#George is the only reason he’s close to sane

[idkimtiredanddumb]

Lockwood *visibly twitching, unblinking eyes with dark circles underneath clearly having not slept in days, deathly pale, hair a greasy mess, a half crazed too wide smile on his face* : how would you like to join the agency im about to found with currently only me as a member oh and live in my house stranger I’m meeting for the first time?

George: … I would love to absolutely let’s be best friends

[g1rld1ary]

to build a home ; anthony lockwood x reader

➻ this turned out so different from my plan lols but honestly I love

➻ word count: 2573

➻ synopsis: you're the only member of Lockwood & Co. who doesn't live at Portland Row... but maybe you should

➻ warnings: reader has blonde hair + freckles (only mentioned once), can be read as strictly platonic or light romance, deep loving friendships between Lockwood & Co

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You’d been working for Lockwood & Co. for almost four months and you loved it. Your three coworkers were more than welcoming and you made a pretty good team. Your Touch was what they had been looking for and business was positively booming. You had more cases than ever — or so they told you, and were busy working more nights than not. The only catch was, you didn’t live at Portland Row with the others.

No, when you grew into your talent and started training to become an agent, your parents weren’t exactly supportive. You knew it was all out of love, but you had to fight for weeks to be allowed to start your training, and only ended up getting your way by agreeing to keep living at home; forgoing the dorms when you worked at Rotwell, and now missing out on living with Lockwood & Co.

You didn’t usually mind, your family was great, but it did create a bother after long cases when you had to stay in the taxi waiting to get home later. Plus, you ended up spending much of your time in their home anyway, researching or debriefing around cases, and rushing off just before curfew set in. However, it did occasionally make you sad to leave your friends knowing that they got to share meals and all the intimate, everyday moments that come with being housemates.

The rest of the company felt similarly to you. Going through life or death cases every other day brought you all close in the few months you’d been employed, and now they found silences in their meals that they knew you would fill or questions they knew you could answer.

However, as much as they appreciated your role in the company and the friendship that you’d all established, one thing still puzzled all three employees. You always looked good. Not necessarily pretty, though many would call you that — you always looked done up. Well manicured. You’d now been on countless cases with Lockwood & Co and they’d seen you bloody and bruised, but never casual. There was even the time you’d been (briefly) held hostage by a relic man, where you’d emerged hours later with your makeup mostly intact — though mixed with a healthy dose of blood — and flyaways gelled flat. It was a sort of superpower, Lucy had remarked at the time. You’d just laughed, explaining that keeping yourself done up was your way of keeping sane. Maybe you couldn’t change the things around you, but you were always in control of yourself. George had raised his eyebrows in Lockwood’s direction, probably intending to call you a control freak, but Lockwood was oblivious. He admired the way you were so collected all the time.

You and the team returned from a case relatively early on a Thursday night — not yet into the early hours of the next morning like usual. You’d decided to join your friends inside Portland Row on this occasion, reasoning that you probably wouldn’t be going to sleep anytime soon and had some work you’d rather be doing. Whilst you saw the others head upstairs, presumably savouring the hours of sleep ahead of them, you directed your attention to the library, planting yourself under a lamp and pulling out some research for the next case.

You weren’t nervous about spending time in the house by yourself; you did it often enough through the daytime and knew what to do when you left. Make sure the lights were all out, the protections were in place, and lock the door behind you with the key Lockwood had copied for you. That didn’t mean you weren’t pleased when you glanced up and saw Lockwood was your company for the night, evidently appearing when you were lost in focus.

“Oh, hey, Lockwood,” You said quietly, careful not to startle him from his reading. You smiled slightly when he looked up quickly, eyes focusing in on you.

“Hi. Are you finally staying the night?” You swore he sounded almost nervous, but you figured that must’ve been his exhaustion, a side of him you’d never seen. You shook your head slowly.

“I just wanted to finish this idea I have before I lose it. Might finally give us a lead on the Backwell case.” Lockwood smiled, a lopsided, infectious thing that had charmed you your very first interview with him.

“I’d give you a raise if we had the profits, you’re clearly our hardest worker,” He joked, then suddenly grew very genuine. “You know you’re always welcome here, right? I’d— we’d love for you to move in one day, but even staying the night. We all hate to leave you on your own after these cases.” You felt yourself smiling, flattered by both the praise and the care Lockwood was sharing. In the four months you’d known him he’d been an excellent friend, someone you could always share a joke with, but he hardly ever gave any indication of his feelings. George had hinted it was because of a tragic family backstory that you’d never pressed for, but you preened under his attentions nonetheless, growing very fond of the man behind the mask from the glimpses you’d received. Regardless you shook your head again, reiterating your family’s rules for the millionth time with a small grimace. Not long after you excused yourself to the bathroom, needing to freshen up if you were going to achieve anything.

Rinsing your face clean over the sink, you borrowed one of Lucy’s makeup wipes to remove the layer of foundation covering your skin. You undid yourself for the evening, ready to power through a research branch you’d found before calling it a night and travelling home. On your way back you stopped in the kitchen for some tea, and catching a glance of Lockwood in the library, pulled his mug out too.

You couldn’t help the warmth in your heart when you thought about them buying a mug just for you when you were employed, despite you not even living there. Plus, the cute little flowers painted on made you recognise that they paid attention to you and your personality. Sometimes it was hard to feel so isolated from the rest of the company, but you gratefully recognised the effort each member put in to combat that. In return you made Lockwood’s tea the funny way he liked it, proof that you listened as well.

Holding a steaming mug in each hand you returned to the library, cautiously placing Lockwood’s on the side table next to him as quietly as you could manage. Seeing the cup appear in his periphery he smiled. He glanced up to thank you but the words stopped in his throat when he saw you looking different than ever before. For the first time your face was completely clear of makeup, revealing blonde eyelashes you usually hid under black mascara and a collection of light freckles concealed under foundation. Additionally, your hair — usually slicked back into a bun or braid that was practical for the physical nature of your job — was loose and evidently brushed through so it fell around your face, curls reforming around the base of your neck. The contrast was almost enough for Lockwood to believe you’d been swapped with a twin whilst you’d been gone.

Suddenly Lockwood felt robbed. This was what your family was keeping from him? Before he could tame his imagination he could see you at the breakfast table each morning, soft with tiredness and bed hair resting around your shoulders or like now at night, simply existing as yourself without your defence barrier against the world. He missed the reality he hadn't received, the tiny moments of your life that you’d never live in Portland Row.

You finally caught his attention, worried at his daydreaming. When he waved you off with a laugh you returned to your work, quizzical glance lingering just a moment too long.

The both of you sat in silence for a while, enjoying the peace that had settled over the room. However when you found some letters that confoundingly skewed the timeline you’d been developing, you couldn’t resist asking, “Hey, would you take a look at this?” In a moment Lockwood was out of his armchair and on the couch cushion next to yours, skimming the pages you handed him. When he moved up to reach for more you ignored his knee touching yours. And the comforting heat that emanated off it. When you made eye contact — only an intimate few inches apart — you saw the odd, distant look in his eye again and asked him about it.

“I like you like this,” He confessed and you cocked your head. “You know, natural. Your hair messy, no makeup. Not that I don’t like your makeup! It always looks really great and perfect and I totally respect all your meaning behind it, it’s just… You feel almost real without it, down with the rest of us mere mortals. Like you live here.” Your whole face felt hot at his rambling, the uneven smile that had crept onto his face piercing straight through skin to your heart.

“You think I’m not real?” You chose to focus on, unable to keep resisting when he asked you to stay.

“You’re always perfect — uh, look perfect, even when we’ve been awake for 30 hours and almost died twice. At some point I have to start wondering if you’re really human.” He tried to play it off as a joke but you were pretty sure, despite the dim lighting, that the tips of his ears were tinged pink. You tried to wave the conversation off casually, but you had to read the next line of research four times before you could take any of it in.

You worked surprisingly well in tandem, your brains appearing to problem solve in a similar manner, ideas being thrown and woven easily, each of you latching on to the brightest parts of the previous sentence. It was a welcome surprise, you usually ended up working with George in the field since Lockwood and Lucy were so coordinated in action, but the allocation didn’t work so much in research. Lucy and Lockwood de-motivated each other in their least favourite part of the job, and you and George almost always dissolved into petty arguments, his black-and-white way of thinking butting heads with your more creative methods. This opened new possibilities for future cases.

When your issue had been solved Lockwood didn’t move, much to your surprise, instead asking for you to pass what he’d been reading before. You quirked an eyebrow when you saw it was a trashy tabloid, another domestic habit you were just learning about, but neglected to say anything. Lockwood had magazines, you had your appearance. Everyone had their ways to cope and destress. He leant against the back of the old couch, side still against yours, and continued on with his reading. You turned back to your research, but you wouldn’t deny that you might have leant back into him when you came across a particularly long document, chasing the warmth he so generously provided.

That was how Lucy found you in the morning; the two of you pressed together in the middle of the couch, the size of it no excuse for your proximity. She’d run back upstairs immediately to fetch George, and they both watched you for a minute, your sleeping head on Lockwood’s shoulder the picture of domestic bliss. George made a comment about your natural appearance, with a hint of what Lucy could only suppose was affection (but it happened so rarely she could never be totally sure), and she couldn’t help but agree. Although neither of them had seen this version of you before it felt totally natural, like you falling asleep on their couch after a long night of research was a habit that was always meant to happen rather than a surprise first sleepover. When the kettle Lucy had turned on began to whistle they both disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you and Lockwood to wake up on your own.

When your eyes fluttered open they fell immediately on Lockwood who was already gazing down at you, pupils filled with warmth and fondness. The sight calmed you easily before your brain woke up and realised that it should absolutely not be happening. You were up off the couch in a second, the chill your body felt overpowered by the panic in your brain. Your parents never waited for you after a case, needing the sleep for their day jobs and trusting you to let yourself in through the backdoor, but that meant their fears of you not being in your bed in the morning would be heightened.

Lockwood quickly caught on to your train of thought and rushed to calm you down, both hands on your shoulders to at least stop your frenetic pacing. He easily quelled your anxiety, his calmer disposition taking the lead to dial your landline, waiting with you as you explained everything to your parents, apologising profusely and taking their scolding with complete understanding. When you were done you sagged in relief, a slow exhale passing your lips.

“How about something to eat?”

Breakfast was one of the only things you’d never done at Portland Row (especially now you’d ticked sleeping off the bucket list). You’d had countless lunches and afternoon teas while researching, and even a few early dinners before curfew or a case, but never breakfast. It was different, but so lovely.

The food for one was of the same standard, George remaining your favourite of the company just for his meals, each one a bite of heaven. The energy was different though. Whilst most of your meals together were noisy; raucous laughter over impassioned discussions or meaningless arguments, breakfast was quiet, but still not in the way that sometimes fell after a promising lead came up useless or someone returned injured. No, breakfast at Portland Row was the kind of quiet that felt like a homemade blanket laying over your shoulders, the kind you’d find lying next to a stream in summer. The only conversation made was about the meal itself, requests for more milk or jam, or else murmured plans for domestic goals, any talk of burdening cases or violence banished until a later hour.

When the three residents looked at you, it was like you’d always been there with them, a piece of the furniture that belonged in Portland Row to greet them each morning in your natural state, before any of the protective walls had been built up. When Lockwood looked at you, a key part of his company in his family home, a crumb of toast settled insistently on your lip, he wondered why the fourth chair at the dining table was ever empty. They all knew it wasn’t right without you.

When you finally took your leave, all four of you were thinking the same thing: you needed to be at Portland Row. It was where you belonged.

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Trey: *Trying to explain Riddle is that way because of his mom*

Me: Give me a minute as I pull up my ‘Trauma Doesn’t Excuse Sh*t Behavior’ PowerPoint.

Say it with me, everyone: an explanation is not an excuse 😊

You know, the other day I was watching one of Ryan George's Pitch Meetings and when Producer Guy asked Writer Guy how the audience would root for the villain of the franchise and the response was "he's handsome" which basically explains most people's reactions to fictional men.

Prepare for incoming rant that has little to do with the ask

This probably might come as a shock because one of the main appeal of twst would be the whole villainous aspect/Disney Villain fanbase but I don't really like villains that much, at least, not romantically. Like don't get me wrong, I think that they're incredible characters and it would be so fun to sit down with one and have a conversation with one. Villain songs are so fun (I was literally singing ‘This Day Aria’ to myself the other day I haven’t heard that song in like a decade) and you can tell that that characters like Scar or Hades or Shere Khan or Jafar or Maleficent are having so much fun being deliciously evil and even the more serious, complex ones like Loki or Frollo are fun to pick apart so yeah I understand the hype. I just always rooted for the heroes and I guess heroic characters have always been more my type.

My mother absolutely loves Erik Destler and is forever salty that Christine chose Raoul (despite my many many attempts at arguing why Raoulstine is the superior couple - smol primary school me could not understand why my mum liked the chandelier dropper and was deeply concerned), my best friend has been in love with Heathcliffe since we were eleven, and my little sister has literally told me that her type of fictional men are the toxic red flags (not exactly word for word but she did explain why she likes bad boys over good boys when I was complaining about how my type (wholesome soft boys) always get sidelined for the arrogant, snarky bad boys - we're also very diametrically opposed on our views of friends to lovers (my s++ tier all time favourite and her loathing) vs enemies to lovers (I can't really stand it - Pride and Prejudice is the only exception - and that's literally all she consumes) so that might also be a reason).

Like, I understand the appeal of a Byronic hero (Mr Darcy has far too much power) - a closed off, broody man that hates everything but you? And will burn down the world to keep you warm? I can respect that there are people who dig that. But their not really for me.

The mild bout of insanity thirteen year old me had where I spent two months attracted to Edward Rochester is an outlier and should not have been counted (though that was during my wattpad phase so...)

But I can admit that I have yet to shake off my feelings for Dr Henry Jekyll, Victor Frankenstein and Dorian Gray (though to be fair, Mr Gabriel John Utterson the lawyer and cinnamon roll artist boy Basil Hallward do own my heart). And yes, Jeremy Jordan did make me question my morality as he did make my feelings for Light Yagami be too positive to be sane for a brief moment (Touta Matsuda is still my man, don't worry). But apart from them, literally all of my faves are what you'd call your traditional, morally upright heroes.

Basically what I'm saying is that my perception might be skewed because I've never had the whole 'villains are cooler' mindset when it came to stories. Yes, I love the villains as characters but I always liked their heroic foils more (goodness is just so attractive to me). You get lots of amazing heroic protagonists that have horribly tragic backstories and they're the ones I always fall for because the idea of being a kind sweetheart despite the world being anything but is just *chef's kiss* that's a kind of strength that's so swoon-worthy.

I guess that's why it's harder for me to look past the characters' actions in twst is because, well, they chose to do everything they did. They made a conscious choice to be terrible, despite understanding the consequences. Riddle may have been brainwashed into becoming a tyrant by his mother but he still admitted that he knew he was being horrible - he understands the concept of morality, of good and bad, and he willingly and deliberately did everything he did.

I suppose this text post I found on Pinterest would explain my point better:

[tehuti88-art]

7/21/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Walther Dannecker. He's the husband of Margit Dannecker and father of Lt. Col. Ernst Dannecker. He's deceased by the time of the main storyline and happened to meet a particularly unfortunate end because his entire family is messed up. There'll be more about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding his design, he's a Siberian husky.

TUMBLR EDIT: Walther is the posthumous background character father of another posthumous secondary character (Lt. Col. Dannecker appears only in flashback in the bulk of the story, Reborn and Reunion, and has nothing to do with Ultima Thule, though I'm unsure about Genesis--he does play a major role in the "lore" prequel story Weltuntergang, however), therefore I've not developed his own background yet, if ever. I imagine he had a normal middle-class upbringing. Most of his action in the storyline, including his disturbing end, can be found in Margit Dannecker's entry.

The Dannecker family is hopelessly f**ked up, for want of a better term, though Walther himself is actually sane and stable. Unlike other characters who start out good but go bad, such as Georg Klemper or Jürgen Werner, Walther is genuinely decent, and never falls down that particular hole; he just has the misfortune to marry into a family line with lots of problems he can't fix. When he finally does learn the extent and seriousness of what's going on, he even correctly identifies his son Ernst as a victim--despite Ernst willingly participating in his mother's actions, he's not old enough to make such decisions on his own. Result, Walther's anger is aimed at Margit, not Ernst. He realizes that the only reasonable course of action is to separate the two, and accordingly sends Ernst off to a military academy. It's an act that ensures both wife and son will forever hate him, though he hopes they'll come back to their senses, and even if they don't...well, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

Walther is a good person, like I said, and that's why it doesn't occur to him that his son Ernst, aside from being victimized by his mother, was additionally just born broken. If not a full-blown psychopath, Ernst is quite close, and that's something that no amount of motherly "love" or fatherly discipline can fix. Margit herself starts to catch on as to their son's true dark nature after he comes home from the Great War--full grown now, and taller and stronger than his own father--and treads carefully. Walther never has the chance to reach this realization, mostly because Ernst murders him before he can, but also because, being a good person himself, it simply goes against everything he's ever known or learned about people, to realize that some of them are just born bad. Walther figures that, like Margit (who's not what I'd technically call a "bad person," but does do bad things), bad people are made that way through their experiences (Margit, too, was similarly abused by her own father), not born that way--why would it ever occur to him that a child who's been raised sternly but was otherwise loved and well cared for might turn out broken, anyway? The concept is just beyond his understanding. Even if someone were to inform him, I bet he would've thought there was something he could do, to change his son for the better. Walther is no fatalist.

This is a hopeless task, however, and Ernst has a lot stacked against him. Walther's attempt to straighten him out by sending him to the military academy, and by extension unwittingly sending him to the Western Front (he hadn't counted on war actually breaking out while Ernst was away), only exacerbates Ernst's dysfunction by teaching him how to be an even more effective predator and killer. Ironically, Walther--in an attempt to save his family by saving his son--ends up helping Ernst destroy it. (Ernst Dannecker then carries on the tradition by victimizing his stepdaughter Gret, who then, with the aid of another of his victims, helps kill him, in turn. She takes his honor sword both as a trophy, and as a means to protect herself...far better than Ernst ever did.)

Walther ends up a victim of not just his own broken family, but also his own good yet misguided intentions...well, Ernst Dannecker later earns the nickname "Der Teufel" (the Devil), and what is the road to Hell paved with, after all? As well, he becomes just another rusty cog in the malfunctioning machinery of the Dannecker clan, all too easily disposed of and forgotten after playing his part in ensuring the family's collapse.

Maybe, though, in some small roundabout way, that's a good thing after all.

[Walther Dannecker 2023 [‎Friday, ‎July ‎21, ‎2023, ‏‎2:00:52 AM]]

[lilahisntsadanymore]

Y/n is Sirius' daughter, after he went to Azkaban she lives with the Malfoys, who sent her to Durmstrang. Then the Triwizard Tournament happens and she meets George Weasley. They get close extremely quick.

I know Durmstrang didn't have many girl students (none in the movie lol) but let's say in this fanfic there are as many girls as boys.

This has some potential for a second part. A second part was actually the reason why I made Y/n Sirius' daughter, but I don't know anymore how I feel about it.

Pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader

Words count: 4.7k

Tw: mentions of food in Honeydukes

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Love at first sight

Dark. This single word described the Durmstrang Institute perfectly. The corridors were filled with strange energy and the classrooms had a disturbing vibe. However, most of the students were used to that. Studying in Durmstrang meant you had to submit to all the tough rules, even those that were unwritten.

Y/n got used to that, she didn't mind it. She was naturally more of a person who doesn't let their emotions show, as most of the students.

It was one of those not-so-cold-yet days (a day where you could almost see the sun), so Y/n decided to spend time outside. The Triwizard Tournament was coming up and Y/n was in the delegation, so she wanted to practice the entrance. Some exercises similar to muggle square bashing with a bo staff. It was sort of a short show the students were supposed to perform as they entered Hogwarts, where the Tournament was being held.

"What are you up to?" A sweet voice with a strong russian accent approached Y/n.

Alisa. Y/n's best friend. She was the most cheerful and kind person Y/n had ever knew. Alisa was also one of the not many people who didn't let the school rules get in their heads and change them. She was the only thing keeping Y/n sane in such a disturbing place.

She was also the most of a family Y/n had. The girl didn't know much about her family, she was adopted by the Malfoys. All they told her about her real parents was that her father was disowned and a criminal and she should be 'grateful they decided to take her in'. But that was all she knew.

"Just practicing." Y/n replied shortly. "Can't embarrass the school."

"You would be the last person I'd think could be capable of embarrassing us."

"Thank you, but practise makes perfect."

"You left the dorm so early today. A few minutes ago you got an owl with a letter."

Alisa gave Y/n an envelope with her name and last name on it. Despite her being adopted by the Malfoys, her last name remained Black. She wasn't a pureblood, so they didn't want her to have their last name.

Y/n,

We've heard about the Triwizard Tournament and that you're in Durmstrang's delegation. We must forbid you to visit Hogwarts, you won't be safe there. You know about your father escaping from Azkaban, he's a dangerous criminal and we don't want to put your life at risk. Lucius will talk with headmaster Karkaroff as soon as possible.

Narcissa

Y/n couldn't believe her eyes. When she was home, they hated her and made her feel like an intruder. But suddenly now they care about Y/n's life being put at risk when there's a chance she could somehow meet her biological father. Y/n heard that a year ago he broke into Hogwarts. She was quietly hoping to meet him. Honestly, Y/n had a feeling he couldn't be a bad person despite everything the Malfoys had told her about him.

"What's it about?" Alisa asked, noticing Y/n finished reading.

"Narcissa and Lucius don't want me to go." Y/n answered. When talking to friends, she used adoptive parents' names, but formally she was supposed to say mother and father as much as she hated to say it.

"Oh no! What are you going to do now?"

"This."

Y/n folded the letter in a ball and used her wand to set it on fire. Then, she thew it in the air and hit it with her bo staff as if it was a baseball bat.

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After the conversation with Alisa, Y/n rushed to the head master's office. Lucius could appear at any time and Y/n had to be earlier than him.

As the girl was about to open the door of Karkaroff's office, she felt something on her shoulder. It was nothing else than Lucius' hand.

"Where do you think you're going?" The man asked in a dark tone.

"I've got Nar- mother's letter," Y/n turned around to face him, "you are not stopping me from going to Hogwarts."

"Unfortunately, I have to. You know it's for...your own good."

"Why would you suddenly care about me? I've felt like an unwanted guest at your house ever since I can remember and now you care."

"I won't stop you, go on, tell the headmaster that it's a good idea to travel to a place where you might get kidnapped or killed."

Y/n sent Lucius and furious stare. Then, she opened the door to the head master's office without hesitation. And without knocking, but she forgot about it because of all the anger flowing through her body. Lucius walked in right after the girl.

"Headmaster, I want to say that everything my father is going to say is not a good idea, don't listen to him. I really want to go to Hogwarts and-" Y/n started, but Karkaroff interrupted her.

"Ah, yes, I've received a letter form Mrs Malfoy." The headmaster announced. "Good morning, Mr Malfoy."

"Morning. I think we are of the same opinion, Mr Karkaroff?" Lucius asked with satisfaction written on his face. "If the situation was different, we would let Y/n go. I hope you understand."

"Unfortunately, I must insist on Y/n going. She's one of our best students. I understand your concern, but I assure we will do everything to keep her safe."

"She is 16 years old, she can't compete in the Tournament anyway. What's the point of her going?"

"She is smart, well-trained and well-behaved, she will make a good impression. We need to show off Durmstrang's best side. It is not only about the Tournament."

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A few weeks later it was the time to go. They traveled by a ship that could safely go underwater with a little help of magic. They arrived at Hogwarts on October 30th, as planned.

Firstly, the students from Beauxbatons walked in. Y/n watched as they paced through the Great Hall gracefully, looking very mesmerizing. Eventually, they sat by the Ravenclaw table.

As the time came for the Durmstrang students, Y/n wasn't nervous. It were supposed to be just a few seconds, maybe a minute. They walked in, marching and doing tricks. Some of them, like Y/n, were doing tricks with bo staffs. The rest of Durmstrang students were doing tricks with their bodies. It all looked so effortless, but they were preparing for the past few weeks.

As Karkaroff was being greeted by the headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore, Y/n looked around the Great Hall. Her eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table. She saw someone she guessed was Harry Potter. Near him there was a bunch of redheads sitting. She looked a little longer at two boys her age who looked identical. Suddenly, one of them looked at her. He smiled and winked, so Y/n quickly turned around. Then she walked to the Slytherin table among the rest of Durmstrang delegation students.

"Didn't expect you here." Said a voice Y/n knew well. Draco, the son of Narcissa and Lucius. He was supposed to attend Durmstrang as well, but Narcissa said it's too far away from home.

"Why? D'you think I'm not good enough?" Y/n asked.

