bad as he had felt when he saw Lily and James together. He thought it was your fault they started dating, and you became the cause of this and all of his misfortunes. You, Sirius, James and perhaps the stupid werewolf as well. He’d disliked their little group for years, but he never expected Evans to actually fall for James, and it happened just as you joined the school. In his mind, there was no way around it, it was your fault he suffered a heartache, and he would make you miserable in retaliation. 

And while Sirius, feeling miserable, counted the petals, you and Remus were happily measuring your ingredients. “Rosebud petals?” you asked as you revised the small list you’d jotted down in your notebook. 

According to Slughorn, book versions of amorentia often left one or two ingredients out since they did not want students to fully recreate such a powerful potion. But he thought that you should be taught the real potion if any of you actually aspired to become a potioneer. He had a special, annotated book, and he had dictated the ingredients from his own ‘Tried and True’ version. 

“Ready,” Remus answered as he checked the ingredients on the pile you had made on the side. 

“300 grams of Ashwinder Eggs?” You asked and he nodded. “Moon pearl dust?”

“That was two teaspoons, right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded and ticked the little box next to the ingredient. “Honey Water infused with a drop of mint extract?” 

“It’s here,” he said as he lifted a small beaker with the right amount of it. Honey water was of a very light, slightly luminescent amber tone, made of 4 parts magically distilled water and 1 part honeyblitz luminhoney. You had been taught how to extract luminhoney once in your older school, and while you’d managed to get out of it unscratched, others weren’t quite so lucky. Honeyblitz Bees were rather feisty, and they didn’t like people digging around their honeycomb. Thankfully, Hogwarts had a rather large stash of luminhoney, so you didn’t have to worry too much about harvesting. 

The beaker Remus held in his hand, however, was of a light purplish tone, changed by the drop of mint flower extract. 

You nodded and looked back at your list “Niffler’s Fancy?“

“5 dried leaves crushed in a mortar,” he responded.

“But we added half a leave to make up for what sticks on the sides, yeah?” 

Remus smiled as he heard you and nodded, that had been something he had taught you near the start of the year. It was better to add a little bit more of those ingredients that had to be crushed to dust and squeezed. “And about half a knut of root for potency,” he reassured. 

“Not on the list, I think it’s a brilliant idea,” you responded as you added it to your notes. Potions were no place for heedless improvisation, most required exact ingredients since it was the only way to guarantee that the potion would come out all right; a little bit of the wrong ingredient and you could poison the drinker. But a potioneer with knowledge of the ingredients and their properties –a good potioneer– could add or subtract small bits of certain ingredients to alter their potion’s results. 

When you and Remus got “Outstanding” on your veritaserum, you had actually decided to add an extra Jobberknoll Feather since the ones you got had been rather small. Jobberknol feathers helped both with the potion’s potency and with the durability of its effect. Your potion, according to Slugnorn, had been the longest-lasting, which accounted for an excellent success. You had thought Severus’ face had been hilarious when Slughorn said that and praised your team in front of the entire class.

“7 puffapods?” you asked after you finished scribbling.

“Yeah, we took an extra bean, in case they’re not ripe yet.” 

“We’re not missing anything besides that, are we?” 

“The moonstone extract,” he said as he checked his notes. “Did you write that one down?” 

“Oh no, I was gonna add it in the end but completely forgot,” you said as you did. “How much of that was it?” 

“Few drops,” he said with a frown. “Until the potion reaches a Pygmy Puff pink.” 

“That’s too broad,” you said with a shrug. 

“I thought so, too,” he responded. “I asked Slughorn if there was anything on Flamel’s Potion Hue Scale, and he said to go for FPHS-P63”.

You leaned down and pulled a small booklet, about the size of a chocolate bar, from your bag. At the top, it said FPHS in big letters, and on the inside, it was filled with different colours and their names, almost like a paint sampler. The one you had, had cost a small fortune, but your mother, who had been quite good at potions herself, insisted on getting the complete version instead of the Student one. Remus and you had used it plenty of times, and it had never failed you. Even back when you made polyjuice, getting the right shade of brown (apparently FPHS-B12) had been thanks to the hue scale. 

You placed the booklet on the table next to the ingredients. “That’s it, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded with a smile.

“At least it won’t take us days to brew this one,” you said as you pulled the cauldron out and placed it over the burner –still off, you didn’t need to heat this potion yet. 

“We have the thermometer?” 

“They’re all taken, I was thinking of borrowing one when we need it,” he said and then checked your notes. “Did you pick up some Scourgify Essence by any chance?” 

“Oh yeah, it said the cauldron had to be extremely clean…” you said as you picked the small flask out of your pocket and handed it over to him. 

He carefully picked out a pipet full of it and dropped the liquid onto the cauldron. He then swivelled the liquid inside of it and placed it back on the stand before he took his wand out and whispered, “Scourgify.” The liquid made a light sizzling sound, as if burning, and created a small stream of yellow smoke with a smell oddly reminiscent of marigolds. 

“From the calming drought?” 

He sniffed, “Definitely,” he agreed. “One more time?” 

“To make sure,” you nodded as you added another pipet of the concentrate to the cauldron, this time, you performed the spell. The fizzing sound was a little louder, and the smoke was first green and then white. 

“Green was from polyjuice,” he said as he scrunched his nose to the side, the smallest expression of disgust.

“Imagine how it tasted,” you said. Although you hadn’t smelled anything at all, you’d seen the colour, and you knew Remus had a far better sense of smell. 

“And you did it for the sake of James’ date.” 

“Well, they’re a thing now, aren’t they?” you said with a smile and a small tilt of your head. “When we’re all old, I’ll be able to remind James of the time I sacrificed my sanity and cleaned the men’s loos for the sake of his relationship.”  

“Oh, and you’ll probably remind Lily and their children about it all the time. I can already imagine a senile version of you saying something along the lines of ‘You know, you owe your existence to my sacrifice’”

“I won’t be senile! Old yes, but…”

“We’re all gonna be senile one day,” he said with a smile. “I don’t mind it, though. I won’t mind going insane if it’s beside you.” 

He’d said it so casually, as he poured some of the honey water into the cauldron, that he didn’t even notice how you had almost choked on your own spit at his words. And there he was, gently stirring the liquid inside the caldron as you stared at him. He’s right. Perhaps being senile won’t be as bad if I’m with the two of them. 

“Little Witch?” he asked, for the third time, now he was looking at you. “What were you thinking about?” 

“Bubbles,” you said before he had time to tease you about it, and then grabbed the rose petals and dropped them onto the mortar. 

“Bubbles?” 

“Slughorn said we need to stir lightly, to avoid bubbles,” you repeated, almost mechanically, as you furiously crushed the rose petals in the mortar, your hand was fast and hard onto the surface, a red paste. 

“Intention,” he said with a teasing smile. “Don’t forget your intention.” 

You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes. He had a know-it-all smile that would have been infuriating had he not looked so handsome. “Worry not, I’m definitely thinking of it,” you said as you crushed the petals a little harder. It was now a rather thick paste. You tried not to think much about growing old with the boys as you looked at the mortar. “Does it say anything about straining?” you asked. 

“Book says it’s recommended, Slughorn didn’t say anything,” he said as he turned to his notes, comparing them with the book’s recipe. 

“It’s kind of lumpy,” you said as you put a little bit more force on the mortar.

“Let me try,” he said as he carefully enveloped your hands with his and replaced their spot on the mortar. One arm tangled with yours as he gently pressed the pestle into the mortar. The paste was made only a little lighter, but it was still quite thick, even after being subjected to his werewolf strength. “Perhaps we should strain it. I’ve never seen a lumpy amortentia…” 

“Me neither,” you said as you grabbed a small ladle and poured two spoonfuls of the potion onto the mortar, he mixed the paste, now much more watery. “Another one?” 

“No, I think that’s enough,“ he retorted as he continued grinding. You were both unnecessarily close to one another. Even more, than you normally were, but it seemed natural for your arms to be entangled with one another, for the side of his chest to be so close that you could tell when he was exhaling and inhaling, as if it was meant to be. As if it had always been meant to be, only you hadn’t quite realised it. 

You grabbed a small straining cloth and placed it on top of the cauldron, stretching it just enough for him to pour the petal paste –now more like petal water- onto it. Most of it went through pretty smoothly, near the end, though he used the same ladle to push the paste towards the straining cloth, squeezing out as much of the liquid still in them as possible. 

When he was done, you pulled the cloth, bunched it up, and pressed your hands on the small lump at the bottom to squeeze out any remaining liquid. 

“Should be enough, right?” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, revising the colour of the potion and comparing it to his notes. “Does it look peachy to you?” 

“Book says it should be FPHS-RY2, right?” you said as you took the Hue Scale booklet and looked for the colour. He hummed in response and leaned even closer to you, looking over your shoulder as you placed the small shit of paper next to the cauldron. 

“We need better light,” he said as he pulled out his wand with an unspoken lumos charm. “It’s a little transparent, but I think it’s the right shade.” 

