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theasstour · 3 years

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𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟐.𝟏𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE! ARCHITECT!HARRY! 🏛️❣️✨ It’s been ages since I posted writing on here and it feels good to be back! Believe me when I say that though nothing much happens in this chapter, something will go down in absolutely every chapter, so you’ll hopefully be entertained at one point AOIJFOIREJ! I absolutely adore architect!harry (yearly as much as I adore you lot), I hope you lot will too! Now, let’s start this journey, shall we? 🥰🌟

Friday, 15 September 2017

Monday September 8th 2014. Y/N had spent an abnormal amount of time thinking about that day over the last three years. Sometimes, even if she were in the middle of something else or thinking about a topic completely unrelated, it would just come back to her. Like a flash, as if someone turned on the dim light inside a dark room, she would be taken back to a time, a moment, that would be burned into her brain forever. It would paralyse her for a few seconds, making her unable to do or think or be anything besides that memory. It was almost like, at this point, she thought the ghost of her sister would never quite leave her.

The countless times she had recounted this specific memory, Y/N could never remember exactly what it was that had woken her that late Monday night, or morning rather, in September 2014. One second she was asleep, and then the next, she was awake. She remembered herself looking at the blinds of the window, how they weren’t fully closed that night for some reason, so the orange light from the streetlamp outside shone through the small slits, her room completely silent. This must have been what woke her up from her trance. The blinds were always closed, and the window was always open, letting in fresh air and the noises of Nottingham into her room. It was like her conscious had done it for her, alerted her that something was off and she needed to check her surroundings.

Y/N blinked, realising that the only sound in the room was her eyelids meeting and parting, and the rustling of her bedsheets as she made to sit up in bed. That was when she noticed a flicker of movement in the shadow beside her door. Something unexpected, something unlike what normally was.

“Hello?” Y/N asked, voice hoarse as she sat up completely in bed.

The room was quiet save for the sound of a trainer against Y/N’s carpeted floor. It was faint, and had Y/N’s window been open, she probably would not have heard it. She didn’t remember how she felt in that moment, it was like all emotion was stripped from that memory in order for her to objectively pick it apart over and over and over again. She could therefore not remember how she had felt when she recognised her sister, but she knew she must have been shocked.

“Marcela?” Y/N asked when she recognised the short brown hair of her sister in the shadow on the wall.

A small sigh and Y/N’s older sister stepped forward, letting the dim light of the outside streetlamp wash over her. Y/N had always envied her older sister for right about anything. The colour of her brown eyes, the way her hair looked almost bronze-coloured if the sun hit it just right on late summer afternoons, her wide and pretty smile, charming personality, and slim body were some of the many things that Y/N was jealous of. It just seemed like her sister lived a better, more eventful and meaningful life than Y/N ever would.

Even standing there, wearing a white and lilac floral summer dress, dungaree jacket and white Vans, in the middle of the night or early morning, Y/N thought Marcela had everything together. But whatever happened next to Y/N’s sister, Marcela could never have had it fully together, Y/N realised that now. Nothing that gruesome, that unknowable, could happen to someone who had it all figured out.

“Mari, what’re you doing here?” Y/N asked, reaching for her glasses on the nightstand and pushing them onto her face. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Newport?”

“Yeah,” Marcela answered, smiling at Y/N as if her being in her little sister’s room that late at night, when the world was asleep, was completely normal.

“What’re you doing here?” Y/N asked again.

“I forgot some things. Kit and I are on the way back. He’s waiting in the car.”

In that moment, Y/N did not think to ask Marcela of what exactly her sister had forgotten in Y/N’s room, which was again something she had beaten herself up for since.

“Y/N,” Marcela said, cocking her head to the side and smiling ever so slightly. “You should be asleep.”

Y/N forgot how to speak, just looking at her older sister as her still slow and sleepy brain tried to comprehend what was going on.

“It’s late, you’ve got school tomorrow.” Marcela walked backward towards the door, still directing that same reassuring smile at Y/N on the way there. “You know how grumpy you’re gonna be tomorrow morning if you don’t get your eight hours.”

“When will you be back?”

Marcela smiled. “Next weekend. I told you this.”

Y/N nodded again, feeling like this was all some sort of hallucination. Maybe it was just a dream.

Marcela held up her right hand and showed off the tattoo just below her thumb. One letter, for Y/N. Y/N’s hand immediately fell to the M just below her own right thumb. A M for Marcela. They had gotten it four months earlier for Y/N’s 16th. Y/N still remembered how scared she was, she did not want to be in pain. Marcela had informed her that it would hurt, but it would all be worth it in the end. Her sister had gotten a few tattoos, most of them up and down her arms, but Y/N knew she wanted even more of them. Y/N supposed her love for tattoos had started because of her sister. After her sister died, Y/N had just gone on to get more and more tattoos. She supposed it had been a coping mechanism in the beginning, to somehow feel close to Marcela, yet forget about her and everything for a little while as the smell of fresh ink, the sound of the needle, and the feel of a tingling pain took over all she knew.

“I’ll be back next weekend. Promise. Just let me have this week with Kit, yeah?”

Y/N swore she could hear a slight tremor to her sister’s voice. However, Marcela was not shaking as she took a hold of the door handle, and she did not look the slightest bit scared or like she was crying for help. No, she just looked like the Marcela Y/N had always known. And that was the problem. Nothing had been out of the ordinary. Something had to have been out of the ordinary.

“Y/N?”

She blinked, realising that she had been fixated on the M tattoo by her thumb again. She would sometimes drift off like this, thrown back to that moment in time that haunted her still, three years later.

“Amorzinho?”

Y/N looked up at her father who glanced over his shoulder at her, a slight furrow to his brows as if he knew exactly where she had just been. Davi and Y/N had always understood each other like that, especially after everything with Marcela happened three years ago. They would sometimes just find the other one staring out into thin air, or at something significant to Marcela, and the other would know right away where the other one had gone. Y/N did not know what memory her papai went back to, she never asked and, quite frankly, did not want to know. That whole experience was hard enough as it was, she had enough with her own memories and regrets.

“Y/N, you alright?” Davi asked, reaching for his daughter’s knee and squeezing it lightly. His positioning was a bit awkward from where he sat in the passenger seat and she sat right behind him in the car, but she felt reassured by his tender action nevertheless.

“Alright, pai,” Y/N answered, laying her hand on top of his.

Her father had always been the affectionate type. He would always go around touching the people that meant the most to him, whether it was a light caress to their cheek, a squeeze to their shoulder, a long hug, or a kiss to their cheek. Having grown up with a single mother and an older sister, he had learned from the best, and had not changed, even for his wife who had never been huge on showing affection. Y/N guessed that, in the case of her parents, opposites really did attract.

Where her father was loud, welcoming, and vulnerable, her mother was a bit more reserved, quiet, and tough. However, when Lottie had, at the ripe age of 24, travelled around South America with her mates after finishing her business degree, she had met Davi in Santos in Southern Brazil, the state of São Paulo, and they had fallen in love right away. It took a year for Lottie to leave Santos after that, bringing her then fiancé with her home to meet her family in Nottingham. Since then, the two of them had been together, and had brought Marcela and Y/N into this world.

It would be weird to not spend every single day with her parents. Everything was about to change drastically. The last time abrupt and extreme change had happened was that morning when Y/N’s parents realised Marcela hadn’t made it home from their cabin in Newport, Wales in time. It had been the day she disappeared. When they had gotten the news that she was murdered.

Y/N hoped her papai couldn’t tell that she was shaking.

“It’s not far now,” Lottie said from the driver’s seat. “Just a few minutes.”

Y/N nodded, looking out at the busy streets of North London as they drove on.

“You know what?” Davi said.

“What?”

“I think this is gonna be amazing.”

Y/N smiled at that, squeezing her father’s hand. “Yeah… I think it might be, too.”

“You will meet so many new people and learn so much. It will be the best time of your life.”

“I’ve told you, love. University was the absolute best time of my life.”

Davi looked at his wife.

Lottie clicked her tongue. “Oh, you know what I mean!”

“I do not. You say the best thing to ever happen to you is me, and yet-“

“-Darling, uni was the best time of my life, but meeting you was the best thing to happen to me.”

Davi threw his hands up in the air in exaggerated frustration, muttering something in Portuguese that Y/N did not catch. However, she couldn’t help her slight chuckle, and the grin on her face only widened when she saw her mother smiling, and then her father taking her hand, planting a lingering kiss to her skin before putting it back on the steering wheel. It was nice to witness casual affection between them like this. It was normal for Y/N to see it at this point, they had been like this her entire time growing up, but it was nice to be reminded that her parents loved each other.

“We’ll be on Orsman Road in five minutes tops,” Lottie said, looking back at Y/N as she stopped at a red light. “Nathan’s gonna meet you outside with your flat keys and such, yeah?”

“Yeah, he said he’d pick them up for me at the letting firm before I arrived.”

“Good,” Davi said.

“It’s nice that you get to move into an actual flat your first year of uni so that you get to be with someone you already know,” Lottie said. “As long as the uni’s got your address and knows you’ve got someplace to live, not living in uni accommodation is alright, if I understand correctly.”

“That’s what they said, anyway,” Y/N said.

“You just need a home. You’ll be home with Nathan.”

Y/N nodded, looking out at Hackney as they drove on. “Yeah.”

“He’ll take you to campus after, yes? So you can register and everything?”

Though Y/N had gone over this plan with her parents countless of times these last three hours, as well as the days leading up to departure, it seemed that her mum needed to be reminded one too many times. Taking a deep breath, Y/N said, “Yes.”

“Good. It’s important that you make it there by your time slot at 5. Reckon there’s heaps of students that are going to register at Helmond today.”

“Probs.”

“It’s important to be on time.”

“We will be.”

“Yeah, remember-“

“-Charlotte,” Davi said, putting his hand on his wife’s thigh. “Y/N’s got it under control.”

Lottie chanced a look at Davi as she turned off the main road and onto a smaller one. Y/N recognised this street from the FaceTime calls with Nathan where he had shown her around the street and flat. Though Y/N had been looking forward to this day for what felt like centuries, parts of her were still nervous, and Nathan’s video guides around her new flat and new neighbourhood had calmed her nerves considerably. She felt like she had already been here, but she could not wait to explore the areas of Hoxton and Hackney that she had yet to see.

As they drove down Orsman Road, Y/N could make out a figure in the distance that she felt like she had not seen in ages. A grin was instantly planted on her face and she fidgeted in her seat, wanting to jump out of the car and in Nathan’s direction. Her tall, lanky, slim, red-haired best friend stood by the entrance to what Y/N assumed would be 36 Orsman Road, squinting in the direction of Y/N’s car. At the sight of it, he started jumping up and down, waving enthusiastically as if he was stranded on a deserted island and a plane was flying by over him. Davi laughed, recognising his daughter’s best friend from the countless sleepovers, dinner parties, and drives home drunk from house parties on the other side of town.

Nathan banged on the window as Lottie parked the car by the side of the road, walking as the car was reversed into place, grinning at Y/N the entire time.

“Oh, my life,” Nathan said through the window, hands pressed against it. Y/N pressed her own against his. “I swear, you’ve taken ages. Thought you were gonna stand me up there.”

“Mate,” Y/N said, opening the car and throwing herself into Nathan’s arms. “Couldn’t miss going to uni with you, could I?”

Nathan squealed and hugged Y/N back, though he had to bend at an unnatural angle in order to do so.

“Nate, how are you?” Lottie asked as her and Davi started unloading the boot of the car, putting bags and boxes on the pavement to be carried upstairs.

“Can’t complain, Lottie, I really can’t. Just moved into a flat with me mates, we might go out tonight, and I have the pleasure of seeing your beautiful face today.”

Lottie laughed, squeezing Nathan’s arm before putting one of Y/N’s bags on her shoulder.

“Right, it’s the first and second floor,” Nathan explained, and upon seeing Davi’s confused expression, added, “It’s split-level.”

“Ahh!”

“Right.” Nathan bent down, taking one of the cardboard boxes. “I’ll show the way.”

“Stay behind, will you, darling?” Lottie asked Davi. “Just so we don’t leave anything on the pavement for anyone to nick.”

“Yes, you go ahead,” Davi answered, waving them off.

Nathan opened the front door and let Y/N and Lottie enter first. From the video calls, Y/N knew that once she arrived at the first story landing, the door to the left would be her and Nathan’s flat. Her new home. She was unsure if it would really dawn on her that she was going to be living on her own, without her parents, for the next three years, two of which were spent with Nathan in this flat. Living without her parents seemed liberating, but also terrifying. How was she going to survive without her papai’s cooking? Without the sound of her mother’s sewing machine? Without hearing their laughter as they watched something on the telly in the living room right below her room? How would she just go on living normally without them being close, like they had been all her life?

Nathan used his elbow to open the door and walked on in first this time to hold the door open for Y/N and her mum. Now, with her own two eyes, Y/N took in the place she would be living in over the next year, maybe two. The foyer they entered wasn’t long, but it had no particular furniture in it except for a painting on the wall opposite the stairs. Y/N suspected the landlord had printed out the popular painting and put it in a frame.

To her left was a slim white door – which matched the rest of the walls of the flat – that she knew to be the very spacious wardrobe. She would put her cardboard boxes and bags there once she was done unpacking, at least that was what Nathan had told her over FaceTime because he had done just that himself. To the right was another white door, this one with a window over it, and yet again, she knew this was where the kitchen would be. The door was open as she walked by, so she sneaked a look at it. The European Oak parquet stood in nice, warm contrast to the white cupboards and black countertops that went along the right wall and the wall right opposite to the door. Above the counter to the right, along the white tiled wall, was a long and small window. The view was nothing to brag about, just a greyish brick building and the pub on the other side of the road, The Stag’s Head.

Further along, the door into the living room stood open. As Lottie studied the kitchen, Y/N stood in the doorway to the shared space to just take a good look with her own two eyes. This, along with the bedrooms upstairs, was the only place in the flat with carpeted floor. The grey carpeted floor looked worn, as if it had been stepped on and used for countless of years prior, there were stains some places from what Y/N could only assume to be red wine and coffee. The left wall had four sets of windows; two smaller ones on the side and two bigger ones in the middle, where the smaller ones were the only ones it seemed that the tenants could open. The windows overlooked Regent’s Canal and the dark brown brick buildings on the other side. Not the prettiest view, but then, they were students and there weren’t many places in Haggerston, London that offered something pretty to look at.

Right underneath the windows, there was a radiator, and right beside that, positioned with its back against the wall opposite to the door where Y/N stood, was a blue sofa. In front of it, positioned against the wall facing it, was a table where a small telly was propped. A PlayStation was already plugged in and Y/N hoped it would be possible for her to somehow play Mario Kart on it as any other games did not interest her. Beside the sofa and the wooden coffee table in front of it, stood a red Poäng Ikea armchair with a footrest to match. That one also looked as worn as the rest of the living room. Y/N was sure that if she sat down, the chair would simply give out and turn to dust under her.

“Up we go,” Nathan said, walking straight past Y/N and up the stairs that leaned against the wall opposite to the living room and kitchen.

Before following her best friend, Y/N looked out through the windowed door, leading out to a mini terrace. You could barely fit two people out there, but she reckoned it would be a lush way to start her mornings. A fresh cuppa and the dreary sight of Haggerston.

“Y/N, you coming?!” Nathan called, making Y/N jump.

She looked back at her mum who just flashed a tight-lipped smile her way. Taking that as a good enough sign, Y/N followed Nathan upstairs. The hallway she was then presented with looked exactly like the one downstairs. However, right in front of her were two doors; the one to the left leading to the small toilet room, and the one beside it to the sink and shower. There was a door to her right as she came upstairs, two to her left, and another one right above where the terrace would be downstairs. That was the room Nathan was in now, putting down Y/N’s cardboard box.

“I’ll run downstairs and let Davi up so he can have a look,” Nathan smiled, walking past Y/N and Lottie to run down to the ground floor again.

The only things the room had to offer were a queen-sized bed, which at 204cm, took up all the space from wall to wall, but luckily enough, there was a drawer behind the door where Y/N could at least put all her clothes. This was the smallest room she had ever lived in.

“This is… rather spacious,” Lottie said, walking over to the windows above the bed and opening them both to let some fresh air in.

“Can’t really expect much if I’m gonna live in London, though. And I’m a student.”

“Precisely.” Lottie took her hands on her hips, looking out at the view from Y/N’s window. It was the same one as from the terrace just under them. The weather that day had been just as nice as Y/N had suspected of the South; a little-too-hot early autumn afternoon, partly cloudy, with busy pavements and crowded parks. She knew that the weather would soon match what she was used to from the Midlands. Even though she would now live farther south, she knew lousy weather was just as likely in London as it was in Nottingham. Y/N was suddenly very happy her mother had opened the windows to let in some of the canal wind.

A small sniffle sounded, and Y/N immediately looked to Lottie who still had her face turned away from her daughter.

“Mum?”

“Look at that!” Davi exclaimed, entering the room with a massive grin on his face.

The different reactions her parents had to the flat just reminded Y/N of how different they were.

“I know, pai,” Y/N said, looking around her room. “A wee bit small, but I’ve never needed much, have I?”

“With all those clothes you’ve brought?!” Lottie asked, looking down at the bag where Y/N’s clothes were, still not meeting anyone’s gaze. “You have too much clothes for your own good. When do you even use most of it?”

“Well, I don’t usually bring out the crop tops and see-through shirts for family gatherings, mum. Might be it.”

“Thank God.”

Y/N watched her mum for a few seconds, knowing something was wrong the moment she started fussing over the bare bed in front of her.

“You need a nightstand,” Davi pointed out, walking over to stand by the bed, indicating with his hand where the nightstand would go. “And a desk.”

“Nathan and I talked about popping by an Ikea. Nearest one’s in Greenwich, I think. Or Wembley.”

“Good! Nathan hasn’t brought his car down, has he?” Davi asked.

“No, he left it-“

“-Speaking of Nathan, I’ll go downstairs and let him carry the last box upstairs.” Before either Davi or Y/N could say anything else, Lottie was out the door and down the stairs, walking down to the car again.

Y/N looked at her papai, seeing a slight furrow to his brows as he regarded his wife retreating downstairs.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked in a low voice, listening to the sound of her mother’s footsteps down the stairs.

Davi met Y/N’s eyes, shrugging one shoulder. “Think she’s a little sad.”

Y/N bit the side of her mouth, sighing slowly.

“It’s a weird day. You’re moving away to University, and last time… last time we drove one of our daughters away like this, she didn’t come home.”

For some reason, Y/N had seen something like this happening. Though her mother had a weird way of showing it, she was constantly terrified after what happened to Marcela, and she was especially protective of Y/N. It had been hard for Lottie to let Y/N have any sort of social life that first year after Marcela. She would want to know everything about where Y/N was heading, who would be there, what they were going to do, and when Lottie could come and pick her up. Though this had been alright in the beginning - Y/N had known even then that it must be her mother’s way of coping with everything – it got a bit much as months, and then years went on. Y/N loved her mother, she really did, but she acted as if Y/N could not protect or take care of herself, something she was more than capable of.

“Pai, I won’t die at uni.”

“I know,” Davi said, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “But your mother still has a hard time taking it all in. You won’t be home, and she won’t have you near anymore. It’ll be a lot.”

Y/N nodded, resting her head back against her papai’s arm.

“Cosy moment,” Nathan smiled as he entered the room with the last box, placing it down on the floor beside the other ones.

“Is mum downstairs?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, she’s by the car. Think she’s waiting for you two.”

Y/N and Davi nodded, Davi then taking a last look around his daughter’s room, smiling as he already knew she would make the bleak setting one many would envy. Y/N, after all, had always had a sense for these kinds of things.

“I’ll wait in my room, which is the one by the toilet,” Nathan informed, pointing to the open door behind him. “Just come knock when you’re ready to head for the uni, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll only be a minute.”

“No worries, babes, take all the time you need.”

Y/N smiled, walking past Nathan while Davi gave him a hug, wishing him good luck to come in the approaching first semester of University. It would be Nathan’s second year, so he knew what he was going into compared to her, but she knew Nathan appreciated Davi’s encouraging words regardless.

Y/N walked down towards the ground floor, her papai right behind her as they exited the flat building. Lottie stood by the car, arms crossed and eyes on something further up the street. It was as if she was looking for something, making sure it was safe for her Y/N to live there without her mother’s supervision.

“Mum,” Y/N said, now recognising the worry on her mother’s face. “Mum, it’ll be alright.”

She walked straight for her mother, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace. Though it would normally have been the other way around, the parents reassuring their kid they would be fine on their own, Y/N now patted her mother on the back and felt her bury her face into her daughter’s shoulder. Davi walked over as well, placing a hand on Lottie’s arm, squeezing her lightly. Some time went by without any one of them saying anything, just feeling and processing the words left unsaid.

Soon, Davi let out a small sigh, hugging the back of Y/N’s frame and mumbling her name against the top of his daughter’s head.

“We’re going to miss you,” he said, leaving a kiss against her hair.

Too caught up in her mother’s sadness, Y/N did not realise until just then that this was the moment she had been dreading. This one, where she stood by her parents’ car, saying goodbye to them and watching them start on their drive back home to Nottingham without her.

It was a complex state of being. Going away to University, starting a new life for herself, was something Y/N had dreamed of for as long as she could remember. She wanted to experience new things and to study something she was passionate about. But part of her was still pulling her back towards Nottingham, home. It would feel wrong, maybe even like being abandoned, thrust into adult reality, when she watched her parents drive off.

The thought of her living in the biggest city in the country by herself, did not sit right with her in that second. She was suddenly six again, her papai teaching her how to ride a bike. She was eleven, getting her period for the first time and her mother showing her how to use a pad. She was sixteen, having forgotten she had an important maths exam the next day, resulting in her and Davi sitting up for hours until she knew what she was doing. She lived at home, where her parents could protect her, help her, guide her, and provide for her at any given second. They would always be there whenever she needed them, always close and ready to pour every ounce of love onto her.

But now, even though she knew her parents would still love her the same and always be at her service whenever she needed them, now they would live separate lives. She would still be part of their lives and they would be part of hers, but they would not intermingle, get stuck, and weave themselves together like they had done since Y/N’s day of birth and until now. Y/N had not lived a single day in her life where she had not physically been close to her parents in one form or another. She had known it would be hard to watch them leave, she knew she would hate herself for this once she sat in her room all alone that same night or when researching information for an essay in a month’s time. Even though part of her was looking forward to what was to come, another part did not want to be left. She wanted a new life, but she was terrified of letting the old one, the safe one, go.

“Oh, my baby,” Lottie said as she pulled away, taking Y/N’s face in her hands. “My wee Y/N.”

Y/N went back in for another hug just so her mother wouldn’t see how glassy her eyes were. She felt them stinging and knew she would shed a tear soon.

“You will have no problems at uni,” Davi said, squeezing his daughter.

“How do you know that?” Y/N mumbled into her mother’s shoulder, closing her eyes as to make sure no tears escaped. She felt pathetic, but the overwhelming realisation that her parents would leave her in a few minutes had hit her like a brick.

“Because we know you. We know you’ll make friends; we know you’ll excel.” Davi took a step away, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Deep down, you know that, too.”

“As much as I hate the fact that I won’t get to see you every single day or know what you’re doing, I know you’re going to love being at University and you’re going to love London,” Lottie said, rubbing Y/N’s back.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Y/N sounded like a wee child, refusing to let her parents leave her at kindergarten for seven hours.

Davi squeezed Y/N’s shoulders again. “It’ll be alright, querida.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I do. You feel like this now because this is a huge change. University is the beginning of adult life, it’s scary, but you’ll love it.”

Y/N chose not to argue with her papai as she knew he was only trying to make her feel better. And also, though she did not want them to leave, she knew that the longer she stayed there with them, the higher the risk was for her to bawl her eyes out into her mum’s shoulders. Slowly, making sure to wipe her eyes discreetly against her mother’s shoulder, Y/N stepped away from her parents, trying to smile at them both. She knew they could tell she was about to cry, but was grateful that neither one of them pointed it out.

“Goodbye, my baby,” Lottie said, stroking Y/N’s cheek. “Please call us tonight or tomorrow, we want to see your room when it’s all finished.”

Y/N nodded. She always kept her mouth shut when she was about to cry, it was as if speaking made all emotion float out of her through her open mouth, and she started crying uncontrollably.

“We’ll see you soon,” Davi smiled. “Remember to have fun, yes? This is going to be so much better than you think.”

She smiled, watching her father sit down in the passenger side and her mother climb into the driver’s side.

“Remember your time slot, Y/N. Remember to get to the uni on time to register-“

“-Lotts,” Davi warned.

“Right, alright,” Lottie sighed, getting the car going. She turned back to Y/N one last time blowing her a kiss. “Love you.”

“Te amo!” Davi shouted, waving and grinning at his daughter.

Y/N was left standing there looking after the car as her parents drove off. She was unable to move for a moment, the only thing she managed to do was stare after the car until it was out of sight. When it was, Y/N felt an instant sort of empty feeling in her stomach. She was on her own. Her parents were on their way back to Nottingham, and she was here. In London. Alone. Momentarily, Y/N’s excitement about uni and everything she would experience these next three years, was all insignificant. The lack of her parents’ presence was like stripping reality of warm colour, replacing them with the dreary and cold.

She felt her eyes begin to sting and let one tear roll down her cheek. Then, wiping the next few off her face, she started making her way up to her new flat. She closed the ground door behind her, and then the front door of the flat when she reached it. Nathan was out on the balcony with a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other. He did not notice Y/N as she walked up to her room again and she was very happy he did not.

Walking straight for the bathroom, the door right in front of the stairs once you reached the first storey of the split flat, Y/N closed and locked the door afterwards. She turned water on, scooped some coldness into her hands and splashed it over her face. Without hesitating, she did it again, turning the tap off before looking at herself in the mirror above the sink. She wiped the water off her face with the sleeves of her jumper, cursing herself for not having brought a towel in with her.

“You’re a bad bitch,” she hissed at her reflection. “Why’re you crying?”

A small gasp left Y/N’s lips and she turned the tap on again, splashing her face with more cold water. She had no idea if it was helping any, but she had a strange sense that by doing it, she would feel better afterwards. However, looking at herself in the mirror again, she did not feel the least bit better.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked herself in a whisper. “Can you stop crying? There’s literally no need to cry.”

But there was, her brain retorted, and that alone brought more tears to her eyes. Y/N knew that had she been driven down here by her parents to be on holiday for a week or two, she would not have cried. Maybe she would have cried the day before going home because she would rather be in London than Nottingham because she loved it so much, but she would not have cried when her parents drove off. In fact, she was sure she would have loved to see them go and known she was free to do whatever she wanted, when she wanted.

But this was different. She lived in London now. Her mother couldn’t just come whenever Y/N needed her, and her papai couldn’t stop whatever he was doing to help her with whatever she was struggling with. It was a new life. A new beginning. And she had to do it all alone. She was used to being alone by choice, she didn’t like this feeling of alone.

“Y/N?!” Nathan called as he walked up the stairs. “Y/N, you in your room?!”

Taking a deep breath and wiping a little excess water off her cheek, she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped outside just as Nathan stood in the doorway of her room. Nathan took one look at her and said, in a quiet and low tone, “They left?”

Y/N inhaled slowly. “Yeah.”

Nathan walked over to her, bringing her in for a hug. Y/N hugged him back tightly, appreciating the reassurance. She knew she wasn’t alone, she had Nathan after all, but it was still strange to be here without her parents.

All her time throughout school, Y/N had looked forward to moving away to University. Her and Nathan had planned out their lives once they got to uni, in detail, and could spend hours on end just making plans for Freshers Week and the parties they would attend. Having been friends since year three of school, the two of them had made a lot of plans throughout the years. Most of the plans, they had never gone through with, but it was still fun to imagine. Neither could remember what exactly had gotten them to talk to one another that first time, but they had always suspected it was their mutual friend, Ella, who had gotten them talking. Since then, Nathan and Y/N had been inseparable.

They always did the stupidest things together, annoying all their friends and family. They got their license on the same day, would often sleep out in one of their gardens just because they could, always made the other a Build-a-Bear for their birthday, knew each other’s favourite scents, tastes, turn ons and turn offs, and everything in between. It was a friendship that was seen as maybe a little too close, but once you found your soulmate, there were no boundaries anymore. At least that was how Y/N and Nathan saw it. Besides, there was a sense of bond between them that only people identifying as queer could understand. Though neither of them had known at the age of seven when they met that they would grow up to identify as gay and bisexual, they knew now that their bodies, on some level, had known, and therefore drawn them to one another.

When you’re around other people from the LGBT community, there is not only a sense of understanding between you, but also undeniable, immeasurable comfort and support. No matter what. It’s a home, someplace to be completely you, without feeling like you need to tone it down or be ashamed, something the outer world sometimes could make you think you needed to. Y/N was therefore incredibly happy that her, as a bisexual, had found Nathan, who was himself with his whole heart, and who encouraged her to be the same.

“You ready to go to uni?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah, I’ll just change into a tee shirt.”

Nathan let go of her and followed her into her room.

Having always been plus size, Y/N broke a sweat rather easily. She therefore knew that she might freeze a bit in the beginning, but if her and Nathan were supposed to walk up and down stairs at tube stations and walk indoors at Helmond, she would need to wear a tee shirt to cool herself down some.

She took her jumper off, lobbing it on the still empty bed before she opened her bag filled with tops. She dragged a tee shirt out at random, taking a look at the black tee shirt with a white half moon embroidered onto the chest. Dragging it over her head, she walked to the full-body mirror that her mother had insisted on her bringing. She said there were rarely mirrors in student houses, and she was right. Looking at herself, Y/N ran a hand over her black denim shorts, studying how her faux leather sock boots went with the rest of her outfit. The chunky soles were amazing for walking, and she knew her feet would be aching by the time they got back home.

“Hmm,” Y/N said. “Might change into jeans, actually.”

“Why?” Nathan asked, furrowing his brows. “You look good in that.”

“I know, but the chafing.”

Nathan, who had heard this before, only nodded. With his noodle legs, he had never experienced chafing, and therefore did not say anything. Y/N knew this and appreciated him not trying to relate to her problems as a plus size woman. He could understand many of her problems, but never that.

Bringing her trouser bag forth, she got a pair of black jeans out, putting them on, making sure the sock boots were on the outside of the tight-fitted denim, and then the two of them were on their way. Y/N brought a tote bag, putting her phone, purse, and flat keys in it.

They arrived at Haggerston tube station on Lee Street, and once they were there, Nathan helped Y/N set up her Oyster card. The card would be an easier payment method for public transport around London, and though she could easily just tap her bank card, an Oyster card was, according to Nathan, a better way of doing it.

“You can use it for right about anything,” Nathan explained as they stood by the Overground platform, waiting for the Crystal Palace / New Cross / West Croydon train to arrive. “We’re talking Underground, Overground, Tramlink, all buses, River Services, you name it.”

“You always take the tube to uni.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Nate, you literally send a snapchat every single day before you go to uni of you sitting on the Overground.”

Nathan tutted, shaking his head. “I also walk.”

“When?”

“Blimey, I can walk. I do have legs, have you seen them?”

“Pretty hard to miss when they take up 80% of your body.”

Nathan gasped, nudging Y/N before the two of them laughed. The train arrived, and they got onboard, sitting down on one of them orange seats along the walls. They got off at Whitechapel, weaving past people to get to the Underground this time. They took an escalator down to the District and Hammersmith & City lines, Y/N following Nathan as he made a right turn for the Eastbound route.

“I know that exact walk, from the Overground to the District Line, like the back of my hand,” Nathan said, grinning proudly as they stepped aboard the train, holding onto the pole in between two doors. The doors closed, and Y/N had to hold on tight as not to faceplant onto the tube floor. That would not have been an ideal way of starting her conversion into a proper Londoner.

“Thought you said you walked to uni as well.”

“Well, I still do!”

