#a little bit sad but less sad when she's around molly

[natp20]

everyone say thank you to hunter severn bonyun for understanding the most crucial aspect of yasha's character design (big and strong)

[toomanyfandoms-notenoughfics]

Celestial Beings

Chapter Two: Talking it Out

Characters: Reader, Molly Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black

Summary: After many, many days of dealing with Moody's visits, (y/n) get two new visitors, who seem to be much much nicer.

Word Count: 2,285

Warnings: Torture Mention, SA Mention (it's mostly glossed over, no major details), Child Abuse Mention

A/N: Just in case I forgot to mention previously, this is not completely canon-compliant. I also have made Moody more of an a-hole, if anyone wants to know my thought process on that matter go ahead in send in a quick ask. Actually, feel free to send in an ask about anything, I would love to answer! I'm enjoying writing this, and I hope that at least some people are enjoying reading this.

Torture and pain were nothing new to (y/n), actually, it rather reminded her of home. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in the small room, nor how many times she’d had her “visits” with Moody. They rarely lasted longer than a few hours. The longest time, from what little sense of it she had, was somewhere around 8 hours.

Speaking of home, she missed it quite a bit. Malfoy Manor was a lot more cruel on the inside than most people could even guess. Not particularly any fault of Mrs. Malfoy or Draco, but rather Lucius. The head of the household, and loyal follower of her father, obeyed any and every command given. Of course, most of those orders were on how to best “raise and properly train” (y/n), which typically involved some form of torture.

(Y/n) of course, followed along as well, it was easier than dealing with the consequences. Out of everything, waterboarding was the worst. Followed closely behind spending any nights with a few perverted men, less as a consequence, more so as a reward for their loyalty to You-Know-Who. She had the scars to prove the ordeals she went through, as much as she would prefer to forget.

Even though she acted nonchalant about it all, she was still a person. She just couldn’t afford to be seen that way. In her opinion, it was better to be seen as an object or a weapon, a mere pawn on a chessboard. Then at least she herself could pretend to have no weaknesses, no breaking point. She preferred that people believed the rumors and lies, that she was as deadly as her father and as crazed as Bellatrix Lestrange.

Mrs.Weasley opened the cell door, a tired look on her face and a plate in hand. She gave (y/n) a sad smile as she set it down near the entrance.

“Couldn’t you just give him something to go off of?” Mrs. Weasley pleaded with her. “Anything so you could have a break from it all? You look downright awful, I’m worried for you.”

“What could I give him that he would believe?” (Y/n) asked, slowly grabbing the sandwich from the plate and taking a bite. “After all, I imagine it’s been at least a few weeks if not a month or so? I haven’t uttered a single thing he’s believed, including that his curses and beatings won’t work. I’m used to it, it’s what I’ve been molded to be.”

“What about something small, something that no one knows about, well You-Know-Who?” Mrs. Weasley tries, leaning against the door frame. “From what I’ve gathered he hasn’t exactly been the most caring of-”

“Don’t.” (Y/n) said flatly, meeting the older woman’s eyes. “Truly don’t go there. He cares, just in his own way.”

Mrs. Weasley is quiet after that, unsure as to what to say. She sighs, picking up the plate and turning to leave. Once the door was shut (y/n) sits back against the cold wall, no longer having the appetite for her sandwich.

“He does care. I just don’t know if it’s about me or the results I give him.” she gathers up the blanket, draping it over her legs. “No, he cares about me, what father wouldn’t care about their children? Even Lucius cares about Draco, and he doesn’t care about much else than impressing my father.” (Y/n) sat in the dark, with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company and the occasional bug scurrying across the floor.

This time when the door opened it was someone (y/n) had not seen before. Or rather two someones she hadn’t seen. Both men were tall, one with dark, long curly hair and the other with light brown, short-combed hair. (Y/n) recognized one of them as Sirius Black, the first person to escape Azkaban prison. The other took her a few seconds to place, it wasn’t until the light hit his face, revealing the scars that she knew it was Remus Lupin, a werewolf known to be heavily against her father.

“Well, isn’t this a treat?” She said, slowly getting to her feet. “A blood-traitor and a half-breed? What did I do to have you grace my presence?” Remus flinched at the mention of half-breed.

“I came down here to see who could possibly have Moody stumped,” Sirius growled, stepping in front of Remus ever so slightly. “Imagine my surprise when I see you’re nothing more than another idiot, too stubborn and ignorant for your own good.”

“I’m the idiot?” (Y/n) laughed. “Am I the one torturing the same person the same 20 ways over and over in the hopes something will give? No, I’m the one who is with-standing it because the consequences of giving in are worse than dealing with a little more pain.”

“What could be worse than everything Moody has put you through?” Remus mused. “He’s told us some of what he’s done, none of which we agreed with. The real reason we’re down here is because we took a vote.”

“A vote?” She took a step back, unsure now of the situation she was in. “A vote for what? Who gets first dibs?”

“What?” Sirius looked taken aback, holding up his hands innocently. “No, we took a vote over if Moody should be down here with you anymore.”

“We decided against it. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.” Remus conjured up a lantern and hung it on the ceiling. “From now on we’re just going to talk.”

“So we’ve moved on from physical torture to psychological, understood.” (Y/n)’s shoulder relaxed slightly. “I can handle that too.”

“No, no, no. I think you’re still not understanding.” Remus smiled, looking at Sirius. “That’s all we’re going to do from now on. Sirius has enlightened us on what you’ve probably grown used to growing up.”

“Enlightened? What would he know about any of that?” she sneered, feeling even more vulnerable than before. Somehow talking seemed more daunting than hours of Cruciatous curses and water-boarding.

“You’re forgetting what family I, regrettably, belong to,” Sirius grumbled, shutting the door. “I have a feeling your upbringing was at least somewhat similar to my own, if not worse. Your father seems to pay you the same amount of care my mother gave me, which is to say nothing unless you are their perfect doll.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly be-”

“Don’t lie, it doesn’t suit you.” Sirius glared at her, arms crossed. “Besides, you can give everyone else the whole “He cares for me, just in a different way” b.s. like you gave Molly, but it won’t work on me. I tried that too, now I realize how bloody wrong I was.”

“Sirius, we came to talk, not to therapise,” Remus warned, putting his hand on Sirius’s chest. “How about we start small, like cornish pixie small?” he glanced at (y/n) almost asking her for permission.

“Right, apologies.” Sirius took a deep breath. “Let’s just start small, right?” Remus dropped his hand and turned back to (y/n).

“I don’t see what actual choice I have,” (Y/n) sat down on top of her sleeping bag, bringing her knees to her chest. “What’s the rules then?”

“No rules, just talk.” Remus once again said, conjuring up some wooden chairs. “Would you like a chair as well, or are you okay there?”

“I’m fine.” (Y/n) watched as the two men sat down. “So, what would you like to talk about? The weather? To me, it seems the same every day to me.”

“Funny,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “But, to be completely honest I haven’t a clue.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Remus asks. “I prefer blue myself.”

“I like gold a lot,” Sirius mutters, still seemingly uninterested in the conversation. “It’s one of the few colors I can see both in my animagus form and human form.”

“It may seem cliche, but I like green.” (Y/n) admits after sitting in silence for a moment. “Not any green though, I enjoy deep greens, phthalo green is a good one, and so is forest green, and juniper.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about different shades of greens, is there any particular reason?” Sirius asked, sitting up more in his chair.

“Not really, it just comes in handy when it comes to potions and herbology.” she shrugged. The three of them were silent for a moment. “So, did either of you ever, um, I don’t know, did either of you ever find a way to sneak into the headmaster’s quarters? Because I did, plenty of times.”

“And you never tried to kill him for your dad?” Sirius seemed confused. “I feel like if you wanted his approval as bad as you seem to, you would’ve, well you know.”

“Answer my question first and then I’ll answer yours.” (Y/n) responded. “Have either of you snuck into Dumbledore’s quarters?”

“I, well, I tried to once, but not while I was still at the school,” Sirius smiled to himself. “It was after I escaped prison. I snuck into the castle looking for Peter and saw a rat head that way. Turned out to be a normal rat.”

“I never really even thought of the idea. I mean, he’s someone I imagine has a lot of security and spells cast around him to protect him from that sort of thing.” Remus admitted. “Your turn, answer Sirius’s question.”

“No, I never tried to kill him.” (Y/n) smirks. “The idea is quite intriguing though. Could you imagine how funny it’d be, if the daughter of the all and powerful Dark Lord, age 13, manages to murder the one person he fears above all else? Besides I liked school.”

“Why did you sneak in then?” Remus prodded, leaning forwards, studying her as she toyed with her fingers. “If not to kill Dumbledore, why bother?”

“To be completely and totally honest? I wanted to be the best at potions, and Dumbledore just so happened to be very close friends with a certain Nicholas Flammel. In order to be able to make a Philosopher’s Stone one would have to excel in both alchemy and potion-making.” she stood up, leaning against the wall. “He had a portrait of him in there, I would sneak in, ask him a million and one questions about potions, and then by the next time I came back I had tested and confirmed what he told me. I took great joy in Snape watching me get better at his own craft than he was.”

Sirius let out a gruff chuckle, which soon became a hollering laugh. Even Remus couldn’t contain himself, joining in with his own chorus of giggles. (Y/n) didn’t quite understand what was so funny, but watching the two of them laugh as hard as they were made her let out a giggle or two. The three of them talked, just talked for a time.

When the knock came at the door (y/n) stiffened, eyeing Sirius as he opened it. Much to her relief, it was Mrs. Weasley bringing dinner along with a small pillow. Sirius thanked her, taking the food from her arms and holding it out to (y/n), offering it to her. She cautiously took it, careful to not get too close as she retreated to her corner of the cell. Mrs. Weasley smiled and held up the pillow.

“It’s not much, but it’s better than what Alastor was giving you.” The older woman set it next to the door. “Whenever you’re ready for it you can grab it. No rush, dear.”

(Y/n) nodded, whispering a small thank you under her breath as Mrs.Weasley left. The soup and bread she had been given more than filled her up. Remus and Sirius continued talking to one another as she ate, everyone now slightly more comfortable with each other.

“I have to admit, she makes good food. Great food actually, Mrs. Malfoy has never been adept in the kitchen department, nor has anyone she’s hired either.” (Y/n) told them, licking the sides of the bowl as she finished her soup. “And as enjoyable as this has been today, I do have a serious question to pose.”

“What question?” Remus asked, stiffening in his seat. Sirius’s eyes seemed to darken as he looked at her as if he was ready to pounce if needed.

“Well, if I’m not to be tortured or forced to divulge any information, what do you expect to do with me then?” setting down the bowl she met their eyes. “You can’t possibly keep me in here forever, but you also can’t just let me out of here either. Which leaves very little option other than killing me or me somehow escaping and taking as many of you with me as I can.”

The men look both shocked and hurt, perhaps a dash of anger in Sirius’s eyes. Neither of them says a thing as they stand up and walk towards the door. (Y/n) smiles at them, pushing their now empty plate and bowl towards them.

“It’s only a matter of time as to which happens first. Personally, I’ve accepted dying in here. No resources will be wasted on a rescue for me, nor will there be anyone to mourn me. I suggest you make the decision soon before I find a way to slaughter the lot of you in your sleep.” she threatens, meeting Remus’s gaze. “Because you were right, Dumbledore does have plenty of security in his quarters, much more so than the barrier spells that get weaker day by day in here.”

~~{𝘌𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘸𝘰}~~

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [8]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 12,980

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, violence, mentions of canon violence, reader goes a little off the rails, a whole lot of arguing, description of drowning (it's a metaphor), mentions of death lol, mentions of canon decapitation (I mean Jason did do that), one of Dick's thoughts is inspired by him killing the Joker in Joker: Last Laugh because I mean hey, I promise I do fix everyone's dynamics with Bruce later I like when the entire batfam gets along, mentions of canon drug use and making a drug

Summary:❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: It's long again but it's important lmao Jason is in this chapter, just hang in there lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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The not-to-so funeral, funeral, is mostly a blur. For obvious reasons, the casket was closed the whole time. To you, it didn’t matter. You saw him. You saw him before and you saw him after. His mangled face stares back at you in the mirror. You didn’t need to see him like that again.

Bruce has the funeral within a day and a half, not informing any of the Titans or anyone. Molly only came because you knew and she came time to get there. You want to fight and scream about it but at this point, you're too exhausted. And you're so numb. And in pain, you're numb and in pain which doesn’t make any sense but everything hurts while you feel nothing at all. It’s like drowning but without the panic.

Your head throbs and that’s always the start. Pressure builds as you try to hold your breath because letting in the loss of Jason seems to be the worst possible thing you could ever do. With every breath you take, that’s less he got to take. Your head bangs and throbs, wailing for you to breathe and let the pain in for just a second. And once you do, it’s water rushing into your lungs with a single gasp.

Drowning is suffocating and agonizing. It’s as if your lungs are being stabbed over and over with tiny needles with every breath you try to take. Your lungs are filled with cement and stabbing, weighing you down with every desperate gasp. The water sloshes around, seeping into all of your open nerves with striking electricity. It’s the worst pain of your entire life.

You don’t care anymore. It’s hard and it’s like these are the longest days of your life. There’s just pain and numbness and anger. That’s all there is now. So, you only come out of her room for the bathroom and to watch Jason’s casket be lowered into the ground. You don’t leave your bed or say a word to Bruce for the first two days.

By day three, some of the sadness and exhaustion has manifested into more anger. It's all anger at the world and Bruce and the Joker and yourself. You're even, selfishly, a little bit mad at Jason even though you don't want to be. But, the anger builds until you can't sit still anymore and you set a plan into action.

You warned Bruce. You told him the Joker's death was inevitable. You'd do it if the Joker ever touched someone you cared about, if he ever touched Jason. Jason is dead and as far as you're concerned, your loyalty to Bruce and his morals died with him. So, you start a plan to break into Arkham and kill him yourself.

You wait until Bruce is asleep before you sneak into the Batcave and start your research. The Joker doesn’t get to just get away this time. He killed your mom. And now he killed Jason. You're fed the fuck up with Bruce letting him off. So, you plan and plot and look at blueprints of Arkham, trying to figure out how you can get in, kill him, and get out.

Jason always told you the grudges might help, something you find odd given him not being a grudge holder. But, being mad and wanting revenge against the Joker, is a lot better than dealing with the pain of losing him. So, you plan and plan until the late morning.

Dick and Gar show up that afternoon from San Francisco. Bruce told them you haven't left your room or eaten anything since Jason died. Dick is the one that tries to get to you first, figuring maybe he can break a little bit of the ice like when he brought you back to the tower.

He knocks on your door despite Bruce saying you won’t answer or come out. But Dick tries anyway and when he doesn’t get an answer, he opens the door anyway. You were once in his care. Jason was once in his care.

“Hey, you awake?” Dick asks, sticking his hands in his pockets as your back is faced away from him, laying on your side in one of Jason's favorite hoodies.

You ignore him, keeping your stare at the wall. Talking seems like it will be too much. It'll be him saying he's sorry for your loss and then you'll start crying again. It'll be him giving you a look and you hate getting looks. It's not Dick's fault. You're not mad at him, you can't afford to waste your energy being mad at him when it's already torn between grief-filled revenge and sobbing uncontrollably. The best thing you can do for yourself is ignore him. To ignore everyone. It's to push them away.

“Bruce said you haven’t been eating or leaving your room.” Dick walks further into your room, moving to get a look at you and he can see you're awake now but you don’t look at him. “You need to eat.” Dick states but you still won’t look at him. “I know it’s…hard. I know Jason meant a lot to you. You two went through a lot together. But, he wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

Dick says that on purpose, thinking maybe it’ll get a rise out of you. Maybe you’d say something like he wouldn’t know because he never knew Jason or he didn’t care enough about Jason to know what he would want. But you say nothing, you don’t look at him, and you don’t move. Dick would think you were dead if it were for the blankets moving with every breath you take.

“Okay, well, I’ll be down the hall. Gar is here and the other Titans will be here in a few days. You can come talk if you want.” Dick offers but again, nothing from you so Dick leaves you to yourself.

The tears come back as soon as you hear the door close. The weight in your chest is so heavy you can’t even bear it. You don’t know how. Things get heavy, you put it on Jason. Jason was so good at carrying your weight for you and now he’s gone. And you have no idea how you're ever supposed to carry the weight of losing him. You shouldn’t have to.

It’s not fair. It was senseless and cruel and brutal. And you think he must have been scared in his final moments. You wonder if he knew you’d be looking for him, maybe he thought you’d come to save him like you always did. But you let him down. A sob rips through your throat at the very thought and you can’t do it.

Gar tries again a few hours later. He’s going through it, too. It’s different with Dick. Dick got to know Jason better over the last few months but he didn’t know him like Gar did. They were best friends and they talked everyday. He’s the best friend Gar ever had and he’s going through the loss of it, too. But, a part of him is worried he’s going to lose you with him.

But, similar to Dick, you don't say anything and you feel bad about it even. You know it hurts him, too. They were best friends but it's too damn hard to look at him. You know, to some extent, Jason's blood is also on your hands. How are you supposed to tell Gar that? You can't and you swear you do not deserve the empathy that radiates from Gar. So, you ignore him only for him to sit with you anyway and turn on one of your mutually favorite movies.

Gar doesn't give up and you don't have to talk but he knows being alone in grief is not going to do you any good. Sitting with you is something he can do and if you decide still, not to talk, that's fine. But, he wants to be here just in case you do. And about halfway through the movie, you finally cave and turn around to face him with tear-stained cheeks.

"I know." Gar nods softly. "I miss him, too." Gar says softly.

You let out a sob, slamming your eyes shut. Gar reaches over and pulls you into a hug. The two of you break into each other’s arms. How are you supposed to figure out how to live your lives without him in them anymore? You’ve done it with your parents and Donna. You have done it and you can do it again but how? It’s so damn hard and it just keeps happening. You both keep losing people. How much loss can two people even take before it all becomes too much? You swears this is it. This is too much. Jason Todd was the last straw. You're tired of the circle.

Molly comes by the next day. You haven't been answering her texts or calls which isn't surprising. Molly decided to give you a couple of days to be alone before stopping by again. She needed those couple of days to gather herself, too. Jason was her best friend, too. but, Molly has something interesting to tell you and she hopes, given finding out about the vigilante life, maybe it'll get you to at least get out of bed.

"Hey." Molly calls and you wave your arm haphazardly at her from your bed. "I have something you might wanna know." Molly comes and plops down beside you.

You turn around slowly, eyes narrowing at her. You don't say anything, however, you decide just to listen. A really big part of you wants to push Molly away, too. It seems safer that way. But, it also seems cruel to do it again. You did it once and it was always something you regretted.

"Has Dick or Bruce mentioned the new crime lord?" Molly asks and you raise a brow. Molly asked around about him a little bit and that's what he's being referred to apparently. "Well, two nights ago, he showed up at my apartment with Diego."

"What?" You question immediately, your voice cracked and rugged.

"Yeah, he just showed up with him. He told me to get better locks?" Molly shakes her head. "I have no idea but Diego was fine."

"How would he even know about Diego and you?" You ask and Molly was right, it does pique your interest a little bit. You haven't heard anything about the new guy but it is interesting. New crime lord shows up and he drops off a missing kid unharmed? That shit is weird, even for Gotham.

"I have no idea. But, he seemed...familiar, I think but also really intimidating." Molly shakes her head. "I don't know but I thought you'd wanna know. Did you want to look into him for me?" Molly asks casually and hopefully.

You see through it. You know what Molly is trying to do and maybe it'll work a little bit. You're already looking into how you can get away with killing the Joker. You could squeeze this guy into it. Maybe it'll be a good distraction from the stabbing and suffocating pain of grief. You always did like to run from things that hurt. This is an opportunity to do just that and for a good cause. He knows where Molly lives and that's a problem.

"Are you just trying to get me out of bed?"

"A little bit." Molly laughs softly. "Jason would go after him, or look into him." 

You let out a scoff. "Yeah, probably." You roll your eyes. "Fine, but only because he showed up at your fucking apartment and that's weird as fuck. You do need better locks though."

"Yeah, I'll get to that." Molly quips back.

"Still have a Wayne credit card, want it to buy better locks?" You offer.

"You just wanna spite Bruce."

"And make sure you're safe. Sick of losing people."

"At least you're talking." Molly smiles widely.

"Yeah." You answer shortly.

That night, after everyone has gone into their rooms for the night, you go back to the Batcave and continue planning. But, on top of that, you do what you promised Molly. You start looking into the new so-called crime lord. He showed up at her apartment. That's reason enough for concern and you aren't about to lose another person. And of course, Bruce already has a file on him.

According to the file, he's already decapitated six men of the major drug families in Gotham. You give the screen a grimace reading the words and then going to autopsy reports. Decapitation is a personal way of murder. That seems weird for someone willing to drop off a kidnapped kid but you just keep reading over everything. You find out he also killed Pete Hawkins, this time with a bullet to the head which explains how he found Diego. But, you still find that confusing as you go back to Pete Hawkins' file.

He was just working with the Joker, not other families. Why the hell would the guy target scum like Pete Hawkins when he's going after the families? Going after the families means going after the drug trade in Gotham, not whatever weird shit the Joker had planned with kids. This whole thing is weird and if you were being honest, a little annoying. The Joker was just the first part of your plan.

The next step is men like Pete Hawkins, people working with the Joker. The new guy managed to already beat you to the punch and you find that to be annoying. There are others though, at least, and you can still target them as long as this guy doesn't. You're done with the way this city chews and eats the innocent. Bruce's ways clearly don't work enough. So, you continue your research spread across the new guy and the best way to get into Arkham.

The following night, Barbara comes over to have a drink with Bruce and Dick. Dick convinced her to come talk to Bruce. You can hear them from your room. They're laughing and you don't know how they even managed to get a laugh out. But, it piques your curiosity. Gar told you earlier that he's worried Dick might have you committed if you don't get up and try. This seems like an excuse enough to make an appearance, if for no other reason, than to just listen. They're talking about Jason.

"So, then, Jason corners Mad Hatter and he starts swearing at him like going off." Barbara says and you stop just before the entrance of the room to listen to the story. You lean against the wall, sucking in a breath. "Like 'you short fucking hat-wearing fuck' fuck you'. And Hatter stands there stunned that Robin's cussing him out. And then Bruce came in and do you remember what you said to Jason?" Barbara laughs.

"What?" Dick asks.

"Watch your language." Bruce says.

You gain a soft smile because that sounds like Jason. He'd tell anyone off. He didn't give a fuck who they were. You wish you could have seen the look on Hatter's face. But the smile falls short as Bruce brings up the GCPD finding eight bodies, clearly the new guy that showed up at Molly's apartment. He asks if they know who the killer is and this is why you can't stand him.

He never fucking stops. Jason is barely in the ground and he just keeps fucking moving. At least you're looking for revenge and looking into someone who might be a threat to Molly. Bruce is just doing it because it's Bruce. Not because he actually cares about Jason or the people this guy is gonna hurt. And he has the audacity to call what's going on in Gotham a war. for the soul of the city. You almost walk away but Barbara starts talking and you always liked her.

"I don't know, Bruce. Calling it a war feels like trying to justify all the lives that've been lost."

"I don't know, Bruce. Calling it a war feels like trying to justify all the lives that've been lost."

"Your father and I knew protecting Gotham required real sacrifice."

You nearly scream. He doesn't fucking get it. Innocent people shouldn't have to be sacrificed for a city. That isn't justice and you want to sit down and question his morals right to his face. Innocent people being sacrificed by Bruce and the GCPD is fine, but killing people like the damn Joker isn't justice? The logic doesn't add up and it's like some sick-ass game Bruce is playing here. But with people's lives. Maybe he can't kill them because he's too similar to the bad guys he lets live.

"My father died from a heart attack after being frozen in a block of ice by a man wearing a fucking refrigerator suit." Venom seeps into Barabara's voice.

"Mr. Freeze." Bruce corrects and you nearly bang your head against the wall.

"I know who he is." Barbara snaps back and there's a pause for a few seconds. "That's how you see my father, isn't it? As a sacrifice? You dragged him into this insanity. Just like you did Dick and Jason. And now y/n."

"It was a long time ago." Dick finally chimes in and you want to know how Dick doesn't see that Bruce has manipulated him so damn bad it's almost Stockholm syndrome.

"You know what he did to you, Dick. You almost lost yourself because Bruce weaponized your grief." Barabara says. "And Jason? You took another kid who was lost and angry and alone and convinced him that he'd be invincible if he put on a mask. No more Robins, Bruce. I chose to put the cowl on to go out there as Batgirl when the Joker shot me. That wasn't your fault. But you drove Dick away."

"We worked it out." Dick defends Bruce again.

You roll your eyes and you want to put him under a microscope and figure out exactly why he defends him so much. Apparently, his loyalty is deep but Bruce keeps Dick in the dark. And you know a little secret that might change that. Dick warned you about Bruce. You know he doesn't fully forgive him or trust him. And you're going to make sure it stays that way. You're all sacrifices to the city anyway, right?