You looked up at him; he was attentively looking at the chart, his brows slightly knotted from the attentive way he was looking at the colours. You smiled and bit your lip as you looked at him. Perhaps if you weren’t in such a public place, you would have stolen a kiss from him. 

“We need to add the puffapods next,” he said as he picked up the purplish leaves that contained them. “We need to use a dissolving spell once they’re inside.” 

You nodded, taking the leaves in your hand and using a knife to open it. Puffapods were these gooey, light purple balls that smelled rather disagreeably –at least to you– and apparently to Remus as well if the way he pulled back from your side was anything to go by. In potions, it was almost always you who took on the tasks of preparing the stronger-smelling ingredients. It’d started after you figured out he was a werewolf, and he didn’t notice you’d been doing it until after he knew about your discovery. He had been so thankful, he made sure to always carry chocolate around with him during potions to give you some after class. 

You used the knife to place the puffapods onto the cauldron and wiped your hands with a rag since some of the mucus had spread out onto your hands. “I think I’ll wash my hands instead,” you said as the smell didn’t subside. 

“I’ll work on the dissolving spell while you’re at it,” he said with a simple nod and you walked towards the end of the classroom where the faucets were. By the time you walked back, Remus was already working on cracking the ahwinder eggs. The liquid inside them was a pinkish and gooey slime, with no smell to it, but when they crashed onto the rest of the potion, the smell of puffapods was swallowed completely, leaving an oddly pleasant smell of something earthy, almost like wet grass or mint.

Remus seemed to notice the change as well. “Mint?” he asked. 

“And something leathery, I think…” you said. He nodded in agreement. The smell of your potion had been so strong that apparently even Tom, on the table behind you also noticed it.

“Does anybody else smell something like sandalwood and lavender cologne?” 

“No,” said Beth as she shrugged. “It does kind of smell kind of citrusy thought.” 

“Concentrate on your brews,” Slughorn said to no one in particular, although he had a faint smile on his face as if he too had smelled something pleasant. 

“Did we bring the distiller?”

“Yeah,” he said as he pulled the crystal vases and started accommodating them all, lighting the burner with a small incendio, as you busied yourself with cutting up the niffler’s fancy leaves. It was quite common for you and Remus to work like that. Almost as if you could read each other’s minds. With a set of instructions, the two of you could go step by step almost without saying a word, just knowing exactly what the other would do with the ingredients they took in their hands. 

By the time he was done accommodating, you’d already chopped all the leaves and placed them in a beaker with exactly 9 oz of Potioneer Water for distilling magical ingredients and a knut of root. He tilted the end of the flask, and you poured it onto the blown glass opening. The mixture started bubbling, and the smaller flask on the other side of the pipets started slowly being filled with drops of lightly blue-tinted water. 

Remus checked his watch. “I think we can start boiling the potion,” he said as he handed over the burner, and you accommodated it under the cauldron. “Low, green fire,” he said. 

“Right,” you said as you filled the small of the glass bottle with dragon’s breath alcohol and sprinkled it with verdant ember dust.

“You’ll need this one too,” Remus said as he handed over an emerald wick, while it wasn’t strictly necessary to use one  –they were more expensive than normal wicks– they did help with purer fire, and Slughorn allowed students to use them in some of the more complicated potions. 

“Brilliant,” you said as you accommodated the three wicks and tightened the top of the burner. You placed it underneath the cauldron and turned the fire on with your wand, rolling the small knob at the top to lower the intensity of the fire. The diopside flames crashed against the cast iron of the cauldron. “Temperature should stay under 65 °C,” you said as you checked your notes. 

Rem turned around, looking towards Beth and Tom. They seemed to be doing fine, although their potion was a little lumpy, they could always strain it in the end. “Do you guys have a thermometer?”  

“Yeah,” Tom said as he handed it over. They were still trying to peel the puffapods, one of them had blown up on Beth’s hand, and they were both busy trying to clean off the slime off their table. “Scourgify,” Remus said. The mucus disappeared from their table and from Beth’s robes. 

“Thanks,” she said with a smile as she looked up at him. Then she turned to look at Tom and handed him the pod leaf. “You try now.” 

“No problem,” Rem said and turned back towards your potion, carefully securing the thermometer onto the side of the cauldron, and allowing only the very tip to touch the potion. You had already pulled out a special crystal spoon that was meant for mixing delicate potions. “It’s three clockwise and six counters every 5 minutes, right?” 

“Yup,” you said as you pulled out the spoon, allowed it to drip and, with a gentle wave of your hand, caused the hourglass at the end of the table to turn around.

While the time passed, both you and Remus compared your notes, scribbled so fast after Slughorn dictation that some words were almost intelligible, but in between the two of you, you’d managed to get a very complete recipe, annotating all the changes, and moving the recipe to the compendium you had both created for the class. 

At the beginning of the year, Slughorn had suggested you start your own potion book. With whatever alterations you made, or got recommended by him, and a detailed memoir of your experience making each potion. You had both decided to add the memoir as a separately attached parchment and use the notebook as your personal recipe book. The sections on polyjuice, Veritaserum and Draught of Living Dеath were the longest and most detailed, since you had made a few modifications to them, and they were also the ones both you and Remus thought could be useful later. The plan was to use Gemino by the time it was ready so you both could keep your own copy. 

“We strained before adding the rose petals, instead of in the end, yeah?” 

He hummed in return and pointed at the straining cloth you’d used. “I think you used acromantula silk for that.” 

“Yeah, the finest available,” you said as you added that as a footnote. 

Then, there was a soft chime from the end of the table. “I’ll do the mixing,” Remus said softly as you looked towards the cauldron. “Focus on getting that thought down,” he added as he walked behind you and placed a hand on the back of your neck. He picked the spoon from the plate you’d left it on and dipped it into the potion, gently making the necessary turns and eyeing you as you wrote down some details of the peeling and adding of the puffapods. He smiled as he saw you gently biting your lower lip in concentration. He thought you looked absolutely adorable.

“I think I’m gonna add an extra clockwise stir.” 

“Okay,” you said as you scribbled that on the side of your parchment. Remus was brilliant at calculating the mixing process, so you never questioned his judgement regarding extra stirs. 

When he was done, you waved your hand again, restarting the clock and then focusing on the small drawing of the puffapods you’d decided to add to the side of the ingredients list. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you look when you’re writing things down,” he said with a smile as he leaned a little closer to you. Taking a pencil from the end of the table as an excuse for leaning against you.

You could feel your cheeks heating up from how close he was and how terribly delightful he smelled. Or perhaps it was the entire classroom that smelled nice? No, that’s not it, you thought. There was still some of that Puffapod smell coming from somewhere near the back. Even then, his smell, or the smell around you at least, seemed to overpower your senses. The temptation to turn around and kiss him was almost too strong to resist. But you somehow managed to force your eyes back onto the paper. 

“Don’t be such a tease,” you murmured.

“It’s not teasing,” he insisted, drawing just a little closer. “It’s true.” 

You had to bite your cheeks not to let out a strangled sound. His presence was overwhelming to you at that moment. And you didn’t want to fight it, you wanted only to give in. 

“Keep in mind the sole smell of amorentia can cause havoc,” Slughorn said. “Be careful as you smell it, and remember that perhaps your thoughts are being affected by the brewing. Especially during the infusion period.” 

Remus turned to Slughorn and upon realising just how close he’d gotten to you, practically pressing his chest onto your back. He pulled back almost in an instant, taking a pencil with him and clearing his throat. “That’s the thing you needed?” he asked as he left an eraser on your notebook.

You knew he was only covering for his overly affectionate moment seconds ago, but you nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “Thanks, Luv.” 

He threw you a reproachful look since you rarely used that nickname with him. You simply smiled and sent a short wink his way. Then you turned towards the destination area you’d set up earlier. “I think it’s done,” you said. There was 3 oz of blueish liquid on the small crystal tube. “It’s probably very concentrated.” 

“Yeah,” Remus said as he turned off the fire on that burner and used his want to float the tube towards his face. The smell emanating from it was earthy and fresh, exactly like distilled niffler’s fancy should smell like. 

When the hourglass chimed again, he poured the liquid onto the potion and turned the fire off. The potion was now of a light lilac colour, thick slow bubbles seemed to start at the very top and face towards the bottom of the cauldron, the smell much more powerful now. There was a small hint of chocolate on it now too. At least for you, for Remus, it smelled a little like the perfume you’d worn to the slugparty. 

“Is that meant to happen?” you asked.

“Yeah, it’s actually a good sign,” he said as he took the crystal spoon and started stirring. “It’s four and then the pearl dust,” he said.

“Ready,” you said as you took the small recipient with the premeasured shimmery dust.

He turned his hands counterclockwise four times, and you started throwing the dust on the cauldron, gently tapping on the sides of the crystal recipient to make sure all of it fell where it was meant to. After three more stirs, the smell had become even more potent than before. Some students from the back of the class were even peeking through their own cauldrons, trying to figure out where the nice scents were coming from. 

“And now it’s the last ingredient,” he said as he pulled out the small dropper with the moonstone extract. Meanwhile, you took the FPHS and looked for the P63. You lit your wand up next to the potion, which was a silvery lilac colour and had a shimmering-like effect –caused by the pearl dust. 