"No, you're just not old enough to take a part in the Tournament."

"Karkaroff said it's not only about the Tournament."

"What else? Those Weasley twins?" Draco changed the subject. He said it with such disrespect, Y/n could feel he loathes them just by the tone of his voice.

So they were Weasleys. Y/n remembered the name from several stories from Lucius' work. He always sounded like he hated them as well as Draco. Now Y/n had to find out only the names of the twins. Or at least the one who winked at her.

"What're their names?" The girl casually asked.

"What, those Weasleys?" Draco scoffed. "Don't even think about socializing with those traitors."

"Just tell me, Draco. Or I'll tell father about that one time I caught you smoking a muggle cig-"

"Fine, fine! They're Fred and George. But don't ask me which is which, I never know."

"Thank you." Y/n smirked.

As Draco started talking with Viktor Krum, Y/n's friend and a quidditch player a lot of people from Hogwarts seemed to be excited about, Y/n stared at the Gryffindor table. Draco told her not to talk to Weasleys, so she had to hit them up after the Welcoming Feast was over.

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Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were going to stay at Hogwarts for the next few months, which meant Y/n and her schoolmates had to sleep and study on the ship they arrived on. It looked scary from the outside, but it had really nice and spacious rooms.

Y/n didn't manage to catch the twins after the Feast ended, so she tried to do it on the next day. But what could be her excuse for approaching them?

"Hey, I've been told not to talk to you, so I thought I totally have to talk to you." Y/n said, sitting next to them in the Great Hall. It was a break time so she had enough time to get to know them.

"Well, hello there." The two redheads replied in unison.

"I believe we...caught each other's eyes yesterday, didn't we?" One of the twins noticed.

"I pretty much believe so."

"We're Fred and George," said the other twin, "and you are...?"

Now Y/n noticed they aren't exactly the same. If she really paid attention to their faces, she could notice there are some small differences.

"Y/n, Y/n Black." The girl replied, smiling.

"Black?" Both twins were surprised.

"What, is that a problem?"

"No, not at all, we just-" George started, but Fred lightly kicked his ankle, "we expected a different name. You're a Durmstrang student and- you know."

"I'm from England. I should mention I live with the Malfoys. I think my...father works with yours. Or something." Y/n could barely choke out the word father. Lucius wasn't a bad parent, but still she hated calling him that name.

"Your father?" The twin Y/n assumed to be Fred chuckled. "Why aren't you a Malfoy then? Was there some out-of-wedlock drama, or...?"

"To be honest, it's a long story..."

"Don't worry, love," George assured, "we do love long stories, don't we, Fred?"

"That is correct." The other twin added.

Y/n told the boys everything she knew. What bad could happen anyways?

Fred and George were good listeners, Y/n felt comfortable sharing her whole life story with them. As she was done, her eyes stopped on the Goblet of Fire. Students had little time to put their names in it, Y/n had to think of a way to do it. There was this age line circle around the Goblet that didn't let her or anyone else underaged get close to the Goblet. Y/n had time until this evening's Halloween Feast.

"Are you thinking about putting your name in the Goblet?" George asked, noticing the way the girl looked at the huge blue flame.

"Maybe." Y/n admitted. "But I'll be 17 in a few months unfortunately."

"Thankfully we don't have to worry about that." A chuckle escaped Fred's mouth. "Am I right, George?"

"Absolutely right, Fred," George high fived Fred and smiled mischievously.

Y/n didn't notice their face impressions, because she was still looking at the Goblet. She probably didn't even properly listen to the conversation.

"Hey, um," the girl looked at a watch on her wrist, "I have to go. D'you wanna hang out later?"

"Would love to." George answered before Fred could open his mouth. "After the Feast?"

"Alright. See you later!"

As Y/n walked away, she turned around to smile at the twins. The both of them smiled back. Y/n locked eyes for longer than she should with George.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Y/n rushed to find someone who could help her. She didn't personally know most of the delegation students from her school, they were all from a year above so she didn't really talk to them.

"Johan, Johan!" Y/n ran up to one of the two boys she knew.

"Yeah?" The Norwegian boy looked up from a book he was reading.

"You want to put your name into the Goblet of Fire, right?"

"Yes and?"

"I'd appreciate if you could also put this..." the girl slipped a small paper with her name onto the boy's book.

Johan looked at it.

"No way. You're underage."

"Oh please, you're just scared I'd actually be chosen and won. And you don't want a girl to win because you're a misogynist."

"Yeah. What's your point?" The boy shrugged. He took he paper in his hand and closed it in a fist. When he opened it after a few seconds, the paper disappeared.

"You're a dickhead. I don't know why did I even ask you for help."

"You're welcome!" Johan shouted as Y/n was walking away.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

When Y/n was about to ask the other boy for help, she got called to meet her headmaster. She walked to the ship. It was empty by this time of the day.

"I've heard you're trying desperately to put your name in the Goblet." Karkaroff said. "What do you have to say about that?"

"I'm sorry." Y/n realized there's no point in lying. "But I'll be 17 in a few months!"

"I really don't want to send you back to Durmstrang, Y/n, but I'm afraid your father was right."

"No, please. I wanna stay here."

"Then don't misbehave. Remember, it's not only about the Tournament. We have to show off our strength not only by the chosen champion. We're strong together."

"Right. Sorry. Just, don't tell my father, please?"

"If I hear about something like this again, I will."

With a straight face, Y/n nodded. After this short conversation she was free to go.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

As Y/n was walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, she was suddenly stopped. Her heart started beating faster as the Weasley twins surprised her appearing from around a corner where two corridors met.

"You scared me!" Y/n shouted, dramatically putting her hand on her chest.

"We're sorry love," George apologized, "we just wanted to ask if you'd like to watch us put our names in the Goblet."

"Alright, I don't have anything to do anyways."

"I like the enthusiasm!" Fred exclaimed sarcastically.

The trio walked together to the Great Hall. Y/n had already took a liking to the twins, they were fun to be around with. George was the nicer one. He was nothing like the boys at Durmstrang, which was impressive to Y/n.

Y/n thought Fred and George are of the right age to compete in the Tournament, but it turned out they weren't. They made a potion that was supposed to age them up a bit.

"This is not going to wooork." A girl Y/n didn't know the name of said as the twins were about to put their names in the Goblet.

"Oh yeah?" Fred asked. "And why's that, Granger?"

"Do you see the age line? Dumbledore drew it himself."

"So?"

"So a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by something pathetically dimwitted such as an age potion."

"That's why it's brilliant." George said and turned to his twin. "Ready Fred?"

"Ready George."

"Bottoms up." The twins said in unison and drank the aging potion.

Nothing seemed to change, but suddenly they were able to walk inside the circle. They put the papers with their names in the Goblet. Y/n smiled and cheered with everyone else.

Out of a sudden, the flame shoot smaller flames at the twins and they were flung across the room. They were on the floor, their hair were grey. Beards that grew on their faces just right now were also grey.

Fred and George pointed at each other, making of of how one another looks. Everyone else laughed.

The Great Hall went completely silent, as Viktor Krum walked in. He confidently walked up to the Goblet and put his name into the flame. Y/n noticed him locking eyes with the girl Fred called Granger.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"Who d'you think is going to be chosen from Hogwarts?" Y/n asked Draco a moment before the Feast had started.

"Dunno. Some Slytherin hopefully." The boy answered.

"Silence everyone!" Dumbledore yelled, approaching the Goblet as its blue flame turned red. "It's the moment everyone has been waiting for!"

A paper flew out of the flame straight into the old wizard's hand.

"The Durmstrang champion is... Viktor Krum!" He announced.

Y/n and her schoolmates cheered as Viktor stood up from the table. The girl was happy for him. If she couldn't take a part it in, she was glad that someone she talked to sometimes got chosen.

"The Beauxbatons champion is Fleur Delacour!" Dumbledore read from an artsy folded paper.

A beautiful blonde girl stood up as other Beauxbatons students cheered for her. She walked the same direction as Viktor.

"And now the Hogwarts champion. Cedric Diggory!" As Dumbledore read this name, loud screams of celebration filled the room. The boy stood up from the Hufflepuff table and walked in the direction champions from previous schools walked.

"Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory the tri-wizard cup!"

Everyone started applauding, thinking that's it. Well, it was supposed to be it. But suddenly the flame turned red again and spat out one more name.

"Harry Potter?" Dumbledore read. Confusion was visible in his voice. But he wasn't the only one confused.

"Harry Potter?" Y/n turned to her adoptive brother. "Isn't he your age?"

"He is! What the hell is happening?!" Draco disclaimed.

After the Feast, Y/n looked for the Weasley twins. She met them somewhere near the door of the Great Hall.

"So where are we going?" Y/n asked. "Y'know, you could walk me around Hogsmeade. I've heard it's nice."

"Uhh, actually," Fred scratched his neck, "you have to go with George alone. I have something to do."

"Wha-" George started but didn't get to finish.

"Yeah, I have to do...something."

"But-"

"See you later, have fun!"

Fred walked away in a quick pace with a mischievous smirk on his face. He left both his twin and Y/n confused.

"It's a date then." George joked with a smile on his face. "Let's go, shall we?"

The redhead offered Y/n his arm. The girl hooked it with her own. She expected to go to the huge exit door, but George pulled her in a different way.

"We can only go during weekends," he whispered, "I'll show you a different, secret way."

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

George led Y/n through a secret passage beneath a statue of a one-eyed witch. After saying the password, the statue revealed a slide, which the two students had to use. It was a short slide which ended in a tunnel that led them under the castle.

"Are we in Hogsmeade now?" Y/n asked. There wasn't much space in the tunnel, which made the girl feel a little scared.

"Of course not," George laughed, "it'll take us about one hour to get there."

"You've got to be kidding. Please tell me you're kidding."

"Well, if your real dad didn't break into Hogwarts a year ago there would be other passages. This one wasn't blocked because the only people that know about it are Fred, me, Harry and now also you. And the Marauders in the past."

"Who are the Marauders?"

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs but that's all I know. They most likely graduated from Hogwarts already."

"How did you find out about them? And the secret passages?"

"Hey, let's start walking. I can talk and walk at the same time."

"This might be a good idea."

The time would pass faster if they talked. Y/n asked George all kinds of questions about Hogwarts she could think of. So far, it seemed better than Durmstrang and she started regretting the Malfoys not sending her to Hogwarts.

"So basically there is a magic map that shows you everyone everywhere at the current time?" Y/n was curious about this idea. She and Alisa tried to make a similar thing, but they didn't manage to finish it.

"At Hogwarts, yes." George nodded with a smile on his face.

"And where is it? Do you have it?"

"No, we gave it to Harry because he was in a need of it and we memorized every passage anyways."

"I feel so sorry for Harry, he looked so confused. He couldn't put his name by himself. Is there any way he could avoid taking a part in the Tournament? There is already one Hogwarts champion that is actually an adult."

"I don't think there's a way to avoid it. I just wonder how did his name end up in the Goblet."

Time passed quickly when Y/n and George were talking. They enjoyed each other's company even though they met yesterday.

Y/n had a weird feeling in her stomach which she's never felt before. She was curious what could it be caused by, but she decided to ignore it.

The underground passage led them to a cellar of a shop. Y/n looked around and saw a lot of sweets.

"Take whatever you want, but be quiet. I'll check if it's possible to go outside." George whispered and walked somewhere.

Y/n took everything that could fit in her pockets, she regretted not taking any bag. There were so many things that looked so delicious. Lollipops, bars of chocolate, chocolate frogs, biscuits and more different kinds of sweets, it all looked very yummy. Y/n's pockets managed to fit a few chocolate frogs, some caramel cobwebs and few sugar quills. She knew she's stealing all these things, but the owner shouldn't even notice.

"Hey, Y/n, come here. Quickly." George weaved at the girl.

Y/n walked his direction as carefully as possible. Living with the Malfoys taught her how to sneak around without making a sound.

Y/n and George sneaked outside without getting caught. It was a pretty stressful moment for the girl, if she was noticed in Hogsmeade on a day when it's not allowed and stealing from a shop, she would be definitely sent back to Durmstrang.

"This was Honeydukes." George explained when they were far enough to be safe. "We could go to the Three Broomsticks but on the weekend-"

"Are you setting us up on a second date during our first date?" Y/n asked in a flirty tone of voice.

"So it is a date!" The boy smirked.

"Unless you mind calling it that name."

"I do not."

"And neither do I."

"Then it is a date."

Y/n shyly offered to hold hands and George gladly accepted the offer. They walked hand in hand. Maybe they knew each other for only one day, but they felt so comfortable as if they have been friends for years.

George walked with Y/n to a place nobody really ever visits. They were near the forest from where they could see the Shrieking Shack.

"The most haunted building in Scotland?" Y/n scoffed. "After living at the Malfoy manor, none place can scare me."

"Are you sure about that?" George chuckled.

"Definitely. Wanna find out?"

Y/n tried to pull the boy towards the Shrieking Shack, but he stopped her.

"Let's not go there."

"Oh, is the boy who used aging potion to try to enter the Tournament scared of a little haunted house?" Y/n mocked, trying to challange the Weasley.

"Me? Scared? Never."

"Then let's go! What's the worst that can happen?"

Out of a sudden, Y/n and George heard growling. They turned around to see a big black dog.

"I changed my mind, I think we should go somewhere else." Y/n said. Her voice sounded scared. Haunted places didn't scare her, but an animal that could hurt her was a potential danger.

"Oh please, now a dog scares you?" George chuckled. "He probably belongs to someone from the village, he can't be dangerous."

The boy extended his arm to the dog in the order to pet it, but the dog growled louder and eventually barked, showing its all sharp teeth. George's hand immediately backed out.

"Okay, yeah, we should go." The boy finally agreed with Y/n.

"Good idea." Y/n nodded and then turned to the dog. "Look, we're gonna go, okay? We didn't want to disturb you."

The dog's behavior changed. It didn't anymore look as if it was ready to bite, almost as if it understood what the girl said.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

It was late when Y/n and George came back to the castle. Y/n had so much fun on this unexpected date.

"So, when is the next date?" Y/n asked playfully.

"Whenever you wish, love." George replied.

And so, the second date took place on Saturday so that they could walk around Hogsmade legally. And with that dates on Saturdays became their little tradition. Of course they were spending time together also on other days. And people started noticing it. It was expectable, a lot of new romances blossomed between students from different schools.

Right before the Christmas break, Hogwarts had the Yule Ball. Obviously, it was for all the students from the three schools and the champions were supposed to 'open it' with a dance. Later on, others joined them, even teachers.

It was no surprise that Y/n went to the Ball with George. It was a lot of fun, they danced a lot but also had time to joke around. Y/n even got to know a few other Gryffindors.

"Hey, excuse me for a moment, I need to go get some fresh air." Y/n excused herself and walked out of the Great Hall.

She walked outside without any coat, but it would take her a longer while to get cold. Spending most of the time of the year in Norway made her tolerate low temperatures a bit more than people from different countries.

Y/n smiled happily to herself. She was so happy for how everything was going on currently. The past few weeks were the best time of her life.

"Are you alright, love?"

Y/n jumped up a bit as she heard George's voice, he surprised her.

"More than alright." Y/n answered truthfully.

"Aren't you cold?"

"Not yet. George, what are we?"

"Why are you asking me this?" He chuckled.

"Just curious. I want an honest answer. Y'know, I'll still like you no matter what-"

Y/n didn't get to finish as she was interrupted by George's lips crashing with hers. It was their first kiss. First kisses are usually awkward but that's the beauty of them.

"Does this count as an honest answer?" George asked.

"I suppose." Y/n smiled. If a few minutes ago she could call herself the happiest person on Earth, now she was even happier. Her mind was exploding with excitement and serotonin.

"Do you wanna go home with me on the break?"

The question surprised Y/n even more. She would love to go, but wasn't it to early? They barely knew each other.

"It's okay if you don't..." George assured, feeling more awkward each second that went by silent.

"It would be lovely!" Y/n exclaimed happily. Maybe this was what she needed. She wouldn't have anything to do at Hogwarts during the break anyways.

The couple kissed again. This kiss was way less awkward and very romantic. Suddenly, they were interrupted by two people cleaning their throats.

"Students are supposed to be in the Great Hall." Severus Snape said. Next to him stood Karkaroff.

"We're sorry." George apologized.

"I know you're not sorry."

"Y/n," Karkaroff chimed in, "I thought we talked about your behavior."

"What about it?" Y/n was annoyed by this comment. "Have you seen Viktor with Hermione Granger?"

"I am aware of their...relationship."

"Yet you don't see a problem. Why would it be any different with me?!"

"Calm down or you'll have to go back to Durmstrang."

"My bad, I just don't get it! I don't see where you see a problem."

"You've got your father's temper, that's for sure." Snape scoffed.

"Thank you." Y/n put on a proud smile on her face.

After exchanging a few looks, Y/n and George walked back to the Great Hall. They wouldn't let two teachers ruin their night.

[dreamsclock]

why george is the most interesting smp character... [sigh]

so this is going to be very incredibly focused on george’s dethronement arc, where he was dethroned on quackity’s stream. it’s an INCREDIBLY interesting stream in terms of dream as a character, but also, if we want to start looking for smp!george lore crumbs, for george too. pls note - any reference to any name is a reference to the character !!

[ @netheriteaxes THIS IS 2K+ WORDS I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS,, DROP THE ANGST FUCKER /lh]

under the cut for length !!

george is a manipulator. he’s a manipulator - maybe as much as dream is, maybe more. and the thing people don’t understand is that manipulation isn’t always a negative thing: technically, we’re manipulating someone every time we get them to do something for us without directly and honestly stating it. things like saying “it’s cold” and having someone else in the room close a window, flattering your sibling before asking them for a favour, bringing up the fact your parents didn’t let you go to the last sleepover in order to try and make them let you go to this one, et cetera. we all do it, and george is no exception in the smp! the only thing is, he’s very good at it. 

in the very beginning of the exile arc, we see a very good instance of george’s manipulation and the extent it works on dream. when his house burns down, nowhere does george tell dream “i want you to exile tommy for burning my house down” (at least not to my knowledge - granted, i’m running off my own memory right now, so if i’m wrong lemme know sidhfkdvl). instead, it’s implied through the little things and little gestures; going along with dream interrogating tommy in ‘trial’, playing up how upset he was, etc. it was EASY to rebuild the house and a minor everyday crime compared to other crimes that have been committed on the server, and george knew that. 

because here’s the thing about george - he doesn’t care. he doesn’t care about anything, other than entertainment. as soon as something isn’t fun, he’ll drop it, and if he sees an opportunity for entertainment, he’ll take it, no matter what it is. it’s why he participated in the l’manburg war and slept in for the elections, it’s why he built his house in the manberg/pogtopia final battle, it’s why he tried to indirectly get dream to exile tommy, despite having his house fixed quickly and ,, never visiting it again. it’s FUN to be overdramatic sometimes, FUN to pretend to care about things for drama and then grow bored of them, war is fun while politics isn’t - it explains so much about his character.

which brings us to the dethronement itself.

george and sapnap DOMINATE the situation right from the start. dream appears, fixing the path and generally seeming rather uneasy with the presence of so many people to be an audience (“this was meant to be a quick thing- no no no, we can have the conversation another time”). he says what he has to say, and tries to sugarcoat what he’s doing - he admits to it !! he admits to his own manipulation !! (“we can work together, me and you.” / “mmm, sounds like you’re sugarcoating it.” / “i mean, i am sugarcoating it a little, but it’s for the best.”). dream admits he’s being manipulative - and for a positive reason, not for an ‘evil’ reason. he is direct despite being uneasy about the whole situation, probably the most ‘sane’ and honest we hear him, and nobody listens.

except george, who listens and decides that it would be fun to twist the situation. not because he hates dream: i think he does care for dream, i think he cares for all his friends and loved ones, but i think he loves being entertained more. we see this in the way this situation - which could have been small and nonexistent, given no audience and therefore no opportunity for amusement - escalates, with george beginning to argue back and get upset.

sapnap, who is upset from dream’s spirit speech, starts getting upset for george, and george, who no doubt thinks this is amusing, lets him. quackity too jumps on this train, and it’s interesting, because i think this is one of the first times dream realises the power george has over people. he is instantly put on the defensive when people (george, sapnap and quackity) start arguing against him. here are just some interesting quotes i picked up:

dream: we’re not fighting...

george (i think) (about sapnap at dream): he’s disgusted, did you hear that? he’s absolutely disgusted.

dream: listen, the reason i’m even saying george should step down as king is because i care about him.

and then we get to another interesting interaction between dream, george and sapnap.

sapnap, about the dethronement: george, you don’t have to do any of those things

dream: sapnap- i, well, he DOES, first of all-

george: what?

and it’s this dialogue that makes me frustrated when people say that dream has complete control over the dream team, because he does not. neither of them listen to him, or are even inclined to listen to him - george’s what feels incredulous, not upset or surprised, it feels challenging. dream is the leader of the dream team, but george is the one with power over DREAM, not the other way round: and, being likeable, unlike dream, george has allies in and has power over almost everyone. he becomes best friends with quackity, the ONLY guy that actually had issues with him after he didn’t show up for the election !! i don’t think george is surprised that dream thinks he has control over him: i think he’s amused, because he knows it’s not true, and because he knows how badly this is going for dream.

dream, unlike george, gets incredibly uncomfortable with the attention, rambling (“no, no, no no no i worded that wrong, people don’t like ME and therefore they don’t like YOU because you’re behind me and you're my friend-”) and fidgeting and generally moving around. george, on the other hand, embraces the attention and pity he’s getting, sparks the fire for more, especially when his kingship is actually being removed. he plays on dream’s reputation of being the bad guy, plays on the resentment for dream that sapnap has, plays on quackity’s friendship with and loyalty towards him, all to create this situation that escalated into the breakup of the dream team.

and now we get to the infamous line: “just say it. say you hate me.” and it’s powerful, i’ll give him that (@ cc!george THANKS FOR THE SCRAPS OF ACTUAL ACTING SIR). but it’s dramatic. it’s probably over the top, too - you can hear it in his voice, it’s dramatic !! i’m not saying it’s ALL acting - to an extent, he probably is annoyed/upset dream would dethrone him, especially publicly - but i think this is, once again, deliberately provoking the situation. let’s look at what happens just before and just after this line, too:

dream, to sapnap: stop pointing the damn bow at me!

sapnap: i don’t know if i-

george, interrupting: just say it. say you hate me.

dream, laughing in disbelief: george, no, george, i care about you, that’s the reason i don’t want you to be king.

there’s a lot going on. but dream is adamant he cares - why would he admit this to people who are canonically against him and dislike him (quackity, sapnap, eret)?? why would he admit this after his big speech about not caring about anyone or anything if it wasn’t true?? dream doesn’t hate george - nobody even SUGGESTS that he hates him, characters only going so far as to say he didn’t care - and george knows that. 

[off topic, but here’s an interesting line that comes from dream who sounds incredibly uncomfortable: “i’m not GOD. i’m NOT god.”... compare that with his line “what does that make me, god?” from tommy’s most recent stream. i….. yeah, i don’t think i need to say anything.]

and now we get to another interaction i think people tend to look at through a very narrow lens. george walks away from dream with his head low and crouching (in minecraft mechanics, a position of vulnerability and also greeting/openness) as he goes. here are two interactions we have:

puffy: awww, george is sad!

dream: he’s NOT sad!

puffy: no, he looks sad!

dream: no, he’s not sad, he’s ACTING sad, he’s NOT sad, he’s not sad, alright, listen…

AND

dream: well, eret, it’s- (struggles for words) this is just [george] doing theatrics!

puffy: no, dream, he looks sad-

dream: he’s not-

someone (quackity?): he’s crying!

dream: he just looks sad on purpose.

both of these are on the way back to the castle, where dream is backed up and on the defensive over his actions. he doesn’t genuinely believe george is upset - some people read this as dream speaking for george and speaking over him, dictating what he does and doesn’t feel - but i’d argue differently. although we don’t have much of a stable character for george considering how little lore he’s directly been involved in, especially at this stage, it’s hard to know how he’d react to these things - but george isn’t a weak character. he’s been in wars, he’s actively ignored the possibility of his friends dying in the manberg-pogtopia war while building his house, why would this make him crumble and cry in front of everyone?? he makes no move to properly argue against dream here, focused more on his act and letting other people speak for him. and another thing i noticed was the people claiming dream is speaking for george right now make no complaint when quackity and sapnap do the exact same thing.

and here’s the thing. george LETS them. and that’s not because he’s too upset to know what to think: it’s clear he’s picking up the volatile emotions from the others, thinks he can get some sort of amusement or show out of this, and plays into what he thinks will be fun. and not necessarily in a bad/evil way, because i genuinely think he’s motivated out of nothing but fun. it explains cc!george’s attitude to lore, too, and it explains george being in ‘exciting’ bits of lore and not others - he sticks with what is fun, and, at that particular moment, dream and the dethronement are what’s fun.

and i think dream sees that - at least to some extent. i think he realises george doesn’t actually give a shit about this, and is just playing for fun. he gets frustrated, calling george a baby and promising to build him a castle “far away from here” and several times offers to try and make it up to him.

and of course we see none of this from dream’s perspective, or even george’s perspective, but quackity’s, who is a notoriously unreliable narrator, especially when it comes to people he doesn’t like. and here, he says:

quackity: chat, [george] basically got fired under the pretence of “we’re friends!”.

and it just goes to highlight his bias and where his loyalties lie, because that’s not what happened ,, like ,, almost at all. he has no sympathy for dream (and fair enough, after everything). he doesn’t realise that george doesn’t care as much as he’s making out to (and not to mention, dethronement is NEVER mentioned by george again - albeit because cc!george didn’t want to do lore, but taken in this context, it’s arguable that george just ,, doesn't care). 

this idea of george not caring only shows his friendships in a new light?? obviously, the irl reason he doesn’t hang out with dream on the server is because a) dream is In Prison and b) before that isn’t supposed to hang out with anyone for lore reasons, but looking PAST that, he flits from sapnap and dream to sapnap, karl and quackity. he goes to the people that interest him: one of these people benign dream xd, a literal god who bends to his every whim. doesn’t that seem like fun, having a god cater to your every whim? don’t you think it would remind george of another overpowerful, godlike person he used to hang about with? it’s interesting that george sort of flits from powerful person to powerful person, and each time, they cave to what he wants. it’s incredibly manipulative, but again, not in an evil or bad way, it just highlights how powerful he is despite not having any sort of scary reputation or strengths. he has a way of wrapping the most powerful people on the server round his finger and can manipulate emotions incredibly well and to his advantage. he cares more about fun, good or bad: it explains so many of his actions.

and, as dream says resignedly in the dethronement scene: “that’s just how george is, i guess.”