“Alright.” Y/N nodded. “When’re we getting off?”

“Stepney Green.”

“This is Stepney Green. Change here for Hammersmith & City-“

Y/N raised her eyebrows at Nathan. “Really? Not even one stop?”

“Leave off, you hag.”

“Please, mind the gap between the train and the platform edge.”

The two walked up to the surface again and started on their ten-minute walk to Helmond from there. Y/N thought it would take them longer to get there considering she was a slow walker, something Nathan always had to consider when walking around with her, but it did not. The lack of her parents’ presence still hung in the air around her, it was still thick as fog, and she knew the longing for their closeness would not clear away within the next few days, but the moment she set her eyes on her University, she forgot about everything for just a little bit.

Helmond, University of London rose up before them in beautiful red and white bricks, shining in the late September sun like a lone castle in the middle of a vast and dark forest. It felt like Y/N had been without food and water for days, and the sign of the castle, the sign of life, brought a new sense of meaning to her. The massive University took up an entire 175-acre rectangle in London, enrolling a total of 20 thousand students, and being the second biggest London University for that reason alone, only barely beaten by Battersea, University of London, who hosted 35 thousand. Regardless, Helmond was the oldest uni in London, the first one to be established in the capital in 1817. Y/N felt very small looking at it, even though it wasn’t a particularly tall building, but she knew how big it was from the Open Day she had spent walking around campus grounds with her parents.

Nathan led Y/N over to the stairs and the two walked on in. It was like stepping right into a Renaissance painting. The ceilings were tall and vaulted, grand pillars against the walls up and down the halls. This hall was white, but Y/N knew that in other places in Helmond, the ceilings were painted, making it look like a sort of Versailles rip-off.

Immediately as you walked in, you stepped into the entry hall that was filled with first years trying to find their way around the uni. Right ahead was the reception area and a statue of Victor Helmond, the founder of the school and the first headmaster. To Y/N, he looked right about just like those old statues from the 1800s did, he was no different with his medium height, messy hair, and beard. Through the tall French windows behind the reception and statue, Y/N glimpsed one of the two massive courtyards in the middle of the University.

The uni was built around two quads, separating them was another quad just behind a red and white brick bridge, making it easier for students to get to lectures on time instead of walking their way through the long hallways, past lecture halls, cafeteria, and shops. Y/N could envision herself walking that bridge quite a few times over the next few years. There was another statue in the middle of the courtyard Y/N could see now, red and white tiled paths leading up to the fountain it stood on from each of the four walls facing it. The other courtyard was a replica of this one, only the statue was different. The one Y/N could see was Victor Helmond’s wife, Maud, and she knew that in the other courtyard, there was a statue of Queen Victoria. She had been told all of this on her Open Day months ago.

People were sitting in the grass of the quads, either with books in their hands or surrounded by friends. No one looked to have a care in the world, not even another oncoming year at uni. Y/N wished she could be as relaxed as them, and told herself that at one point, when she felt more at home here, she would.

“Coming?” Nathan asked after a little while, walking backwards while keeping his eyes on Y/N.

“Yeah.”

She followed him and the two walked further down the hall where there was a queue. Nathan stopped there and smiled at Y/N, nodding in the direction of the open door.

“Won’t be too long, there are tons of student representatives standing there, so it’ll take us ten minutes,” Nathan explained.

And he was right, it did not take them long to get to the front of the queue. They were stood in what Y/N could only assume to be a room specifically used for meetings. The table was fixed to look like a horse shoe, right about ten student representatives standing there, helping to register those that were there to start their first year.

“Next!” a woman called, and with one last look at Nathan, Y/N walked in her direction, giving her, what she hoped to be, a friendly smile as she approached.

“What’s your surname?” the student representative asked.

“Montes.”

She looked behind her, taking some time to find a M. She walked up and down the row of tables behind her, but once she finally came back to Y/N, she placed a manila folder on the table in front of her.

“Y/N Montes, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Studying English Literature?”

“Yup.”

“Brilliant,” the woman said, bending down to retrieve something more Y/N had to bring with her. “Just sign your name, date of birth, and the student halls you’re living in on the paper in front of you, please.”

“I don’t live in halls.”

“Ah, well, then you just write your address down. The uni just wants to know where you live, really. Especially if you’ve moved here to attend uni.”

Y/N nodded, taking the pen laid before her and writing under Jack Williams that had been before her.

“English Lit?”

After only having signed her name, Y/N looked up at the girl to her left who had just talked. She was looking straight at Y/N with a small smile on her face.

“I’m doing English Lit, too,” the girl said, her smile growing.

Y/N smiled back. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she blonde said, grinning now. “I’m Chloe.”

“Y/N.”

Chloe made a small bow. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And yours.” Y/N cursed herself for not being funnier. This girl would not want to be her friend if she wasn’t funny.

“Not to be like this,” the bloke helping Chloe out said. “But could you do this outside? We need to register more people.”

“Of course,” Chloe said, sounding a little too charming for her own good. She glanced back at Y/N, hugging her manila folder to her chest. “See you around, Y/N.”

“And you.”

Y/N’s entire chest burst with a sort of contentment only strange encounters could bring forth. It was a sort of reminder that Y/N was appreciated and seen by someone she barely knew; someone she appreciated and saw in return. Knowing that, even though they might not stay friends for their entire time at uni, they would at least lean on each other as lectures began. She could find Chloe and sit down next to her, and it would not be weird.

“Wicked,” Nathan said as Y/N came walking in his direction with the Helmond folder in her hands. “Now, let’s go for dinner. I’m famished.”

And so they did. They stopped by a pub on the way home, staying there for two hours just talking, eating and drinking. It was nice to finally be with Nathan again. He had been in London for well over a month, and as much as Y/N wanted to come down there, she needed all those hours of work to earn money for uni. New Look did not pay well, but at least she had a bit of money to use right off the bat. She’d need a new job, though. And fast.

This time around they walked back to the flat, taking the hour it took to just take in the stroll that Y/N knew she would take more than she would take the tube. There was just a lot to look at, and no hills, meaning that the stroll would not kill her. Another bonus was the time she would get to spend just listening to music, something she adored. Once again, she completely forgot about her parents and them leaving, until they reached the flat an hour later. Remembering brought a white-hot ball of aching to Y/N’s stomach, making it hard for her to swallow properly. She assumed it would be like this for a few days, if not weeks. She’d have to find her place and her people before the feeling of longing for her parents and life back home in Nottingham, would dissipate.

It was very dark in the flat when they finally got home around 8. Nathan stumbled a bit when they walked through the door, making Y/N laugh her ass off. Nathan only flipped her off before urging her to walk on in. She did, taking her shoes off and leaving them by the door. The light in the kitchen was on, and because Y/N assumed they must have left it on before they left, she did not bother to take a proper sweeping look over the room before reaching for the light switch. She stopped.

Nathan was busy closing and locking the front door, humming to that Tinie Tempah song that was always played in any sort of club setting. He must have been clubbing the night before, she reckoned. The rest of the flat was quiet. It was left in darkness. It was therefore weird to Y/N that she saw a hallucination in the middle of the lit-up kitchen. Would it not have been wiser of her brain, a bit scarier also perhaps, to put that hallucination in the corner of her dark room? Why was she seeing it right there, in the kitchen, in vivid detail? She wouldn’t remember ever having hallucinated… him. Her sister sometimes showed up, but Y/N never saw her in detail, only as she remembered her from that last time she saw her. But this… this was different. Y/N fucking hated it.

“Y/N,” he said, voice darker than she remembered it.

Blinking a few times to get the sight of him out of her head, she turned the lights off and turned to Nathan who struggled taking his shoes off, now humming to another song.

“Nate, literally shut up. Chainsmokers is rank.”

“Oi! Closer is a fucking belter!”

“Y/N, could you turn the lights back on, please?”

There it was again. His voice. She closed her eyes and shook her head forcefully, as she did to get rid of Marcela’s image. With a hand on the strap of her tote bag, Y/N started on her journey towards the stairs.

“Oi, Y/N, why’re you leaving the man in the dark?” Nathan asked, frowning over at Y/N as she stopped moving. What… What did Nathan just say? Had he seen Y/N’s hallucination as well? Were they both hallucinating? What had been in the two pints they’d just had? Nathan wasn’t drunk, was he?

She could tell by the yellow light that flooded into the hallway from the kitchen that Nathan had turned the lights back on. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder at Nathan, meeting his gaze right away. Nathan glanced into the kitchen, giving the hallucination a smile before asking, a little too casually, “You’re home early.”

“Work was slow. Let me off early so I could get a few extra hours sleep in before uni starts.”

Y/N shook her head again, walking over and putting a hand on Nathan’s shoulder to check if he was real and not just another hallucination. Nathan looked to Y/N right away, a deep furrow to his brows as Y/N felt his neck and cheek.

“Have you cracked your skull? What’re you doing?” Nathan asked.

“You can see him?” Y/N blinked at Nathan, nodding in the direction of the kitchen.

“Of course, I can see Harry. I’m not blind and I did develop the ability to sense another human beings’ presence when they’re in the same room as me. He’s standing right there, isn’t he?”

“No, he… he’s not…”

Y/N looked at the hallucination again then. Harry Styles. She had not thought about him in months, had not seen him in years. They had not been in each other’s proximity since he lived in Nottingham with his father three years ago. Had not spoken properly since that day in late August 2014 when they spent the night together. And there he was, standing in the kitchen of her new uni flat. She could not believe it. There were so many questions running through Y/N’s head in that second that she did not know which one to ask Nathan, who, it seemed, had no problem with Harry Styles being in their kitchen.

“Yes, he is,” Harry answered slowly, looking at Y/N with his eyebrows raised. They rose even higher up his forehead once he caught Nathan’s eye. “You didn’t tell her.”

“What?” Y/N looked at Nathan. “Didn’t tell me what?”

Nathan raised his shoulders in a shrug that Y/N knew was only done to buy her best friend some time. He pursed his lips, refusing to meet either of their eyes. “Might’ve slipped my mind.”

Harry cocked his head, putting the glass of milk he was holding back onto the counter. “Slipped… your mind?”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot?!”

“Y/N’s blind, you’re deaf. What’s next?”

“Nate, please, for the love of fuck, tell me you told her.”

“Nate?” That made Y/N retreat, two lines etched between her brows as she looked to Harry again, then back at Nathan. “You only let your mates call you that.”

Harry let out a short, high-pitched laugh. “Brilliant. You didn’t even tell her about me in general. What’s that about? You ashamed of me?”

“Oh, don’t take the piss, you wank-stain.” Nathan rolled his eyes. “I knew it would not go down very well.”

Harry crossed his arms. “And this way it would?”

“I was gonna sit her down and tell her, but I never got around to it. Alcohol called, she wanted us to have two pints at a pub.”

“Don’t blame this on a pint, you could’ve told her ages ago.”

“Can someone please,” Y/N called, making Nathan stop whatever he was about to say. “Tell me what the bloody hell is going on?”

Nathan and Harry looked at one another, exchanging a sort of glance Y/N could almost decipher, but in her confused state was too dizzy to try and comprehend. They stood like that for a few seconds, making grimaces at one another, having a telepathic argument that Y/N wanted in on.

“Hello?!” she called, making both boys jump and look at her again.

“Nathan,” Harry said, picking his glass of milk up again and taking a sip.

“Right,” Nathan sighed, turning his body in Y/N’s direction. “Y/N, Harry’s gonna be living with you for the rest of the year.”

Harry huffed. “Want me to move out next year, do you? Don’t wanna live with me our third year?”

“Oh, you know I do, but one year at a time, yeah? Don’t need to traumatise her more than necessary.”

Y/N did not know what to do. Out of all possible scenarios, out of all horrible happenings at University, she had not seen this one coming. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought this would ever happen. She quite frankly thought she had left Harry Styles behind her in her past, never to be in contact with or meet him again. But he was one of her new flatmates. She would be living with him for at least a year, two if she did not decide to move out. They had been each other’s first time, and then never spoke to each other again, despite everything else. That was three years ago, and now what? Were they supposed to talk it through? Were they supposed to ignore it? Ignore each other?

Y/N’s head was spinning, and it seemed the rest of the flat was spinning with her. Taking one last look at Harry and Nathan, she started walking in the direction of the stairs. Whatever the two were arguing about, they stopped the second they saw her strolling away.

“Oi, what’re you doing?” asked Nathan.

“I’m fucking going to my room to get away from you,” Y/N asked, voice razor sharp. “Unless you forgot to tell me there’s a corpse hidden inside my wardrobe?”

“It’s just 8. The night’s still young.”

“I don’t care.”

“Mate-“

“-Is there a corpse in my room? Or lice in my mattress? Or any other rather big news you’d like to tell me?”

Nathan must have known this would happen, but he still looked nervous as he shook his head, indicating that there was nothing else he was supposed to have told her but hadn’t.

“Good,” Y/N said. “I’ll deal with whatever kind of situation this is, tomorrow.” She paused. “Or maybe the day after that.” Another pause. “Fuck this. Fuck you.” She pointed at Nathan.

“I’m just trying to make us all be friends here,” he said. “Besides, don’t fuck me, I’m gay. And…” Nathan nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Harry stood. “You’ve already fucked him-“

“-I’ll literally murder you, Nathan,” Y/N hissed, and she swore she could hear a grunt of disapproval from Harry’s end as well, not having appreciated Nathan’s comment.

Without another look at them, she walked up the stairs and to her room, locking herself in there. It was then that she realised she hadn’t gotten her bed ready for the night. However, in her infuriated state, Y/N did not care. She got her pillow out from one of her bags along with her duvet, opening the windows to let some fresh air in and pulled the curtains close. She wasn’t really about to go to bed, but she knew that she would cry in not too long because she missed home, and her anger at Nathan and Harry did not help. If she got angry enough, she’d cry. Hard.

She could not believe this. It did not feel real. Ever since that night in August, she had not talked to Harry, and she did not think she ever would again. However, here she was, living in the same flat as him. It wasn’t as if their time together had been more awkward than they had anticipated, but the reason why she could not stand him was because, even though had kept every single other promise he’d ever made, he had not even done as much as look at her after they had sex. He had not called like he promised he would. Had not kept in contact with her after moving away. Had not been what he had promised he would be: different. A mate.

They had promised each other at the time that this would not be awkward, they would just get it over with, be awkward with one another, and then forget it ever happened. They would go back to being mates. But then Harry had shut her out, and they had not talked since. At times, when Y/N thought about this not too long after it had happened, she was scared that the entire reason why Harry had even been friendly in the first place was so they’d fuck and forget about one another. Sometimes it was easier to tell herself that than to remember all the lovely times. Y/N chose to repress those. He was not worth it.

She heard Nathan’s voice and then Harry’s along with footsteps. They were walking up the stairs, talking in hushed voices as if scared to wake anyone up. Y/N supposed it was the last flatmate that she had yet to meet, and considering how Nathan had not told her she would be living with Harry for the next year, she was scared to think who the last flatmate would be.

There was a knock at her door.

Y/N rubbed a hand over her face. “Drink piss.”

“Y/N, I just wanna talk.”

“No, Nathan.”

He jiggled the door handle. “Please.”

“Nathan, I need to be alone or else I’m sure I’m gonna fucking choke you till your eyes pop,” Y/N said. “Harry Styles, Nathan!”

“Yes, Y/N, I know!” Nathan said, sounding genuinely conflicted as well. “I know I should have told you he goes to Helmond! And that we’re mates here! I know!”

“Why didn’t you?”

“’Cause I knew you wouldn’t live with me if I told you,” Nathan admitted. “I had been looking forward to you coming here for so long, and Harry, Mason, and I kind of agreed to move in together. I told Harry, but he never had a problem with it, but I knew you would, because… well… everything that happened in Notts.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“But believe me that I didn’t do this as a way for you and Harry to, like, start talking again-“

“-‘Cause if you did-“

“-Oh, I know I would’ve been dead by now if that was the case, I know.” Nathan sighed. “Y/N, he’s not as much of a knob-“

“-He is a knobhead. Now, then, forever. Now, leave me alone.”

Nathan knew there was no way for him to make this any better. Once Y/N had made her mind up, it was hard to change her perspective on things. Getting her used to Harry, to living with him, to accepting this fate of hers, would take a very long fucking time.

Nathan said a small, “Later” from down the hall, and Harry replied with a “Have a good one” that seemed a bit closer somehow. Before she knew it, the door just beside hers opened, a small creak to it as Harry stepped in. It closed just after Nathan’s did, and Y/N heard the sound of footsteps from the room just beside hers. Not only was Harry Styles, the person who took her virginity, and Y/N Montes, the person who took Harry Styles’ virginity, living in the same flat. No, their rooms were also right next to one another. Brilliant. Fucking brilliant. Not only had she cried an abnormal amount today, sprained her ankle some on her walk home, and been uncharacteristically awkward when meeting new people, but she had also moved into the same house as her ex-friend.

Y/N turned her face, burying it into her pillow, and screamed.

Monday, 18 September 2017

There were people everywhere. Y/N was used to there being heaps of people everywhere she looked and did not mind crowds. She liked the company of people around her, the sounds of civilisation. In fact, it relaxed her much more than a calm countryside ever could. When walking through Canada Water, she did not mind people bumping into her or them walking right past her. It just showed signs of people and she loved that. She hated being alone, hated the sound of her own breathing and nothing to accompany her.

That was one of the reasons why she had looked forward to moving to London in the first place. She wanted the comfort of never being alone, of always having someone around, which she knew she would appreciate about London. Of course, she knew there were places in London she could go to be on her own, but she liked the idea of never, truly, being alone. The prospect of being alone, terrified her. She was never lonely, she had a lot of friends, she was close with her parents, but being alone, with no one else around, was something else entirely.

She did not feel lonely, even though she did not know any of the people around her at this precise moment in the tube station, she was surrounded by people and there was a comfort in that. Years & Years blasted from her earbuds and it was hard not to sing along when Desire went as hard as it did. So, instead of singing with her whole chest in the middle of the tube station, Y/N settled for miming the words with her mouth. She loved Years & Years more than she could articulate, so it was hard for her not to go crazy while listening to them. She could not wait for their second album to drop sometime next year.

Y/N walked towards the Eastbound platform as she reached the Jubilee line level. Nathan would be waiting for her at Ikea in Greenwich, as he had gone for a few other errands in the area, which ones Y/N did not know, but she had no problem meeting him there. However, she would have much more preferred it if he could have gone there with her, as she much more preferred to hang out with her friends than getting to places by herself. She just needed to take the Jubilee line to North Greenwich, and then take the 161 bus to Millennium Leisure Park East, and there Nathan would be waiting for her. That was all she had to do on her own, then she would have company.

She had not yet forgiven him for not telling her about Harry, but she didn’t have anyone else to take to Ikea, so she’d just have to ignore it until she had the energy to talk it through. Until then, she’d be passive aggressive and make Nathan feel bad for keeping it from her. Not the best way to go about it, she knew, but it would do for now.

The train arrived and Y/N waited patiently before she boarded it, letting the passengers that were already aboard get off before she started making her way on. Too anxious to sit down, Y/N took to standing by the pole just by the door she just entered, holding onto it with two other business men, neither who paid anyone on that train any attention as all of it were on the phone in front of them. Y/N reached for her phone then, typing out a message to Nathan that she was on her way. Or… at least she hoped she was.

“This is a Jubilee line train to Stratford; the next station is Canary Warf.”

Y/N let out a small sigh of relief, mentally patting herself on the back for managing to make it this far on her journey to Ikea Greenwich without getting completely lost. She felt her phone vibrate in her hand, and she immediately raised it to look at her new notification.

Nathan

Glad you’re finding your way around London, can be quite challenging

Nathan

Especially when you have a pea brain

Nathan

Like you do

Y/N snorted, started typing a text out right away as she held onto the blue pole for dear life.

Y/N

Scientists have been working for years to find a brain inside your gigantic head, seems it’s too small to be found, even under a magnifying glass

Because of poor reception, the text did not send, and the thought of being so low underground that she had trouble reaching her loved ones, suddenly scared her a bit. Y/N closed her phone and looked up at the tube map as the speaker overhead announced their arrival at Canary Wharf, people milling on and off the train.

Y/N saw something just before the door closed. She stopped breathing. It was only for a split-second, but she could swear she had seen something. She recognised the denim jacket, the hair, the smile. No matter the scenario, where she was, what was happening, Y/N would remember and make out her sister. She would recognise her anywhere. This was no different.

However, it had only been for a single second, not even that. The doors had closed before Y/N got to take a proper look. Right away, she closed her eyes tightly, willing her violently beating heart and pulse to slow down. It had just been a hallucination; it had not been real. I had just been a hallucination; it had not been real, and she continued to tell herself that until the train started driving away from the platform. Once she finally opened her eyes and looked out of the train windows, the darkness of the underground tunnels had surrounded them. Marcela was nowhere in sight.

Y/N leaned her forehead against the blue pole, feeling a slight layer of sweat over her cupid’s bow and forehead. The Marcela hallucination had affected her more than she thought it would have. Taking a deep breath, Y/N kept her eyes shut and her mind closed until she reached North Greenwich. Then, forcing the image of her sister away, Y/N walked off the train the second it stopped and almost ran for the exit and fresh air. Marcela was not alive; she had been dead for three years. She had been murdered three years ago. Neither hallucinations nor will would bring her back, it was time Y/N made her brain believe that as well.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 28th February, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets 🏛️ @sunflowerstache 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh 🏛️

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #1dff #super super super unsure about the cover art i'm most likely gonna change it #BUTTTTT HERE IT IS WOHOOOO

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emrys-rusts · 2 years

Text

Ooh I forgot but happy bday Dostoevsky!

I guess..

I mean, I wanted to draw something based on your books, because I adore your stories a lot but school has been giving me hell so I'm writing this thank you letter instead! I hope that's alright with you.

Where should I start...

The first time I opened one of your works was about 1 year ago, that is when I was 13-14. It was september or october, and I'll never forget the amazing time I had reading Crime and Punishment. To be honest, I didn't really know what I was getting into back then, I had just recently gotten into reading again.

I had been having a hard time. In first grade I practicly drowned myself in the fantasy genre, kept myself away from everyone, not much because I held bad opinions about them, but because I simply forgot and didn't know the world around me. I didn't want to know the world and wasn't aware of its horrors. I didn't know that making friends was a thing I didn't know how to do.

So when I got into second grade (11-12) my mind obviously went bonkers and I yearned for change and friends. I desperately tried to find that fantasy genre in the real world, and grew bitter when I couldn't find it. I blamed my issues on my passionate reading, and disregarded each of my books, completely ceasing to read much, if anything. I assume it was also because of burnout, for my grades started getting worse although they were never very good in the first place, but I digress.

My 12th to 13th year was spent in much emotion I won't elaborate on, and at the end of my third school year I yearned back the close connection I had reading. This somehow led me to a path of classical literature. I read horror, from horror to E.A.Poe (an amazing writer) and at last to you, well, Crime and Punishment.

At this point I was completely devastated at the sheer mysery around me. The world seemed to me a horrible place, as I had trouble comprehending the injustice many were supposed to face daily. Everyone seemed to me unreal, and no genuine feelings and intentions were to be found in anyone. The world seemed to me a horrible, horrible lie with lies and lies and lies atop oneanother, feeding us spoons of sugar that would not satisfy our hunger.

Reading Crime and Punishment for the first time filled me with a burning hope.

To me it was something that finally shed light to the truth, to honesty and God did I feel reasured and safe.

It felt more real to me than anything ever.

Tears of joy escaped me. I loved how I had found beauty in the honesty about how disgusting, desperate, shattered and all of that! All of that, the world was. There is no greater love than seeing life for what it is, and still loving it, loving many, many people. People amaze me now, each and every one of them, they fill me with joy. I feel more alive through them. They tend to be younger people though, I'm not going to lie. They are all genuine. I love genuine, your books are genuine.

Haha Im ranting again I just cant seem to find the words...I couldn't find the words when I first felt utter happiness at finishing Crime and Punishment and it seems I still cant now..

I can love the world. I think there is no greater gift than that.

I would also like to thank you for all my friends. I also thank you my friend for being my friends!

I've met them through your books you know? I made this silly discord server for people who like reading your books and we have you rolling in your grave at all times-

Those friends are the world to me. I think they are the most beautiful people to ever exist and give me as much base of reality as your stories do.

What I'm trying to say is that ;

The world is a cruel place, yet I can love it despite that because there is

Much much love, and beauty, and the ugly is perfect too. I can now love the world with knowing the truth and I live without fear. It puts me at peace.

So thank you dussy! Also I love the brothers Karamazov a lot <33 lots to brainrot about don't mind me crying at almost 1 am Im going to the dentist tomorrow anyway HA FUCK YOU SCHOOL

Please deliver us those missing alyosha and pavel interactions I know the drafts are somewhere-

My friend Vanya has his own bday tomorrow! Please wish happy bday back they deserve it :>

#lmao why did I write this #noone actually has to read this pls its just me ranting because I cant sleep and it calms me down or idkdikd #these books just mean a lot to me idk how to describe it I dont feel like I put my feelings into words well #deal with it #love ya #idk #classical literature #fyodor dostoevsky #russian literature #the brothers karamazov #crime and punishment #the idiot #demons

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Sorry, it’s reserved

Honestly neither Marinette nor Chloe had been surprised when Bustier caved to Alya’s insistent requests that the two girls not be allowed to go on the class trip to New York City. Lila had been subtly hinting about how much friendly better thing would be if they weren’t there.

Mostly because just two weeks ago, Marinette had presented her class trip idea presentation; complete with a potential itinerary, pictures of the grand hotel could stay at, the fantastic tours they could go on, and exciting places they could eat. The class had been suitable wow’d.

What was surprising was when, after Bustier announced in front of the class that Marinette and Chloe couldn’t go to New York much to the smug faces of the students, Adrien said, “Cool. Then I’ll skip the class trip too.” He then turned to his two best friends. “What do you two want to do instead?” Adrien was sick and tired of the other students in the class. He had been trying to get them to believe Lila was a liar for months but no one, not even Nino, would listen to him.

Instead, they turned on the two most awesome girls in the class. Well, Adrien wasn’t going to deal with it anymore.

The look of horror on Lila’s face was priceless. However, there was no backtracking now. The dream of a romantic trip to New York, walking hand in hand with Adrien, burst into flames and was now nothing more than ashes.

“Yeah, I won’t go either,” Nathaniel stated. “Doesn’t seem fair. Marinette worked really hard on the idea for the trip.” He never bought Lila’s crap, and he never understood how anyone else did.

Marinette smirked, “I’m up for whatever.” She shrugged. “I’m actually looking forward to now having to organize the trip. Or fundraise for it. And to think I was going to start working this weekend.” The bluenette made sure to look directly at Bustier and Alya, her ex-friend when she said this. “Its only October but believe me, you’ll want to start making reservations fast. Nothing was done but the presentation; which you can have by the way. And just a reminder, a lot of places do require a down payment. Also, don’t forget approval from the school board.”

“Which takes like three months btw,” Chloe said with a vicious smile on her face. She was the last class president. She knew exactly how hard getting a fabulous trip approved of was. “Paperwork has to be filled out in triplicates and if you mess up on even one form, they’ll make you fill out the entire thing again.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. “I just let Daddy know that he won’t have to make his annual donation this year for the trip. If you don’t want us there you obviously don’t need it. And to think, he usually funds thirty percent of it. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

By the looks on the other students’ faces, it was clear that they didn’t know that. However, pride wouldn’t let them back down. Besides, Alya thought, they had the moral high ground. Who wanted to hang with bullies anyway?

To the other students’ credit, they did manage to raise enough money for the trip to New York. Granted, it wasn’t nearly as much as they usually did. Alya, the new class president, also forgot to make most of the reservations until the last minute, and it was hard to find a fancy hotel willing to accommodate an entire class of rowdy teenagers at the last minute. So they would stay at a Holiday Inn just outside of New York City. The glasses-wearing girl wished Lila had been so busy with her charity work so she would’ve had time to help and maybe they could’ve gotten a much better trip.

By the end, the class trip the class would be getting wasn’t nearly as were or amazing as the one Marinette had presented at the beginning of the year. However, most were just happy to be going to New York.

Lila shot four exiled students a victorious look as she bragged about all the things and people she’d get to see in New York. She had spent months trying to get Adrien to agree to go on the trip but he wouldn’t budge.

She sighed dramatically, “I love New York. The only bad part are the superheroes. Last time I was there Robin and Speedy practically got into a fistfight over who’d take me on a date. I hate getting in the way of friendships.” Marinette snorted. “We leave for New York in three weeks. What will you three be doing then?”

“Waiting for a house to fall on you,” Marinette said easily.

Adrien chuckled, “We leave for L.A in two days.”

That got the classes’ attention.

“Sorry, What?” Alya asked; suddenly getting a bad feeling in her stomach.

Chloe leaned back in her seat, “L.A. It was my idea. We decided since we couldn’t go on your trip we’d go on our own. Let's see… our first stop in L.A, we’ll be there for about a week; we’ll tour some movie studios, go on set for the Star Trek movie that filming. Attending the movie premiere of the newest Marvel movie. Then leave for Indio; it's not that far from L.A, I think. But who cares. We have to be at Coachella, even if only for two days. Then we go to Metropolis. And I can’t remember… Marinette what did you plan for us to do? It was her idea to go there.” She told the class who had looks of sheer dismay on their faces that got worse and worse as the four described the trip.

Marinette smiled, “Tour of LexCorp, a tour of Daily Planet, reservations for the grand opening of Gordon Ramsey’s new restaurant, we got backstage passes for a 5 seconds of Summer concert-” She was cut off

“Why couldn’t we go see Selena Gomez again?” Adrien frowned.

Marinette rolled her eyes, “Because you couldn’t beat Chloe in an arm-wrestling contest.”

“She is freakishly strong,” Adrien protested. “And she plays mind games!”

Chloe blew a raspberry at the other blond.

“We’ll be in Metropolis for about a week,” Marinette continued, as her two friends bickered and Adrien declared he would have his vengeance. “Then Adrien got to pick where we next.”

“Disney World!” The blond shouted. It was his biggest childhood dream and it was becoming a reality. “We’re going to Florida to Disney World, and then Universal Studios; where we’ll get to see the Magical World of Harry Potter.”

“Geek!” Chloe sniped.

“Slytherin!” Adrien hissed back at her.

“And proud,” Chloe crossed her arms. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Hufflepuff?” She said the Hogwarts’ house like it was a dirty word. “Most notable thing a Hufflepuff ever did was die. And then somehow ended up in Twilight.”

Adrien stood up angrily, “You take that back!”

“Make me!”

Adrien looked at Nathaniel, “Ravenclaw, do something!” Their two houses went together like PB&J.

Nathaniel put down his pencil, “No.” And went back to writing. “Make the Gryffindor do it!” He motioned to Marinette.

Marinette just looked up at the ceiling, praying to gods’ for patience.

Adrien, she was suddenly reminded, was loyal enough to help hide a body.

Nathaniel was smart enough to have already come up with an alibi.

Chloe as conning enough to ensure they got away it, after goading Marinette into doing it in the first place.

Marinette would eventually snap and kill Lila. She would need them. “We’ll be in Florida for about four days; enough to see both amusement parks. Then all four of us agreed to go to New York next. First, stop Gotham; we’ll be touring Wayne Industries and attending one of the Wayne family annual galas.”

“Then we go directly to New York City,” Chloe said examining her nails. “Mama arranged us a tour of Vogue and Mode. We’ll be going to a few of the runways for Fashion Week. Adrien’s father arranged for us to go see Hamilton on Broadway.”

It had taken a lot of time, effort, threats of going to the police, press, and CPS regarding child labor laws broken concerning Adrien to get Gabriel Agreste to agree to let his son go on the trip (as well as allow him to actually have a childhood). But there had been several conditions; mostly to do with security and proper supervision; which all the parents had, though not to Gabriel’s extremeness.