He poured one drop, and the colour changed, becoming a little more warm. Rem added three more drops, and it already looked pink, just a very pale, almost rose-petal pink, not quite P63. He added two more drops, and the colour was already much closer to a match. Not to mention the smell of the potion had become even stronger, almost intoxicating from how much it drew you in, and towards each other. Even Sirius, who had been impossibly annoyed by Severus throughout his entire class, had turned around and started staring at the two of you working on the last steps of your potion. The smell drawing you and Remus in, seeming to work just the same on him.

 “One or two more?” Remus asked. 

You frowned and bit your lip, looking at the colour it was and thinking of the one you wanted to achieve. All the while also thinking of both Remus and Sirius and how potent the smell of them on the potion was by now. “Two,” you said confidently.

He poured two more drops and the potion finally matched P63, the smell became so strong for a moment that it flooded the entire classroom, everyone seemed to turn to look towards your table and you heard Severus curse under his breath. You wonder if his potion smelled like the Rosehoney of Lily’s perfume, or if perhaps it was the tropical smell of her muggle coconut shampoo she loved so much that he was perceiving.  

Slughorn walked towards your table, the smell was still strong, but he had used a spell to dissipate some of the smell outside of the classroom through the ventilator tubes on the sides of the walls. 

“It seems we have the first finished potion,” he said as he approached. “And the scent is quite strong, too. Perhaps some of the strongest amorentia I’ve smelled.”

“Thank you, Professor,” both you and Remus said at the same time. 

“Nothing to thank for,” he retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now, tell me, what do you smell?” 

You cleared your throat. “There’s a minty leathery smell, perhaps with some undertones of pine trees and fresh morning air,” you said. 

“And the next scent?” 

“Books,” you said, “and um… something sweet,” you didn’t want to say it was chocolate in case someone was listening in to the conversation. 

“The last one?” 

“It’s the smell of a forest at night,” you said. “Damp earth and moss, wild herbs, evergreen and dew. I also detect a bit of–” you stopped yourself. “Never mind, I don’t know what it is.” 

Slughorn looked at you with a bit of a suspicious air, but Remus was the one who had to bite his lips in order to stop a smile from spreading. He had a faint idea of what you might be smelling since he too had gotten that. 

“And you, Mr. Lupin?” 

“Books too,” he said. “A perfume, don’t know what it’s made of, and something musky and earthy.” 

Slughorn nodded thoughtfully as if he was considering the smells. “And?” 

“Ugh, I’m not sure what that is,” he lied. It was the same leathery scent you had smelled, except for him it smelled more of Sirius’ fancy citric soap –even after he got kicked out of his house, he still bought the same elegant soap, and whenever he left the bathroom the entire place was imprinted with that smell. That smell had not only imprinted itself on the bathroom but also on Remus’ mind. The things he had imagined weren’t something he had been proud of after he’d emptied himself out in the shower. “Perhaps some kind of soap,” he added in the end. 

“And the last smell?” 

“Can’t tell,” he lied again. It was the smell of his coat that night at the Potters. You and Sirius. As unmistakable as the sun, and as obvious as the Moon or the brightest star in the night’s sky.  

“Perhaps if you lean a little closer?” Slughorn said as he tilted his head. 

“I mean, I definitely smell something,” Remus corrected. “I just don’t know what the scent is.”

“Well, that’s rather interesting,” he said with a smile. You sensed he was about to ask something else. And you knew the tight spot Rem was in, so you decided to intervene. 

“What do you smell, Professor?” 

“What do I–” he asked, almost puzzled. “Well, I…” 

Got him, you thought as you saw his nervousness. “I mean not to pride, Professor. I just wanted to know if our potion was successful.” 

“Oh yes, excellently so,” he nodded as he composed himself. ”I smell flowers, evening flowers to be precise. A gardenia, evening primrose and  Abyssinian gladiolus,” he explained. “I think there’s some serpent musk and I believe that’s the very particular smell of giant squid ink and old books.” 

“Do you also feel a third smell?” you asked. The more he lost himself in his own thoughts, the further he’d be from asking Remus something else. Rem threw an almost nervous look your way and reached for your hand from under the table, you squeezed his reassuringly, not taking your gaze away from Slughorn. 

Slughorn hesitated, only now realising how intrusive he might have seemed as he asked you and Remus to describe the scents you perceived in the potion. “Yes,” he said. The smell was quite strong and clear for him. “Cold and crisp air. The kind of scent you get from standing on a cliff.” And there was also something of that coppery scent that dark magic carried mixed into it, but as you and Remus had done earlier, he decided not to elaborate further on the thing he smelled.

“Oh,” you said as you leaned towards the potion again. “Should we bottle this then?” 

“Please,” he said with a smile. “There are some clean bottles on my table. You may pick whichever you like,” he added before he walked towards a different table. 

“What was the thing you didn’t mention?” Remus asked as he leaned a little closer to you.

“Canine scent,” you said with a smile. “Moony and Pads. You?” 

“Your perfume,” he admitted. “And…” There was a hesitation there, an almost imperceptible gulp before he was brave enough to speak it aloud.  “My coat.” 

“Your coat?” you asked confused, and then it dawned on you. “By Merlin. Your coat!” 

“And Sirius’ soap.” 

“The one that smells kind of like tangerine and sandalwood?” He nodded. You hummed shortly in response. “I’ll get a bottle,” you said as you walked towards Slughorn’s desk. 

The assortment of bottles there was huge. From small bottles that could only be used to hold extremely powerful –or explosive-prone– potions, to the larger flask that would normally be used for potions with a longer shelf life or that were used quite frequently (like Pomfrey’s Skellegro). You sorted through the bottles and grabbed a medium-sized one.  About the size of a flattened apple, and with quite a similar shape as well. It was quite heart-shaped, but it was quilted,  hobnailed, or something in between, and it had the slightest pinkish hue that you thought could perhaps enhance the shimmering P63 of your potion.

It’s not that you cared so much about the presentation, but you knew Slughorn did, he had an eye for beautiful things. The way he stored his own potions was indicative enough, besides, every time he was giving a beautiful-looking potion, whoever had given it got either praise for it or a better grade. So once you’d chosen what you thought would be the right bottle, you moved over to find a cork that would fit. 

While you were walking back to your table you heard an explosion coming from a cauldron near the back. “Mr. Prewet, how on earth did you manage to blow something up in a potion with no explosive ingredients?” 

“I think I confused purple explosivepods with puffapods,” he said as he looked at the small gooey –much brighter– leaf in his hand… Sorry.” 

Slughorn sighted and quickly vanished all the ingredients from his table with a simple “evaneso.” Then he looked at the boy rather sternly. “You and your partner will write an essay on everything that went wrong in your potion to pass the assignment.” 

 “Can’t I do that too?” someone asked. It was Janice, one of Beth’s roommates. 

“No, Miss Stevenson. You must finish your potion.” 

“But it’s blue!” She complained as she stared at her cauldron. “It’s meant to be pink!” 

“Did you distil the niffler’s fancy leaves?” You asked.

“Distil?” she asked as she stared back at her book. “It’s not on the instructions.” 

“No,” Slughorn said. “But I mentioned it was much better to distil it, since sometimes niffler’s fancy leaves are inconsistent in concentrations.” 

“You did?” she asked with a frown to which Slughotn nodded. 

You gave her an apologetic smile and a shrug. “You could try adding a little bit more honeywater to even things out, but you’ll have to improvise with the stirring…” 

Remus, who was writing some stuff down on his parchment, turned to look at her as well. “I think you’d need 4 extra turns to the right and one to the left for it to work.” 

“It’s five to the right,” Severus said with an eye roll. “Or 6, depending on how much honey water they add.” 

Remus looked back at his notes with a small frown, scribbling something before scoffing. “Snape is right, 6 to be certain.” 

“Oh, thank you,” she said with a smile, looking both at you and Remus and then a much shyer, almost scared look towards Severus. “And you,” she added much more quietly. 

“I was just correcting Lupin, I don’t care about your potion,” he retorted and went back to his cauldron. 

She just swallowed and walked towards the ingredient cabinet to get the stuff she would need to, hopefully, fix her mess. 

You walked back towards Rem with the flask, he’d already picked out the crystal funnel, and you accommodated onto the opening of the flask while he used the ladle to slowly fill up the bottle. Once the bottle was filled, there was still about half as much potion left inside the cauldron. 

Normally whatever was left over (unbottled) became “Caput Mortuum” as Slughorn liked to call it, and he threw it down the drain. But before you had time to pick up the cauldron, Slughorn was back at your table. “Finished?” 

“Almost,” you said as you removed the funnel and passed the cork to Remus who had already picked out the label you’d be adding. 

“Excellent,” he said and moved his wand on top of your cauldron. “Potio Evanesco,” he said. The potion spiralled down until it completely disappeared. “Last time a strong potion like this one was poured down the drain, the school had quite a wild week,” he explained. “You may leave after your clean-up,” he said after revising his watch.”��

“Thank you,” Remus replied. Since the cauldron was already clean, you limited yourselves to just taking the leftover ingredient flasks and placing them back in their respective cabinets. 