[asknarashikari]

Fruit Jesus, Shotaro, Emu and Shinnosuke react to the sort of chaos happening at the Igarashi's after taking a bath.

Genta already in a mess from his drink and nearly choked.

Ikki: I... it was Vice's fault.

Vice: Me? You mean you. I didn't influence you to say it. Probably it was your own heart and mind. Or was it how Joji said daddy and conversation started from there? 🤔

George: Oh Ikki... I can be your daddy anytime. 😉😏

Genta angrily walks up to George while Yukimi holds him back.

Genta: He doesn't need someone like you to be his dad. I'm his real father and I raised him.

Sakura leans in to Daiji: Remember when Kagerou influence you to say that to Hiromi.

Daiji: Don't remind me of that. And I also think father doesn't fully grasp this modern concept.

Kagerou: *Oujou-sama laughing*

Hiromi brainfarts: I wish Daiji wore something sexy when in bed.

Sakura and Daiji turns to Hiromi: 😐🤨 WTF?

Also Daiji: 🥰☺️🤫

Shoutaro is just done with everyone. He asks Sakura if she wanna get outta there to, idk, visit Fuuto with him or smth and leave these guys to it. Sakura is like PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE

Emu’s this 👌 close to going Hyper Muteki on George’s ass. And Kouta is all but ready to smite him. Shinnosuke is so very tempted to let them do it too.

(I mean, that’s not the only reason they want to kick his ass. It’s for what he did to Hiromi too. And the whole Kagerou fiasco which could’ve been avoidable.)

Also... Well now, Hiromi, do we have something to share with the class?

For real though Daiji would probs pull him aside for a looooong talk. I do think they’re the type to talk things out thoroughly before... proceeding further, so they probs do have some idea of the other’s likes and dislikes, it’s just that Hiromi never brought it up before so it surprises Daiji a little. And maybe Hiromi surprises himself too lol, he’s not as vanilla as he thought he was.

The other Riders stay out of their discussion, thankfully, because they’re two adults who can talk about their relationship and take responsibility for it. As long as it’s safe, sane, consensual and private they’re all good.

[blufox234isadumbname]

dream (XD, maybe?) visits fundy in his dreams. it's the only thing making them bearable, and keeping him sane

:)

Nobody [inspired by a mitski song]

Many make mistakes, Fundy was one of them. He just wanted to make sure Yoghurt was safe that night, what with more mobs emerging from the south. He just wanted to tuck his kid and make sure he slept better than him. With kiddish purrs becoming white noise, he should've stopped himself when he felt his lids flutter, when his bed dipped and he saw the house go black.

The fox-hybrid opened his eyes, already letting the horror sink in before opening the damn door. It was all over again, he thought he was getting better. No. He was a fool, still a foolish fox. Yoghurt was no longer by his side, and he already started to feel sweltering heat entering the home. Fundy's heart already ached, already sore. His breaths were heavy, weighted over him as he laid in the dreaded empty bed. Tears were beginning to form but he blinked and rubbed them harshly away. Just close your eyes, he thought. But he knew better, wishes could never be reality. He just wanted it to be over, so he had to do it himself. Fundy always had to do everything himself anyways, this was no different.

He got up and readjusted his black breton cap. Steady and stalwart, steps crept towards and stopped in front of the door. Twisting the knob, a final breath was heaved before the same scenery greeted the displeasured fox. He became familiar with the barren land, covered by only hot dry sand and tall cacti. The winds seemed to be strong that dream, dust clouds were choking the poor dreamer. He closed the door behind him, noticing his red tail hung low. First thing was first, he left the area of his house to find anything out of place. It was instinct to try and spot something that stuck out like a sore thumb, besides his little spruce wood cottage.

Fundy sank his naked feet into the sand, burning his padded paws. He trudged along in a random direction, which was wherever the barest clouds were drifting opposite from. That's all he did for a couple of minutes, maybe more than half an hour to him. Prime, he hated how the sun was bright, how the sunshine was a glaring spot above him. He hated to stare at the dull sky for any second longer. He hated winds dusting the sand into his eyes. All of it was n eyesore, metaphorically and litterally.

He just continued onward, awaiting any subtle and not-so-subtle ghostly remnants of his history coming back to haunt. To be reminded of why his life sucked, that was surely fun, right? He wanted a break, a detour from the disaster that was him. For not the first time, he wanted to be elsewhere. Not just in the dream but in reality. Yes, Las Nevadas was the haven he wanted it to be. But that came with the cost of having his dreadfully undead father closer to him. As if he wanted a chance to be mocked and haunted. Even more so, Tubbo and Ranboo causing a commotion with Quackity already had set him at unease. Threats towards a nation he called a home, a lovely return to the cycle. Like dirty water from the sea to acid rain in the clouds, it's become the same horrid cycle.

Speaking of clouds, the fox-hybrid looked up. The smallest gathering of clouds became a crowd of them all across a brighter baby blue canvas. The yucky yellow sand turned a grassier green. If he squinted, he could maybe see the blooms of other than cactus flowers. Finally, a reason for the feet under him to pick up their pace. Fundy kept running towards the green, faster and faster as he could taste them with his fingers. As soon as he was near enough, he dived right into the fresh field. A little mistake, per usual, as he began rolling down a knoll all of a sudden. Through the short wild grass into a taller field of lavender and peonies, the fox finally took a deep breath. A clean and relaxed breath-

"Hello, Fundy."

- before it hitched.

Fundy lifted his head up above the flowers to spot a cleared spot. In the patch of cornflowers and poppies, a naked area of just grass lay, with a figure. He knew it well, with the dirty blonde hair - though he never remembered it being at scruffy and shoulder length - and deadly smile-painted mask adorned. In a lime, white and black letterman jacket over a starkingly orange jumpsuit. He knew that man well, even by the soft humming. The blank eyes of the mask and the man behind to stared at the fox-hybrid. If it weren't a nightmare yet, Fundy figured it just started.

"How are you here?" The hoodied man asked

"Don't...don't even talk to me..." The overcoated fox snarled with teeth bared and tail puffed.

Dream huffed, toying with something in his hands.

"I just asked. The dreamscape is not normally so free reign. For you, you're the least I expected to be able to cross barriers of mind."

"What the fuck are you talking about. Why are you here? What, to haunt me? To mock me? To tell me I'm useless?"

"...To make flower crowns"

He held up said piece of rope strung with flower blooms. His was a cornflower and daisy crown.

"That...that's it?"

"Can you control your dreams?"

"That...it's none of your business, Dream."

"I'm assuming no. But you are willingly seeing me. So in that case, I suppose I can tell you. You know I was imprisoned, in that big ol' prison? Anyway, a being gave me a wish, or rather a gift. I could control my own dreams, I could lucid dream whenever I wanted to. So I could stay in prison while still feeling the grassy field. So I'm here."

"You don't...get nightmares? NOS Cary reminders of your past? Nothing scary?" *And while I do?*, Fundy doesn't add on. Dream pauses for a break. before he answers

"How could I? I control every aspect of my dream. Though you are certainly not part of it. I appreciate the company, kinda? But I'd rather not keep it. It's be nice if I just asked that dream being to remove you-"

"NO!"

"Excuse me?"

"P-Please...I-I don't wanna go back..."

He hated how his voice became frail at the drop of a hat, how his ears flattens and how shaky his hands became. Already begging to a tyrant, the same one who's destroyed everything in his life. What Fundy had begged was true, however, he didn't not want to go back to nightmares. This was the only time the dreams felt good. Albeit muddled by a lime menace, it was better than the frightening things ahead did him. The fox heard the man sigh.

"Sure, sure you can stay."

"Thank you..."

Fundy sat down in front of Dream, criss-cross legged. And the two were silent. The dreamer kept weaving in the flowers in the rope while the intruder simply watched. His clawed hands picked at the grass blades. Admittedly he enjoyed the scenery, if it weren't for the horror of a man in front of him. He noticed the excess rope tossed aside and something in Fundy urged him to use it too. He could tell eyes were on him again even from behind the unmoving mask.

"Yes, you can make flower crowns too. You know how to make one?"

"Y-yeah. Niki taught me how to make one with rope. I made hers with alliums. She gave me one made out to tulips" Fundy chuckled at the memory fondly.

Dream paid no mind just gave Fundy the extra rope and returned to his own project. After that, the quietness continued for much longer. But Fundy was never a fan of long silences.

"...Why a field? Out of flowers? I didn't know you were into this kind of stuff."

Dream paused for a minute, seemingly deliberating. He room a breath and spoke;

"It's just me wanting to relive old memories. Before settling in the SMP, me and George went to a flower field. We just spent half the say there doing jack all."

"It's always George is it?"

"... he's my friend. I'd do anything for him."

"Even terrorising a nation? Even threatening a kid? Even dethroning him?"

"..."

The silence spoke volumes. Fundy knew he overstepped, but it was hard for him to be sympathetic over it. He swore the surroundings looked dimmer for a second.

"I miss him. I'm no longer allowed visitors and even then, he never came by to visit."

"Who did?"

"Sapnap. Bad. Tommy, surely you know. Then Technoblade."

"Wait Techno visited you?"

"Less visit and more just made a new space in my jail cell. It's like a vacation to him. I'm not mad but...I like here better anyway."

"What's it like? In the jail cell."

"Tight. Closed. Hot. And I mean scorching. It's surrounded by lava. Barely much room to move around, not much there. I do have books to write in but so far I have started writing none."

"Someone hasn't been productive, I see?"

"I liked to write stuff. Just random things. But in a cramped space...I can't. I see why people are claustrophobic. It's feel like hell in there...for more than just the lava."

Fundy started to feel a twinge of a heat wave on his back as he stuck a flower into the rope. It died down shortly after.

"Since you're asking me questions. It should be fair I ask you."

"That's...yeah, that's fair."

"What were you doing, before you slept?"

"In bed. Just...alone in my cottage. Far away with no one else." Fundy lied, no matter the somewhat friendly tone, he wasn't ever going to risk Yoghurt.

"I thought you had Eret? Or Niki? I thought maybe you guys stay in at Least a neighbourhood."

"I...I haven't spoken to either in so long. I think they forgot about me. That's...fair"

"Hmm..."

Before I slept I was just building m stuff in Las Nevadas. It's...it's a thing Quackity built. I can't say more than that-"

A roar of something, not too loud but enough to be noticeable, came through. It spooked Fundy well enough.

"Dream what-"

"Let's...not talk about that."

"Well, what else is there to talk about me? I have nothing else. That...that palace is all I got going for me honestly."

"I thought you had more."

"No. After L'manburg, all of it gone, I don't have much else. By who, I wonder?I didn't care, that was fine by me until I did something different. I'm making sure I have a place, at least."

"Like a house?"

Fundy twisted the stalk gently, silently.

"Like a place of belonging. Where I can be remembered and people know where I am."

"I get that..."

"Of course you do, you tyrant. Your name is sure to be famous."

"Not the being remembered part. The belonging part."

The clouds seemed heavier at that moment.

"Find it hard to believe coming from the same guy that he cares for no one but a kid's discs."

"I know what I said, Fundy. But I don't care about the discs. I care about having control. Having everything in my hands. To take strings of the marionette and play them by my fingers. That's what I aim for, not just useless material discs."

"What does this have to do with belonging?"

The roar came back, a roar of thunder.

"The puppet master is not a puppet. He cannot be a puppet. When the puppets go free, he is left for dead..."

Dream's scarred hands clutch the half done green tulip crown. Down a drop goes from the petal. Then another, then another. Fundy looks up, to see the trickles. Down the drops of precipitation go to his face. Fundy's chest felt heavy, clebtched by something in a grip. He saw Dream looking up as well. From the angle he could partially see the bottom features under the mask. A pursed mouth with scars on his lips. Dottings of freckles across his cheeks. Streaks of not raindrops reaching down his chin. He heard the hiccups, the struggle to compose oneself. He knew that too well. Fundy found the part to care about as he stroked Dream's forearm carefully.

"I-I'm sorry, It's...I-I'm never like this. I'll just change-" the masked man's voice was breakable, cusp of falling apart.

"No. I like the rain."

Dream looked back to Fundy. It was true, the fox-hybrid liked rain. He used to play in the puddles as it drizzled even into adulthood, before more important things occupied his time. Like getting weapons for war or spying on a president. Fundy had on a solemn smile, a weak one in the likeable weather. His hair and fur became bristled whislt his tail wrapped unconsciously around him.

"I feel alone too. Everyone has left me

The people that I care about always hate me or leave. They leave me frightened in a place where everything so to survive. I'm barely staying alive as is. I don't have anyone."

"I don't have anyone either. I'm heartless, I pushed them away. Techno is with me, yeah. But what happens then? I'm too scared to find out. All I want is to just be free..."

Fundy laughed a bit. He tossed aside the half-effort flower crown and stood up. He opened his arms wide, further than his shoulders. He kept laughing, giggling, wheezing over. He raked a hand through ginger and snow white locks of his, knocking back his black breton cap.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, one, it's already crazy you're telling me all of this. This all feels like stuff you'd suppressed hard. Even in your dreams. And secondly...god, I wish we talked more sooner."

"What?"

"You and me, both alone in this world. We're unlovable. Reckless bastards we are. I'm not the worst like you but by Prime, I'm just as lonely as you. I can't excuse reving Wilbur and the 16th...but maybe we could've been friends."

He knew dream was smiling, not from the mask but from the small line of daylight peeking through the clouds.

"Fundy, I could never be friends with you. I'd push you away too."

"Then don't push me away now. I'm desperate, man."

"...I wouldn't."

Fundy smiled a glint of the sun right back at Dream. For once in a dream, he was at ease. The pouring rain slowed s little down to a drizzle, enough fro him to avoid smelling of dog water. The clouds journeyed away from the meadow, and let the sun's smile through. He loved the rays of sunshine gracing his face above him. He loved he could stare at the cloud-scattered sky for almost hours. He loved the winnow through the grass that made them dance. He loved it there.

"Sorry about the rain. In my dreams, I rarely can talk to anyone. And techno is not exactly the most relatable with what I have. Outside, I keep it in. But where I am, where we are, is inside me already."

"Fun to know this is the inner machinations of the terror Dream."

"Hehehah"

"...I probably won't remember this happend. When I wake I won't have a clear thought of events. Just so you'd know."

"It's fine. I knew you wouldn't anyway. That's why I let most of it out. That and because, I feel like I can trust you. I can't leave my cell but maybe someday I'll find you again. And maybe-"

A click from behind Dream's head could be heard. He moved his hand latched onto the mask and pulled it down. There he was, gentle scarred smile with even gentler eyes, covered by dirty blonde turning silver white to the tips. Irises coloured almost like emerald and aqua ender eyes looked back to the fox. Finally, his black tipped ears lifted and twitched, and his tail was wagging slightly.

"-we could be alone together again?"

Fundy's heart ached, sore already.

"I'd like to. For now, let's just depend on dreams."

"I can work with that."

Dream tossed his mask aside, uncaring and apathetic to the piece of porcelain disguise. He gently pushed Fundy by the tip of his finger, to which the former feign to be toppled. He fell in the middle of the tall peonies and lavenders and tulips. Dream joined a second after, right next to Fundy. Bliss, this is what he Fundy would call it. He felt less tensed, less mangled on fear. He had spent sleeping hours just shaken, because his fears conquered him alone. Taunting him because he was alone. Preyed on every part of him alone. But now he had a chance, to dwell int eh shrot grass, be crowned royalty in a field of flowers and feel less on his own. Fundy closed his eyes, as the smell of morning dew hit him.

And he woke up, lied curled up next to Yoghurt. And with a flower in his palm. A rose. He already wants to sleep, no matter the chance of being in the desert again. He wants to see the sunshine in the field of flowers more than anything.

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH7

one // two // three // four // five // six

Warnings | 2.6k // 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, unforgivable curses, cheating. 

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // one word. Endgame.

Fred began to notice small things, like how George would look at you when you entered a room, eyes filled with love and adoration or how you'd both be smiling like idiots after every conversation. He noticed more and more of all the small things you tried to hide. He picked at every lingering touch or held stare because he knew, he knew you loved each other, that much was now blindingly obvious.

Fred wouldn't even dare look at you, the feeling made him sick, even just a simple text was too much for him to handle. You tried to approach him multiple times, you and George were both ready to tell him about the relationship the two of you had - Ready to start a public life together, but any time you had him alone, he panicked and ran from the conversation he knew was coming. 

His late nights with Cherry became more and more frequent, ending up with each other most nights, whether it was his bed or hers, she'd always manage to tempt him to let her be at his own free will. He swore he wouldn't tell Cherry about the two of you - there had to be a good reason why you and George had to be sneaking around. He loved his brother, with his whole heart, knowing that it wouldn't be that he was hiding the relationship with you just to hurt or spite him. 

There was one day that sent him over the edge, hearing giggles from the balcony he stepped out of his office to see you two hardly two inches apart, feeling that same pit of sadness sink to his stomach again. He found himself calling a number he shouldn't like clockwork. A dirty, rotten habit he couldn’t shake, begging her to let him come over. 

It wasn't long before Cherry arrived at his office door, pulled in for a feverish kiss. He didn't even have the time to get his clothes off, his cock lulled free from open trousers, while Cherry's perfect mouth bobbed on him. He was gently coaxing her head down onto him. It didn't take much but before he knew it he was close, ready to shoot his load down her throat. He groaned, the information slipping out as his high washed over him. "She's fucking George."

"Who is, Freddie?" she was looking up at him through her lashes, begging to be fucked, and he wanted to give in so badly, but now he'd realised what he'd done. He'd gone and told her a secret that wasn't his to tell. "Y/N, Y/N is fucking George."

"Christ, I knew it! That little whore." She stood up, pushing back so that she sat on his desk, legs spread for him to get a good view of her clothed cunt, fingers coming down to rub at her clit. He grabbed her hand aggressively, pulling it away from her heat, pushing a response through gritted teeth. "Don't call her that."

"Don't tell me you've fallen in love with that slut? Pathetic" She was belittling him at this point, but he wouldn't stand for that, immediately standing up so that his hand was at her throat, shocking her with a stern and forceful grip. "DON'T CALL HER THAT!" 

She smiled, her hand covering Fred's to make it squeeze tighter around her throat. Suddenly he felt the anger wash away, as if by magic, he felt in a trance and he wanted to give in to the girl in front of him. "If you love her so much, we can ruin it Freddie."

He looked at her puzzled, her hand coming down to stroke at Fred's cock, the other hand pushing her underwear to the side and wrapping her legs around his hips, lining him up so that he could push into her. "What do you mean, doll?" 

"Don't you want to just ruin her relationship, she can be all yours Freddie you can have her if you just help me." Her hand was in his hair, smoothing it down soothingly as he fucked her gently, this wasn't their usual routine, but something in Fred was too focused on the words she was saying, as opposed to how good his fuck was. He contemplated it, having you all to himself, feeling compelled to say yes the minute he locked eyes with Cherry again 

"I love you, Fred, you just have to trust me, you do trust me, don't you?" She had leant forward, whispering in his ear as she pressed gentle kisses against the lobe, moaning through every word at how deep he was stretching her out, her hips rolling to meet his as she chased her high. "Yes, Doll, I do."

She came around him not long after, pulling his lips into a desperate kiss, as her hand still threaded through the tufts of hair at the back of his head. 

// 

The shop had been closed for over an hour when you walked in through the doors, only visiting as the delivery girl dropping off the night's food for the boys as they pulled the monthly all nighter to try and brainstorm some new products. You noticed George on his own as you slipped into the back room, an empty chair next to him. "Where's Freddie?" 

George immediately went to grab the carrier bag you placed on the table, pulling out the tupperware box, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he breathed in the smell of the Chinese food "You, my darling, are heaven sent. Fred's just in the toilet."

You pushed yourself up onto the table next to George, pulling up the pad of paper to have a read over his notes, grabbing a prawn cracker from the bag as soon as he opened it up, popping some of it into your mouth. His hand rested gently on your thigh, giving it a little squeeze of appreciation. 

"Anything catch your eye?" he smiled up at you, as you grabbed the pen, making a couple of adjustments to the page of notes before handing them back for him to read. His eyes scanned over the small changes, his grin widening. "What would I do without you, eh?" 

You checked your watch, you could do with getting to practice a little early today with the big match this weekend, sure that your coach would appreciate the enthusiasm. "I'll call you after practice, Georgie. If you're still here I'll swing by to lend a hand."

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, hand smoothing down the hair at the back of his head before you hopped down from the table. Making your way out of the back room, only bumping into Fred as you turn your head back to look at the door. He grabbed a hold of you instinctively, causing you to laugh, but a smile didn't follow from him, at least not one that reached his eyes. He felt sick. "Hope you enjoy the food, Freddie, I'll see you later." 

Chery sat in her own apartment, a cauldron bubbling away as she intricately mixed the potion in front of her. Cherry, as a student, was a very skilled potions maker, one of the best that Snape had seen, only a few years older than Fred. She pulled the hair from her bag, praying that the one found in her car was the one she needed. She added the single strand in, stirring until the potion was ready. Cherry was quick in loading it into a flask, tossing it into her bag before she was out of the apartment with a flash and a pop. 

She was down an alley, not far from the twin's shop, when she pulled the flask out, giving it a small swirl before flipping the cap open, sipping at the liquid that tasted faintly of Goblin piss, but she didn't care. 

The boys had moved to their own offices, George was filling out paperwork, ready for the next day of work, making sure that there was enough of everything that the shop needed to run before doing the order forms. Fred was in his office however, still brainstorming. Trying to think up new ideas. The doorknob turned, causing him to look up and see the girl he craved sneaking into his office. "Y/N what are you doing here?"

Cherry smiled, it had worked, she looked like you, she was you. Walking with a sway in her hips towards the gentle boy, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him in for a passionate kiss, he found himself kissing back. The thought of you and George melting away when her lips, that felt like your lips were on his once more. 

"Oh, Freddie, I've been so desperate for you since we kissed." Her lips moved to press kisses down his jaw, her hand reaching down to palm his cock that went hard under her touch. "Fuck me Fred. I want your big cock stretching me out."

"But Y/N what about Geor-" She shushed him, finger pressing to his lips, as she smirked mischievously. "Don't you want to, Fred? You could let him hear how good you fuck me."

Her words sent Fred over the edge, grabbing at her hips, pulling her down to straddle him as they desperately kissed, tongues dancing against each other as she removed as much clothing as she could. When she was completely naked, she reached down to let his cock free. What Fred didn’t know is that Cherry had placed him under the Imperius Curse long ago and in this moment, while she used the word she did, she had him under her full control. Sane Fred would have never given in this easy, fucked a girl so quickly that he knew wasn’t his, no matter how much he loved or craved her. Under the curse all of his protests were unheard, unspoken. He was just there physically for the ride. 

Fred died and went to heaven the minute he felt your walls stretching over him, taking him fully to the hilt as she sat down on him. When Cherry began to bounce, the moans that spilled from her lips were downright sinful, letting the full power of them echo as she amped up the volume, moans and hums all that Fred could focus on. 