Still, the four kids agreed to the terms.

“We’re going to a baseball game!” Adrien added excitedly. “A real one. I’m going to eat a hot dog the size of my arm. And cotton candy the size of my head.”

Marinette nodded slowly, already picturing herself patting Adrien’s back as he whined about as stomach ache from eating too much.

Chloe frown, picturing the same. She had lost a pair of Jimmy Choos after one disastrous trip to the carnival that involved way too much greasy food and rollercoaster with two loops. She shook the nightmarish memory away, “Thanks to Marinette, we’ll be touring the Stark Industries and the Avengers tower. All the hotels we’ll be staying at are 5 stars. Also, we’re going to three, three Michelin star restaurants. I can imagine what would’ve happened if she had made the reservations late. We might have ended up in some god awful Inn.”

“Come to think of it,” Marinette paused thoughtfully, “We should get to New York about the same time you do. What are your plans? No! Don’t tell me. I’m sure they’re amazing and I don’t want to be jealous. I mean you kicked us off the trip so you had to have something out of this world lined up.”

Alya’s mouth was dry. She tried to come up with something to say; something to brag about but she knew that come September she’d have to pony up the pics. Because Pics or it didn’t happen. Chloe was active on social media; she’d be updating on a daily basis and scooping out her competition. She’d know instantly if they were lying and they’d never live it down.

Lila fought the urge to throw the biggest tantrum of her life. At the beginning of the year, after Marinette’s trip presentation, she thought getting the bluenette and Blondie off the trip was the perfect plan; even when Adrien said he wouldn’t go. However, it was soon clear that Alya and the other students were in way over their hands. The dream trip that Marinette had spun them would be realized as only a dream as it was clear they wouldn’t manage it without Marinette’s organizational skills and Chloe’s funding.

The trip they got was the standard tourist one. A look around the city, the statue of liberty, Time Square, and a museum or two. Honestly, Lila took better trips with her grandmother.

Maybe there was still a way to save things…

“You know,” Lila smiled sweetly. “Since we’re all going to be in New York anyway, we should do everything together-“

“Can’t,” Marinette stated firmly. “Reservations are reservations for a reason. Tickets were bought. You know how it is.”

Bustier frowned. This had ended the way she thought it would. When Alya and the other students beseeched her to disallow Marinette and Chloe from the school trip, she thought it was for the best. Chloe had always had a hostile attitude that Marinette seemed to have developed as well. It left the rest of the class with negative energy that wasn’t helpful for nurturing their growth.

However, she couldn’t have predicted just how badly things would go. Alya had come crying to her several times about having to fill out and re-fill out multiple forms for the school board. She seemed to get something wrong every time.

The children could barely raise enough money for the trip. And it wasn’t nearly as wonderful as the one Marinette had come up with at the beginning of the year. Still, they were going to New York which was what counted. Most classes wouldn’t even have gotten that far, She thought smugly. It would be a good trip. (Caline had dreamed about accidentally running into Steve Rogers or Thor and being swept off her feet. And she thought that dream wouldn’t even be possible if she was too busy trying to reign in her to most troublesome students which were one of her reason her telling the two they couldn’t go.) However, even that trip paled in comparison to the one the bluenette had planned for her and her two friends. 5-star hotels, trips to galas, fashion week, going to the Avengers Towers, possibly meeting Captain America, Thor, and the rest! It all sounded too good to be true.

“There must be something you can do,” Bustier said. “It would be nice if all my students were together.”

The other students looked at the tour with hope clear in their eyes.

Adrien, Marinette, and Chloe just looked at the teacher like she was dumb. Each fought the urge to remind the teacher that she was just fine with the three not going less than ten minutes ago.

Adrien rolled his eyes, “There isn’t. Everything was bought and paid for. They are only expecting four kids which is why we get to go to so many places. Turns out, not many hotels and restaurants want to deal with a bunch of teens at the last minute.”

Marinette nodded, “Besides you wouldn’t want us crashing your trip anyway. We’d hate to get in the way. We know you guys wanted a drama-free trip.” She through the term back in their faces. “But I wouldn’t mind meeting up one day. You guys are doing time square right. Let us know when and we’ll see if we can do it the same day.”

“If we can fit in our schedules,” Chloe snapped. “It's pretty packed.”

“Not as packed as theirs, I’m sure,” Marinette smiled kindly, though inside she was doing a victory dance worthy of a champion. “I can’t wait to see the pictures.”

The four left that Friday. By Sunday, the social medias were filled with dozens of pictures of beautiful hotel rooms. The next three weeks were the worst in the class’s entire lives. The other students in the class tried their best not to look but it was hard. Particularly when the picture of Marinette, Adrien, and Chloe on the red carpet started to make waves. Pictures of the four meeting various celebrities like Lex Luther and Chris Pine, superheroes like Superman and Batman, of them at Disney World and Coachella had left more than a bit of envy in their hearts.

Their own trip had started out terribly. Alya hadn’t book enough rooms so they had to triple bunk, with some people having to sleep on a cot. And it turned out that the only tours she had secured was to Elis Island and the New York Art Museum; nothing nearly as exciting as they hoped. So they had been mostly left on their own for sight-seeing.

Still, it wasn’t a terrible trip. They ate great good and saw the normal New York tourist attractions.

However, when the time came for them to go to Time Square and meet up with Adrien, Alya, Chloe, and Marinette, Bustier was ready to pull her hair out.

Bustier never had trouble on any of the previous trips, as they were always organized to the minute, but this one had so much free time the kids didn’t know what to do with themselves which resulted in chaos. And being threatened with being kicked out of the hotel. She didn’t understand what was different. The students were usually so well behaved.

Sure on previous trips, there had been two more chaperones but Bustier always thought they were unnecessary. Her students were the best and most well behaved in school for the most part. She was positive that they only needed their teacher to watch out for them.

She was wrong.

And Bustier was very surprised to see Mendeleiev there with her four wayward students, looking very much like the Cat that got the Canary.

“Demetria,” Bustier greeted politely. “What are you doing here?”

Mendeleev didn’t bother to hide her smirk. “I was invited as a chaperone. It just me and Gorilla. Between the two of us we keep the delinquents in check,” She said Delinquents at the four who playfully hissed at her. Each of the four wore a black shirt with a different Hogwarts house on it.“Best decision I ever made. I was reluctant at first as it’s not school-related and I wouldn’t be paid for it. But Agreste and Bourgeois are paying me nine times my usual amount an hour to watch the kids like a hawk. Luckily their goods kids. What about you? How is your class trip going?”

Bustier forced herself to smile, and not bite out angrily that it was driving her insane. The kids were driving her completely up the wall. And Caline was more than a little aware of how amazing her four students trip was and to think Mendeleiev had gotten to do it all with them made her blood boil and her eyes practically turn green with jealousy. “Extremely well. We are having… the time of our lives.”

“I’m sure,” Mendeleiev said. She and the rest of the teachers had never been happy with how Bustier ran her class. Or just how much she and Damocles got away with. However, it didn’t matter. Come September, things would change. Damocles had already gotten fired for taking bribes, breaking procedure, and being a complete idiot.

Bustier, while technically, hadn’t done anything wrong would still have to listen to the school board tell her everything that was wrong with her class. And there was a lot.

“Have you gone to the Avengers tower yet?” Bustier asked, not subtly at all. She still hoped that if there was time she and her class could tag along.

“We have,” Mendeleiev told her, bursting the bubble of hope that had sprung in Caline. “It was quite wonderful. I had a wonderful debate with Doctor Banner; it turns out he’s read several of my papers and me, his. While the kids are at the baseball game tomorrow, the two of us will be having a lunch date and going over our scientific hypothesis tomorrow.”

“Get it, Ms. Mendeleiev,” Chloe laughed.

Mendeleiev shot her a stern look but her mouth twitched as she fought a smile.

“Perhaps my class could go with?”

“Sorry, we have a reserved seats.”

Envy flared in Caline Bustier more than ever before in her entire life. If they had been still in Paris, Hawkmoth would’ve had a field day. “Oh but what about watching the kids. Won’t they need you? What would their parents say about this?” A vicious smirk appeared on Bustier’s face. She always thought Mendeleiev needed to be knocked down a peg or two.

Mendeleiev didn’t bat an eye, “Already covered. Already cleared with their parents. After all who’s going to say no to Captain America and Iron Man babysitting their kids. Steve hadn’t been to a game a while and he really wanted to take his son Peter and the rest of Tony’s interns. The kids should have a blast.”

Adrien shot a bright smile at his bodyguard, “Natasha is going too! I still don’t understand how you two know each other.”

Gorilla’s face burned a red color but he remained silent. He wore the bright yellow and black Hufflepuff scarf Adrien had begged him to wear as a show of support, particularly when Mendeleiev revealed herself to be a Ravenclaw (So did Bruce Banner). Captain America and the Winter Soldier high-fived Marinette over being Gryffindors. And Pepper Potts, Iron Man, and the Black Widow introduced themselves as Slytherin alumni.

Where was the Hufflepuff love?

Adrien had looked at Hawkeye with hope but Clint had shrugged and said, “Gryffindor.”

The blond boy huffed and pouted (the pout was how he got Gorilla to wear the scarf). He bet Thor was a Hufflepuff.

The rest of Bustier’s class still steer clear away from the four; out of pride and envy. Lila had attempted to go near Adrien but was stopped by Alya who didn’t want to risk her bestie getting bullied by the meanest girls in school.

Alya had decided after seeing the pictures of the four with Superman, The Avengers, Batman, and THE LOIS LANE that life just wasn’t fair. If it was Marinette and Chloe (Maybe even Nathaniel) would be stuck in Paris, crying their eyes out over not being allowed on the trip. It was what they deserved for being such bullies.

The preplanned tour of Times Square, which was mostly just the kids walking around and awing at the pretty lights. It was actually a bit boring, once the excitement wore off. They found themselves on the highest building there, looking over New York City in its entirety, along with a bunch of other tourists.

Suddenly all the electronic billboards and every ounce of electricity turned off. Crowds up people looked around confused.

The giant monitors blurred and a face appeared, “Greetings citizens of New York, I. AM. THE. Electrocutioner!” Lights were centered on the highest building there, and it was clear the villain stood on top of the building. The building of Bustier’s class was on.

One thought echoed in the minds of each Parisian citizen, “Fuck.”

Before any of the Paris heroes’ could figure out if they should act or not, another team of heroes arrived.

The evil-doer had with him a dozen or so henchmen, each more menacing the last.

The sight of Kid Flash zooming up the side of the building was incredible. Seeing Young Justice kick butt left Marinette a little breathless.

Was this what it was like, she wondered, seeing Ladybug fight.

When some of the henchmen were ordered to take hostages; Marinette, Chloe, Nathaniel, Adrien, Gorilla, and Mendeleiev fighting back much to the shock of Bustier and her class. Chloe rolled her eyes as she, and the other three pulled out miniature pens from their pockets; did they really not know how often New York is attacked by Super Villians. Seriously.

With a click of the button, the pen turns into a long whip. Chloe refused to be taken without a fight. Her and Marinette, who now wielded a fighting staff, nodded at each other. The blonde snorted when she looked at Adrien, “A shield, really?”

“I don’t want to hurt people too much,” Adrien defended.

“This is why you’re a Hufflepuff.”

Nathaniel spun his trident around. It worked like a Taser and could shock people. Luckily only the villain had electricity powers.

Marinette didn’t know how it happened but suddenly she was fighting back to back with Robin.

“Nice moves,” Robin said after Marinette knocked out a henchman with a high kick. He knocked out a henchman with his staff.

“Not too bad yourself.”

Nathaniel nearly had a heart attack when Aqualad jumped in to help him protect several tourists. When biggest henchmen came rushing at him, the redhead fired up his trident and within seconds the underling was down for the count.

Kaldur paused, “…Can I borrow that?”

Chloe used the whip with ease and grace. She has been practicing with it ever since she saw Shadow Hunters for the first time. Isabelle Lightwood was an icon.

The blonde didn’t know how it happened. But one minute she was fighting off two lame minions then she saw an Arrow guy fighting and then falling off the roof, and the next thing she knows she’s jumping after him. Then they both were dangling off the roof with only Chloe’s whip for support.

“You call this a rescue?” Arrow guy snorted.

“You call yourself a hero?” Chloe snapped.

“Meow!”

Chloe didn’t see how he did it but one moment she was hanging there; the next Arrow guy was swinging her up back onto the roof.

He smirked at her, “You’re a pretty one.”

She waved him off, “Oh go save someone!”

When Superboy crashed down next to him after taking a brutal hit, Adrien gripped his shield and stood in front of him. Adrien was able to block most of the attempts of the underlings to reach the boy of steel. But it wasn’t long until they had them surrounded. Just when Adrien thought he was a goner, red lasers blasted the henchman back.

Superboy stood up, “Thanks for the assist.” He smiled at the blond boy. “Nice shield.”

Gorilla and Mendeleiev handled their own really well. After seeing Gorilla fight, Adrien started to have some serious suspicions about just how his bodyguard knew the Black Widow.

When the fight was over, and the villains detained, the small group stood with the rest of the civilians until the all-clear was given.

The Bustier and her class stared in awe as the members of Young Justice walked over to the six with large smiles. The heroes didn’t even spare the class a glance. Not even when Alya pushed Lila to the front but Robin and Arsenal never even noticed her.

Dick Grayson, Robin, smiled at the pretty bluenette with bluest eyes he’d ever seen and did his best to ignore Batman in his ear about bringing in the Heroes Ladybug, Chat Noir, Queen Bee, and Bright Roar in to Watch Tower stat. He knew all about Ladybug and, thanks to Batman, knew her civilian identity. But to see her in person was a whole different experience.

No, there was a time and place for everything. And right now the time was to flirt with the Gorgeous Superhero who a skintight red suit.

“You’re amazing,” He told her honestly. “What are you doing for the rest of my life?”

“I swear to god if you propose!” Batman hissed in his ear.

Marinette blushed a bright red.

Kaldur handed the trident back to Nathaniel, “This is an amazing weapon. You use it well.” He told the redhead. This must be the new Hero Bright Roar “I wish for one just like it.”

Nathaniel flushed but handed the weapon back to Kaldur, “Keep it. I’m not that good with it.”

Kaldur smiled, “Then perhaps you will let me teach you one day. One on one sessions.”

“Really Kaldur,” Aquaman chastised. “This is a mission, not a dating show.”

Aqualad ignored him.

Superboy nodded at Adrien, “You’re good,” he told the smaller blond boy. Though from the reports he read about Chat Noir, he was only a year younger than him. “Cool shirt by the way. It's nice to meet a fellow Hufflepuff.” He said and then suddenly his arms were full of a blond boy thanking him for existing.

“Breathe,” Superman chuckled in his ear. “Just breathe, Connor.”

“For such good finders, we’re so hard to find,” Adrien said. “I could kiss you!”

Superboy turned the brightest shade of red anyone had ever seen.

Arsenal eyed the hot blond girl, “At least you know how to stay out of the way.”

Chloe glared at him, “Next time, I’ll just let you die.”

“Then who be the man of your dreams.”

“Freddie Kruger would probably take his job back,” Chloe said with a hand on her hip. “Though his face isn’t as terrifying as yours.”

“That girl will eat you alive,” Oliver warned in his ear.

“So you admit you dream about me,” Roy stepped forward.

Chloe huffed, “Get real!”

“Hey,” Alya called. “Robin, Speedy, don’t you want to say hi to Lila Rossi.” She motioned to the Italian girl who had gone pale.

“It’s Arsenal now,” Roy corrected.

Dick nodded, “And who’s Lila?”

Marinette smiled, “Oh I’d totally marry you now!”

Robin grinned and raised his arms in victory.

Batman cursed in his ear.

Robin, Arsenal, Aqualad, and Superboy kept their attention on the on the four. No matter how much their superhero mentors protested. No matter how much Bustier’s tried to intervene.

No, their attentions’ were reserved

#ml fic #ml salt #class salt #Young Justice #Marienette Dupain Cheng #Marinette deserves better #adrien deserves better

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eirichele · 4 years

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a VERY in depth look at fire emblem: three houses and its grooming problem

OR: how this game managed to make an accurate portrayal of grooming and exactly how it made it palatable

(warning: really long. though to be fair, the length is mostly screenshots. you can also read this in google docs)

***

SO i’ve been wanting to write something Formal and In Depth for a while, because this game’s reception has been a nightmare for me and other csa victims and quarantine hit, so i finally had time. i just really wanted to get all my thoughts in one place before i move on from 3h. i’m basically done talking about this after this one because... idk what else i could say that hasn’t been said here, really. fe has history with this, and the in-game excuses ring hollow when we know the fe devs disregard csa victims at every turn while pandering to male gamers who love sexualised teenage girls.

long, long analysis under the cut:

Some previous context: Fire Emblem games have a history of normalising harmful romances

It’s understandable for many to not know the history of the series since 3H was insanely successful and it brought a lot of new fans. Fire Emblem has always been a character driven game where making your units bond was encouraged both for gameplay and story reasons. Some end in special romantic epilogues, and some of those relationships were concerning to say the least: Sylvia, 14 years old, can marry every eligible man in Genealogy of the Holy War, Jill from Radiant Dawn, 18, can marry her father’s protegé who is 34. This is not a new phenomenon for the series, it just became more noticeable and malicious post-Awakening, because it became first person fanservice.

FE decided to rehaul the series sometime in 2011 by including dating sim elements, which made it explode in popularity. Avatars were introduced to represent the player in-game, allowing them to marry whoever they wanted. The first game to include a pseudo-dating sim was Awakening, released in 2012. The player can marry every named playable character, on top of the usual FE shipping mechanics . Donnel, Nowi and Ricken, all children, are part of your party. Nowi is a thousand year old dragon that looks like a child of 11-15. She loves playing, and throws tantrums, and overall acts very childishly, but the narrative insists that she’s really an adult feigning childishness.

In Fire Emblem lore, dragons are veeeery slow ageing people with the power to transform into dragons, which means they can be biologically still children even when they’re hundreds or thousands of years old. Tiki, another similar character, is considered a child in Shadow Dragon by her adult dragon family while explicitly being around Nowi’s age. Despite evidence to the contrary, Awakening treats Nowi like an adult who can marry. Fire Emblem had previously included many dragon child characters in the past, but none were romantic options for anyone, and they were considered a younger sibling of sorts. Nowi was a first in the series, and after her inclusion these romances became common with characters like Nyx in Fates and Flayn and Sothis in Three Houses. Worth noting is her design, which is incredibly sexualised. A (not so) fun fact is that the outfit designer of Awakening and Fates was none other than Three Houses’ future director, Toshiyuki Kusakihara:

Ricken and Donnel are just regular 13-15 year old boys. No magic. Other adult characters and your avatar just marry them, and it’s stated they will have children in the future. The next game, Fates, actually managed to outdo this somehow: Your pedophilic romance options are now five, and unlike Awakening’s avatar Robin, whose age was unknown and could potentially be portrayed in their mid-teens, Corrin canonically is in the 18-21 age range, making this unambiguous pedophilia. Fates is a very standout game when it comes to Fire Emblem’s worst parts: There’s no “children from the future” excuse for the avatar having children like in Awakening. The avatar impregnates all spouses (or gets pregnant) and has the child after an in-game time skip, which means you can canonically impregnate your approximately 15 year old sister in a Fire Emblem game. You really do not want to stan these devs.

pictured: definitely not 18, even if the english localization really tried to pull that.

Which is yet another thing in this game: Incest with adopted siblings is possible and even encouraged. Incest is constantly fetishized through the character of Camilla, who is an attractive and sexualized older sister obsessed with the main character. Another (not so) fun fact is that most characters will continue to call you ‘brother’ or ‘sister’ in the story even if you’re married because Fire Emblem rarely changes the story to fit with your marriage options. The most insidious thing about the incest and pedophilic couples in Fates is that they’re completely normalized. It’s not shown as abusive, and they look like normal couples that could even look cute out of context. They confess their love, tease each other, blush and have cutesy epilogues.

pictured: marrying your sibling and a literal child

All of this is to end with the conclusion that this is a constant pattern with Fire Emblem, especially the ones with marriage. Any potentially awful relationships portrayed are not outwardly abusive. You won’t catch Xander gaslighting Corrin, or anything. They’re a “cute” relationship that just happens to be incest. Their interactions are not outwardly unhealthy, and it’s tailor made for ‘’’harmless’’’ shipping, but in the end, it’s incest and pedophilia portrayed as a valid pairing that’s “healthy” by all means. It’s normalization of something that’s objectively horrifying to live through. As a CSA victim, Fates literally made me quit the franchise for all the years it was popular.

When Three Houses announced that it would take place in a school while you play a teacher, after seeing all of this play out all FE fans could feel was dread. When 3H announced even later that all romance would take place post-time skip everyone forgot about their reservations instantly— ignoring the fact that everyone being over 18 when marriage happens doesn’t absolve all potential problems with predatory writing. How you write a couple with an age gap is critical. Moving on with Actual Three Houses:

Byleth has a canon age unlike Corrin and Robin, but the game tries to hide it

Corrin and Robin were both avatars meant to be somewhat customized. Byleth cannot be customized. They have a set appearance and age. You can choose Byleth’s name, gender and birthday when you start up the game, but Byleth canonically cannot be born anywhere after September 20th 1159, their “canon” birthday, since their father states in his diary that they’re already alive. 3H starts in the year 1180, which makes Byleth 20 or already 21 depending on their chosen birthday.

All other Three Houses characters have their ages shown clearly in their unit menu, and all bios update accordingly when you learn new information, including yours. Byleth’s age is revealed in a cutscene, but despite this, the game tries to “hide” their age. This is all Byleth has in their bio even well into the endgame:

It’s presumably so the player can “headcanon” their age, as the player avatar, but they still have a canon age, because they’re not a customizable one. It’s a very odd design choice that makes no sense until you consider that the game is romantically pushing teenagers at you. Romanceable students range from 14 to 22 years old before the time skip, but the great majority are in the 15-18 range. Early on, when you introduce yourself to your students, they seem taken aback by how young you are and comment how you seem like you’re “their age.” This is your only dialogue option in response:

No sixteen year old has ever told a twenty/-one year old that they’re the same age, but this is anime high school dating sim logic. An addendum is that this game has incredibly shallow dialogue options to hide how linear it really is, and this is the first glaring instance. This comes up later on with the romance options—you have little to no options to reject a student’s advances. Boundaries as both a player and RPG protagonist are non-existent in this game.

pictured: “yes” and “sure why not” dialogue options to agreeing to meet with a student alone. linhardt just turned 17 last month

Byleth can flirt pre-time skip

Most of your units are students, thus all romance should in theory, stay in the war phase…. Which doesn’t happen at all. All the narrative framing of characters’ “closeness” and foreshadowing of romance are definitely a part of the school phase. The worst offender by far is an in-game event called the Goddess Tower, the school’s local romantic spot. It’s said in universe that a man and a woman who make a vow there on a specific night will stay together forever, and this is a prelude to the marriage scenes five years later, which will take place in that Tower. You can even pick who to bring with you to the Tower, and this is what Byleth says to themselves before the drop down menu shows up:

this is one of those lines that’s like semi-innocuous, since byleth is addressing the player here, but what the fuck is a teacher doing thinking about a student “that way”???? my girl doesn’t know there will be a 5 year time skip where they’re going to be legal she’s just saying this about a bunch of sixteen year olds.

The Goddess Tower itself is a mess of bungled flirting and unnatural romantic scenes, made all the worse by the fact that you can only trigger this scene with a student. Older characters like Seteth, Catherine and Shamir are locked out of the Goddess Tower. They can’t be picked from the menu, and if they’re your highest support, the game will default to the next highest supported student. Here’s some lines from Ingrid’s scene:

ingrid is 17 when this takes place. the youngest byleth possible is well over 21 and the oldest is turning 22 next month

Check out this post for more examples of the Goddess Tower. Byleth’s dialogue options here are right out of a god damn PSA about child safety. They genuinely come off as a huge creep here, especially “Just the two of us….” My dude.

Thankfully one of the few instances where you can turn the student down, but notable anyway. Dorothea’s C support, where you have the option of following her flirty lead, and her response will be the same regardless of your choice:

Another infamous bit of inappropriate flirting is Edelgard’s Japanese C1 support, which you’re likely to unlock before her 18th birthday in June because it’s her very first support:

This was thankfully removed in the English version (Though she still has the same flustered reaction), but the intentions are there. Curiously, I’ve seen many supporters of the Byleth/Edelgard ship say they were upset this was removed, while simultaneously denying the ship has any grooming connotations whatsoever— when an authority figure making ha ha, unless? 😳 sexual jokes in front of underage/barely legal kids to see their reaction is textbook grooming:

Once a trusting or special relationship is created, the offender may carefully test the victim’s reaction to sex. (x)

Not helping is the fact that Edelgard falling in love with Byleth during the school phase is practically canon judging by dialogue in CF of her missing you “more” than the others. Which leads to:

Some interactions pre-time skip resemble grooming tactics

In fans’ minds the lack of boundaries are somewhat mitigated by Byleth’s supposed good intentions, and it’s common to hear fans say Byleth obviously didn’t go to Garreg Mach intending to marry one of the kids they’re teaching because grooming must be malicious from the start. However, it’s well known that unlike premeditated abuse of younger kids, sexual abuse of older teens often happens by “accident”

In contrast, educators who teach at the late middle and high school level target victims in this age range. They might be outstanding teachers, although they may also be mediocre (Shakeshaft, 2003). Sexual abuse at this level may be less premeditated and planned and more often a result of bad judgment (Shakeshaft, 2004). (x)

In other words, by putting zero boundaries between teacher and students and enabling weird situations, which is 3H to a T. Many students flirt, but Byleth doesn’t say anything, or even flirts back.

Secondly, Byleth is like… barely a character, so this isn’t meant to be a callout post accusing them of being a manipulative abuser or whatever, because this is about the dev team putting teenagers in these flirty positions to satisfy the player that Byleth is meant to represent. Byleth is just the plot device they use to do so. People often say this flirting isn’t grooming because Byleth has “good intentions,” but they’re a self-insert, and a self-insert doesn’t have to have any in-universe intentions because the outside writing drives their actions— the thing is we KNOW these writers are not above writing pedophilia as harmless romance. People project good intentions on Byleth, because that’s the avatar. You’re supposed to project on them. This of course includes their “good intentions,” and when I play 3H I headcanon that too, but canonically speaking, these intentions are 100% ambiguous. They never voice attraction to another student, or disgust at the thought of dating them because they speak in small, limited dialogue options and thought bubbles. We don’t have a real, canon indication that they would oppose dating a student before the time skip nor that they would actually do it.

What we do have are the canonical interactions that make people uncomfortable, however. Byleth can think of students in “that way” when the Gatekeeper describes a romantic getaway on the Goddess Tower. If we take them at face value, then their dialogue options clearly establish that they’re okay with flirting with students as young as fifteen, at the very least. They “die” before potentially starting to date any of them for real, but the beginnings of an uncomfortable romance are there and the game fully embraces this as okay .

This is all a result of the writing. Fates never condemned you for picking your sister over any of the other thirty (?) romanceable characters, just like Three Houses doesn’t condemn you for picking Lysithea over any older women in the teaching staff. It’s just another S support option, and it even gets some sweet extra content. She’s touched that you care for her, and you do everything in your power to take care of her frail health, and you guys get happily married. No one ever mentions that you were her high school teacher when she was fifteen and you met at said high school, and she was your favourite student— and this is, you know, something of an important detail in any relationship. Just like Fates, it’s sweet and shippable out of context, which just encourages normalization. How dare you say this is unhealthy? It’s tender! Look how much he loves her!

The thing is that 3H initially presents your students as your charges in school. You’re unambiguously in charge of them as both tactician and instructor, even if you treat each other in a familiar way. Even if most students technically outrank you as nobles, Garreg Mach as politically neutral ground implicitly puts you above them as their teacher. The younger ones are vulnerable teenagers, away from home in a boarding school. Most have some sort of underlying emotional problem that they come to you for. They come to you for advice, and sometimes just venting. You can give them gifts, and have tea every week with them if you so wish in an off-screen conversation. Tea also serves as the “skinship” of this game where you get to see the anime boy/girl of your dreams from up-close, which is a pretty creepy thing to do with a fifteen year old anime girl even out of universe, but I digress.

Looking at this chart in the essay I linked earlier gave me a little bit of a stroke, because the “Strategies” aspects are all things you do in 3H prior to the time-skip:

This is obviously accidental, but still concerning because we know these devs have a twisted idea of what romance is, and that culminated in what I sincerely hope is an unintended but still eerily accurate portrayal of grooming.

Emotional confidence, teatime and gifts, flirting, making a vow together at the Goddess Tower, sex jokes, are all things you do pre-timeskip, and some student’s personal arcs make this even worse. Marianne, Dimitri and Bernadetta have mental illnesses, and they heavily rely on you for support. Edelgard and Sylvain express attraction towards you. You meet Felix’s father and he puts his full trust in you. Ignatz, Bernadetta and Marianne have very low self-esteem. Characters like Ashe and Annette have major parental issues that they discuss with you. In short, you see them at their most vulnerable as kids, and then get together as adults.

About the only thing you don’t do pre-time skip in that list is “Isolate,” but some character arcs post time skip have this distinct vibe nonetheless. Many students leave their homes in the war phase explicitly because of you and no other reason. CF Ingrid in particular outright betrays Faerghus and everything she knew for you, as she says she doesn’t really believe in Edelgard’s war. Knowing you as a teacher can string her along in her Goddess Tower scene while she’s underage puts this in an awkward perspective.

This is what makes the five year time skip hold little weight. Everyone is an adult when the relationship is consummated, yes, but it starts pre-time skip.

Emotionally vulnerable teenagers having a strong relationship and frequent alone time with their older teacher, who is a confidant and someone that makes them feel special is already looking bad, but the absolute loyalty, idolisation and close relationship when they’re adults only makes it worse, even if it’s probably just a result of poorly thought out game design and player pandering gone wrong.

It’s not just player pandering, however. The devs just clearly think these relationships are okay. Other non-Byleth student/teacher romances deserve a mention, too—Manuela is forty something and thinks of her romantic potential with some 19 year-old:

Thankfully, this support ends at B, but others don’t. She has romantic endings with Lorenz, Ferdinand and Dorothea, who she even canonically met before Garreg Mach as a child and who idolises her as an opera star. The game doesn’t stop at the normalisation of grooming with Byleth, they’re just the most noticeable example, especially since it’s a power fantasy for the player who can romance all of them, not just a few.

The time skip had the opportunity to fix some of the creepy implications, but it didn’t

People like to look at the time-skip as a justification of romance. That 15 year old kid is 20 now, after all, and your students are adults, who have matured and grown outside of your influence.... Except your interactions with them remain virtually the same. They still call you Professor and hold you in some extremely high esteem as an authority figure.

Three Houses has an avatar worship problem like all newer Fire Emblem games and this definitely contributes to the uncomfortable implications in the narrative, because literally everyone respects you and adores you to an uncomfortable degree. Even as grown ass adults, the avatar worship just makes it seem like your students still idolize you like when they were kids awe struck by how cool you are.

They don’t show the change from “mentor” to “peer” satisfactorily, like they intended for the romance elements to work. Byleth’s name is customizable, making a first name basis difficult, but they easily could have changed your war phase title to something that would make it seem like your students’ view of you changed, like a military title such as Commander, or even just Eisner, your canonical last name. All students still call you “Professor,” in the war phase, though. Some students even call you Professor when you’re about to propose to them in the S support, like Lysithea. Leonie, one of the oldest students who is actually your age, has this to say about calling you by your name… you know, like a normal peer and friend would:

White Clouds is also a whole year while VW, AM, and SS take place during six to seven months, CF during five. You spend more time as their teacher and mentor than as “peers,” so Leonie’s position is pretty understandable despite being like, barely a year younger than you.