As you were walking back to your place to pick your bag up, you decided to pay a small visit to Sirius, who looked absolutely miserable as he was writing some things down. 

“How’s the potion?” you asked him.

“Not sure,” he admitted. “I’ve only weighed the ingredients three times each.” 

You frowned and turned to look at Severus who looked uncomfortable by how close you were standing to Sirius. “Do you really think three times is absolutely necessary?” 

“Worry about your own brews,” he retorted without looking at you. Not that he was doing anything important. Just looking at his hourglass.

“Has he been like that all class?” Sirius nodded. “I’m sorry for you,” you told Severus. 

“I’m the one that’s sorry for you,” retorted Severus as he finally turned to you. 

“Beg your pardon?” 

He stared daggers at you for a second and opened his mouth as if he were about to say something and then stopped himself. If he was going to make you suffer, he was going to drag it on and end with a bang. Not here where Sirius could just tell you Severus had made it all up, and since you were so enamoured by him, you’d probably gobble all his lies. “Nothing,” he said haughtily. “You’re distracting my partner, please leave.” 

“But he wasn’t doing anything.” 

“He’s writing the log.” 

“And what is he going to write now? Severus looks at the hourglass while we wait for another 5 minutes? Severus looks at the hourglass while we wait another 4 minutes? Don’t be ridiculous!” 

“You are exhausting my patience, girl.” 

“And you’re exhausting mine,” you retorted. “If you treat people like shit all the time, then it makes sense nobody likes you. Heck even the portraits–” 

“The portraits? How do you even–” There was a second of silence before he looked back at you, with even more hatred than before. “It was you!” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you retorted calmly. “I’m just saying I heard the portraits talk shit behind your back.” And after that, you added. “Severus Snail.” 

Severus stood up from his seat. “You don’t want to continue messing with me.” 

“You’re the one behaving like a child,” you retorted just as aggressively. 

“At least I didn’t get my friend and my mother kiIIed.” You were instantly taken aback by his words. Frozen in place as they sank in. When he knew he’d gotten his hand on a fresh wound, he decided to press even harder. “And that’s not even the only thing that’s breaking apart in your perfect little life, is it? What will you do when–” 

“That’s enough,” Sirius said as he stood in the middle. 

“No, no,” Severus said as he placed his hand on Sirius’ shoulder and gently placed him back on his seat. “You sit down if you don’t want me to go running my mouth about you-know-what.”

Sirius gave you a worried look, and it was your short nod that got him to yield. Severus smiled, clearly pleased about being the one with the power in the situation. “At least I have friends, when was the last time you talked to her?” 

Yeah, he might have known where to hurt you, but you also knew how to get back at him. “I have friends!” 

“Severus Snape has no friends,” you said, voice low. “Even the house elves whisper about it.” 

“I’ll make your life bloody miserable. Shatter your little dream house.”

“You’re welcome to try!” 

“Is everything all right?” Slughorn asked as he leaned closer to the three of you. 

“Just came to ask Sirius about some homework we’re working on,” you said as you patted your boyfriend on the back. “Good luck on your potion boys!” 

Remus had been looking at the whole confrontation from his spot, ready to jump in if it ever got to it. And when you walked back towards him, he’d already finished packing most of his, and your things. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you lied. The pang of your heart caused by Severus’ nasty words still echoing in your head. “Let’s get out of here,” you added as you slung your bag around your shoulder.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Since we're getting close to the end, I'm planning to do a reread (10-15 chaps left) + heavy revision once we're done (still a few months from there but it's probably going to be done sometime this year) because I want to make my own printed version of it (probably on Lulu), and perhaps a cute epub file? It will probably contain pictures, fan art, and other bonus material. Either way, if you want to collaborate, either in the revision or in bonus content, please don't hesitate to hit me up.

Leave a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

Read more Marauders Fiction

[dtilmnh]

Alright, let's be fucking for real here. The only reason that Peter gets as much hate as he does is because he's not conventionally attractive. He's ragged on constantly, belittled, made fun of, and hated on by everyone. And don't get me wrong, I hate Peter for what he did too, but the way the fandom treats Peter is not only so over the top and ridiculous, but also so hypocritical.

Like y'all are gushing over fucking Barty Crouch Jr who tortured Neville's parents to insanity, was as much a part of rebirthing Voldemort as Peter was, and was literally fucking 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 with the racist, genocidal maniac. But no, he's just "misunderstood", don't you know he has daddy issues? And Peter? Oh, Peter's the devil in rat form.

Peter is ostracised, ignored, and bullied by the authors and the other characters in almost every fanfiction. Half of the time he's just straight up ignored, he's barely mentioned in passing, and he's excluded from the fanarts. If he's included, he's hated on or dismissed in all the fanfictions, and in fanart he's almost always in rat form curled up somewhere where he can be easily ignored and people can focus on the other, far more attractive Marauders (and non-Marauders).

Peter is just a weak, stupid, irritating person that no-one actually wants around but puts up with for... reasons. He was never a "real" Marauder anyways, he was just in the background and out of frame while the others starred. The Marauders? That's James, Sirius, Remus, Regulus, Lily, and a slew of other characters that never even show up in the books. Oh look, and there's Peter tagging along too! That's the fandom portrayal of him anyways.

This could not be further from the truth. He was their friend. Do you really see James or Sirius choosing to hang around someone whose company they don't truly enjoy? Do you really think they're the types to keep someone around out of pity? Peter was their friend, their brother, their trusted. Hell, Sirius literally trusted him more than he trusted Remus (the Wolfstar shippers won't like that, will they?).

My point is that this wouldn't be his portrayal is he 𝘸𝘢𝘴 conventionally attractive. Fans would probably take him down the "morally grey characters" pipeline, give him a tragic backstory, characterise him as someone talented, cunning, and calculating (which he was). Now, would their attempts at providing complexity to his character fall as flat as every fanon version of every Marauders character and end up completely unrecognisable and ooc? Probably, yes. But let's be honest, that's happening to him anyways.

Peter Pettigrew is an extremely hateable character, because he's a bad person. Considering the number of straight up evil characters the fandom manages to feel sympathy for, Peter's treatment is blatant hypocrisy. He's not hated for betraying James and Lily, for framing Sirius, for 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 (the twelve Muggles, Bertha Jorkins, and Cedric Diggory). He's hated for the crime of being "ugly".

Not to mention, according to fans he's weak and stupid but also somehow a master manipulator and evil since the day he was born. He entered Hogwarts with the Dark Mark already on his wrist and got close to the others for the sole purpose of betraying them later (this is an exaggeration, but you get my point).

Make Peter a complex, morally grey character, with real feelings and emotions. Give him relationships, and dreams, and goals, and motivations. Give him hobbies and interests, give him character traits, give him skills. For the love of God, Merlin, or whatever ineffable deity you pray to, can you please just give Peter Pettigrew a fucking personality, and stop excluding him from every fanfiction, fanart, or other headcanon you make.

[ruinofchimera]

Hi, I'd like to know your opinion. Why do you think Peter betrayed the Marauders and blamed Sirius?

By the way, I hope you are very well.

Thank you for the perfect cue. Time to roll up my sleeves and dissect the bane of the Harry Potter fandom: Peter Pettigrew.

Why did he betray the Marauders? I like the phrasing. Because behind it, the real question to ponder is lurking. Did Peter ever betray his friends, or did he just betray the Marauders, the twisted idea of inclusion that he never really had? Oh, don’t get me wrong—there’s no denying that James and Sirius were practically the poster boys for friendship. No argument there. We’ve all heard that tear-jerking speech from Sirius: “I’d rather die than betray my friends.” And fair enough; Sirius had every reason to be an emotional wreck—he was talking about James, the only person he ever truly gave a damn about. Sure, we don’t know everything about their golden years, but what we do know makes it painfully clear: James and Sirius? They were a two-man act, a bond so tight it was as if they shared the same heartbeat.

But where on earth did this idea come from that someone else—anyone else—was ever part of that special bond? The books paint a pretty stark picture if you care to look. There was the alpha pair leading the charge, while the other two trailed behind, playing supporting roles. Look at how they chose Pettigrew to be Secret Keeper in the first place—not because they thought he was capable or smart, but because they figured no one would suspect him. Translation: “We don’t think you’re much good for anything, Peter, but hell, no one else does either, so maybe that’ll save our skins.” And yet somehow, fans cling to this rose-colored myth of brotherhood. Four souls, brought together by some unshakable bond of loyalty. Let’ get real here. There’s a very good chance that Peter didn’t even see James and the gang as friends. He was just along for the ride, hanging around like a dodgy uncle at a family reunion.

People love to reduce Peter’s Animagus form to a symbol of cowardice and betrayal, but they miss the real significance of what a rat actually represents—survival. And at his core, that’s exactly what Peter is—a survivor. Strip away all the noise, the grand ideals, and lofty heroics that everyone around him seemed so fond of, and what you’ve got left in Peter is raw instinct. He wasn’t guided by some deep-seated belief or conviction. No grand moral compass pulled him one way or another. He’s the embodiment of the quintessential “baby boy” trope—the “please take care of me” type. (Sorry, Regulus, but the Chalamet fancast isn’t enough to hold the title. Hand over the badge.)