George heard the faint moans reverberate through the shop as his door hung open. He rolled his eyes, trust Fred to call a girl to the shop like this. He thought nothing of it until the moans grew louder, moans that he recognised all too well. The moans of his princess. He found himself storming to the door, it lay open, seeing his Girl's ass bouncing and taking cock, hair dangling down her back. "Yes Freddie, just like that baby."

All rage boiled over inside of George. His heart shattering into a million pieces. That was his girl, the girl he loved, the girl he wanted to marry, fucking his brother without a care in the world, without even a consideration for his feelings. He was broken, enraged at the sight he couldn't shake from his head. He was storming home, pissed and hot with fury. 

He feels the vibration of the phone in his pocket, he sees your name and a picture of you he took flashing up on the screen, he answers. 

"You really are a fucking slut." He heard her gasp at the other end, choosing to ignore the bustle of people he could hear down the phone. 

"George, what the hell have I done?" You queried, mumbling a goodbye to someone the other end, It was Fred, no doubt, he thought. "Don't play dumb, Princess, I saw you and Fred just now."

"Me and Fre- Baby I just finished practice and I was calling to see if you could come and get me, like I said I would." You were confused at this point, pulling out your wand ready to apperate to his place. 

"You're unbelievable, I can't believe you would do this to me when I love you so much." You heard his voice crack, you knew it wasn't just some sick joke. The audible sound of heartbreak echoing down the phone. 

"Whatever this is Georgie, I'm coming home and we can talk about this, you have no idea how confused I am." He rolled his eyes at how easily you could lie to him, after all, you had been lying to the public for so long.

You turn up at his house, throwing your bag down before heading up the stairs to find him sitting on the bed. He wastes no time, having your body pinned against the wall in seconds. Your hair was in braids, not like how he saw you earlier, but he let the detail slide. "How long have you been sleeping with him?" 

"Fucking Hell, George I don’

t know what you're talking about honestly, I don't." you sighed, hanging your head as you saw a tear slip down his cheek. "I've been at practice all night, I even kissed you goodbye."

"Don't lie to me." he sighed, your hand going up to cup his cheek but he pulled away from your touch, the action causing a tightening in your chest. You couldn't lose him, not over something you didn't do.

"George, baby I promise, I love you. Forever, remember?" He shook his head, pushing away from the wall, seeing you there in front of him broke his heart, you stood so innocently, begging to be held and comforted. He loved you, with all his stupid heart could give you. He wanted to marry you, his princess. But he couldn't deny what he saw. Not when it sounded like you and looked like you. The facts were hard to deny, but he saw you broken, in front of him and maybe he just needed time, needed to confront Fred. But he couldn't rest easy if what he saw was true. 

"Get out." His voice was hardly above a whisper. He couldn't even choke out the words because he didn't want you to go, he wanted to hold you and kiss your tears away as the spilled down your cheeks. He was in love but feeling his heart shatter over and over as the image replayed in his head was too much to handle. You went to protest. 

"Get the FUCK OUT," he sighed, the last words coming out as a yell as he rubbed his eyes with his palm of his hand. "Please, I just need time."

You left. Unsure of where to go as you felt your heart break with every step towards your apartment. The lonely shell of a home. You had taken a detour past a small park, stepping into the area that would usually be filled with children’s laughter in the daytime, but in the dark night it was the perfect place to wallow as you pushed yourself forwards and backwards with your feet, feeling the tears fall and spill from your eyes. You wrote a hundred messages, tapping out the words before deleting them, you knew that nothing could console him. You and George had fought before but it was never anything as big or rash as this. 

<< George, just know I love you. x

<< I love you with my whole fucking heart. x

<< I'll love you forever, never forget that. x

>> Forever. xx

You knew that deep down, what you had wasn't lost, and that he wanted to be there with you, he just needed time. And you needed to talk to Fred.

/// TO BE CONTINUED ///

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[lightininglydia]

Dear George, Love (y/n)

Prompt: (y/n) writes George a letter while away hunting with Harry, Ron and Hermione

Warnings: kinda sad, some fluff and if you squint- hints at character deaths

WC: 800+

Pairings: George Weasley x Reader + slight reader x golden trio ( platonic ) + slight reader x Fred Weasley ( platonic )

Second imagine in my Love (Y/n ) series

_______________________________________________

Dear George,

I miss you so much- more than I should. I fear over the last few years I’ve become dependant on you and not having you here is harder than I imagined.

I’m not supposed to say anything but you’re not going to get this letter anyway- Ron’s gone.... he and Harry got into a fight and he took off.... I tried to run after him but he screamed at me before telling me to run back to Harry.

So I let him go and I know I shouldn’t have because the only reason I went with them was to keep Ron safe- another thing I’ve seemingly failed at on this trip but what else could I have done.... I worry everyday. He’s one of the most wanted Wizards in the world and I just hope he’s safe.

I sometimes worry that Ron’s forgotten that I was his friend before I was Harry’s friend- before I was your fiancé and that if it ever came down to it I would pick him over Harry- and it’s not that I don’t like Harry because I do- I love Harry but.... I love Ron more you know?

Anyways in the midst of all this chaos I’ve been thinking.... about a lot of things but one thing has kept me slightly sane and pushed me to keep going everyday- our wedding.

I’ve been thinking a lot about our wedding and started planning the little things and such- I’ve come to the conclusion I want a small one. I don’t want the big elaborate wedding bill and Fleur had I want something intimate and close with only people we REALLY know- I don’t want the ministry or our great aunts there- just us and those we hold close.

You, me, our parents, all 7 of your siblings- yes all 7.... we’ll invite Percy and he can come if he wants- and I say 7 because Fleur is practically your sister now .

We’ll invite Remus and Tonks and Harry and Hermione and Lee and Ang and Alicia and Neville and Luna and we’ll get married in your backyard in a tent with everyone we love and it will be perfect.

I’ve also decided that I’ll ask Ginny to be my maid of honour- although I am a little worried that she and Fred will be the most important people in our wedding besides us but what’s a Weasley wedding without a little bit of chaos?

I was also thinking we could spice things up- ride away for our honeymoon on a dragon- curtesy of Charlie of course but enough of that....

You visit me in my dreams a lot you know.... one memory of ours in specific fills my dreams quite often- the moment when I realized just how in love I was with you.

It was a sunny day right before finals, when we were just friends. You came and asked me if I wanted to study with you by the lake because Fred was distracting you- no surprise there.

We sat by the lake, books in hand and I remember looking over at you. You were far too consumed by your book to notice me staring but there was just something about the way you crinkled your nose when you were confused and the way your hair blew in the wind that made me realize my heart only raced the way it was when I was with you and I realized that whenever you looked at me my legs turned to jelly and it hit me- I loved you and if I thought about it and I mean really thought about it

You were the only person I wanted a future with

Oh Georgie I can see it all.... you and Fred with the joke shop, me a professor and us with a house like the burrow that we could fill with kids or pets or both and we’d be so happy

We’d be happy and married and all of this would be over and we could just live and be without worrying about any of this.

We’d even have an extra room for Fred because we all know the three of us have never been apart for more than a few weeks- well until now but I don’t want to make it habit.

Speaking of, I miss Fred a lot more than I thought I would.... as much as I love them- Harry and Hermione can’t make me laugh like Fred and believe me Georgie I could use a good laugh.

I don’t regret coming with them but god do I wish we had more time before I left.... it all happened so quick and I didn’t get to really say goodbye.

Harry and Hermione are great- really but they aren’t my home. You and Fred.... you’re my home.

Going from living with the two of you in a two bedroom flat above the shop to living in a tent with Harry and Hermione in the middle of nowhere has been- rough.

Soon this will all be over- it will not be without loss and pain but soon it will be over and we can be happy and we can be together.... I’ll find Ron and we’ll fight our way through this and come home to you.

We’ll come home and you and I will get married and we will start our life.

We’ll start our life together and it will be perfect.

I miss you George- more than I will ever be able to put into words and it kills me that I can’t tell you or even send this letter because if they find it I’ll be putting you at risk....

All I can do is pray to the stars every night that we finish this and I can come home to you

- Love (Y/n)

[wonderful-writes]

Oooh! For the Charlie Weasley prompt list, 5, 8, and 14, where the reader and charlie have lowkey had feelings for each other for a long time, but then he went to Romania, but finally the reader is about to go into their last year, and they're spending summer at the burrow when Charlie comes back and they talk about being together after the reader graduates

Next Year

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: You had always been close to the Weasley family, and the second-oldest, dragon-loving brother was no exception. He was a few years ahead of you, tall, funny, and ruggedly handsome — all that you could ever want in a boy. It was a shame he didn’t feel the same way. But could one summer together at the Burrow change all that?

Prompts:

5) There’s always next year.

8) I never forgot you.

14) Is that my jumper?

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!”

You turned to see Ginny Weasley calling to you from the entrance of the Burrow. At her side was a broom and a dustpan. Mrs. Weasley had probably asked her to sweep the front porch.

“Ginny!” you exclaimed, running over to her. You had apparated to the Burrow with nothing but a small suitcase, so it didn’t take long for you to reach her.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” the young red-headed girl gushed as she pulled you into a hug.

“Where is everybody?” you asked when she finally let go of you.

“Percy, Ron, and Harry are upstairs cleaning the bedrooms with Mum,” Ginny answered. “Hermione was helping me out here, but she went inside to grab paper towels for the windows.”

“And Fred and George?”

“They went out with Charlie. I’m not sure when they’ll be back.”

“Charlie’s here?” you asked in surprise. “I thought you said he wasn’t coming. In your letter.”

“Huh, I probably made a mistake,” she said. “I meant to write that Bill wasn’t coming home this summer, not Charlie.”

“Oh,” you said. Part of you was excited to see Charlie again, but another part of you dreaded it. You hadn’t seen him since the end of your fifth year at Hogwarts, an entire year ago. You had finished your fifth year when he finished his seventh, and he headed straight for Romania after that. He had left immediately after graduation, not even staying to spend one more summer with you.

It was not like he had any reason to spend another summer with you. You were only a family friend, after all. The Weasleys had loads of family friends, and you were no different. Charlie probably thought of you like he did Harry or Hermione. But you couldn’t help but wish that he thought of you as something more than that.

You were heartbroken when he left, but you didn’t let it show. You spent that summer with your family, who missed you dearly when you were away at school. You had a happy time, taking trips and enjoying the company of those you love, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Charlie was gone.

When fall came, you returned to Hogwarts to begin your sixth year. You had school to occupy you — and you were very busy with that, being your studious and ambitious self — but you never let go of the memory of Charlie Weasley. You often looked back at why you fell for him in the first place.

You had met in your first year and his third. As members of the same house, you saw each other frequently and became fast friends. Over the years, you became acquainted with the rest of the Weasley siblings and grew to consider them your second family. You spent parts of your school breaks at the Burrow, and your muggle parents became close friends with the Weasleys as well. It was hard not to fall for Charlie when you were constantly around him and his wonderful family.

Though he was two years older than you, he treated you like an equal, not like some bothersome younger sister. He was kind and respectful and had a love for animals. In your mind, he was perfect. But you never had the courage to tell him so. You were always too embarrassed about your crush and too scared that your feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. He never showed any signs that he fancied you, so why would you humiliate yourself by admitting that you fancied him?

“I’ll take that for you, dear,” someone said, breaking you from your thoughts. You looked up to see that Arthur Weasley had come out of the house and was reaching for your suitcase.

“Thanks, Mr. Weasley!” you said, handing over the suitcase. “I assume I’ll be staying in Bill’s room since he’s not here?”

“Sure are,” he replied. “He’s been so busy at Gringotts. They just shipped him out to Egypt not even a week ago.” Mr. Weasley smiled broadly, clearly proud of his son.

“Wow, Egypt?” you marvel. “Bill must be some curse-breaker.”

“He sure is,” said Molly Weasley, joining the throng conversing on the front steps. “Hello, Y/N. How are you, dear?”

You stepped into Mrs. Weasley’s outstretched arms and told her that you had never been better. School was swell, your friends were keeping you sane, and there was nothing getting you down. She seemed happy at your reply and led the way back into the house.

Inside, you greeted Ron, Hermione, Harry and Percy. Unlike Ginny, whom you haven’t seen since Christmas holiday, you saw the four the them at school everyday. Percy was a year younger than you, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione were itty bitty soon-to-be second years. You were happy that Ginny would be starting at Hogwarts in the fall. Your last year would be her first, but at least you could go to school with her for one year.

For the rest of the day, you helped the family tidy up the house and prepare supper. When evening rolled around, Charlie, Fred, and George returned from wherever it was they went to. Fred and George said hello to you first, before heading upstairs to work on a new prank idea. Charlie was the last to approach you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking up at him. He hadn’t changed a bit. Same messy red hair, same freckles dotting his face. He was as handsome as ever. You quickly looked away, feeling the heat creep up your neck. The last thing you wanted was to out yourself on having a crush on Charles Weasley, especially in front of Charlie himself and his family.

“Hey, Y/N!” called Ron. “Wanna play a game of chess before dinner?”

“Sure,” you answer gratefully. You wanted any excuse to distance yourself from Charlie. Being around him only intensified your feelings for him.

After a heated round of chess, which Ron, the strategic genius, obviously won, Mrs. Weasley announced that dinner was ready. Everyone took their seats at the table, you squeezing yourself in between George and Ginny. To your dismay, Charlie chose the chair directly across from you.

He flashed you a smile. You smiled back weakly before quickly looking down at your plate. Act normal, you told yourself. When you still went to school with Charlie, you had gotten the same nervous, fluttery feeling whenever you were around him. After he left to pursue his dream job in Romania, he wasn’t nearby to make your stomach do somersaults anymore. It had been a full year since you felt this dizzying feeling, and now it was all rushing back to you.

“You okay, Y/N?” asked Hermione, who was sitting next to Charlie.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

You looked around and quickly realized that everyone had already piled food on top of their plates, but yours was still empty. How long had you been sitting there?

“Right,” you said as you picked up a serving spoon, about to dish mashed potatoes onto your plate. “I was thinking about someone, and I guess I zoned out for a bit.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow at you. “Who were you thinking about?”

You froze. You replayed your words and realized that you had accidentally said you were thinking about someone instead of something.

“Did I say someone?” you asked with a laugh, attempting to pass off your error as a simple mistake. “I meant something.”

“Sure you did,” Ginny teased, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes at her. You acted as if it was all a joke, but you were dying of embarrassment on the inside. You hoped you weren’t being too obvious.

“Pass me the green beans, Y/LN,” Charlie said.

You felt your face burning as you handed over the green beans. Even though you didn’t touch him, extending your hand that close to his sent electricity through you.

“Thank you,” Charlie said cheekily.

You spared him a glance, flashing him a smile. You were trying to act as casual as possible, but it was difficult when your stomach churned every time you looked at him. There was no denying to yourself that you were crushing hard.

After dinner was done, you helped Mrs. Weasley wash up. When everything was cleaned and put away, you headed over to the living room, where Fred, George, and Charlie were playing cards around the coffee table. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were talking upstairs, Percy was in his room reading, and the Weasley parents had decided to retire for the night.

“Can I play?” you asked, taking a seat next to Fred.

“Sure,” he answered, not looking up from his deck. “Next game.”

“So, where did you guys go earlier today?” you questioned.

“We just went to town,” George replied nonchalantly. “Fred and I needed to get some stuff for our next prank, and Charlie offered to take us.”

You hummed in response. It made you feel warm inside to know that Charlie was so attentive with his siblings. Family was very important to you, and you were glad it was important to him as well. Just another reason for you to fall even harder for him. Godric, why did he have to be so perfect?

The boys continued to play. The game finally ended when both Fred and Charlie ran out of cards, leaving George the winner. You began picking up the cards and shuffling them, preparing to deal them to everyone.

Before you could complete your task, however, George interrupted. “Actually, Fred and I are going upstairs to work on our new idea.”

Giving them a wave goodbye, you watched as the two younger boys got up from the coffee table and headed upstairs.

“You and me?” Charlie asked, a mischievous smile on his face

“Sure,” you replied.

You handed him his cards, and the two of you began to play. You were both concentrated on the game, and the only noise that could be heard was the sound of cards slapping on the table.

“So, how have you been?” Charlie asked, trying to make conversation.

“I’ve been good,” you responded. “You?”

“Never been better. Working at the dragon sanctuary has been a dream come true.”

You were genuinely happy to hear that he loved his job and his new life. Although, you wished you could be a bigger part of it. Charlie wasn’t much of a writer, and he hardly sent letters to his family, let alone his friends. You had written to him once when he was away, and he had responded. That was the extent of your communication over the last year. You didn’t bother to send another letter, fearing coming off as clingy or obsessed. When he failed to write to you again, you knew you had made the right decision.

“Wanna tell me more about Romania?” you asked, setting your cards down.

“Sure!” he answered enthusiastically. “But can we sit on the couch? My bum is sore from sitting on the floor.”

The two of you moved to the sofa and sat about a foot away from each other. He told you all about his experiences working with dragons. He went into detail about the training process, the proper way to handle a baby dragon, and the different breeds he got to study. You smiled as he talked, enjoying the way his eyes lit up whenever he discussed something he was passionate about.

“So, what about you?” he asked finally. “What have you been up to?”

“Well, I just finished my sixth year, which you already knew,” you said. “I aced most of my exams, I was invited into the Slug Club, and I’m currently working towards becoming Head Girl.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Charlie said. “You must be proud of yourself.”

“I am proud. Exhausted, but proud. Sometimes I wonder how I got this far. I look back at all the hard work I put in and still can’t figure out how I managed to do all that.”

“You’re pretty incredible,” said Charlie. “If anyone could accomplish that much, it would be you.” He paused. “Well, maybe also Percy. He’s a know-it-all.”

You blushed at his compliment. “Thanks, Charlie.” When you first told him about your achievements, you were worried he would think you were bragging. But his kind words put your fears at ease, reassuring you that it was okay to be happy for yourself and to want to share your goals and successes with others.

“You know, we should keep in touch more when I go back to Romania,” he said.

“Agreed. We hardly exchanged two letters in the past year.”

Charlie smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I sort of didn’t write to anyone at all. I mean, unless they wrote to me first.”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him. “You were probably too busy taming dragons or something,” you teased.

“I never forgot you,” he said, as if he had to make sure you knew his lack of communication wasn’t personal.

You felt your breath hitch. You knew he was probably only saying because he felt guilty for not sending letters to someone who obviously wanted to, but you secretly wished he had meant something more by those words. Did he miss you when he was away? Or did he just feel bad for cutting off a family friend who was desperate for company? Could he sense how you felt about him?

“I know,” you said. “You don’t have to feel bad for not writing. I know it’s nothing against me.” You really hoped he didn’t pity you or think you were pathetic. Your Gryffindor confidence truly gave out on you when you were around him.

“I-it’s not that,” he stammered. “It’s just, well, um.”

“It’s just what?” you questioned. Since when did Charlie Weasley get so tongue-tied?

“I, uh, I want you to know that I never forgot about you,” he finally spitted out, red in the face. “You’re, you’re different to me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Was Charlie Weasley, the boy you’ve been swooning over for years, confessing his feelings for you?

“Different how?” you asked, wanting him to get to the point. You needed to know how he felt about you, but you were slightly afraid of the outcome. What if it was all a misunderstanding? What if you had been reading the situation wrong, and he didn’t actually have feelings for you?

“Well, you’re like a friend,” Charlie began slowly. He seemed to have regained his natural confidence and composure. “But more than that.”

You stared at him, unable to speak.

“You’re like family,” he went on, “but I don’t see you as my sister or anything like that. I see you more as someone I could fancy, or rather, someone I do fancy.”

You were dumbstruck. The boy you were head-over-heels for actually liked you back. He had said it himself. He fancied you. No one else, you.

“Could you please say something?” Charlie asked.

You looked down to see him fidgeting with his hands. Was he really that anxious? The calmest person you knew was nervous around you?

“I can’t believe you just said that,” you said, looking him in the eyes. Those gorgeous brown eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, turning red again. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, no, it’s not like that!” you hurriedly told him. “I like you, too.”

“You do?” he asked, breaking into a grin that could make you melt into the ground.

“Yes, I do. I’ve liked you for a long time, but I never had the courage to say anything. I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“Same here,” Charlie admitted. “I’ve liked you for a while, but it felt wrong of me to say so. You are my friend, after all. Plus, you’re two years younger than me.”

You nodded in agreement. You often questioned if it would be wrong to date someone who wasn’t your age. Would people think weirdly of you and Charlie if the two of you were in a relationship? Would either of you get in trouble?

You couldn’t help yourself from asking, “How long have you liked me for?” You were still flabbergasted and didn’t think you’d ever get over the news.

“Well, I’m not sure. Maybe since my sixth year? Although, it could’ve been before that. We were always such close friends that I didn’t notice when platonic feelings started to turn into something more.”

You nodded in understanding. “I get it. Although, I can’t say it was the same for me. My feelings for you weren’t gradual like that. I knew I liked you all at once. From the moment we first met, actually.”

“Oh, did you?” he teased. “Did you find me that charming?”

“Oh, shut it, you git,” you said while rolling your eyes at him. It felt nice to banter with him without the awkward tension from before. Knowing that he shared your feelings made it easier for you to talk to him.

“So, what now?” Charlie asked you. “Are we dating or...?”

“Well, you have to ask me out first, don’t you?” you said playfully, trying to hide your smile.

He let out a loud sigh. “If I must.”

“Go on,” you said with a smirk. You had missed his goofy side when you were apart from him.

“Y/N Y/LN, will you go out with me?” he asked dramatically.

You rolled your eyes again. “Yes, you doof. I will go out with you.”

He beamed. “Brilliant!”

You smiled back at him, reaching for his hands. You gripped his hands in yours and looked into his eyes. Those soft, brown eyes that never failed to make you weak in the knees.

“But what will your family think?” you questioned, finally breaking his gaze.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Will your family be okay with this?”

“I’ve, uh, already told my parents about you,” you said sheepishly. “They’ve known I liked you for a long time, so they won’t have a problem with us dating. It’s your family I’m worried about.”

Charlie nodded. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them? Not now, at least?”

“That would probably be best,” you agreed. “I don’t particularly want to deal with their judgement right now.”

Just then, the thudding of footsteps coming down the stairs could be heard.

“Charlie, Y/N, it’s bedtime!” Ron called from the landing. “Mum told me to tell you!”

“We’re coming, Ron!” Charlie shouted back. He turned to you. “So, I guess we’re keeping this a secret?”

“Guess so.”

That night, you couldn’t sleep as you laid in bed. You didn’t have to share Bill’s room with anybody, so you were utterly alone with your thoughts. Part of you was too excited to sleep. You couldn’t believe you were dating Charlie Weasley, the boy of your dreams. But part of you was also terrified of what the Weasleys would say once they found out. You already knew they liked you; you had been a friend of their children for a long time. And Charlie was their own son. But would a relationship be too much?

Aside from your worries about Charlie’s family, thoughts about how to make a relationship with him work also occupied your mind. He would be returning to the dragon reserve in Romania at the end of the summer, and you would be starting your last year at Hogwarts. Would you break up? Would you do long-distance? How would you make it work?

The next morning, everything proceeded as usual. You had breakfast with the Weasleys, along with Ron and Hermione, of course, and helped with the dishes afterward. You spent the rest of the day spending time with everyone, particularly Charlie. The two of you snuck off whenever you could, but it was difficult finding time to be alone with so many people at the Burrow.

The rest of the summer went accordingly. You spent your days playing games with the younger children, helping Mr. and Mrs. Weasley around the house, and enjoying quiet moments with Charlie. During your time alone, the two of you talked, made plans, and fell deeper in love with each other. You were infatuated with him, and he felt the same about you. Both of you dreaded the end of the summer, when you would eventually have to part ways.

You would miss the hot nights laying in the field, counting fireflies together. You would miss the sweet way you held each other’s hands underneath the dinner table. You would miss the rise and fall of his chest when he had fallen asleep on the banks of the nearby pond after a long afternoon of splashing around. You would miss the blush that crept up his cheeks when you caught him staring at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You would miss him, everything about him.

The last day of summer crept closer and closer. Before you knew it, it was your final night at the Burrow. You were set to leave with Percy, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny early the next morning. A part of you was excited to finally start your last year at Hogwarts, knowing that this would bring you another step closer to your adult life. Some days, there was nothing you wanted more than to be done with school and to start working in the wizarding world. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be a healer or an auror or some other profession, but you knew you wanted to make a difference and do good things for others. But another part of you was saddened. You didn’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of the Burrow. You didn’t want the carefree summer days to be nothing but a distant memory. And you didn’t want your blossoming relationship with Charlie to come to a close either.

It was past midnight, and you were the only one awake. Having had trouble falling asleep, you had gone down to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. After downing your drink, you had decided to perch on the sofa to contemplate your current situation. Physically, you were exhausted from a long day of frolicking in the fields and slinging rocks into the pond, the perfect end to the perfect summer. Mentally, you were restless as thoughts ran wild through your head. What would happen when you returned to school and Charlie went back to Romania? Your body was telling you to sleep, but your mind was keeping you up. You would be able to sleep on the train the next day, anyway.