"Whether you've forgiven him or not, he drove you away. And he put Jason in the ground. You would think that after everything that the Joker's done to so many people you would have found a way to keep him locked up. But part of me, a big part of me, believes that you want him to escape. So, you can keep hiding from yourself behind that mask. You're as crazy as the fucking Joker." Barbara spits and you smile. She's right and someone should have said it a long time ago.

The room falls silent and you think now is a good time to make yourself known. You agree with Barabra but there are some things you have to say and some things they need to hear, too.

"It's true." Your voice is groggy and cracked as you stand in the doorway, the entire room putting their eyes on you. "Babs is right." You glance to her and offer a nod.

"You're up." Dick's face softens.

"Yeah, heard you guys laughing. Heard the Hatter story. But, let's not get our hopes up here, Dickolas. She's fucking right, it's your fucking fault Jason's dead." You turn your attention to Bruce. "I told you."

"What do you mean you told him?" Dick questions, looking between the two of you.

"I told him Joker was gonna kill someone he cared about eventually, you or Jason and he didn't listen. He never fucking listens." You scoff with the shake of your head as you tug the sleeves of Jason's hoodie over your hands. "I told you, all you had to was let him be fucking Robin or get it through his head that you love him and all you did was fucking fail in both departments." You let out a heavy breath as you lock eyes with Bruce. "And you just...pinned him and Dick against each other so he never fucking felt good enough and anyone willing to actually listen to him for five minutes could figure that out but you just...don't fucking listen. Had you just let him be Robin or been fucking better, he'd be alive!" You let out an exasperated yell.

To be fair, you've been wanting to tell Bruce off for months. You know all of the weird ass training he put Jason and Dick through. Between the cabin and the contract about not letting fear in or whatever, it's insanity. The two of them might have been partially raised by Bruce but from where you're standing, Bruce viewed them as weapons of his own molding. It's wrong even if that was never his intention and all that training was supposed to be to keep them safe. It's still wrong.

"That's not fair." Dick states firmly.

"No, you wanna know what's not fair? The fact I lost my mom because of Bruce. And I just lost my favorite person in the entire world because of him. He was it for me, Dick." You grit your teeth as tears brim your eyes. "So, I don't care!" You turn your attention back to Bruce."You got him fucking killed! Remember what I told you? The guilt eating you alive yet?" You snarl at him as your voice cracks.

"I am sorry for your loss of your mother. I tried talking with Jason--" Bruce starts.

"I don't wanna hear it. Fuck you. I don't care!" You yells at him as your voice cracks. "It wasn't fucking good enough. You might not have taken the crowbar to his face but you might well have." Tears leak from your eyes as you wipe them quickly. "How dare you sit in here and laugh with them over Jason, a kid you never fucking bothered to understand or actually protect. Fuck you, Bruce." You shake your head and you turn to Dick. Your loyalty was always with Jason, not Bruce. "Hey, Dick, you say you forgive him, right? Why don't you go check the Batcomputer and let me know if you still do? You're really gonna wanna see what he's got planned." You taunt.

"What's on the Batcomputer?" Dick looks to Bruce with suspicion. His stomach flips and a part of him actually doesn't want to know. He knows it's not going to be anything good and he really thought, just maybe, things would be a little different. 

"It's nothing." Bruce states. "I understand this is difficult. It is difficult for all of us—"

"It was not hard for you to order the autopsy. For what? He was beaten to death. We all know how he died. You had no fucking problem burying him without his fucking friends being here. His family. All you care about is yourself and covering this shit up so you can move onto the next fucked up kid you can weaponize all over again."

Dick says your name sternly, trying to get you to backtrack to the Batcomputer. "What are you talking about?"

"Pictures of kids, profiles on them. Street kids, that's the nothing Bruce is talking about." You explain as you look between Babarara and Bruce. You might have went digging on the Batcomputer, expecting Bruce to be looking for a new Robin. "Should I tell Dick and Babs what you asked me the day of the bullshit funeral you tried to throw?"

"What did you do?" Barbara asks Bruce, her voice annoyed and protective.

"He asked me if I wanted to be Robin, to honor Jason." You roll your eyes as you let out a cold and bitter laugh. "You never gave a shit about him. You aren't even grieving him. Someone who's grieving doesn't go recruit more kids to fill the role that got another one killed. It fucked up Dick. You killed Jason. What's fucking next?" You look to Dick. "You warned me about him. So, don't sit here and pretend like all's forgiven. You knew he was dangerous. To some extent otherwise, you wouldn't have warned me. Every time he asked me for something, I remembered what you told me and I said no. I won't end up like you and Jason. I am not one of his sidekicks. I am my own fucking person. I didn't get to pick my powers but I get to pick what I do with them. Because of you. Don't pretend like you actually think he changed."

"I'm sorry, what the hell has been going on here?" Barbara looks to Bruce.

"I think it's time we stop pretending like Batman's ways are the only good ones because they don't fucking work. Batman has helped the city, sure, but uh, he's also caused it a lot of harm. And now you've taken my favorite people. So, fuck you and fuck your morals. Babs is right. Fuck you. I'm going back to bed." You turn around before looking back to Dick. "I'm serious, check the Batcomputer." You look to Bruce. "My loyalty was always with Jason. It was never with you. That is the only reason I went by your rules and that's why I'll tell Dick everything. I don't have to protect Jason by protecting you anymore. You were his hero. But you were never mine. I hope that guilt eats you alive like it is for me." You state before walking off, the room confused in silence.

You head back to your room and lay back on the bed. You hate that your eyes start burning as the lump becomes so large you can't even swallow. It's not fair. Everything sets you off. You want to stop crying and shaking. You hate the nausea that comes with it and you miss him so fucking much.

Your hand grips the necklace tight as if the pure strength of your fist can bring him back. Every single second is agonizing. All you wants is for him to walk through those doors again and greet you with some lame pet name. You'll take Acid Fingers at this point. None of it matters anymore.

You close your eyes and you see either his face brutalized or that grin he'd give you right before he had a bad idea you'd follow without even thinking. His canines were always a little pointy and looked like fangs in the right light. Somehow it always suited him. And you miss him.

You remember your first night in Gotham that feels like ages ago. And how it felt to be back with him. The void in your heart, the one you didn't even know was there, was suddenly not so hollowed anymore. You touched the bruise on his face and you thought maybe he'd explode from the contact. You always wondered if maybe he could hear your heart whenever you did something like that. It was always the only sound you could hear. He made you so nervous and happy. A part of you thought, maybe, you weren't meant to be happy in love. You always ran from it anyway but Jason made it so easy. He always made it easy to love him even when it was hard. And you don't know how you're supposed to just...cope. To live every day and never hear his laugh and see that grin again. Or hear his voice. You don't even have a voicemail from him. You want him back.

The next morning, Dick walks into your room. He stands in the doorway and he hates he's even the one to have to break this news. But, someone has to and it needs to be him. And you have to be the first person he tells. Bruce, apparently, took all of the arguments a little too close to heart last night.

"Are you awake?" Dick asks.

You stick your arm up and wave at him haphazardly, not wanting to talk. You're still coming down from last night. Gar came in after, he heard the arguing, and checked on you. But, even trying to talk to him didn't really help. Nothing really helps.

Grief is exhausting. It consumes every part of you. Every muscle, every emotion. Every piece of you is just consumed. It's like a radioactive explosion. No part of you is safe from the agony. And no one around you is safe from the grief that leaks from your pores.

"I need to tell you something." Dick keeps his voice steady and stern.

You turn slowly, peeking an eye at him but not saying anything. You think it'll be something dumb. Something to try and get you to get up again, but not argue or fight with Bruce. Maybe Bruce had a moment last night where he finally snapped and actually cried over it. You don't know and you don't care, but you're listening.

"Bruce broke into Arkham last night and killed the Joker." Dick gets it out in a single breath, anticipating you to blow up. "And then he took off."

Your eyes narrow at him as your jaw squares. If this is Dick's big idea of a joke, he really needs a comedy lesson because that's not funny. But, he has his hands in his front pockets and his jaw is squared, he always does that when he's being serious about something. And that grief that just felt like numbness and agony, is liquified into anger.

You sit up slowly. "He what?"

"Yeah." Dick states with the quick raise of his brows. "He dropped a crowbar on my floor last night."

If it were anyone else, you would probably find it in yourself to actually laugh at the use of a crowbar. It's what he deserves but that's brutal. But, this is Bruce. The one who's been saying the Joker has to stay alive. Now, suddenly, he's gone off and killed him? With a crowbar?

"He killed the Joker?"

"Yeah." Dick nods his head.

That's your last straw here. You had a plan. You were planning to kill him yourself and somehow Mr. Morality himself beat you to fucking punch? How did that even happen? The one time you actually put a plan together and Bruce gets there first? How is that even fair?! You're so sick of this shit.

"Get the fuck out." You snap, shaking your head with gritted teeth.

"Look, I know--"

"No, get the fuck out of my room." You point at the door. "That's bullshit. Get out. He should have been mine!"

Dick hangs his head for a second and he's not even sure how he's supposed to feel about it. He'd be lying if he weren't also planning his own revenge on the Joker. Him and Jason had their issues but he is also tired of the Joker getting to hurt people he cares about. He sat by Babara's hospital bed after the Joker shot her and he swears it was the darkest day of his life since his parents died. Then Jason. Killing is wrong, but the Joker needed to be stopped. Dick wanted revenge, too. But, maybe a part of him is a little hurt because he doesn't think Bruce would have done that for him.

Then, there's the other part, knowing you were ready to go in yourself and take care of him. Which makes him a little relieved Bruce beat you to it. You've never fought the Joker. Dick isn't sure you would have made it out. They'd be burying another body.

"The Titans will be here in a few hours. But, I wanted you to be the first to know." Dick states. "I thought you deserved that." Dick lets out a breath. "And you were right about the kids. You were right."

You pause for just a second because Dick does not like to admit he's wrong often. But he is now. You knew you were right but something is a little bit nice hearing it anyway. And from Dick. But, that does not make you any less angry at the world or at Bruce.

"Yeah, I fucking know and so were you. Too bad Jason didn't see it." Your voice softens just a little and you regret not voicing your concerns about Bruce and Robin to him. It probably wouldn't have done anything but cause a fight, but you should have tried.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me, too." You shake your head. "Now get out." You lay back down and roll over.

You're going with Plan B.

The agony of grief is turning into boiling rage. How dare Bruce think he gets the right to just kill the Joker now. Of all fucking times. Now he's going to toss his morals aside and kill him? It's a little too fucking late for that. That should have been your job but he went and did it anyway. You're fucking sick of this. So, you change your plan and if you're gonna be mad, you're gonna use it.

You grab the tablet off the nightstand and get up. You grab a notebook from your bookshelf with a marker and sit right in the center of your floor. There are plenty more horrible people that roam the streets of Gotham and you're going after every single one of them. You write down what you deem to be the worst of the worst behaviors and go from there. 

This was always going to be the plan if you made it out of Arkham after killing the Joker. You were always going to go after these people. It's just being sped up a little bit and you aren't going to waste a lot of time planning this time around. Instead, you do research through the tablet and find who you can that were confirmed to be working with the Joker and/or working with Pete Hawkins and then you run over their rap sheets and backgrounds.

You remember you and Jason talking about what you'd both do after Robin. After Bruce. You'd hunt down these people yourselves because they're always the ones that get pushed to the side. They get to escape Batman, they don't make it to the radar. Well, now they are. Molly was always right. Batman protects the rich so you're going to protect the ones Batman doesn't. You're going to make sure none of these victims and potential victims end up like you or Jason or Molly or Diego or any of the others. Bruce's morals were never yours.

You finish your research a few hours later before you head to the Batcave, ignoring the laughter coming from the kitchen. You look at Jason's suit that still has traces of blood over it. Your heart sinks to your stomach and your eyes start to burn. You chew the inside of your cheek before taking in a deep breath. It's not fucking fair but you're gonna level the playing field. Someone has to. Not another person.

Bruce offered you Robin as a way to honor him and that's not honorable. But, you want to send the message. So, you walk over to the case with your suit and open it. You get dressed before you head over to the weapons where you grab the extra R blades that usually go into the Robin suit. You stuff them in your utility belt. You are not knives but they'll do the job just fine. Jason always made sure they were sharp.

The kitchen is filled with Titans, all of them snapping their attention to you as you walk in, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You don't say a single word as you keep your stare in front of you as you walk over to the cabinet where Jason always kept the protein bars. You pluck a few from the cabinet and stick them in your utility belt.

"You're up." Dick finally states with caution. "And going out?" Dick eyes you in the suit.

"Got shit to do." You mutter, slamming the cabinet door.

"You should probably eat something....more filling." Gar chimes in. "Especially if you're going on patrol." Gar keeps his voice hopeful.

You roll your eyes as you walk over to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. The other Titans watch you carefully, glancing to Dick to find out what they're supposed to do in all of this. You didn't talk to Dawn or Hank and neither did Jason. They know what was posted to social media and whatever Gar, Dick, and Kory would tell them. But, they're growing a little more concerned about what they missed in these few months.

"Let me fucking be." You snip. "That's what the protein bars are for." Sarcasm fills the room like toxic venom.

Hank blocks the exit. "Heard you haven't been eating or doing anything. You're eating before you leave."

Of all the people, you do not want to deal with Hank. You can let a grudge for yourself go but for people you love? Absolutely not. Jason can forgive him all the fuck he wants, but you do not. And you will take him out first if that's how this is going to be.

You grit your teeth. "Get the fuck out my way."

Hank crosses his arms. "Not a chance, kid."

"We're worried about you." Dawn's voice is soft.

"I don't fucking care." You snip, looking back at her. 

"Why don't you come sit down?" Kory asks. "Take a breath."

It's not Kory's fault. None of this. She has been nothing but nice to you and Jason. But, she's on their side, not yours.

"I have had enough taking breaths. I need to get some shit done and I am going to do it whether any of you like it or not." You look back at Kory with the shrug of your shoulders. "I'm tired of this shit hurting so I'm...going out."

Gar's worried about you. He's always worried. But, you going out even if it's just to patrol seems like a really bad idea right now. He's terrified you're going to do something reckless and they'll be burying you, too. He can't lose someone else.

"It hurts us, too." Gar says quietly.

You know. You know it hurts them all. But, you were closest to him. You were there. You missed it. You were the one that found him and had to look at him like that. You were the one that wasn't fast enough to save him. Or strong enough. Or careful enough. Jason made you rethink everything you have ever known and for the first time in your life, you weren't fucking afraid of staying. He changed every part of you and it hurts. He's gone and it's your fault and it hurts.

You grit your teeth and feel your eyes start to water. "But it hurts me the most, Gar!" You spin to look at him. "You. Weren't. Here! He meant everything to me." Your voice cracks with desperation."I close my eyes and I see his body. I--" You stop yourself, feeling everyone stare at you, the tension in the room making the place feel a rainforest. "None of you get it." Your voice cracks with defeat. "Leave me alone. I'll be fucking fine." You suck in a harsh breath, hardening your face as you look up to Hank. "Get the fuck out of my way."

Hank looks to Dick and Dick shakes his head. He let Jason down. No matter what Dick believes really happened, it was his job to protect Jason and teach, Jason. He let him down and he won't let you down. Not again. He won't lose another person.

"Not happening."

"Get the fuck out of my way or I'll melt your face off." You hold out your free hand, it glowing in response.

"You won't fucking dare." Hank glares down at you. "I'll take you out, kid."

You stand your ground. "I'm not scared of you. I'm not fucking afraid of anything."

"I'll go with you." Gar finally chimes in, tired of the back and forth.

He's a little worried you might actually try to fight Hank at this point. He knows none of them are going to be able to stop you unless with force. He, for one, does not want to see that happen and what will be the aftermath of that. He doesn't want to help with it either. It's not right. So, he'll just go with and make sure you don't do anything too insane.

"No." You're stern as you look over your shoulder at Gar.

"You take Gar or you're not going." Dick states.

He doesn't want you to leave but he also knows holding you here won't do any of you any good. At least with Gar, Dick knows you wouldn't do anything to endanger him. Gar is always the voice of reason and maybe the two of you alone, Gar can talk some sense into you.

"I don't need a fucking babysitter, Dickolas."

"We don't want you to get yourself killed." Gar states.

"The world has never been so kind to me." Your words are broken as you look to the floor. You shake your head and you want to save your remaining energy for your list so you cave. "Fucking fine." You spin around, Gar jumping up from his seat. "But, you don't get to protest what I'm doing and I assure you, you will not like it."

"What are you going to do?" Dick asks.

"Doesn't matter. There's a new crime lord in town, you have your hands a little full with Bruce out of the picture. He's killed eight people and counting, taking over the drug traffickers right now."

"All the more reason for you not to go out." Dick states.

"I'm not in the crime business in case you haven't noticed, Dickolas. " You let out a scoff. "So, I'm fucking leaving and doing my own shit." You turn back to Hank. "I won't piss off a wanna-be Penguin."

"Make sure she doesn't get herself killed or kills anyone else in the process." Dick warns Gar quietly and he nods.

"Move." You groan up at Hank who reluctantly moves when Gar approaches.

Hank moves allowing you both to pass by, Gar hot on your heels as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. You head outside where your bike is parked and you pop on your helmet. You're running through your plan in your head, trying to figure out how you're going to manage with Gar around.

Gar is not going to like it and then you'll have to listen to him. But, if there's one thing you've gotten good at the last few days, it's tuning people out. So, you could tune him out. You could also just have him wait outside if this is an indoor thing. You don't want him involved. This is your thing. It doesn't need to be on Gar's hands.

"Are you going to tell me what your plan is?" Gar asks as he stands to the side of the bike.

"Nope." You state. "Dick's bike is over there with a helmet, grab it and get on so we can go." You state coldly.

"I think you should tell me the plan first." Gar's voice is hesitant.

"We're literally outside right now and I can just take off. I can lose Dick before you go inside to get him and tell him you already lost me. So, either get the helmet and let's go, or I'm going to leave."

Gar lets out a defeated sigh as you get on the bike. He rushes over to Dick's bike and grabs the helmet.

"You're...you're not gonna...kill anyone are you?" Gar questions as he walks back over.

"I told you, you're not gonna like it so you can either stay here or let me do my shit by myself. You'll have to fight me to stop me and we know I'll win. So it's your decision." You shrug.

Gar lets out a sigh, hoping he'll be able to talk you out of this. He gets on the bike and puts the helmet on before he holds onto you. You shake your head, sliding down your face shield before you take off. You head to a hideout that one of the men has been using.

You look at the abandoned building and roll your eyes. According to your few hours of research, he wasn't working with anyone closely besides the Joker but he's dead now. So, you figure this can't go terribly wrong and even if does, that would be fine.

"Stay." You state as you put your helmet on the bike.

"I'm coming—" Gar follows you.

You stop dead in your tracks, Gar bumping right into you. You spin around. "Gar, stay. I don't want you involved."

There's a fire in your eyes Gar hasn't seen before and he really doesn't want you to go in there alone. Nothing good is going to come from it.

"You're my best friend. I don't want you to do something you'll regret." Gar's voice is sympathetic.

"I won't regret this. Stay here." You shake your head and spin back around, hoping he'll actually listen to you.

Gar stays behind as he watches you head to the back of the building. Gar debates his loyalty. On the one hand, he knows he'll have to fight you and he doesn't want to do that. You're right, you'll win. He'll lose anyway. And you're his friend, he never wants to fight his friends. All it will do is cause more tension and you're in the middle of grieving your favorite person. That just doesn't seem right. But, Dick told him to make sure you don't get hurt or get someone killed. So, after just a few minutes of debating, he follows you with reluctance.

Gar rushes inside and by the time he gets inside, you're already throwing the R blades, the man pinned on the floor. He never stood a chance. You have a blade in his leg, in his arm, and in his abdomen.

"Please! I'll tell you whatever you want to do know!" The man begs as you stand over him.

"I don't want to know anything." You state, your hands glowing as you shrug down at him. You run over the list in your head, reminding yourself of every terrible, horrible, irredeemable thing he's done.

"I-I know where the Red Hood is!" The man panics and your eyes narrow.

This guy was working with the Joker so was Pete Hawkins. Red Hood killed Pete Hawkins, that makes sense. But, you find it odd anyway to mention it as he begs for his life. You're not here for the new guy. And you almost ask him why he thinks you are but that would mean offering him time and that's not what this is about.

"I don't care." You roll your eyes. "This has nothing to do with him. This is for every kid you turned to the freak ass clown." You stick your hand to his face as his skin starts to melt.

"Stop!" Gar yells, coming up behind you and yanking you away, the man screaming in agony as he rolls on the ground.

"Get the fuck off of me!" You wiggle in his grip, getting free. "Get the fuck out of here!"

"You're not gonna do this! We don't do this!" Gar gestures his arm at the man.

"I'm not a fucking we! I do what I want!" You scream back, shooting a blast of acid at the man as his screams die down. "See? All done."

You walk past Gar as Gar looks at the damage that's been done. He walks over, checking the man's pulse only for there to be nothing left. He just watched you kill someone in under ten minutes. This is bad. He has to snap you out of this. It's not going to bring Jason back. Nothing can bring him back and you need to find a way to deal with it that doesn't involve killing people.

"You can't do this!" Gar yells, you keeping your back to him as you reach the bike. "You can't kill people because you miss Jason! That's not gonna bring him back!"

He can't let you keep doing this. If this is your plan, some sort of revenge filled with grief, that's not you. He knows you, too and he swears it's not. You're the one who always said you weren't violent. It sucks and it hurts. It's always going to hurt, he knows that, but this isn't going to make the pain any less for you.

You look down and let out a hollowed, venom-filled chuckle. It's never going to be about missing him and that's the thing. He'll never get it. But, it's like this void has opened up in your chest, right where your heart used to be. A black hole, sucking everything inside of it but never being full. It's just a vast of nothingness and it's not about missing him.

"I'm not doing it because I miss him! Fuck." You scream, spinning around with your helmet in your hand. "I'm doing this for me and for Jason and for Dick and Molly and Diego and every other fucking kid that Bruce fucked over and the system fucked over because Bruce said that's fucking justice!"

"And do you think this," Gar gestures around him to the building. "Is justice?!"

"It's better than fucking nothing, Gar!" You let out a harsh breath. "We're the people left behind to suffer at the hands of people with bad intentions! Because we have no other choices! I'm doing this for all of us! I'm doing this for the life Jason should have had! For the life he deserved to have but never got the fucking chance because of bullshit circumstances! Just like me and Molly and Dick and Diego and all the others! So, you can either shut the fuck up and get the fuck on board, or try to fucking stop me."

Gar shakes his head and it's like he's losing you, too. Donna, Jason, and you. This is going to get you killed. You're going to go after the wrong person and it'll be the end. And this isn't you. You're mad and in the middle of grief. Grief is messy, it explodes and it always touches more than just the people in the thick of it. He can't just let you do this and end up regretting it.

"We don't kill people." Gar's voice is soft this time and for a split second, you actually feel bad. He wasn't even supposed to be involved but Dick insists on a babysitter. "And I-I don't want to fight you."

"I'm not a we anymore." You shake your head and shrug your shoulders. Your voice is etched with pain and it breaks Gar's heart all over again.

Your teeth grit and it's so painful, it's almost numbing to everything. Every day, it's hard and it isn't getting easier. And maybe you think you deserve the pain and numbness from all of it. If anyone should have known Jason was up to something, it should have been you. You put all of this blame on Bruce, but it eats at you, too. You both missed it. Everyone missed it. And the one fucking time he needed you to see it, you missed it and it got him killed.

"I don't want to fight you either but I will if you try to stop me and we both know I'll win." You suck in a breath knowing Gar wouldn't have it in him to actually stop you.

And maybe you're hoping it's a false sense of confidence. Maybe you think you deserve to fight him, have him not on your side anymore. Maybe you don't deserve it anymore.

You turn back around and get on the bike before putting your helmet on. It's not going to bring him back, you know. And it's not going to make you feel better. But, it's better than letting someone else go through what you and every other kid has so far. This city eats people alive. It takes and takes and takes and that is all it has ever done. You're tired of it. You're willing to live with the guilt of blood on your hands if it'll help even a few kids who've been left in the cold. Maybe you deserve it anyway.

"Dick is gonna be pissed." Gar sucks in a breath as he takes a few steps towards you.

"Kory kills people sometimes. Rose killed Deathstroke. I killed people from CADMUS when they attacked the tower. You killed someone once. Mr. Moral Highground himself just fucking killed the Joker. Why is it such a big fucking deal right now? Why is it so fucking bad right now?" Your voice is almost defeated.

Honestly, you wonder how it's always Gar caught in the crossfire. Maybe it's just because he's too empathetic, always seeing the good in everyone. It's still something you admire. But, he can't stop you and you desperately wish, he'd just understand.