What Peter craved more than anything was protection. It didn’t matter whether it came from James Potter or the Dark Lord himself. The man just wanted someone bigger, stronger, meaner to pat him on the head.

Pettigrew was already used to playing second fiddle to James and Sirius, who were so full of themselves they practically had their own gravitational pull. So when Voldemort strutted onto the scene, another powerful, arrogant tosser demanding followers, was it really such a massive shift for Peter? Hardly. It wasn’t life-changing. It was just a change of scenery. He did what he was best at: finding the biggest bully on the block and pledging his allegiance to survive. Sirius and James had been grooming him for it for years without even knowing.

It’s easy work, bashing Peter. Man’s got a face like a rodent and a spine to match—hardly the makings of a tragic anti-hero, is he? Sorry, Peter, but “pretty privilege” isn’t swooping in to save you like it did for Slytherin Skittles. If Pettigrew had even a hint of good looks, we’d have a library of fanworks trying to paint his redemption. But with a face like that? Not a chance. Instead, we get a convenient scapegoat for the fandom to rally against, letting the poster boys soak up all the angst. The sacred friendship betrayed! A tale for the ages, and people can boo-fucking-hoo about it for eternity.

As you can see from my lengthy ramblings, I’m doing just fine—so no worries in this department.

[dreamer0903]

Can we talk about Peter?

So, at first, I didn't like him, I only thought about canon when thinking about him (which is pretty stupid considering I loved Regulus, Barty and Evan from the start...but idk, betraying your best friends is pretty different???).

Anyway... I began to realise that I DO like young Peter and that unless the fic is canon, there is no real reason to hate him?

Especially if in the fic he doesn't do anything bad.

I want the canon story from Peter's POV, not to say that he what he did was okay, but just to better understand this!

But let's be real for a second guys, if we only read fanfics, I see no reason to not include him in them! He was one of the marauders, and I think that many writers just don't put Peter in the fics (or only in passing) simply because he is not really shipped with anyone.

And I think that's pretty sad and unfair 'cause I read some really good fic where Peter was actually characterised and I loved him!

Just now I started "The Scent In Our Clothes" by Antlers_boy

And I love Peter! He is actually a character and not just "Yeah that's Peter".

I also don't understand why if the fic is not canon, people have to hate him and write "the betrayal"...like, if there is a reason that's totally cool! But if it's just to make us hate Pete then idk...why don't you add "The prank" too?

Obviously, this is not a critic to writers bc you are free to do what you want with your works! I'm just saying that as a reader, I want more cute and interesting Peter!

(Also, this is my personal opinion. If you still hate Peter, it's okay. We just have different opinions)

Enough with the rant! Take care, babes ✨️

[shivstar]

The real Remus Lupin.

One thing suddenly came to my mind and it is not leaving me alone.

It is 25th anniversary of the prisoner of Azkaban. So perfect timing too.

So, please share your thoughts.

What do you think was Remus 's involvement in the creation of Marauders Map????

I am asking this because numerous fan fiction have gaslighted us all in believing that he was a core participant, if not the key person.

BUT.....

In POA, when he has an entire year, he could have shared such a treasured knowledge in helping finding that criminal Sirius Black.

Or if it was such a private information, he could have remade the map on his own or with the help of house-elves etc. Like anything. Putting efforts that show that he is really worried just like everyone else for Harry's safety. About all the dementors negatively effecting all the kids in school.

I never thought that among so many information he was sitting on, marauders map was one such info too.

Him finding the original map is such a coincidence. Like a fruit falling in his lap. And him running without thinking things through.

But either he was not involved in the creation. And the other three just wrote his name out of friendship. In that case, this is my closing argument to the debate that Remus was not all that intelligent and creative. It was all Sirius and James.

Or he had the weapon to catch Sirius and he didn't. Which is. Betraying James's memory and friendship. Peter's too. The same Peter, he knew up until this point, was killed by Sirius Black.

You guys tell me what it can be. Because if he was participants in the creation, he at the end would have learned how his friends did their share of creation. Like them passing their learnings. Etc. So dont comment and tell me that he must not know the other's portion of creation.

PS. - All those obsessive wolfstar fans who are going to say that he was in love with sirius and didn't want to use his knowledge because of any romantic reasons. Kindly stay away.

[noirwhisper]

So I wanted to talk about something, something serious,like dumbledore, I wanted to talk about why that guy pisses me off. Sweet,kind,protective, helpful dumbledore, but is he really that? Tell me? Dumbledore,famous for giving second chances.

The same dumbledore who let sirius black rot in azkaban for 12 years, 12 years. Away from his sweet lily's and his best mates james son,harry. Isn't your dumbledore famous for giving second chances? He gave a real death eater , severus Snape a second chance, despite him being the reason James and lily were dead. He was the one who informed voldemort of the prophecy. And you know what? He asked voldemort to spare lily and kill james and Harry. He got a second chance,why not sirius? Let me tell you why, because in dumbledore's plan,you see, sirius wasn't a useful pawn, he was rebellious, he wouldn't have followed whatever dumbledore said without hesitation. So he had to be eliminated

Let's talk about remus,we all talk about how dumbeldore gave remus, a werewolf, first a place at the school,and a job. Which is good,right? But he let remus, do odd jobs for 13 years after his bestmate james and Peter,and lily died. And his best mate, sirius betrayed him. He gave remus a Job 12 years later,why? Why? You see before, he didn't have any use for remus for those 12 years. He let a capable man do jobs well below his education and his capability, because nobody would hire a werewolf. And 12 years later,he finally had some use of him and hired him.

Hagrid. He supposedly trusted hagrid, meaning he was well aware that he was innocent. That he didn't kill anyone. So why didn't he help prove his innocent? He had 64 years, enough time to gather evidence. But no, he didn't.

He let harry potter,the chosen boy live 10 years with his abusive relative. He knew very well what kind of people they well. But he let harry rot 10 years in an abusive place.

These aren't the only people,but the story about these people and him not helping them, really , make me angry.

So if you thought that dumbledore is a sweet,kid and helpful soul, who helps everyone in need. Think again.

[hellojusthereforabit-blog]

Past Lives Pt. 1.5 - Bucky Barnes.

Ft. Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, and Natasha Romanoff.

"I can't do this, doll, I'm sorry."

"You with me, Y/N?" Sam bended to be eye-level with me.

"What?" I asked, brows furrowing in what I'm sure is a developing wrinkle.

Sam sighed, shaking his head and moving back to the drawing board, where an intricate capture-seize-and-return-to-current-time-line plan was etched.

There's no excuse. I was slipping. I was being unreliable. I could not be trusted with this mission.

"Can I trust you with this mission, Y/N?" Sam's voice was grave, devoid of its usual playful warmth.

No. "Yes." I replied, hoping my face did not betray just how out of my depth I truly was.

What was I thinking agreeing to a mission like this? Maybe Bucky was right. Maybe I did this just to twist the knife. I knew something was truly wrong with me when the idea of Bucky being sick with anxiety over me seemed attractive.

He hurt you, I reminded myself. As if this made it any more justifiable.

"I have the kid." Bucky's booming voice echoed through the compound walls as he approached the conference room.

Speak of the devil.

"Hey!" quipped Peter Parker, alias: Spiderman, from behind Bucky. "You do not have me, Mr. Winter Solider Sir, I came here willingly."

"Pipsqueak" muttered Sam from beside me.

I barely concealed my own laugh in time for Bucky to hit Peter with the infamous "don't call me that." line.

Peter's eyes zeroed in on me and his smile got impossibly wider.

"Y/N!" He seemed to jump in place, "Oh my God! It's so good to see you!"

I welcomed Peter's embrace, relishing in the confusion of the two men behind me.

"Back at you, kiddo."

"You two know each other?" asked Bucky with what seemed to be true disgust.

"Sure we do," I said, patting Peter on the back, "As far as anyone's concerned, this is my avenger-little-brother." I winked at Peter as we pulled away.

Something sobered in the room at the mention of my family. We were all un-kindly reminded of what was at steak here.

"Alright then, Spider," said Sam, back in Captain America mode. "Tell us how it happened."

--

"Reports of more than a dozen killed, and fifty more injured in the area. No group has yet claimed responsibility, but we urge anyone with any knowledge of this to get in contact with the local auth-"

"They weren't all civilians, y'know ." A silky-smooth voice spoke from behind me, interrupting the news anchor.

Shoot first, ask questions later.

Red hair and amused green eyes stared back at me from behind the barrel of my gun.

"Jesus, Nat!" I holstered the gun back to my side. "Don't you ever knock?"

"Why, so you can ignore me again?" she replied knowingly.

Natasha Romanoff, The Black Widow, was raiding my shelves for- whatever it was she was looking for. Having found a half-eaten bucket of ice-cream, she plopped down on my couch and shut the TV off.