“Y/N?” a voice sounded through the silence. “Why are you up?”

You broke free of your thoughts and glanced up to see Charlie staring back at you from the foot of the stairs.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged. “Went down for some water and decided to sit here.”

Charlie grinned before plopping down next to you. “Well, then, I’m glad I happened to wake up just now. We can have one more moment together before we both leave tomorrow.”

You smiled back at him. “I think one more moment with you is just what I need right now.”

“What’s on your mind, love?” he asked as he draped his arm around you.

You snuggled closer to his side. “Nothing much. I was just thinking about us. What’s going to happen after tomorrow?”

You peered into Charlie’s eyes and found that he looked utterly content, relaxed even. Was he not fazed by the idea of having to leave you?

“Well, you’re going back to school,” he began, “and I’m going back to the sanctuary.”

“But what about us?”

“We’ll do long-distance, I guess,” he answered with a shrug. “I don’t want to break up or anything.”

You smiled at that and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. You were glad he wasn’t too worried. It eased your nerves to see how well he was handling this. “I don’t want to break up either. But you better write me, you git.”

Charlie smirked. “Alright, I’ll write you.”

You punched him playfully. “You better.”

The two of you stayed on the couch for a while, just enjoying being close to each other. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat. Its rhythmic pounding soothed you, let you know that everything was going to be okay.

“Hey, is that my jumper?” Charlie finally spoke, gesturing to knitted red garment you wore.

You grinned sheepishly, looking down at the jumper that hung oversized on you. “I wanted to have a piece of you before we go our separate ways. I didn’t think you’d miss it too much. You have a bunch of them.”

“You can keep it, love,” he said with a grin. “It looks better on you anyway.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” you replied happily. You knew he wouldn’t have minded you taking his jumper, but it was nice to hear him say it himself. Something about the way he said it looked better on you made you cling onto him even tighter.

You and Charlie fell asleep on the couch that night, entangled in each other’s arms. In the morning, you were awakened by the sound of stomping footsteps and rowdy laughter as the other children got ready to leave. Soon enough, Molly Weasley was ushering you and Charlie to get ready as well. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see the two of you sleeping on the sofa together. Like everyone else in the house, she knew of your relationship without having to be told.

Charlie decided to accompany you and rest of the returning Hogwarts troupe to the train station. He didn’t want to miss seeing you off, wanting to say goodbye one last time. By the time you reached Platform 9 3/4, it was finally hitting you that you would be leaving him again. But this time, it hurt a little less because you knew you wouldn’t be leaving behind an unrequited love. You would be leaving your boyfriend, someone who did feel the same way and would never stop caring about you no matter the distance.

Your goodbye was bittersweet. You were thrilled to be parting ways as two people who were dating at long last, but you were dismayed to leave him at all.

“Did you pack my jumper?” Charlie asked as he pulled you into one last hug.

“Sure did,” you grinned at him. “I’m going to miss you, Charlie.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said, planting a kiss into your hair. “But there’s always next year.”

You finally pulled away and boarded the Hogwarts Express with the others. Sitting in between Ginny and Hermione, you waved out the window frantically as the train pulled out of the station. You continued to wave as the train continued to chug forward until the figures of Charlie, Molly, and Arthur Weasley became nothing but specks on the platform.

Tired from staying up late the night before, you allowed yourself to shut your eyes during the ride to school. As you were drifting off to sleep, the last words Charlie had said to you turned over and over again in your mind. But there’s always next year. He was right. Although you’d be apart for your last year at Hogwarts and his second year in Romania, you had your whole future ahead of you. You had the rest of your lives to be together, so it didn’t matter that you weren’t together now. You sank deeper and deeper into a peaceful slumber, letting the noise of the train inching along the tracks and the thoughts of your future with Charlie lull you to sleep.

[foreverlogical]

Donald Trump’s descent into madness continues.

The latest manifestation of this is a report in The New York Times that the president is weighing appointing the conspiracy theorist Sidney Powell, who for a time worked on his legal team, to be special counsel to investigate imaginary claims of voter fraud.

As if that were not enough, we also learned that former National Security Adviser Michael Flynn, who was pardoned by the president after pleading guilty to lying to the FBI, attended the Friday meeting. Earlier in the week, Flynn, a retired lieutenant general, floated the idea (which he had promoted before) that the president impose martial law and deploy the military to “rerun” the election in several closely contested states that voted against Trump. It appears that Flynn wants to turn them into literal battleground states.\

None of this should come as a surprise. Some of us said, even before he became president, that Donald Trump’s Rosetta Stone, the key to deciphering him, was his psychology—his disordered personality, his emotional and mental instability, and his sociopathic tendencies. It was the main reason, though hardly the only reason, I refused to vote for him in 2016 or in 2020, despite having worked in the three previous Republican administrations. Nothing that Trump has done over the past four years has caused me to rethink my assessment, and a great deal has happened to confirm it.

Given Trump’s psychological profile, it was inevitable that when he felt the walls of reality close in on him—in 2020, it was the pandemic, the cratering economy, and his election defeat—he would detach himself even further from reality. It was predictable that the president would assert even more bizarre conspiracy theories. That he would become more enraged and embittered, more desperate and despondent, more consumed by his grievances. That he would go against past supplicants, like Attorney General Bill Barr and Georgia Governor Brian Kemp, and become more aggressive toward his perceived enemies. That his wits would begin to turn, in the words of King Lear. That he would begin to lose his mind.

So he has. And, as a result, President Trump has become even more destabilizing and dangerous.

“I’ve been covering Donald Trump for a while,” Jonathan Swan of Axios tweeted. “I can’t recall hearing more intense concern from senior officials who are actually Trump people. The Sidney Powell/Michael Flynn ideas are finding an enthusiastic audience at the top.”

Even amid the chaos, it’s worth taking a step back to think about where we are: An American president, unwilling to concede his defeat by 7 million popular votes and 74 Electoral College votes, is still trying to steal the election. It has become his obsession.

In the process, Trump has in too many cases turned his party into an instrument of illiberalism and nihilism. Here are just a couple of data points to underscore that claim: 18 attorneys generals and more than half the Republicans in the House supported a seditious abuse of the judicial process.

And it’s not only, or even mainly, elected officials. The Republican Party’s base has often followed Trump into the twilight zone, with a sizable majority of them affirming that Joe Biden won the election based on fraud and many of them turning against medical science in the face of a surging pandemic.

COVID-19 is now killing Americans at the rate of about one per minute, but the president is “just done with COVID,” a source identified as one of Trump’s closest advisers told The Washington Post. “I think he put it on a timetable and he’s done with COVID ... It just exceeded the amount of time he gave it.”

This is where Trump’s crippling psychological condition—his complete inability to face unpleasant facts, his toxic narcissism, and his utter lack of empathy—became lethal. Trump’s negligence turned what would have been a difficult winter into a dark one. If any of his predecessors—Barack Obama, George W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George H. W. Bush, and Ronald Reagan, to go back just 40 years—had been president during this pandemic, tens of thousands of American lives would almost surely have been saved.

“My concern was, in the worst part of the battle, the general was missing in action,” said Maryland Governor Larry Hogan, one of the very few Republicans to speak truth in the Trump era.

In 30 days, Donald Trump will leave the presidency, with his efforts to mount a coup having failed. The encouraging news is that it never really had a chance of succeeding. Our institutions, especially the courts, will have passed a stress test, not the most difficult ever but difficult enough, and unlike any in our history. Some local officials exhibited profiles in courage, doing the right thing in the face of threats and pressure from their party. And a preponderance of the American public, having lived through the past four years, deserve credit for canceling this presidential freak show rather than renewing it. The “exhausted majority” wasn’t too exhausted to get out and vote, even in a pandemic.

But the Trump presidency will leave gaping wounds nearly everywhere, and ruination in some places. Truth as a concept has been battered from the highest office in the land on an almost hourly basis. The Republican Party has been radicalized, with countless Republican lawmakers and other prominent figures within the party having revealed themselves to be moral cowards, even, and in some ways especially, after Trump was defeated. During the Trump presidency, they were so afraid of getting crosswise with him and his supporters that they failed the Solzhenitsyn test: “The simple act of an ordinary brave man is not to participate in lies, not to support false actions! His rule: Let that come into the world, let it even reign supreme—only not through me.

”During the past four years, the right-wing ecosystem became more and more rabid. Many prominent evangelical supporters of the president are either obsequious, like Franklin Graham, or delusional, like Eric Metaxas, and they now peddle their delusions as being written by God. QAnon and the Proud Boys, Newsmax and One America News, Alex Jones and Tucker Carlson—all have been emboldened.

These worrisome trends began before Trump ran for office, and they won’t disappear after he leaves the presidency. Those who hope for a quick snapback will be disappointed. Still, having Trump out of office has to help. He’s going to find out that there’s no comparable bully pulpit. And the media, if they are wise, will cut off his oxygen, which is attention. They had no choice but to cover Trump’s provocations when he was president; when he’s an ex-president, that will change.

For the foreseeable future, journalists will rightly focus on the pandemic. But once that is contained and defeated, it will be time to go back to focusing more attention on things like the Paris Accords and the carbon tax; the earned-income tax credit and infrastructure; entitlement reform and monetary policy; charter schools and campus speech codes; legal immigration, asylum, assimilation, and social mobility. There is also an opportunity, with Trump a former president, for the Republican Party to once again become the home of sane conservatism. Whether that happens or not is an open question. But it’s something many of us are willing to work for, and that even progressives should hope for.Beyond that, and more fundamental than that, we have to remind ourselves that we are not powerless to shape the future; that much of what has been broken can be repaired; that though we are many, we can be one; and that fatalism and cynicism are unwarranted and corrosive.

There’s a lovely line in William Wordsworth’s poem “The Prelude”: “What we have loved, Others will love, and we will teach them how.

”There are still things worthy of our love. Honor, decency, courage, beauty, and truth. Tenderness, human empathy, and a sense of duty. A good society. And a commitment to human dignity. We need to teach others—in our individual relationships, in our classrooms and communities, in our book clubs and Bible studies, and in innumerable other settings—why those things are worthy of their attention, their loyalty, their love. One person doing it won’t make much of a difference; a lot of people doing it will create a culture.

Maybe we understand better than we did five years ago why these things are essential to our lives, and why when we neglect them or elect leaders who ridicule and subvert them, life becomes nasty, brutish, and generally unpleasant.

Just after noon on January 20, a new and necessary chapter will begin in the American story. Joe Biden will certainly play a role in shaping how that story turns out—but so will you and I. Ours is a good and estimable republic, if we can keep it.

PETER WEHNER is a contributing writer at The Atlantic and a senior fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center. He writes widely on political, cultural, religious, and national-security issues, and he is the author of The Death of Politics: How to Heal Our Frayed Republic After Trump.

[saigonharrington]

nervous // g.w

Hi babes!

I’m finally posting the George fic that I was talking about and I am so excited for you to read it!

please, reblog if you like it, it helps me grow

disclaimer: my knowledge of werewolves is based only on a little internet research and the tv series named teen wolf, the episode named Anchors inspired me to write this

pairing: george weasley x werewolf!fem!reader

word count: 6k

Y/N - your name; L/N - last name; Y/F/N - your friend’s name

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, (kind of) panicking

summary: y/n is afraid of who she became, thinking that now she’s unlikable, but her new abilities prove her wrong, making her hear the boy’s talking and... the beating of his heart

“Hey, he’s staring again.” Your friend noticed the boy, who was standing across the hall with his brother and their friends.

Who was she talking about? George Weasley, of course, the person whose heart you could hear from miles away.

You met him a while ago, wandering through the halls at night, trying to sort some things out while he and his brother were bringing their another prank to life. Of all people attending Hogwarts, you bumped into them. 

You never thought that someone, besides Prefects, would be seen in the corridors so you didn’t pay attention, focusing only on your thoughts.  No wonder you got quite overwhelmed when you hit your head with something, and it definitely wasn’t a wall.

“Are you okay?” The redheaded boy asked you, worried about your well-being. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t take my eyes off that Zonko’s new item. Are you sure you are fine? I can walk you to madam Pomfrey.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” You said, looking at the moon. “I’m heading to my dormitory, don’t want to bother you and your brother.” You nodded at him, so he told you his name.

“I’m Fred. The more handsome one. Also, the funnier one, because I’ve just made out an amazing plan. Care to join us? I swear you will not regret it. ” He encouraged you, and you didn’t want to be rude, finally agreeing to go with them. A couple of minutes more outside the dorm can’t hurt you, right?

The thing is, you spent almost the whole night preparing pranks with them and idly talking, joking about Snape and Filch. 

The problem is, you haven't talked with them since that accident. Sometimes you exchanged a few words in classes you had together but nothing more.

So then why did George have a crush on you?

You asked yourself that question many times since you first heard him confessing his feelings to Fred. Every time this boy got closer to you or touched you accidentally, his heart was beating so fast like a drum. Your heart has been just as fast as his, but he couldn’t know that. You didn’t even know if it was because you shared his feelings, or did just knowing what he feels towards you, made you that anxious. 

“I know. I’m still not able to control these new super senses. I saw him a while ago. Not to mention that his heart makes my ears hurt. ” You admitted, holding your head because all these sounds were giving you a headache.

“Well, maybe if you’d finally talk to him, your senses wouldn’t be a big problem. Perhaps if you can’t manage to control them, you should ask someone who might help you. Go to professor Lupin.”

“But he doesn’t know that I’m a werewolf. I’m still not comfortable when someone mentions that. ” You said, scared of what you’d become. You knew that sooner or later you were supposed to reach for help, but you felt insecure and didn’t want to recall that night when you were bitten.

“He’s coming over here.” Your friend interrupted your thought, reminding you of George. 

“No way, we have to run.” You started packing your bag, standing up from sitting on the bench. 

“Too late.” She added, making you turn around.

“Hello girls, how’s your day?” He asked nicely, staring at you constantly. 

“Bad.” You whispered.

“Getting better.” Your friend interrupted you, because she knew how much you wanted to walk away, and she couldn’t let you, knowing that you have to confront him anyway. 

“Great, I wanted to ask you a question.” He pointed at you, smiling widely. “Would you go on a date with me?” He scratched his back, getting stressed. You heard his heart pounding, which made you even angrier. The sound was so loud that you weren’t able to hear anything other than that, feeling like you could pass out at any moment. 

“She would love to.” Your friend took the lead, which made the boy wonder why you weren’t responding. “She’s just as stressed as you are. Sorry for speaking in her name, but she talked about you for so long. I hope you understand.”

“Oh, no worries. Meet me after the lessons on Friday. I’ll be waiting near to the great hall. ” He explained, addressing it to you, adding a short “see you later” after his brother called after him.

“You should thank me.” Your friend addressed you, asking you to sit down.

“Gosh, his heart was beating so fast. I couldn’t focus.” You told her, relaxing a bit. “And no, I will not thank you. Can’t you understand why I’m avoiding him? I thought I told you.”

“No, I can. I just think that you’re wrong. ” She told you, winking at you.

“Think about it. If he’ll find out who I am, he won’t talk to me again. I’d rather stare at him, being miles away and aware that he likes me too than admitting who I am and getting rejected, him not being able to look at me again.” You admitted, hearing your voice cracking slowly. 

“You idiot. You really think that werewolves are some type of creature that cannot function normally? You’re here for centuries, managing everything somehow, I bet that there were werewolves married to Muggles, to wizards, and many more. Don’t think of yourself as a beast, some kind of unlovable creature. That’s not what you are. You’re perfectly normal. By the way, bold of you to assume that he’s the first one to judge and won’t accept you.” She gave you a speech, trying to cheer you up.

“That’s exactly what I think. Can you blame me? I’m still not used to this, I never really talked with any other werewolves.”

“Then stop! See, you’re also prejudging him. There’s only one way to find out what he’s thinking about you. You’ll tell him the truth. But for now, we have to find Lupin.”

—

You were not ready yesterday, so after your friend spotted Lupin, you decided to hide. You wanted to be prepared for every topic that he will discuss with you, deciding that you’ll ask him to stay for a little talk when the DADA lesson finishes. 

“Can I speak with you for a moment, professor?” You asked, trying to sound quiet. 

“Yes, you may. What’s the problem, miss L/N?” 

“If you’re going to ask questions, then I might stay here for a little longer than ‘ a moment ’.” You joked, secretly being scared of admitting the truth.

“Anyway. As you may know, I am a werewolf. Before you ask, I prefer not to tell you how it happened. I’m still learning, and you’re the only one that came to mind. I thought that you might help me.”

“You should’ve come earlier. Weren’t you curious earlier about your abilities and how to control them?”

“I was. But I was also too afraid to say something. Werewolves aren’t considered as the nicest creatures, I wanted to avoid gossip. I still want to. ” You started a monologue, watching closely if Lupin is paying attention to you. “The main reason for me coming to have a little chat with you is not only to ask about my abilities. I’m invested in hearing. Because I cannot understand why some sounds are clearer and come to my mind often? What makes them so?”

“Do you have something specific in your mind?” He asked, being eager to help you.

“Someone’s heart beating. I mean, I hear a lot of sounds, but this one is haunting me, even if that person is completely in a different place. Am I losing my mind? Or did this happen to you as well?”

“This person is your anchor, then. The one who can calm you down, who can help you control all of your new skills. But it might change through the years, you don’t have one anchor for eternity. Everything is based on your feelings. ” Remus explained calmly.

“Who was your anchor? You don’t have to tell me if you’re not feeling comfortable with it, after all, I’m just another Hogwarts student. ” You asked out of curiosity, wishing that he will open up to you.

“It used to be someone who was my friend. I don’t think I have an anchor anymore. ” He answered, being rather peaceful and not bothered by it, however, you wanted to comfort him, asking for permission to hug him.

“You’ll find another anchor. You said that we can have it more than once, right? I bet that somewhere there is someone special, whose ability is to calm you down. ” You smiled shyly.

“Um, eh, we’re not here to be upset. Let’s focus on your issue.” He said, wanting to change the topic. “What you need to control your abilities is physical contact with that special someone. I can’t assure you that it will work after the first attempt, but it certainly might help.

 “But that takes time, I think I was able to control most parts of it after months. Still, some things are not under my control. Anyway, don’t worry about that, everything has its flaws. If you’ll excuse me, I have an important meeting soon, I don't want to be late. If you want, we can meet again after one of my lessons.” Lupin bid you goodbye, making you leave his classroom.

As you were left alone, you started thinking about the conversation that happened seconds ago. It did not make sense to you.

How could George be your anchor? 

Sure, you had a crush on him for a while, but nothing ever happened between you two. That one night, which you spent preparing pranks with twins was fun, nothing else. You decided to not make any more friends, because you remembered how Y/F/N reacted when you said that you’re a werewolf. So you drifted away not only for your own good, but also for his. 

Why him? Why isn’t it your friend, or even someone from your family who is  your anchor? And how are you going to explain it to him? “Hey, I’m a werewolf, and you’re the only one that keeps me sane? You have to stay with me forever, otherwise I might go crazy?” 

No way. You couldn’t  see it.

At the same time, George was calmly waiting for you next to the Defence Against the Dark Arts  classroom. He noticed that you stayed for a little talk with Remus, but he also was eager to talk to you. 

Your date was supposed to happen tomorrow, and he wanted to make sure that you’re comfortable with him, and that you have something to talk about. He was afraid that maybe somehow tomorrow you guys will be stressed, so chatting the day before, no strings attached and just getting to know each other might lighten the mood. 

“Hey.” He started the conversation without thinking about it. ‘Hey’? Couldn’t you think about anything better? Something more creative? Now she will think that you were stalking her, you dumbass, he thought, standing in front of you.

Never was he that close to you, or maybe just didn’t pay attention when you were around, but now he noticed the height difference between the both of you. He found it really hard not to kneel down, so he could see your eyes gleaming. Although he considered it cute and funny, he decided not to mock it. Well, not right now, since he had other reasons to talk to you and was so fixated about it.

“Hello George, what could have  brought you here?” You asked, not bothering to look at him, because you would have to keep your head up.

“We just had the same lesson.  I sit in front of you. ” He explained, thinking that you didn’t notice that detail. If the tall, ginger boy can be considered as a detail.

“Oh, I know. But the lesson ended 20 minutes ago. ” You said, wondering if he will say what he has in mind or will just play pretend.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Nothing deep, only to diffuse the tension before our meeting tomorrow. ” He scratched his head, walking slowly by your side.

“Meeting you say, and what’s that?” You teased him a little, finding it funny and adorable that he was afraid to use the word ‘date’.

“You know, when a group of people, two and above, meets somewhere. God, I was scared that I’m going to be the dumb one. Now I can relax. But I have to admit, I expected more from you. ” He joked, coping with his fear.

“Okay, so what’s the pre-meeting topic that made you come to me?”

“Actually…” He began, but you interfered.

“Shit. My friend is there.” You pointed at the end of the corridor, where she was talking with a Ravenclaw from your year. “We have to hide, I’ll explain.” You pushed him to the next door that appeared in front of you, finding yourself in Filch’s office. Great.

“Can you explain now? I thought that you like her. ” He asked out of curiosity.

“I do, but I don’t want her to interject in our conversation. Shh, I think someone’s coming. We should hide. ” You advised, being pretty sure that it’s Filch. Who else would  come to his office? You made George hide behind the huge bookshelf, noticing how little space there was.

“You know, we could also say a spell to make us invisible.” He laughed at you, trying to find a comfortable position.

“Too late. Shut your mouth. ” You both tried to stay silent, hearing the sound of someone opening the door. George was almost sitting, because if he would stand normally, his head could be seen above the bookshelf. 

His eyes were focused on you and your face in general, which made you hold your laughs way harder than you thought it would. If either  of you made a sound, you’d end up in detention, and Filch would make sure that you get the worst punishment. 

Fortunately, he only came to get one thing from his desk, so as soon as you heard the door shut, George suddenly moved, hitting his head on the shelf. 

“Shh.” You said, listening closely to the steps that were getting closer.

“Ah, Mr. Norris, I forgot about you! But you didn’t have to hit the door so hard. I hope you forgive me. ” He said to the cat that stayed in his office, but this time he took it with him.

While they were going out of the office, you had to silence the boy, who was struggling because of pain. It was not your intention to show your werewolf abilities, however, he looked as it really hurt him, wanting to scream. 

“Show me the back of your head.” You demanded, when the two of you went out of the hideaway. You slowly took his head with one hand, the other one intertwining with his fingers. He had no idea what you were doing. It was clever of you to take his hand, making it look like you were comforting him, while you took some of his pain away. Fortunately, you were wearing your long robes, so your veins were not visible. Otherwise, the boy would’ve seen how you were taking the sore, making the veins look blackish.

If it weren’t for your location and the cause of his headache, both of you would be on the way to the hospital wing. But how could you explain that George hit the bookshelf in Filch’s office? Well, you couldn’t. Good for you that the boy did not question your methods, he probably didn’t even notice the thing that you had done. 

“That was weird. But also hilarious.” George admitted, laughing way too loud, when you carefully opened the door to check what’s going on outside the office. After you made sure that no one was staring, you took his hand again, making him go after you.

While wandering through corridors, you noticed it is almost empty.

“Why is no one here?” You asked, not expecting the ginger boy to answer.

“You know, I think everyone is having classes. We’re going to be late.” 

“Oh no, we’re not going at all.” You replied quickly. “Not in the mood to get all the attention today, apparently the world is against me. We gotta be smarter, let’s play truant.” You tried to encourage George, but he already seemed to be in.

“That sounds great! Now I really do feel like we’re soulmates.”

“You doubted it? Wait, you never even mentioned that to me. ” You craved for an explanation, while George wasn’t so fond of telling you more.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a silly word. I intended to ask you something. Why didn’t you say anything when I asked for a date? Is it because you didn’t want to, or find me too intimidating?”

“Do you want the answer that will make you look bad, or do I have to take all the blame?”

“Depends which is the correct one.” He replied teasingly.

“I mean, I did think it was a little weird that you asked me, because after the pranks that night we talked only occasionally… how could I possibly be your soulmate? How could you grow to like me when you don’t know me at all? ” Yeah, you might regret that later, but you had to be honest.

“Merlin, I’m going to sound like a weirdo, but I do know you. At least I think so. You showed the real yourself that night, being careless and funny, besides in most of my classes I’m focusing on you, not the topic. I’m definitely sounding like a psycho, but you always sit in front of me or behind me, joking with your friend and I cannot help but hear more than a little and laugh quietly. I’ve liked you since that damn night and got to know you, in an unusual way, but still felt like we’re similar. That’s why I had to shoot my shot. Please don’t leave. ” He said, grabbing my hand, afraid of the vision that I might freak out.