"Because this isn't you." Gar's brows furrow as he stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets.

You look down and clear your throat, feeling the guilt start to eat at your chest. You're not sure what the guilt is though. The guy you just killed or for making Gar give you that look that screams desperation and disappointment.

"Maybe it always should have been though." You shake your head. "You know, he was bad, right?" You ask. "Like, working with the Joker. Joker had a few guys trafficking kids. Was gonna go after one, Pete Hawkins, but uh, Red Hood beat me to the punch so, next best I guess. So, he wasn't just some guy doing something bad." You explain.

"That doesn't make it better." Gar states. "Maybe we could have helped him get out of that."

"Nope, rap sheet five pages long." You suck in a harsh breath. "Okay, where do you stand on Bruce killing the Joker?"

"I-I...I mean..." Gar thinks killing is wrong, but...the Joker was always the worst of the worst. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do. I think you don't like it but you're not gonna go and tell fucking Batman off for doing it. I think a part of you, might actually understand it." You gesture a hand towards him. "I'm not asking you to agree with me, Gar. I can't ask that of you. But I am asking you to just understand. You didn't grow up here and see this shit, okay?"

"I don't want you to kill people and I don't want you to regret this when it does get better. I know you don't want to hear that but it will."

"We talked about it, ya know?" You ask. "What we'd do after Robin and Batman. Team up and go after these guys. These guys rarely make it to Bruce's radar. It's not fair. Most of us aren't rich but that doesn't mean we're a sacrifice. That's what Bruce called us last night. What he called Jim Gordon, his fucking friend. A sacrifice. I'm tired of innocent people being a sacrifice for a city and for rich fucks that don't actually give a fuck about them unless the press is taking pictures and writing articles about how good they are. We did not say we'd kill anyone, but..." You shrug. "In and out of Blackgate and they learn nothing. Something permanent has to be done. So, I'm not gonna regret it."

He does not agree. There always has to be another way. If they all just started killing people because they think they're bad, how can that be justice? How can that be better than what's already going on? But, Gar can't argue it not without going round and round in circles. And he's never said anything about Kory or Rachel killing anyone. So, he decides, maybe he can try a little bit to understand even if he thinks he won't be able to.

"I'm not killing just anyone, I promise. I have a plan."

"That's not reassuring." Gar states.

"I know." You nod. "But, I promise. I know but can you offer me a little understanding, please? As my friend."

You're done arguing. Your throat hurts and your chest hurts. A headache is pecking at the back of your head, it's just exhausting arguing. Everything is exhausting lately.

Gar moves forward and takes the helmet. "Dick is gonna kill you."

"Eh, he'll bitch about it for a while and then get over it because I'm grieving." You roll your eyes. "Make him a hypocrite if he did something about it."

"Not funny." Gar scolds as he gets on the back.

"Wasn't a joke." You quip. "Hold on."

You spend the day not killing people but by tormenting some of the guys on your list. You beat them up and taunt them, threaten them and scare them. Gar still isn't happy with excessive force but it is better than you killing them. He wonders why you even killed the first guy. But a part of him is a little afraid to even ask. Knowing you, you do have a reason for it. And he doesn't want to give you the bright idea to kill all of them.

Your last stop is Jerry's old house. You hate how your hands shake and the lump in your throat grows. It's more now. It's more than the torture that lingers in your bones because with his house also comes the memories of Jason.

That night was the night you knew something was going on with you. You remember that moment in the bathroom where Dick interrupted you and how your heart was thundering so loud you swore it'd wake up the whole tower. You remember how good it felt and thrilling and the look on his face. That was the night he read to you. This is not that house but it reminds you of that night anyway. This house brought back all of your nightmares. You can't kill Jerry right now, but you can do something about the house. He'll, hopefully, get word of it and know you'll come for him one day. The house is the start.

You suck up your fear and memories as you close the distance and shoot acid on the side panel of the house before pulling out a match. Gar stands right beside you and he knows the house. He remembers it when him and Jason looked into you.

"What are you doing?" Gar asks.

"Burning it down." You state as you light the match, tossing it onto the acid, watching the flames burn. "Suit? Flame retardant. Acid? Flammable." You walk around the other side and repeat the same thing until the house is engulfed in flames. "Tested it out last night, just to make sure." You watch the flames and Gar isn't sure how to feel about it. At least no one was inside, you checked, and this is your business. This is your thing. You're not hurting anyone at least. "Gonna lecture me about vandalism?" You look over at him.

"No." Gar shakes his head. "I'm definitely calling the fire department though." Gar sucks in a breath, the fire warming his face a little too much for his comfort.

"Can you give it a minute? Just to make sure there's no saving it." You look at him. "We can stay and watch it burn, make sure it doesn't get too out of control and no one gets hurt."

"Okay." Gar agrees as you move to stand by the bike and watch the house burn. "Does this help?"

"Yeah." You nod your head. "He's not getting life, ya know? Jason, uh, he kept a file on him. He kept tabs so I wouldn't have to." You shake your head. "But, he got a lot of time but he can still come back and pick it up again. At least he'd need a new house and I'll see him coming. Not another kid."

"It is more than Jason." Gar nods his head with a sense of understanding.

"Yeah," You nod, your eyes trained on the house. "He's just the last straw for me. I think he'd find it funny and then ask why I didn't take a flame thrower."

"Flame thrower?" Gar questions. "Why the hell would you have a flame thrower?"

"Molly and me were walking and we hit this house. I don't know how I missed it. But, I did. And uh, I had a panic attack so bad I just...broke right on the side of the road. It was like I was back in San Francisco, in the basement all over again. Molly called Jason and he sat in front of me and snapped me out of it. Then he asked if I wanted to burn it down. He could get a flame thrower from the Batcave and we're both flame retardant." You laugh softly as your eyes burn.

"Oh, so he gave you this bright idea." Gar lets out a soft chuckle. It definitely sounds like something Jason would have said to make you feel better.

"He had some good ideas on occasion." You laugh softly as you hear sirens coming. "Well, someone beat ya to it. Let's head out." You let out a sigh as you grab your helmet and hand the other to Gar. "Thanks for not stopping me." You nod. "I'll tell Dick you tried."

"It's okay." Gar nods as he takes the helmet. "No one got hurt...here." Gar sucks in a breath.

The two of you get on the bike and head back to the manor. Gar reports to Dick when you get back. For a second, he debates even telling him what happened. Some part of him wants to understand because you're his friend. He believes you think you're doing what's right but it's hard for him to understand even though he doesn't give Kory a hard time. He didn't give Rachel a hard time when she killed people. But, Dick is looking at him expectantly and he can't lie to him. So, he tells Dick what happened.

Dick finds you in the Batcave later that night, deciding he'd like to have the conversation without the other Titans around. Dick swears this is the grief talking and the other Titans don't need to be involved. You're right, they have bigger problems right now. Their focus should be there, especially given the events that happened today. He can handle you.

"Do you feel better?" Dick questions as he paces in front of you with his arms crossed.

"Well, I guess that depends on your definition of feeling better." You shrug your shoulders as you exit out of your screens on the Batcomputer.

"Are you serious right now?" Dick fumes.

"Pretty much." You answer simply.

If Gar can't get you to go back on your plan, Dick definitely can't. He's giving you that disappointed look that makes you almost groan. You're not in the mood for not only a lecture from him but another lecture about how you don't kill people.

"We don't kill people."

You almost laugh at the irony. "I'm not a we anymore in case you missed the memo." You snark. "I'd like to go to bed though. If you don't mind." You get up from your spot but Dick steps in front of you to stop you.

"We aren't done here. I know. I know how hard this is for you. But I promise, you will regret this." Dick tries to reason with you.

"I don't think so. We're different people. I don't feel all too bad about it." You lie. You feel a little bad about it. You're not a monster. "I'm going to bed unless you have anything else you want to say." You let out a breath as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Yeah, I have more to say. You're not going out alone anymore. You're taking Gar with you and you're not going to keep killing people. That's not what Titans do and that's not what you do."

"So, Gar is my babysitter? Gar tried and I still killed the guy today. Do you think that's gonna stop me?"

"Yes. You'll start to feel bad for making Gar stick around."

You narrow your eyes at him and he makes a good enough point. But, you're still pretty sure you'll keep up with your plan. You'll just find a way around Gar.

"Anything else or?"

Dick lets out a sigh and of course there's more. His first night, he went into Jason's room and found a formula. But, you've been either screaming, sobbing, or catatonic the last few days and he hasn't had much of a chance to ask anything.

"Okay, look, I need your help."

You let out a laugh. "I can't kill people and now you need my help." You roll your eyes. "With what?"

"Jason was making a drug, what do you know?" Dick cuts to the chase.

You shake your head in disbelief. Why the fuck would Jason be making a drug? Does Dick really have so little faith in him? You're actually offended Dick would think he was making a drug. It's one of the most insane things you've ever heard and you live with Bruce Wayne.

"Wow, okay, yeah that's fucking rich. He was not making a drug, Dickolas." You scoff.

"Look, I found this formula in his room." Dick pulls the paper out of his pocket and hands it over.

You look at it but you've never seen it before and it's definitely Jason's handwriting. It's messy and still somehow legible. But that still doesn't make any sense. Jason wanted to target dealers and the cooks. You always assumed it was because of his mom and once people are hooked, they'd be more vulnerable to everything.

You hand it back. "I have no fucking idea." You let out a scoff and apparently, he was keeping a whole lot from you.

"Bullshit. You knew him better than anyone."

"Yeah, and I missed him going after the fucking Joker, too." You strike back. "I don't know. I've never fucking seen it, he never mentioned it probably because he knew I'd chew him out for it. I don't know." You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste iron. "Look, he's dead, it doesn't matter." The words are bitter on your tongue and they weigh heavy in your throat. But, it's true. You don't want to hear about it. He's dead, he's gone, it doesn't matter.

"I think it does." Dick protests. He doesn't understand how Jason was making a drug and somehow, no one knows anything about this. 

"Why? He's dead. He's gone. Shit isn't gonna bring him back." You brush past him, feeling the caving of your chest start again.

Dick calls your name as you look back at him. "There was something going on."

"Yeah, apparently so but I don't know shit. Wish I did though." You turn back around. The drug is going to eat at you and it'll eat at Dick. You're tired of things eating at you and today is bothering you but not for the killing. So, you change subject. "Hey, okay, uh, you guys actually going after the new guy?"

"We're putting together a case. He killed a woman today, a mother." Dick explains. "Do you know something?"

"No," You shake your head. "But, uh, that guy I killed today, thought I was looking for him. He's called the Red Hood, by the way. Just...thought it was fucking weird and thought you might wanna know. Molly said he showed up at her apartment with Diego Martinez, a missing kid she was looking for. Pete Hawkins trafficking kids to the Joker and he was one of them."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Instead of begging for his life, he told me he knew where the Red Hood was. I, uh, thought it was weird. I think he was lying and uh, I have no idea how he knew about Molly." You let out a scoff because that part is going to bother you until you get an answer.

"Why would go to your friend? Are you sure you don't know anything else about him?"

"I swear, I have no fucking idea. That's why I'm telling you. Shit is weird, even for Gotham. If I knew more, I'd tell you. Weird he'd kill a random woman but Molly said he just seemed intimidating. I asked more about it later and she said Diego was fine and the Red Hood was nice to him. So...again, weird."

Dick lets out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair. Of course, something can't be simple in Gotham. There always has to be something else going on and Dick agrees, this just seems weird. And it doesn't make any sense. What is his motive anyway?

"Well, good talk." You let out a sigh. "Just thought you'd like that information in case it was useful. I'm going to bed." You offer Dick a nod before you walk off and exit the Batcave, leaving Dick with a bigger headache.

The next day, the Titans are working on the Red Hood case, something about a chess play. Dick went to Jonathan Crane for help over it which he was not happy about. You choose not even to get involved with that one. You have your own thing you want to do anyway and maybe a part of you, doesn't entirely know how to feel about the Red Hood. He did save Diego and maybe others for all you know and he didn't hurt Molly when he could have. Though, he did kill an innocent woman. So, you're just not getting involved right now, instead you mind yourself to your room for most of the day.

But, then you get a call from someone, an unknown number.

"Meet me at the old gym." He says, his voice disguised by a voice modulator.

You pull the phone from your face, looking at it with confusion before you put it back to your ear. "Yeah, who the fuck are you and why the fuck would I do that?" You snark back.

"Meet me at 8 tonight."

"Why?" You question back.

"Just go to the roof. Eight O'clock." He says before the line goes dead.

You pull the phone from your head again and look at the dark screen. What are you even supposed to do with that? On the one hand, it would be really stupid to listen to a random voice from an unknown number. But, it's also weird enough that it makes you kind of want to go. You don't talk to anyone. The only people who even have your number are the Titans and Molly. A lot of weird shit is currently going on and you would like at least one answer. It might be really stupid, but you figure you'll go anyway and you'll just be prepared for it to go south.

Lucky for you, the Titans had some Red Hood business to take care of that involved all of them looking for possible victims. That gave you the perfect opportunity to leave right when you needed to without having to worry about ditching Gar along the way.

You get to the old gym and walk right in, almost no fear in your bones. You walk right through and into the pool area. The pool is gross, slimy. It looks like it hasn't been used in years, which it hasn't. And the smell of algae sticks to the walls, making you grimace behind your mask. So, you keep walking until you reach the stairs that lead to the roof.

Once on the roof, you walk over to the edge, resting your forearms on the ledge. Your stomach doesn't drop anymore. Anxiety doesn't flood your veins and you don't even feel the slightest bit dizzy. You think it's because of the grappling around the city. You had no choice but to get over your fear of heights. But you know that's not all of it. Fear doesn't follow you very much these days.

You feel someone walk up beside you a few minutes later, barely getting a glimpse of them out of the corner of your eyes.

"Who are you and what the hell do you want?" Your voice is flat as you keep your stare on the gloomy city below.

"Really did get over your fear of heights, huh?" The voice questions, a voice modulator changing it. He's a little surprised you came, honestly. But, it's you, of course you did. You hate unanswered questions and he knows that.

You look over to see the new so-called crime lord. He's wearing a red helmet, the eyes white and there's no mouth. He's got a black padded suit on with a red symbol right in the middle of his chest that looks like a play on the Batman symbol. And above his suit, he's wearing a red hoodie under a brown leather jacket. It's a look.

Red Hood.

New crime lord trying to take over Gotham and leaving no one in his wake that crossed his path. He's brutal and ruthless. But methodical, has a plan and is never caught off guard. Smart, quick, sharpshooter. And as you remember every horrible thing you've read, you nod once because you think this is finally it.

Finally, after all these years of suffering and misery, someone is gonna end it all for you. That has to be the reason you're standing here right now. Maybe that guy you killed was working for him. Cross his path in the wrong way, and he'll just kill you. You're so certain that's what it is and you almost feel relieved as you look back to the city.

"Yeah well." You state, bypassing how he'd even know you were afraid of heights in the first place. "If you're gonna kill me, can you just like do it already?" Your voice is so flat and emotionless, Jason freezes.

You've given up. You gave up on the fight the day he died. And he was worried about that. When the drug wears off, it comes back. Every piece of fear he's ever felt floods back over him and one of those fears is always you. How you're going to react to knowing he's alive, how you're going to react knowing he died, how you've been doing. He can see it in the way your eyes scan the city that you're done. And he hates himself for it.

"I'm not gonna kill you. Why would I kill you?" He asks and he's glad his voice is disguised.

"It's what you do." You chortle. "It's fine, really. I'm sure I crossed you or whatever. To be expected." You glance at him once more before you look back to the city. "Just, uh, take my phone and call Dickolas. Make sure he's the one that finds me because if you don't, that means my friend will and I really, really don't want him to deal with that. It fucking sucks." You nod as you roll your eyes. "Consider it my dying wish."

"Dramatic as always." Jason lets out a chuckle. "You know I'm not gonna fucking kill you because you got that combat thing." He says and he's buying time, trying to get the courage to tell you.

You pause, looking at him slowly. One person that knows referred to it that way. It was always Jason. He always said it was a combat thing. And the only people who even know are the Titans.

You look back to the city and you're about to rip his helmet off yourself. He gave the woman a paper with a chess move and a code. The code was Robin, he asked for Nightwing. That's what Gar said before he left tonight with the Titans. Red Hood knows where Molly lives, he has your phone number and clearly knows about the combat clairvoyance. There is one person who would know all of that and he's dead. So, this is getting a bit frustrating and concerning.

"Why are you acting like you know me?" You huff as you look back at him.

He's leaning with an elbow on the ledge, his weight shifted to his right leg. He's standing so casually and it's almost familiar but at this point, you think you're just fooling yourself. You can't do this.

"Yeah, I'm leaving." You push off the ledge and start to walk off but he grabs your arm gently.

You stop and look at his hand on your arm. He's wearing brown leather gloves that match his jacket. This feels familiar, too and you swear anything would feel familiar because you're desperate. It's just the desperation and the grief. But, it feels familiar and you hate it. 

"Wait." He says. "Don't go, alright?" He drops his hand and you let out a sigh, leaning back against the ledge.

"Fine." You let out a sigh and go back to looking at the city. "Can you just tell me what the fuck is going on, please?" You ask and Jason can hear the desperation in your voice. "I have had a shit fucking week and I just....would like to go back to bed." You let out a sigh another sigh. You're tired of the games.

Jason hangs his head and he knows you're going to lose it. You're going to be mad and he's going to have to deal with it. He really, desperately wishes he would have taken the drug before he walked up here. It'd definitely be nice right about now. But, he swore, if he was going to do this, he'd have to do it this way because you would figure it out. That's not the plan and at the end of day, he came back knowing he'd never involve you. You have to know and he wishes this were easier.

But, he takes off the helmet anyway.

"Please, don't be mad."

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A/n: I just wanna say thank you again to everyone who leaves a comment and/or reblogs. I go back and reread them all the time and it makes me really happy 😭 I'm really sorry if I don't always respond I just don't know what to say sometimes lmao or my chronic illness flares up and I just kind of...post and log off and I don't usually comment from Tumblr mobile lol So, I'm sorry if I don't respond but I promise it means so much to me 😭😭😭

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[lillyspeakz]

Ello its 🐿️! Sooo first of all I hope your day is going awesome! Second, uhh any possible hc’s /drabbles for Ghost Wilbur and Tommy during halloween? I know in Pagan culture it’s said that the barrier between our world and theirs is basically nonexistent during halloween/Samhain! Anyways have a lovely dayyyy!

Thank you darling, it’s been good so far! Also yes I do!

-

- Halloween is the one time in the year that the boys can go out and explore. Tom usually going to see what people are doing, observing. While Wilbur usually just walks around, hoping to get lost and lose the connection he has on the house, wanting to leave and be free.

- yet, you came along and turned his perspective around. He suddenly enjoyed Halloween and spending time with you, wanting to go everywhere with you. And let me tell you, y’all went everywhere

- from 12 in the morning to 11:59 at night, you were doing something. Watching the sunset, stargazing, going on a coffee shop date, shopping, etc. He helps you hand out candy to the littles that come up, the parents giving Wil a weird look, but not making further effort. He could care less! He’s with you and having the best time.

- now- you guys go on a late night walk around the town and it’s nice. But when y’all get home-

- man is making love to you under the moonlight…. It’s actually so cute I’m writing it rn and oml-

-Tom on the other hand is hanging out with Molly this year.

- he met molly a couple months ago, becoming friends with the girl as she would come into the backyard and explore the empty house. Wil did try to scare her but Tom refused.

- then you moved in and she couldn’t do that anymore, which the realization was devastating to Tom, sad all the time after.

- you knew about Molly, she was your neighbor and she was lovely! Yet you always would see her looking at the house, waving at something in the windows.

- finally you walked in on Tom looking out the window, smiling so hard as he waved at the women on the side walk.

“Hmm now I know why she’s always around..”

“What?! No no! I was just being- friendly.”

“Mhm.”

- you invite her over some times, knowing why she wants to be there. And the first time you can tell she’s looking around to see if she’ll see him, her body becoming restless in the chair she sat on.

“He’s upstairs in the room on the left.”

“W-what?”

“Tom. He’s upstairs. I bet he’s waiting for you..”

“I- how did you-“

“Tom isn’t very good at hiding things.”

“Yeah no! He’s not.”

- so now when she wants to come over you gave her a key so she can let herself in.

- Tom and her go out, they end up trick or treating and in the middle of a field in her, eating candy and talking.

- they do end up kissing a little bit… but nothing more, knowing they both weren’t ready for that. Though tom claimed he was a big man and could handle anything-

- so yes, the barrier breaks kinda on Halloween, letting spirits of all kind roam free- you can just see the two ghost men easier

[peefartress2]

part 1: lorena

an au where the pastel children's oddities are a bit more... extreme.

The thing is, Lorena knew that her friendship with Suzie wasn’t all like she made it out to be. There was a point in time where she really, really did believe that they were good friends. She looked past all rhyme or reason that would ever make her think they weren’t, and now she didn’t know why she ever thought Suzanna Winchester was on her side.

One question lingered in her mind: did she regret it, that half-baked excuse of a friendship? Every match that she cheered for her in? Their friendly battles? Her one-sided longing (?) for a friend like Suzie?

It sucked, thought Lorena as she rammed her fist into a punching bag, sweat beading at her forehead. (The gym was her private playground, the go-to place to work out in. No one thought to interrupt her training here.) It sucked because she wanted to hate Suzie so bad, for seeing her as a way to get to Lance, and she wanted to hate Lance for using her for power- because yeah, she understood the marriages in the first place were for their Kingdoms. But this felt different, it hurt, and it was why it hurt that she couldn’t understand. Maybe it was because of how genuine Lance was- or seemed. How much of that was real and how much of that was fake? And that just made her sad, which made her more angry, which made her so much more confused.

Tantrums from Lorena were common when she was a little princess. There would be no dessert left for 4 year old Lorena and she would get angry and violent, then thorns would form on her skin and Molly had to take care of all of it. Dear Molly, she was so steadfast and patient for dealing with all four Pastel Children as the King went on his missions. As well as Miss Agatha, who had helped nurture Lorena’s education, and was very familiar with young Lorena’s tear-stained face, red with frustration with a sheet of numbers that could only stare back at her. Miss Agatha decided she wouldn’t give Lorena worksheets anymore- it just didn’t work. And when things wouldn’t work, Lorena grew more rotten flowers that wouldn’t go away for days. A lot more made sense when Lorena was diagnosed with ADHD at 14 and she learned how to manage better. No one forget those legendary tantrums, however…

With Lorena’s ability to grow plants and flowers around her, it was sometimes that the flowers would grow inside her if her emotions went out of check. So the tantrums and the fits has to happen less. By the time she was age 15 Lorena was confident it wouldn’t happen again. But things growing on the surface of her body never happened before again… until now. 

That morning after the Gala. Lorena remembered getting home in a silent fury, a disbelief and a great, blazing white anger. How could it be that someone who you swore to protect would be the one who would end up hurting you? Lance. Prince Lance of the Plaid Kingdom. He’d told her the most he’d ever wanted was to see his loved ones succeed. Flash forward one proposal later. She and Maria held a shaking Gwendolyn in their arms, who shrunk into herself as she weeped. They all cried and were left wondering if their father had been right in his caution- for when one of them ached, they all ached together.

Some stupid part of her still saw Suzie as a friend. She wanted to trust her so bad, cause what other friends did she have after that whole thing with Lance? Maybe Suzie was right to point out the conflicts in their goals, because now the gravity of marriage really started to settle in for her. She was so close with going through with it too… she hadn’t even had her own 18th birthday party. Birthdays for the Pastel Kids weren’t big parties or anything, but they felt real special, even compared to the splendor of a Plaid Social Event that was Lance’s birthday party… the very party she met Suzie.

Man.

“Stupid…!” 

“Freakin…!”

“GAHHHH!” She’d hit a fierce jab after jaw-busting uppercut after killer right hook. The punching bag she practiced on seemed more exhausted than she was.

Lorena looked down at her hands and noticed they seemed to be rough and course. Her hands felt… angry, like they wanted to strangle and choke someone- and for a second, she was scared of herself. She needed to tell Molly or Miss Agatha or anyone, in fear that it may happen again. The moment she felt the fear of losing control, the quicker the thorns began to grow, and the rougher her skin became as they clumped up in different areas like tree bark.

Get out, get out, get out!!

The hallway doors burst open as Lorena dashed down the hall.

I want to run, she thought, and she commanded her feet to take her as far away as they could. She had no need for shoes, for the soles of her feet has become rough and coarse and green; like the tough material of tree bark.

Her feelings only grew.

[sailsinstorms]

Legacy of the Girls - Part 12

Let's continue reading, shall we?

Solar and Radley sleeping together seems to have been a big mistake. Neither of them seemed to like it and both were kind of embarrassed. I'm going to assume they were both just having a moment and felt a bit lonely? Especially since Solar has been on a bit of a ride trying to find someone, and Radley just beats people up before she can get to know them.