To rewind, this game lets you pick a “special” student pre-time skip, who you’re encouraged to build bonds with through tea, gifts and the Goddess Tower. You’re their favourite teacher, as said by many other characters. They grow up and join you in your war regardless of who they have to fight, some even just to be with you. They still affectionately call you Professor, and look up to you. You can then marry them. This is unironically seen as both acceptable and even romantic.

Many of these interactions like tea are gameplay elements and thus come off as the devs not thinking too hard about it. Except, again, we know they have no problem in writing outright pedophilia, but Fates in particular had heavy backlash over this, which explains the need to tone it down a little. Grooming was their “compromise” between not turning off the casual audience while still cheekily pandering to that crowd. Everyone is technically over eighteen in Three Houses, even if they act extremely similar to their teenage selves. The “technically 1000 year old” romances like Flayn and Sothis were also left intact.

This is an important distinction, because a bit of a popular “it’s not grooming” argument when dealing with the war phase is Byleth’s weird dragon powers slowing their aging. Unlike the kids, all adult non-students in Three Houses undergo no portrait changes during the time skip, including Byleth. The thing is that in Chapter 10, they receive dragon powers as part of some plot nonsense, so it has different implications than just anime hating everyone over 25. There’s implications in the game that this definitely affected their ability to age normally, such as the Flayn ending:

However, we don’t know how their aging was affected and to what extent. Three Houses’ lore didn’t specify much about the way dragons age. Rhea undergoes dragon madness, so we can thus tentatively assume Fódlan’s dragons are similar to Archanea and Valentia’s dragons, which would mean there’s a chance Byleth even aged normally for a few years before slowing down significantly like Nah from Awakening did. It’s entirely possible they’re biologically 25-26 like they’re meant to be, because they didn’t physically die. They were just asleep.

Even if they really did not age a day over 21/22, it still makes the pre-time skip hold weight, however. Byleth can flirt with them as teens prior to any fantastical excuse, and they’re still a mentor figure in the students’ eyes, which goes on to colour every interaction with you in the war phase. Post-time skip everyone is legal, but they still have that history with you, and the game makes no real effort to change that whatsoever. It still fulfills the student/teacher fantasy despite the many, many technicalities it tries to pull out of its ass.

Intsys is self aware and knows that this upsets people

To say these devs probably didn’t mean it that way is not entirely impossible, but they don’t exactly inspire confidence. They even “acknowledge” their flippant way of treating teacher/student relationships in a DLC quest during school phase:

Of course, this is a silly complaint because a teacher being friendly with students is a good thing! Students learn better in a positive environment! The problem here is that it’s obviously referencing and mocking the people upset that this becomes romantic later on. I think anyone would have been able to forgive the overly friendly nature of Byleth and the students’ relationships if no line had been crossed regarding romance. This is Fire Emblem after all, and it wouldn’t be Fire Emblem without supports and relationships values.

But also, Intsys is very good at jokingly acknowledging when they’re being creepy rather than striving to do better. It’s not the first time they’ve done this. A really bold faced example is when the Fire Emblem mobile game widely known for fanservice released a ten year old child (no magic or dragons, either, just a child) dressed as a bride and had her say: “This outfit is just for the [bride] festival, don’t get any weird ideas!” when they were the ones who made a child bride for fanservice purposes.

this one was pretty fucked up even by their standards. comment sums it up

The devs also once called Camilla from Fates a “cow” in an interview for having huge breasts and a little tiara that looks like horns. They designed her that way, but then mocked her for looking like an oversexualized caricature. Any way you look at it, they’re well aware they’re being off-putting and cheekily being like, tee hee, I sure made a dating sim set in a high school! Which ultimately leads to the final point:

Though canon definitely has its problems, it’s less about canon and more about the devs’ bad intentions and the fans’ general lack of empathy for CSA victims:

This is not to diminish canon’s impact at all, because it’s outright malicious to portray an unhealthy relationship as cute and harmless. In short, they just pull technicality after technicality out of their ass to make student/teacher okay somehow instead of just..... not having student/teacher at all. After Fates having fucking incest, 3H and teacher grooming seems outright tame and that definitely contributed to the wide acceptance in the fanbase, because it’s less outrageously pandery. I can’t believe I have to say this in 2020, but…... that’s still not good, lads.

I will also admit there’s some nuance here regarding some of the students, especially those 20+ year olds who aren’t easy to manipulate teenagers like Mercedes. We can sit here and argue all day about whether or not this game legitimately 100% can be considered grooming because of those 20+ students, and all of those in-universe technicalities since there’s no real life academic journal on grooming who will talk about the offender being a dragon, but the end of the matter is that the devs chose to portray their pseudo-dating sim franchise in a school, while your MC is a teacher and most of the students are teens. These relationships are also 100% normalised and okay in-game. They did it with incest and with teacher/student, both topics that are majorly upsetting to CSA victims, and that alone is worth calling out. They even mocked people who were upset about it with a little DLC quest, just to rub it in.

This whole post was a critique of 3H and Intsys, but it’s impossible to critique the game without critiquing the fan culture around it, because the devs definitely had a fanbase in mind. We know they take feedback, since they toned it down after complaints about Fates, but the reason why they didn’t just get rid of pandering aspects, is because they’re popular. There’s a huge demand for this, and that’s exactly why they keep doing it, and it’s the simple reason that online anime spaces full of adults have always placed a particular interest in teens and sexualising and shipping them. A Fire Emblem game set in a school with a calendar and a lot of romantic and social elements that started development in 2017 just screams Persona 5 inspired. Fans obviously noticed.

”edelgard is soooo thirsty” jokes are a lot less funny if you know going for the thirsty kid is a legit strategy

Now, I don’t know shit about Atlus, and after seeing all these memes regarding Persona 5 and the fans’ positive reaction to them, I have zero intentions to play it, but I’ve unfortunately played every single FE game and watched the transition to classic FE to 3DS FE to 3H. I have my criticisms about modern FE’s writing quality for sure, and while I obviously can’t say it used to be perfect because it was still a fairly mediocre (but fun) game about teenagers beating up dragons, it’s now become one of the single most unfriendly fanbases if you’ve gone through any kind of sexual trauma. Incest shipping, pedophilic shipping, and sexualizing teenagers was always there to some extent, but it’s blown up now that the devs have emboldened those fans by doing it in canon itself. It’s rampant, especially on “waifu” circles, and now grooming ships are mainstream and everywhere. Even LGBT friendly “safe spaces” are unbrowsable. F!Edeleth in particular is commonly seen as the holy grail of wlw representation. Linhardt is the most popular M/M option despite the other two being adults. Doromanuela was given a shout-out by Dorothea’s English voice actress.

Old FE games had background things like that all the time, (Roy/Cecilia is Literally gender swapped Petra/Byleth) but the keyword here is background. Not like... 80% of the ships involving the MC in game, which means you weren’t bombarded with this every day. Worse, the discussion about this topic has been non-existent. Reddit has not touched this at all despite the community there being well known for meticulous criticism, Twitter and Tumblr have seen its fair share of discourse, but it’s quickly dismissed. Just click here to watch people dismiss the concerns of every single grooming and CSA victim, or even call them stupid like we can’t recognize this shit in every single fandom. Of note are the fans who dismiss grooming concerns by saying all flirting occurs post time skip (which is false, as we just said) and the characters are only 3-6 years apart anyway……………….. and then gleefully consume/produce pre-time skip content:

miscellaneous tags on a pre-time skip linleth comic (20/21/22 and 16/17 if you’re not keeping count) not posting the comic itself cause i don’t want anon hate lol

While there’s an argument to be made for romance with anyone who was 20+ pre-time skip, there is NONE for the underage kids. None. And like, even if you somehow still want to argue that 3H itself isn’t grooming because of the time skip, a huge chunk of the fanworks objectively are, and this is a huge problem that needs to be called out and nobody does so whatsoever. That comic has 2500+ notes.

This isn’t even a call to tell people to throw out their copies and riot, just to be aware of this and try to make fan spaces a little more bearable for CSA victims. A lot of people call this ‘toxic cancel culture’ and whatnot, but I personally can’t defend a dev team who I KNOW has done heinous things in the past, and continue to support the pedophilic mentality in online anime fan spaces but like, in a cheeky subtle way. They easily could have made Byleth a student who tutors the others because of their experienced mercenary background with Jeralt, or just not let them romance the kids at all. They could have pleased both the dating sim and high school camps by letting you choose to be either a 21+ teacher or a 17 year old student with the appropriate romance options, too. They didn’t do any of this, and their questionable past begs me to ask why, and none of the answers I can come up with are very encouraging. They also even blatantly gave you extra content when romancing students.

I hope contextualizing the 3H grooming at least makes some people understand why it’s so upsetting to see it everywhere. It’s just the decent thing to do to tag your posts, and to not dismiss any of these things. It’s just the decent thing to do to listen to people who are sharing their experiences and respecting their boundaries if they simply do not want to interact with you if you decide to continue supporting Intsys.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. Stan Claude von Riegan.

#t #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #grooming mention #csa ment

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dontmindthefangirling · 3 years

Text

The Switch {p.p.}

Summary: In World 824, you’re the incredibly famous and incredibly obnoxious Peter Parker’s assistant. In World 626, you’re the nerdy and Star Wars loving Peter Parker’s best friend. In both worlds, you manage to fall in love with him, but what happens when there is a glitch in the universe, and they switch places?

Warnings: swearing, angst, 18+ in future parts, drugs, alcohol

Pairing: college!Peter x reader, famous!Peter x reader

series masterlist

chapter 1 - stolen glances

World 824

You huffed as you stomped up the glass stairs, hoping he would hear you coming as you approached his bedroom door. You had your laptop tucked under your arm after responding to very angry emails about Mr. Parker missing yet again another interview. He had one in twenty minutes in downtown Los Angeles, and he still hasn’t come out of his room.

You knocked loudly on the door, sighing deeply as you heard giggling coming from inside. You heard muffled chatter as you tapped your foot impatiently.

“Peter!” you called, rolling your eyes when you heard a high-pitched squeal from Peter’s friend inside. “You’re going to be late!”

You heard some shuffling coming from inside as you blew a strand of your hair out of your face. Finally, the door opened partially, revealing Peter shirtless in the doorway with just a pair of gray sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips. You swallowed thickly, keeping your eyes on his face.

“Like what you see, darling?” he chipped, winking at you. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks but you cleared your throat and pointed at your watch.

“You have an interview with KTLA in twenty minutes. Get dressed,” you scolded, keeping your voice level so that it didn’t waver in his presence. Peter rolled his eyes.

“Do I have to?”

“You can’t blow off a fifth interview in one week, Peter.”

“Why not?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Because then I have to deal with the backlash.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” he chuckled, eyeing you lowly.

“Petey!” a voice squealed from behind him. “Come back to bed!”

“Just get dressed,” you muttered before turning on your heel and heading back down the stairs. Peter watched you for a moment before he shut the door to get dressed. He didn’t like making you upset.

At the bottom of the stairs in his large Los Angeles mansion, you padded your way towards the kitchen for a glass of water. Your throat felt dry after talking to him and you had to steady your heartbeat.

How you managed to end up as Peter Parker’s assistant was beyond you. Your dad knew a guy who knew a guy who somehow got you the job as his assistant. He was apparently looking for one ever since he moved to Los Angeles from New York City, and he said you were perfect for the job when you were interviewed. Probably because you were really good at organizing things, or just because Peter wanted to sleep with you, you weren’t sure.

Either way you were just happy to get the job.

It paid really well, and you got to live in a huge mansion in Beverly Hills. When you took the job, you wondered how bad could it really be. Peter Parker is loved by everyone who knows him.

Apparently, they didn’t really know him.

He’s portrayed in the news as this kind vigilante who goes out of his way to save kittens from trees, help old ladies cross the street, and stop real danger when it reared its ugly head.

He rose to fame when he was seventeen, revealing to the world that he was Spider-Man and taking over Stark Industries after Tony Stark died, leaving him as his legacy.

The fame got to his head.

You had to constantly making sure he wasn’t getting himself obliterated with alcohol every night, or at least not in public where the paparazzi could see him, and you had to make sure the paps weren’t seeing a different girl leave his house every morning. He was always getting into fights with people who tried to challenge him at bars or clubs. Since everyone knew he was Spider-Man, a lot of people questioned it and thought it was all staged for fame, so they tried to fight him and see how it went.

It usually did not end well in their favor.

But also making sure Peter was portrayed as this famous hero who had an anger issue was incredibly difficult when he was punching people in the face in a public club.

You also had to make sure his famous black suit was constantly washed and pressed so it looked brand new for every public appearance. This job deemed difficult when he was coming back to the mansion soaked in blood with an appearance at the Grammy’s the following night.

“Call me?” the poor girl asked Peter as she followed him down the stairs.

“Probably not,” Peter said, now completely ignoring her existence. Defeat crossed the poor girl’s face realizing this was only a one night stand. The same thing happened all of the time and you started to feel bad for them.

“There’s a car waiting out front for you,” you said to the girl with a soft sympathetic smile on your face. “It’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

The girl softly thanked you before leaving the house with her head down.

“Do you have to be so mean to them after?” you demanded once she was gone, putting your hands on your hips. Peter shrugged his shoulders while chugging the coffee you had left him on the table.

“It’s not like we’re dating,” he said nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes, knowing you’d never get through to him.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” you scolded.

“I was just going to swing there,” Peter said. “LA traffic is a mess.”

“Again?” you groaned. You still had to show up for the interview and if Peter swung himself there that meant that you’d get there after he did, leaving plenty of time for him to say the wrong thing or act out.

“They love when I do that,” Peter grinned, unzipping his hoodie and revealing the black Spider-Man suit underneath. “Really gets the cameras going.”

You sighed while slipping on your heels. “Fine, just don’t misbehave until I get there, please. Someone’s got to clean up after your messes.”

Peter took a step closer to you. “You know I can swing us both right?”

“No way,” you laughed while shaking your head. “There is no way I’m letting you swing me across downtown LA.”

“Why not?” Peter asked, cocking his head to the side. “I’m pretty strong (Y/N), I can hold you.”

“Peter, I’m in a dress.”

“That makes it better.”

“You’re disgusting,” you said while rolling your eyes and heading towards the door. “Just please behave!”

“I always do, don’t I?” Peter said, winking at you as he followed you outside.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Peter Parker,” you sighed as he shot a web towards a nearby tree and flung himself into the air, disappearing a few minutes later, swinging towards the city.

World 626

You sat propped up on your best friend’s bed, skimming through the book you were supposed to have done for your history class tomorrow. Peter was scrambling around his room, searching for his notebook, throwing things around while you sat calmly on his bed.

“It’s probably in your backpack,” you offered, not taking your eyes off of your book.

“It’s not in my backpack,” Peter chided while tearing his closet apart. “Can you help me look?”

You sighed, putting your book down and swinging your legs over the side of his bed. You walked over to his backpack and pulled out the blue notebook that he was looking for with all of his physics notes in it.

“Is this it?”

Peter turned around, his curls a mess from frantically tearing his room apart looking for the notebook in your hands.

“Where did you find it?” he gasped, grabbed it from you and placing it in his backpack.

“Your backpack.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I saw you put it in there last night,” you chuckled. “I guess you just forgot.”

Peter shook his head with a light laugh.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he said while pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” you said with a smile, and Peter rolled his eyes.

You both made your way down the stairs of the dorm building and exiting onto the Columbia campus. The sun was shining as it was early September and New York still had a few days of summer left before the leaves started to change. You walked next to Peter as he was headed to his physics class and you had history.

“Want to grab lunch with Ned and MJ later?” Peter asked while scrolling through his phone.

“Yeah that sounds fun. I haven’t seen them in a while since classes started,” you pointed out.

“I know, everyone’s been crazy busy,” Peter hummed in agreement. You caught a glance of him from the side as the sun hit him almost...perfectly. His brown eyes reflected flecks of gold in the sun, and his curls looked so soft that you had the urge to run your hands through them.

You shook your head, shaking yourself out of those thoughts. Peter had been your best friend since high school when you met as awkward freshmen and you were placed as chemistry partners. You hadn’t had the slightest idea how to solve any of the problems, but Peter was patient and helped you through them.

You just stuck together ever since.

You’ve seen Peter grow into the young man he was at college now, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say puberty didn’t hit him like a truck. You also knew that being Spider-Man had its perks like the extra muscle on his biceps, but no one else was supposed to know about that, except Ned and MJ, so you kept your mouth shut while girls tried to faun over him.

But Peter was just too shy to talk to any of them, and it made your heart swell seeing as he didn’t change at all, even with the change in appearance.

“(Y/N)?” Peter said, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Huh?” you sputtered, looking back at him.

“I asked if you wanted to go to Flash’s party on Friday,” Peter laughed. “What’s got your head in the clouds?”

“Nothing,” you said, feeling your heart quicken in your chest. “Um, yeah, Flash’s party. He’s hosting at his frat at NYU, right? I think MJ texted me about it.”

“Yeah, Ned said he’d get us in. I don’t know if I want to go to a frat though,” Peter winced.

“Why not? It’ll be nice to see Flash again.”

Peter gave you a funny look. “I still don’t understand your friendship.”

“What?” you shrugged. “He was always nice to me!”

“Yeah but he was mean to me, doesn’t that mean you have to hate him via like...transitive property or something?”

You laughed loudly. “Transitive property?”

“Yeah!”

You continued laughing until you were interrupted by your arrival at your history building.

“This is me,” you said in-between chuckles while earning glares from Peter. “You know I make fun of you with love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter said, pulling you into a hug with a gentle kiss to your hair. “Whatever.”

You smiled, pushing him away lightly while waving goodbye as he headed off to Physics. At some point in your friendship, you and Peter got very cuddly with each other, reserving bear hugs and forehead kisses only for each other. You told yourself it was just platonic, but every time his lips touched your head, your stomach erupted into butterflies.

“I always forget, are you and Parker dating?” a familiar voice asked from behind. You turned to see your friend, Harry Osborn, waiting for you in front of your history classroom. You rolled your eyes.

“No, we’re not dating,” you grumbled.

“Sure looks that way,” Harry pointed out as you sat down in your regular seats next to each other.

“We’re just really close,” you said and opened your laptop.

“Super close,” Harry teased, grinning because he knew it got a reaction out of you.

“Shut up,” you hissed, glad to see your professor walk into the room so that class could start and Harry had to stop talking.

World 824

Camera flashes were blinding and you had no idea how Peter did this all the time. You were accompanying him to the premiere of his best friend, Will Langston’s, movie. Will Langston was a famous movie star, and naturally he became Peter’s best friend when they both realized they were A-listers.

“Peter! Is it true that you’re going to be traveling back to New York to train with the Avengers?”

“Peter! Over here! Are you and Daphne dating?!”

“Mr. Parker! How is your Aunt?!”

Peter ignored the questions, per usual, and you stood on the inside of the red carpet, closest to the entrance of the movie theater and waiting for him to join you so you could accompany him inside. You had to admit that he did clean up rather nicely, as he was dressed in a traditional black suit and tie. His hair was gelled back, curtesy of his hairstylist, and his large and expensive Rolex shone brightly in the reflection of all of the camera flashes.

Once Peter had had enough time in front of the cameras he walked briskly over to you.

“Ready?” he asked, extending his arm for you to hook. You stared at him hesitantly. Usually he brought a date to these types of things, but sometimes he didn’t. You just never expected him to want you to escort him inside.

You knew you didn’t have time to wait around so you slowly grabbed onto his arm and walked with him inside.

“Love, you’re shaking,” Peter whispered as you found your reserved seats for the viewing of the movie.

“No I’m not,” you whispered back harshly.

But you were. Your fingers that were gripping his arm were trembling because for some stupid and strange reason, being this close to Peter always made you nervous. You hated it. You quickly let go of his arm and smoothed out your dress as you sat down next to him.

“Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?” Peter asked softly as he looked at you while patrons filed into the famous Chinese Theater. You blushed softly, thankful for the dim light of the theater.

“You may have mentioned it in the car,” you responded, keeping your eyes on the screen. You felt Peter’s eyes on you, but you kept your eyes forward. He was always flirty, that’s just who he was. Lately, though, it seemed like he was dropping these types of comments more often.

You didn’t like how it made your heart flutter.

“You know this is a horror, right?” Peter whispered. You looked at him in alarm. You hated horror movies.

“What?” you almost shrieked.

Peter started laughing. “I’m kidding. It’s a comedy, I just wanted to see the look on your face.”

“That’s not funny!” you hissed, slapping his arm gently. He grinned at you with his perfect stupid teeth, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re the worst,” you grumbled.

“Nah, you love me.”

“I really don’t.”

“Then why do you stick around?”

You were a little taken aback by his question and you turned your gaze back to him, seeing the serious expression on his face. His brown eyes bore into yours, but before you could even think of answering, the lights dimmed even further and the movie began to play.

You were left with your hands barely touching on the shared armrest between you and your heart beating wildly. Little did you know, his heart was beating as equally as fast.

World 626

Music blared widely from inside Flash’s frat. You, MJ, Ned, and Peter were standing outside and waiting for Flash to come out to let you in. The frats had some ridiculous rule of only letting one guy in per a certain amount of girls, something they called the ratio. It was incredibly demeaning and sexist, but Flash insisted you didn’t have to worry about it.

You still worried about it.

“Promise you won’t leave me alone with any of these guys,” you murmured to Peter as you watched Flash approach you.

“I would never,” Peter said, placing a hand on your back. His hand made goosebumps break out on your skin and you had to inhale sharply to avoid visibly shivering at his touch.

“Come on in guys!” Flash said excitedly while turning to one of his frat brothers. “They’re with me.”

Your group followed Flash inside while talking to him about NYU and how his classes were going. You had to admit, you missed Flash and his chaos. You even knew Peter missed messing with him. You could tell Flash was already buzzing, and the smell of vodka instantly hit your nose as you stepped inside of the beaten up old house.

The music was so loud you almost couldn’t hear yourself think, but Peter’s hand on your shoulder kept you grounded.

“If you guys want something to drink, there’s alcohol in the back room!” Flash announced over the music.

“Want to get something to drink?” you asked, turning to Peter. He nodded as he followed you towards the room Flash pointed to. You grabbed a Truly from the cooler and Peter opted for a classic Bud Light. You made a face at him.

“Beer?”

“I don’t feel like getting black out tonight,” Peter chuckled and took a sip from the drink. You shrugged in understanding as you opened your drink. You both headed back to the dance floor and spotted MJ and Ned.

“This music is terrible,” MJ yelled to you over the bumping bass. You laughed.

“That’s frats for you,” you yelled back. Ned and Peter were trying to talk about something, but the music was so loud you didn’t think they were getting anywhere.

“Want to dance?” you asked MJ. MJ gave you a look as if to say seriously, but you took her hand and pulled her further into the dance floor.

“Come on, MJ!” you pleaded. “Please!”

MJ laughed as you spun her around, dancing terribly to Bodak Yellow by Cardi B. You both began swinging your arms together, ignoring the people making out around you. Eventually, Peter and Ned made their way over to you both. The frat was getting more crowded, which made it more difficult to walk without having to elbow your way through.

“Ned! Have you talked to Betty recently?” you asked Ned over the loud music.

“Yeah! She’s coming to visit next weekend!” your friend yelled back. You smiled at him, seeing how excited he was to see her again. Betty ended up going to Harvard for school, and you knew they missed each other. You were also excited to see your old high school friend.

“Hey guys!” Harry Osborn said, making his way over with a red solo cup in his hand. “I’m surprised to see you here!”

“Why’s that, Osborn?” MJ challenged. “Because you think we’re lame?”

Harry laughed nervously while scratching the back of his head. “N-No, MJ, that’s not-”

“Relax, I’m messing with you,” MJ laughed. Harry seemed to relax almost instantly as he smiled at her. You tugged Peter next to you and leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“You think there’s something there?” you giggled. Peter looked at MJ and Harry, narrowing his eyes slightly and shrugging.

“Yeah, maybe in another universe.”

You laughed and took Peter’s hand, spinning him regardless of his protests.

“Aren’t I supposed to spin you?” he asked.

“We’re breaking gender norms in this house, Parker,” you laughed. Peter chuckled and took another swig of his drink.

After a few hours of dancing to incredibly loud music and drinking with your friends, you started to feel the alcohol in your system. You were laughing with MJ as you tried to set her and Harry up, which MJ was not happy about. You thought it was hilarious though.

However, at one point, when the fifth guy to approach you tried to dance with you, Peter grabbed your hand and pulled you from the dance floor.

“Peter, what-”

“Those guys are like predators in there,” he sighed exasperated once you were outside and away from the loud music. Your ears were ringing now that the music wasn’t directly in your ears.

“What are you talking about?” you asked. “I was dancing with MJ!”

“(Y/N), those guys were trying to dance with you and you didn’t even see them! That’s so creepy!”

“I know how to fend off a stupid frat boy,” you said.

Peter smiled. “I know...I know you do. I’m sorry, I just...got nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?” you asked, your voice dropping in volume as you stared up at him in the moonlight. Your heart began to quicken as Peter brought up a shaking hand to gently push a piece of your hair behind your ear.

You both began to move slowly towards each other, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders and his on your waist. You could barely breathe, and his scent was even more intoxicating than the alcohol.

“There they are!” a very drunk Ned announced, causing you and Peter to jump away from each other.

“We thought we lost you in that awful crowd,” Ned slurred.

“I think we need to get him home,” Harry said, following MJ and Ned towards you and Peter.

“Yeah, I can take him back to our dorm,” Peter said, giving you a quick glance before patting Ned on the shoulder.

“Let’s go, buddy.”

You inhaled sharply as you watched them walk away to hail a cab.

“(Y/N)? You coming?” MJ asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed shakily as you jogged to catch up with them.

What was just going to happen between you and Peter?

chapter 2 - uncharted territory

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houseboatisland · 3 years

Note

Is Elizabeth on your island, and if so how has she adjusted after decades abandoned?

She is! And here's my headcanon for her:

Topham Hatt I, (The Fat Director,) had by 1926 accumulated a small fortune as General Manager of the North Western Railway. Reputed as a workaholic, (or boss-aholic,) Topham had sunk considerable amounts of money into his sprawling Wellsworth estate, Topham Hall. Topham was inspired by the undertaking of his sometime friend Sir Robert Walker, the Baronet of Sand Hutton. Walker's estate utilized war surplus one foot and three inch gauge locomotives to carry distinguished guests, agricultural produce, and coal to and bricks deriving from the nearby brickworks of Claxton.

The resulting pet project, the Topham Hall Railway, is where Elizabeth's story begins.

The T.H.R. was laid to what had essentially become the Sudrian "standard narrow gauge," of two feet and three inches. The line started from its Exchange Siding with Wellsworth Station, and made several crossings through the streets of that town's suburbs, before reaching the estate grounds. Hall Station brought passengers within a stone's throw of the mansion itself. Moving on, the line dove into the woods through a magical tree tunnel, with a spur at its opening for the engine and carriage shed. Crossing a brook over a three-span wooden trestle bridge, another station and a few sidings known as "Orchard Station" served the fruit and vegetable orchard. Another mile or so, and the railway stopped again for "Bowler's Station," where the Hatts and any guests could detrain for the estate's cricket pavilion.

Another half a mile, and the railway terminated at the Wellsworth Brickworks. This had been a puny operation before the THR linked up with it, employing only three men or so. After the railway's arrival, it expanded to employ a few dozen, and three more kilns were added. Throughout the Great Depression, Topham kept the Brickworks open and its employees onboard out of his own pocket, even as the bricks accumulated unsold. This was far more humanitarian than his treatment of NWR employees and three of his engines!

The railway had one locomotive, a royal purple Kerr Stuart 'Tattoo' class, named "Little Barford," technically a brother of the Mid Sodor Railway's No. 4, "Stuart." Little Barford arrived also with several v-tipper wagons, a dozen ex-War Department bogie wagons, four-wheel trucks and two ambulance vans. The ambulance vans were thoroughly rebuilt by the estate's woodshop to become an elaborate passenger coach, and a "Dining Car," which was quite identical save for the fewer seats and teeny gas cooker. The passenger coach saw constant use, but the Dining Car mostly sat in the siding at Bowler's Station as it cooked. The line was so short, it never could've done more than boil an egg while moving to timetable!

Capping off this complement of rolling stock was one Sentinel DG4 "Overtype" Steam Lorry, quickly named Elizabeth, after the Duchess of York's newborn daughter. Elizabeth was absolutely coveted by Topham, though he wasn’t exactly a steady hand at the wheel. Elizabeth was kept polished to perfection, even when her work involved carting such grubby loads as soil, clay, and coal. She was in every respect a "father's princess," but she worked dutifully and loved Little Barford like a twin brother. She also learned from her Victorian old master her favorite catchphrase, "We are/are not amused!" depending on the context.

The Second World War began in September 1939, and this national shift in priorities turned Elizabeth’s devil-may-care youth on its head. The Wellsworth Brickworks shuttered as many of its men volunteered or were called up, and housing construction all but ended. Little Barford was kept on at the Hall as the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries set to increase production on Topham Hall’s farms. Elizabeth on the other hand was, for the first time, moved away from her only home. As the civilian petrol rationing situation tightened, and private motoring was eventually banned, Elizabeth was suddenly very valuable as a coal-fired road vehicle.

She was commandeered and relocated to Tidmouth Harbour, working night and day as a dockside lorry. This was a very stressful period for her, for she was utterly friendless and out of her element. Although Sodor was never bombed, the routine blackout drills and stories of other ports destroyed, such as Liverpool, took their toll on her mentally. At some point however, she "bucked up." Elizabeth realized she was no longer an aristocrat's toy. For all she knew, Topham had probably forgotten her. As the military lorries she came face to face with daily were almost all of the internal-combustion type, who was to say that when, if ever the war was over, that he'd want her back if he remembered her?

In these circumstances, Elizabeth adopted her more familiar, stiff-upper lip personality. There was no time for polish or quaint little rides to the cricket pavilion, there was a war on! She became grubby, and liked to be grubby. She worked like the devil, and loved that even more. Her posh accent never left her, but she was now in every respect out to be a working girl. Elizabeth would never admit it to herself, but this huge change of self owed much to her upset at being removed from her only home. Did she legitimately like being a working lorry, rather than an estate owner's princess? Certainly she did. Was it an easy and completely voluntary change of character? Of course not. But it was done, and Elizabeth spent many nights assuring herself that it was the right path, the only path to have taken.

1945, the end of the war. Everyone was so jubilant. Elizabeth was cleaned and polished like a crown jewel, decked out with flags and bunting, and allowed to participate in the Tidmouth Victory Parade. In several colour newswreels of the event, you can spot her amid the cascade of tickertape and throngs of soldiers, nurses, longshoremen, civilians, tanks and lorries. It was no doubt a fun day for her, but now she thought a great deal about the future.

The war, which had been everything to her for six years, was over. Soldiers were being demobilized and coming home. Industries were retooling for the postwar world, to make consumer goods rather than several airplanes an hour. The Attlee Government, in conjunction with the devolved Sudrian Parliament established in 1946, had a grand vision for The Mainland and Sodor, where the welfare state for the long-suffering people and machines was vastly expanded, their jobs would be increasingly unionized and their bosses answerable to them, rather than the other way around.

Despite the historically harsh winter into the New Year of 1947, Sudrian workers, bouncing back much quicker than their Mainland counterparts, were delighted with PM Attlee's "New Jerusalem." Tidmouth Harbour was still very busy, as Sodor's biggest gate in and out for the world, and Elizabeth kept calm and carried on as time marched on. She was much busier than she had first feared, and that winter was her time to shine as so many petrol lorries were out of commission with "head colds." Elizabeth convinced herself, somehow, that these thousands and thousands of war surplus petrol lorries wouldn't take over. If so many had taken ill in these conditions, maybe Sodor, or even the whole world, would consider turning back the clock and restoring steam to the roads completely.