“Can you shut up?” You replied in a harsh way, later realizing what you had done. “Shit, I didn’t mean… I just… you can speak. I’m just… Can you calm down? It sounds like your heart is going to run away from your body.” 

“Am I sweating or what?” He asked, curious how did you notice that his heart was fluttering.

“Oh no I actually… I can hear your heart beating. Very, very fast. And that you’re swallowing now the gulp of saliva, because you’re scared. I even hear professor Flitwick explaining the cheering charm to the 3rd years. And that Hagrid is coming, I think he’ll appear in this corridor in two minutes.”

“Your eyes have just changed from their natural  color. What is going on? Is something wrong? I am worried, I want to help you darling. ” He tried to comfort you, so you didn’t even notice the nickname. “Are you an Animagus? Metamorphmagus?”

“I’m a werewolf. I’m a werewolf, George. I’m so sorry, I know, I should’ve told you earlier. ” You admitted the truth, now being the one who’s afraid.

“No way! That’s so cool! I’m glad that I know! How many people know? Is this why you talked with Lupin? Can you show me your claws? And your transformation? ” The ginger got way too excited, so your job was to tone him down. 

“Shh, remember that we’re in corridors, when  we should be in classes. No one can know that we’re here. I’m so sorry for saying this, but I can’t show you. Not only is it irresponsible, but.. I can’t control anything since I was bitten. It might be because I’m that creature for the short term. I haven’t  learned to control it yet, no one was kind enough to show me. Oh wait, the only werewolf that I know and trust is Remus and I told him the news just today.”

“But you told me that you hear my heart beating...  It’s one of your abilities, right? ” He asked curiously.

“Yeah, it is. See, I either don’t know how to do things or they’re out of my control. I can smell like everything in this corridor right now, and trust me, when it’s mixed, it’s awful. I told you, I hear not only you, but even what’s happening in the charms classroom that is in front of us,” you took a deep breath, trying to gather your wits,

 “I also see the flying lessons from that window and I can recall every face of the students that are now attending that lesson. The problem is, that I don’t want to. This information is totally not needed by me, but I can’t control it.”

 “I can’t decide yet what I want to smell or hear… it’s really hard. That’s why I couldn’t answer you when you asked me on a date. I heard your heart, and it caused my headache, that’s why my friend took the lead and talked with you that day.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Now that I know what was happening, I can relax. Should I say sorry for the sound of my heart? I didn’t want to…”

“It’s okay.” You interjected, comforting him, while it’s you who needed the comfort. “It’s not that bad, since you consider us soulmates, me, remembering how your heart beat sounds, it’s quite romantic.” You smiled shyly, avoiding eye contact.

“Can I?” George started, but took a break, wishing that you know what he has in his mind. You didn’t, so you stared at him with interest. “Can I listen to your heart? I wish I could remember yours too.”

You nodded at him, but the boy was too awkward to start this. You took his hand, leading it slowly to your chest, getting out of your comfort zone. 

“You know, maybe you should rest your head on me. It won’t look as weird as you're almost touching my breasts. ” You started laughing, wondering if you’re  taking this too far.

“Alright then.” He got a little more confident, doing as you told him so. “And I was hoping that we were going to have sex.”

“And you’re my soulmate?? Man, I would never do it in public. In front of the charms' classroom? What if Flitwick or students… I can’t even say it. You’re something else, Weasley.” You patted him on his head, which was still resting on your arm.

“I was going to tell you something really important. But since you got too cocky, you’re gonna have to wait ‘til  our date. ” You started, feeling ready to explain to him about  the anchor. You didn’t change your mind, because you will tell him anyway. Since the two of you got way too comfortable around each other, you decided to tease him a little. 

“Oh please, don’t leave me hanging on. I can give you… something. ” He tried to convince you, taking some sweets from his pocket.

“No way, I know what you’re giving me. It’s Zonko’s hiccough sweet. Won’t happen. ” You replied, declining his offer. The bell ringing made you realize that the lesson has ended and the two of you should hide or at least make an excuse why didn’t you show up to your classes. Not only for the teachers, but for the friends' curiosity. What were you going to say? It seemed easier to just disappear than explain everything. 

“I’m sorry, but Fred is watching us and I think we have something to talk about.” George got up, waving to his brother. “See you tomorrow then? Please, don’t be late” He added, lending you a hand in case you wanted to stand up, but you kindly declined it, deciding to sit for a little longer.

“Where were you? I was freaking out until I noticed that George was also absent. Good for you that it’s the transfiguration you had missed, not potions. Snape would kill you, or make you clean his class. Now, tell me what happened. In detail, please. ” She begged you, making you sigh at that statement, knowing that you two will probably miss another lesson, talking about your new friend, or, more like, soulmate?

—

The date was about to begin in 30 minutes, you were sitting calmly in your dorm, listening to your friend’s rambling.

“What do you mean by saying that you have ‘a lot of time’? Is thirty minutes a lot? You aren’t ready at all! At least change your shirt.”

“Well, I wanted to dress up. Then I started thinking if I should wear something casual, since it’s just Friday night, and we’re staying in school, or should I wear something elegant, to make this date more serious. Next I had a little panic attack for the same reason. Finally, I decided that I’m not gonna dress up. Too much pressure.”

“So you’re going in the same clothes that you were wearing for the whole day?” She asked you, wishing you’ll decide to change.

“Yeah, I don’t want to make it official. We’ll see what is going to happen.”

“At least brush your teeth for Merlin’s sake! I bet this boy is ready for something more than listening to your heart. ” She joked, making you terrified.

“Damn, what if he really does? What If I won’t be able to control myself and change into a werewolf? That would be so humiliating.”

“No! I’m sorry, don’t panic. I think he’ll be excited to see you in that way. You mentioned that he was very cool about that. ” She tried to calm you.

“No, you don’t understand. I can’t control myself. What If I harm him? I don’t want to... If something like that happens, then for sure he won’t keep in touch with me. ” You said, pacing  around the dorm to not freak out.

“Oh trust me, this boy is weird. And he likes taking risks. I bet that he will laugh about it and get excited. ” She summed it up, wishing that it might cheer me up.

Because of her, you  finally decided to get up and change clothes. You still wanted to be comfortable, hoping that casual clothes would fit in that situation, whatever it may be that George has planned. 

After saying goodbye to your  friend, you found yourself in the corridors, walking slowly, focusing on breathing slowly. There’s no need to worry, right?

A couple of minutes later you noticed George, standing in front of the Great Hall, just as he said to you  earlier, leaning against the wall. He was looking down at the floor, bouncing his head, probably to the song that he couldn’t get rid of. You did not want to interrupt, enjoying the view from afar, but you knew you had no choice.

“Stressed?” You asked him, watching as his eyes slowly looked  upon you. “Not any longer. You came. ” He smirked, asking for permission to take my hand. “Why wouldn’t I? Yesterday was fun. ” You admitted, being curious where the two of you are heading to. 

Before you realized you were outside of  Hogwarts, George led you to the location where everything was prepared. You couldn’t help but wonder what he has in his mind. Is he worried that you may not like that? Is he excited to show you? Is it still a date or just a friendly meeting? 

Seconds later the view was starting to get familiar  the Black Lake was for sure mesmerizing, but what amazed you more was a huge, colorful blanket  with so much food on it. 

“Did you make it?” You asked, noticing that a flower crown was also laying on the blanket. “Which charm did you use?” The boy flushed at this question, feeling embarrassed.

“Oh, I didn’t use any charm. I got anxious after everything was prepared, so I had to get my hands busy. We were making flower crowns when Ginny was little, so I was worried that I might not do it properly, because it was long ago, but I’m actually proud of that one. ” George explained everything to you, starting to gain his confidence back, seeing that you liked what he had done. He helped you put it on your head, and then you sat down, looking at swans swimming in the lake.

“Do you think that we will eat everything? It looks like a feast for the whole school, or at least for one of the houses. ” The food in front of you was disappearing very, very slowly. Although George was eating all the time, the blanket was still full of all kinds of food. At first, you weren’t eager to try this food, knowing that George might have done something with it, but when he reached for the snacks, you followed his actions. 

Talking with him was really pleasant, you felt weirdly comfortable around him, but still the anchor thing was haunting you. Sometimes you couldn’t focus, thinking how are you going to explain it to him. It wasn’t that hard to make words come out of your mouth. What worried you was the commitment. Do you have to be his girlfriend immediately after that confession? Does that strengthen the bond between you two? Or will it mean nothing to him?

You could admit that you liked him. A lot. But those words sounded like you expected him to be more than your friend, and you did not want to rush things. Maybe you’ll consider telling it to him after the date? Depends on if it’s going to be good or end awkwardly? 

You decided to brush it off, asking out of nowhere.

“George, what’s like to prank people? Do you feel excited or embarrassed while making them?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never pranked someone.” He said seriously, but seeing your face made him realize that you weren’t joking as well.

 “No way. We have to prank someone together. Get up. Plans are changed.” He ordered, making sure that you do what he told you to, and then throwing the spell that made the blanket disappear.

“Did someone get under your skin lately?” Weasley said, probably having the plan already made in his head.

“Filch is yelling at me every day. Apparently Mr. Norris is not fond of my Kneazle.”

“And you’re letting him treat you like that? We gotta do something.” 

Going back to Hogwarts was quick and exciting. You never pranked anyone but you heard a lot of stories about the twins doing it, and having a chance to make it with one of them next to you, made you hope that it’s going to be fun. George decided that you’re gonna make a potion that will make Filch speak nonsense, it is Babbling Beverage. 

To do this, you had to sneak into the potions classroom, which wasn’t the easiest task, but definitely the interesting one. 

Joking with Weasley was really easy, this boy was a comedian. Spending time with him opened your eyes, that not everything has to be taken seriously in life. He could make fun of anything, yet you felt comfortable with him, because he knew when he should stop. 

Collecting all the things needed to brew this potion  created a silence between you two,  because you focused on the responsibility to make it perfect. Considering the fact that neither of you were good in potions, doing all of this was a challenge. But you knew it was worth it. For all the things Filch said to you, offending you every day, you waited for the sweet, sweet revenge. 

Finally, feeling ready, you broke the silence. 

“George, I have to say something. Please don’t make fun of me.”

 “No worries darling. I literally came to you and asked you out even though we didn’t talk much. If you didn’t make fun of me, then I won’t do it to you.” He admitted, taking the ladle out of your hands.

“How much do you know about werewolves?” You started slowly, not wanting to get to the point so quickly.

“Not much. Just that you and Remus are the ones. And that something happens when there’s a full moon. Do you want to say that I should learn more? Because I could do that for you. ” He replied, like it wasn’t a big thing, but it made you smile wide.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” You said, not wanting to put the pressure on him. “You know, there’s a thing called  an Anchor.” You started, taking a deep breath to think what you should say.

“And what’s that?” He asked out of curiosity, wishing that you could explain everything now, because he hated living with the unawareness. “You can trust me.” He added, taking your palm in his and rubbing it slowly with his thumb.

“I don’t know how to say this. I’m nervous. It... it’s a thing, or a person... actually, it is a person, who can calm the werewolf. They don’t have to be next to the creature, just the thought of them makes the werewolf control everything, making them able to not transform into the beast... you know. ” You started messing up the words, feeling incredibly stressed, and the fact that George was staring deep in your eyes, didn’t help you at all.

“Sorry to bother you, but we have to wait one hour for this ingredient to get warmer. We can sit in the storeroom then.”   He took off his jacket, putting it on the floor to make the place a bit more cozy.

You sat next to him, staying silent, knowing that when he interrupted you, it could mean that he’s not interested in the werewolf things. “What you said about the anchor... I think it’s pretty romantic. But why did you mention it to me?” 

“Don’t make me say it Weasley. I really don’t want to. I don’t even think I can. ” You tried to make it obvious that it’s him, but he clearly wanted you to admit it out loud.

“No way, is it Snape? That’s why we’re sitting here? Or is it Filch? And you want to show him the affection through the pranks? You're a weirdo, Y/N.” He laughed.

 “And you clearly don’t know what I have in mind.” You said, getting the confidence you gained lately.

“Do you mean you’re going to change tonight? Should I run? Or try to keep you calm? ” He was asking.

“If someone’s going to be that dumb, I might harm him. Just in case. ” You tried to tease him back, not wanting to say those words.

“Can I kiss you? These threats sound so hot when it comes out of your mouth. ” He asked, so you nodded quietly, watching as he was leaning closer. “Just don’t bite me, or do it. I would be the best werewolf, and the most handsome one. ” He whispered between the kisses.

“Your heart is so freaking loud. Maybe we should stop, we don’t want you to die or have a heart attack. ” You replied, showing that you care.

“We don’t? I didn’t know that. Also, I thought that you can’t hear it anymore. Since I am your anchor, and all you do right now is think of me...” he said confidently, admitting the things you were scared to say.

“Glad you finally understood. But it doesn’t work like that...” You were eager to explain everything once more, yet George had the courage to interrupt you again.

“Shh, we will have the time for talking. I’m now stuck with you forever, to be your Prince Charming and hero when you won’t be able to control yourself. But you are able now, and the night is long…”

“Don’t be so sure.” You interjected, moving closer and deciding to sit on him.

As George said, the night was long. The two of you forgot about the potion you were making, focusing on something else.

 The worst thing was how easy the two of you fell asleep.

 Snape seeing you that morning, sleeping, covered with your robes, was quite surprised. And furious. He yelled at you, making you wake up, not knowing where you are and what you were doing last night.

 It was obvious that he’s going to serve detention for you.

 But what could possibly go wrong, now that you have your anchor beside you?

tagging some people: @weasleysandwheezes @nerdyblogger06 @georgeweasley-whore @georgeweasleysbabe @asimpfortheweasleys

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[lastxviolet]

The Assistant - CH. 1

Description: Summary - Her sixth year at Hogwarts was supposed to be relatively peaceful but after an incident on the Hogwarts express, Violet Wilkes finds herself the newest target of the Weasley twins. This, combined with a dark family secret, and the Triwizard tournament, makes her first few months back more exciting and stressful than every year before.

pairing: George Weasley x Original Female Character

warnings: pg-13. slow burn, eventual smut hehe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218804/chapters/69148695

The Dark Mark.

Cloaked figures running, burning, torturing.

The threat of a second war.

Screaming.

A sharp train whistle brought Violet Wilkes back into her body on Platform 9 ¾, its sound tearing her mind away from the horrifying morning news in the Daily Prophet just last week. The moving pictures on the papers front page had barely left her thoughts, even now, as she was steps away from saying goodbye to her family for nearly a year, the dark mark burned behind her eyelids with every blink.

She walked ahead of her parents and little sister, weaving through the crowd of fawning mothers and sniffling siblings, towards the very last car in the line, dreading the long journey ahead more and more with every step.

For the past five years, she had seriously considered not returning to Hogwarts, solely because of the egregious train ride from London, and this year was no different, except for the pit in her stomach from the thought of noise, people, and confined space was joined by the fear of her family's hypothetical imminent doom at the hands of Death Eaters. Despite the fact that no one else shared her fears.

She'd told them all week that the events at the Quidditch World Cup weren't a fluke. No one conjured the most fearsome symbol in their world nearly thirteen years after its disappearance, by accident. It meant something.

A terrible something.

And now, she was leaving them. Defenseless.

Her father hadn't picked up his wand in nearly a decade, and her mother had no magical abilities to speak of. Her sister, Olivia, would surely be a powerful witch in the coming years but for now, she remained a timid ten-year-old. They hardly stood a chance without her. That was if the events last week were as dire and fearsome as she believed them to be.

Of all people, she thought her father would understand her worry but he insisted that it wasn't going to be like 'last time.' Even then, she'd made him swear that he would brush up on his spells and hexes just in case you-know-who had returned and picked up where he'd left off, targeting blood traitors and their families.

The train whistle cut through the commotion again and they sped up to make the 11:00 departure. She glanced down at her watch; 10:58.

If they hurried, she'd make it. But if they didn't, the train would mosey on without her. Not that she'd mind.

She looked around at her fellow hustling peers pouring into the train and exhaled sharply. What if she just stopped? Dropped to her knees and refused to move. Missed the train and begged her father to let her go to a muggle school as her mother had. Her fingers gripped the iron handrail in the vestibule of the final car, and she hesitated, ready to throw herself back onto the platform but deep down, she knew it was already too late. There was no avoiding the journey ahead.

Her sister launched into her arms, squeezing tight before her mother's arms replaced them around her neck. She kissed her father's cheek last, lingering on his kind, dark blue eyes, staring at their own mirrored pupils in her head. He pressed one more kiss onto her forehead before stepping back to wrap his arms around the other halves of her heart.

A blood-traitor.

How could anyone call him a blood traitor?

Easy, she thought. It was the same way her housemates called her a half-blood. With condescending smirks and dead eyes.

She turned to enter the car so they couldn't see the tear falling down her cheek and rushed to wipe it away before she came back into view through the last window.

Her sister called out a final time when the train began to slowly move away and a wave of dread constricted her lungs. The sound was too similar to the screams she heard in her nightmares nearly every night. Fog from her breath on the window obscured the final visible moments of her family's smiling faces and wildly waving arms as the platform disappeared from view.

11:00. As one torturous moment ended, another, 8-hour-long one, began. The ruckus of running feet, excited hello's, and sporadic spell work was instantaneous and completely impossible to ignore. She closed her eyes and tried to tune it out.

She couldn't conceive why a wizarding school would trust their unsupervised adolescent students to not blow each other up when muggle schools barely trusted their docile coeds to use the bathroom alone. Other people's happiness didn't normally give her such a headache but the lack of professor supervision provided no perimeters on her peer's ability to run amuck.

She felt her stomach flip with the swaying movement. Bile burned her throat, as the seat underneath her moved back and forth, rocking in a nauseating pattern. The noise, in combination with the repetitive piercing whistle and lurching wheels thudding through London, was dizzying.

Distraction. She needed a distraction.

Calloused leather brushed her hip, reminding her that she'd anticipated this very moment. She thanked her past self profusely and dug through the bag until the pebbly fabric of her favorite muggle book scratched her fingertips.

The deep blue hardcover still precariously clung to its title even after years of wear and tear, reading and rereading. She caressed the carved gold words with a shaky, anxious finger.

The Princess Bride

By William Goldman

It was a pity that the Hogwarts library didn't cater to muggle-born students, she thought. Even in Muggle Studies class, assigned readings were books about muggles, written by the magical beings that walked among them. Wizard writers were wonderful but their ability to write compelling fiction was limited when they can do the unthinkable with the mindless flick of a wand.

She flipped it open and paused to admire her mother's swirly signature on the dedication page before turning to the first chapter.

"I've been saying it so long to you, you just wouldn't listen. Every time you said 'Farm Boy do this' you thought I was answering 'As you wish' but that's only because you were hearing wrong. 'I love you' was what it was, but you never heard, and you never heard."

"I hear you now, and I promise you this: I will never love anyone else. Only Westley. Until I die."

Eventually, the disorienting blur of houses, trees, and cars ceased— replaced by much more appealing, rolling hills and sprawling fields. The speed of the train was barely discernible as the scenery outside the window moved in slow motion, barely changing, monotonous and still, a comfort to her dizzy head.

She glanced towards the glass doors that were protecting her from the chaos throughout the halls and determined that the motion sickness and general discomfort had been suppressed. She took a deep breath and weighed the options for the second half of the trip. Stay, and finish the beloved book that lay open in her lap, or leave, and trade all peace for conversation.

Alone, but also lonely.

She'd probably missed loads of drama on the first half of the ride, and Sadie would surely be furious with her for being absent.

Sadie Baldock had plopped down next to her at the Slytherin table one random morning during her second week at Hogwarts. Happy to have some company, she'd let the energetic girl talk her ear off for the entire meal, not once interrupting or telling her to shut up, even though it would've been warranted. They'd been best friends ever since and she'd been an absolute treasure for the entirety of their past five years.

Despite Sadies strong personality and pension for gossip, she understood and accepted that Violet had no desire to be attached at the hip to anyone and gladly gave her space.

Alone and lonely, was much better than being suffocated, she thought. This had been her preference, even before she arrived at Hogwarts, and was sorted into Slytherin, her supposed 'family' away from home.

She scoffed and shook her head.

Family, yeah right.

Other houses might consider themselves family. Hers, however, felt more like a cage.

Families weren't supposed to be judgmental, at least not to the degree that her peers were. Families didn't shun disgraced peers for impure bloodlines or enforce generational loyalty without question. In recent years, the house had shed any sense of camaraderie left, even between those with pure-blood and ancient ties.

Due to this, tensions ran high and tempers were like time-bombs. It was exhausting to bite her tongue enough to remain cordial with most of the somewhat sane peers in her house and fly under the radar of the rest. She clenched her jaw, remembering Draco Malfoy and crew taunting her half-blood status and muggle mother.

Exhausting, but necessary, for self-preservation and peaceful existence. She occasionally betrayed herself with a viper-quick temper that was always simmering in her chest but most took it for stereotypical Slytherin nastiness, and not a haunting disdain for those who shared her green and silver uniform. This, a knack for potions and a morbidly dark wardrobe were perhaps the only evidence of a correct sorting.

Oh well, she thought. It was a bit late in her career to be considering a house change, besides, the sorting hat was a sod old brute who insisted that he was never wrong.

In actuality though, it wasn't all terrible. At least she had Sadie and the few other perks that came with the snake emblem.

The dungeons provided cool darkness that deprived the senses of any reason for restlessness and anxiety. Although the green uniform occasionally invited disapproving glances, it complimented her dark blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair much better than the blue and white of Ravenclaw, or heaven forbid the bright red Gryffindor insignia. And, she was only a few feet away from the potions classroom, where she'd managed to instate herself as one of the only students their head of house, Professor Severus Snape, did not actively hate. The bond had been painstakingly cultivated over the years the only that way he would allow; speaking when spoken to, correct answers, and perfect potions.

She stared out the window, focusing on the rolling hills, trying to let go of the gnawing feeling in the back of her mind that couldn't help but wonder if the hat had gotten it wrong.

Introspection was one of her biggest flaws. Sadie was constantly telling her to get out of her head and she knew that she was right. But, analysis always felt necessary, even about moments and emotions long gone. Sorting through every feeling, decision, movement; double-checking every second to make sure they were all accounted for, was compulsory.

Even now, six years later, she wondered whether she even truly belonged in Slytherin, and whether or not being sorted into the other houses would've been easier or even different at all. Would it have been better to be sorted into her father's Hufflepuff house?

Maybe, but unfortunately, when considering where to place her, the sorting hat had ignored her father and zeroed in on the countless other Wilkes before him, all in Slytherin, before deciding that she would be forced to pick up the lineage again. Not that any of them would ever know, or care.

She felt a shiver down her spine.

It was for the best that they hadn't any idea of her existence, let alone the continuation of their legacy.

She squeezed her eyes closed and the beautiful scenery outside dissolved into the Dark Mark behind her lids and the memory of photos she'd secretly found amongst her father's old school things. Photos of a boy, a few years older than her father, clad in green standing next to his younger brother in yellow and black.

A legacy, broken. A legacy, reborn.

She felt her heartbeat quicken and tried desperately to conjure the image of her sister, next year, with the sorting hat on her head, yelling any other house's name.

Screams from the next train car over tore her away from her thoughts. She jumped slightly and shook her head, glad for a distraction from the oncoming downward spiral. She'd forgotten where she was for a moment but another chorus of "no's" and laughter bursting through the door at the front of the cabin pulled her back to reality.

Pushing the doors apart slightly, she poked her head into the hall and moved to step out but voices stopped her. Loud, obnoxious, exuberant voices yelled something about "research" to an amused audience.

The Weasley twins.

Maybe the imminent doom she'd been worrying about wouldn't come at the hands of Death Eaters at all, but two idiotic and insufferable redheads instead.

She searched for an escape, eyes moving frantically, but her only option seemed to be a jump from the back door and onto the tracks below. Why hadn't she left to find Sadie when she'd had the chance?

Rolling her eyes as far back into her head as they would go, she sunk back down onto the bench and held her breath, hoping to miraculously turn invisible before the twins could sour her mood further.

"C'mon George, one last try," a voice belonging to Fred Weasley yelled over the last wave of students laughing and telling the twins to get lost.

She groaned, knowing that they were indeed coming for her. She couldn't think of a single time during her years at Hogwarts when she'd enjoyed the terroristic Weasley antics, but this moment was particularly ill-timed. Their talents for pranking were legendary and despite being in the same year, she'd never been a target or victim. But, it seemed as though her time had come.

She screwed her eyes shut, trying to find a single positive about the cursed situation. The nerves twisted her stomach into a knot while she listened to nearing footsteps. Maybe, if she played along and let them get it out of their system, they would leave quicker, and get back to ignoring her.

Another couple of torturous seconds crawled by before the twin who she thought might be George yanked open the cabin door.