So Radley got up to leave for work, turned around, and saw Molly just standing there in the doorway. Well, that's awkward. I mean it is her room and she has every right to be there - but she just had to walk in then, didn't she.

Solar and Radley could have just kept it to themselves but I guess everyone is going to know now.

Molly: If I catch you in my room again for whatever reason, you're dead.

Since Molly is a non committal sim she's been feeling a little frustrated in her "relationship" with Hawea. They haven't been dating long, but Molly wanted to discuss her relationship fears with him.

Molly: I'm really not marriage material...

Well, Hawea just lost it. He was not having a bar of what Molly was saying. I think it's because one of Hawea's traits is that he's loyal. He was really upset by the whole situation.

Look at how sad he is (TT_TT) It's not like they broke up. Molly was just trying to communicate with you, Hawea. Perhaps they just need some time apart? Let's see what happens.

He was so angry he went to the back of the lot to do some fishing but was so worked up he couldn't even do that. He ended up stomping away in a fit.

Haha, Hawea is kinda of funny? I dunno, I just like him for some reason. Maybe because he kind of reminds me of Mad Max..

Solar invited Paka'a over for the evening. He's another boy with a very interesting name. The Sims Developers definitely know how to pick them.

Solar: Just to let you know, I'm so down for marriage.. if that's like a thing that's important to you... Paka'a: Good to know! Solar: Yeah, there was a huge fight on this porch this morning...

Thank God Solar finally has someone. Hopefully she'll be less depressed now.

The girls only ever take men upstairs if they're planning on getting naked under the sheets. It looks like Solar and Paka'a have hit it off really fast. He's actually a really sweet guy too.

Have fun you guys!

The problem with Winter being pregnant and really unhappy about it still exists. I don't know what to do. I'm torn. I kinda want a Winter baby running around the house, but I also don't want her to resent her kid because she had an unplanned pregnancy.

It's nice that Molly is trying to console her though. Molly might be dastardly, but she's a lot more caring than Radley seems to be when it comes to the girls.

Winter: You're the one who understand me best, Mya. What do you think I should do? The whole world seems to be out of control right now.

This is just a gentle reminder that Radley still exists and has been quietly working on her gardening skills. She didn't get much done in Winter, what with all the snow, so now she's really loving being back with the plants.

Loren's latest conquest is this man named Christian.

Haha, well done Loren <3

Paka'a: You know, Solar. You are my cup of tea <3 Solar: *immediately falls in love*

Molly: So Paka'a, what are your intentions with our Solar? We demand only the finest for our eldest sister. Radley: Aren't you a little young to be in a serious relationship? Paka'a: Haha..ha....I just have a baby face. You don't have to worry about me. I think Solar's amazing. I won't hurt her <3

I think Paka'a and Solar get along so well because they are both "Child of the Ocean" types.

Speaking of which, Solar is desperate to get back to the ocean.

I invited Marcel over to tell him about the baby and so Winter could talk to him about her insecurities around being pregnant. He seemed really excited about the kid. I mean he was married to someone else and had a family...so he knows all about kids and babies...

Winter: I'm thinking of giving it up for adoption, or donating it to science or something? Marcel: Uh...I mean I do want you to be happy, but...

During the middle of the night Winter woke up and needed to go to the hospital. I was panicked. I thought she might die.

It turns out the foetus wasn't viable and had to be aborted. Now Winter's reproductive system might be damaged. Wow, what a turn of events. I mean, Winter didn't want a child right now anyway - but she might want one in the future. Now she might not even have the option.

I'll have to figure out what to do about that too..

She came home from the hospital so skinny and sad (TT_TT) My poor baby...

While it might be a relief to not be pregnant, it's still a horrible ordeal to go through so the girls are giving her some love.

In the next update I'm thinking of taking the girls on holiday to Sulani. A lot's been going on, Solar wants to see the Ocean, and Winter needs a break I think. Some beach vibes might be good for everyone.

Previous | Archive | To be Continued...

[lottiebagley]

Family Reunions- George Weasley

Three years imagining a life together Love your family more than we loved each other I said I’d keep in touch and I did But the more we keep in touch, the more I miss him

The second she enters her small flat she can feel her entire world shatter around her. Leaning her back against the door as she sinks to the ground, head dropping into her hands as she wipes furiously at her eyes, trying to push the tears back in.

Once a week she had attended dinner at the burrow, it was nice, good to see Molly and Arthur and whichever kids were around, of course George was never there, the date marked in his calendar in a red pen reminder to not go home that day. To sleep and eat at the flat.

The family had been heartbroken to hear that he had broken up with his girlfriend, after the war he had committed all his time to helping Fred. His twin needed every last bit of his attention, helping with his physical therapy and his dwindling mental state and so George's relationship had taken a back seat. She hadn't minded, in fact she had understood, she even committed herself to helping too.

But a year after George decided to call things off, Fred was better, he was walking and he was happier and he was working again. It was the perfect time for him to focus on his relationship, after all the girl had proven herself time and time again. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe it was that he felt like he needed a minute alone.

Maybe it was the feeling that she was so much better than him. Maybe it was his mother's constant talks of rings and weddings. He wasn't quite sure but all of a sudden he felt like he was suffocating.

He sat her down in his bedroom in the flat. Explained that she wasn't the one and it didn't feel right anymore. He had watched as she cried and had attempted to comfort her only for her to push him away, fleeing his flat leaving a baffled Fred on the living room sofa, television on in front of him, wondering why the girl who may as well be a sister just left the flat in floods of tears.

George still visions his mother's face when he closes his eyes, the look on her face when he told her he ended his relationship. He remembers her disappointment. He remembers his brothers shock. He remembers his dad's sad sigh. He remembers his sister's passionate rant about how he never deserved her anyway.

As the girl cries on her hallway floor she vows that she will stop. Stop seeing the Weasley's. Not because she doesn't love them with every fibre of her being but because she couldn't handle the heart break. Couldn't keep sitting at their dinner table without his hand on her knee. Couldn't keep sitting on the swing set without him laughing and pushing her. Couldn't keep helping Molly clean plates without him sat on the counter teasing her.

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I love talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

Her resolve to stop seeing the Weasley's was gone by the next morning.

She woke up to a missed call from Charlie and called back, chattering away about his upcoming trip home as she got ready.

She arrived at her job at the ministry and met up with Hermione for coffee, deciding that when she eventually cut her ties she would keep Hermione. The girl was like a younger sister, although so was Ginny, but she figured one last tie to the family, someone to hear their news from would do no harm.

Arthur knocked on her office door in his lunch break, bringing with him sandwiches made by Molly and asking her to eat with him and she didn't have the heart to say no, so instead they ate in her office and talked merrily about the infestation of singing sunglasses he was dealing with today.

As she left her office she received a phone call from Ginny, who ranted about how annoying Harry was being and how now she had graduated and was training she felt like she had no time to focus on her relationship.

It was after she assured the girl that her and Harry were meant to be as she walked through the Leaky Cauldron she knew what she had to do.

She got a flat above a bookshop on Diagon Alley simply to be near George and now everyday, walking past his store, felt like torture. She hadn't been in the store, she'd avoided it like the plague even when Fred asked her to come and hang out with him and George wasn't working. So as she walked into the atmospheric shop her heart felt like it was sinking in her chest.

"Hey sweetheart, you all okay?" Fred asks with a bright grin, he's leaning on his cane for support and eyeing the door.

She could cry looking at him. Not just because he looks identical to the man who fell out of love with her and she still pined desperately for. No. Today the tears she blinks back are practically grief, she knew that, realistically, she would see Fred around, but she wouldn't be able to call him a friend anymore.

"I uh- could I speak to George?" she questions, Fred smiles gently, noticing her pained tone.

"Yeah, of course, you can go on up," he assures. She nods shooting him a small smile, but pauses on the stairs.

"Hey Freddie,"

"Yeah,"

"I want you to know that I am really proud of you, of the shop and of how much better you are and I mean when I first met you who'd have thought you'd end up here. I just-well I love you and I am really proud," She blinks back tears as she speaks, almost wishing she would get a chance to say a goodbye to all the Weasley's.

Fred smiles gently, somewhere in him he can tell, tell that this is goodbye and he's about to loose a friend.

"I love you too sweetheart, just remember no matter what that I am always going to be here for you,"

They share eye contact for a moment, both knowing and not saying it. Fred understood, he can only imagine how hard it must be to still be a part of his family's lives after George. He knew the girl in front of him loved his twin brother more than anything, he knew that deep down George loved her just as much, and yet here Fred stands, a silent goodbye hanging in the air.

Phone calls Sweet notes All the little things I used to love Now they just remind me that I was never enough We said we’d keep in touch and I tried But the more we keep in touch, the less I move on in life

"Hey George," she speaks quietly, standing in the hallway of his flat as he stands staring at her shock.

It's been a month since he saw her and his heart leaps at the sight of her, at her standing there with a small smile and teary eyes and a pencil skirt and blazer and messy hair and she's just her. She is her and it's everything he's been missing. He wonders as he stares at her how he ever thought that she wasn't the one. That she wasn't perfect. That she wasn't made for him.

Her own eyes are wide, seeing him sparking something in her that she didn't even know existed. He's shirtless, a white towel wrapped around his hips and his hair damp from the shower he just clearly had. Her eyes scan his toned chest, his broad shoulders, the light sprinkles of freckles. His scent, his cinnamon body wash, is so strong that it practically invades her body and she could scream and cry and all she wants is to kiss him.

"Oh-shit-hi. Is everything alright?" He's worried to see her, had someone died? Was she okay? Merlin, he wanted her to be happy more than anything in the world.

"Hey," she speaks quietly, backing a way a little when he tries to move closer, not wanting to be close enough that she could reach out and touch him.

"You said that already," he teases gently, testing the waters.

"I'm sorry- I-" she cuts herself off, not sure how to say anything that she wants to

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay," he comforts her gently "Why don't you go sit down, I'll get dressed and come, just give me a minute," he offers, she nods her head slowly.

When he enters the living room it feels natural. Seeing her sat on his sofa waiting for him feels right. He thinks for a second about how it could all be different. How he could be in pyjamas and she could be in one of his shirts, how he would jump on her and laugh when she tells him he is squashing her, how he'd have held her as they watch a film and make-out and he'd cook for her and they'd drink wine and enjoy a blissful Friday evening, wrapped up in each other.  

"You're all dressed up. Going anywhere nice?" she questions, eyes scanning his white dress shirt and jeans.

"The Italian, the one in Camden town,"

"With the little dog and the red wine?" she questions, George lets out a laugh at the memory of the time he took her there, it was a month after the war, thinking back it was probably the last time he took her out. He got so busy with Fred and the shop and she'd not been a priority when he knew she should have been, she never seemed to mind though.

"That's the one,"

"So, it's a date," she smiles gently, heart splintering in her chest

"Uh, yeah. Yeah it is," he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

"That's great, do I know her?"

"Angelina," He admits quietly. She nods, forcing a smile.

"That's great George, I'm really happy for you. I'm sorry to disturb you-"

"No!" he cuts her off a little too eagerly, a little too happy to see her. "No, you are fine being here. I want to help with whatever is happening," he assures her

"Right, well I won't keep you long," she nods awkwardly

"Hush, none of that nonsense, take all the time you need," he reassures her, sitting down next to her on the sofa but keeping a respectful distance apart.

"So-well- I know that this is-" she cuts herself off with a sigh "Sorry, this is just...awkward,"

"Hey, it's just me. You can say anything," He moves his hand to place it gently on her knee, his heart stops at the way she gently pulls her leg away.

"I need you to tell your family to stop talking to me,"

"What?" he snaps, suddenly quite offended. "My family have been nothing but kind to you and-"

"Christ! it's not like that!" she gasps, he sighs

"Then what?"

"I can't be a part of their lives anymore. I know it sounds so selfish and I wish it was different but- George- I love your family. I really do. I just- being around them hurts. It kills me. It makes me want to just drop dead because every time I talk to them I think of you. Being in your house I can feel you and- I- it hurts. It hurts too much," She admits it in a tired whisper, George feels his heart break at the thought of her heartbroken because of him.

"Okay. I'll talk to them," he speaks quietly, she nods and stands.

"Goodbye George,"

"I'll see you around?" he asks quietly, the thought of this being it makes his heart hurt. When his family were stealing seeing him all the time it wasn't as bad, he always knew what was happening in her life. This, this was final.

"Yeah. Yeah maybe,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

For the next six months George hears nothing. Without his family seeing her he has no idea how she is, if she's okay, if she's happier now. He lays up at night thinking about her and wishing he could turn back time.

She hears scraps, staying in touch with Hermione, she knows about Ron in depth, hears bits and pieces about the rest of the family. Too awkward to ask if George is okay, if he's happier without her, if he's with Angelina now.

Bill receives a card when his little girl is born but she doesn't pick up the phone when he calls her. Fred gets a text message when he finishes his physical therapy but when he replies it's left on delivered. Ginny swears up and down that she saw her in the stands of her first professional quidditch game but can't prove it.

So, with dread filling her body and curses at her nephew flying in her mind she enters Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She's hoping to go unseen by the twins, they had staff now and maybe they would never have to find out her annoyingly loveable nephew wanted a reusable swamp for his 12th birthday and absolutely nothing else would do.

"Hello, welcome to Weasley's Wizard- oh, hi," George's voice sounds anxious when he snaps his head up to see her standing like a deer in the headlights in the almost empty shop.

"Hey,"

"Is everything alright?" George wonders if the way his mind automatically jumps to something awful having happened because of the war or because he can't think of any other reason after everything he put her through that she would want to be anywhere near him.

"It's Max's birthday next week," she announces

"Yeah. 12, right?" George questions with a lopsided grin. He adored her nephew, the kid as giggly and energetic and just like him and Fred were as kids. He also loved the way she was around kids.

"Yeah," she confirms, surprised he remembers. "He, uh, started school,"

"Made Gryffindor I'm sure," George smiles, it's the first genuine smile he's let out in weeks

"Yeah. The first thing he said when he saw me at Christmas was that I just had to tell uncle George, didn't shut up about you once. I didn't have the heart to tell him we broke up so..." she trails off.

"He's a good kid,"

"He is. Professor McGonogall isn't quite so set on him,"

"Nah, she always loves the trouble makers," George smirks

"That's true," She smiles gently "Anyway, so he wants a portable swamp and nothing else instead for his birthday, so," she trails off once more, gesturing to herself.

"Well of course," George grins, pushing himself off the front desk that he had been resting on and striding across the shop floor to grab one. He grabs a basket, walking around the floor and plucking any product he thinks the kid might like, even a few unreleased things from the back room before returning to where she is standing at the front till with a small smile on her face.

"George-" she starts, he shushes her immediately.

"I'll gift wrap them for you," he announces, placing the full basket on the till

"You don't have to that," she protests but he laughs

"Actually, I kinda do. You are the worst at wrapping gifts," he teases making her smile.

"You got me there," she admits

"Yeah. So, how've you been," He begins scanning products through the till and wrapping them with ease

"Uh good. I got a promotion-"

"Wow! that's fantastic, and so well deserved,"

"How would you know?" She blushes as she speaks, not looking at the boy

"I do read the paper y'know? What is it now 100 war criminals you have single handedly found," he bolsters, she'd always wanted to be an auror but becoming so high up that she reported directly to the minister and had a big fancy office was only in her wildest dreams until now.

"What about you? How's things?" she questions

"They're good. Shop's going great and Fred's only getting better by the day. Little Victorie is so perfect and yeah life is, well, it's good," He can't bring himself to say that as much as everything is perfect he can't find it in him to be happy without her by his side.

"And Angelina?"

"We decided we were way better as friends. You dating?"

"I'm married to the job," she shrugs, not wanting to say she doubted she would ever fall in love again without him.

"I get that," he nods, placing the pile of wrapped up parcels into bags. He physically laughs when she grabs her purse and begins to gather money

"Sweetheart, you're not paying for any of this. I only rang it through the till because we have to stock management,"

"George, that is so kind but I can-"

"Yes you can, if it makes you feel better stick my name on a couple of the tags alright?"

"I will, I promise that I will," she nods, taking the bags from his hand "Thank you,"

"No bother. Give Max my best, yeah?" He smiles, she nods and he watches as she leaves the store, his heart that he hadn't even realised was practically beaming dulls back down when she goes.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king

I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express the way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"You busy?" Hermione leans in the doorway of her office

"I can make a couple minutes, what's up? We had coffee three days ago," she reminds as the brunette steps into the office, closing the door behind her and settling in the seat across the desk.

"I know and I wanted to ask then but I couldn't bring myself to it because I feel so bad asking," Hermione explains, twisting the diamond ring on her finger anxiously.

"'Mione, you can ask me anything. You know that if it's physically possible I'll do it," she assures, putting the papers she had been reading down to give her friend undivided attention.

"You're one of my best friends," Hermione states

"And you're one of mine," The girl nods, eyebrows furrowed in concern

"And when somebody does something big in their life they want their best friends there,"

"Hermione what ever you need I'm there. 100%"

"Big things like getting married. I'm getting married, you know that, I mean to say Ron and I have picked a date and it's four months away and we are getting married at the burrow in a marquee by the lake. I know it's a lot to ask of you. I mean it's not just some ex, it's George, and I know how hard it's been for you without him and I hate myself for asking. And it's not just seeing him it's being there, I mean you fell in love with him there and it's not just him it's all of them and I understand if you say no, but, I want you there," Hermione rambles

"Of course," She speaks without thinking, never would she not attend her friends wedding "Hermione, I would love nothing more than to be there,"

"Really?" Hermione beams

"Merlin, 'Mione did you think for a second I wouldn't come, it's your wedding,"

Love them like they are my own But I don’t think I’ll ever move on If you don’t , If  you don't

It had been the most obvious thing in the world to say yes when Hermione asked, but now, standing in a stupid, but undeniably beautiful, pale blue bridesmaid dress she felt nervous. Hermione had insisted she had no obligation to see the Weasley's until the wedding day, she knew how her friends heart ached for not just George but the whole family, and wanted to make the whole thing as painless as possible.

But now, standing in the empty kitchen the morning of the wedding, the girl wondered how to breathe. She arrived by floo powder, already changed and ready like Hermione had instructed as she was getting ready with her muggle family.

She wasn't sure what she expected but it wasn't the empty, quiet room she was standing in.

She lets out a sigh, blinking back tears, the scent feeling like coming home.

"Sweetie, how are you?" She hadn't even realised Molly had entered the room from the back door until the familiar woman is pulling her into a hug.

"I'm okay, how are you?" she questions as Molly pulls away. If it were anyone else Molly would have rushed away, much too busy with preparations, but it wasn't. Molly loved the kids her children brought home in her life like her own, she missed the girl but understood that she needed space. One look at the tears in her eyes tells Molly that right now she needs to be here.

"I'm good. We are all good," Molly assures, gently guiding the girl to sit. "Now, tell me honestly, how are you?

"I'm just sorry," She admits, voice cracking and tears spilling onto her cheeks. "You must all hate me,"

"Sweetie, no one here hates you, not even for a second. We adore you," she assures, rubbing the girl's shoulder comfortingly

"All of you were always so welcoming and kind and then I just stop speaking to you all. I was so rude and I'm so sorry. Merlin, I didn't even tell you myself I made George do it,"

"None of that. You don't have to be sorry. We are the sorry ones. My son broke your heart and we were all wrapped up in loving you and wanting to be part of your life that we didn't stop to think how hard it would be for you. To be here and to talk to us. You needed to heal, no one is mad at you. We just miss you, and when or if you ever want to come back you will be welcomed with open arms," Molly assures her, grabbing a tissue to dab the girls cheeks dry.

"I missed you so much Molly," she sighs

"I missed you too dear, and I know George misses you,"

"I miss him. Every day I miss him,"

The moment is cut short when Charlie strides in through the front door "Thought I smelt trouble," He beams, wrapping his arms around the girl "Come help me with the daises, Hermione wants like a thousand and Perce is useless,"  He informs, an arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looks almost anxious and he rubs her shoulder gently "He's upstairs with Ron," he whispers gently

"You're welcome to go and speak to him if you'd rather," Molly informs, she wanted her son to be back with the girl more than anything.

"It's okay I'm happy to help,"

"Thank Merlin, I'd strangle Percy if you aren't there to stop me,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"I saw mum put you to work earlier," George's voice calls through the dark night air. She's sat in the tree house in the garden, the wedding a small distance away.

"I never mind," she shrugs as she watched him climb the ladder, he sits down next to her, legs dangling over the edge next to hers.

"Thought I'd find you here," He comments, he had built the tree house one summer when they couldn't get a minute alone. It was the first summer she spent there, between 4th and 5th year, she fell in love with him in that tree house.

"Just needed a minute," she sighs

"Yeah. It's beautiful but it's kind of a lot,"

"Weddings when you're depressingly single are often a lot," she shrugs, he chuckles at that.

"I have no clue how you are single," He comments, eyes trained on the starry sky above them

"Well, you dumped me so," she teases, a light laugh in her voice. He rolls his eyes, bumping his body to hers, for the first time since the breakup she doesn't move away from his touch. Not wanting to waste the opportunity but also not wanting to push her he settles for pressing his leg next to hers, her foot wraps around his leg holding him close to her without her even noticing, it's second nature, instinctive.

"I'm serious. You're so incredibly kind, and funny, and smart and good in bed," he adds the last one as a joke, laughing when she playfully swats his arm "and I mean, look at you right now, you're like a fucking goddess. You always are. How had no one swept you up?" He questions, and he means every word of it.

"Honestly?" she questions

"Always,"

"They've tried. I mean boys ask me out or try and get with me, but- I- well I never say yes, it's not fair to go on a date with someone when you're in love with someone else,"  She admits, she is staring straight ahead, not looking at him, so she misses the grin that brightens his face.

"That's why Angelina and I decided on friends," he admits, she hums in response not sure what to say. A comfortable silence falls over them, the sound of music from the party the only thing filling the air.

"You wanna dance?"he asks suddenly

"Sure," she agrees, he jumps down from the tree house, it's a little stupid but not unsafe and they've done it a thousand times before. She follows suit and his hands grab her waist to steady her when she stumbles a little in her heels.

He keeps his hands there, pulling her closer to him as hers wrap around his neck.

"Always thought you looked so good in blue," he admits as his thumb strokes her waist, the silky material soft under his grip. "Like a princess," he adds

"Always thought you looked so good in a suit," she grins, blushing a little as he twirls her around

"I miss you," he hums out, pulling her back closer this time, her head resting on his chest.

"I miss you," she returns.

"Y'know I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. I regret it. More than anything," he's practically whispering and his heart stops when she stills in his arms.

"I can't do this," She whispers, tugging herself from his arms

"Darling-"

"No. George, I love you, more than anything. So I can't. It's your little brother's wedding and you are lonely and you are all mixed up and we haven't seen each other in so long and weddings, merlin weddings, they confuse everything and I can't. I can't do this one last night thing. I'm sorry,"

Before George can reply, can tell her that she's so far from right she's turned around and is speeding back towards the party.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express That you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

She pulls her apartment door open a week after the wedding, surprised to see George Weasley a determined look in his eyes and soaking wet from the rain.

"George,"

"Hi. I need to talk to you," he doesn't seem nervous, he seems like there's a fire in his belly, a determination, a purpose, a need.

"Oh, sure. Come in," She moves aside, letting him in. "The living area is at the end of the hall. I'll go grab a towel," she directs.

He looks around the living area, it's open plan to the kitchen and it's cosy. Full of pictures and little trinkets, it is fundamentally her and his he feels more at home there despite having never been before than he does in his own flat.

She re-enters, throwing a fluffy baby pink towel at George before heading into the kitchen, grabbing an extra mug having been in the process of making tea when he arrived, and fixing them both a tea how they like it.

"So, you wanted to talk?" she prompts, sitting crosslegged on the couch, her fuzzy pjs and messy hair so domestic and beautiful he would marry her on the spot to get to see her like that every day.

"You said that you didn't want to do one last night, well, I don't either. It wasn't wedding goggles making me look at you different. I am in love with you. So, in love with you that being without you makes it hard to breathe and I want you back, not just for a night but for the rest of my life," He thinks he should be nervous but he's not. It's her. He could never be nervous with her.