"You should really stop watching the news, too depressing." she reasoned, licking the spoon clean off ice-cream.

Resigned to the situation, I dropped to the floor.

The silence in the apartment was short-lived.

I poked Nat's leg and looked up at her.

"I'm sorry about - all the ignoring stuff." It was a lame apology, but Nat deserved one, at least.

She stayed silent, clearly waiting for me to go on.

"It's just-" I started, unable to find the words. She hummed in response.

God, I was so grateful to have a friend like Nat, though you would have never caught me saying that.

I hope she knew.

"Ever since everyone was blipped," I tried again, only half-aware of Nat's leg freezing in place beside me. "I keep seeing them. Him." I breathed out.

"Bucky?" she asked, her demeanor quieter, more real.

I nodded and tried to keep going.

"He never even knew - I never even told him." I shuddered at the thought of what I was about to say next. "He died thinking no one loved him, Nat."

I felt a steady hand grip my shoulder.

"He knew he had a friend in you, Y/N," she said, ever the voice of reason.

But I was beyond reason then, gasping for breath.

"No," my voice cracked. Weak, like the rest of me. "Not like this."

I paused, collected my thoughts.

Out with it.

"Everytime something happens, the first person I want to tell is Bucky. His voicemail is probably barely functional from how many messages I left. But he's gone. They're all gone. I don't see a point in waking up every morning, I don't run, I don't train, I don't eat, Nat-"

I felt a thud beside me on the floor and a pair of strong arms hold me tight. Capable fingers pressed against my back until I was a sobbing mess in the lap of the deadliest assassin in the world.

I only grasped the faintest string of some Russian lullaby through the sounds of my own misery.

--

"Agent!" Sam's commanding voice echoes through the room, ricocheting off the walls and piercing my eardrums. "Copy on the plan or do we need to go through this a third time?" He asks, no mirth in that lovely face of his.

"I copy."

-

Hey guys, I promise the part with 40s Bucky is coming soon. It just feels right to add a little bit of depth to the story. Please let me know your thoughts! Your support from the previous part was incredible. Thank you and see you soon!

[juniperpyre]

I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to be hateful towards you. I don’t think it’s fair to blame James for his and Lily’s death: whole victim blaming isn’t right. Voldemort was winning the war and the walls were closing in. Peter wasn’t just some friend - and it wasn’t only Peter that James was trusting. Lily and Sirius agree to Peter. Sirius was the one who came up with the plan. I feel like that goes beyond James and his moral views. His brother and wife also agree to Peter, wouldn’t that greatly impact James’s opinion? Yes, Remus, years after and harden by grief, thinks James was too blind, but again, Peter is wasn’t just some person - he had earned their trust, kept their secrets, and fought alongside them. I understand James had his flaws and I’m not denying them, but it wasn’t arrogance or black and white thinking that brought James down - love did. He loved Sirius and Peter.

this is about this post.

hi okay, i don't take this as hate lol, i am a bit frustrated bc i almost put a qualifier like "(of course their deaths are the fascists' fault)" but it felt unnecessary.

the idea of james' trust being a reason his family dies is thematically interesting to me. dumbledore's fatal flaw (fatal for a bunch of people, not just him) is not trusting people. he thinks lily and james trusted the wrong person. and they did.

but if just a few more people had known about the plan sirius never would have gone to azkaban. maybe peter would've been too afraid to go through with turning them over to voldy. so there's a narrative tension between trusting too much and not trusting enough. dumbledore is egotistical and should have created a more cooperative resistance rather than being the ultimate head.

i very much reject the idea that love brought james and lily down. again, this is bc it weakens the narrative. i really stand by:

his high self-regard and his loyalty meant he couldn't fathom someone he considered a best friend betraying him. if he sees someone as good, they must be good. he'd never been wrong before!

i have a lot to say about james potter and black & white thinking that's in drafts, so that's for another time.

the responsibility for james, lily, and harry's deaths falls on voldemort, peter, and arguably dumbledore. jily shouldn't have been having to make choices to save themselves from being murdered!!! however, that doesn't mean james and lily's choices had no impact.

giving james flaws that are normal, human flaws and relating them to his canon positive traits (trust & loyalty) and then seeing how the mix of those traits contributes to his and lily's death is interesting. it is complex and tragic, because no one is perfect, and that shouldn't be a death sentence.

i hc that james struggled a lot with how to be a husband and father since (in my hc) his dad died before he and lily married. i imagine that, as a man in the 70s, he feels like it's his job to protect his family (he doesn't think lily is weaker but damn these gender roles have hands) and not being able to do so bc his wife is in a group that is being genocided and they're both fighting a war eats him up

so i do imagine him making the call. he knows peter better than lily does, and sirius obviously doesn't get final say. so james makes the call that results in their deaths, and sirius comes up with the idea that results in their deaths, and lily is passive and allows these "wrong" choices.

this isn't a fair way of putting it, but it's how each character sees themselves. this isn't a real-world cause and effect, it's exploring themes present in the og books thru character analysis and hc

i talk fairly often about the DE being fascists so honestly i don't think i need to qualify my posts with "of course the DE are the villains and the order are just trying their damnedest"

[dinarosie]

Still, to appease the more radical purebloods and future death eaters, Snape must have internalized some of that anti muggleborn propaganda that Voldemort was spewing and the hatred his Slytherin friends were spreading. Although I'm aware that majority of the wizarding society held some superiority over muggles and I even believe many of the so called good purebloods (like the Potters) were condecensing to muggleborns sometimes, tho unknowingly, there is a difference between quiet prejudice with no ill intent and the radical bigoted beliefs that some of the wizards held. The death eaters clearly believed that muggles were human sickness and muggleborns were no better and Snape was around that rhetoric every day and later became part of its circle. I always just saw Snape as a selfish person who tried to gain more power and a sense of belonging and he was insecure enough to believe many of the bigoted beliefs that was part of Voldemort propaganda or just the overall hardcore prejudice. He called muggleborns mudbloods even when he was Lily's friend. I always imagine him as someone who would dismiss Lily's feelings about slytherins and even gaslight her about Voldemort's propaganda and her worry behind anti muggleborns rhetoric. Like he downplayed it while participating in it at the same time. We can see this with any real life prejudice existing in our world. Many people who are homophobic try to create reasons for disliking gay people and when gay people complain about their hatred, they just downplay it, make it seem like its not that big of a deal or just continue with their excuses. I can see Snape being like that. And even if his reason for joining death eaters had nothing to do with violence and hatred, he became part of it anyway and being part of something like that influences the way you think especially if you wanted to be part of it. He also became part of it during the time the violence was already known and that certainly did not stop him so he must have had some prejudices or highly ignorant beliefs towards muggleborns.

It seems like you're very determined to apply a strictly logical, real-world mindset to a fictional, fantasy world. I get that imagining a Severus Snape with deeply ingrained, extremist, anti-Muggle biases would make more sense in a real-world context and may feel more "realistic". But that wasn’t the point of Snape’s character. This is a story, and not everything needs to follow real-world logic exactly. Even in reality, not everything unfolds as expected. Snape’s character is, in many ways, an exception—he surprises audiences frequently and makes choices that don’t always align with his past actions or logical expectations. Some of these contradictions seem deliberate; Snape has to exist in this gray area for the story to hold its depth and ambiguity.

So, while Snape does associate with future Death Eaters and, at times, seems to justify their actions, that doesn’t mean he fully internalized all of their views or intended to act exactly like them. Lily did a similar thing, in a way: she mentions that she often tried to excuse Snape’s behavior or overlook his mistakes. But we wouldn’t conclude that Lily agreed with or had adopted Snape’s beliefs. Another example is Peter Pettigrew, who is almost Snape’s opposite. Peter was sorted into Gryffindor, the very house that upholds Dumbledore’s ideals and values. He surrounded himself with people destined to be future Order members, yet look at what he became. Peter didn’t just reject his friends’ beliefs; he betrayed them completely and was loyal to Voldemort for years, even plotting his friends' deaths and stayed loyal to Voldemort for years afterward, to the point of risking Harry’s life for Voldemort's return.

I don’t deny that Snape held biases and some prejudiced views, whether as a teenager or a young Death Eater. But, as I mentioned in my previous post, there’s no solid evidence that he was an extreme racist, a torturer of Muggle-borns, or someone who delighted in the idea of “cleansing” the wizarding world.

As a personal opinion, I also feel that comparing real-world homophobia to anti-Muggle sentiment in the wizarding world isn’t quite the same. Muggles and wizards have a long, tumultuous history, and at one point, Muggles persecuted wizards to the extent that they had to hide their world to ensure safety and survival. This isn’t a distant past—Hagrid even mentions in Philosopher’s Stone that Muggles would likely exploit wizards if they discovered their powers. So, while homophobia is irrational and baseless, anti-Muggle sentiments in the wizarding world, however wrong, are somewhat rooted in historical fear and survival. It’s no surprise, then, that the wizarding society hasn’t fully let go of its anti-Muggle biases, even after the wars.