She forced herself to breathe and tilted her head to meet them with a perturbed expression glued to her face; brows furrowed, lips pursed, and arms crossed. Every Slytherin instinct whispered in her ear to hex them back to London but the exhaustion from her emotional goodbye a few hours ago overwhelmed any anger left, resigning her to accept this fate without much of a fight.

"Well hello, Violet. Today is your lucky day."

She was right, the one coming in first was George Weasley. She recognized the two moles on the left side of his neck from Herbology last year when she'd fantasized about slashing his jugular when he wouldn't shut up.

He moved her feet from the bench opposite her, and she stared at him, noting that his slightly crooked nose also distinguished him from the brother coming in second. Once seated, they stared at her with intense brown eyes, and eager slack-jaw smiles —incredibly sharp features exaggerated by flowing radioactive red hair, waiting for an answer.

"Is that so?" she growled, conjuring a deadpan stare.

The twins straightened their chests and leaned forward simultaneously. "Yes, indeed," Fred said, the excitement in his face and voice completely unaffected by her cold response. "And we'll tell you why. George?"

"For a limited time only, you have the incredible opportunity to join us on an intellectual exploration," George explained. She shot him a disapproving glance before shifting back to Fred who was nodding fervently at his brother's side. "Groundbreaking research," he added, sensing her apprehension.

"I've never exactly thought of you two as intellectual," she sneered.

"Been thinking about us though?" George teased.

She cursed herself for the blush that formed instantly and shifted her gaze back to Fred who was still waiting anxiously to explain the situation.

"All you need to do is eat this delicious toffee," Fred said, producing a brown lump from his robe.

He shoved it towards her and unsuccessfully tried to hide the mischievous glint in his eye with a sweet smile.

She glared at him, remaining silent, unsure of what to say next. What were they trying to pull? And why did they think that she was going to fall for it this easily? Did they think she was stupid?

She narrowed her eyes and tried to ignore her bruised dignity. "You're joking," she drawled, earning fake looks of concern from both of the twins. "What makes you think I'm going to fall for that?"

Fred's long red hair covered his face slightly as he shook his head. "See this is where everyone keeps misunderstanding us, George."

George leaned across the small space between them. "Indeed Fred —Violet darling, clearly our offer is much too transparent to be a prank," he said, now a little too close for comfort. "This is product research for our business so please try and take it seriously."

She scowled at the pet name and leaned away. Why was he being so familiar with her?

Gryffindors. Always too friendly to be trusted. At least her fellow Slytherins never tried to hide their agenda, no matter how much their bluntness stung.

It was difficult to gauge how to best get rid of them. Their puppy dog eyes didn't seem to be affected by rudeness, if anything, it seemed to egg them on further. She decided to try another route instead, hoping to catch them off guard.

"Fine. In the spirit of transparency, say that I do eat it," she said. "What will happen to me?"

Their coy confidence turned to surprise. "It's only ever been tested on a Muggle so we have no clue," George confessed matter-o-factly. "Hence it being such a great research opportunity."

"You'd be a pioneer," Fred finished, a stupid confident grin returning to his face. "Maybe even a legend."

Violet looked down at Fred's outstretched arm and plucked the brown ball from his hand. She stared at it skeptically and brought it up to her nose. It smelled just like normal toffee, but no way it was that simple.

The twins exchanged a nervous glance and she could tell that they were holding their breath.

They most likely doubted her ability to take a joke and were probably nervous about the outcome of their prank, if she did indeed fall for it.

She couldn't blame them, of course. Last year, Blaise Zabini, one of Malfoy's toadies, joked about her mother being a muggle during the Halloween feast, and nearly the whole school had witnessed her merciless rebuttal. She stifled a smile, remembering the look on his face when she'd stuck her wand in his mouth and said "Langlock." His friends had scrambled and scratched to open his mouth again and Madam Pomfrey had about reached her wits end trying to figure out how to separate his tongue from the roof of his mouth. She wondered if they'd been there for that, but the sudden hesitation in George's smile told her they were well aware of her short fuse.

Lucky for them though, she didn't have enough energy to fly off the handle today.

She slipped her wand out of her bag and touched the tip to the toffee, muttering a revealing charm. "Specialis Revelio."

The twins lunged forward to snatch their sweet back, but she was quicker.

"An engorgement charm?"

"That's cheating," Fred protested.

"What is this?"

They stared at her with a mixture of defeat and annoyance.

"It's a ton-tongue-toffee," George said grimly. "The newest product from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

She remembered him talking about his plans for a joke shop constantly in Herbology, while his gaggle of admiring Gryffindors hung onto every word but she never thought he could be serious about such a stupid career endeavor.

She frowned. "That's idiotic."

"That's the whole point," Fred snapped. "It would've been funny if you hadn't taken the easy way out."

"What would have been funny?" she countered, relishing in their sudden mood shift from smug to perturbed. "Me casting a counter-charm as soon as I felt my tongue swelling? I thought you two were supposed to be good at pranks."

She tried to hide her delight at the ability to get under their skin. Their presence was unwelcome but not as completely intolerable as she had expected, even as their cheerful nature and goofy grins faded, they were almost bearable.

Suddenly, she saw something dark shift over George's gaze. "Well then eat it, if you're so sure."

Violet's eyes widened, unprepared for the confident challenge. Irritation moved swiftly through her chest. She tried to hide her nerves and glanced down at the ball in her hand. It would be easier to tell them to leave, or even get up and walk away but she couldn't let a Weasley best her.

If living inside of her head was her first flaw, then pride was her second.

Her eyes bore holes into George's, and regardless of what happened next, his look of shock was prize enough as she popped the lump into her mouth. The toffee was a little warm and soft but not inedible, she wondered if their mother had made it.

Her mouth was fuzzy before she even swallowed, and as she had suspected, her tongue began to swell profusely. She poked the tip of her wand to her tongue as it flopped out of her mouth, nearly reaching twice its size.

"Reducio."

The twin's mouths dropped open in shock before they exchanged a curious glance. Even though the counter-charm came out with a slight lisp, as quick as it had happened, her mouth closed around her normal-sized tongue, the caramel-like taste of toffee on her lips all that remained of the prank.

She broke her staring contest with George and glanced back to Fred, but neither looked like they were going to say anything.

Arrogance replaced her irritation and she just couldn't hold back.

"Had you not thought of that?" She asked with a smug smile. "I hope none of your other products are so easily reversible. Who would want to buy something so temporary? Faulty merchandise is hardly a way to run a business."

They both stared at her in displeasure, but George looked more enraged than anything, not that she cared about hurting his feelings. This was turning out to be quite fun, she thought.

"Well, you've been a lovely assistant," Fred said, trying to quell the tension and clearly over the situation. "C'mon Georgie, finding someone less capable than Wilkes will be a snap."

George didn't budge. He just stared back at her, his brow furrowed, like he couldn't remember her name anymore. The thoughtful expression was freaking her out. She waited for him to return to the annoying ginger twat who had entered her cabin without permission but his expression didn't change.

His eyes searched hers for something but she couldn't tell what. She chanted 'fuck off' in her head, hoping that he could see the sentiment reflected in her eyes.

How odd, looking at them now, they weren't identical at all. While Fred seemed to operate as their crazy motor, George was something else…steering wheel maybe? Regardless, she was glad their exchange was coming to an end.

"What would you suggest then?" George inquired with a sneer, standing up to follow his brother out the door. "Since you're so smart."

As if she'd help them.

George loomed over her, blocking her view of anything else. She stared up at him defiantly, not letting his size intimidate her. The question lingered in the thick air between them, ringing in her ears over and over. Surprisingly, she did indeed have an answer to his inquiry, not that she was going to say anything. They didn't deserve her help, even if she could mask it as superiority. She waited for him to leave but he seemed just as content sitting in their tension as she was.

He smirked and that threw her over the edge.

Besting him in his expertise would be a satisfying final nail in the coffin and he'd asked for it. She didn't mind him this way, begging her to intellectually best him.

"Potions," she blurted.

She watched his eyes widen. "What?"

"Potions," she repeated wearily. "If you had used Swelling Solution, it wouldn't have been detectable by a revealing charm and no one would take the time to brew its antidote. Victims would be stuck with a fat tongue until the effects wore off, which, apparently, is funny."

It had meant to sound smug but it came out too much like she was tutoring him in earnest. He looked just as surprised at her tone as she was and stood up a little straighter, before reaching for the door. She glanced down at her hands, aware of his eyes still on her, and cursed the sincerity in her voice, hoping he wouldn't take it seriously or respond.

Thankfully, the door clicked shut and his footsteps disappeared down the hall, without another word. She sighed in relief and stuffed the book back into her bag to finally go find Sadie.

Violet shook the strange interaction with the Weasleys from her head and pushed through, packed train car, after packed train car before reaching the self-anointed 'Slytherin Only' door. Out of all the options on the train, her house had managed to claim the worst one. The tables and benches were much more uncomfortable than the stuffy cabins and the openness of the room made every ride a free-for-all.

The window fogged from her breath for a moment but through the sea of green, black, and silver, she could just make out the short, dark-haired girl she'd been looking for.

She wove through the room, focusing on Sadie's scowling face, at the back table. She followed the witch's death glare to a gaggle of girls surrounding Draco Malfoy across the room, holding up some Quidditch pamphlet that was somehow making them squeal. She pushed through a group of large boys lurking around a few older sixth years and successfully made it the length of the train without anyone trying to speak with her, or leer something hurtful, which was prone to happen.

"I was beginning to wonder if you even got on," Sadie said.

"Please, hold your applause," she responded, thankful to hear her friend's voice after months apart.

Sadie smirked knowingly. "Did you yak?"

Violet sat on the bench across from her. "Nope. Almost threw myself out of the window near Manchester though, when the Weasley twins raided my compartment."

She thought about recounting the entirety of the strange interaction but decided against it, as Sadie already seemed perturbed enough.

"Merlin, those spazzy gits never take a day off. We haven't even started the school year yet," she murmured. "Please tell me you unleashed your wrath on them."

Before she could answer, a chorus of ooh's and ahh's erupted from the show going on at the front table.

"Oi get a room or shut the hell up," Sadie yelled, earning her more than a few dirty looks around the room and an especially sour sneer from Malfoy himself.

"Shove off, Baldock," Malfoy sneered.

Normally, Violet would've laughed but she didn't particularly feel like drawing attention to herself today so she turned to avoid his gaze.

"I swear, those girls should be over that albino twat by now," she scowled, staring daggers into Malfoy's back.

"Not everyone has your refined taste Sades."

Her friend fell silent, gazing towards the blond boy dreamily. "Vi, do you think I could kill him? Snap him like a twig or something?"

She laughed and turned slightly, ensuring that Malfoy's ominous gaze was off of them. "Surely he deserves a more painful death than that."

She shifted in her seat to rest the side of her face against the window and smiled at Sadie's hearty, murderous cackle. The cool glass quelled any queasiness left as she watched the sunset over Scotland, signaling that the ride was almost over. Despite her surroundings and previous disposition, it was quite beautiful.

As she has suspected, Sadie recounted the first couple hours of the ride with impeccable detail. Pansy Parkinson had gotten an unfortunate haircut, Theodore Knott had gotten hotter over the summer, and Malfoy wouldn't shut up about the Quidditch World Cup.

Her mind snapped to the dark mark once again. Of course, the Malfoy's had been in attendance.

"He was there?" she whispered across the table.

"Of course he was. As if his family would miss an opportunity to show off to the whole world," Sadie said rolling her eyes.

"What did he say about it?"

"Just the usual. Father this, ministers box that. Gloating twat."

"Did he say anything about the ending…about the Dark Mark?"

Violet's ears rang.

A forgotten picture she'd stumbled upon in her father's abandoned school photo album flashed in her mind once more. Lucious Malfoy swinging his arm around her uncle, clad in Slytherin robes, a year before the war started. Their smiling faces were unburdened from what was yet to come.

The same Lucious Malfoy who was charged with being a Death Eater, but ultimately exonerated.

Sadie shrugged. "Just that he saw Potter running scared like a little girl," she said plainly before launching into the details of her summer. It was the same every year; she fought with her sisters and mother all summer long, and then cried like a baby while saying goodbye to them on the platform.

Violet attempted to tune her out and glanced at the cruel blonde.

This was the closest she'd been to him in nearly two years. Ever since Lucious had recognized her father on the platform, she'd taken every precaution to dodge him in every meal, class, or school event, in order to avoid the things that he knew about her.

The image of both Malfoy's smiles twitching smugly as Lucious recanted the Wilkes family history to his monstrous son on the train platform flashed in her mind. Her father had ushered the family away, uncaring of the secrets that would follow her to school and unwilling to speak about it.

She knew he knew, and even though he had every opportunity to tell the whole school, he didn't. Or rather, hadn't yet, like she knew he would someday. She could tell that he was waiting for the most opportune time by the way he said half-blood, and blood traitor instead of her name and the way his eyes were always just a little too confident when regarding her. The anticipation and fear seemed to be torture enough, for him. Surely though, it was only a matter of time.

His presence suddenly became too much. The thought of sharing a room with someone so amused by the ridicule of anyone who wasn't of pure-blood made the taste of bile claw up her throat.

"Sades," she interrupted her friend who was still animatedly speaking. "Wanna head back to mine and change?"

The dark-haired witch nodded and chattered on.

She led them both back down the train, breathing freely again among less threatening red, blue, and yellow students. She was relieved to have Sadie rambling at her side, yelling at first years in their way, and shoving leering seventh-year boys back into the cabins.

They finally reached the last car, and suddenly, she felt her breath hitch in her throat. A tall redhead was leaning against the wall outside of her cabin. He was staring down at his shoes and muttering something. She couldn't tell which one it was from this angle but had a hunch.

Two times in one day? She must be cursed.

Her stomach tangled itself once more with nerves. Maybe he'd come back to enact some cruel revenge on her, for thwarting his prank. She gripped Sadies hand a little tighter, thankful to have her as a backup if things went south. The sound of her footsteps made him finally lookup. She wasn't expecting the expressionless look on his face, and suddenly she doubted that he wanted to harm her at all.

Sadie saw him not a second later and pushed past her, letting go of her hand and yelling, "Bothering her once wasn't enough, you back for more Weasley?"

George's calm face suddenly contorted into panic as Sadie shoved past him and into the cabin. Violet didn't move, and stared at him from a few paces away, unsure of what he was doing if not pranking her.

She hadn't noticed his height earlier when they were sitting, but now that she stood in front of him, it was a shock to be eye level with his chest. Concealing her nervousness to the best of her ability, she met his eyes.

"What?" She said deadpan, hoping to convey his unwelcomeness as much as Sadie had.

He furrowed his brow and looked down at the ground for a moment, failing to hide a flustered blush.

"Sorry…erm — I thought I forgot something —talk to you later," he mumbled through a forced smile. The sudden change in demeanor was surprising. His attempt at confidence was oddly manufactured and she saw, for the first time, a glimmer of shyness.

Git. He probably needed his brother for backup.

Before she could say anything, he brushed past her and sped down the hall and out the door.

"What the bloody hell was that," Sadie said, scrunching her nose in annoyance. "Freaks, the lot of them."

Violet's stomach detangled itself and she turned to watch the floppy long hair retreat from view. She nodded in agreement but kept her mouth closed.

[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 13

"Oh Im gonna take a small break and go easy on this chapter :D" - me the other day. i then proceeded to write the longest chapter so far for no god damn reason.

ALSO YAY COOL SYMBOLISM IN THIS ONE

Thank you @i-have-this-now​ for helping me with transitions because im a complete mess Thank you to @rivys​ for beta reading and editing!

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~~~

“They WHAT?!” Wilbur yelled, wheeling around to stare at the teenager behind him. 

“They uh, they’re going to try and bring our Tommy and Dream back?” Tubbo repeated, taking a step back. “Is that bad…?” Hadn’t this been what Wilbur wanted? For their own Tommy to come home? Why was he acting so aggressive about it? 

“Yes that's bad! Thats really fucking bad! Not Tommy obviously, but Dream?! Tubbo, Dream could come and break the peace treaty. He might start a whole new war, just out of spite. I cant… We can’t do that again. We just don’t have the resources.”

Tubbo paled as he realized what Wilbur was saying. Yes, they might have a chance to bring Tommy home, but at what cost? They would have to go back to living in fear, terrified that at any moment, Dream would come up behind them and try to kill one of them. He took another step back, shaking his head. He couldn’t go back to living like that. He just couldn’t. 

Wilbur walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, crouching slightly so that he was at eye level. “Tubbo, I need you to tell me something, and I need you to tell me the truth. Where are they going?” Tubbo shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. On one hand, he had promised Tommy that he was going to help him get home. He had given his word. But on the other, he couldn’t go back to living in constant fear. He just couldn’t. “The eastern dark woods…” he muttered, trying to push away the guilt that gnawed at him. He had to do this. For his friends. He had no choice. 

“Got it.” Wilbur stood to full height, his eyes set and determined. “Go get your things together. We’ve got quite the trip ahead of us.”

~~~

“You can’t be serious. This is all you have? Why are there- why the hell do you have so many buckets? How on earth are you going to carry them?” George shook his head as he looked over the meager pile of supplies that Dream had gathered. 

Dream just shrugged as he rolled up the bedroll he had found in one of the chests. “You never know what might happen. I’m just trying to be prepared.” 

“Right. So you decided the best way to be prepared was to pack 3 buckets, but not pack any food or actual fresh water. You don’t even have a flint and steel!” 

A snort of laughter sounded from behind them. Dream turned to see Tommy, snickering to himself quietly. When the teenager noticed that they were looking at him, he wiped the grin off his face and stood up straight, trying to look serious. It didn’t work. 

“You know, you could be actually helping instead of just standing there and laughing,” Dream remarked. 

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? It’s much more entertaining to sit back and watch you struggle.” 

“Oh really? I would love to see you do a better job.” He clipped the bedroll to the base of his pack. 

Tommy stepped forward with a smug grin. “Ok, I will, since I’m just so cool and awesome. First off, you need coal for torches and shit. Second, toss the buckets out. You’re not going to be pulling any epic mlg moves here. That's just not how physics work.” Dream grumbled to himself as he took the buckets out of the pile. 

“Shut up, both of you!” George cried out, bringing the bickering to a halt. “Clearly neither of you have any idea what's going on or what to do. So instead of arguing, why don’t you just listen to me and do what I tell you to do. We’re on a timer, aren’t we?” 

Dream and Tommy looked down guilty. They had forgotten about the 48 hour limit, and had ended up falling back into their carefree habits. “Right, sorry.” Tommy said. 

“Alright, Dream, I want you to go and gather some water. Once you’ve got a bucket full, I want you to boil it and bottle it. We can’t have you getting sick from dirty water. Tommy, go and gather some wheat. We don’t need too much, just enough to make enough bread for if we can’t find any animals. I’m going to go and get the horses saddled.” George’s voice was calm as he explained what each of them was going to do. The other two nodded and quickly rushed out of the room. 

~~~

“Alright I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve never rode a horse before. I’ve got no fucking idea what I’m doing,” Tommy admited as he tried to find his balance atop the large animal. The three of them had gathered up all of their materials rather quickly, and were now on their way towards the forest. “Seriously, how the fuck do people do this?”

“By shutting up and not complaining.” Dream seemed to have figured out how to ride his horse pretty quickly, and was now spending his time taunting the younger teenager. 

“Yeah, well maybe if you weren’t so damn annoying, I would have less to complain about.” 

"C'mon, Tommy, hurry up. The sun's setting." George said, while Tommy almost fell off his horse.

The three of them rode across the rough wilderness, as the moon rose slowly along the horizon. This was going to be a long night.

~~~

“We can stop here to make camp for the night,” George said as they came across a small clearing. The three of them had been traveling for hours now, and found themselves in the middle of a birch forest. 

"Eugh, birch. This is literally the worst kind of wood." Dream said jokingly. 

"Agreed." Tommy nodded.

"What? Oh come on, birch isn't that bad." George relatiated as he set up a fire.

"What?" Dream laughed. "George, have you seen these trees?"

"Dream, they're just trees. Plus, we aren't gonna be here for long. We'll keep travelling as soon as the sun rises." George rolled his eyes.

“Ughhhh, really?! But that’s so early!” 

“Tommy, shut up. Stop acting like a child. You’re just lucky that we found a place to stop at all.” George handed both Dream and Tommy a couple of torches. “Here, set these up along the perimeter. The last thing we need is a bunch of mobs trying to kill us while we sleep.” 

Both Dream and Tommy stared at him in shock. 

“What? Do you guys not have mobs in your world?” 

“Wha- No of course we don’t! I didn’t think that they were actually real here, holy shit…” Dream exclaimed. 

“Damn… A world where you don’t have to worry about getting eaten alive in the middle of the night. That honestly sounds really nice.” he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. “Never mind that right now. I need you guys to set up the torches.”

~~~

The sound of a netherite blade slicing through the air echoed across the quiet forest. It had been several hours since they had set up camp, and Dream had long since given up on sleep. The events of the day had played over and over in his mind, making it impossible to close his eyes. And so, he had quietly gotten up and snuck away to a small open area where he could practice.

Over the past week, he had found that practicing sword fighting helped him to calm down. The simple, repetitive motions helped to quiet the intrusive thoughts that continued to plague him. He had started to grow quite reliant on it to stay sane. Maybe, when he finally got home, he would join a fencing class. 

If he got home. No. No he couldn’t think like that. Pessimism wouldn’t get him anyone. He needed to trust Tubbo and Wilbur. They were going to get him and Tommy home. They had to. 

“You know, you’ve really gotten a lot better,” said a voice from behind him. A squeal of surprise was torn from Dream’s throat as he spun around, his sword at the ready. “Pffft, what on earth was that?” George stepped out from the shadows of the trees into the light of the torches that Dream had set up. 

Dream placed a hand on his chest, trying to calm his racing heart. “Jesus man, you scared me. What the hell was that about?” 

The shorter man chuckled as he stepped further into the light. “Gotta keep you on your toes. What's the point of learning how to fight if you’re not constantly aware?” He drew his own sword and held it out in the form of a challenge. 

“You are actually the worst,” he said, raising his own sword in response. 

With a grin, George rushed forward in attack. Dream raised his sword to block the incoming strike, allowing his instincts to take over. He had learned that if he simply didn’t think about what he was doing, he often did quite well. And so he let his mind go blank, instead focusing on surroundings. The stars, the leaves, the trees, even the man before him was all taken in as they sparred. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” George asked, most likely hoping to distract his opponent. 

Dream only shrugged as he feigned an attack at his friend's leg, only to come up and create a small cut on his cheek. “Couldn’t sleep. I was hoping that doing some practice would help calm me down.” 

“And? How's your success rate?” 

“Well it was pretty good, until you arrived and scared me half to death.”

“Aww, I didn’t realize compliments scared you so much.” 

“Yes, I’m quite shy.” Dream couldn’t help but grin. 

As the two of them joked back and forth, they continued their little duel. It had been going for a couple minutes now, and they seemed to be at a bit of a stand still. A rush of pride surged through him. In roughly a week, he had gone from completely and totally useless to actually able to defend himself. Now, he just needed to set himself apart. 

His mind began working overtime, analysing every small detail. Quickly, he reached back with his free hand and pulled out a loaded crossbow. George’s face transformed into surprise when he saw the weapon. The bolt flew past his face, only just barely grazing the side of his head.

Dream quickly threw the weapon aside and pressed his advantage. Suddenly, the favor was tipped towards Dream. George was unbalanced, startled by the use of the crossbow. Still, he managed to raise his sword just in time to block another strike. 

With his free hand, Dream reached into one of the pouches around his waist and pulled out a small sphere, roughly the size of a marble. With a slight squeeze, the sphere expanded to the size of a baseball. While George was distracted with blocking the strike towards his face, Dream tossed the sphere behind him. With a crash, the sphere shattered against the ground.

Suddenly, Dream appeared behind George in a shower of purple. With a sweep of his foot, his friend came falling to the ground. With a final motion, he held the sword above his throat, his green eyes bright with exhilaration and delight. 

“Alright alright, you win. I surrender,” George said with a laugh. 

“Did you see that?! That was so cool! Oh my god that was so awesome!” Dream exclaimed as he helped George to his feet. “That was so damn cool!!” he started jumping around the small clearing in excitement. 

“How did you even do that? I’ve never seen someone use a crossbow in the middle of a sword fight before” 

“I’ll be honest, I’ve got no idea. I have no idea what the hell I just did. I just know that it was cool as fuck!” 

He shook his head, chuckling as he watched his friend dance around the area. George had never seen Dream show any sort of emotion before, much this level of excitement. Even though he knew the reasons why, he couldn’t help but feel a bit weirded out by it. Watching the pure joy flash across Dream’s face was strange. Still, it was nice. “You are such a dork” 

He only responded with a wide grin. 