"George, that makes no sense why would you-"

"Listen, I have never felt good enough for you. The whole time I've known you it was like you were so above me and I could never be on your level, no matter what happened you were always perfect. You were, and are, too good for me,"

"George, I have never been-" she starts but he cuts her off

"I had to help Fred. He is my twin brother, my best friend. He nearly died and I was terrified. He was nearly crushed to death and I realised I could loose him, I could loose anyone I loved. That included you, obviously, and that's how it started. I was scared to be with you because if I lost you I couldn't cope. I couldn't survive. So I started pushing you away. But you. Merlin, you're so good that it didn't matter. I pushed you away and I was wrong to do that but you didn't waver for a second. It was my responsibility to help Fred. To go to physical therapy with him. To hold him when he cried. To be there no matter. I would have done it no matter what. But you. You didn't have to do that. But you did. You didn't complain. You didn't walk away. You helped fix Fred even when I was being crappy to you," He rants

"George, I loved you and I still do. I would have done anything you asked me to, I still would. But I didn't help Fred because of you. I didn't do it for you. Not cause I was too good. I helped Fred because he's been my friend since I was 11. I helped Fred for Fred. Not for you," She explains, George sighs.

"I know. I just was in this state right? I was scared to loose you and you've always been too good for me and I just didn't know what to do. Then, Fred was getting better, and I felt empty. I wanted Fred happy and healthy of course but I'd become so used to spending all my time trying to fix things, trying to keep everyone afloat. It felt like everything stopped. Like no one needed me. I became obsessed with things I could. I couldn't fix you, I couldn't fix us, because nothing needed fixing. You were so perfect for me that I didn't need to fix it. That scared me. The more I thought about it the more I realised if I lost you, no one could fix me, I couldn't loose you but I wasn't good enough for you. It had to be me. My terms. My breakup. It was stupid, but that was I hadn't lost you I'd given you up and that was better," he explains, tears flooding her cheeks as she suddenly understands everything that's been happening for the past months.

"Georgie, you never needed to be scared. I'm not going anywhere, I promise,"

"I know. I'm sorry that I hurt you,"

"George, I love you,"

"I love you darling, more than anything," he smiles

"So another go?" she questions timidly

"If you'll have me," he nods, she grins. Hands shoving his shoulder's back to lay against the sofa, knees on either side of his waist. Her lips touch his for the first time in months and it's like they can breathe again.

They lay side by side in her bed that night, bare skin pressed to each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible.

"Can we stay here all day tomorrow? I just wanna lay with you," she speaks tiredly, her head on his chest

"Ron and Hermione get home from the honeymoon tomorrow," George informs, she moves her head to look at him "We have a dinner thing, looking at the wedding pictures too,"he continues

"That'll be nice. You aren't leaving my bed till the very last minute though," she decides

"You should come," he prompts, giving her a squeeze

"You really think your family won't mind?"

"Please, they love you. They'll just be glad to see we are back together,"

"We could be going as friends," She teases, he rolls his eyes

"Not to a family reunion we couldn't. Besides, I have every intention to hold your hand and kiss you the whole night so they'll probably catch on. Aside from Percy, bless him, he's socially inept,"

If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

**

Masterlist

[sylvies-chen]

Brettsey + your eyes look like coming home

When she’s in Chicago, she doesn’t always feel like something’s missing.

Sylvie will go about her days, getting through her shifts, going to Molly’s, doing paperwork, going through the motions. Some days will be good, some days will be less good. It’s all a mixture, just like it is for everyone else.

Only she doesn’t realize just how bad her bad days are, or even how good her good ones are, until she’s hopping on a plane, going to Oregon, and running into Matt’s arms.

As soon as he locks eyes with her when she arrives, whether it be at the airport or at the house, something just… clicks. The familiarity behind the gentle stare, the irises that hold calming oceans and the promise of a happy present and an even happier future together, the way they light up as soon as she enters a room. It’s all a mixture of hope and love and hell, even a little bit of sadness, because those steady, loving eyes make her realize how much she’s missed him. And suddenly the emotions from all those days building up inside of her come pouring out, and it’s like she walks around neutral to it all until she sees him again, until she’s reminded of everything they have and all its power and beauty, and her reactions to everything from before feel heightened. Sylvie’s home when she looks into his eyes, and so holding back seems arbitrary. It all flies away, unhinged and unwavering.

It happens this time too. She didn’t have a particularly gruelling shift or anything, but she’s tired and can feel it creeping in from the depths of her bones. Sleeping has been hard for the past few days, mainly because they’ve had a lot of nighttime calls while on shift and her sleep cycle just fucked itself up after that, but she’s been holding it in really well. Only now, all it takes is Matt standing in the airport with that look in his eye, and it’s like the fatigue hits her all at once.

She barely gets to hug him before her knees tremble and hell, it’s like she’s falling into his arms.

“Woah, woah,” Matt cautions, holding her up as she uses his bicep for support. “You okay?”

“Tired,” she responds. “Missing you just takes all the energy right out of me.”

He gives a soft chuckle at that, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard. It’s hard for me too.”

“I know,” she nods, her eyes fluttering tiredly. “It’s okay though. I don’t need to miss you for three whole days now. I’m home.”

And Jesus, if only he knew how true those words are.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Thinking of You - Fred Weasley

Title: Thinking of You Pairing: Fred x fem!reader Summary: Fred and the reader are best friends. No matter what George thinks he knows. Just best friends. Best friends who are in love, that is. A/N: this is for the anon who wanted a best friends who are obviously in love with each other!! Reader is the daughter of Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon, I tried to make it obvious but there it is in case it isn’t clear!! Feedback is always welcomed and requests are open!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, any fun plans for this summer?” Lee asks, trying to break the tension in the air.

Y/N shrugs, pulling her eyes from the landscape swirling outside the train so she can look at the three boys sitting with her. Train rides home for the summer with Lee, Fred and George are easily some of the best memories they’ve made together.  They’re usually filled with loud laughter, too much chocolate and plans for their next year of pranks. They’ve been the fearsome foursome since the first day of term nearly six years ago, when Y/N had called Snape Snivellous under her breath, and Fred had laughed so loud he landed himself in detention. Fred had insisted she sit with him, George and Lee at dinner that night and the four of them have been pulling pranks and causing chaos together ever since.

But this year, this year is different. Over the past few years they’ve become accustomed to their school year ending in a less than traditional way, but it’s never stopped them from having fun together one last time as they head towards home. This year though, the last few weeks have been so tense and sad around the castle that it has carried over into their moods. Y/N has never seen Fred and George so quiet, except for the time Fred fell asleep with his head in her lap in the common room third year.

“Come on, Y/N. You’ve got to have something exciting going on. You and Remus always have summer plans,” Fred teases, nudging her knee with his.

Y/N scowls at Fred, trying to hide her smile. Her home life was certainly less than traditional, and Y/N’s friends loved to tease her about it. They didn’t tease her about the fact that she had been raised by her Godfather, but more so about the fact that she had been raised by Remus Lupin, their former professor. When Remus took up a teaching position at Hogwarts during their 5th year, Y/N had no choice but to reveal to her friends just exactly why their new professor knew her so well. They had all thought it was pretty cool, but unfortunately for Y/N it raised more questions about her home life than it had answered.

She rolls her eyes, shoving Fred lightly. “We went on a road trip one summer and you’re still giving me shit about it? Pathetic,” she teases with a giggle. Fred throws his arm around her shoulder and messes with her hair. “If Remus,” she mocks, sticking her tongue out at Fred as she leans into his side. “Has planned anything then he hasn’t said anything.”

Y/N swallows thickly, trying to force the lump in her throat away. She hates lying to her friends, but she’s on strict orders from Dumbledore not to say anything. Now that Voldemort has returned secret plans have been made, the biggest of them being the reformation of the Order of the Phoenix. Remus had moved into Order headquarters a few days before the end of term, and she’d be joining him there for the summer.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say,” Fred chides before he turns his attention to Lee.

Y/N lets herself snuggle into Fred’s side, a small smile appearing on her face when his grip around her tightens. George gives her a knowing look, and she sticks her tongue out at him, a pink blush creeping up on her cheeks. Despite whatever George thinks is going on with her and Fred, Fred Weasley is her best friend and absolutely nothing more.

-

“Dad!” Y/N squeals excitedly before she’s running down the entry hall of 12 Grimmauld Place and into her father’s open arms.

Sirius chuckles and wraps his arms around his daughter tightly. “Hello there little one. I’ve missed you.”

Y/N pulls away from her dad, a bright smile on her face, unable to contain her happiness. She’d been dreaming of the day that she’d get to live with Sirius and be a proper family since the end of last year, when the truth about James and Lily’s death was made clear. Y/N had only gotten to see her dad briefly before he had to flee, and she’d spent quite a bit of her free time thinking about him over the past year.

“Oh no, Y/N, Sirius, don’t worry. I don’t need a hand. I’ve got it,” Remus huffs, his tone teasing. Y/N turns back towards the door, giggling as Remus struggles to pull her trunk through the door. “What in Merlin’s sake do you have in this thing? It didn’t weigh this much when I dropped you off at Kings Cross in September.”

“I may or may not be harboring some things for the Weasley twins,” she admits with a laugh.

Remus gives her a disapproving look to try and hide the gleam of mischief in his eyes. He takes out his wand, waving it so that her trunk is now floating. “Harboring what? Is there something illegal in there? I know what Fred and George get up to.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and laughs along with Sirius. “It’s nothing like that, Remus. I promise. It’s just some stuff they’ve been developing for their joke shop. If Molly finds it she’ll destroy it, so Fred gave it to me to hold onto for a bit. Not a big deal.”

“Come on, Remus, don’t be a stick in the mud,” Sirius chides. “We got up to quite a bit of mischief in our younger days. It’s only natural that Y/N does as well. She’s got the blood of one Marauder and she was raised by another, that’s double the mischief.”

Y/N can tell that Sirius is trying to joke, but his voice shakes. She and Sirius have corresponded a few times since he flew off on Buckbeak and many of her letters contained stories of things her and Remus had done as she grew up. Often times Sirius’ replies were filled with apologies and regret that he had missed out on doing those things with her.

“As long as it’s nothing illegal I’ll let it slide,” Remus says quietly a few moments later. He directs Y/N’s trunk to fly down the hallway and up the stairs. “Second door on the right, yes?”

Sirius nods and puts his arm around Y/N’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “That’s right. I spent all week preparing your room.” He looks down at Y/N with a reassuring smile. “Alright then, let’s head down to the kitchen for something to eat.”

-

“Have you got the rest of the rooms cleaned out, Sirius? Our guests will be arriving in a few hours,” Remus says as he takes a sip of coffee.

Y/N frowns, looking between Remus and her dad. “Guests? What guests?”

It’s only two weeks into summer break and Y/N has been enjoying every minute of it. Remus has been in and out of the house doing things for the Order, so she and Sirius have had plenty of time to connect. The house is pretty busy as is, with Order members fliting in and out at all hours of the night, so Y/N can’t imagine it getting any crazier.

Sirius and Remus share a look before Sirius turns to look at Y/N. “Dumbledore has fully briefed the Weasley family on what’s going on, and Arthur and Molly have joined the order. And since Arthur works at the ministry and their son Percy is an assistant to Fudge, Dumbledore thinks it’s best that they stay somewhere that’s under protection.”

“So, the Weasleys are going to be spending the rest of the holiday here?” Y/N asks, her cheeks heating up. When Remus nods she bites her lip. “Do they know? That Sirius is, you know, my dad?”

“You haven’t told them yourself?” Sirius asks. Y/N can hear the hurt in his voice.

Remus shakes his head. “Dumbledore told Arthur and Molly I’m sure, and Ron knows because of Harry, but I don’t think the Twins or Ginny know.” He turns to Sirius then. “We talked about this, Sirius. For Y/N’s safety no one knows you’re her father, that’s why she has Marlene’s last name. We all know that you’re innocent, but the rest of the Wizarding World doesn’t. It was smart of Y/N not to tell anyone except for those who know the truth about you.”

Y/N watches Remus and Sirius look at each other as if they’re having a conversation without even saying anything. “If it makes you feel better,” she says softly, causing both men to look over at her. “I only told them Remus is my Godfather because he started teaching at Hogwarts. He ruined my mysterious reputation.”

Sirius laughs, breaking the awkward tension that had fallen over them. “It does make me feel a bit better, yes.”

“Hey now, I won’t have any of this. You two ganging up on me. Y/N you’re supposed to be on my side,” Remus teases. “Now hurry up and finish your breakfast, you need to get a start on your summer reading. You remember that reading, Sirius? The reading I told you to make sure she started last week?”

Sirius puts his hands up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says innocently, sending Y/N a wink.

After breakfast Y/N does reluctantly head up to her bedroom to start on her summer reading.  And she has every intention of doing it. But as she settles into her fluffy bed and starts to read about some transfiguration method she can’t help but let her eyes close, dreams of what shenanigans she and her friends may get up to this summer floating through her mind.

-

“Five more minutes, Remus,” Y/N mumbles, batting away the finger that’s poking her in the cheek. When the poking persists she opens her eyes, a noise of surprise coming out of her mouth. “Fred? George?” she asks in surprise, suddenly sitting up. She starts to fix her hair, a light flush on her cheeks. “What in the hell are you two doing here?”

“We could ask you the same thing, Y/N,” Fred says, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Yeah, imagine our surprise when we enter what we think will be our room for the summer,” George continues, taking a seat on the edge of the other side.

“And we see you, peacefully sleeping in a bed,” Fred says, leaning a bit closer to Y/N.

“In Sirius Black’s house,” they finish together.

“There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for that,” she starts, trying to figure out how to explain one of her deepest secrets to her best friends. They both look at her expectantly and she starts to twirl a piece of hair around her finger. “Sirius Black is my dad,” she mumbles.

Fred and George give her identical looks of disapproval. “Gonna have to speak up, love. We’re old men now, being 17 and all. We’re a bit hard of hearing,” Fred teases, lightly nudging her foot.

Y/N rolls her eyes, ignoring the feeling she has in her stomach from Fred’s pet name and touch. “Sirius is my dad. And not like how you guys like to tease me and say Remus is my dad. He’s my full on. Blood related. Dad.”

“Blimey, Y/N. You’ve been holding out on us. What are we going to find out next? Your mother is the Queen?” George teases with a laugh.

“You’re an idiot, you know who my mum is,” she says with a light laugh, leaning forward to punch George in the shoulder.

Fred wraps his hand around Y/N’s ankle and squeezes lightly, causing her to look over at him. “You have been holding out on us. How come?” he asks, trying to keep the same jokey tone his brother had to hide his genuine hurt.

“Because it’s pretty hard to make friends when the world thinks your dad is one of Voldemort’s biggest supporters,” she answers honestly. “That’s the reason why Remus changed my last name back to my mum’s when he got custody. My mum and her family, they died heroes, that’s the legacy that Remus wanted me to have.”

Fred squeezes her ankle again and Y/N tries to pretend that it doesn’t cause goosebumps to erupt up her leg. “But what about after? When you found out about what really happened?”

Y/N shrugs, looking away from Fred’s gaze. She knows that she could have told them the truth after she had learned it herself and she’s not really sure why she didn’t. “I dunno. You guys had just barely found out about Remus. It just seemed easier to keep it to myself.”

“So, it’s not because you secretly hate us and don’t really want to be our friend?” George asks with a grin.

Y/N grabs a pillow from behind her and throws it at his head. “You’re a moron, George.” Y/N fidgets, suddenly very aware that she is still in her pajamas. “Now shouldn’t you boys be doing something else? Like unpacking your things or bothering I dunno, anyone else in this house?”

George looks from Y/N to the place where Fred is still holding onto her ankle and gives her a glance that Y/N knows means he’ll be bringing this up to her later. She grabs another pillow and throws it at him. “Fine, fine, we’re leaving,” he laughs.

“Wow, someone is feeling feisty,” Fred teases. He squeezes her ankle one last time before he gets up and follows George out of her room. “Oh, by the way, nice Pj’s,” he teases, causing Y/N to throw her last pillow at him.

-

“Y/N dear, it’s lovely to see you!” Molly greets as Y/N enters the kitchen a bit later. Y/N smiles at her and accepts her warm hug. Having Molly in her life was certainly one of the best perks of being friends with Fred and George. Molly radiated warmth and was always willing to open her home and her heart to her children’s friends; something Y/N was always thankful for.

“Hi Molly. I’m so glad you’re here. Remus and Sirius are pretty awful cooks,” Y/N says with a laugh as she goes to sit down. She tries to take a seat next to George, but Fred grabs her arm and pulls her towards him instead. Y/N flicks Fred on the ear and takes a seat in between them, hoping to avoid more teasing remarks from George later on.

Sirius eyes the interaction between Y/N and Fred carefully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Now while I can’t speak for Moony, I did just spend 12 years in Azkaban,” Sirius chides a moment later.

“I see why you always beg to spend the Holidays at the Burrow, Y/N,” Remus teases, choosing to ignore Sirius.

“Oh yeah it has everything to do with Mum’s cooking,” George pipes up, his tone a clear indication that Y/N’s yearning to spend time at the Burrow has little to do with Molly’s cooking.

Y/N hits George upside the head, causing Ginny and Fred to burst out in laughter. “Well I obviously don’t go there to spend more time with you, git”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough out of you lot,” Molly scolds lightly as trays of food start to fly onto the table. “Y/N is welcome at our home anytime no matter the reason.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at George and reaches for a sandwich, her hand brushing Fred’s as he goes to grab the same one. “You take it,” she says quietly, letting her hand linger near his for a moment.

Fred grabs the sandwich and puts it on Y/N’s plate with a wink. “Nah you have that one, I’ll take this one.” Fred winks at her again as he takes the sandwich Ron was about to close his hand around.

“Hey!” Ron shouts in annoyance.

“Sorry ickle Ronniekins, gotta be faster than that,” Fred teases with a laugh.

Y/N laughs along with him, trying to ignore the warmth Fred’s hand gives off as it rests on her knee.

-

“I really am doing my reading, Remus, I promise!” Y/N shouts after someone knocks on her door.

Y/N had spent most of the day with Fred and George, getting caught up on the new item they’d started to develop in the few short weeks it’s been since the end of term. For a while she had just laid on Fred’s bed, watching him and George pour over their notes to try and work out the issues with what they called ‘extendable ears.’ Eventually she got up and went to find Ginny, mostly to avoid George’s stare after Fred’s hand wound around her ankle again. She avoided both boys until dinner, when the topic of her reading was brought up again. Unfortunately for Y/N, George ratted her out to Remus about her mid-morning nap, and he had made her promise that she’d head up to her room after dinner to read.

“Really? That’s quite boring,” Sirius says playfully as he pushes her door open.

Y/N laughs and throws the book she had been skimming onto the bed next to her. “Oh hey, Dad.”

Sirius closes the door behind him and comes to sit on the edge of her bed. “What’s with all this summer reading anyway? Last I checked Hogwarts didn’t set homework over the summer holidays.”

“It’s not official reading. Just something Remus makes me do during the break. Keep my mind fresh or something,” she explains with an eyeroll. “It has come in handy a couple times, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Sirius winks at her and pretends to zip his lips shut. “Your secret is safe with me.” Sirius pauses for a moment. “So, what’s going on with you and that Weasley boy?”

Y/N can feel her face start to heat up, and she starts to twirl her hair around her finger. “Fred and George are my best friends. Nothing more.”

“Your mother was one of my best friends back in our Hogwarts days, and you can clearly see how that worked out,” he jokes, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

“Really? I didn’t know that,” Y/N says softly, trying to both avoid the current topic and find out more information. “Remus didn’t talk about you much, growing up. For obvious reasons,” she chuckles.

Sirius gives her a sad smile. “Your mother was a wild card. You never really knew what she was thinking unless she told you. She instigated quite a bit of the shenanigans James and I got into, just to see if we would actually go through with it.”

“And of course, you guys did,” Y/N laughs.

Sirius scoffs playfully. “Well duh. I was never one to back down from a challenge, especially not when it gave me the opportunity to show off for your mother. I so desperately wanted her attention; it was actually quite pathetic. James would tease me relentlessly for it, but he was no better. Lily didn’t give him the time of day until at least 6th year, no matter how hard he tried to impress her.”

“Well obviously you got her attention eventually,” Y/N says, gesturing towards herself. “I’m living proof.”

“That you are, little one,” Sirius smiles. “You remind me of her so much. Obviously not looks wise,” he adds with a laugh when Y/N gives him a look. Appearance wise there is no doubt that Sirius is Y/N’s dad, they have the same Grey eyes and dark wavy hair. “You have her spirit and her attitude. You have her ability to charm anyone in a matter of minutes. I’ve seen you use it on Remus, it’s quite uncanny really.”

Y/N blushes. Growing up Remus had told her story after story about her mother. Probably to make up for the lack of stories about her dad, but Y/N enjoyed it either way. He often told her how much she reminded him of her, but it sounds different coming from Sirius. Sirius had been in love with her mother, had known her deepest secrets and had even started a family with her. If Sirius could see Marlene in Y/N, then there’s no doubt in her mind that it’s true.

“So, just friends eh?” Sirius asks a moment later, playfully nudging Y/N’s leg.

Y/N blushes again for a different reason and nods. “Yes, just friends,” she insists.

“We’ll see about that,” Sirius says with a wink. He stands up then and looks down at her. “Now you better actually do some summer reading, before Remus forbids us from spending any time together.”

-

“How’s the summer reading going?” Fred says teasingly as he sneaks up behind Y/N.

Y/N quickly turns around and hits him on the chest lightly with her book. “You’re such an asshat. This house is creepy enough as it is, there’s no need for you to go sneaking up on people.”

Fred laughs as he jumps over the back of the sofa and sits next to Y/N, his arm resting on the piece of furniture just behind her head. “But that’s half the fun.”

“Where’s George?” she asks, turning her head to look around and make sure that he isn’t lurking around somewhere as well.

“Why? Am I not enough for you?” Fred asks with a pout.

Y/N rolls her eyes and digs her fingers into his side, tickling him slightly. “No. But I recall Molly tasked you two with getting some doxies out of the curtains in the study upstairs so if you’re slacking off he is too.”

“Me? Slacking off?” Fred asks astonishingly, grasping at his heart. “Y/N, you absolute monster! You’ve wounded me! I would never be slacking off!” He grins down at Y/N, causing her to roll her eyes again. “But to answer your question he’s upstairs recovering from a mishap with one of our nosebleed nougats.”

Y/N grimaces, a memory of Lee Jordan bleeding all over her Potions notes coming to mind. “Yikes. Still haven’t gotten them just right?” Fred shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “You think they’ll be ready? By the start of term?”

All Fred and George have talked about for years is opening up their own joke shop someday. In the past few years they’ve become closer than ever, having already developed some successful products with more in the works. Their only real roadblock has been funding, and Fred had shared with Y/N their plan to develop something called a Skiving Snackbox that they could sell to students to help with their startup costs.

“Oh yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind,” he responds confidently. “George and I are a force to be reckon with when we’ve got our mind on something and now that we’ve got our best girl with us for the whole summer,” Fred pauses so he can wink at Y/N and she hopes that the immediate blush that appears on her cheeks isn’t noticeable. “We’ll definitely get all the kinks worked out in time.”

Fred’s arm has fallen from its’ original resting place to Y/N’s shoulder, and his fingers have started to play with her hair. She rests her head on Fred’s shoulder, her fingers fiddling with the pages of her book. Fred’s fingers tug on her hair lightly, causing Y/N to look up at him. “What’s on your mind, Y/N?” he asks softly.

Y/N shrugs. “Just thinking about next year. We’re gonna be in our last year of school in a couple of months and I still have no idea what I want to do with my life.” During her OWL year Y/N had told McGonagall that she wanted to work in the Care of Magical Creatures department at the Ministry, but she isn’t quite sure that’s exactly what she wants. “You and George have already figured everything out and I’m just kinda stuck.”

Fred scoffs. “We have far from figured everything out, Y/N. But I’m glad it appears that way,” he chuckles. “And who cares if you don’t have everything figured out yet? You’re not even 17 yet. Frankly I think it’s rubbish that we’re expected to have our lives figured out when we’re this age.” Fred bites his lip. “If it really bothers you that much, then just come work at the joke shop with George and I.”

“What?” Y/N asks in surprise, trying to hide her excitement at his casual remark. “You’d really want me to work with you? The both of you. You and George,” she says quickly, looking away from Fred to hide her embarrassment.

“Yeah, ‘course, Y/N,” Fred says with a laugh. “You’re my best friend, why wouldn’t I want you to?”

“So, I’m your best friend, hm? Can’t wait to tell Lee you said that,” she teases, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Well, don’t you too look cozy?” George asks suddenly, causing Y/N and Fred to jump apart.

Y/N turns around so she can glare at George before she throws her book at him. “Blimey you’re a menace.”

George laughs and comes over to Y/N and Fred, forcing them apart so he can sit in between them. “Hey, that’s not very nice,” George says, giving Y/N a look when she digs her elbow into his ribs.

“You couldn’t have sat in any of the other chairs in this room?” Fred groans, moving over to give George room.

“I could have,” George says playfully. “But I wanted to sit here.” George grins wickedly at Fred. “Is that a problem, dear brother of mine? That I wanted to sit next to Y/N?”