She feared and resented petrol lorries something terrible. When the petrol ration which had enabled her life all this time, was finally ended, she was heartbroken. Every worry she had seemed to come to pass all at once. First, the Tidmouth Harbour Authority decided it would be much cheaper to stack its fleet with war surplus lorries, and she was out of a job. Her next owner, a furniture mover, didn't keep her long, and neither did the next, a man who planned to fit her out as a bus and ran out of money.

By 1956, when the now-knighted Sir Topham Hatt I had died, Elizabeth had already been accumulating dust in a shed for two years. She never saw her last owner, who by now had failed to pay rent on her storage. Anopha Quarry, who owned the tumbledown little shack, seized her to make up the difference, but never once came to inspect the lorry who was now their property. Eventually, the Quarry forgot about her too.

It wasn't until 1961, when a little blue puffer deputizing for Toby on the Quarry Tramway carelessly had a coupling rod failure, that she reemerged. She made a heartstopping journey down the line for the necessary spare rod, pins, oilpot and tools in Ffarquhar Sheds, where she stirred up quite a scene, before an even more uncomfortable journey back. Elizabeth's Sentinel heritage thankfully preserved her for the whole ordeal, when Thomas' Driver, then at her wheel, worried that she'd explode and take him with her.

Back into the shed she went after this good deed, for how long, if ever to come out again, she didn't know. Until of course, that same night, a man very like her old Master, named Bertram just like his son whom she had given so many rides through the orchards and to cricket games, came to make a visit...

You can guess the rest :3

Sir Bertram Topham Hatt I was reunited with his childhood friend, and his father's favorite lorry. He immediately sent for her with his own money to be restored, and at once moved her back to Topham Hall, where she was herself reunited with the closest thing to a brother she'd ever had, Little Barford, who this whole time had been working as well as ever, and wondered why no one had ever gone to look for Elizabeth despite all his questions. It had been assumed, wrongly, that Elizabeth had perished on war service. That's how the Tidmouth Harbour Authority wrote it, after they pocketed her sale money! (Sir Bertram was LIVID not to get his hands on the now deceased Harbourmaster responsible.)

Elizabeth is now back to her childhood home hauling farm produce and any visitor willing to get dirty, for she still insists on carrying a bit of grime as a testament to her labours. The Wellsworth Brickworks has reopened, on a much smaller scale, as a "living museum," and Elizabeth takes great joy in carrying clay and coal again. Her, Little Barford, and Sir Bertram are now tighter than they've ever been, and Sir Bertram is the only man allowed to polish her. He's a much more sedated force at the wheel than his father, she notes, and quite often!

We ARE amused to see her <3

#ttte #ttte elizabeth #ttte the fat director #topham hall railway #ttte little barford #ttte worldbuilding #ttte thomas #ttte oc: sir bertram hatt i #tw death

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startanewdream · 3 years

Text

The other marauder

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

Harry is thirteen when he asks who is Peter Pettigrew.

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

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

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

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

________________________

Harry is five the first time he asks about Wormtail.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That sight fills James with hatred beyond words.

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

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

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

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

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

James throws a shirt to Sirius after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'He was like you? A Gryff… Gryve…'

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

'Then he was a lion like you!'

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

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

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

James supposes he should have seen then. A rat.

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

'Where is he?'

'Gone'.

'Gone where?'

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

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

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

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

Harry frowns in concentration.

‘They are dreaming?’

‘Something like a very long dream, yes’.

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

James smiles softly and places a kiss on his forehead.

'You will', he assures.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry gives him the stuffed lion.

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

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

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

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

'Now, good night, Harry'.

'You forgot -'

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

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

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

____________________

Harry is thirteen when he asks who is Peter Pettigrew.

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

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

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

They don't have secrets with each other.

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

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

'Peter is alive'.

James blinks, for a wondrous second not understanding.

‘What Peter?’

‘Peter Pettigrew’.

‘That’s impossible!’

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

‘Who? Who saw him?’

‘Bertha Jorkins’.

James snorts nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sirius crosses his arms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Now?’

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

‘Panic’.

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

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

Sirius gives one of his bark-like laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What good will dementors do?’

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

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

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

‘He wouldn’t if -’

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

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

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

James chuckles against his will.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Only because you and Lily stopped too early’.

‘Remus would be the next godfather’.

‘You wouldn’t dare!’.

James laughs, without answering.

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

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

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

‘We should tell Harry’.

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

‘What does your heart tell you?’

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

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

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

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

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

‘And how do you feel about that?’

‘What do you mean?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The mistake is on James, not on Sirius.

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

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

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

‘Me too’.

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

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

‘James…’

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

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

‘It will always be my problem’.

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

James rolls his eyes.

‘You two have been talking behind my back?’

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

‘I am talking with you right now’.

Sirius raises his eyebrows.

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

James flushes.

‘It’s nothing. Just a silly hobby’.

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

James doesn’t answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You are never too old’.

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

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

‘You already said it downstairs’.

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

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

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

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

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

‘I think Sirius mentioned a map once’.

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

‘The Cloak’, Harry guesses.

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

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

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

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

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

Harry shakes his head in fake devastation.

‘You should have thought about your future son’.

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

‘What do you think happened to it?’

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

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

James sighs, looking back at Harry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry just blinks.

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

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

‘You know? How could you?’

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

Now it’s James’ turn to blink.

‘What else did you hear?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘We think so’, James agrees. ‘There will be extra protection in Hogwarts this year, so I ask you to just be equally extra careful, ok? Just be a good boy for once and stay inside the castle, or with people around you -’

‘I’m not scared’, Harry says.

‘I know you are not. But I want you to promise… don't go looking for Pettigrew'.

Harry opens his eyes, startled.

'Why would I go out looking for someone who wants to kill me?', he asks, and James just looks back at him, without answering. After a few seconds, Harry grins. 'Ok, I get it, I have a bad record'.

James lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

'You are notorious for acting first, think later. Hum, I wonder where that impulsive trace came from'.

Harry laughs.

'Mum, probably', he teases. Then his face softens. 'You don't need to worry, Dad. I am sure Sirius will catch him easily'.

'I trust Padfoot too'. There is a moment of silence. 'You still haven't promised'.

'Oh, you are right. I promise to behave this year'.

'Not too much, you can pull off a prank or two', James says, grinning, and Harry winks at him. 'Well, I think I will let you rest now. See if we can be on time this year in King's Cross'.

Harry flushes. They are always late because of him.

'Good night, Harry'.

'Night… hey, dad?'

'Yeah?'

'If you are a stag and Sirius is a dog, that friend of yours, Wormtail, was he an animagus too?'

James' throat is suddenly dry and he stops at the door to turn to Harry.

'Yeah, he was a rat', he whispers. 'Let me know if you see any strange rat around you, ok?'

'Isn't he… I mean, I thought he was dead'.

Harry says the last word in a low voice as if he feels guilty of remembering his father that his friend is dead.

Harry's eyes look so full of concern for him, so much like Lily's eyes, that he can hear her voice in his head, telling him to tell Harry the truth about Pettigrew and Wormtail, to explain to him what happened.

What James did.

How he didn't realize one of his best friends was a spy who sold James' family in exchange for power.

How he dared doubt Remus, while the real traitor was being cherished as a brave hero for keeping the most important secret.

How James would have died for Peter.

He can't face Harry. He can't tell him that truth.

'My friend is gone, James says at least. 'But you never know. Watch out for unknown rats, ok?'

Harry nods and James closes the door silently.

__________________

It’s not the first time the school year ends with James visiting the hospital wing in search of his son, but this is the first time he meets Sirius there.

‘Prongs -’, Sirius starts, looking guilty and trying to rise from the bed he was laying on, but James just shakes his head. Sirius’ head is all bandaged, and, from what Dumbledore told him, it was a nasty blow, along with many other cuts in his body.

Later, James will tease Sirius for being an old man that can’t even deal with a werewolf anymore, but now James is not in the mood.

‘Just rest, Padfoot’, he says dismissively. ‘Are you ok?’

‘I am, but - he was here and -’

‘I know what happened. Dumbledore told me’. James presses his lips for a moment. ‘Where is Harry?’

Sirius winces at the tone of James’ voice.

‘He was released early this morning, but James… Come on, it’s not his fault’.

‘Which part? Going after Wormtail or almost being kissed by a dementor?’

‘Everything’, Sirius says softly. ‘He saved more than one life yesterday, you know. You should be proud of him’.

‘I will be prouder when he ends a year without me needing to pay him a visit in the hospital wing. Now, do you know where he is?’

Sirius sighs.

‘Try the lake. I think he will be there with his thoughts after last night.

James wonders what is in the lake that would particularly attract Harry, but he just nods, leaving the infirmary.

The truth is he is mad. He woke up to a letter of Dumbledore, calling for him and Lily at their earliest convenience. James had recognized the tone of Dumbledore’s letter - it spoke of Harry getting into some adventure that he should not have.

Except he would not classify everything that had happened the night before as one of Harry’s adventures. It was much more a suicidal attempt because he could not fathom any good reason for his son to go after Peter Pettigrew - after promising he wouldn’t -, drawing Sirius’ attention, then Remus and, for some baffling reason, Snape.

And then, as if that was not enough, even though Harry had managed, with his friends and Sirius and Remus, to catch Peter, he had slipped out of their fingers and everyone was almost kissed by one hundred dementors.

‘How?’, Lily had asked, her face pale and troubled, grasping James’ hand with such force that it was stopping his blood circulation. ‘How did they escape the dementors?’

‘They had time’, Dumbledore had answered enigmatically.

James had no time for deciphering enigmas. He had left to check on Sirius and to find Harry. He needed to understand why Harry had put himself in so much danger, over and over, and what had made him go chase after Peter Pettigrew when he knew the danger Peter represented.

And it had been all for nothing. Wormtail is still at loose, still a danger, still unpunished for everything he did. And he got so close to Harry, whose life he once offered freely to Voldemort, even after assuring James he would protect it with his last breath…

The sun makes James blink blindly when he leaves the castle. It’s a beautiful hot day, and he sees a line of students going in the direction of Hogsmeade - it's probably the last trip of the year there.

With a guilt jolt, he thinks of revoking Harry's permission to go to Hogsmeade after there was a sight of Wormtail there. It turned out to be an unfounded rumour, but James had not been thinking straight.

He was never really able to when it involved Wormtail.

Harry had been furious at being forbidden from going to Hogsmeade and even Lily had not supported his decision then. Considering Harry had ended up meeting Wormtail at Hogwarts grounds, even if they went to the Shrieking Shack, he supposes he was on the wrong on that one.

He finds Harry easily after a few minutes, under the shadow of a tree with Ron and Hermione. They both raise when they see James approaching, and they each place a supporting hand on Harry's shoulder.

The sight fills James' heart with sudden warmth. He loves Ron and Hermione and he loves to watch them together. That trio has nothing to do with the Marauders, really - he can point out some similarities if he must, but they are altogether a different group.

And still James sees that, with Ron and Hermione, Harry has the kind of friendship that James himself found with Sirius and Remus. That friendship that will last a lifetime, through troubles and doubts.

His anger lessens a little.

Ron and Hermione whisper something to Harry and he sees his son nodding. They leave Harry, passing James with just a greeting with their heads. For some reason, Ron flushes when James waves back, looking strangely guilty.

'He thinks it's his fault', Harry explains, and James sees he was watching him from his place at the ground. Harry doesn’t raise. 'For not noticing what Scabbers was - well, that he wasn't a normal rat'.

'Nobody blames him', James whispers, sitting right next to Harry, who turns to the lake once more, seeming fixed on the sun shining in the water. 'Now - care to tell me what happened?'

'You are angry', Harry notes, with a sigh.

'Of course I am angry. I told you not to go after Pettigrew and what did you do?'

'I promised I wouldn't go after Pettigrew, but last night it wasn't him I was after. I was chasing Wormtail'.

James feels the jab, even though Harry doesn’t sound particularly accusing.

'Harry -'

'And he had Ron', Harry adds simply. 'He knew I would go after Ron - he told me you would have done the same for him'.

James breathes heavily.

'I would'.

'Why didn't you tell me the story, dad?', Harry asks, sounding hurt, and he turns to James. 'Why did you never tell me that Peter Pettigrew was Wormtail - and everything he did?'

James presses his lips for a moment.

'It wasn't your burden to bear. This was on me. It wasn't you that he betrayed, Harry'.

'I don't think he sees that way', Harry sighs. 'He tried… well, let me tell you the whole story, ok?'

Harry waits until James nods to begin his tale of the last night.

He tells James how he, Ron and Hermione had broken the rules to do company to Hagrid because Buckbeak would be executed and how they had found Scabbers hiding in there. They had tried to return to the castle, but Scabbers had shrieked and bit Ron and then -

'He turned into a man', Harry whispers. 'It was nothing like that photo on wanted posters, I didn't even recognize him right away…'

Harry tells how Pettigrew dragged Ron to under the Whomping Willow, how Hermione's cat had helped them find the secret tunnel and then they had ended up in the Shrieking Shack.

'He said he just wanted to talk, but he looked crazy like… he kept babbling and seeing shadows and he called me by your name more than once'.

'We do look alike', James notes dully. 'And then Sirius came?'

Harry sighs and he explains that Sirius and Remus had followed them.

'Wait, how did they know where you were?'

Harry looks guilty at that.

'Because Remus had the Marauder's Map'.

'What? He found it? He never -'

'He got from me', Harry admits, his voice dropping shame now. 'I… It came to me in December, after...' Harry stops and looks at him with deep sorrow. 'I am sorry, Dad, I really am, I should have told you sooner, but - let me go back at the beginning…'

Then Harry tells, sounding really remorseful, how he got the Marauder's Map (though he doesn’t share names, because Harry is loyal), how he was upset that James had forbidden him from going to Hogsmeade and how he had used the Map to go to Hogsmead secretly and then he had listened to the story of how the Potters had been betrayed by one of their closest friends.

And how Harry had understood how Wormtail, whose name was written on the Marauder's Map, had been responsible for almost killing them.

'That's why you were withdrawn at Christmas', James says, finally understanding why Harry had seemed upset - he'd thought it was only because of the Hogsmeade permission and because of the accident with Harry’s broom.

'I couldn't tell you what I had heard', murmurs Harry. 'And I knew you never liked to talk about it, so… well, anyway, I had the Map until April only -'

As Harry continues his story, James thinks he will have a serious conversation with Remus about friendship coming before being a professor (though Remus will say that as Harry's teacher he shouldn't also share a Marauder’s secret - it's complicated, he supposes).

Then Harry talks about how Sirius and Remus incarcerated Peter.

'He kept telling he wanted to tell his story, that he was sorry, so sorry', Harry whispers. 'And I asked them to let him, I thought… maybe there was some excuse, maybe we had understood all wrong somehow… And he tried to explain, Wormtail, he told your story… how you turn into animagi for Remus... how he was always your friend and how Voldemort had tricked him…'

James' hand acts on its own, raising to grab Harry's shoulder. Harry turns to him with a sad smile.

'I think they wanted to believe him', he whispers. 'Remus and Sirius, I mean. Pettigrew kept talking about being sorry for everything, how he never wanted to betray any of us, and - there was a moment where Sirius and Remus lowered their wands… then Snape came'.

And with evident annoyance, Harry tells how Snape had come and had belittled them for being stupid enough to fall for Pettigrew's fake weakness again and how Sirius and Snape had fought.

'Snape cast this nasty spell, he hit Sirius… then I disarmed Snape, except Ron and Hermione did too, and he fell unconscious'. Harry rolls his eyes, unconcerned. 'I saw Snape last night, he is not happy with me. Not that he ever is -'

'So you jinxed your professor', James notes, thinking he should sound stern, even if he doesn't really understand why Snape had to stick his nose on that story when it had nothing to do with him.

'Yeah', Harry blushes, at least not seeming proud of it. 'Then…'

He tells how they revived Sirius and how Sirius had actually said Snape was right. They shouldn't trust Peter again.

'Wormtail screamed like if Sirius was giving him a death sentence', Harry whispers, his voice distant. 'And it was… he begged them, and he begged me, he said… he said you would have understood. You would have forgiven him'.

James' grasp on Harry is harder, but Harry doesn't seem to notice.

'Sirius told me Peter would have watched me die, would have watched you die, without turning a hair because he valued his life more than any of ours. He accused Wormtail of selling information for Voldemort for at least one year before his downfall…'

'We always knew there was a spy', James says, forcing himself to release his hand on Harry's shoulder so he doesn’t hurt him without meaning to. 'But I could never believe it was one of them… any of them'.

'He admitted', Harry says, with a grimace, as if he wished he was saying something different to his father. 'He confessed he was the spy and that he had been almost ever since leaving school… and he asked what he should have done, with Voldemort gathering so much power'.

'He should have died', James whispers. 'Died rather than betraying his friends, because -'

' - that's what you would have done for him', Harry finishes for James, with a sigh. 'That's what Sirius said. Then Remus told him that he should have known… if Voldemort didn't kill him, they would. They raised their wands… and that's where I stopped them. I placed myself in front of their wands, in front of Wormtail’.

'You?', asks James, surprised. He'd thought sense had come to Sirius and Remus.

'I told them you wouldn't like them to become murderers because of him. I - I thought how you once saved Snape from Sirius' prank because you didn't want any of them to feel guilty of killing someone and how… even if you never liked Snape, there are some lines you don’t cross'. Harry pauses, looking more troubled than any fourteen-year-old should feel. 'Was I wrong?'

There is a desperate need for validation on Harry’s face, but James looks beyond his son, over the lake, and if he closes his eyes he can hear the sound of four teenagers sharing a carefree laugh at the edge of the lake.

There are many questions he would like an answer to, but the one he always comes back to is “why?”. Somehow, he doubts even Wormtail really knows why he did everything and why he betrayed his friends.

And if Wormtail was right in front of him - older and weaker and alone -, James likes to think he would have felt the same pity that Harry felt. In the end, Wormtail did not win in what mattered the most. Harry is alive.

And Prongs, Padfoot and Moony are still together.

'No, you did right', he whispers. 'I never thought if I wanted him dead or not - there was so much happening right after Voldemort fell, that the first time I thought about him was when Sirius came to tell us he was dead. I guess I was just so used to him being dead that I never wondered if... If I got the chance, if I had him at my mercy… I don't know. I like to think I would have done the same'.

He hears Harry breathing again at his side.

'I thought about the dementors and that if someone deserved Azkaban, it would be him', Harry explains. 'But then all hell broke loose’.

Then Harry finishes the story as James had heard already from Dumbledore, telling about how Remus forgot to drink his Wolfsbane Potion and how Pettigrew had escaped, but the dementors had been drawn to his presence anyway.

‘It was chaos’, Harry says in a low voice. ‘Sirius had drifted away to control Remus and it had worked because the werewolf ran to the forest, but Sirius was hurt -’

‘It was always a two-man job’, James notes. ‘Or two animals. With only one of us it was too difficult, and the werewolf was not used to being controlled after years of Wolfsbane Potion’.

Harry sighs.

‘And then the dementors came. I don’t think they cared who they were kissing, and I tried to cast the Patronus just as Uncle Moony taught me. But… I couldn’t’.

James feels goosebumps over his body, imagining the despair Harry must have felt then, with a hundred dementors upon him and Sirius - but he has no idea how they escaped.

‘And what happened? Snape -’

‘No, he was still knocked out… I was almost losing consciousness too, but then I saw…’ Harry smiles now, looking at James with nothing but love in his eyes. ‘ You. Prongs saved us’.

James blinks, confused. ‘I wasn’t there - what do you mean?’

Harry lifts his wand and points to the lake.

‘Expecto Patronum!’, he cries, and from the point of his wand, somehow brighter than the sun reflecting in the lake, comes out a beautiful stag, who runs to the lake before vanishing in a wisp of air.

A warm feeling spreads through James’ body and he stares at the place the Patronus vanished, somehow as lost for words as he felt the first time he ever saw Harry, just after he was born. He remembers looking at that tiny fragile baby, all wrapped in a blanket and crying out loud, knowing no words could explain what he was feeling then. They, he and Lily, had made that precious thing.

‘He is perfect’, was the first thing he said after several minutes, when Harry was quieter and Lily had helped him hold his son for the first time. James’ arms were trembling, but he managed to hold Harry, until his son slept in his arms.

James loves Harry ever since he knew of his existence, but there are moments where that love threatens to overwhelm and scare him a little too. He understands his love for his parents, for his friends and for Lily. But that paternal love for Harry - a mix of his desire that Harry gets to be free to live fully, but also a need of protecting him against all evil, so nothing can ever hurt him - he feels he will never be able to truly understand.

And now, seeing that Harry’s Patronus is his stag, it’s James, really, he feels that his desire of protecting Harry is being achieved. He will always be with Harry.

Harry begins talking again, explaining about Time-Turners and James refuses to think of the time paradox there, instead focusing on the satisfied smile that comes out on Harry’s face as he speaks of saving Buckbeak, and then how he accepted he couldn’t try to change time to catch Wormtail.

‘I couldn’t risk’, he says, distressed. ‘Hermione was right, if anyone saw us, if I changed anything - Sirius could be kissed’.

And so could Harry, but James knows Harry always thinks of others first. His son is too selfless sometimes, but as much as this worries James, it also fills him with a burning pride.

‘When the time came, I kept thinking you would appear, until - until I finally understood. I had seen myself - but also you too. And I thought about how you were always there for me, how much I wanted - I wanted to be like you’. Harry flushes and ignores the way James’ eyes are sparkling now. ‘Then Prongs came to life. I guess - all four Marauders were here last night’.

James hears once more the ghost of the laughs and he thinks how many times they had sat together around the lake, in September or in late spring, studying and joking and planning one of their pranks. Life at Hogwarts had been easier.

Except sometimes he wonders if Wormtail’s rupture began even at Hogwarts, when he felt left out or lesser than his friends, when he wasn’t as admired as James or as cherished as Sirius or as lovable as Remus. But this question is much like time paradoxes: James will get mad trying to understand it.

‘We never left’, James says at least. ‘The Marauders were made to stay at Hogwarts’.

Harry smiles softly.

‘Moony gave me the Marauder’s Map back. He says he doesn’t feel guilty now he is not my teacher any more’.

James sighs. He hasn’t seen Remus yet - he had left Hogwarts as soon as he could -, but Dumbledore had told him about his resignation after his secret had slipped out. This thought causes a wave of fury in him - it took Snape almost twenty years, but he finally managed to tell Remus’ secret, that git.

‘Can I keep it?’, Harry asks, and James can see the greed in his eyes, how much he wants to save the Map for himself.

The responsible part of him - the one that made him Head Boy and that drove him to hide instead of fight when Harry was being hunted by Voldemort - wants to get the Map back. But the other part - the one who helped create that Map, who is always thrilled for adventures and adrenaline - tells him it wouldn’t be fair. He’d want Harry to know Hogwarts’ secrets.

And Harry would get himself into trouble anyway.

‘It’s your legacy’, he says, making Harry beam. Lily will shake her head at the idea of Harry getting involved in even more confusion, but James will cover that for him.

At least this one. There are other aspects he can’t ignore.

‘Do you believe in prophecies?’, Harry asks suddenly, turning to him with a serious face, and James forces himself not to grimace.

‘Some people do’, he says vaguely, thinking back of that night Dumbledore had summoned him and Lily, as well as Frank and Alice, to tell them grave news. ‘I like to think we make our own destiny’.

Harry looks at him with a resolute expression, taking in James’ answer. As Lily says with half-amusement and half-exasperation, Harry always heeds his father’s words better than anyone else’s.

‘Good. Me too’. Harry sighs. ‘Dumbledore told me that someday I might be glad that I saved Wormtail’s life. That he is in debt with me, just as Snape is with you’.

James gives Harry a knowing look.

‘Let me guess, you want that debt as much as I want old Snape’s debt’.

‘I don’t want any connection with him’, agrees Harry. ‘He betrayed you. You - you could have died’.

‘I could. And even if I had, it would not change much, I hope’. He puts an arm around Harry’s shoulder, and Harry accepts his embrace. ‘Even if I were dead, I would always love and be with you’.

‘I am glad you are here’, Harry whispers, his voice breaking at the thought of his father dead, and he turns his face away from James.

James allows his son one moment of privacy, before grinning.

‘Let’s hope you still think so after this summer’, he says brightly. ‘As much as proud of you as I am, you did ignore me and went to Hogsmeade hidden, and you went after Wormtail - you are so grounded this summer’.

Harry groans.

‘Oh, yes. We will talk about your chores - and no complaints or I will even revoke us going to the Quidditch World Cup’.

Harry throws a scandalized look at James.

‘You wouldn’t!’

‘Well, you are right, I wouldn’t. No messing with Quidditch. But if you want to go to Hogsmeade next year, then I expect a lot of work - I’m thinking of the garden and cleaning the attic at least’.

‘You are the worst’, Harry moans, but James knows his son doesn’t really think so, and Harry knows he knows.

It works for both of them.

___________________

Harry is fourteen when Wormtail ties him to a gravestone, cuts him, takes his blood and helps to resurrect Voldemort.

That drives James very close to the edge.

Everything is stressful that summer. Harry is shut and brooding and so full of everything that for the first time in his life he actually screams madly at James and Lily, demanding to have answers even if he doesn’t even know what his questions are. Lily is worried about everything, her nerves worn thin, and the fact that they now have to live on Grimmauld Place until Harry returns to school doesn’t help her. Even Sirius, who James can always count on to be on the same page as him, is dark and sulking because he is away from work and locked inside his parent’s house most of the time.

James deals with all of them because he is good at helping other people and solving their problems. He lets Harry scream at him and he hugs him when Harry’s tired of screaming. He hears Lily’s worries and he helps her see everything will be alright. He takes Sirius off Grimmauld Place as much as he can, and if not, he tries to give him happier memories of that bloody house.

It’s his own problems that James can’t handle very well.

Lily sees through him but James doesn’t think she can understand this one. Peter was her friend, but not like he once was James, so Lily doesn’t feel particularly betrayed by the fact that it was Peter that bleed Harry and left him to die - again - despite the fact that Harry once saved his life.

That summer, finding Peter becomes an obsession for James. He can’t help but think that if he had tried to find him last year, maybe things could have been different. Every time James sees the faint scar on Harry’s arm, fury washes over him.

He searches through Sirius’ notes, talks with Kingsley and even tries to ask Snape if he knows something. Snape looks at him with disdain - nothing new there -, but for some reason, James believes when Snape tells him that whatever he’s been hiding, Wormtail is safe for now.

‘The Dark Lord despises him’, Snape explains coolly. ‘He knows your friend is a vermin. But he was useful, so your friend is being protected’.

Snape always likes to remember James that Peter was once James’ friend, probably enjoying how this hurts James, even though James never takes his bait. He learned a long time ago that ignoring Snape annoys him much more than answering back and, in any case, he has bigger problems than worrying about a school feud that he really thinks Snape should be over by now.

‘Let me know if you learn anything useful’, it’s all James says, and he ignores how Snape seems affronted at this.

‘He could be dead if your son hadn’t been so noble’, Snape whispers softly, and he leaves before James can say anything.

It doesn’t matter. Even if James sometimes agrees with him, he wouldn’t say anything. Most of the time he still believes Harry did the right thing. He doesn’t want a murder in Sirius or Remus’ consciousness.

On his own, James thinks he could deal with.

But despite his best efforts, he never gets any closer to finding Wormtail. A rat always knows how to hide.

Still, his obsession almost cost him Lily and Harry, and James promises to himself that one day he will find Wormtail, but never at the cost of what Peter almost took away from him once.

_________________

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

It’s in April. They know they shouldn’t, but James and Lily keep visiting Shell Cottage to assist Harry as much as they can before he leaves again, even though Harry isn’t asking for any assistance.

He looks more reserved than ever, vanishing for hours with Ron, Hermione and the goblin Griphook of all beings, and James has planned enough pranks in his life to know they are plotting something about that mysterious mission that Dumbledore left for them.

The one that Harry absolutely refused to tell his parents about.

James sees the impact of that mission on Harry. His son looks much older than his age, much graver and sorrowful than James would like. They all look like they've been through hell - they have cuts and they are thin and they look scared, but that trio refuses to speak of where they’ve been and what they’ve done.

‘Not yet’, Harry says, when James asks him. ‘When this is over, we will talk’.

James wonders when it will all be over, but he knows Harry wouldn’t answer that either. At some point, Harry grabbed the world, put it on his shoulder, and decided to walk carrying it on. He wishes that Harry would not give himself so much responsibility - or that he would share the weight at least.

On the last day of April, James is in the living room of Shell Cottage when he sees Harry, Ron and Hermione descending the stairs from another of their talks with Griphook. They all look more serious; while Hermione goes to check her things, Ron drifts off in search of his brother and Harry stops in front of James and Lily.

He looks first at his mother, and James sees they are in one of their moments of silent communication, that sharp understanding between them that James could never grasp really.

Lily sees more things in Harry's face than James ever could, and whatever she sees, it doesn't make her happy. James is about to question what this is about when Harry turns to him.

'Can we talk alone?'

Harry's face is grave, so James only nods. He raises, following Harry as he leaves the cottage, passing Dobby's grave and walking until they stand at the edge of a cliff overseeing the sea. He saw Harry in that spot before, looking all contemplative, but Harry never shared his thoughts with him.

It hurts a little to see his son so distant, as if Harry doesn't trust his father anymore, as much as it makes him satisfied that Harry is an adult now, able to make his own decisions.

He only wishes Harry got to be a kid before growing up.

Harry turns to him and now James can recognize the expression on his face. It's the same he had over the summer before he vanished at the wedding.

The face of someone who is leaving and doesn't know when - or if - will be back.

'We are leaving tomorrow', Harry announces and though James already expected to hear it, this sentence still fills him with despair and fear.

He can't ask where Harry will go and he can't ask when he is going to return. And he can't ask Harry to don't go. They had fought over this all summer (at least James had because Harry had just looked at him as if he had lived a thousand of lives and he had listened and looked sorrowful, but Harry had refused to say anything about his mission or to give up his idea of going).

His brave marvellous son is too stubborn sometimes.

So James ignores all his deep urge to grab Harry and run, choosing to respect his son, and asks:

'Will you be safe?'

'I think so', Harry answers and James loves and hates that he is being honest instead of promising something he can't control. 'We've planned this over and over'.

'Like you planned that break in the Ministry?'

Harry flushes at this, but he doesn't say anything. That adventure of his was in the newspaper, for Merlin's sake, and still, he refuses to say a word about why they did it or what they accomplished.

'Better, I hope', James says for him. 'Just tell me I won't hear about it in the newspaper again'.

Harry almost smiles at this; it's just a shadow, but it's a Marauder's smile, and it fills James' heart to the brim to know that Harry is still capable of it after everything he has been through.

Then Harry sighs and looks at the sea again.

'There is something I need to tell you before I leave'.

Just in case I don't return, Harry doesn't say but James hears it anyway.

'Pettigrew is dead'.

This is not what James expected to hear. He blinks, astonished, and hears as Harry explains mildly what happened at Malfoy Manor.

'His silver hand killed him?', James repeats in a low voice. 'The one Vol - You-Know-Who gave him?'

'Yeah. I think he always knew…'

'Of his debt?'

Harry shrugs.

'I don't think he minded that. It's the kind of thing he wouldn't believe in, like love and fairy tales or life debts'.

Harry speaks with a gloomy perspective of Voldemort's feeling that makes James shivers.

'I think he knew that some part of Wormtail regretted it. A tiny part, but it was enough'. Harry sighs heavily. 'We were struggling and I told him he owed me his life and… that you would be ashamed of him'.

James grabs Harry's arm, but Harry still looks far away.

'He didn't release me exactly, but for a moment, a fraction of a second, he hesitated. And then the hand turned against him. There was nothing we could do'.

'Of course not', James agrees absently, just following his instinct of comforting Harry. Then he registers what Harry said. 'You tried to save him'.