A thought flashed through George’s mind, causing him to frown slightly. Dream stopped his playful jumping and walked over, his eyes now filled with concern. “Hey, you alright?” He asked. “Oh shit, you’re bleeding! Hold on I’ve got a few bandages on me I think…” 

As Dream pulled out a couple white bandages from his bag, George let out a slight chuckle. “Do you even know how to use those?” 

“Uhhh, not really? I’m sure I can figure it out. How hard can it be?” 

He wasn’t impressed. With a roll of his eyes, George held out his hand for the bandages “Here, just let me do it. It doesn’t really hurt, I think it's just a small cut. Probably just needs to be cleaned.” Taking a bottle of water from his bag, he quickly wet the bandage and started to clean the blood from his face. 

Dream pouted. “Well what if I wanted to help?” 

“Then you can go and wash the blood out of these,” George said, tossing him the now stained bandages. “No point in wasting perfectly good bandages because of a small cut.”

He caught them easily, but otherwise didn’t move. “Nope. Not until you tell me whats wrong.

The brunette cursed under his breath. Since when had he been so easy to read? “I uh, I was just thinking about… Stuff,” he waived his hand vaguely. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Dream plopped down onto the grass and patted the ground next to him. “Here, take a seat.”

He sat. 

“Spill.”

“I’m just… Worried, I guess? I mean, in a few days, you’re going to be gone and… the other Dream will be back. I guess I’m just scared about what he's gonna do.”

The smile faded from Dream’s face as he considered what to say. “What was he like?” he asked after a few seconds. “The other me, I mean.”

“He was… Scary. All he cared about was the thrill of the hunt. The mask made it impossible to tell what he was ever thinking, which made it ten times worse. Of course, it only covered his eyes and nose, so that you could still see his grin.” He shuddered. “I watched as he blew up the gates of L’manberg with a massive smile on his face.” 

“So then… why did you follow him in the first place?” 

“I had no choice. When Sapnap and I showed up, he was the only other person here. It was either join him or be left out to die to the mobs. After a while I guess I just didn’t realize how cruel he was. He was a good leader, and super charismatic. Not to mention a really good actor. By the time the war started… I guess I just trusted him, if that makes sense. He had kept me alive ‘till then, so why would anything change?”

Dream nodded. He wasn’t going to pretend like he understood what his friend had gone through, but he could still try and help in his own way.  “He taught you sword fighting, how to survive. You felt like you were indebted to him, right?” 

“Yeah… Pretty much. God, its so stupid! I should have been able to realize how messed up he was. Why the hell did I not realize?!” He took off his round sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tight. “I was so fucking stupid.” 

Hesitantly, Dream reached over and placed a hand on his friends back, trying to comfort him. “Hey, that’s not stupid. You’d be surprised at how easily our minds can trick us into thinking we’re doing the right thing. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's not your fault.” A stab of guilt shot through him. He had been the one to add George onto the server. If he had waited a bit, would things have been different? Maybe if he had acted differently on stream, or not sent the declaration of war, maybe things would have turned out different. The other Dream might have turned out to be a decent guy, not someone that people trembled before and feared. 

“I should have been smarter… I should have joined Sapnap when he went off on his own.” 

The weight of George’s words finally sunk in. The other Dream was a monster, a killer. He was the living, breathing version of the mask Dream sometimes wore in his videos. The act of someone who enjoyed the hunt, and nothing more. These past two weeks had been peaceful and calm compared to what everyone had normally lived through, and it was all because the monster was finally gone. But now… now they were about to bring him back. They were about to bring everyone’s worst nightmare back to life. 

What choice did they have? It was either that, or let the entire world get destroyed. Either way, the other Dream was about to ruin people’s lives. He sighed. “It's going to be alright, ok? We’ll figure something out, I promise. You’re not going to go back to living like that. I promise.” 

Now, it was just a matter of keeping that promise. 

~~~

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[mimssides]

Never Met You

Chapter 5: Defence

To protect those who they love is an act of strength and kindness. To protect they need rest themselves. They shall rest.

It was late and the palace was asleep. The rose maze was peacefully quiet and the moonlight bathed the world in a silver shimmer. It was beautiful.

And lonely.

Roman could not help himself. He had known Janus for so many years who loved and adored him. He had Virgil by his side who kept him sane and safe. He had Logan who had put up with all the unreasonable decision he had ever made.

And yet, as Roman sat down in the middle of the maze beneath the rose arch on the bench, he felt void. He had for all his life felt a certain longing for something that was not there. It had become worse in the last few weeks, especially since Janus had been mostly preoccupied with meetings and aiding Logan with his duties. He knew something was off and he was glad when they finally approached him and asked if he could go to Sictes to get some allies.

He would get going tomorrow, and while he didn’t like to leave Janus back, he knew it was the most reasonable thing he could do right now. It also was easier for him to not be in the castle. It made the void hurt less in a way.

Stillness.

Roman’s heart began to race. He jumped on his feet, feeling the tip of cold metal barely scratching the middle of his back. Twirling around, drawing his sword, which was sharp despite Janus’s protests, and facing a figure in black, face hidden behind a black mask.

An ambush.

The ambusher stormed at him but Roman dodged and evaluated his situation quickly. There were more people coming, he could hear the scurrying around now that he was listening for it. His chances could be worse. He knew the maze like no other, better than the gardeners even, and they were not aware that he was able to hold himself in a fight.

Dodging. Duck. Go for the legs and shove to the bushes. One distracted, a second and third one came from the opening to his left and one had jumped over the bushes in front of him. They were trying to corner him.

They would not succeed, Roman decided. With a grunt he manoeuvred himself towards the one on the left, went for his wrist and made him drop his sword. Next, he focused on the one in the front and-

He barely managed to pull away as the first ambusher grabbed him by the arm. Roman panted. No, he wasn’t exhausted yet. But they have been cornering him and he did not know how to get out of this situation anymore.

He couldn’t go like this. He couldn’t lose like this.

“HeeEEllooOOO!”

The squeaky maddening scream had the ambushers turn around. Roman used his chance and fled to the side as someone barrelled into the one in the middle and threw them right into the thorns. Without thinking Roman turned to the closest ambusher and began to duel them.

In the corner of his eyes, he saw the third one approach him from behind, calculating already how he could fight that one off.

“I’ve got your back! Worry about what’s in front of you, Romy!”

There was something in Roman’s chest. It was warm and loud and wild. It made him grin and go for his attacker, made him move quick and nimble, made him light as a feather and made it almost playfully easy for him to fight them off, as he cut them into their right shoulder.

They whistled. At once the two others moved away. Roman was about to follow them, but he stopped as a hand was put on his right shoulder and held him back. And just then the three ambushers were gone in the shadows.

The night was quiet again. As if nothing had happened. Roman could be dead now and no one would know until the gardeners would find him. Janus and Virgil would not find him, would only see the dried blood beneath his form, his lifeless corpse rotting amongst the grass and thorns.

“It is okay. We are okay, Roman. Breathe. Slow and steady. Slow and steady does it.”

In front of Roman was Green, standing in the faint moonlight. He had stepped in front of him, had put his other hand on his left shoulder and was asking him to calm down. And Roman did calm down. He had to. He had to quiet down and get out of the maze. They were still out in the open and needed to get away.

But first he had to focus on calming down. It would be fine. Never in his life Roman had found himself calming down so quickly but he was not going to question it and nodded at Green who waited for him to give him the green light to proceed. The two hastily went back to the castle.

When they were barely in sight of the guards, Green already called for them. Ordered them to immediately search the castle walls, the gates and passage ways to the door. No one was to go alone and they needed to search the rose maze this instance. They were about to dismiss his orders when they spotted Roman behind him. They froze on the spot and Roman told them to follow his orders.

The castle awoke. Roman and Green went inside, immediately heading towards the backroom in the servant wing. Roman had never told Green that they should go there but Green found the way nevertheless. On their way Roman requested the guards to wake the king and tell Janus and Virgil to “retreat”. They would know where to look for them.

Meanwhile, Roman and Green slipped by the guards and servants eyes, along the shadows and hallways rarely someone used. Roman knew them by heart. He had explored them when he was younger and studied every corner after the day it had happened. He needed to know where he could hide in a dangerous situation and after all those years the fear and terror had kept him from forgetting a single detail.

The backroom was in the last corner of the castle, a dead end where no one went when they were trying to escape or hide themselves in. And still, Roman had chosen this room to be his safe haven. There was security in an unlikely hiding spot and he sat down on a wooden chair as Green positioned himself next to the door. He was looking over to him and scanning the room all while listening at the door for whoever was to come in. They were quiet and waited.

Roman wasn’t quite sure when it happened but after some time, he had begun to analyse the intruders’ behaviour. He thought about how they entered the premises, how they fought and how they had focused on him. The conclusion he got to did not sit well with him and he was glad when he could change his focus on the door as he heard someone approach from the outside.

He knew the steps and before he could say it Green opened the door and let in Janus followed by Logan and Virgil. The king had still a rather sleepy look in his eyes and was wearing a nightgown but tensed immediately as he saw Roman sitting on the chest. Worriedly, he looked over to Green, hands pressed over his chest and motioned Virgil to close the door.

“There was an ambush.”

The terror on Janus’s face was indescribable. Without thinking he rushed over to Roman’s side, kneeled down in front of him and cupped his face between his hands.

“How? When? Why were you not in your room?”

Virgil’s voice was booming despite his low volume. Roman straightened up and softly pushed Janus’s hands out of his face. He then pulled Janus to sit next to him, while putting his arm around his shoulders.

“I could not sleep,” Roman explained and observed with one eye, how Green led Logan to sit on another box as the king trembled under the stressful revelation. “I did not mean to alarm you and went outside to catch some fresh air. They came for me in the rose maze. Green came and fought them off. It cannot be longer than half an hour ago.”

“You are not allowed to simply leave your room without informing us! Not in times like these!” Virgil hissed towards the prince.

“I can be killed in my own room just as easily as in this rose maze, Virgil. It makes no difference, if they want, they will find me anywhere.”

Virgil’s face froze and Janus gripped Roman’s arm, exclaiming loudly: “Roman!”

“This changes nothing. I will go tomorrow. We need the backup. Now more than ever.”

“You are most certainly not leaving! We haven’t even found out who did this yet! It might as well be someone from Sictes who allied with George to find you! I will not send you into your death.”

Janus had tears in his eyes as he begged for Roman to stay. He begged for his friend to be reasonable and approachable, to not fall back into habits that could have him hurt or even killed. And Roman just looked at him with those determined eyes and this heavy look. This look that made it clear that he would not just stop.

“This was not someone from Sictes,” Green broke through the moment and all eyes landed on him. “It was an Raganian blade these attackers wielded. But it was not someone sent by King George directly, otherwise they would not have tried to kill him.”

“Wha-” Janus stuttered but Green continued.

“It is smarter to take the prince hostage, instead of killing him. It would force us to act quietly and would keep the other kingdoms from interfering out of concern for Roman’s wellbeing, while killing Roman would lead to a guaranteed uproar in Sictes as well as in Kainen. And while King George is proud and overconfident, he is far from stupid. This is not a risk he would take.”

Another pause. Logan sighed and buried his head in his hands. He went mentally through what he had heard Green and Roman tell them just now and tried to puzzle the picture together. The timing was eery, he had to consider if there was a mole among their midst. Even so, it could have been a coincidence. What was not a coincidence though were the attempt on Roman which could have also caused his own fall, since he only was holding this position because of Roman’s order.

“So, it most likely was an operation contrived by someone in George’s court who went behind his back?” Logan concluded and glimpsed up to Green who nodded.

“Yes, that is it most likely. The way these people moved hints towards special training for a secret force, and their weaponry and clothing were perfectly tailored for each of them, which hints to a benefactor of high standing who could pay and arrange those things to be given to them secretly. They knew what they were doing and probably had scouted the area. Still, that they found Roman in the maze could mean that-”

Roman continued Green’s sentence as if they had coordinated it: “-they found me through magic. Yes, I came to that conclusion as well. They should not have known that I was not in my room. I haven’t been outside in the maze for the entirety of my stay. They should have looked in my room first, but they haven’t been there, as otherwise Virgil would have caught them.”

Silence stretched over the five men in the room for a moment. Outside, far away in the halls, the guards were bustling around, servants running and following the instructions Green and Roman had given them a few minutes prior.

“Why were you outside?”

Logan’s voice was not sharp but still cut through the silence like a hot knife through butter. Green, who the question had been posed to, opened his mouth but was promptly cut off by Janus adding: “We need the truth here. Only the truth will let you leave this room alive right now.”

Roman froze. No, how- Green was not the traitor! He knew he wasn’t! Janus was wrong to assume that Green was a mole just because he was out in the night without reason. Because he somehow had the perfect timing in rescuing him. Because he somehow had known that the swords were Raganian and their fighting style one of a secret force.

Oh, no.

Then Green dropped on his knees before the king. There was a look of deep devotion, certainty and the uncharacteristic hint of shame in his face. Roman watched Green’s hand twitch as he lifted it towards Logan’s knee but stopped and put them onto his own thighs.

And Green spoke: “I am aware that my knowledge of the situation and the details surrounding it are suspicious. If you need me gone, I will be happy to rot in your prisons or decapitated on your demand, Your Majesty. Because I know the reason, I have to give you will not be able to cease your worries, but I shall give it to you nevertheless.”

He took one last breath as he bowed his head and resumed his answer.

“I – I am plagued by nightmares, have been for many, many years. They are senseless and violent and bloody. Cruel with no rhyme or reason to it. I am quite used to the imagery but once in a while they get especially troubling and I found myself having such dreams far too often lately. I try to get to bed late because of this, but tonight I forgot the time and wandered to the gardens. They were quite beautiful in the moonlight and it was then that I heard the ambush. I know this is not a sufficient answer but it is the answer I-”

“I believe you,” Logan spoke the words which Roman thought.

Roman watched with a smile as Logan tapped Green under the chin and the guard looked up with big disbelieving eyes. For the first time since Roman had come back from his journey Logan did not look like he was as tense as an overstretched spring.

“You do?”

Logan grinned and nodded. He eyed Janus from the corner of his eyes and saw him pressing his lips together in displeasure. The guard had spoken the truth and Janus could confirm it despite the sour taste the whole situation left on his tongue.

“Yes, I do,” Logan confirmed now verbally. “You did not lie, the Royal Advisor could tell so much, and you have yet to make a single mistake in front of me or the others which would lead to me distrusting you. And I have to admit that it is quite a relief for me to learn that I made a good choice by having you by my side.”

***

  “I don’t think, I’ll ever get used to this,” █████ said as he looked at the crown in his hands.

 He and Roman had met up in Roman’s room after the mourning festivities had ended and all of the castle had quieted down. Now it was only the two of them, █████ leaning against Roman’s side. Roman had put his arm around his shoulder and was staring at the sparkling crown in █████’s hands as well. The faint candle light threw dark shadows and Roman tensed up a little. █████ noticed and pressed himself closer to Roman’s side.

 “Neither will I,” Roman said after a few moments and took the crown out of █████’s hands and set it on the night table.

 They looked at each other for a moment. Roman opened his mouth to say something but stopped and instead signed “I’m sorry.” Talking was still too much of a task for him, after a whole year of silence. █████ just shook his head and put his arms around Roman’s torso to squish him in a hug.

 Minutes passed by and eventually Roman wiggled out of █████’s embrace. Quietly, he got off the bed and motioned for █████ to follow him. He followed and the two went to the bay window, which Roman opened and promptly climbed out off. Perplexed █████ stared at him for a moment before he followed as well and climbed down the ivy vines which grew beneath Roman’s window.

 When █████’s feet touched the ground, Roman took his hand and pulled him along in a hurry. █████ let him do so and simply observed the dark surroundings until they ended up in the rose maze.

 Months later Roman would finally explain to █████ how he had spent many days out in the gardens and familiarized himself with the gardeners and how they maintained the bushes and the maze. Thus, he knew exactly at which spots he could hide the wooden swords, which he pulled out of the bushes close to the middle of the rose maze. But at this particular instance Roman did not explain █████ what he was doing and simply handed him the wooden sword.

 “What is the meaning of this?” █████ asked without taking the sword.

 Roman sighed and looked up to the sky. The moon wasn’t out anymore and stars were sparkling up there in the prettiest lights.

 Roman licked his lips and looked back down meeting █████’s eyes directly.

 “I’m scared that they’ll come for us me.”

 █████ stiffened. He heard the unsaid I’m afraid they’ll come for you.

 “I want us me to be prepared. They don’t teach us me to fight properly and I want to know how. I want to train. I want us me to be able to survive.”

 A moment passed. █████ took a deep breath and then the sword. For a few minutes Roman explained the basic fighting stances he had seen the soldiers and guards practice, until he began to simply show them as talking got too hard for him. They didn’t stay outside for much longer and soon went back through the window.

 Many nights like these would follow but that night █████ and Roman did not think of the future any longer, huddled together in Roman’s bed and slept peacefully for the first time in a year.

***

Roman had never been so relieved to hear somebody admitting that they had nightmares. Green’s words had done something in his mind and for a moment, a very small split second, the loneliness in his chest shrunk a little.

“Alright, then. Green’s good but we still aren’t through with you Roman. You will not leave tomorrow,” Virgil said stubbornly.

Roman shot up from his seat and balled his fists.

“You cannot decide this!”

“No, I can’t but I won’t accompany you to your fucking death, Princey! And you know that I am doing you a favour. You are smarter that this!”

“I am not stupid or naïve!” Roman all but shouted towards his friend and tried to get a grip on himself.

Instinctively Roman stepped back, his back touching the wall of the chamber and he watched through the group gathered around him. Janus’s expression was apologizing but stern, he was on Virgil’s side, no doubt. Logan was unreadable but Roman knew that in the end Logan was a strategist and him leaving the castle after what had happened tonight was far too risky. Yes, Roman understood their stances, but the problem was that he was useless except for diplomacy missions. He could not help prepare an army, he could not plan infrastructure or safety plans. The only thing he was, was a pretty face and a charming voice with some good social networking skills. And in the castle that meant nothing.

“Your Royal Highness.”

Roman’s view was blurry but he managed to look at Green who spoke softly: “You are quite brilliant with your words and your charm. And I don’t doubt that you could get through another ambush. But remember that Sictes has no guards like we do. Remember that their walls aren’t as thick as ours and their history hasn’t been filled with assassinations and bloodshed. We shall not bring danger to other kingdoms if we needn’t, Your Royal Highness. We cannot bring the doom to other places just to safe our neck. I know that at heart you are too caring to do something like that.”

It was not the words exactly. Nor was it the phrasing or the intonation. But never in his life had Roman felt his father’s presence shining so much through a person. And with everything that had been happening tonight he felt his hold on himself crumble. Trembling he sat back down on the chest, pressed his hand over his nose and mouth and tried to not cry like a small child because this man somehow reminded him of his father.

Of course, Janus shimmed closer to him and asked what was wrong. Of course, Virgil knelt down next to him and calmingly pressed his hand against his thigh. It took a minute until Roman was calm again, he managed to keep himself from crying and brushed his two worried partners off.

“I see your point. I know it has been a close call and I understand the risks. I just wished I could be of use somehow. Here I can’t do anything,” Roman explained to Green first and then pushed his focus towards Logan.

Logan raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Swiftly he crossed his legs and told Roman: “I can think of a few things you could help me with. Tomorrow we can talk about it in detail but for now I will remind you that your mere presence and smile will let the people hope. They have lost your father and mother, the first to finally bring some sort of peace and prosperity to these lands, and you are the result of their believes and strengths. You are what remains and no matter how good of a king I am, they need to know that their prince is alive and well. They need you alive and so do I. So, thank you for staying here. It will be a great relief.”

Roman nodded and Green and Janus announced that they were now going to check in with the patrols that were sent out to see if it was safe for both king and prince to get back into their sleeping chambers. Virgil would stay with them and keep them safe.

The door fell into its lock as Green and Janus left. Virgil eyed first Roman and then Logan for a few moments. He said nothing as Logan stood up, his legs shakier than usual. He only reacted when he suddenly leaned against the wall to keep himself upright.

“Logan?” Roman asked as Virgil helped Logan regain his balance and led him to the prince.

A little floppy Logan sat down next to him and rubbed his temple.

“Just some light-headedness. Nothing you shall worry about. Now, what had you moved so deeply by Green’s words? I have rarely seen you in such a state and I would like to know what brought it up.”

Roman kneaded his hands and opened his left one. He had thin long fingers, long nailbeds. He was told that they were the hands of his mother. But his complexion and facial structure were his father’s. A memorial to them both.

“I don’t know what it is with him but-” Roman looked up and found the courage to meet Logan’s eyes- “he reminds me of something I can’t quite pin down. And just how he spoke, the way he addressed me, it was as if my father was here for a moment. He just. He really reminded me of him there and while it was painful to remember, it was also unspeakably comforting.”

Logan was not a touchy person in general. So, when he hugged Roman it came a bit as a surprise. What was even more surprising was the fact of how much Roman leaned into the touch. He buried his head in the nape of Logan’s neck and Logan let him do so wordlessly. They parted when Virgil remarked that he could hear Janus and Green come back.

The area had been scouted and a few traces of the intruders had been found close to the eastern wall but otherwise there seemed nothing to go off. Janus had the guards patrol the walls and would initiate a closer look on the kingdom’s borders as soon as the next morning broke. Though for now Logan and Roman could retreat to their rooms, with heightened security of course.

“Thank you very much, Janus. Would you and Virgil accompany me? I wanted to have a word. Green, please bring Roman to his sleeping chamber,” Logan ordered and slowly stood up.

Virgil quirked his up but wordlessly moved up to his side and opened the door for him and Janus. Green followed with Roman and they parted in the hallway to get to their respective wings. Roman looked at the guards standing alongside the walls, the servants bustling around with sleep still in their faces despite the hustle in the castle.

“How late is it even?” Roman mumbled to himself when they finally go to his wing.

Green opened the door to his chamber and said in the same moment: “Half past 1, Your Royal Highness.”

Roman blinked. That was indeed rather late. He gulped and walked towards his room. In the doorframe he stopped and turned around to look at Green. For a moment he mused and then he had made up his mind.

“Would you terribly mind to come inside for a moment? I know your day has been long but I doubt that another few minutes will make that much of a difference.”

Green’s lips twitched but he bowed his head and followed Roman inside. Easily, Roman strode across the room to his little sitting corner and told Green to sit with him. The guard followed and sat silently waiting for Roman to say what he wanted to say.

Roman straightened his pants for a moment and looked over the ruffles and dirt that had been caught on bottom of them. It was rare for him to get this dirty. Not because he didn’t want to but because he was kept from doing so.

“You didn’t tell them that I fought alongside you. Why?”

Green shrugged.

“You said I fought them of, so I assumed you didn’t want them to know that you fought as well. And I had never heard people talking about your sword fighting skills, so what I saw was most likely something you learnt in secret. And while Janus would react delightfully appalled to you hiding this from him, I did not want to be a tattletale. You’ve got your reasons and I respect that, Your Royal Highness.”

Roman listened closely and saw how Green gesticulated during his speech. The movements of his hands were peculiar, not random and agitated but had a method to it. Like the signs he had made up during his year of mourning Roman’s mind added. Green had handled his panic more masterfully than Virgil had after five years of knowing him. He had used nicknames for him, had included himself when he told Roman they were fine.

“Thank you,” Roman settled with instead of voicing any of those observations. “For the secret keeping, the saving and for talking some sense into me. The gods know what would happen if I had kept fighting Virgil and Janus on this. Eventually this would have escalated a lot worse than it did, and I have no intention of hurting these two.”

The look and grin Green had on his faces told Roman that he had known so even if he hadn’t said it. How odd. This stranger being able to just understand him so effortlessly did not worry or bother him nearly as much as it should.

They sat there in silence a little longer. Roman’s head was buzzing, his chest felt heavier but more fulfilled than usual. He again and again eyed this new guard. Thinking about what Janus had told him about Green. About the kid he saved, about things he knew but shouldn’t know about.

Green meanwhile decided that he needed to get Roman to sleep. Calmly, he said to him that they should probably head to bed now and got a silent nod as an answer. He stood and turned away as the prince went to change into his nightclothes and watched as he silently crawled into his bed. He was about to bow and turn away, when a question kept him in place.

“Will you stay?”

Green looked over his shoulder. The faint light of the candle next to his bed illuminated him in a flickering but faint glow. He looked so much smaller and fragile than he should.

“In the room?” Green asked with furrowed brows.

Roman’s voice was quiet as he said: “Yes.”

And in the castle. In our lives. Here, with us. Roman added in his mind but the words were stuck in his mouth. He didn’t know why but with Green here he felt just less lonely.

To his luck, Green didn’t question him. Instead, he simply nodded and sat down on the bench to the foot of his bed. Roman thanked him again and asked if he should blow out the candle.

“You may,” Green said and the room was coated in darkness.

___

Link for AO3, Taglist, Masterlist, and next Chapters are in my first reblog!