“Not at all,” Fred says as he suddenly stands up. “We should probably get to that stuff Mum wanted us to do anyway.” Fred gives George a look and starts to head towards the door. “Enjoy you’re reading, Y/N,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

Y/N glares at George before digging her fingers into his ribs, causing him to yelp. “Ow! What was that for?” he asks, rubbing his side.

“You know exactly what that was for, git. You always have to go and make things weird,” Y/N huffs, crossing her arms.

“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen, Y/N,” George says with an eye roll. “And I wasn’t making things weird, I was simply trying to facilitate a conversation that you and my brother are both too stubborn to have on your own.”

“And what conversation might that be?” Y/N asks as she swallows thickly, already knowing the answer.

“Don’t be daft,” George drawls. “You’re both stupid in love with each other, so just admit it and make out so we all can move on. It’s getting ridiculous.”

Y/N blushes and digs her fingers into George’s ribs again to hide her nerves. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, George. Fred is my best friend, just like you and Lee.”

“Oh yeah, because Lee and I are always looking for an excuse to touch you, my bad,” George rolls his eyes. “Wait, that was Fred who kept grabbing your ankle yesterday, silly me.” George hits himself on the forehead jokingly. “And it definitely wasn’t Fred who just left his brother up in bed after he nearly bled to death so he could come cuddle you. Definitely not. Oh, wait.”

“Now who’s being a drama queen,” Y/N teases lightly as she begins to twirl a piece of hair around her index finger. “Friends can cuddle with each other, it’s not a big deal,” she mumbles.

“You’re right it is normal, Harry, Ron and Hermione cuddle all the time,” George responds, nudging Y/N.

Y/N scoffs at George. “Just give it a rest, George. If I did feel something more than friendship with Fred I would never act on it. Fred isn’t shy about anything, if he wanted to be more than friends he would have said something by now. So, we are clearly meant to be nothing more than friends. Which I’m fine with,” she adds, glaring at George.  “Now go help your brother with that doxy infestation before Molly finds you here and sets off that awful portrait of my grandmother again.”

-

“Finally,” Fred groans when George joins him up in the third-floor study. “Mum’s gonna be here any minute to check up on our progress and getting rid of these doxies is a two-person job.”

George rolls his eyes and takes the spray bottle Fred practically shoves into his chest. “What’s got you in a mood? Upset that I interrupted your snuggle time with Y/N?” he jokes.

“No,” Fred grumbles. When George gives him his signature ‘cut the crap’ look Fred flips him off. “We were just sitting there, talking like two friends do. You’re the one that made it weird.”

George rolls his eyes. “Have you forgotten that we’re twins? And that I can practically read your mind?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fred asks as he grabs his wand. He motions for George to get into place as he gets ready to cast the spell that will make the doxies fly at them. When George nods that he’s ready, Fred waves his wand and a flurry of doxies heads towards them.

“You know exactly what it means,” George grunts as he sprays the immobilizing potion at the doxies. When Fred doesn’t say anything as he starts to throw the stunned doxies in a bucket, George continues. “You very clearly have feeling for Y/N that expand beyond friendship.”

Fred glares at his brother and throws a doxie in the bucket a little too hard. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Y/N is my friend. My best friend, just like how she’s your best friend, git. Or are you claiming to be in love with her as well?”

“If she’s only your best friend then why did it bother you when I sat in between you two just now, hm?” Fred looks away from George, urging the younger twin to continue. “And what about the other day at lunch? She was going to sit next to me, and you pulled her towards you. Why? And what about that thing with the ankle? Hm? What was that all about?”

Fred turns away from George, trying to hide his blush. “Friends can be affectionate with each other, George, “ he insists. “Just because you don’t feel the need to be affectionate with Y/N doesn’t mean that I have non-platonic feelings for her because I do.”

“Oh really?” George asks curiously. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I started to show more affection for Y/N then? The same way you do?”

“Not at all,” Fred responds through gritted teeth. He stomps over to George and shoves the bucket into his stomach. “Now finish up with this, I’m going to go revamp our nougat recipe so we can avoid another bleed out.”

George smirks as Fred’s back as he storms out, a plan forming in his head.

-

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Y/N whispers into George’s ear a few days later during breakfast.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Y/N,” George responds with a wink.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him. “You’re up to something, I know it.”

Ever since their conversation in the lounge, George has been acting weird. He’s been insisting that she sit next to him at meals, when she hangs out with Fred and George in their room he pulls her down onto his bed and the other day he even went as far as to hold her hand while they watched Ginny and Ron play Wizard’s Chess.

“I’m just being a good friend, Y/N. Friends can be affectionate towards each other, can’t they, Fred?” George asks, suddenly turning towards his twin.

Fred glares at George. “Mhm. Of course they can.”

George then looks back at Y/N looking far too pleased with himself. “See, Y/N? I’m just doing what normal friends do.”

“Well knock it off,” she scolds lightly. “It’s weird.”

“Oh, so it’s weird when I do it, but when Fred does it, it’s a normal part of friendship,” George muses. “Interesting.”

Y/N scoffs and stands up from the table. “I’m going to go read.” She gives one last look at George before she exits the kitchen and heads upstairs.

-

“Can I come in?” Fred asks softly, leaning against the entrance to Y/N’s room. He planned on giving her some space after what went down at breakfast, but when she didn’t come down for lunch Fred decided to seek her out.

Y/N is sitting on her bed leaning up against the headboard with a book on her lap. “Yeah, sure,” she responds, not even looking up at Fred.

Fred sighs and comes to sit down next to Y/N. He leaves a small gap in between them and resists his urge to put his arm around her. “What’s going on with you? I’ve never seen you cross at George.”

“He’s just being an idiot,” she says, slamming her book shut and tossing it aside. “He’s taking the mickey out of me after a conversation we had the other day.”

Fred hums, nudging Y/N’s foot with his. “That would explain his odd behavior over the last few days. He’s been keeping you all to himself, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Y/N blushes and punches his thigh lightly. “You know I’m just across the hall from you, right? You could have come in at any time to see me.”

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. Fred bites his lip. “Must have been some conversation to get you both so worked up.”

“It was stupid honestly,” Y/N says with a shrug, trying to seem casual. “I just let him get to me and I shouldn’t have.”

“Yea, I got a bit stroppy at him the other day as well. That’s why he’s so quiet, he’s figuring out how to get in your head,” Fred muses with a laugh. “You’re alright though, yeah?”

Y/N nods, bumping their shoulders together. “Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“Good, now I won’t feel bad about doing this.”

Before Y/N can ask what Fred’s talking about, she’s being smacked in the head by a pillow. “Oh, it is on, Weasley!” she shouts, grabbing her own pillow.

They spend a few minutes hitting at each other, both of them laughing like crazy. Y/N manages to knock Fred’s pillow out of his hands as she lands a hit to his chest and Fred’s hands immediately fly to her sides and he starts to tickle her as a distraction. As she tries to wiggle away from him, Fred takes one hand away and knocks her own pillow to the ground.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” Y/N giggles, trying to catch her breath. Fred is hovering over her, a cheeky grin on his face. He brings a hand up to brush her hair out of her face, and Y/N tries to ignore the tingles that roll down her spine at his delicate touch. She’s suddenly very aware of Fred’s weight on top of her and a pink blush starts to creep up her neck.

“Oi! Lovebirds!” Ginny shouts, a laugh falling from her lips when Fred nearly falls off of Y/N’s bed as he tries to get up.

“What, Gin?” Fred runs a hand through his hair, trying to act casual.

“Mum needs help getting rid of some creature stuck under a bed upstairs, if you’re not too busy here,” she chuckles, gesturing towards Y/N.

Fred nods and shoots a grin at Y/N. “See ya later.” Fred heads out of her room, shoving Ginny as he goes.

-

“Damn,” Y/N mutters to herself. She was trying to tiptoe down into the kitchen to grab a snack before dinner, but the door to the stairwell is shut tightly. “Stupid Order.” She’s about to turn around and head back upstairs, when she hears some noise coming from the sitting room.

“Are you two playing Wizard’s Chess?” she asks in surprise. When she first entered the sitting room, she wasn’t sure what to expect, but Y/N certainly didn’t think it would be Fred and George sitting on either side of the coffee table, with Ron’s Wizard Chess board between them.

George rolls his eyes as one of his pieces moves across the board. “Don’t act so shocked, Y/N. Contrary to popular belief Fred and I in fact have brains and we use them from time to time.”

“I’m not shocked because you’re doing something that involves thinking,” she chides as she takes a seat on the sofa. “I’m shocked because you’re doing something quiet and innocent.” Fred leans back against Y/N’s legs, and his left hand winds around her left ankle. “Figured you two were up in your room working on those extendible ears again.”

Fred huffs as one of his pieces gets destroyed by one of George’s. “We were, ‘til Mum walked in on us and confiscated it. She’s going to Kings Cross after dinner to pick up Hermione, so we’re just killing time until we can go and nick it back.”

“And your nosebleed nougats? You figured that one out?” Y/N asks, starting to run her hands through Fred’s hair.

“Yup, turns out we weren’t using enough Billywig Sting Slime in the antidote candy, so it wasn’t strong enough to stop the bleeding,” George responds, not even bothering to look up at her.

Y/N groans. “You guys are boring. I’m going back to my room.” She moves to stand up, but Fred tightens his grip on her ankle.

“No,” he coos. “Stay, please.” Fred tilts his head back so he can pout up at Y/N. “We’ll be more entertaining, I promise.”

“Yeah, this game is over anyway,” George says with a grin. “Checkmate.”

Fred groans as his final piece falls. “I’ll get you next time.”

“Yeah sure you will,” George laughs. “Moving on to more exciting things, someone’s birthday is coming up.”

“That’s right! In just a few weeks little Y/N will finally be the big 17,” Fred teases, squeezing her ankle again.

Y/N kicks at him lightly. “Oh, shove off, I’m only a few months younger than you lot.”

“But we’re still older than you, and that’s what matters,” George teases. “So, what do you wanna do for your birthday?”

Y/N shrugs, she honestly hadn’t even thought about it. Her and Remus never really made a big deal about her birthday. They’d pick up some takeout from a muggle restaurant and later in the evening they’d have cake and she’d open up her presents. It was never anything special, and Y/N was fine with that.

“Just figured we’d do the usual, if I’m honest. Dinner, cake, some presents. Nothing crazy,” she responds a moment later.

Fred frowns up at her. “That’s it?”

“Figured you’d do something big; a young witch only turns 17 once ya know,” George says.

Y/N nods. “Yeah, that’s what I always do. Why would this year be any different?”

“I don’t know, maybe because your two best friends in the whole world are here to celebrate it with you?,” Fred teases.

“And your father is too,” Sirius says, causing all three of them to turn and look at him.

“Blimey dad, you scared me. How long have you been standing there?”

Sirius smiles at Y/N and steps farther into the room, his forearms resting on the back of the sofa. “Just a few minutes, the Order meeting just got out.”

Y/N can hear shuffling as people head past the sitting room towards the entrance of Grimmauld Place. “Anything exciting happening?” she asks hopefully.

Despite the fact that Fred and George have already reached adulthood in the Wizarding World and Y/N’s 17thbirthday was only a few weeks away, none of them had been allowed to join the order or attend meetings. Y/N had begged Remus to let her join not too long after summer started, and he had firmly put his foot down. Fred and George had managed to get their extendible ears up and running for them to eavesdrop on the meetings, but everything said ended up translated into Spanish.

“You know as much as I would like to share that information with all of you,” Sirius says slowly, looking from Y/N to the twins. “I can’t. For one it is classified information per Dumbledore’s orders,” Sirius rolls his eyes. “And two, your mother will have my head and mount it on the wall if I say anything to you boys.”

Y/N groans. “This is such bullshit. We’re old enough to be considered adults and yet we’re not allowed to make decisions for ourselves.”

“Why haven’t you joined the order?” Fred asks, squeezing Y/N’s ankle so she’ll look down at him. “Obviously George and I can’t because of Mum but why haven’t you? Sirius is clearly fine with it.”

“Because Remus said no,” she explains with an eyeroll, as if the answer is obvious. Y/N can hear Sirius shift uncomfortably behind her.

“And? Sirius is your dad. That’s got to count for something,” George points out.

Y/N frowns, she honestly hadn’t even thought about that. Sirius is her dad, and Remus may have been the one who raised her, but he’s not her dad. Y/N loved growing up with Remus, and she’s thankful that he sacrificed so much of his life so that she could be raised by someone who loved her and cared about her wellbeing. But Sirius is free from Azkaban now and they’re living under the same roof. Why shouldn’t Sirius be the one making her decisions?

“Makes sense to me,” Sirius says. “So, Y/N, you have my blessing. If you want to join the Order once you turn 17, then do it. You’re right. In the eyes of the ministry you become an adult in a few weeks, and you should be the one making your decisions.”

Y/N smiles up at her dad. “Guess this birthday will be a bit different than normal.”

-

“So, I’ve been trying to figure out what to get you for your birthday,” Fred muses as he comes to sit on the edge of Y/N’s bed.

Y/N resists her urge to pull him closer, instead choosing to nudge his side with her foot in the hopes that he’ll grab her ankle again. As weird of a gesture it might be, Y/N actually really enjoys it. “Is that why I’ve barely seen you? Too busy thinking?” she teases, a hint of seriousness in her voice.

Once Hermione arrived at Grimmauld Place it seemed like Molly was kicked into overdrive. She had them working like crazy to get the house cleaned and free of the magical pests that had taken residence in the empty house. Any free time they had Fred and George spent locked up in their room, meaning Y/N has only seen them at meals for the past week.

“Aw, did you miss me?” he asks playfully, his hand winding around her ankle. “George and I have just been busy is all. We’ve finally got the extendible ears transmitting in English, and we managed to get the Fainting Fancies to taste like caramel instead of ear wax.”

“That’s good, I guess,” she mumbles.

Fred squeezes her ankle lightly. “Oh, come on don’t be like that. You’re still my best girl.”

“You could have at least invited me to join,” Y/N says, trying to keep from smiling at their contact.

“Hey, I wanted to invite you in,” Fred says defensively. “But George kept spouting about how I get distracted when you help us, and we never end up getting anything done so he wouldn’t let me.” Fred is blushing like crazy and Y/N can’t help but smile.

“I’m just messing with you,” she chuckles, her stomach full of butterflies. “So, you’ve been thinking about what to get me, hm? Any ideas?”

“Oh loads,” Fred says, his thumb starting to rub circles on her ankle. “But nothing seems quite right.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Just get me what you do every year. A card that explodes and scares the shit out of me and a chocolate frog.”

Fred shakes his head. “No, it needs to be something, special. Your birthday gift to me this year was special, so I need to do something even better.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Y/N says softly, looking away from Fred. Fred and George had taken advantage of the Triwizard Tournament and had spent the days leading up to each task taking bets and sacking away the money they made for their shop. Y/N knew that Fred wouldn’t straight up take any money from her, so she had gifted him a Galleon on his birthday, insisting that it was an investment in what she knew would be a successful business.

“Yes, it was,” he insists, pinching her ankle so she’ll look up at him. “Most everyone thinks we’re mental for putting everything we have into something that may never be successful, except for you. You’ve always believed in George and I, since the first prank we ever pulled. So yeah, maybe it was just a Galleon, but it was the meaning behind it that made it special.”

“Okay, no need to be so mushy,” she teases, trying to ignore the feeling Fred’s words give her. Fred is your friend she reminds herself. It’s normal for friends to say that kind of stuff to each other. And it’s normal to feel lightheaded when they do.

Fred laughs. “Fine, don’t take my compliment. I’m still going to do something special for your birthday. Whether you think you deserve it or not.” Fred squeezes her ankle again before standing up. “Alright I’ve gotta get back to George, I was only supposed to be going to the toilet.”

Y/N lays back against her pillows as Fred leaves her room, a dopey smile on her face as she tries to deny the fact that George may have been right all along.

-

Y/N watches as Fred shuffles the stack of cards, looking far too pleased with himself. Since their conversation in her room the other night, Fred has been making more of an effort to spend time with Y/N. They’ve been playing exploding snap with Ron and George for the past 45 minutes, and Fred has somehow managed to win every game.

“Take a picture, Y/N, it’ll last longer,” Fred teases, bringing Y/N out of her thoughts.

“Don’t know why anyone would want a picture of your ugly mug,” Ron pipes up, causing Y/N to laugh.

Fred hits Ron upside the head. “I don’t see anyone fawning over you either, git. Y/N’s been staring for a good five minutes, clearly she’s entranced by my beauty.”

“Oh, in your dreams, Weasley. I’m keeping an eye on you, there’s no way you’ve been winning by pure luck. You’re up to something and I’m going to figure it out,” she says, sticking her tongue out at him.

Fred winks at her. “Sure sure, whatever you say, dear.”

“Just deal the damn cards,” George groans, clearly annoyed by their antics. “Flirt with each other later.”

Y/N watches as Fred deals the cards to them all, trying to detect any signs of deception. She frowns when nothing appears to be out of order. They play normally for a few minutes, but Y/N’s suspicion that Fred is cheating returns as he quickly pulls ahead.

“How? How are you doing it?” Y/N asks 20 minutes later as Fred celebrates another win.

“I told you, I’m not cheating. It’s okay to be jealous of my success, Y/N. You’ll get better the more you play,” Fred teases with a wink.

Y/N groans. When Fred goes to grab the cards to shuffle again, Y/N slaps her hand on top of them. “If you’re not cheating then you won’t mind if I shuffle this time,” she smirks. Fred sputters as he tries to think of a reason why Y/N shouldn’t shuffle. “I knew it! You’re charming the cards aren’t you?”

“No, of course not,” Fred says quickly, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I knew it!” Y/N shouts. “You’re a dead man, Fred Weasley!”

Fred gets up and runs around the room, Y/N following close behind him. Y/N manages to catch up and she jumps on his back, Fred’s hands automatically gripping her thighs, so she doesn’t fall.

“Do I even want to know?” Hermione asks as she steps into the room.

Fred has thrown Y/N onto the couch and is tickling her mercilessly, while George and Ron look on in disgust.

George shakes his head. “No, probably not.”

-

“There’s the birthday girl,” Sirius says with a smile as Y/N enters the kitchen. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, dad,” Y/N says as Sirius envelops her in a hug.

She takes a seat next to Fred when they part, a blush forming on her cheeks when he puts his arm around her and pulls her into his side. “Good morning to you too, doofus,” she teases, piling some pancakes on her plate.

“How does it feel to be an old woman?” Fred teases, causing George to laugh.

“I can’t believe our little Y/N is already so grown up,” George says playfully, pretending to wipe away a tear.

Y/N rolls her eyes as she drowns her pancakes in syrup. “You’re both insufferable, do you know that?”

Remus enters the kitchen then, a large smile on his face. “Didn’t expect to see you up so early.” He pauses behind Y/N to ruffle her hair and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

“Thanks Remus,” she says, flicking Fred in the ear as he laughs.

“I can’t believe you’re 17 already. Seems like just yesterday your mother was laying on the beach refusing to believe she was in labor,” Sirius muses with a smile as Remus sits down.

Remus chuckles. “I remember that. I think you sent me 15 owls in the span of 45 minutes.”

“Well I was in full on panic mode, Moony. I thought Marlene was going to give birth right in the sand!”

Y/N feels like her cheeks are on fire as Fred and George snicker to themselves. “Okay, can we please talk about something that isn’t my birth? Literally anything else I’m begging.”

“Potty training, then? Because boy do I have some stories about that,” Remus teases, a laugh falling from his lips as Y/N chucks a grape at his head. “I’m only joking, no need to start a food fight.”

The kitchen starts to fill up then as everyone starts to wake up, and Y/N is thankful that all of the heat is off of her. Y/N looks around as everyone takes a seat at the table and starts to each, idle conversations popping up all around. Y/N can’t remember a time when she felt this content. Nearly all the people she cares about are sitting around the same table, it’s like every wish she’s ever made on a birthday cake has come true.

“So, Y/N, now that you’re 17 are you going to join the Order?” Ginny asks excitedly.

Before Y/N has a chance to respond Remus chuckles. “Of course not, she’s still in school. That’s the rule, no underage wizards and no wizards that are still in school.”

“That’s not the Order’s rule,” Y/N points out as she frowns. “That’s Molly’s rule for Fred and George. I no longer have the trace and I can do magic outside of school. Therefore, I’m joining the Order.”

Remus gives her a look. “Even so we talked about this at the beginning of summer. I said no, end of story.”

Y/N puts her fork down. “No, not end of story. I was 16 at the beginning of summer, now I’m 17. I can make my own choices. And besides, Sirius said it was okay.”

“Sirius’ opinion has no bearing on the matter. I told you that you’re too young to join the Order and that’s final,” Remus scolds.

“And why does my opinion have no bearing, Remus?” Sirius asks firmly. “Last I checked Y/N is my daughter, not yours.”

The air in the room is tense, and everyone looks around, trying not to pay too much attention to the exchange between Sirius and Remus.

“She might as well be. It’s not like I haven’t sacrificed the past 15 years of my life to raise her or anything since you got yourself tossed in Azkaban,” Remus responds coldly.

Y/N stands up suddenly and everyone turns to look at her. “Sorry that I was such a burden on your life, Remus. No need to worry, I’m 17 now and I can take care of myself. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you any longer.”

With that Y/N turns on her heel and stomps out of the kitchen, a few stray tears streaming down her face.

-

“Go away,” Y/N shouts at whoever is knocking at her door. She’s lying on her side in bed, her body curled around a pillow that she’s hugging to her chest.

“Please let me in, Y/N,” Fred pleads.

Y/N sits up and wipes away the few stray tears still running down her cheeks. With a wave of her wand the door unlocks. “Fine, come in.”

Fred pushes the door open and slowly comes in, one hand behind his back. He bites his lip as shuts the door behind him, his eyes focused on Y/N. “Are you alright?” he asks softly as he takes a seat down next to her.

“Do I look alright?” she asks, gesturing towards her disheveled appearance.

Fred smiles at her. “I dunno, you look just as beautiful as you always do”

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better,” she says lamely, lightly shoving Fred’s shoulder.

“As if,” Fred scoffs. “You always look beautiful to me, Y/N. Even after you dove headfirst into that snowbank while sledding 2nd year.”

Y/N glares at Fred, but she can’t help but smile as well. “Okay fine, I’m smiling. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Fred teases with a wink. He pauses, reaching out to grab Y/N’s hand with his free one. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice serious. “That was, something back there.”

Y/N shrugs, squeezing Fred’s hand. “I always forget how young Remus was when I fell into his lap. I mean he was only 4 years older than we are now and suddenly he was responsible for a toddler than wasn’t even his. I know he gave up a lot to take care of me but hearing him say it like that,” Y/N’s voice cracks as tears well up in her eyes again. “It makes me feel, I dunno, bad. Like a burden.”

“Hey, now, I’ll have none of that,” he says softly, wiping away the few tears that stream down her cheeks. “First of all, you have nothing to feel bad about. It’s not your fault that Remus chose to bring you up. And second of all, honestly, love I don’t think he meant a word of what he said. He looked so awful after you left, he was really broken up about it.”

Y/N sniffles. “Really?” When Fred nods she takes a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have pushed it either. I was kind of being a brat,” she admits, sticking her tongue out at Fred when he nods in agreement. “I should go apologize.”

Y/N moves to get up, but Fred tightens his grip on her hand. “Wait, not yet.”

“What now?” Y/N groans, squeezing his hand back to let him know she’s only kidding.

“I know it’s a little too early for presents but,” he says as his other hands comes from behind his back. There’s a medium sized black box in his hand, with a big red bow right in the middle. “I can’t wait any longer to give it to you and I figured it’d make you feel better.”

“Fred,” Y/N gasps, a pink blush appearing on her cheeks to match the one on Fred’s. “I told you just to get me a chocolate frog.”

“And I told you I was going to get you something special,” he responds cheekily. He pushes the box into her hand. “Open it.”

Y/N releases Fred hand so she can open the box, her eyes not leaving his. When Fred gives her a nod of encouragement she looks down at the box, a small gasp leaving her lips. “Oh Fred.”

Inside the box is a delicate silver chain, with a silver charm in the shape of an F hanging from it. Y/N’s fingers ghost over the chain lightly, trying to find the right words to express how much she loves it. Emotions are bubbling up in her mouth, threatening to spill out everywhere and her heart is fluttering in her chest.

“Do you like it?” Fred asks nervously.

“Like it?” Y/N asks as she looks back up at Fred. “I love it Fred, it’s gorgeous. It was worth all the thinking you put into it, it’s perfect.”

Fred smiles at Y/N. “Well I settled on this particular piece of jewelry because I was able to get a matching one pretty easily.” Y/N gives Fred a look of confusion, and he chuckles as he reaches a hand into the collar of his shirt. He pulls out a necklace that looks identical to the one in Y/N’s hand, but the charm that hangs off of it is the first letter of her name.

“I charmed them, so when you touch the F on your necklace, the letter on mine warms up and when I touch the letter on mine, the F on yours does the same. That way whenever I’m thinking of you or you’re thinking of me, we can touch our charms and let the other know,” he explains softly.