Harry doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to. James knows his son and, God bless him, his heart is always in the right place.

‘Why did you never talk to me about Wormtail?’, Harry asks, and James thinks that’s a question that has been bothering his son for many years now. ‘You told me once about Pettigrew, and you told me about Wormtail, but we never really talk about what he did’.

In the end, it did not matter because Harry had discovered in any case, but James feels suddenly ashamed.

‘I was embarrassed’, he says in a low voice. ‘Too ashamed to confess that everything that happened with us - your scar, the prophecy coming true - was because I put my faith in the wrong person, that I was too blind to believe my friend -’

‘It was not your fault, dad. You know, Remus once told me I was like you, too quick to consider dishonour to believe that a friend would betray me, and… he was right, but I’m proud of being like that. It’s better than living with fear. And if people don’t correspond to what we believe of them - that’s their loss. Not ours’.

Harry is looking at him with so much serenity that for an instant James feels more like the son than the father. In fact, now he sees, he realizes they are the same size now; there are differences of age and, of course, in the eyes, but they could be twins if seen from afar.

He wonders when Harry grew up so much and how much he really influenced his son. He hopes it was a lot, because he is really happy and proud of the man Harry is becoming.

James approaches him quietly, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder and for a moment they both stay looking at the ocean, watching the waves crash below them.

'Are you glad?', Harry asks in a whisper. 'That Peter died?'

James thinks of when catching Peter was a desperate need as if that somehow would solve all the problems that Peter had caused.

He remembers that fury he felt when Sirius told him Peter was still alive.

He remembers that trembling first-year boy in their dormitory, who wanted to be their friend, who looked up to James.

And he feels a longing for a time that was good, but he can't go back and he can't change what happened. Peter made his own choices, just as everyone else did.

And he had made the last choice of feeling guilty for a split-second and had died because of it.

But the fact is that Harry is here, alive. That's all he ever asked of Peter.

'I’m not glad', James whispers at least. 'But I’m also not sad. My friend was gone a long time ago'.

Harry gives him a long look and James thinks he doesn't agree totally with him, but Harry doesn't say anything. Lily would probably know what he means, and James never learned how to read Harry that well, but he doesn't mind.

Someday Harry will explain to him what he is thinking. Harry always tells him in the end.

'Be careful tomorrow', he says. 'And after that. Send us some news if you can - just to let us know…'

Let us know you're alive, James thinks, but he doesn't finish. Harry seems to understand, however. He nods and takes a deep breath, before turning to James with a hopeful smile.

‘Let’s go back for dinner?’

James almost says no. He thinks he can’t endure the feeling of sharing a meal with Harry and Lily and wondering if this will be the last meal they share; but the last time Harry went away, the feeling of not even remembering what was the last thing he’d said to Harry had been worse.

He wants a - not last, not ever the last one - dinner with Harry, and to hug him - not goodbye, but a good night - and to remember Harry that no matter what, they will see each other again. And, as Harry’s Patronus won’t let them forget, James is always with his son.

So James puts a brave smile on his face, messes with Harry’s hair in that way that makes Harry look pleasantly annoyed, and they return together to Shell Cottage.

#Jily Lives #eyes glistening #harry potter #james potter #peter pettigrew #Harry Potter and James Potter #they talk about Peter #but really it's all about James and Harry #james potter is a good friend #James Potter is a Good Parent #t: fanfiction

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seaside-stories · 3 years

Text

Macbeth-Theatre Kid AU

This is my Macbeth fanfic. It is an American High School Theatrea Kid AU. Characters: Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Banquo, Malcolm, Macduff, Lady Macduff, Siward, Seyton. Word Count: ~4500

Macbeth walked into the first day of school with a sense of pride. His junior year. Almost the oldest in the school. His last year he didn’t have to worry about college. He was going to have such a good time this year.

But of course not without his best friend Banquo. Macbeth spotted him next to a vending machine.

“Banquo!” Macbeth called. “Banquo! Over here!” Macbeth ran over and clapped Banquo on the shoulder. “Good to see you,” he said.

“Macbeth it’s only been two weeks since I last saw you,” Banquo said.

“I know, but I miss you.” Macbeth hugged Banquo. Banquo chuckled.

“Always so dramatic…” he mused. Macbeth let go of Banquo.

“How else would I get the lead in the school play?” he asked. Banquo gave him a knowing smile and the two of them started inside.

The duo walked down the hall asking about the other’s summer, even though they knew full well that they had spent the better part of it together. Suddenly, a door to Macbeth’s right opened and a pretty blonde girl exited the room.

“Lady!” He greeted the girl. “Walk with us.”

And she did. Lady was Macbeth’s sister. She was somehow always surprised when he acted like they hadn’t seen each other in a million years, even if they had only seen each other last a few hours ago.

“Hello, you two,” Lady greeted Banquo and Macbeth rather impatiently. “Where are you going?”

“To see what show we’re putting on, duh!” Macbeth exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Banquo rolled his eyes.

“You know auditions aren’t even until the end of September…” he said.

There was a large bulletin board at the end of the hall. It was covered in posters, both new and old. The actual cork had so many holes one might mistake it for a sponge. But lo and behold, right in front was a rather large poster for the show “Guys and Dolls”. The poster read:

Guys and Dolls Auditions

September 28, 29, and 30

Make an appointment today!

[email protected]

“Oh my god!” Macbeth yelled. “I love ‘Guys and Dolls’!”

“I know, me too,” Banquo said, not matching Macbeth’s enthusiasm. Lady side-eyed them both.

“If you like it so much, audition,” she said. Macbeth wouldn’t stop staring at the poster.

“I know I’m going to get Nathan Detroit! I just know it,” he said with confidence. Banquo nodded with a smile.

“Ms. Weird practically told you that you were going to get the part last June,” Banquo remembered. The three of them stared at the poster for just a bit longer before remembering that they had other classes, too.

…

The first day of school. As a junior, no less. Macduff had to admit, he was a bit excited. For school in general, but also for the school play. Last June, Ms. Weird, his best friend and stage manager, Malcolm and he had picked “Guys and Dolls” to perform this year.

What he wasn’t so excited about, however, was Macbeth. Macbeth was one of the most arrogant people Macduff had ever met. Macbeth thought the whole world should revolve around him and that everything should tailor to him. Sorry, kiddo, but the world just doesn’t work that way, Macduff thought.

Macduff walked into the Dunsinane Academy courtyard and caught Malcolm’s eye. Malcolm walked over to him.

“How was your summer?” Malcolm asked.

“Great, and yours?” Macduff deflected. His summer was horribly boring, to say the least.

“Oh, it was amazing. I went to this sleepaway camp that was a lot of fun. They have a Christmas program too for families. I think I’ll go.” Malcolm said.

“Don’t go for too long,” Macduff warned. “I don’t want to be alone with Macbeth while you’re gone.”

Malcolm’s happy demeanor quickly changed after Macbeth was brought up.

“Oh, right. I forgot how much you don’t like him,” he said.

It was truly a wonder how Malcolm could forget after Macduff had nearly been suspended last year for getting in a fistfight with Macbeth.

“It’s alright,” Macduff said. “I’ll be okay. Let’s get to class before we’re late.”

…

Late August turned into Early September turned into almost October. Leaves were falling off trees and some ambitious people began putting out Halloween decorations. Macbeth’s family was one of those families. They had lots of big, gaudy decorations. But there was something more important than the rapid arrival of Halloween: auditions.

Macbeth wanted to get his audition over with quickly so he could be cast, so he made his appointment for the 28th of September. Banquo’s wasn’t until the 29th.

He had prepared “Wait for it” from Hamilton as his audition piece. Ms. Weird had thrown a fit last time someone tried to audition with a pop song.

At Dunsinane, they were lucky enough to have a small black box theatre in which rehearsals and auditions could be held. Macbeth opened the door at exactly 3:24.

“Macbeth? Is that you?” Ms. Weird called from out of sight.

“‘Tis I!” Macbeth said in a loud voice. “The great Macbeth!” He ventured farther into the room and found Ms. Weird sitting behind a desk with her back to the door.

“Are you ready to begin?” She asked. “You have your song and scenes?”

Macbeth nodded. The audition commenced.

“So? How’d it go?” came Banquo’s voice over the phone.

“I think it went very well,” Macbeth said. “Ms. Weird practically told me I’d get the lead.”

“What did she say?”

“She said ‘Very well done, Macbeth. I should think that you will get a sizable role this year!’”

“That’s great!”

“I know!”

…

Macduff walked into Ms. Weird’s black box theatre. It was arguably one of his favorite rooms in the whole school.

“Hey, Ms. Weird,” Macduff greeted.

“Macduff! Wonderful timing. Malcolm and I were just going to get started on casting.” Ms. Weird indicated to her left, where Malcolm was sitting with a computer in his lap.

“Hold on, hold on,” Malcolm requested. “A few more minutes, please. I am no tech genius over here.”

“They’ve been recorded? I’ve always wanted permanent documentation of complete showoffs!” Macduff said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Once Malcolm had finally figured out how to work the video program, the three of them huddled around the laptop to watch the videos.

There was one that stood out to Macduff: A senior called Duncan Inverness. Macduff told Malcolm so, and Malcolm agreed.

“Ms. Weird? What do you think about Duncan?” Malcolm asked. Ms. Weird took a moment to consider him before giving her answer.

“He seems great! He’s a senior, right?” she asked. Macduff and Malcolm nodded in agreement. “Good. We can cast him as Nathan Detroit.”

…

The cast list went up on the morning of October 2nd. And that was the day Macbeth’s life was ruined.

GUYS AND DOLLS CAST LIST:

Nathan Detroit - Duncan Inverness

Miss Adelaide - Seyton

Sarah Brown - Lucy Duff

Sky Masterson - Donalbain Inverness

Nicely-Nicely Johnson - Macbeth

Macbeth didn’t read any further than that. He was utterly devastated. He wanted to scream and shout and break some things. How is this possible? Macbeth wondered. Ms. Weird practically told me I was going to get a lead! Nicely-Nicely Johnson? What kind of a role is that?

“Hey! I got Harry the Horse!” Banquo’s voice ripped Macbeth out of his thoughts. “And you got Nicely-Nicely Johnson! Awesome! I love his part in “Sit Down, You’re Rocking the Boat.” Macbeth stumbled past him, down the hall.

“I need to find Lady,” he mumbled, dazed.

Lady was outside, under a tree, completely oblivious to Macbeth’s devastation.

“Lady!” Macbeth called. “Lady!”

“What do you want,” Lady said, exasperated. She marked her book with her thumb and looked up and him expectantly.

“Lady, I got Nicely-Nicely Johnson,” Macbeth explained. Lady did not see what was wrong.

“That’s great!” She said. “Doesn’t he have a solo song?”

“That’s not the point!” Macbeth lamented. He collapsed on the ground next to Lady and buried his face in his hands.

“Dear God,” Lady swore. “If you want that lead, why don’t you do something about it. I mean, you said you’d do anything just last night, didn’t you?”

Macbeth looked up at her.

“I did say that, yes,” Macbeth agreed. Lady looked at him with a sly look. Macbeth returned it with a blank one. It was a few moments before he realized what she was implying. Then a crafty smile took over his features.

That night Macbeth sped through his homework even faster than usual. Then, he opened his computer and began to type furiously. Google, Facebook, Dunsinane Academy website, the city newspaper, anywhere Macbeth thought he could find dirt on Duncan. He was going to get that role no matter what it took.

…

Macduff saw Duncan walking in the opposite direction from him. He seemed to be going somewhere in a hurry.

“Hi, Duncan,” Macduff greeted. Duncan threw him a dirty look and sped past him. Macduff was confused--he got the lead part! What did he have to be upset at him about?

Macduff opened the door and stepped inside. There he saw Macbeth, with a smug look on his face. His friend Banquo stood next to him with a pained smile on his face.

“I’m so happy for you,” Banquo said, sounding insincere.

Macduff turned to see what the two boys were looking at. There he saw Ms. Weird erasing Duncan’s name on the whiteboard as Nathan Detroit, and rewriting Macbeth’s name.

No.

This cannot be happening.

Macduff tried to play it cool, and not freak out. He wanted to keep his position as set designer, after all.

“What’s going on?” he asked, even though he knew full well what was going on.

“Macbeth found some rather...unsavory information regarding Duncan,” Ms. Weird explained. “As a reward, I agreed to recast him. He was going to be our second choice, after all.”

Macduff had forgotten about that. He had only agreed to let Macbeth be the secret understudy because they had no one else who had enough talent to do it. Something felt wrong about this though…

“What did Duncan do that we had to cut him?” Macduff asked.

Macbeth looked even smugger than before (if that was even possible).

“I heard that he cheated on his Physics final last year. And, I figured that Ms. Weird would want to know,” he said. He pointed to a handwritten sign on the door that read “We support academic integrity in this classroom”.

Macduff recalled when this sign was put up. It had been because a few actors had been cheating on their tests. The administration had asked Ms. Weird to cut them from the show. It hadn’t hurt the production much since those actors were in the ensemble, but since then academic integrity had been a very serious topic in Ms. Weird’s classroom.

“Duncan’s not the type…” Macduff mused.

“No, but he did,” Ms. Weird said seriously.

Macduff shook his head and sighed. He was sorry to see Duncan go. He looked up at Macbeth, to see if he showed any sign of remorse at all, but he was still smiling brightly, oblivious to the fact that he probably cost Duncan his theatrical future.

…

Despite his smug demeanor, Macbeth was terrified. Duncan had not actually cheated on his physics final last year. What really happened was that he took a practice test with notes. The test was not meant to be open book, so his teacher let it slide with a few docked points. All Macbeth had to do was fudge a few details and bing bang boom, Duncan was cut and Macbeth was now the lead.

Macduff seemed less than thrilled about this, but Macbeth wasn’t miffed. He knew that Macduff didn’t like him much anyway.

Malcolm came in behind Macduff and pushed past him.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Macduff asked him.

“I just saw Duncan throwing rocks and screaming outside,” Malcolm said. “What’s that all about?” Macduff thew Macbeth a cool look.

“I’ll let Macbeth explain,” he said.

Macbeth was getting sick of explaining this more than once. He wasn’t prepared to have to tell everyone who came in the door.

“Duncan violated the academic integrity rule so he was cut,” Macbeth said simply. Banquo nodded behind him.

Malcolm threw up his hands.

“Are you serious?” he shouted. “This can’t be true.” Malcolm stabbed an accusatory finger at Macbeth. He left in a huff, muttering to himself. Macduff put his bag down and ran after him.

“So, when’s the first rehearsal?” Macbeth asked.

…

Macduff sped down the hall after Malcolm.

“Malcolm! Hold on!” Macduff shouted. Malcolm kept speed walking until he found the room he was looking for. He threw the door open and slammed it behind him. Macduff followed him inside.

“Malcolm?” Macduff asked the room. The two of them were alone. All of the desks were stacked at the back of the classroom, the walls were barren, and the lights were off. The classroom appeared to be unused, but even so, it was open.

Macduff caught sight of Malcolm as he was throwing a script at the wall. He threw it with force and papers exploded everywhere. Malcolm covered his face with his hands.

“It was supposed to go well this year,” He all but sobbed.

“Hey,” Macduff said consolingly, setting aside his own anger for a moment. “It’ll be just fine, okay? We can fix it. We’ll figure it out.”

The two of them sat on the floor for a few minutes, not saying a word, before picking up the script, which was quite a few pages, and heading to the woodshop to begin working on the set.

…

Macduff and Malcolm didn’t come back that day. Banquo and Macbeth sat together while Macbeth highlighted all of his new lines. Banquo, who had been in the ensemble before, took on Macbeth’s previous role as Nicely-Nicely Johnson.

“I love his song,” Banquo had said.

“I know, Banquo,” Macbeth said.

When the final bell rang at the end of the day, Macbeth was anxious to find Lady. He had to confide his troubles in her.

“Lady,” he said. “Are you sure this was the right thing to do? I mean, Malcolm and Macduff are really upset. They’re probably going to bust me!”

“It’ll be fine, Macbeth. You’re going to seem suspicious. You got this far, just stay on the down-low.” Lady told him. Macbeth took a breath of confidence and stool taller than he had before. He put on a smile and escorted Lady out of the school.

Later that evening, Banquo called. This wasn’t uncommon, so Macbeth had no qualms about answering.

“Macbeth?” Banquo asked.

“What’s going on?” Macbeth replied.

“Macbeth, I feel like something fishy is going on,” Banquo confessed.

“Like what?” Macbeth was getting nervous.

“Like, in the show.”

“You mean how Nathan and Adelaide never get married? I know, it’s so weird.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean, then?”

“I mean...I don’t mean to say that you’re a liar or something...but Macduff was right, I think. Duncan isn’t the type to do something like that. It feels wrong to have ruined him like that. You know?”

Macbeth felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him.

“No, I don’t know. I’ll see you tomorrow, Banquo,” he said coldly.

“Macbeth, wait-”

Macbeth ended the call.

…

That day after school Macduff went home with Malcolm. They had started planning out the set for the show that afternoon but could hardly focus, so they put it off until later.

Later is here.

Macduff scribbled an idea down in his notebook.

“I was thinking we could do something like this,” he showed Malcolm. “It could either be a drawing on plywood or a drop or something but I don’t think we should have any other drops.” Malcolm nodded.

“That looks cool. You can draw it on or something and then we can get some ensemble people to paint it. For techie points.” Malcolm said.

“Yeah,” Macduff agreed.

The design was a cartoonish New York skyline. Windows were yellow, the sky was navy with white stars, and each building had a long spire.

“Okay, what else?” Malcolm asked. Macduff consulted his notebook.

“Shop facades, The mission, something for Havana, a platform for the Hot Box, and so, so many other things.” Macduff said, burying his face in Malcolm’s bed.

“We can draw up some plans and delegate this stuff to the newbies. Ms. Weird will show them how to do it.” Malcolm told Macduff.

“Are you sure?” Macduff asked.

“Yes,” Malcolm said with determination. “Because while they’re doing that, we are going to sabotage Macbeth.”

…

Macbeth was enjoying his time at the top. He truly was. But it was not without this horrible guilt following him wherever he went. He was avoiding Banquo today--partially because Banquo was also avoiding him. But also…

There were a few people in Ms. Weird’s room when Macbeth got there. It was lunch hour, after all.

“Ms. Weird?” Macbeth asked with trepidation.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Ms. Weird acknowledged him. Macbeth could hardly bring himself to say the words. But he needed this assurance.

“I caught Banquo cheating on an important project last night.”

Ms. Weird looked down at the table and sighed before looking back up at Macbeth.

“Thank you for telling me, dear,” she said. She turned around and began editing the cast list on the whiteboard again.

“Macduff and Malcolm are going to have my head on a plate…” Macbeth could hear her muttering. Me too, Macbeth thought. He left quickly to find Lady. He figured she could give him some respite before he had to face Banquo.

But when has Macbeth ever been that lucky? As he was leaving, Banquo came through the front doors of the school building.

“Hey,” Macbeth tried. Banquo sped past him into Ms. Weird’s room. It was only a few moments before he came storming back out again. Banquo slammed his shoulder against Macbeth’s on his way back outside. Macbeth was alone in the hallway.

Macbeth found Lady sitting alone in a secluded corner of the school yard. When he sat down next to her, she startled.

“Are you okay?” Macbeth asked her.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Lady said very unconvincinly.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just don’t want to see certain people right now.”

“Oh, should I leave?”

“No.” Lady put her hand on Macbeth’s thigh. “You can stay.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Banquo got cut today,” Macbeth said.

“What? Why?” Lady demanded.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” Macbeth regretted telling her anything.

“I swear to god, Macbeth, if this was your fault I’ll kill you. Duncan, already hates me because I’m your sister. Why don’t you keep adding people to his army, huh?” Lady berated him. Macbeth was at a loss. There was no way he could come out of this on top unless he let Lady take the fall. Which,

“You seem to be handling it pretty well,” Macbeth observed.

Lady slapped him in the face.

“I changed my mind. Go away.”

Macbeth obeyed and left quickly. As he approached the school doors he saw Banquo leaving out of the corner of his eye. Macbeth decided to go back to Ms. Weird’s room.

Ms. Weird wasn’t there when Macbeth arrived. He decided to sit on the long table at the front of the room.

Macbeth noticed a magic 8 ball sitting near the white board. He decided to ask a few questions.

“Will I become rich and famous?” he asked.

Don’t count on it.

“Okay…” Macbeth was a bit disappointed. He decided to ask some more questions.

“Will Guys and Dolls be the best Dunsinane production yet?”

As I see it, yes.

“Sweet!” Then he remembered Macduff and Malcolm.

“What about Malcolm and Macduff?” He asked.

Concentrate and ask again.

Right, Macbeth thought. I can’t be vague.

“Will Malcolm and Macduff hinder my greatness?”

Better not tell you now.

“Fine, be like that.” Macbeth said and set the 8 ball down.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a girl walked in. Macbeth recognized her as Maduff’s younger sister.

“Is Ms. Weird here?” she asked Macbeth.

“No, sweetheart, she isn’t,” Macbeth said, an idea forming. He had a bad feeling about Macduff and Malcolm, and he knew exactly what to do about it.

…

Malcolm and Macduff sat down next to each other in their next class, their fingers intertwined. They both gave each other a look of knowing: this was their last respite before rehearsal today. It was not the first, but they were nowhere near their last. Malcolm and Macduff were not excited, to say the least.

After class, Macduff and Malcolm split up, albeit begrudgingly. Malcolm had to supervise the rehearsal and answer any stupid questions the actors undoubtably had, while Macduff was taking Siward and a few other freshmen to the woodshop to work on the set. One of those freshmen was supposed to be his sister, but she was not here.

“Has anyone seen my sister today?” Macduff asked the group. He was sure he saw her going to first period this morning but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

They all shook their heads no. Let me ask Malcolm if she’s in Ms. Weird’s room, Macduff thought. He took out his phone.

Macduff: hey is my sister near you

Malcolm: no why

Macduff: i cant find her

Malcolm: so why don't you text her

What a great idea. Why hadn’t Macduff thought of it before? Macduff opted to give her a call. It rang a few times before she picked up.

“Hello?” came a shaky voice.

“Hey,” Macduff greeted. “Where are you?” All Macduff could hear was the sound of ragged breathing for a few moments.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you when I get home. Oh, and by the way, don’t try to get me back while that group of jerk-wads are still there,” Macduff’s sister said through quiet sobs.

“What jerk-wads?” Macduff asked nobody, since the call had ended. Macduff knew everyone on the cast, and they were all so friendly and kind, except…

“I need to go,” Macduff told the freshmen. “You all can go home.”

…

Macbeth was running lines with Seyton when Macduff burst in. He had a determined glint in his eye. Malcolm walked up to him and they started chatting animatedly. Macbeth was having trouble focusing on the scene.

Macduff and Malcolm both looked back at Macbeth before leaving the room, leaving Macbeth with a sinking feeling.

Once he was sure Macduff and Malcolm wouldn’t come back, Macbeth grabbed the 8 ball again and shook it.

“Are Macduff and Malcolm plotting against me?” Macbeth asked it.

Outlook not so good.

This put Macbeth somewhat at ease. The rehearsal continued as usual. Afterward, Macbeth went home with no qualms about Malcolm and Macduff.

…

His first mistake, arguably. Macduff had seen Macbeth shaking the 8 ball through the little window in the door.

“What are you looking at?” Malcolm had asked.

“Macbeth is consulting an 8 ball,” Macduff had said, chuckling.

He and Malcolm came up with a plan to get Macbeth expelled from the theatre program: confront him. It was so simple they almost didn’t consider it.

“Really? Who’s gonna believe us? Who’s gonna prove him wrong?” Macduff had asked.

“Duncan, and Banquo. And your sister,” Malcolm had reassured him.

“And after this ordeal is all over?”

“We’ll restore people’s old roles. And continue as normal.”

They set the date for Friday. That meant they had Wednesday and Thursday to talk to Banquo and Duncan and to formulate some backup plans. They would not leave for Christmas break before this was set right.

…

Macbeth walked into school on Friday morning nervous. He had felt confident on Wednesday afternoon and on Thursday, but walking into school was giving him second thoughts. He saw Duncan and some of his friends hanging out together, side-eying Macbeth. Banquo eyed Macbeth from afar and Macduff’s sister had a strange glint in her eye.

On Thursday evening, Lady came down with a fever. Their parents wouldn’t let her come to school. Macbeth was alone and paranoid.

Macbeth walked from class to class trying to be as big and intimidating as possible, to hide his fear. He would not let these people, who were arguably lesser than him, know that he wanted to become as small and invisible as possible.

Dread could not even begin to describe what Macbeth felt when he approached Ms. Weird’s room that afternoon. He pushed open the door with immense trepidation. Seyton and Siward were chatting in the corner, but there was no one else there.

Macbeth snuck behind Ms. Weird’s desk and grabbed the magic 8 ball one last time.

“Will I perform in the show this winter?” Macbeth asked. A direct question has to work, he thought.

The 8 ball landed on the tip between two responses. Macbeth shook it again.

Ask again later.

At that moment, Malcolm pushed the door open, followed by Macduff, his sister, Banquo, Duncan, Ms. Weird, and Mr. Birnham, the principal.

“Hello, Macbeth. Nice to see you,” Macduff greeted Macbeth with a cool tone. Macbeth gave a small wave.

“Macbeth,” Mr. Birnham said. “Have a seat. Please.”

Macbeth sat and Macbeth listened. He listened as Mr. Birnham recounted what had happened in the last two weeks. Macbeth’s peers nodded along with Mr. Birnham and gave each other premature celebratory smiles.

“Now, you understand that you will not be able to participate in the Dunsinane Theatre Program anymore, yes?” Mr. Birnham asked.

“What?” Macbeth exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous!”

“This is what you get for stepping on your friends,” Banquo said.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Macduff gave Banquo a high five.

Macbeth stood and walked toward the door. He took one last look at Ms. Weird’s classroom--which he would never see again--before leaving to go home. Macbeth just barely saw Ms. Weird editing the cast list on the whiteboard out of the corner of his eye.

…

The door closed quietly. The people in the room just stared at it for a moment. Then, Malcolm enveloped Macduff in a bone-crushing hug.

“Finally, we can get on with the show!” he exclaimed.

Someone started playing Green Day’s “Good Riddance”, and someone else put a box of cookies on Ms. Weird’s desk. The celebration was well under way.

It was a few days before Christmas vacation was supposed to begin. Dunsinane’s production of Guys and Dolls was about to close.

Malcolm stood in the wings. Macduff was in the booth. The actors were ready for the show to begin.

“Cue 1, stand by…” Malcolm said.

“Standing by…”Macduff responded.

The lights in the house went down.

“Cue 1, go.”

Macduff pressed the play button in the program. The music started.

“I’ve got the horse right here! His name is Paul Revere…” The actor began. This was going to be the best Dunsinane Production in a while.

#I really thought this would be longer #I was writing this for like 4 days #thats kind of disappointing #macbeth fic #fanfic

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shuturxface · 4 years

Text

Quarantine has, completely out of no where, compelled me to re-read The Life and Times. I finished three days ago and yes I’m still crying. BUT! to get my emotions out I wrote something of a “review”. It’s really just my thoughts about everything. No one asked but I’m posting it anyway.

Please enjoy, it’s below. Be warned, there are *spoilers*:

Thoughts and Musings:

I don’t particularly know why I’ve been so affected by The Life and Times this go around. I’ve always loved it, but I don’t think I’ve ever cried when Alice Griffiths (now Longbottom) tells Lily that she’s spontaneously marrying Frank Longbottom. And I also don’t think that I’ve ever felt more than fondness towards Marlene Price and Adam Mckinnon. And, I’ve always disliked Carlotta Meloni (especially during the summer and 7thyear), but I never actually hated her character. All until now. The first time I read The Life and Times, I really, really enjoyed it and appreciated the characters and the plot and the realism– like, come on, of course they’re not going to make out in the middle of an escape! However, I was, admittedly, disappointed with the lack of James/Lily action. Not that it was scarce, there certainly was a lot! But this time around, I finally realized why Jewels wrote it in that way. Lily disliked James – possibly resented him – for five years, and more strongly much more recently (I expect her unsavory opinions of him were most prominent during 5thyear, what with his excessive exclamations of “go on a date with me, Evans”). Of course, it’s going to take more than a few weeks to erase that! And it’s not like it could take less time, because, realistically, why would Lily want to spend that much more time with James if she wasn’t fond of him, and if they kept fighting. Honestly, their development as friends is much more interesting, and it shows an in-depth thought processes of fleshing out the characters. I am thoroughly moved by the fact that it doesn’t happen over-night or within a few days.

I’ve also read complaints about how James Potter is acting disinterested in Lily. To them I say: did you even read the goddamnstory?! Did you pass over the parts where he watches her when she’s not looking, and the parts where he is upset with himself for how strongly he feels about her?! If James Potter is anything, he is not an idiot (however idiotic he may act sometimes). From what the (actual HP) books show, James was interested in Lily and kept asking her out in their 5thyear. If I recall correctly, it was implied that he may have done so years prior. It is also stated, by Sirius Black, that they got together in 7thyear. Once again, that transformation from enemies to lovers is not going to happen overnight, and is definitely not going to happen if James Potter kept overtly obsessing over her in 6thyear. Also (!) there is a perfectly reasonable explanation Jewels gives us for why he acted this way: he wanted to get over her. Not only does this prove that he liked her deeply, not just superficially, but also that he got the message. He would have been truly, very thick had he not.

But back to the matter at hand. For some reason, this time around (I don’t remember, possibly third), I’ve been thoroughly engrossed and cried at different intervals of the story more so than before. I sobbed at the end of chapter 30, “The Worst Day Ever” in which it followed each character (Carlotta, Marlene, Donna, Mary, and Lily) on September 1st. I cried terribly during the last two chapters with the attack on the M.F.P. conference – the tension and the unknowing, and worst of all, the death of Sam Dearborn. Quickly, a word about Sam. Somehow, through so few chapters, Jewels created such a lovable character (limited in “screen time”) that his death (and Lily and James’ reaction to it) caused me to cry on multiple occasions. Jewels was able to capture the anguish of her characters so well, that for a moment I forgot it was a story at all and felt it myself. I cried when Sirius Black told Lily Evans that she “fit” with the Marauders, after she asked him why he was so sure she and James belonged together. I have absolutely no idea how she managed to utterly take me apart in the span of 3 days and 36 chapters, but no fanfiction has been able to do that.

I am fully in awe of what Jewels has created – The Life and Times is a work of art, capturing the 1970s in the Wizarding World perfectly. Would I like to see how each James and Lily, how Adam and Marlene, Mary and Reginald get together? No, I would love it. Am I still curious of how on earth all those 87 wizards and witches were murdered at the Magic For Peace convention, leaving no survivors? No, I’m haunted by it. And while there are parts that are frustrating to read (some sexist and misogynistic parts, especially from a few Ravenclaws are particularly uncomfortable), I also think she delivers an accurate representation of the 70s, which were much less politically correct that the world is today. She is not even encouraging this behavior because it’s all made by unlikeable “villainous” characters – not particularly evil, but definitely malicious.

Because Jewels created this story so magnificently, only she knew where it was headed and how it would play out. She wrote it so uniquely, using quick dialogue that made me feel that I was actually there. Phrasing her syntax in such a way that her descriptions were musical and poetic and completely relatable. Her chapter structures kept me on my toes, each one with its own unique flavor, yet all of them unified, flowing from one to the other perfectly.