[thedrownedsiren]

The moonlight seeped through the cracks of the dirty window in the tiny room Peter Pettigrew had rented. The space was a reflection of his inner state: chaotic, empty, and covered in dust. Years had passed since he betrayed his friends, and though he had managed to survive the war, the price had been his soul.

He sat on the bed with a bottle of cheap whiskey in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. His reflection in the cracked mirror before him returned a gaze he no longer recognized. “Me, myself, and I,” he murmured bitterly, recalling the words he used to tell himself when trying to justify his decisions. He had believed it would be worth choosing survival over everything else. He thought loneliness would be a small price to pay for staying alive. But now, that loneliness was a monster devouring him from the inside.

The first time he convinced himself he had done the right thing was the night he gave away the Potters’ location. “I had no choice,” he had told himself as his heart pounded wildly. Voldemort had promised him power, protection, a reason not to fear. And for a time, he clung to that promise like a drowning man to a piece of wood. But each day that passed without James, Lily, and Sirius, the weight of his betrayal grew more unbearable.

“You’re a coward, Peter… a miserable coward,” the voice in his head told him. The same voice he had tried to silence for years, burying it under lies and excuses. But tonight was different. Tonight, he couldn’t hide. All he had left was himself, and that was no longer enough.

He staggered to his feet and dropped the bottle to the floor. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, reflecting the moonlight like fragments of fallen stars. Peter looked at the mess and, for a moment, wished those shards would hurt him, that something would make him feel anything other than this crushing guilt.

He had believed his loyalty to Voldemort would give him purpose, a place to belong. But he had been so wrong. He had traded the love of his friends for fear, and now he had nothing. Not even death wanted him. Every time he thought about ending it all, something stopped him: fear, guilt, or maybe that small part of him that still hoped for redemption.

“Me, myself, and I,” he repeated, letting out a hollow laugh. “That’s all I’ve got.” But the words sounded empty even to him. He sank to the floor, leaning his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. In the darkness, the faces of James, Lily, and Sirius haunted him like specters. James with his confident smile, Lily with her kind gaze, and Sirius… Sirius with the fury he had felt the day he discovered Peter’s betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, though he knew no one would hear him. Not them, not the universe, not even himself. Because deep down, he wasn’t sure his apologies were real. There was still a part of him that clung to his choice, justifying it with fear and the need to survive.

But another part… another part wished he hadn’t done it. Wished he had stayed and faced death alongside them. Because now he understood that death, though terrifying, was infinitely less painful than living with the weight of his decisions.

The moonlight continued to shine into his tiny room, but Peter didn’t move. He remained there, alone with his thoughts, facing the only truth that remained: he had chosen to save himself, but in the process, he had lost who he was.

[not-jeguluses]

resuscitation ✦ a sirius black microfic

— 706 words ; sfw ; wolfstar and platonic prongsfoot and black brother fluff ; fix it / crack lmao

“Hello?”

The first voice Sirius has heard in years and for some reason, the last one he expects to hear is Remus’. Or at least, he would be the least likely person if not for James’ cadence echoing through the narrow shoot to his cell directly after.

“Pads?”

Sirius calls out, his own voice grated from disuse, saturated in disbelief, “Guys?”

Then, the narrow gouge in Sirius’ cell where he’d been taking his meals is opening, widened by Remus’ handiwork, who is suddenly visible with his wand pointing at the stone. And next to him—

“James?!” He throws himself into his friend, unsure if he’s dreaming but not willing to waste a second of the reunion by taking any time to consider the reality of it. He wants to enjoy it.

James holds him closely, apparently uncaring of his emaciated form or rotting smell. “Sirius, you’re alright.”

“I’m alright? You died!” He shakes him without loosening his grip. “Moons, you better get in here. I’m not letting go of him but you know how terribly I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, alright.” Remus laughs and complies. “Let me get us out of here while I’m at it.”

Sirius hadn’t known that was an option. For a moment, he’s terrified. Worried that that change of scenery will wake him up. Then, there’s the tightening of apparation and he’s no longer in the oppressive atmosphere of Azkaban and instead in a cinnamon scented living room.

He’s free from the arms of his loved ones for an entire second in total before there's a mouthful of red hair and soft, freckled arms. “Happy birthday, Sirius.”  A toddler is tucked between them and he has tears filling his vision.

“This is real?”

Lily laughs in his arms but it’s not her that answers. “I hope so. I worked really hard to get here.” It comes from behind him and he pulls away from the woman only enough to see the source.

It’s Regulus, his hair the shortest Sirius has ever seen it, a contrast to the unprecedented length of his own. He’s dressed in a muggle button down and jacket but it’s visible only through his robes. He looks clean and light. Unburdened. If it wasn’t his brother, he might not have recognized him.

It’s with his eyes locked onto Regulus’ nearly identical irises, that Sirius loses consciousness.

✧˖°.♡︎⋆｡°✩

Later, when he’s feeling less lightheaded, Remus fills him in a bit and then Regulus, Lily, James, and Dumbledore stop by to explain the rest, the latter having joined them for tea and discussions after apologizing for his tardiness.

He learns of his brother’s bravery, inspired by the loss of Lily and James and his pride in his brother’s resilient pursuit of Peter. He finally confided in his knowledge of the locket, not knowing how important it was to the cause. Doubling as a spy for the Order, he had been in close contact with Snape and Dumbledore, without the knowledge of most members, who had returned his divulged information with the revelation of his theory on Voldemort’s creation of Horcruxes.

With everyone working together, it didn’t take long to gather the artifacts and destroy them. Helped further along by the sacrifice that Lily and James had made, which was returned with their lives when Voldemort’s curse magic had dissipated and undone each death carried out in the process of making Horcruxes.

“So, they just released me?”

At this, Regulus’ face falls and Remus hurries to explain. “Your release was a priority, it has been since we discovered that Peter was my counterweight. Secretly on Voldemort’s service. But the ministry is slow and—”

“Without us to prove it wasn’t you who betrayed us, it was hard securing your freedom. We’ve only been back three months and you’re already out.”

He is distracted by hands in his hair which isn’t surprising, Remus has been soothing the strands with his fingers while Sirius’ head lay in his lap for the past hour or so, but these hands are tiny and insistent.

Sirius shifts to look at Harry, who has crawled over to them from his blanket on the floor. “It’s over, then? Everyone is safe?” He asks Harry but addresses the room.

“Everyone is safe.”

[morningstarbee]

The funny thing is, Will was never really that bothered by Hannibal being a serial killer, or even a cannibal. Like that was never his problem with him, outside of the specific people Hannibal was killing being people Will cared about.

The reason Will is so angry with Hannibal in Season 2 is because Hannibal pretended to be his friend and then betrayed him. His feelings about Hannibal after being framed are shown pretty clearly in dialogue throughout Season 2:

Will: I felt so betrayed by you. Betrayal was the only thing that felt real to me. I trusted you, and I needed to trust you.

Hannibal: I feel like I've been watching our friendship on a split screen: the friendship I perceived on one side, and the truth on the other. Will: It's a terrible feeling, isn't it?

Will: Do you have a shadow, Peter? Someone only you can see, someone you considered a friend. He made you feel less alone until you saw what he really is?

Will doesn't want Hannibal to be arrested out of some moral goodness. He doesn't betray Hannibal in Season 2 because he thinks it's the right thing to do. It's revenge, plain and simple. His feelings were hurt, and he wants Hannibal to suffer as well. I see so many people upset with Will's actions in S2 as if they were a result of him being a cop and not him being heartbroken.

[oliveroctavius]

Doesn't the decision to get involved with Sam Bullit prove Gwen was a bad person?

Hey, I've been looking for an excuse to post about this. The Sam Bullit arc isn't really about Gwen (though it certainly reveals some things about her character). The Sam Bullit arc is about racist dogwhistles and why they work.

ASM #92 pg 19: "I will bring law and order to the people of this great city! I will show no mercy to the anarchists and all others who would destroy our way of life!"

Bullit's platform is not openly white supremacist in the sense that it doesn't overtly mention race. He talks about laws and safety in a way meant to appeal to rich white voters. The true meaning should be clear to anyone with any political awareness (who are those others and what is our way of life?), so why does this rhetoric attract "otherwise rational" people?

ASM #91 pg 6: "I want to volunteer to help you--in your campaign for DA. Because--I want you to bring Spider-Man to justice!" "We need strength--strength to punish those who mock the law! I will use such strength to bring Spider-Man and others like him to justice! I will not betray your trust."

Gwen makes her decision to back Bullit on the way home from her father's funeral. There's a very real phenomenon of tough-on-crime bills named after (white) murder victims. The grief of families who feel like justice hasn't been served is a powerful tool to push harsh laws while smothering any criticism as "disrespectful" to the victims. What’s in a Name? An Empirical Analysis of Apostrophe Laws, 2020.

Bullit showed up at George Stacy's funeral with this exact goal in mind, and when Spider-Man "kidnaps" Gwen later, he leverages the media obsession with white girls in danger for his cause. Gwen is a pawn, but she did offer her help first. Her desire for closure is very human and her short-sighted reactionary faith in "the law" is very white.