“Fred that,” Y/N swallows thickly. “That is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Fred clears his throat and grabs Y/N’s hand again. “It’s looking more and more like George and I aren’t going to be completing our final year at Hogwarts.” Y/N goes to say something, but Fred puts a hand up to stop her. “With the money that we made last year and the money that Harry gave us from the Triwizard tournament we were able to rent out a place in Diagon Alley. We’re still gonna start the year, it’ll give us time to test our products and start to build up a customer base, but we already decided that we’re not going to finish the year.”

Fred releases Y/N’s hand so he can cup her cheek instead. “And I can’t leave you there at Hogwarts without there being some way for me to tell you when I’m thinking of you. Because Y/N you are constantly on my mind. You are the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night. You’re my everything. You’re my voice of reason, you’re my source of comfort, you’re my best friend and,” Fred pauses, taking a deep breath. “And you’re the love of my life.”

“Fred,” Y/N breaths.

Y/N is so overwhelmed with emotion that she can’t find the words to express everything that Fred means to her, so she does the next best thing. Y/N tentatively leans forward and lightly brushes her lips against Fred’s. Taking the hint, Fred presses their lips together in a heated kiss. Their lips move together softly, and when Fred pulls away Y/N feels lightheaded.

“I love you,” she whispers softly, kissing Fred again briefly. “At some point you became so much more than my best friend and I tried to deny it for so long, in case you didn’t feel the same. But Merlin, Fred. I am stupid, stupid in love with you.”

Fred chuckles and presses a peck to Y/N’s lips. “Thank Merlin George was right, otherwise I would have just mucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Fred pauses, taking the necklace out of its’ box. “Just don’t tell him I said that.”

“And give him the satisfaction of being right? Never,” she says with a chuckle. Y/N moves her hair out of the way so Fred can clasp the necklace around her neck. The chain is cold, and it sends a shiver down her spine. “Well, let’s see if it works then.”

“Do you doubt my abilities?” Fred teases.

As Fred grabs a hold the charm on his necklace, the F on Y/N’s starts to warm up, causing goosebumps to pop up on her chest. “Not in the slightest,” she assures, grabbing a hold of the F. Fred leans forward and presses their lips together again, both of them still desperately dripping their charms.

“To be honest with you,” George says from the doorway, looking up at Remus and Sirius. “I don’t think she’s thinking about what happened at breakfast.

Y/N and Fred laugh into each other’s mouths as Y/N fumbles around for her wand. With a wave the door slams shut. “Oh yea, there are definitely perks to being 17,” she says, pulling away from Fred’s mouth. When Fred gives her a questioning look she waves her wand again.

“What did you just cast?” he asks, allowing Y/N to pull him on top of her as she lays back on her bed.

She grins up at him, her hands gripping his neck. “A silencing charm.”

Fred presses their lips together hotly, thinking of all the non-platonic things he wants to do to Y/N.

[nah-she-didnt]

Inheritance

Knitting may be a less physically painful hobby than sewing, Lily thought bitterly as she unraveled her work for the third time in an hour, but it was no less frustrating. True, her fingers bled less while knitting than they did during her needlepoint phase. She’d jabbed herself more times than she could count last time she tried to embroidered a sad-looking flower onto the corner of her least favorite pillowcase. No, knitting certainly yielded less bloodshed than sewing, but it didn’t come without a price.

“Ouch!” Lily cried as she poked her humungous stomach once again with the end of the long, metal knitting needle. She could never get used to her belly, which seemed to swell more and more every day. “Damn- stupid-” She growled with frustration, crumpled up the ruined baby jumper, and hurled the bundle of yarn and needles across the room.

Lily watched the bundle soar through the air as her chest heaved slightly from her outburst. She rubbed absentmindedly at the spot where she’d impaled herself on the needle. Couldn’t break the skin, she reminded herself, but she still bruised like a peach. Little purple bruises all over your stomach weren’t typically a comforting sight in the ninth month of pregnancy.

Eight months. She shuddered a bit at the thought. Eight months of being sick, of stretching and expanding, of reminding herself that she was not a selfish cow for bringing a child into the world in the middle of a war.

For bringing this child into the world.

She groaned as she leaned forward to brace herself to stand. With a huge effort, she was able to push to her feet and shuffle over to retrieve her knitting. Won’t be long now, she thought to herself as she settled back into her spot on the couch to finish her work, stop messing around and get this done before he gets here or you'll never finish.

He.

Her heart sunk at the thought. It had been difficult to hide her disappointment when she’d heard her baby was male. She remembered how James had smiled softly at the scan and squeezed her hand. “A boy,” he’d whispered to her, “a little boy.”

She’d smiled and squeezed his hand right back. A boy.

Lily remembered the moment perfectly, how she’d fallen deep into that all-consuming fog. It was official, at least part of the prophecy was true after all. A boy, born at the end of July...

Three days. That’s all she needed. Three days until the sticky summer days of August. She would distract herself with this horrid jumper for three whole days, and then the baby could come whenever he pleased.

“Having fun?”

Lily jumped in surprise, causing her once again to drop a stitch. “Git,” she grumbled as she squinted down at the yarn, trying desperately to recover her mistake, “can’t you make a noise once in a while? You’ll startle me into early labor.”

James grinned and hopped over the back of the couch, landing next to her with a soft thwump.

“Whatcha got there? Is it a…” he regarded her lumpy, misshapen jumper, “a bib?”

“Very funny,” she snapped, refusing to look at him as she knitted, then purled, then knitted again.

“I’m sorry,” he grinned, clearly trying not to laugh, “I know it’s a jumper. Why the mad rush to finish, anyway?”

“I want it to be ready in time,” she said through teeth gritted in concentration, “he’s going to be here soon.”

“Right.”

Lily waited. She’d known James long enough to know when he was holding back. She turned her head slowly and fixed him with a glare. “What? Go on, spit it out.”

James had long grown used to Lily’s hormonal bitchiness. Nevertheless, he looked unsure of how to proceed without getting his head ripped off. “Well,” he sighed, eyeing the jumper hesitantly, “it’s just that, the jumper’s a bit small, don’t you think? I mean, won’t he be a bit big by the time it’s cold enough outside to wear?”

Lily felt the heat rise in her cheeks. This was absolutely the last thing she needed to hear right now. “I don’t think so. He’s a baby, how big can they be?”

“Well,” James said carefully, “let’s see. It’ll get chilly enough for jumpers by, I dunno, October? So he’ll be three months? He might have some meat on him by then if he’s anything like me when I was a baby.”

“No,” Lily shook her head and returned to her work. Knit. Purl. Knit. Purl. Purl again. “He’d be two months. Two.”

James sighed. “Lil-”

“If he’s born in August he’ll be two months in October.”

“We have to be prepared for the wo-”

“No.” Lily said the word quietly, but with a danger she hadn’t realized she possessed.

James held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. Ignore me. I didn’t mean-”

“He’ll be tiny,” Lily said into her hands. Knit. Purl. Dropped stitch. Damn. “Tiny enough to fit into this sweater. And he’ll be perfect. And safe and healthy and loved.” Another stitch dropped. It was getting hard to see her work through her tears.

“Lily,” James said softly as he reached for her hands. He brought the needles slowly down from her face and tucked his hand over hers in her lap. “Let’s take a break for a moment, alright?”

She nodded. She could have wrestled her hand from under his to wipe the tears from her cheek, but she let them fall freely. James wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled him into her chest.

They stayed that way for a while, Lily crying silently into James’ chest. After a while, she became aware of his own warm tears on her hair. She wondered dully if he was thinking what she was thinking. What have we done?

“Why the knitting?” James murmured as he ran a hand up and down her arm comfortingly, “why the rush?”

Lily sniffed. She hadn’t expected the question, and she suddenly found she didn’t have an answer. Knitting just seemed like a thing to do for your baby. “I just want him to have something of mine. Something to...remember me by.”

It was a mark of the bond between them that James did not protest at her words. He knew more than anyone how their stories could end. How little time they might have with their son.

“He’s going to love it. But you know,” James nudged her chin gently with his forefinger so that she looked up into his face. His cheeks were still blotchy from his tears, but a real smile shone on his lips. “You know he’s going to have your eyes. How could he not? That’s something he could never get from anyone else.”

Lily smiled too. She tried to picture her own green eyes looking back up at her from a bundle of blankets in her arms. Her eyes, maybe James’ hair. It was a lovely picture.

“Three days,” she leaned up and kissed James gently on the lips, “let’s get through the next three days. We’ll have plenty to worry about when he arrives and I won’t have time to finish this stupid jumper.”

James laughed. He stood from the couch, stretching his arms above his head as he went. “He’s going to love the sweater, Lil. Who knows, maybe he’ll give it to his own baby someday.”

“Oh, god,” Lily murmured as she resumed her work with a renewed intensity, “don’t say that. He’ll need something nicer than this for his own kids, this one’s shite.”

---

“I can’t believe you didn’t let me at the baby boxes first,” Ginny grumbled as she poured through a trunk of useless artifacts from her and her brothers’ infancies. A torn sweater here, a lone bootie there. A Babbity Rabbity book that was so worn from years of use that it tore at the binding. Ten years and seven children later, even the hardiest hand-me-downs could fall apart. “Bill got all the good stuff for Vic.”

“Well, dear,” her mother sighed as she levitated yet another trunk onto the kitchen table, “he was the first in the family to have children, after all.”

“It’s not like Fluer lets her kids wear any of our old jumpers,” Ginny muttered bitterly, “it isn’t from Paris, so of course it’s all rubbish.”

“What about this, Ginny?” Hermione called from her spot across the table. She’d spotted a dusty, but beautiful, mobile made up of stars and whirling planets folded up in the corner of a trunk. Small silver chimes hung from the top of the mobile which could almost certainly be charmed to play softly as the baby slept below. “This is lovely, isn’t it?”

Ginny, despite her determination to be a grumpy, hormone-filled nightmare today, eyed the mobile with interest. “It is nice.”

“Hmm,” her mother hummed as she dug through a bag of old baby socks, looking for a matching pair, “I suppose I didn’t let all the good stuff go to your brother after all, then?”

Ginny huffed as she accepted the mobile from Hermione and gingerly placed it into her bag. “Fine. Maybe not. But he’s still always been your favorite child.”

“What about me, then?” Ron called as he strode into the room, Harry at his side.

Ginny threw a faded plush snitch at his head, which he caught easily. “Not you, git. Bill.”

“Oh, true,” Ron shrugged as he leaned down to kiss Hermione on the cheek. By the time they got married and had kids of their own, Ginny thought savagely, there would surely be nothing usable left in the trunks. This was her only consolation.

“Gin, it’s alright. We don’t need anything from here,” Harry said reasonably as he peered into the trunk with interest. “Of course, Molly, it’s all lovely. But we’re buying loads of stuff for the baby, he’ll be just fine.”

“But still!” Ginny protested as she dug further into the trunk, “I want the memories, you know? I want to pass something down to my kids. Something like...like this.”

At the very bottom of the trunk lay a tiny, perfectly folded Gryffindor jumper. No years of wear-and-tear, no moth holes or loose strings hanging from the sleeves. Her mother had even added a tiny lion to the front in perfect golden stitches against the crimson background. Ginny pulled the jumper gingerly from the trunk and ran the tips of her fingers along the ridiculously soft wool.

“Oh, Molly,” Hermione murmured in awe as she stared at the jumper in Ginny’s hands. “It’s beautiful.”

Her mother smiled softly. “I knit that jumper when I was pregnant with you, Ginny.” Her voice had grown hoarse, as if she was trying her best to keep the emotion at bay. “I wanted you to have something of your very own. You only wore it a few times before you got too big. It was silly, really, to spend so much time making something that you’d grow right out of, but I couldn’t help it.”

“No wonder we were all in Gryffindor,” Ron grinned, as he eyed the jumper, “you and dad have been priming us since birth.”

“Oh, hush,” her mother snapped at Ron, “you know we didn’t care, not really. After all, I was almost sure Percy would be in Ravenclaw when he first went to school, but then-”

“Harry?”

Hermione’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it stopped mum’s story at once.

Harry’s eyes were on the jumper in her hands, and they were wet. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared at the bundle of red and gold. He didn’t give any indication that he’d heard Hermione say his name.

Ginny felt her heart sink into her stomach. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“What?” Harry shook himself a bit as if coming out of a dream. He glanced around at all the eyes fixed on him. “Oh, sorry. I just thought- never mind. Being silly.” He ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, his chest still heaving slightly. The legs of his chair scraped loudly across the kitchen floor as he stood suddenly.

“Got to get some fresh air, excuse me,” and Harry practically bolted through the kitchen and through the back door.

Her mother gazed sadly after him. “Oh dear, I should have thought before bringing all this out. I hope he’s not too upset.”

“It’s alright mum,” Ginny patted her mother’s arm gently, “he’ll be fine. I’ll go talk to him.”

Ginny crossed over to the back door and eased her way through it. How on earth had her mother, a woman who had been pregnant at least seven times, been able to live in a house with such tiny doorways? She waddled down the porch and into the back garden towards her husband’s form.

It was difficult to see him in the early evening light, but she did not like the look of the way his shoulders slumped forward where he stood.

“Hey,” she breathed as she reached Harry. She could tell he’d been crying by the way his breath caught in his throat with each inhale. The sound made her feel faintly sick. “What happened in there?”

Harry shook his head sharply. “Nothing. Being stupid, that’s all.”

“It’s not stupid,” she took his hand in hers and gripped it tight. “Having a baby is scary. I get it. I don’t have any less faith in you for being scared.”

“It’s not that,” he whipped around to look at her, his eyes alight with adrenaline. “I’m not scared. I’m going to protect our baby with every breath I have left in me, I promise you that, Ginny.”

She smiled patted his hand gently. He had these moments every now and then, the wild sense of panic that always preceded a fight. She couldn’t blame him exactly, given everything he’d lost, but she was worried for him. “I know you will. I will, too.”

Harry nodded vigorously and turned back to the garden. She could feel his body relaxing slightly, could sense some of the panic recede from his muscles and release through his exhale.

“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Harry breathed as he brought their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, “it was that damned tiny jumper. It was unnaturally small. I don’t remember Teddy being that small, do you?”

Ginny laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder. The sun was really setting now, casting the entire yard in a soft orange glow. Somewhere in the distance, a family of gnomes grumbled to each other as they dug through her mother’s tomato patch. “He was never that small, though I suppose Teddy was a bit of a fat baby.”

Harry snorted. “I’m telling him you said that.”

“Don’t!” Ginny swatted at him playfully, “don’t you dare!”

He just laughed again and pulled her close against his chest, the back of her head resting comfortably against him.

“It is nice, though,” he sighed, “the idea of passing something down to your kids. Giving them a little part of you. I wish I’d had more of my parents’ things.”

Ginny nodded slowly. She couldn’t imagine a childhood without hand-me-downs. A little bit of history in every toy, every piece of clothing. “Perhaps we can make up for it. Create some new traditions.”

“Yeah?” She could hear him grinning through the word. “How would we do that?”

Ginny sighed, a little horrified with herself at what she was about to say.

“Well, we could always ask my mother to give us knitting lessons.”

Really. Married, pregnant, and finally letting her mother teach her to knit after years of protestation. What had her life come to?

[freddie-weaselbee]

April Fools//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Silly pranks and a little angst, a tiny bit of small language

Summary: April 1st was a special day for many reasons, and it’s about to get a whole lot more special once Fred asks an important question.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Here’s a special fic for the twins birthday, as well as April Fools’ Day!  Fourth fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley. 

~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~   ~Masterlist~

Message me to join the taglist!

March 31, 1995

For the third time that night, Angelina Johnson rolled her eyes at you and hit you with her pillow. Hard. So hard that you ended up toppling off of your bed due to the excited, unbalanced position you were in, practically standing at the edge of your bed. 

“Angie!” you screamed from the floor, your smile cracking through the angry façade you were putting on. 

“Oh you deserved it Y/N!” your roommate yelled. “If I have to hear you talk about Fred for one more minute I swear...”

“I second that,” said Alicia Spinnet from her bed, rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time that night. “Just grow a pair and ask him out already!”

 “You’re crazy, absolutely insane,” you replied, climbing back onto your sheets only to be knocked down by your friend once again. 

 “Ok I swear I’m done now,” Angelina said through her giggles. “But Alicia’s right. It’s been two bloody years, why don’t you get up off your timid ass and actually do something? What could go wrong?”

 “What could go wrong?” 

 Alicia groaned at your incredulous tone, knowing exactly what Angelina had just started. She covered her ears with her pillow, hoping to drown out the next barrage of rapid fire words from your mouth.

 “Would you like the possibilities listed alphabetically or by order of significance?” you quipped, not giving either of the girls any time before you started again. “First of all, he would laugh at me. Then he’d realize how sad it was that I thought I actually had a chance with him and he’d make fun of me to the entire school. And you know that Fred can’t keep his damn mouth shut!”

 The girls murmured in agreement, knowing firsthand to never tell Fred any secrets unless they wanted the entire student body and population of England to know as well.

 “So he’d tell everyone,” you continued, “and they’d all make fun of me and talk about me behind my back. ‘Oh there goes poor Y/N, she’s so sad that she thought that the hottest guy in school would be interested in her! What a stupid stupid girl.’”

 “I personally think his brother is hotter, but to each his own,” Angelina murmured.

 “Bloody hell they’re identical twins, they’re practically the same,” said Alicia.

 “They’re not the same,” you and Angelina replied in sync, turning to each other and giggling before you finished your rant.

 “Anyways, the whole school would think I’m a moron, all of Fred’s family would think I’m a moron, and I’d probably be a laughing stock at The Burrow and I’d be too embarrassed to spend another summer there with everyone making fun of me! So that is why I will not be confessing my feelings any time soon.”

 Your friends just sighed and rubbed their temples, used to hearing this kind of talk from you. 

 “You know you’re hot as fuck, right?” said Alicia, gesturing up and down and seeming to check you out.

 “I know that,” you replied confidently. Something about being friends with Alicia and Angelina had brought out your confidence and you knew your self worth, but not when it came to the love of your life. “But there’s plenty of girls here who are hotter and haven’t had their hair held back by him while they threw up their guts into the toilet.”

 Alicia choked on the drink she was sipping, remembering that party a few months ago. “Yeah, remind us not to let you have firewhisky again you lightweight.”

 You tossed your pillow at her, making her spill her drink and grumble in your direction. 

 “Alright if you won’t tell him, why don’t you hint at it and hope for him to make a move?” Angelina suggested. “His birthday’s tomorrow, what did you get him?”

 “I, umm, I didn’t have that much money, so I had to be more... creative about it.” You pulled a sweater from one of your drawers, a deep purple color with orange stitching along the sleeves and collar. “Molly taught me how to knit over the summer and I’ve been working on this ever since. Do you think he’ll like it?”

 “That is the sweetest thing ever, Y/N,” said Angelina. “And Fred doesn’t care about money or wealth, I’m sure he’ll love it. Trust me, give him this and flirt with him all day tomorrow and I’m sure he’ll get the hint.”

 “He hasn’t gotten it yet, and I’ve done nothing but flirt all year!”

 “Then flirt harder,” said Alicia. “Give it all you have, and if it doesn’t work out then he’s a good for nothing prick. That’s how I live my life,” she said shrugging.

 “Great advice, thanks,” you drawled. “But alright, I’ll try harder. Tomorrow’s gonna be a day to remember!”

 ------------------------------

 April 1, 1995

 You and your roommates slowly snuck out of your room the next morning, being as quiet as humanly possible. On a normal day you wouldn’t bother to be this careful, but today was not a normal day. It was April 1st, the twins’ birthday. Also know as their favorite day of the year, April Fools’ Day. 

 Alicia stubbed her toe on one of the steps and let out a small peep, making you and Angelina turn to her in horror. Your cover was blown. 

 “Well, well, well,” came a voice from down the stairs. “What do we have here?”

 You shoved Angelina in front of you, clutching the back of her uniform for dear life. “You go,” you whispered. “You’re the strongest.”

 “No,” she said quickly, “Alicia’s the fastest, she can outrun them and cause a distraction!”

 “You know I wouldn’t even make it out of the common room,” Alicia replied. “Y/N can go first, she can talk them out of doing anything.”

 “Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “Like that’s ever worked before. I ended up going to bed to find a giant snake my sheets.”

 “Well, someone has to go first!” Angelina hissed. 

 The three of you continued your argument in low voices, none of you wanting to be the first to face Fred and George's wrath. You were so caught up in your conversation that you didn’t even notice the figure behind you until they cleared their throat.

 You all screamed and you tripped over Angelina, causing you all to tumble down the few last stairs. The second you made it to the bottom, you felt a warm, gooey liquid dripping down your head. Reaching your hand up to touch it, you saw that it was a green goop that was now covering you and your friends. 

 Laughter erupted from both sides of you. The person who had been standing behind you, who you now realized was George, was holding Colin Creevey’s camera and snapping a picture. Fred, standing practically over top of you, was doubled over clutching his stomach from laughing so hard.

 You sighed and looked down, already defeated. “Happy birthday, Freddie.”

 “I think you mean,” he said through giggles, “happy April Fools’ Day!”

 Angelina and Alicia were shooting daggers at the twins, who were still laughing and snapping photos.

 “This makes quite the pretty picture, doesn’t it Freddie?” George asked, showing him the camera.

 “Ah, yes it does! Y/N, you look beautiful as ever darling, even covered in goo.”

 You put your hands out, expected for him to help you stand up. Once he hoisted you to your feet you threw your arms around him, wiping as much substance as you could onto his clothes. 

 “Hey!” he said, trying to escape your death grip. 

 “What?” you asked innocently. “Can’t a girl hug her friend on his birthday?” You emphasized your words by grabbing some goo from your hair and reaching up to ruffle his, spreading it through his ginger locks. 

 “You’re a handful, love,” he said, finally giving up on escaping the revenge. 

 “But you can handle me, can’t you?” You winked at him and let him go, turning around to see George pinned to the ground by Angelina, face covered in green. 

 “I give, I give! I’m sorry!” She got off of him and offered him a hand up. You looked around at everyone to see that you all were a mess, covered head to two in Fred and George’s prank. 

 “Well,” said Alicia, “this is not how I wanted my morning to go, but I didn’t expect anything less. I’m gonna go get changed.”

 “Me too,” said Angelina and George nodded as well, heading to their respective dorms. 

 This left only you and Fred. Your heart started pounding. How were you supposed to flirt even more than you usually did? Were you supposed to make a move, maybe confess your feelings?

“I, umm, I have your present upstairs,” you said finally. “It’s not very good, but I can go grab it for you now if you’d like. After I’m clean that is.”

He bumped your shoulder with his, making your heart beat even faster. “I’m sure I’ll adore it, love. And actually, I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course, what is it?”

Fred avoided eye contact, fidgeting with his messy uniform. “Umm, why don’t we hang out today and I can tell you then. We could maybe, go on a picnic for lunch? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

A large grin grew on your face, spreading slowly but surely. Maybe you didn’t have to be the one to make a move after all. “Of course I want to, Freddie! It’ll be fun.”

“Great!” he said relieved. “I’ll see you then.”

You nodded as he ran to catch up with George. As soon as he left the common room you nearly fell over, having to hold onto a wall to keep yourself up. You sprinted to your room, mind racing with exactly what you were going to wear this afternoon. 

------------------------------

“Hey, love,” Fred called from across the entrance hall. “You look great.”

You blushed a little, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and trying to subtly look him up and down. Fred had dressed a little nicer than usual for your picnic, which made you feel better about putting in so much effort yourself. 

He came over and grabbed your hand in his, linking your fingers together and pulling you out the door. You wished your hands weren’t so clammy, and you hoped that Fred couldn’t tell. 

He took you to a secluded part of the courtyard, the corner where most kids would go to make out. Was that what was happening? Did he want to kiss you?

Fred spread out a blanket and opened the picnic basket, containing both of your favorite foods. 

“Looks so good Freddie,” you said. “Snuck into the kitchen again, didn’t you?”

“What can I say,” he shrugged. “Guy’s gotta eat.”

“You said like Ron.”

“Don’t ever insult me like that again, woman, or I will never speak to you”

You rolled your eyes at him and leaned back on your elbows. “Having Fred Weasley actually leave me alone for five minutes? That would be absolutely horrible. What would I do, not being able to hear about your pranks and projects?”

He leaned forward to tickle your sides, making you flail around and kick him away. “You’d be so desperate for me back, you’d probably lock yourself in your room all day.”

“Oh I’m sure,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. 

The two of you continued to eat and talk, mostly about his plans for his birthday and how he was going to terrorize his mum once he got home for the summer because he could now legally do magic outside of Hogwarts. After what felt like forever of laughing and rolling around on the blanket and grass, your curiosity was finally getting the best of you. 

“Alright Fred, enough’s enough,” you said, turning partly serious. “Why did you ask me out here with you?”