Not only that, she created characters with strong, redeeming qualities as well as true, trying weaknesses. Lily Evans: she created Lily to be a kind individual that always sought to see the good in others, as J.K. Rowling told us she was. But she also made Lily imaginative and contemplative and romantic and strong, and, yes, sorrowful, fearful, angry, and (most importantly, if you ask me) not willing to discuss her real feelings with anyone, thus slightly hypocritical. James Potter: Jewels created James to be loyal, clever, more-than-slightly arrogant, humorous, brave, and even compassionate. But she also made him brooding, impulsive, hot headed, and many times, a prick. I could go on, but the main point is this: Jewels created complex characters. She didn’t make a wondrous, unfailingly kind Lily (if she were, why did she and James butt heads so viciously?), or a comical, lovesick James, a cheeky, brazen Sirius, a quiet, sentimental Remus, a quivering Pettigrew, or a moody, jealous Snape (yes, even he had more to him than this – drive and hunger to prove himself). Jewels created characters with depth! Characters that made mistakes and don’t just immediately learn from them. Hell, she made teenage characters in a fanfiction that didn’t ultimately think with their primary sex organ – characters that were able to see that there were more important things happening besides who’s shagging who. Of course, there were characters that were interested in this, but they’re not the type of people that would go to a protest at the Ministry of Magic (and, obviously, this just strengthens the certainty that James and Lily truly belong together). Essentially, Jewels created characters that are sometimes hard to like. She showed us real emotions and feelings and struggles like a proper novel. She went further than an exploration of two people’s love life and gave contextual reasons to their coming together, and why their relationship was so important in the greater scheme of Harry Potter. She created multiple storylines, intricately woven together, incorporating briefly mentioned characters in the Harry Potter series and giving them backstory and personalities. Jewels created a world within J.K. Rowling’s universe with complex political turmoil.

I fully and strongly admire the work and dedication that Jewels put into The Life and Times. I feel that it’s wishful thinking that she might return to this story after all these years (has it really been seven already?!), but I can’t help but wish all the same. I do understand because life does have a habit of getting in the way and people move on. I’m truly grateful for Jewels and what she gave to the world. No other fanfiction will ever evoke the feelings that The Life and Times does. No matter the emotional strife this story gives me, I will always be grateful, and it will always be my favorite. Thank you, Jewels.

#tlat #the life and times #jewels5 #Lily Evans #James Potter #jily #jily fanfiction #jily fandom #i literally love this story so much #Harry Potter #james x lily #limes #hp fanfic #hp fandom

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seiin-translations · 3 years

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2.43 S1 Chapter 2.3 - Dracula and Princess Briar Rose

3. GIRL’S MIND

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Seiin High School was located on a slope at the foot of a mountain, and it took twenty minutes to walk there from the shopping district in front of Nanafu Station. That was why the height difference between the school building and other facilities was so severe. The mountain behind the school building was flattened, and the first sports ground and the slightly narrower second sports ground were arranged like terraced fields, and the outdoors court was on the slope that ran beside those two grounds. That slope was about a hundred meters long, and it was the perfect course for hill running.

The dirt road, which had absorbed the sweat and curses and vomit from thousands of athletes since founding and was trampled down firmly by them, was bone dry from being exposed to the scorching September sun. The regulars were holding game-centered finishing practice for the Spring Inter-High volleyball qualifiers coming up later this month, so during that time, we first-years were assigned to do basic strength training. Our second-year senpais who weren’t on the bench were in charge of it, but these second-years were far stricter than the third-year captains.

“Ayano! Who said you can rest!? Get up and run!”

Our senpais’ angry voice flew at Ayano, who was sitting down halfway up the slope. Somehow, she managed to get up and unsteadily meandering up to where we were, before covering her mouth with an “Urp” and sinking down again. Without giving Ayano time to rest, they scolded, “If everyone’s here, then go down now!” We didn’t even have the energy to complain and came down the slope with our faces hanging down like exhausted slaves. Ayano, standing up while wheezing, was on the verge of tears. Ah, she might throw up… When I saw that, I felt like I was about to puke too, so I decided to not to look back at her.

I didn’t have it in me to reach out my hand today. In terms of physical strength, I was just as exhausted as Ayano, but it was just that I refused to sit down out of pride. I felt gross. My hips felt heavy. Sometimes my vision would suddenly go red and black. I think…that is coming. It was supposed to be still around four days away, so I got careless. Once I became possessed by that thought, I couldn’t stop worrying about the inside of my underwear. How many more times did I have to go up? Do I wait until club activities were finished? What would I do if I run to the washrooms right after and it really comes?

…It was no good. I had to tell them.

“Senpai…”

I called out to my senpais in a fidgety whisper, which was startling for me. Though it shouldn’t be something embarrassing because I saw other girls coming forward about it from time to time, I had to muster up all my mental strength to broach that topic.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

When I told them, I was unexpectedly readily allowed to leave for a short period. Apparently I looked sicker than I felt. Because I, who never whined like Ayano did, told them about it with a ghastly pale face, and it actually made my senpais panic instead.

I was strangely embarrassed about that certain time of the month that every girl had, and even in places where there were only girls, I was afraid to talk about it. Being afflicted with heavy menstrual pains didn’t suit a masculine girl like me if I do say so myself, and I felt like if people knew, they would judge me or be put off.

“Long hair doesn’t suit Ibara-chan.” —I felt like I was letting that kid down, the one who determined my character with an innocent smile. They would probably be picturesque when they fell asleep with menstrual cramps because they were so small, dainty, and fragile.

My motto was to stand up straight and walk with big steps, but I was currently slouching slightly and my stride naturally narrowed. While praying that I didn’t run into anyone, I hurried to the club room building. I was able to get out of club activities, but my crisis hadn’t actually gone away. I recalled not bringing my pouch with me because I didn’t think it was coming yet.

It would be bad if I just rummaged through Ayano’s backpack without asking her…I don’t want to go back now and ask her either…What should I do, what should I do…

There were several boys taking a break in front of the drinking fountain of the club room building. Crap, this was bad timing… I straightened my spine that was bending forward and casually walked past their backs. As I began to walk up the stairs, feeling gravity pulling at my hips ten times more than usual, I ended up slouching again, and right then,

“Suemori Ibara-saaaan. Please show us your panties again today!”

Hearing jeering voices from below, my hands immediately went to my butt. Four or five boys with stupid grins on their faces were looking up at me on the stairs, forming a weird cluster like giving each other neck locks. Were these the same idiots who told Ayano to show her panties last week?

Should I try to run upstairs and escape to the club room? But turning one’s back to the enemy is out of the question! Or should I run down and try to bring down divine punishment to these middle school-looking stupid boys—my head didn’t know what to do, so my body was at a loss, and my left and right feet twisted in a weird way and I ended up missing a step. My legs opened wide and one leg plunged through the gap between the steps, hitting the inside of my thigh hard. This impossible dullness from Suemori Ibara of all people!

“Woah ho, Suemori’s so lame!”

The boys laughed, but they too were indeed a bit flustered. The shame was more unbearable than the pain, and tears welled up in my eyes. The pain of a bruise was nothing compared to the shameful sight of spreading your legs above boys’ heads on the day your period arrived.

And then, someone from behind grabbed me by my arms and pulled me up.

“…Are you alright, Ibara-chan?”

A somewhat gloomy voice came down. The first thing I saw as I craned my neck, half suspended in midair, was red lips and a thin chin, so close that I panicked and pulled my face away.

Kanno, with a sports towel covering his head, was looking down at me worriedly.

“Don’t, don’t touch me!”

I pushed Kanno away without thinking and clung to the railing of the stairs. Kanno awkwardly withdrew his hands, which had lost their place, and apologized as usual. “I’m sorry…” It seemed like I had refused to let him help me up, but I simply didn’t want my body to be touched by Kanno right now… The stupid boys were still looking up at me from below the railing, so I squeezed my throbbing thighs together.

“Oh, okay…Ibara-chan.”

Right after Kanno looked like realized something, he pushed me to the back and stepped forward. My body, which had been hidden in the shade of the eaves, was now exposed to the sun, and I almost shouted, “Ah!” Right at that moment…

Bang!!

A metallic roar pierced my eardrums. My heart shrank, and the sounds that were about to come out of my mouth and the tears that had welled up in my eyes receded.

Kanno had kicked the railing. The towel had fallen, exposing his pale face.

As the shaking of the metal lasted faintly…

“Sorry, but please don’t tease people too much.”

That was said by a voice so meek and subdued that it made you wonder what was that outburst right before. It was directed at the boys who had stiffened in a mass below the stairs and were openmouthed, probably having braced themselves for an angry voice.

“Ibara-chan, come here.”

As though nothing happened, he dejectedly went into the shadows of the eaves again, called out to me and climbed up the stairs. I was rooted on the spot from amazement, but Kanno beckoned to me with his hands behind his back with a “Hey” and I crab-walked up the stairs, mindful of my bottom. Kanno went straight past the girls’ volleyball room that was second from the front and nimbly passed through the outside passageway that was already narrow but crowded by the junk overflowing from each room.

Relegated to the very end of the second floor, in a spot where it was a hassle to get in and out of, was the boys’ volleyball club room. This was just my own impression, but aura of losers was leaking out from the door gap.

“No one’s here right now, so feel free to come in. I just came here to get my stopwatch because I forgot it.”

Kanno said, opening the door and going in. There was no way I could just walk into the boys’ club room and say “Pardon the intrusion” if I was told “Feel free to come in.” As soon as I cautiously peeked in from the door, an indescribable smell of sweat hit me. It was completely different from the scent of the girls’ room I was used to smelling. It wasn’t mixed in with artificial smells like antiperspirant spray, just the smell of bare sweat. It couldn’t be called neat and tidy by any standard, with equipment, personal belongings and trash lying around, but I wondered if it was because we had three times the number of members that it looked emptier than the girls’ volleyball club room. Or, maybe it was simply because girls had more stuff.

Kanno opened the door of one of the lockers, rummaged around, found something and handed it over to me. It was a rectangular object with a short edge of about ten centimeters and long edge of about twenty centimeters, with a colored plastic bag wrapped around it. Its shape, size, and tight packaging, as well as the drugstore logo printed on the bag. A girl would recognize what it was right away, but—why was it coming out of Kanno’s locker!?

“C’mon, take it.”

Kanno said in a muffled voice, sticking his head halfway into his locker. Vividly reminded of a vampire who felt safe being in his own coffin, the picture was strangely familiar.

“And please close that door when you’re done. People will think I’m a pervert if they see this, so…”

“No, you’re enough of a pervert already…?”

Kanno awkwardly tossed it at me, like he was unable to bear its weight, and I had no choice but to yelp and catch the thing that flew. Hmm, there was no mistake about it, this feeling and lightness. There were probably about twenty-four inside to use for many days.

“I didn’t have it because I wanted to have it. I was sent to buy it before…They were probably betting on something, but when I came back, the guys who ordered me to do it were getting yelled at by a third-year and it ended there, then I wondered what I should do with these… I couldn’t have anyone see me have them, I couldn’t throw them away, and if I brought them home, my mom would probably faint.”

“They even made you do that…? When was that? Why didn’t you tell me? I did warn them to stop it.”

“I guess June…? I know you aren’t very good at talking about things like this, Ibara-chan, so I thought it would embarrass you if I talked about it…” June meant that Kanno had this in his locker for three months.

“So, please, use this.”

Kanno said, poking a third of his face out from the other side of his locker. Oh, I’m saved. For a moment, I was simply grateful, but——

I belatedly realized what this offer meant, and my face instantly turned hot.

“Wait, h-how did you kn…you, you really are a pervert…”

“I am not a pervert. It’s unfortunate. It’s rather obvious when you see it, you know? I’ve been practicing with girls since middle school… Don’t girls feel tired and look sick?”

“Yeah, but even other girls don’t know.”

“Huh? Really? But even when I’m there, they say things like, ‘Do you have that today?’… You always look like you’re in pain from the twentieth to the twenty-third…Wait, today’s still the sixteenth.”

“Just wait a minute and be quiet. How did you grasp my…you know…”

The important words wouldn’t pass through my throat, and I turned bright red, my chin wobbling. For me, it was a disgusting, taboo word to even say, something that would force me to transform into an unclean creature I didn’t want to be.

“That’s because I’m always watching you, Ibara-chan…”

“So you’re a stalker, creep!”

“No, you have it all wrong! Don’t call me a creep.”

When I cursed at him unthinkingly, Kanno hurriedly added to what he said with a hurt look on his face.

“I’ve always been your fan, that’s what I meant by always watching you…ah, it does sound kinda stalkerish, but I’m not…um…Ibara-chan, you always saved me, and that’s why I’m here in the girls’ club. If you weren’t here, I would have quit a long time ago, and I might have even quit school…My parents are just overjoyed that I’m going to high school, but they’re shocked that I’m joining the volleyball team again, and that’s all thanks to you. Volleyball is fun. You were also the one who taught me the fun of volleyball…You were the best at volleyball, you were always cool, confident, someone who I could never be on par with. But, lately, I’ve been wanting something more, and, um…”

He retreated into the shadows of the locker once again while restlessly shaking his gaze left and right, and he was coughing so much that I was wondering if he had trouble breathing. No, how should I put it…if someone who didn’t know him saw his behavior, he really would seem like a pervert, but…Kanno, who didn’t talk a lot normally, was earnestly talking like he was scraping up the fragments of words scattered all about his body. Unconsciously overawed, I was unable to interrupt. When he calmed his breathing and faced forward like he had resolved himself, his wandering eyeballs had settled, and his gaze was fixed on my face. He straightened his body that seemed like it was going to snuggly fit into the locker at any moment, and ah, that was when I was reminded that he had overtaken me in height a long time ago.

“Um, I like you, Ibara-chan.”

Right after he said that while looking me in the eye, fire erupted from his face with a thud and he covered his face his hands, exclaiming stuff like “Uwah.”

While Kanno found himself in a fix all by himself, I…

I was so calm that it was uncanny. It was not the time for going into raptures over being confessed to by a boy for the first time in my life.

So it’s like that…

While I was listening, something got stuck in my mind. It was in past tense, all of it. In other words, in Kanno’s head, I was no longer an existence that was cool, confident and the best at volleyball. It meant that the current me was “something I could be on par with.” Even I was very well aware of that, but the fact that I was told that from Kanno’s mouth when I was supposed to take a little more time to come to terms with it within myself was a shock that was like having my head chopped off by a guillotine, and with that shock…

The feeling of something somewhat warm sliding down my inner thigh finally overwhelmed me.

“Ibara-chan…?”

Kanno cautiously raised his face.

The me who was a supreme existence for Kanno had nowadays fallen to the point where I could be obtained if someone wanted me. No matter how much I aimed for the top, I would never be able to jump higher than I did now, but Kanno was undoubtedly continuing to nimbly soar higher and higher at this very moment. Instead of attaching extra fat to his chest and buttocks, he would be covered in more and more supple and strong muscles.

I guess you don’t remember anymore…

“Long hair doesn’t suit Ibara-chan. You’ll look more handsome if it’s shorter.”

That was something said to me. From the smallest and most delicate kid in class. Putting a spell on me to shun being a girl and be cool and handsome, he became independent from my protection before I knew, and on top of that, confessed to me, like I was a clown.

It was now clear that the scratchiness that I felt within me every time I saw Kanno was jealousy and hatred.

“…Sorry, but no.”

Kanno’s eyes widened for a second, and then his shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“The only thing I feel for you is jealousy. You were lucky enough to be born a boy, and without using much effort, you were able to snatch what I want so bad but could never get. You grew a lot, I see… Did you know? I haven’t grown a centimeter since a year ago. My jump power is dropping. I’m gonna be less and less able to jump, just like Ayano. I don’t want that… I don’t want to be Ayano. Being so heavy and shameful-looking, just lumbering around close to the ground…”

“Ibara-cha…don’t…”

When I said Ayano’s name, Kanno suddenly interrupted me with an accusatory voice. I was irritated, wondering if he was finally going to talk to me like he was condescendingly admonishing me. I was very on edge.

I noticed that Kanno’s gaze was directed over my shoulder towards the outside hallway. When I looked back, sure enough, Ayano was standing there. She was holding a sports drink and towel, and her eyes were wide.

What did I say just now—? I was horrified at the words my own tongue wove together.

“Oh, um, Ibara-chan didn’t come back, so I came to check on her, but well, I half did it because I wanted to skip,” Ayano was speaking quickly with a shocked look on her face, and then forced an “…Aha!” like she just remembered to do it. “Ah, haha…that’s right, that’s why I’m useless. I get fat too quickly and it’s no wonder that Ibara-chan hates me, so, so don’t worry about it…”

She suddenly cast down her face with the whitish smile and spoke in a small voice.

“They, they’ll get angry if we don’t back now…I’ll go on ahead...”

She said and turned on her heel. Without looking anywhere but forward, she ran past the girls’ volleyball room, swinging the big butt I had shamed just now and disappearing down the stairs. The sound of squeaky footsteps stamping down the steps became distant.

“Ibara-chan, you have to go after her.”

Kanno grabbed my arm. I, who was frozen, jumped, but my legs didn’t move. If I took even a step forward from here, my blood will…

“It-it’s fine, it’s fine, we’ll meet in practice soon anyways, and she’ll understand once I talk to her… It wasn’t like I was talking about Ayano, just girls in general…”

Of course I was lying. It wasn’t about girls in general or anything like that. While I was blathering to Kanno about stuff that was just me taking out my anger from the ends of my prejudiced mind, it was definitely Ayano who I had been picturing in my mind with contempt.

***

When I returned to practice, Ayano, who was supposed to have gotten back before me, was nowhere to be seen. When my senpais asked me with concern, “Ibara, are you alright?”, I subconsciously put on a tough front and said, “Everything was completely fine. Sorry for all the trouble,” and despite worrying about Ayano, I did the rest of the regimen with the same enthusiasm as everyone else.

When practice time ended and the outside court, which had been roasted by the late summer sun, was finally in the shade with a somewhat comfortable wind blowing, Ayano returned.

She was with Kanno. No way, did he go searching for her…? She whispered something to Kanno, and then came to inside of the fence while awkwardly shrugging her shoulders. Kanno was seeing Ayano out and he himself didn’t go inside, just watching from outside the fence. The sports towel was once again snugly tied around his head.

Ayano first ran over to the captain, received a scolding, and then joined us as we were putting away the net.

“Wh-where did you go? Ayano…”

I made my face up like nothing had happened and called out to her, but she didn’t meet my eyes. I wondered where had she been until now—the tip of her nose was red from being sunburnt. “Ayano, Ayano, what happened?” “Why did you come with Dracky?” Immensely curious whispers immediately surrounded Ayano, and I was shut out of the circle.

Apologize, apologize, apologize, apologize… Just chanting that in my mind like a prayer to Buddha didn’t lead to action. Was I such a dawdling coward? In the end, I wasn’t cool or confident when it really mattered.

Clang, the fence shook violently.

On the inside of the fence, all of the girls’ team ducked their heads as they turned around, and then there was a sudden stir. Kanno gripped the fence with one hand and crouched down like he was hanging from it.

“Kanno!?”

I immediately ran over to the fence. I changed my mind on the way there and turned ninety degrees, rushing out the gate and went outside the fence. I rushed up to him and got on my knees, and when I touched his shoulder, it was hot—!? Kanno’s five fingers, which were still caught on the fence, slipped off and hit the ground. “Kan…” When I pressed his shoulders and tried to look into his face, the towel he covered his head with came loose and exposed his face.

The other members who belatedly gathered at the inside of the fence cried out.

From the bridge of his nose to his cheeks, a dense, closely-packed rash had emerged, and his skin was flaming bright red like he had blisters. Ayano’s slight sunburn couldn’t compare to it. The members in the front row were being pressed against the fence by the pressure from behind and blatantly trying to move back. “Hey, stop pushing!”

“Don’t…Please don’t look…”

A feeble voice leaked from Kanno’s mouth. He fumbled for the towel and pressed it against his face, curling his back and cowering. The rash also appeared on the back of his hand, peeking out from his long sleeves. Ibara-chan, his small voice entered my ears, and I unconsciously brought my drawn back face close to his.

“…I’m sorry for getting carried away…I know, I’m a total disgrace, and I’m nowhere near equal with you, Ibara-chan…So please, don’t…don’t go saying silly stuff like that…don’t say things that will make you lose your friends because of me…”

There was no one to make fun of, but without knowing what to do, and me and the rest of the team could do nothing but stay frozen in place from confusion. While we had been told that he had a health condition, it didn’t mean we could truly imagine the reality of it, so we thought it probably wasn’t as serious as everyone said, so that was probably why we could mess with Kanno so lightheartedly.

The only one who moved was Ayano. She went around the fence and ran over to our side, thrusting me away and switched places with me, putting the unfolded bath towel on top of Kanno’s head.

“I’m sorry, Dracky, you were with me the whole time, I’m sorry, and thank you… What should I do? Should we go inside the school? Can you walk? Senpai, please call the teacher!”

Ayano at that moment was not slow and sluggish in the slightest. She was quicker and braver than anyone. As though her voice released them from their paralysis, everyone regained their movements. The third-years ran to get their phones to call the advisor. Some came over to help Ayano while others carried over a cooler box.

Amidst all of that, I was the only one who was unable to take any effective action, just sitting on my butt in a daze.

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#2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu #2.43: seiin high school boys volleyball club #2.43 book 1 #2.43 translation

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tbr-agency · 3 years

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sleepless.

synopsis ∣ Jackson came all the way to Korea just because he can’t sleep since his thoughts are filled with her and there is another reason why he came.

timeline ∣ September 2020

characters ∣ Ji Chaeun, Ahn Eunhee (The Bloody Roses), Jackson Wang (Got7)

a/n ∣ slight angst at first, fluff in the end with kisses.

“The number you are calling isn’t available.”

“Aish!” Jackson threw his phone on the floor, sitting down on his hotel bed while rubbing his face frustratedly.

He knew he had fucked up - seeing that Chaeun didn't answer his phone calls due to him acting like a poophead. Jackson knew he was too protective of Chaeun due to the love he felt for her.

Too much love could suffocate someone hence they didn’t notice what they say.

The last message he received from Chaeun was 2 weeks ago - a reply from his long apology.

And ever since that night, Jackson has been having sleepless nights in China. Even his team knew what he was feeling since he wasn't on his energetic side. They knew something must have happened but they didn’t exactly know what was going on.

But due to his professionalism, Jackson would try to lift up the mood although his face wasn’t match to his mood - it was as if the colors on his face drained out, seeing his visible dark circles as his Team Wang makeup artist has to comment on that.

Jackson never had the worst dark circles whenever he was in China.

All night he was thinking why did he say those words to her. Chaeun wasn’t at fault at all, she was just doing her own job. Jackson sighed out of frustration as he plopped himself on the bed, closing his eyes.

He really is in love with her, Chaeun is always on his mind.

Jackson was worried if she was still mad at him, if she was alright, if she had been going on night missions - he was clever to contact the other girls which was Hyunji.

Hyunjinie

Hey oppa. I can’t call you nowadays due to busy schedules but Chaeun has stuck herself in our gymnastics room. Everynight after we complete our task, she would always be there no doubt. She didn’t tell us anything but it seems something has ticked her off. I hope it wasn’t you or anything. She really loves you, we always caught her searching for your name in google images. I think she really missed you.

This made Jackson smile whenever he read the message that was sent by the maknae of The Bloody Roses. It seems Chaeun was thinking the same as him.

She missed him too, but the question he asked himself was why didn’t Chaeun reply to him after all this time?

He guessed she could still feel mad at him or she accidentally read his message and forgot to reply to him.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Jackson muttered to himself before taking his car keys, his phone and his passport - quickly exiting his hotel room and texting the Team Wang staff that he would be going to Korea, then informing his manager in Korea that he would be there for a while to settle some things.

“What’s wrong with you, Chaeun? You have been stuck in that gymnastic room for god how many hours every single night!” Eunhee slightly yelled from far, towards the girl who was punching onto the same sandbag for 2 hours.

Chaeun clenched her jaw as she let out a few rough punches on the sandbag. It’s been a week that she finally got to remove her cast and she was allowed by the doctor that her wounds had healed fully.

Feeling the slight pain on her knuckles, that was the moment when she decided to give a break - turning towards Eunhee with a heavy breathing, trying to slow down her breathing.

“Well.. I feel like going to the gym room.” Chaeun answered, trying to avoid Eunhee’s gaze as she went towards the side to gulp onto her water to refresh herself.

“Did you fight with Jackson?” Eunhee questioned her once Eunhee stood in front of her.

Chaeun stopped drinking as her eyes turned towards Eunhee with a slightly glare. It was the first time that she felt sensitive whenever she heard Jackson’s name.

“It’s none of your business. We’re okay,” Chaeun answered harshly but Eunhee being Eunhee, she wasn’t affected by Chaeun’s attitude. Instead, she was amused by her ex-roommate.

They have shared a room for about more than 2 years. Eunhee knows Chaeun really well.

“What happened, Chaeun? C’mon, you think I would be affected by you acting like a bitch to me? You know me,” Eunhee lectured with both of her hands on her hips.

Chaeun clenched her jaw as she took out her gloves, throwing it on the floor before turning towards Eunhee.

“We fought, okay? It’s about the attack that involves Hyeseon and me chasing after the attacker.” Chaeun confesses and Eunhee’s face slowly softens with a sigh, kind of knowing what the fight will be about.

“Let me guess, he kind of nagged at you for doing something dangerous?”

“Yeah, I guess his words kind of triggered me because he’s not wrong. Some of statements was true the more I think about it,”

“You don’t have to act like a hero every time, Chaeun-ah. Give it a rest already,”

“I know. But the other girls were there to help. Seriously, Chaeun. You don’t have to carry all the responsibility in your hands. Let the other girls handle it,”

Honestly, Chaeun had spent nights in the gymnastic room just to reflect on herself - going through his words. Although his words were harsh for her, Chaeun knew he wasn’t completely wrong.

She just felt responsible that day although the other girls were there. But out of Yeonji, Nara and Hyunji, Chaeun was the oldest of them. She didn’t want them to get hurt, that is what she worries about the most.

Chaeun was worried if one of the maknae line had gotten hurt - but she doesn’t mind if the older ones got hurt, maybe because she adored the maknae line more.

There were lots of emotions going through her right now as she admits that she really missed Jackson even though she ignored his texts. She could feel the lump on her throat and her lips quivering,as she was about to burst into tears.

“Chaeun-ah, it’s okay… I think you need a rest now. It’s been more than 3 hours already. I’ll see you in about an hour since I’m heading home and we will talk about this later,” Eunhee pats onto the girl’s shoulder, pinching onto her cheeks with a small smile before turning her back as she makes her way towards her exit.

Chaeun watches Eunhee walk off but soon there is a loud gasp coming from Eunhee - earning a look from Chaeun.

“Well, well, well…” Eunhee sang as she opened the door widely with a tilt on her head and a smirk to reveal who it was.

Chaeun’s eyes widened to see Jackson literally standing beside Eunhee - side hugging the girl before turning his head towards Chaeun with a small smile.

Chaeun tried her best to keep her emotion together as soon as Jackson stood infront of her - his eyes were everywhere on her face as it traveled onto her hands to see her knuckles were bruised up and all red.

“Chaeun-ah…” With just Jackson calling out for her name, Chaeun somehow couldn’t hold onto her tears as she began to choke up with tears as she began to fully weep in tears.

Jackson was obviously taken aback and he was absolutely devastated seeing his bodyguard-girlfriend crying - as a result, he immediately engulfed her into a big tight hug.

He knew Chaeun might have been so emotional lately since he could feel her arms wrapping around him.

“I’m so sorry, Chaeun-ah. I should have come sooner. I’m so sorry for saying all those words to you. I’m so insensitive and just dumb. I shouldn’t have--

Chaeun somehow stopped Jackson from talking as she had her hands cupping onto both of his cheeks, as she pressed kisses everywhere on his face - Jackson was too shocked and of course he was happy.

Seeing his reaction, Chaeun can’t help but giggle to see his stunned face.

“You were right, Jackson.” Chaeun spoke her first sentence, earning a slight frown from Jackson - it was his turn to have his hand on her face, caressing her cheeks with his thumb.

“What do you mean, my love? I don’t think I was right at all. You were just doing your job.” corrected Jackson, his hands travelling towards her waist - pulling her towards him with Chaeun’s arms wrapping onto his waist as always whenever Jackson does this.

“No, baby. You were right. I was just worried for Yeonji, Nara and Hyunji. They are like my babies. I didn’t want them to get hurt, they are just like my babies. I always feel this responsibility whenever I do missions with them, you get what I mean?” Chaeun explained softly, her eyes landing towards Jackson that was filled with love and adoration for her.

Jackson could only chuckle while nodding his head.

“I know. You remind me of Jaebeom hyung when we were rookies. He was really worried and he didn’t know how to be a good leader to us but look at him now.” Jackson answered with a smile, remembering the tough, old days yet it was memorable for him as well as for the other Got7 members.

Chaeun gazed towards his face lovingly, noticing his dark circles as she immediately frowned.

“Jackson, have you not been sleeping?” Chaeun’s eyebrow furrowed, her hands touching onto his face causing Jackson to avoid her touches while pulling her body closely towards him - then pampering kisses on her face to avoid Chaeun seeing more imperfections on his face.

“Jackson, baby.” Chaeun called out as she had to hold onto his chin with her fingers while forcely turned his head towards her eye.

“Fine. I had sleepless nights. I can’t sleep knowing my girlfriend is mad at me and has been ignoring my messages.” Jackson admitted with a pout. Chaeun felt guilty as she sighed while looking away.

“I’m sorry, baby. I should have replied to you, but I guess I was still hurt by your words and honesty.” Chaeun answered softly. Jackson pouted, causing Chaeun to pinch his cheeks.

“Let’s make a promise. Whenever we fight or argue, can we settle it once and for all - no matter how stubborn we are at that moment?” Chaeun offered as she let out her bruised knuckle as a pinky sticks out in front of Jackson.

“Of course, baby! Let’s do it no matter what!” Jackson agreed with a sincere smile and chuckle.

Jackson intertwined his pinky with hers, earning a hissed from Chaeun - both forgetting that her knuckles were all red and bruised.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry!” Jackson squeaked, bringing her knuckles close to his mouth and he pressed gentle kisses on her knuckles.

Chaeun let out giggles, seeing how silly Jackson is.

“Since I kissed your bruised up knuckles, can I have a kiss to cheer me up due to fatigue?” Jackson offered with a pouty look and Chaeun wasn’t hesitant to land her lips onto his - feeling Jackson’s hands on both of her cheeks as he deepened the kiss.

The kiss was soft yet a long one. She knew he really missed her by just the way he portrayed the kiss. Jackson was the first one to break the kiss, proceeding to peck a kiss on her forehead.

“Let’s not fight again, Chaeun-ah. I love you so much and I hate it whenever we fight,”

masterlist : Got7 Bodyguard Au

#got7 bodyguard au #got7 bodyguard #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 jackson #got7 jackson scenarios #got7 jackson imagines

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timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic · 4 years

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Chapter 37 - A Strange Girl Who Is Everything I’ve Ever Dreamed

Seattle Washington, September 21 1990

(Andi is 20, Chris is 26)

ANDI: "Ok, I can do this right? I mean... right?" I say as I stand in front of the full length mirror in our bedroom, My dark curls styled in loose ringlets that cascaded down passed my shoulders, looking at the simple white strapless dress that hugged my bust perfectly and flowed down to just above my knee. It pretty much looks just like a sun dress with a lace overlay starting from just under the bust. It's pretty '60's inspired and it was all I could afford - and it was the only dress that I found suited me the best without it being too elaborate, that also went perfectly with these solid white heels on my feet that feel too tall. I just hope I don't trip at any point.

"Yes, baby girl... you can do this,"

I turn around and see my father John, standing in the doorway leaning against the frame in a white dress shirt, black jeans and a black jacket. His hair just to his shoulders and a full beard and I suddenly felt like a little girl again.

"Daddy," I say and my bottom lip trembles as he walks over to me and embraces me in a hug.

"How's my girl?" He says and I practically cry feeling his arms around me. I hadn't seen him since December last year and I knew I missed him, I just didn't think it was this much. He smells exactly the same, reverting me back to when I was a little girl and I would hang on his every word and snuggle into him as he held me.