Oddly absent from your "proven bad person" takeaway is J. Jonah Jameson. The Bugle lends Bullit a platform to make Gwen's personal tragedy a political talking point. JJJ has the ~Black best friend~ excuse and everything, and he still blows past red flags like crazy.

ASM #91 pg 7: "Maybe they were better days than now! At least we had law and order then." "Yeah--and lynch mobs, and bread lines, and Uncle Toms..." "Come off it, Robbie! What's wrong with a man standing for law and order, anyway?" "Maybe it just depends on whose law--and what kind of order you're talkin' about, man!"

(Another point of this arc: marginalized groups learn to recognize dogwhistles pretty quickly for survival reasons. If they tell you something is a dogwhistle and you don't see it yet, look closer.)

ASM #92 pg 9: "Parker's story just served to open Jameson's eyes--but I've kept a dossier on you. I haven't been city editor all these years for nothing! I know where your support comes from. I know about the lunatic hate groups who are backing you. I know what you really mean by law and order!"

Late in the campaign, the Bugle switches sides. This scene tends to be described as JJJ giving the racists what-for, but the moment is truly Robbie's. (Note that it took Peter getting roughed up for Jameson to take this seriously!) JJJ can yell at Bullit all he likes without consequences, but Robbie is kidnapped and threatened by white supremacists in retaliation. It's Robbie's determination to speak up that eventually puts Bullit out of the running for good.

The Bullit arc isn't there to sort characters by Bad Person and Good Person. Neither Gwen nor JJJ have to personally hate black people for their self-centered sense of safety to be weaponized by a racist agenda. This is a Stan Lee PSA about masked bigotry and how it might appeal to you even if you consider yourself a Good Person.

But for some ~mysterious~ reason, Gwen's brief agreement and Jameson's brief rejection are the only parts of these two issues I ever see brought up, with Robbie's major role not mentioned at all. Some ideas fit more neatly than others into smug ship-war quote tweets and anon asks, it seems.

[carbuncle-paws]

I've made a pokemon AU for Peter :3 yaaaay! Doubt I'm the first to draw him as a sneasler but I'm not gonna let it stop me.

Some information!

Sneasler ♂ lv???

Dark / Poison Ability: Insomnia (might change this) Lonely nature + quick tempered Main Attacks: Slash, Lash Out, Dire Claw/Poison Jab, Hone Claws/Nasty Plot Lesser used: Bite/Crunch/Jaw Lock, Close Combat, Thief, Endure, Spite

Design notes:

Very tall (6'5'') and thin, even by species standards.

Completely hairless (and featherless) and by extension, no facial or feet markings. Torso and poison are discolored (both blue)

Ripped off both his forehead and chest gems, there are faint scars where they used to be. The one on his chest is covered by a gem you gave him.

Wears a hood made from a Mightyena's pelt.

The back of his claws (the blue part) is razor sharp, they're basically gigantic knives. If getting backhanded by them doesn't kill you, the poison probably will.

From a distance or in dark lighting, he can be easily mistaken as a human. He can also speak our language (just like meowth), his voice is raspy and a bit deep, perhaps from an injury.

The PeterAU x Reader story outline below, if you're interested!

Character/Story notes:

(OOOPS this sort of became a whole story teehee oh well. This is basically what my outlines look like but I probably won't make this into an actual fic. So, enjoy!)

He has no name, but wouldn't mind if you gave him one.

He grew up with a fascination for humans, and even learned to speak our language, but was betrayed by the ones he had trusted. He almost died, and was left hideously disfigured in the eyes of his species (furless/featherless and discolored). For a long time he hated all humans, and would murder any unfortunate enough to enter his territory. Until he met you.

He saves you from being eaten by a pack of Mightyenas, which goes against his usual hatred for your species. He stalks you through the mountain forests for a while, thinking that he'd gather reasons why you deserve to die so he can savor killing you himself.

Instead... he gets attached, and that infuriates him. From the shadows, completely unbeknownst to you, he helps you return to civilization. He looked forward to forgetting you, and going back to the worldview he's comfortable with.

But then you keep coming back to his territory, which is bad for two big reasons. He doesn't like the effect you have on him, and the area is dangerous... he doesn't want you getting hurt. So, without revealing himself, he tries multiple times to show you how his mountains are no place for a human. Nothing works. Ironically, he also does things to protect you from real threats.

His fleeting attachment for you grows into a burning obsession in time, and he wants so badly to interact with you. But not only is he a pokemon... he is also ugly.

One day he slips up, and you spot a glimpse of him through the trees, but it's too shaded and you mistake him for a person, and you call out to him. Instantly understanding what you've mistaken him for, he tentatively responds, but refuses to leave his hiding place. You figure he's just shy, but are happy to see another person who isn't afraid to visit these mountains, which have a horrible reputation. Probably because he's been killing people, but you don't know that. It's a shame, because you find it so beautiful up here...

Visiting him becomes routine for you. He says some really weird things, but the way he views the world is so unique and refreshing, and you form a fast friendship. He is very stubborn about remaining out of sight, but does start altering his appearance so he can stop worrying that the occasional glimpse you do get might give him away. He tailors a crude Mightyena hood for himself to obscure his face and ears.

He becomes desperate to spend more time with you, especially when you start talking about moving away someday soon, away from the town full of people who don't understand you. He wants to go with you... he wants to be your pokemon, but thinks you won't accept him as he is. His past with humans has him believing that trainers only value beautiful or strong pokemon. So he starts doing crazy things to prove his worth. Like, killing the strongest pokemon in the area, and leading you to its corpse to gauge your reaction. He hoped you'd be in awe and wonder what could've felled such a beast, and then he would reveal that it was him... but instead you were terrified, and sad for the dead pokemon.

It shakes him, makes him hate himself so much more. If a monster isn't what you want... then he'll just have to become human for you. He destroys the parts of himself that makes him different from you, starting by ripping off the gems on his chest and forehead. His claws will be next... but the pain and blood loss from just the gems is too much, and almost kills him. You find him while he's passed out, and although you don't recognize that he's who you've been speaking to, you rush him into town and save his life.

He wakes up in a pokemon center surrounded by strange humans, and freaks the fuck out. He wounds one of the nurses badly and would've killed someone he didn't hear you screaming at him to stop. The future he built up in his head, of either becoming your pokemon or close enough to a human that you might accept him, shatters in an instant. He runs, breaking out of the building and mindlessly fleeing into the mountains. You're shocked by his reaction, and something about the silhouette he makes as he escapes through the trees is familiar...

The people in the town know that he must be the monster that's been killing people, and at the same time, you realize that he's actually the boy from the mountains. Your dear friend. An armed mob storms into his territory intent on revenge, despite your protests. They locate his den and start a fire to smoke him out or kill him via burning or suffocation.

You had followed them, and when they start the fire you try to physically stop them. They're stronger though and throw you to the ground, yelling insults at you for defending such a loathsome creature. They kick you into the den so you can burn with him.

You hurry further inside but can't seem to find him... instead, he finds you. He lunges from the shadows behind you, not realizing who you are, pinning you to the ground and snarling in your face. He would have ripped your jugular out with his teeth if you hadn't wrapped your arms around him and hugged tight, instead of fighting him off like he expected. It confuses him and he thrashes to get away but you don't let go, and he slowly comes to his senses, realizing that it's you.

Why are you here, after everything he did? That he's done, his reputation as a people killer? You know who and what he is now, but you're still here and the way you hold him, whispering soothingly into his ear... Is this really happening or has he finally lost his mind? He breaks down and squeezes you back, sobbing into the neck he'd been seconds away from tearing his teeth into.

Smoke starts robbing his den of breathable air and brings the both of you out of the moment, forcing you to confront the situation at hand. You try to run back to the exit first, but it's engulfed in flames. He takes you further inside, to where he usually sleeps, and light shines through a crack in the rocks above. He pushes you up to it and you crawl out, but he's too big to follow and he urges to go without him. This is the fate he deserves.

But you refuse, and start tearing at the stone and dirt above the opening with your bare hands. It finally sinks in, seeing you desperately trying to save him, just how much you really care and maybe... maybe that means his life might be worth living after all. That he deserves another chance.

He joins your efforts and uses his claws to pry apart more of the stone. It takes a gargantuan effort, and he starts to pass out as the oxygen in his den dwindles. You grab onto his arm and pull with all of your strength, and against the odds are able to drag him out.

You're both exhausted and completely out of breath, but you drag him into another embrace anyways. You tell him to never ever sacrifice himself like that again, that he's so important to you and you'd be devastated to lose him. You ask him... if he would go with you, away from here, and although the strong emotions that overtake him have him choking up too much to respond with words, the way he holds you back is all the confirmation you need.

Together the two of you travel far, far away, going on an adventure that explores the best and worst that humankind has to offer, and form an unbreakable bond.

Aaaaand that's it! Sorry if it's pretty cheesy hahahaha it's just what my brain went for in the short amount of time I wrote this up. Again, probably not going to write an actual fic out of this (or at least I won't consider it until my current one is finished) but I had a lot of fun and it was a nice little break before delving back into Angels Fall. Hope you guys liked it too >w</