"Uh, well I'm getting married," I giggle through my tears as I pull away from him.

"I see that," He chuckles as he glances over me.

"Oh my god, I'm a mess," I say as I turn back to the mirror and grab a tissue wiping my eye trying carefully not to mess up my make up.

"No sweetie you are beautiful... you look just like your mother when we got married," He says and I turn back to him. "I wish she could see... " he trails off for a moment and looks down at himself.

"It's ok daddy... she's here," I say and he gives me a half smile.

"You know... I always loved your mother. No matter what. I made mistakes and I regret the day that I left more than anything -

"Daddy - "

"No you need to hear this. I miss her more than anything. I know we probably were never meant for each other but she was a really good woman, and I loved her very much and I was just too damn stubborn and hardheaded in my ways to realize just how much she wanted me to be there... How much she really meant to me," John looks at me with his dark eyes filled with so much love for me and so much regret.

"Daddy it's ok... she knows,"

He gives me a small smile, then takes me in his arms again embracing me in a hug and I knew for sure the tears were going to start again.

"I love you my baby girl," He says, his voice deep and comforting.

"I love you too daddy," I sigh and he holds me for a few more moments and then pulls away giving me a kiss on my forehead.

"Ok, I'm gonna let you finish getting ready and I'll meet you at the back sliding door... that is where we planned it right?"

"Yes," I giggle. I can tell he's a little nervous about giving me away. He gives me a wink and squeezes my hand then turns and heads out of the bedroom. I then turn back to the mirror and try to fix up the rest of my make up, making sure nothing smudged with all the emotions I'm feeling. Suddenly I somehow couldn't shake this weird dizzy feeling, thinking maybe it was just cause I haven't eaten anything. I've been way too nervous to even think about food all morning.

I take in a few deep breaths and close my eyes for a moment to try and focus but it's almost like it made it worse.

Ok, Andi, you're ok... just relax

I flick open my eyes and make my way to the bathroom that was just beside our bedroom, and lean against the sink. I haven't felt like this in a long time and usually this happens when I'm about to have a time slip. I've been taking those pills so I have no idea where this is coming from. I steady myself for a moment and glance at myself in the bathroom mirror when everything really started to get blurry. I open up the medicine cabinet and take out the bottle of Lorazepam, then just as I popped open the bottle cap, everything went completely dark.

*****

CHRIS: Standing outside in our backyard, I feel like I have been waiting forever for this moment. I'm finally making Andi my wife and all I could think about was how incredibly nervous I am in front of all these people. I know it's just friends and family but still, I can't help but feel that way, especially when they are watching. I glance down at myself in my black button up shirt, that I left untucked and black pants and adjust my suede wrist bands, fidgeting with them because I'm so damn nervous.

Everyone had taken their place. My sister Katy standing next to Demri, My brother Peter standing next to me, My mom sitting in the middle row with my older brother Patrick, Kim matt and Ben all sitting in the back row along with Layne, Jerry, Stone, Jeff and Eddie. Eddie Vedder - now one of my closest best friends - sitting in the back with his date that he brought - I think she said her name is Beth? - Anyways, When Jeff and Stone and I started working on some music back in August, they introduced me to Ed and said that they were wanting to continue on in a band with him, and hit it off so incredibly well. He's such a great guy... he just has this soulfulness about him that reminds me of Andy. I know Andi was so shy around him at first and it was funny to see two incredibly shy people try to get to know each other. I think Andi was the one who said something first though... and we all know how hard it is for her to be the one to spark up a conversation.

Speaking of Andi, where the hell is she?

"So are we almost ready to get started? Where's the bride - Andrea, it's Andrea right?" The officiant says to me.

"Yea, um... I think we are almost... ready?" I turn and give Peter a look of confusion and he looks down at his watch.

"Um, yea... let me go and see if she's ready," Peter says and pats me on the shoulder and heads down the small isle. I see Peter walk up to Susan who had just come out of the house and say something to her, Susan nods, then disappears back into the house.

"Susan's going to check on her," Peter says as he comes back down the isle and takes his place beside me again.

"Ok," I say and start to fidget again.

"You alright brother?" Peter asks.

"Yea, yea... I'm just nervous," I say. After a few moments, Susan comes back, walking down the isle and smiling to everyone as they greet her, then finally reaches me.

"She's gone," She lifts herself up and whispers in my ear.

"What?" I say flatly.

"She's not in the bedroom," She says again. Feeling my heart begin to pound a million times a minute, I gently move her out of the way and walk hurriedly down the isle while our guests begin to stir, wondering what's going on. I make my way inside the house and run as fast as I can up the stairs to our bedroom and she is nowhere to be found.

"No.. No, no, no, baby not now,"

I check the opposite bedroom, and nope not in there either. I then quickly run into the bathroom and see her dress laying in a clump on the floor with her white shoes and white lacy garter belt.

*****

(Andi is 28)

ANDI: "I'm sorry!" I yell back to the neighbor screaming at me as I fumble putting on one of the shoes I had taken from the back yard from one of the houses a few streets over from our house. It's my freaking wedding day, and I can't believe I had somehow forgot to tell myself that this would happen. At least I was able to make it back to the same neighborhood.

I couldn't have slipped at a worse time either. Right in the middle of Chris and I... well... god his lips felt so fucking good, hitting that perfect spot. I was so fucking goddamn close too. Fucking Christ!

I quickly make my way down a few blocks, pretty much running so that I wouldn't make the ceremony too late and finally come up to our old house. There were tons of cars parked outside, but it looks like everyone is in the backyard. Pushing my curls behind my ear, I quietly make my way up to the front door, head inside and immediately up the stairs, hearing everyone's voices out in the backyard. I step into the bedroom, walk over to the window and see everyone conversing while it looks like Chris and Peter are talking to my dad and preventing people from coming inside the house.

"Shit, ok gotta hurry," I say to myself and run into the bathroom, tearing off my stolen clothes and jumping in the shower to quickly clean myself.

Fuck, I'm so hungry

In no time I finish, dry myself off and try to style my curls as best I could. I remember my hair was so perfect in soft loose ringlets, now it's damp as I try to scrunch it with some hair product knowing I don't have time to whip out the curling iron to make it the way it was that day - I mean this day. I quickly change into my wedding dress, finding it a little tighter than I remember but still able to get it on, only now the top of my cleavage is visibly showing.

I guess my boobs did get bigger.

I then grab the white garter belt and slide it up to my thigh, then slip on my white shoes. I then head back into the bedroom to check myself in the full length mirror, try and fluff my curls a bit as they fall down around my shoulders in tight curls and see if I can quickly throw on some make-up. As I move over to my dresser I hear a few voices coming up the stairs again and I start to panic a little.

"I'm just gonna check the bedroom again, you never know she might have - "

The door opens and I quickly close up my powder compact and see Chris in his black button up dress shirt, untucked with the top 2 buttons undone, his necklaces laying against his bare chest, those black suede wrist bands and black dress pants, his curls - oh my god those gorgeous curls I miss - down passed his shoulders with his silver hoop earrings poking through, his beard perfectly trimmed, neat and subtle when he first started to grow it, and those beautiful blue eyes that light up my soul each time he lays them on me.

"Hi baby," I smile at him and he immediately rushes over to me and wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly and whispers "Hi"

"Um, could you just give us a few minutes?" Chris says after a few moments of him holding me and turns to whoever was with him and they nod and head back downstairs. Chris then closes the bedroom door and turns back to me.

"Ok, tell me that I'm not crazy here, but I could have sworn you... you looked different this morning... or..." He says as he walks over to me. His eyes wander over my body, landing at my chest lingering for a moment, and then flicking back to my eyes.

"No, I'm the same... I just, decided to change my make-up," I say and bite my bottom lip.

Holy shit he looks so fucking gorgeous.

He keeps his eyes on mine for a few moments and once again looks over my body, then catches my left hand noticing the tattoo on my ring finger had been completed. He takes my hand and then flicks his eyes back to mine.

"We're already married aren't we?" He asks.

"Yea," I say after a few moments.

"When are you coming from?" He asks glancing over my chest again.

"Uh, 1998" I breathe as his cologne fills my nostrils the closer he moves to me.

"So... are you here to marry me?"

" I am,"

"So when you come back, we aren't actually married then?" He asks and I can see the look of confusion take over him.

"Technically no, but you take me to city hall and we make it official then" I tell him.

"Do you at least come back in time for... tonight?" He raises his eyebrow at me.

"I do," I say remembering our wedding night. It was the best night of my life. "But just go easy on me ok? I'm probably not going to be exactly my happy self when I come back,"

He gives me a concerned look for a moment and moves closer to me. I didn't really want to get into specifics but I remember feeling incredibly heartbroken when I slipped. He then touches his forehead to mine and I close my eyes relishing in the scent of him. He then places his lips on mine starting gentle at first then swiping his tongue across my bottom lip and deepening the kiss. Without realizing it, my fingers make their way to his hair, lacing them through his curls, relishing in them as he draws me into him.

Dear fucking god, his lips feel so good.

He then pulls away from me and glances down at my chest again.

"See something you like?" I raise my eyebrow at him.

"Uh..." He trails off and I catch him biting his bottom lip. "You uh, you're fucking gorgeous in that dress," He adds flicking his eyes back to mine.

"We better get downstairs before people start to wonder what's going on up here," I sigh when he touches his forehead to mine wanting him to just make love to me right here, right now.

"Yea, you're right. Ok, I'll head down first," He says, places another kiss on my lips, then reluctantly pulls away from me and turns, adjusting himself and I giggle.

"You shush," He says flashing me a smirk before he disappears downstairs.

*****

Seattle Washington, April 2 1980

(Andi is 20, Chris is 15)

ANDI: "Shit! Jeezus What the Fuck?!" Chris yelps as I suddenly appear on the bathroom floor completely naked while he is in the clawfoot bathtub taking a shower. He covers himself but looks completely terrified at me while the water continues running over him.

"Andi, oh my God, um... shit," He says and turns the shower off while I try to gather myself together. I still feel incredibly dizzy. He quickly jumps out of the bathtub and grabs a towel from the rack to cover himself with and an extra one for me. He moves back over to me and nervously helps wrap me in a towel, giving me the shyest smile.

"Hi," He says sweetly. My god he's so young and his hair is so short.

"Um, hi," I say a little disoriented.

"Are you ok?" He asks.

"Yea, I think so," I say as he helps me sit up on the toilet. Suddenly he starts to giggle and which in turn made me start because I seriously did not mean to scare him, but I have to admit, that scream he let out was hilarious.

"Here, let me get you something um, I'll be right back," He says laughing and hurries out of the bathroom while I continue to giggle and situate myself a little better. A few minutes later he comes back wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants and one of his T-Shirts for me.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you," I giggle.

"It's ok, I figured you wanted me to scream like a girl at some point," He laughs as he crouches down so that he is pretty much eye level with me. He hands me over the T-Shirt and I quickly pull it on, flipping my curls out from underneath. It was pretty much a night shirt on me as it was long enough to come down to my mid-thigh.

"It's um... it's good to see you," He says with a small smile.

"You, too," I say as I look into his incredibly young features.

"I was um, just gonna hang out at home today so... wanna hang out with me?" He asks so cutely.

"Yea sure," I smile back at him. He then holds out his hand for me and I take it, and he leads me out into the living room part of the basement of his old house he lived in with his mom.

*****

ANDI: "So... what should I put on now?" Chris asks me as he crawls on his knees over to the stereo and stops the turntable.

"I don't know... I'm cool with whatever," I say as I lay down on the shaggy carpeted floor of his living room with my eyes closed my legs crossed at the ankle with my one arm supporting behind my head.

"Ok, um... do you wanna pick something?" He says as he looks back at me with those blue eyes.

"Mmmm... how about the Ramones?" I ask.

"Road to Ruin?" He smiles at me.

"Sure," I say and he immediately flips though his records, finds it and puts it on. He then moves back over to the coffee table, sitting in front of it and just beside me, grabs the joint that was burning in the ashtray and takes a few drags from it.

"You know, you never said when you're coming from," He says as he exhales a cloud of smoke.

"1990," I say quietly with my eyes still closed.

"Oh, so you're like what... how old?"

"20," I say quietly again.

"Huh..." He trails off and takes another drag.

"What?" I ask opening one eye at him.

"Nothing," He says and I close my eyes again. I can feel him studying me for a few moments and then he takes another drag.

"Andi, are you ok?" He asks. I guess he could tell that I really wasn't in the mood to be time travelling.

"Yea... yea I'm ok," I sigh wishing that I could tell him it's our wedding day and that all I want to do is just marry him and be with him but instead I ended up being here with him when he's only 15 and we can't do anything at all because that would be completely wrong, not to mention illegal if anything else. I always forget we're just friends in this time and as much as I love that he's my best friend, I just want to go back to my time.

But I love him so much. Fuck this fucking sucks. I hate myself so fucking much.

"Andi?" He asks again and I find myself trying to hold back my crying but I just couldn't help it. I cover my face with my hands and start to sob, feeling like an absolute idiot.

"Hey, no... no don't cry. Did I say something wrong?" He asks as he butts out the joint.

"No," I say quietly as I wipe my eyes and sit up. He moves even closer to me while I continue to wipe my tears away. He pushes my curls behind my ear, and cups my face in his palms looking at me with those blue eyes that are so young and have no idea of the life ahead of him.

"Andi, you can tell me anything you know that right?" He says and I'm suddenly reminded of his birthday in the park when he said the exact same thing, the exact same way only I really can't tell him everything right now. I then wrap my arms around him wanting him to hold me and feeling his arms slowly embrace me. Without him saying one more word, he hugs me tighter as I softly cry into his shoulder.

*****

Seattle Washington, September 21 1990

(Andi is 28, Chris is 26)

CHRIS: "... and Chris, do you take Andrea Marie O'Riden to be your lawfully wedded wife, in good times and in bad times, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," I say without any hesitation as I slip the white gold wedding band on her finger, knowing it is the only time she will ever wear it.

"Alright, with the power bestowed upon me and by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you... Husband and Wife,"

I smile looking into those beautiful dark eyes of hers and knowing that she is an older version of herself, she is still so incredibly beautiful and everything that I ever dreamed about.

"...you can kiss your bride," the officiant says to me with a chuckle and I immediately lean down to her, pressing my lips to hers as she giggles against my lips for a moment, then cups my face in her palm. At that moment, everything stood completely still as I hear all of our friends and family laugh and cheer for us, applauding as I pretty much refuse to take my lips away from hers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I now introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Christopher John Cornell," The officiant says proudly though I still remain placing a few quick kisses on her lips while she giggles so sweetly as everyone continues to applaud us.

*****

Hours later, I sit in one of the large reading chairs in our living room as the last of our guests leave. Susan walks over to me while my hand grips my roots as I play with Andi's wedding band between my fingers.

"You need anything?" She says as she places her hand on my shoulder.

"No... just my wife back," I exhale and lay my head back on the chair, closing my eyes.

"I know... she'll come back. She always does," Susan gives me a small smile and I return it, glancing up at her. She then turns and makes her way to the front door giving me a soft wave as she says goodbye, and I am left alone to wait for my love to come back to me.

#Time After Time #fanfiction #time travel #alternate universe #also on ao3 #also on wattpad #fantasy #grunge fanfiction #grunge #chris cornell #chris cornell fanfiction #soundgarden #soundgarden fanfics

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abstractanalogue · 3 years

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Capratone, The Asteroids & The Metronoids (for Beginners)

Tracks & Traces #13: I’ve been planning to write about the music of Capratone, The Asteroids and The Metronoids for sometime and have finally gotten around to it (somehow its been almost 3 years since the last T&T). The link between these bands is Andrew Lyster (now living in Brussels) and as I will explain, he kindly answered some of my questions for this hybrid Tracks & Traces. Since originally publishing this piece Richie Kelly of Capratone has also similarly added valuable information I would never have been able to share otherwise. Usually I just depend on my memory, the records, press cuttings and any surviving notes I took from the times but as I got deeper into the story there were too many question marks about line-ups (pre-Capratone), the issue of a possible ‘lost’ Capratone album and don’t even get me started about The Metronoids! At time of writing most of this music is hard if not impossible to find streaming online and I couldn’t even locate any band photos or videos either. Which is all the more reason to write a piece to mark their existence and hopefully spark a revival of interest. When I was putting the finishing touches to the article I did discover there is now at least some music from The Asteroids on YouTube. Not long after I originally shared this piece, Joss Moorkens of Capratone sent me two band photos, the first line-up (L-R: Fiachra, Joss, Andrew) and as a four piece with Richie Kelly (below).

I first saw Andrew Lyster play (vocals/guitar) when I caught The World of Pugh in a venue I only went to once, Dillinger’s. Like many things from those days it’s long gone but it was a bar with a small stage (up some stairs?) somewhere off Dublin’s Capel St. (18/3/94). As I totally forgot who was in the rest of the band I’ll let Andrew take up the story.

“The World of Pugh was the first group where I wrote songs. I think it started around 1993. Originally it was Keith Swan on drums and a fellow called Brian McEleney on bass. Then in 1994 I brought some songs in and Brian took off to be replaced by Niall Brown (who was also the singer and guitar player for The Moustaches). Niall played bass for World of Pugh in the form where we had songs and did gigs.”

I’m sure someone like Joss Moorkens (then drumming with Tucker Suite) had told me about TWOP and the name had struck me (there was a very cool hand drawn flyer for the gig). They played bottom of the bill with Tucker Suite, Budge and Schroeder’s Cat, all part of a very exciting little scene at the time. Less than two weeks later I happened to see TWOP again on a bill with The Moustaches at a house party on Middle Abbey Street. The Moustaches, who sadly never released anything, were also part of this same scene (in my mind anyway). As I recall, this latter show was on the second or third floor of a semi derelict space in which a friend of both bands was living as a caretaker. Andrew has now told me that he and Keith Swan actually lived there and it was where TWOP rehearsed. I remember sitting on an old mattress and really enjoying the atmosphere (a cymbal was tied to a rafter). I do remember that TWOP had a real sense of humour on stage with some crowd involvement going on. They never had any releases but might well have recorded something (I’ve also heard tell of an unreleased album by The Moustaches!). This would be the last time I saw them play, perhaps it was even their last show? It would be another year before I would see Andrew onstage again.

While researching this piece I did find an Irish band family tree which shows that Andrew, Joss, Fiachra Lennon and Brian Gough were in a band called Mudshark (1991-92), which was not actually their first band. Again, Andrew gave me some more information which I thought was worth sharing and clarifying about these early days.

“Brian Gough (later in Mexican Pets) had been in an even earlier band than Mudshark with me called The Foots. This band only played one gig in a pub in Dun Laoghaire in 1991. Our friends had to listen to the music from the street because they were too young to get in. After The Foots broke up I think Brian went on to another group called Harvey, and then Tucker Suite with Greg Barrett (later in Joan of Arse) on bass initially. Greg then did Schnorbitz with Joss, and had a cool band called Giraffe Running.”

Andrew’s next band would be Capratone (vocals/guitar) along with Joss on Drums and Fiachra on bass. Regarding song-writing Andrew told me, “For the most part I would write the songs and we would try to make them better by all writing our own parts through rehearsals. One or two were group written from stuff that happened in rehearsal.” I first saw them in another venue off Capel St. supporting Schroeder’s Cat at Behan’s Bar (previously The Fox & Pheasant) (3/4/95) and again just ten days later at The Plough with (surprise surprise) The Moustaches and Schroeder’s Cat. I would get to see this line-up play quite often on local bills until Sept ‘97 (more on this later). I recall they also played a short tour around Ireland with US band The Make-Up (April ‘97).

In early ‘96 they tried to record an album with producer Marc Carolan. Andrew told me it was to be called, “Le Plus Roll, because we felt our music was more Roll than Rock. I can’t pin down the exact date of the recording, but my guess is that it was in 1996. We had 2 days in a studio somewhere in Rathgar. It was a 24 track ADAT studio. I think it had a Soundcraft desk. The highlight equipment-wise was an incredible Ampeg bass stack that belonged to some professional band. Its sound was so authoritative and great that by the end of the long first day’s recording, when I had crawled into bed, I was woken up a couple of times by LOUD auditory hallucinations of Fiachra’s P Bass blasting through that thing. Marc, and the three of us all worked really hard for the two days, we did manage to record and mix all the songs we came in with, but I think the short time-frame worked against us capturing the right aesthetic. The means of production were expensive to rent and we couldn’t afford to record even in a project studio like that for more than a day or two.”

Luckily, one of the songs, ‘Homeward’, ended up on the Irish band compilation album, Zip Up Your Boots For The Showbands (1996). I always loved this intricate and explosive song and a whole album like this would have been quite something. The only place online you can hear it now is on a radio show I made for Dublin Digital Radio about bands that played in Dublin’s Attic venue. I must point out the musicianship of Capratone, it may not have been so obvious in the more noisy Tucker Suite but Joss was such an amazing and distinct drummer and both Fiachra and he so easily locked together. They created a lot of space for Andrew’s vocals and guitar for these catchy and very inventive songs to really flow.

At some point in late 1996 Richie Kelly joined (on right in pic) on guitar and they played as a four piece. At some other point Andrew left but as the band continued things must have been going really well musically. According to my notes the last two times I saw Capratone play was at the start of September ‘97, supporting The Sewing Room and Luggage at Dublin’s Mean Fiddler and then a headline show in The Funnel venue at the end of the same month. This doesn’t mean they stopped playing of course but for whatever reasons I didn’t see them again. Things don’t stay static, I did get really into electronic dance music and clubbing the following year but continued to see guitar bands as well but gigs would clash, allegiances, circumstances and tastes change, choices have to be made.

At some point this second line-up hooked up with Dublin label Folkrum Records (run by Dan Watson) and they recorded a mini album, The Art of Go, which was released in early 2000 (CD only) and produced by Simon Kenny aka Si Schroeder. At that stage Joss and Fiachra were still in the line-up with Richie and Eric Sexton (on guitar). I wasn’t sure if any of Andrew’s songs survived after his time with the band (on the Capratone page of the old Folkrum website he only gets thanked for the name) so I needed to ask him about it, “I didn’t write anything on the LP called The Art of Go. There was a strange overlapping series of line-ups in Capratone but when I left I think Richie Kelly (who was a recently arrived guitar player joining the original 3 piece) took on the song-writing job. As far as I know those Art Of Go tunes were all of his making. Richie went on to make a few attempts at recording subsequent line-ups of Capratone.” According to Joss’ short biog of the band on Last.fm, by the end of Capratone the line-up had changed completely from the original one.

Since I published this piece Richie Kelly has been in touch and has kindly provided more detail about joining the band and how his role and the line-up evolved. “I saw Capratone in 1996 and was blown away. Even before the show ended, I wanted to join but that seemed unlikely. It turned out that Andrew’s song-writing was taking a new direction and he had decided to add a second guitarist. We were connected through an extended friend group and apparently word had gotten to him that I was as enamoured with The Beach Boys as he was. We bumped into each other and started talking music and I must have auditioned and joined the band shortly thereafter. At some point I brought a song to the band and we added it to our set (with my vocals). I started contributing more so when Andrew decided to stop playing, we just continued. We added Eric Sexton, a friend and former bandmate. The Art of Go was recorded by Simon Kenny with basic tracking done over a weekend at a large room in Joss’ father’s business. Simon and I continued vocals and overdubs at his flat in Donnybrook.”

Surprisingly none of this music has made it onto YouTube or anywhere else online that I could find. It can be bought on Discogs, which is how I got my hands on it about two years ago. In my opinion it works really well as an EP, with a few really engaging tracks but with some filler too. The best for me would be ‘Clozer’ which sounds like a lost classic and musically is a more full bodied version of the band heard on ‘Homeward’. ‘Free Jazz’ is pleasingly upbeat and cruises along on Beach Boy vibes. They do sound quite American (Pavement and bands of that ilk) at times (as did Capratone mark 1) but this was very much the sound and influence of the times, everything still comes down to the quality of the song-writing. The band broke up a good while later, sometime in 2003 without anymore releases. At some stage Richie Kelly moved to Brooklyn, New York and started a similar sounding band there but with more brass, Sport of Kings. He even re-recorded ‘Free Jazz’ and made a video for it. The influence of Brian Wilson is clear on this song in particular, they cleverly re-use The Beach Boy’s ‘Cool, cool water” line in the song (also present in the original version). Apart from some positive reviews of their only EP, Logic House (2011), there is little sign of the band online either but at least you can check out their excellent video for ‘Free Jazz’ (see below). I did find just one image of Capratone at this time on the Folkrum website, which I have enlarged below. Richie is the golf club carrying member.

In my original piece I wasn’t sure what happened to Capratone next so Richie can take up the story, “The Art of Go attracted the interest of Shifty Disco, who released all of the Elephant 6 stuff in the UK. We set about making a full length for them which we were calling Aviation High. Simon Kenny was initially set to record but was so busy with other projects, I asked Andrew to do it and he agreed. Drum and bass tracking took place in a studio in Dublin. Andrew and I indulged our love of tinkering at his family home while recording my parts and mixing. The result is a pretty high fidelity Capratone record. Shifty Disco preferred the super compressed Capratone of the previous record and passed. We trudged along with some line-up changes after that. The most stable line-up though was myself, Cian Synnot on drums, Fiachra McCarthy on guitar and Michael Stevens (of Groom and many other excellent bands) on bass. As Joss said, no original members were left by the end of Capratone. I believe we kept the name simply because we couldn’t come up with a new one, apparently I have a problem naming things. When I ended up opening music studios and practice spaces in Brooklyn after moving there, I asked Joss if I could use the name of his label Scientific Laboratories because I loved it so much and couldn't think of an alternative.”

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I think it’s well worth including here what happened with Richie’s next band Sport of Kings. “My love of fidelity only increased as the years continued except my focus switched from The Beach Boys to Steely Dan. I because obsessed with doing an indie rock version of their music and Sport of Kings took that direction. The initial line-up was drums, bass guitars and Fender Rhodes and then we added a horn section and a drummer from NYU’s Jazz Program who were incredible and took things to a whole different level.”

“After our Logic House EP, we made a full record (15 songs to be called Queer Theorem) with Michael Leonhart of Steely Dan as producer and occasional synth/horns/vocals contributor. This was essentially a dream come true for me. Initial tracking was done by me at a studio in Brooklyn and painstaking overdubbing, vocals and mixing was done by myself and Michael at his mixing room in the city. Ironically, we recorded yet another version of ‘Free Jazz’ with Michael. I’m not sure why I keep rerecording it but it might have something to do with Andrew and I finding out Brian Wilson used to record ‘Proud Mary’ every time he went into a new studio to check the sonics. I think I now have 4 completed versions!”

“I put an enormous amount of effort into Queer Theorem but it took so long that by the time it was ready, many band members were so in demand by big artists that they had little time to give. Keeping a 7-piece band of amazing musicians afloat proved too difficult and I disbanded the group rather than trying to recruit new musicians. I had also taken that level of fidelity to its conclusion and I returned to looser music after moving to Portland, OR.”

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The next ‘band’ Andrew founded was solo project The Asteroids. I don’t think he ever presented it live but there was just one release, an exquisite three track 10″/CD, Moonlight Music For Beginners, which was released on Joss Moorkens’ Scientific Laboratories label in 2000 (the same year as The Art of Go). You can listen to what has to be my favourite song, ‘Nine Lives’ at link below (the other two songs can helpfully be found on the same channel and I’ve linked them here). According to the sleeve notes it took two years to record, with I assume Andrew playing all the instruments and doing the programming etc. I was sure to pick this up on vinyl at the time and have cherished it since. The amazing paintings on front and back were by the artist Niamh McGrath.

‘Nine Lives’ is so laid back, rich in instrumentation but for me it’s all about Andrew’s vocals (Alan Kelly of The Last Post also provides additional backing vocals). The lyrics prove to be the real earworm for me, “Who is the man, who has done this to you?” with an unexpected lyrical twist at the end. The song has somehow burrowed its way into my consciousness and over the past 20 years has been liable to play in my head at any time. ‘Return Of The Moonlightman’ is more sparse and based again around the vocal arrangement, a second deeper voice (John Parkinson) enters the fray about halfway and it goes to another level with a lovely gradual close. ‘The Great Escape’ is dominated by a really warm organ sound that pulls you along. This one in particular reminds me of Brian Wilson, one of Andrew’s touchstone influences. It’s one of those releases which has dated really well in my opinion and is pretty much unknown I think (I don’t know how many were pressed or sold). There was so much promised with this release and frankly it’s something of a shame it was not followed up at the time. If Andrew had been signed or whatever then things might have happened differently but like all of the bands I’ve written about in this series, we’re lucky to have what we have and the music will last forever. You can still find it for sale on Discogs and it can be played and purchased on iTunes and Tidal. There was one other song from this period, ‘Lunar Doo Wop’, released on a compilation CD included free with the first Foggy Notions magazine. I vaguely remember it but can no longer find my copy (the title tells us all we need to know!).

Sometime in 2005 or later I bumped into Andrew and he gave me a CD from his latest group The Metronoids. It was a two track disc in a plastic wallet (no cover artwork or personnel details) called Petroleum. Today this doesn’t even exist on Discogs never mind anywhere else! Until I asked Andrew about it I wasn’t sure if this had simply been a promo but he told me there was artwork etc. The reason I probably never saw it for sale is that I left Dublin in 2005. For a bit more information I had to dig into the data on the CD itself and found that the track names are simply ‘Petroleum 1 & 2′ and for what it’s worth the genre on iTunes comes up as Blues (not sure how this gets assigned). It’s a pleasant listen (the more spirited second track is my favourite) but it surprised me very much to find it was all drums/percussion and obviously nothing like what he’d done before. This would be the only release under the name, which I imagine is pretty rare to come across.

I obviously had to get Andrew to explain The Metronoids to me, “This was a project I really enjoyed. Done in 2004/5 with Joss and Marc Hayes (drummer from The Moustaches, Boxes). It was always a real pleasure to be in a room with those two guys. I think we did a handful of rehearsals and one recording session. The idea was drum improv within premeditated structures. All three of us played drums. I think I got the notion to do a project that required a different kind of listening from my love of the CD called Guitar Solo by Annette Krebs.”

I wasn’t aware of this at the time but Andrew, Joss and Fiachra briefly reunited as The Lamps in 2005 but as far as I know while there were some live gigs there were no releases. Since then Andrew has told me he is currently working on two new music projects, “One with Fiachra Lennon is called Fig/Astro, it started in 2018, we should be finished an LP this year. He wrote a bunch of instrumental tracks and sent them to me. At his request I turned the instrumentals into songs, and the productions are evolving from there with both of us working on it via WeTransfer. He is a real natural musician so the songs have a very solid foundation. It was refreshing to write songs this way from track to song, rather than from song to track as I had always done previously. My own LP has been in the pipeline since 2009 when I wrote a load of songs and set out to record them in-the-box. Some of the songs went through over 20 productions. Working on a finite group of productions over a long period, under the microscope of Digital Audio Workstation has really allowed me to discover how to do my own thing. The work on this solo album takes a lot of focus.”

After Capratone Joss would go on to play with Joan of Arse and The Dudley Corporation and guest on many other releases, most of these can be found on his impressive Discogs entry. When I was doing my research for this piece I was excited to find an old Souncloud page for The Asteroids I never knew existed, it has two unreleased tracks which date from about 2014 but Andrew said the music since then has been become more abstract. Fiachra meanwhile has a bulging Soundcloud page full of his own demos that is very worth exploring too. Both of them are also on Twitter, The Asteroids and Fiachra. It will have been a long time coming but I’m looking forward to the next new releases from both these artists.

Sometimes the best things take time.

Stephen Rennicks

#capratone #the asteroids #the metronoids #andrew lyster #fiachra lennon #joss moorkens #richie kelly #folkrum records #the art of go #moonlight music for beginners #sport of kings #the world of pugh #dublin #music #1990s #2000s

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