Fred got nervous once again, grabbing some more food to shove in his mouth to buy him some time before answering. 

“I’m waiting. What, you wanted to ask me out but got too nervous? Huh, is that it?” You were completely joking, but Fred didn’t seem to correct you. He just turned to you and gave you a small nod, shocking you to your core. 

“What?” you asked, needing clarification. 

“Uh, well, Y/N, there’s something important I need to say.” He looked jumpy and excitable, but there was also a cocky gleam in his eye, which was always present with the boy. “I’m madly in love with you. I have been since we were 15, and I just needed to let you know. I want to hold you and kiss you and grow old with you, my darling princess. Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You sat there in complete surprise. This couldn’t be real, could it? Fred Weasley had loved you since you were 15? The tingles you always got when he said something to yo couldn’t compare to what you were feeling now.

Fred opened his mouth in a wide grin about to say something, when you cut him off with a hug. “Oh Freddie, you don’t understand how happy that makes me! I’ve loved you for forever, you’re perfect. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

You held him tighter, burying your face in his neck and soaking in the feeling of being Fred’s girlfriend. But Fred had a completely different feeling running through him. 

He made eye contact with George, who was hiding in the bushes with his camera ready. He mouthed a question but Fred just shook his head in confusion. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

You were supposed to laugh at him, become super uncomfortable. Fred knew that you only saw him as a friend and flirted with him jokingly. He’d never in a million years expect for you to confess your feelings back to him. 

He didn’t know what to do. You were just so open and vulnerable, confessing everything you’d been holding back. So, acting against George’s frantic suggestions, he completed the hug, resting his head on the top of yours.

What was he supposed to do? You were his best friend, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. How was he supposed to tell you, that this was all an April Fools?

Tag List: @famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

[free-pool-trash]

come off it - george weasley

i wrote this because i was bored and in my george feels :) if you know me irl no you dont

word count: 5k

warnings: swearing, y/n absolutely bullying draco 💓😌, angst at the start for 0.2 seconds, mentions of blood, umbridge being a bitch, kissing 😽 slytherin!reader

summary: george wants to break up just until you graduate to keep umbridge off your case but it comes out wrong. eventually you both agree to keep your relationship on the low until you can see each other at graduation <3 (im terrible at summaries)

this is my first time ever writing for hp so please let me know what you think, id love feedback <3 reblogs are so appreciated

let me know if you’d like more hp stuff

masterlist

(also i dont support jkr if i saw her on the street she’d need new kneecaps <3)

The silence was screaming, the room completely devoid of volume, and yet, you’d never heard anything quite so loud.

He never moved from his spot, perched on the arm of an old grandfather chair, his head hung and his hair blocking his eyes from view, hiding any chance you had of reading his expression.

Feeling suffocated by his lack of dialogue, you spoke up again, your voice nothing more than a whisper to be swallowed up by the silence, “So, that’s that then.”

The quiet in the room didn’t bother you so much after you heard the words that had slipped from your lips, you could find solace in the hollow silence. Relating it to your thundering heart, that was beating rapidly, but the thought that you no longer knew what it was beating for left you like the aforementioned silence; hollow.

“I’m sorry, love.” His voice, as smooth as ever, brought your thoughts back to the situation at hand. All you managed was the weak shake of your head, willing your wet eyes to dry out before you lost hold of what little dignity you had left.

How could you possibly cry? You wondered miserably.

If you had only listened to the whispers in the back of your mind, you’d have seen this coming, foolish girl. You scolded yourself mentally.

“Don’t be.” You told him simply. Regaining your composure long enough to make it to the exit of the room, you spared the boy one last glance, he was looking at you then, brown eyes cloudier than you’d ever seen them.

What would he have to be sad about? This had been his choice, after all.

With a steadying breath you left the room, uttering an almost pathetic, “Look after yourself, Georgie.”

Only when he was sure you were truly gone did he allow his tears to fall, he hadn’t wanted to end things with you, not really.

It was for the best though. Tensions were high in Hogwarts at the minute, with Umbridge’s take over of the school putting everyone on edge. George knew well enough that the pink sporting she devil wouldn’t take too kindly to the prestigious, pure-blooded, princess of Slytherin embroiled with the likes of him. A supposedly lowly Weasley. A blood traitor.

Of course, status never mattered to you, or to your family for that matter. But it mattered to the new headmistress and George couldn’t bear the idea of putting you on the wretched witches radar knowing that he and Fred would be leaving you before the end of term.

He hadn’t expected it to be so bloody hard though. He thought he’d breeze through it with the thought process of “it’s only temporary”, as he’d initially intended. His plans for a temporary reprieve were hushed the second he saw your heart shattering right before his eyes.

You should’ve known really, you can’t just break up with the girl you’ve been completely in love with since third year out of nowhere. Merlin, you’ve really done it this time, haven’t you? She must think you’re a right tosser.

He reprimanded, the words trapped in the confines of his muddled mind.

His sadness turned to anger as it dawned on him, he’d just let you go and for what? Merlin, his mother was going to kill him.

Molly Weasley absolutely adored you, George recalled the first time he’d introduced you to his family. You’d been so nervous, it wasn’t every day a Slytherin found themselves in the midst of mostly Gryffindors.

Of course, yourself and George were just friends at the time. Fred had been the one who had begged you to visit the burrow as a matter of fact.

George cringed at the thought of the letter he’d surely be getting from his mother when she got wind of what he’d just done.

Overcome with frustration, George lifted himself from the arm of the chair and began storming through the stone halls in search of you. The conversation, if you could even call it that, hadn’t gone the way he planned.

He’d planned to sit down with you, talk you through his thought process and then hopefully you’d promise each other to rekindle your love in six months after you graduated.

Obviously that’s not how it ended up going. He’d screwed it up completely, he’d frozen on the spot and suddenly he’d forgotten everything he had planned to say.

He spotted you then, sluggishly moving down the corridor, small sniffles emitted from your retreating form and George jogged to reach you.

His large hand grasped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks, “Wait. Please.” His voice was strained, pleading.

Inhaling shakily you turned to face him again, the redhead tried his best to ignore your red rimmed eyes as he could already feel his guilt eating him alive as he held your wrist.

You didn’t speak. Just looked at him expectantly.

Carefully, his hand slipped from your wrist to your own hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Can we talk?” You nodded wordlessly, allowing him to lead you wherever he intended to go.

The pair of you didn’t speak until you reached your destination. You found yourself standing in the privacy of the astronomy tower, hugging yourself to lessen the chill you felt when George released your hand, you stared at him expectantly, praying that you wouldn’t cry anymore.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.” He confessed while taking a calculated step closer to you, acutely aware of your habit of simply walking away if you felt as though you were being ridiculed. It was a characteristic that he loved about you, you didn’t take anyone’s shit, including his. Which is why he wanted to keep a close proximity, knowing that there was a very real possibility that he’d say the wrong thing and you’d tell him to shove it.

“First of all, I love you. I don’t want you thinking for a second that I don’t.” He couldn’t quite hold back his grimace as you shuddered and turned your face away, staring out at the view as opposed to at him.

With an aggressive sniff you blinked away the water forming in your eyes before meeting his gaze again, “Then what is this about then?” Your tone was demanding, the cold air making itself comfortable in your bones while you waited for an answer.

George took another step forward, the sound of your shaky voice sending a pang directly to his heart. Throwing caution to the wind, he grabbed hold of your arms, just above your elbows.

“I want to be with you more than anything, honest. But I can’t have you in Umbridge’s bad books because of me, especially when Fred and I will be gone in two weeks.” He tried his best to explain, his grip on you softening when he felt your body become less rigid, although you still shook slightly from the cold.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?” You chastised him weakly, your lips turning downward as you realised he was right. Umbridge had been on your case since she had arrived, with being the top student in her house, she didn’t take kindly to your “fraternisation with the likes of them”.

He let out a sigh, tugging you gently to his chest, his long arms wrapped around you tightly. “Because I’m a knobhead.”

His words had obviously been intended to get a laugh out of you and he was pleased to confirm that it had worked when he heard the soft giggle leaving your lips.

You gave his shoulder a halfhearted whack, “Yeah, you are.”

“Are you still breaking up with me?” You asked, voice a whisper, arms tightly around his waist, afraid if you loosened your grip he’d disappear.

George chuckled at that, “I was never breaking up with you, love.” His lips met the top of your head before he continued, “I just think we should keep a low profile for a bit.”

“I hate it when you’re right.” Your grumbled, pulling away from his hold slightly to look into his eyes.

“I know this isn’t ideal… but we’ll get through it. I need you in one piece for our wedding, after all.” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows and causing you to bark out a laugh.

“One minute you’re breaking up with me and the next your banging on about marrying me? I’ll never understand you Weasley.” You reciprocated his teasing, eyes finally dry and shining a little brighter than they had been just a few minutes prior.

George lowered his face close to yours, your noses nudging together ever so slightly as his mouth, formed in a grin, hovered in front of your own. “I’ve got to keep you interested somehow, love.”

With that his lips met yours, his hands sliding up to cup your cheeks when you began to move your lips in unison with his and your own hands tangled in his ginger hair.

All too soon, he removed his lips from yours and rested his forehead on yours. “Maybe we should make up some code words.”

“Like what?” You entertained him, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck as he thought about possible code words.

“Right, how about this? When I say “ Merlin, you’re hard work”” he spoke, his hands leaving your cheeks to make air quotes and you watched him fondly as his hands moved to your hips, “That will mean. You’re bloody incredible and I wish I could snog you right here on the spot.”

Throwing your head back, you laughed, “Perfect.”

Then you paused, thinking for a response and then you bit back a smile, hands sliding to his chest pushing him away ever so slightly, “And when I say “Oh, come off it, Weasley” that will mean You’re a prat but I love you regardless.” A dopey smile crossed his lips.

“I’m choosing to ignore the part where you called me a prat.”

Innocently, you shrugged your shoulders, “You are a prat.” George scoffed at that, pulling you into his chest again, rocking your bodies together and lulling you into a sense of tranquility as your cheek rested against his chest.

He let out a long sigh, tightening his grip around you, muttering cheekily in your ear, “Merlin, you’re hard work.”

A small laugh left your mouth and you looked up at him with a half hearted glare, “Oh, come off it, Weasley.”

*

This ‘keep it on the down low’ plan was to put it plainly: dreadful. Acting as though you and George had broken up didn't do too much to keep Umbridge off your back. What it did do however was have, what seemed like every girl in the entire castle, crowding around your boyfriend in hopes of being the next one to catch his attention.

He entertained them all with charming smiles and false niceties, more often than not passing them over to Fred, who basked in the new found attention.

Not that George was the only one being bombarded with love offers, you had your fair share of Slytherin boys sniffing around you over the last couple of days.

One boy had been particularly persistent though, and it was easy to see it was driving the youngest Weasley twin absolutely mental.

The boy in question was currently sat beside you at the Slytherin table in the great hall, doing his very best to keep you interested in what he was saying.

“I don’t know if I mentioned it earlier, but I’m sorry to hear about you and Weasley.” He told you, his voice uncharacteristically shy.

You supposed you shouldn’t be so curt with him, as far as Slytherin boys went Adrian Pucey was probably the kindest of the lot. With a small sigh you turned to the Slytherin chaser and gave him your best fake sad smile, “Thanks, Adrian.”

The boy cleared his throat and you couldn’t help but notice the flush beginning to form on his cheeks, Merlin he is going to be upset when he realises you're not really available.

“If you ever want to talk about it I’d be more than happy to listen.” He offered up kindly, his kindness wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary, the pair of you had always been friendly with each other, but your perception told you that Adrian was definitely hoping for something a little more than friendly to come of this situation.

Giving him another small smile you nodded your head, deciding to cut the poor boy some slack, “I appreciate that. It’s been pretty strange honestly, feels like every girl in school is lining up to take my place…” You trailed off, eyes landing on George who was sat at the Gryffindor table, a fifth year Hufflepuff girl sitting way too close to him for your liking, twirling her hair and you let your eyes roll at the sight.

Adrian followed your gaze before giving you a sympathetic look, “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that left you at that, you returned your gaze to him, giving him an expectant look, “You seem more upset than I am.” You pointed out, trying not to smile at the furrow in his brow.

Adrian looked away from you towards George who was now laughing with Lee, the Hufflepuff girl now long gone, shrugging his shoulders lightly he began to speak his eyes never leaving the red headed Gryffindor, “The pair of you were great together. I just don’t see what he could possibly want that you couldn’t offer… if you ask me he’s a right idiot for letting you go.”

George was looking in your direction now, his jaw set in a tight clench as he watched Pucey playfully bump his shoulder against yours. Why on earth were you smiling at something Adrian Pucey said?

You caught his gaze from across the room, sending him a sad smile then turning back to the Slytherin beside you, keeping in character as you were very aware of Umbridge’s eyes on you and what she would consider an eligible bachelor.

“Yes well, you know how Gryffindors are. Don’t often think before they act.” You told him, pushing yourself away from the table and collecting your things.

Adrian nodded in agreement, quickly standing up too, “Um, I was wondering if you were after a new potions partner?” He asked quickly, voice shaking ever so slightly with nerves.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glanced towards George- your usual potions partner desperately, turning back to Adrian you reluctantly nodded your head, you’d need a new partner in a week or so anyway. “Sure.”

Seeming pleased with your answer the brown haired boy sat back down and smiled happily as he watched you leave the hall.

The evening was drawing to an end as you found yourself on the balcony of the astronomy tower, eyes set on the sunset, your body leant comfortably on the railing in front of you.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the future Mrs. Pucey.” Came the voice you’d recognise anywhere, his tone teasing.

Without looking away from the view you chided him playfully, “Don’t be jealous, Georgie. Or should I say Hogwarts’ most eligible bachelor?”

You let out a content sigh as George wrapped his arms around you from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder and placing a delicate kiss to the curve of your jaw, “I quite like that title. But I’d prefer to be known as your future husband.” He shot back cheekily, placing a flurry of kisses against your neck making you giggle joyfully.

As you threw your head back, your laughter was silenced by his lips catching your own in a passionate kiss, his hands moving to your hips to flip you around to face him, your back pressed against the railing now as you looked up into his eyes.

“That’s all I’ve been thinking about all day.” He admitted, his hands sliding up and down your sides gently as you slid your own around his shoulders.

You hummed approvingly, pulling him towards you and placing your lips against his again, tongue moving against his as his hands gripped your hips. When you pulled away, he chased your lips, pressing short kisses to them while simultaneously pressing his body closer to yours.

“Bet Pucey wouldn’t be able to kiss you like that, eh?” George smirked cockily and you let out a breathy laugh.

Matching his energy, your hands slipped up his neck and you let them get tangled in his hair, you raised an eyebrow, “I could always go and find out… how much are you willing to bet, Weasley?” At your challenge, his lips returned your neck, dragging along the sensitive skin and making your stomach flip.

George’s lips paused right at your ear, his voice gruff and low as he whispered, “No amount of galleons would tempt me if it meant you’d be kissing that git, darling.”

“Stop, you’ll make me swoon.” You joked dryly, tugging softly on his long hair causing him to detach from your neck.

His forehead met yours as the sun finally retreated, leaving just you, George and the stars in the darkness of the tower.

“You know, you could always run away with me. Then we could go back to snogging whenever we want and that old cow wouldn’t be able to punish either one of us for too long.” You could tell he wasn’t truly joking despite the tone of his voice, you released a sad sigh, running your hands through his hair, your nails scratching his scalp the way you knew he liked.

“Mm, but imagine how incredible it’ll feel when we reunite at graduation.” He let out a small puff of air against your face, tightening his arms around you.

It was then that a worry crossed your mind, would he and Fred even bother showing up? Ron wasn’t graduating until next year, Ginny in two, so there would be no family members there for them to see. But surely they’d show up to see Lee?

“You’ll come won’t you? To graduation?” You wondered out loud, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your hips as he sensed your nerves.

He pressed his lips to your forehead and hugged you close, “Freddie and I wouldn’t miss it for the world, love.”

“If I don’t see you there I’ll hex you both.” You promised, snuggling into his embrace.

George let out a small chuckle, hand running down your hair with a content smile, “I don’t doubt it.”

*

All too soon, Fred and George disappeared from Hogwarts in a blaze of lights and explosions and you couldn’t have been prouder of them. With the ambition those boys had you sometimes questioned how they weren’t placed in Slytherin.

You’d managed to stay on Umbridge’s good side for the most part, you’d become quite close with Adrian too, but to avoid leading him on you’d fed him a story about how you were still mad about George and that you were sure he’d only broken up with you so it wouldn’t hurt you so much when he left, he accepted it far more gracefully than you’d expected and continued to be a great friend to you despite knowing you weren’t interested in anything romantic.

There was only a week left until you graduated from the school you’d called home for the past seven years and you’d managed to make it this far with no detentions with Umbridge and her favourite quill.

You were so close.

It’d been a long day of classes and you were on your way back to the Slytherin common room, Adrian by your side when you’d come across the scene.

Some of the fifth years were crowding a scared looking fourth year, you let out a low growl as you recognised Ginny to be the girl cornered by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Throwing all your previous caution to the wind you stamped towards the scene, wrapping an arm around the youngest Weasley’s shoulder and pulled her into your side protectively.

“What do you three little demons think you’re doing?” You seethed, checking Ginny over for any injuries only to find she had tears pooling in her eyes.

It was no secret that you adored the Weasleys. You’d visited the burrow six Christmases in a row and Molly has never failed to send you an owl with a present attached on your birthday. It was also no secret to the family, even George, that you’d both kill and die for little Ginny. When she’d been taken to the chamber of secrets in her very first year you’d nearly popped a blood vessel worrying about her and very nearly ended up petrified while looking for her. Your fake break up with George hadn’t changed how you felt about the family.

Malfoy scoffed, turning his nose up to you, “What’s it to you, you’re just as bad as them. Filthy blood traitor you are.” It was then Adrian stepped in, clamping a hand down on the blonde’s shoulder.

“I’d watch your mouth if you’re looking to play in the final game on Saturday.” The chaser spoke lowly, his threat scaring the younger boy only slightly.

“Oh you’re such a big hard man, Draco.” You laughed mockingly, you’d known him since he was in nappies due to the fact that your mother and his were quite close up until recent years.

Pushing Ginny gently into the grasp of Adrian who had again moved to be standing by your side, he gave her a kind smile and you nodded reassuringly and that was all she needed to go willingly to Adrian.

Now that Ginny was out of the line of fire you squared up to the spoiled brat in front of you, you were anything but intimidated by him, it was high time you gave him a little reminder of exactly why you’d been named the Princess of Slytherin for so many years.

You were never mean for no reason. In fact, everyone believed you’d been misplaced at first. That was until half the student body had watched you absolutely verbally obliterate a Ravenclaw two years above you after he’d called you a slut. You had been absolutely ruthless. Nobody dared to speak badly of you or your friends as you proved on several occasions that you’d not hold back in retaliation. It seemed that little Draco needed a reminder of this.

“You’re so cool. Bullying girls…” You told him dryly, smirking wickedly as he swallowed harshly when Crabbe and Goyle had the good sense to take a few steps back, you raised an eyebrow lowering your voice and forming your lips in a pout, “Tell me, Draco, is your daddy proud of you? Or have you yet to catch his attention?”

Draco fumed then, huffing and gritting his teeth, by now there was a small crowd forming and Ginny had retreated into the arms of Ron, another one of George’s siblings that you simply adored.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spat out, venom lacing his words, only egging you on further.

The grin on your lips only widened and your eyebrow rose higher, “Oh? Because the last time I checked” You lowered your voice so only he could hear before going on, “He’s missed your birthday for the last three years.”

His face turned red and he lunged. Shouts came from the crowd and you considered your options, were you really, as a seventeen year old, about to fist fight a fifteen year old prat with daddy issues? You got your answer in the form of Draco connecting his first to your jaw and busting you lip. The fifth year being restrained by Adrian and Ron, both of whom looked like they were going to fight him themselves.

The crowd watched with bated breath as you dabbed a finger under your cut lower lip. Noticing the blood that now painted your finger you let out a humourless laugh and tilted your head to the side.

You were absolutely about to fist fight the fifteen year old with daddy issues.

Just as you realed your fist back, a voice that met your ears like nails on a chalkboard sliced through the jeers of the crowd, “What is going on here?”

Umbridge screamed when she took in the scene. And you’d be the first to admit it looked bad. Draco with his hands being restrained by a seventh year and your fist in the air, there was absolutely no question about what was going on.

“Why Ms.(L/n)! My office this instant!” She seethed but you could tell she was biting back that horrid grin of hers. She’d been waiting for a reason to lock you in detention with her before you left.

You didn’t bother arguing with the women as she glared at Adrian, Ron and Draco.

“Pucey, Weasley let the boy go. I will deal with the three of you later.”

She motioned for you to follow her and you obliged, sighing softly when the voice echoed from behind you, “My father will be hearing about this.” He couldn’t quit could he? Seeing as you were already in trouble, you continued walking but turned your head over your shoulder and gave him a look of agreement, “Yes Draco he’ll be hearing, but will he really be listening?”

*

“You have been soiling the good name of Slytherin for far too long, positively whoring yourself out to that Weasley boy.” Umbridge had been criticising you for what felt that hours, watching intently as your hand bled as you wrote.

Not too bothered you let her go on her little rant as you write out your line: house embarrassment, her words stung far less than the growing wound on your hand.

The women took a deep breath as she continued, “A bright girl like you should be putting her talents to good use not entertaining the likes of blood traitors.”

It took everything in you to bite your tongue and refrain from stabbing her with her own enchanted quill. It was funny how you’d ended up in that position really, not because of George but because of his little sister.

“I had half a mind to hold you back. But you’d only get in my way. Consider yourself lucky.” She shut up after that, obviously growing bored of your lack of response she relieved you after another half an hour.

When you got back to the dungeon Adrian was sat waiting for you, a tired smile on his face, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh how your words injure me.” You jested, flopping onto the sofa, dropping your feet into his lap.

He patted your shin with a chuckle, “How’s the hand?”

You wiggled your bloody hand at him and he winced, “Merlin, (Y/n)...” It looked at lot worse than it felt.

You only shrugged, a dazed smile on your face, “My only regret is not getting a punch in.”

“That Ginny girl is quite worried about you. Kept saying how George was going to prank her so badly for getting you in trouble.” Pucey told you, laughing lightly when you sighed dreamily at the mention of the twin you loved.

“I’ll protect her.” You murmured, thoughts trailing off, “Did I tell you he’s coming to graduation next week?” Adrian nodded, soft smile on his face.

“D’you reckon a reconciliation is on the cards?” He asked teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Mimicking his eyebrow movements you nodded with determination, “No doubt about it, mate.”

He barked out a laugh, pushing your feet off his lap and standing up, “Save me the details, a man’s heart can only take so much.”

With a wicked smile you watched as he walked towards the dorm stairs, “So are you going to tell that Ravenclaw girl you fancy her before the end of the week?” He went rigid then, blushing furiously as you laughed.

“How’d you find out about that?” He whined miserably.

Just like earlier, you wiggled your eyebrows at him, “Saw you snogging at the back of the library.”

Adrian groaned, grabbing a cushion from the armchair by the stairs and chucked it at you, “Why’d you ask if you already knew?”

You placed your uninjured hand over your chest and faked hurt before it morphed into a triumphant grin, “Thought it’d be fun to rile you up considering you didn’t think to tell me.”

Adrian shook his head before finally heading up the stairs, “Don’t stay up too late.”

*

The days until graduation flew by and before you knew it you and the rest of your year were shouting in delight, a few even crying.

“(Y/n)!” Lee’s voice caught your attention and you met him with a bright smile and squeezed him tightly when he pulled you into a hug, “Come on, the twins are here!”

Being Fred and George’s best friend, Lee knew all about your fake split, never shy to tell you how utterly stupid he thought the whole thing was. But it didn’t matter anymore because the jig was about to be up. Finally.

Eagerly, you followed Lee through the crowd, rushing ahead of him when you locked eyes with George.

When the pair of you collided it was as if you’d never been apart. Your hands immediately tangled in his hair as he lifted you from around the waist, spinning you around excitedly before placing you down but keeping his arms around you

“Merlin, I’ve missed you.” He whispered lowly into your ear, you pulled your lip between your teeth, and leaned away to look at him fondly.

“Hi.” You whispered, a huge grin on your face.

“Hello.” He whispered back, the look on his face nothing short of enchanted when he studied you for the first time since he left.

Without another word you used your grip on his hair to bring his lips to yours, kissing him softly through your smile as you heard Ginny giggling from her place beside Molly.

George grumbled at the short length of the kiss, settling for holding you hard and leaning down to whisper, “You’re hard work, my love”

With a laugh you pecked his cheek adoringly, staring deeply into his eyes as you murmured with a shit eating grin, “Come off it, Weasley.”

[cowboisadness]

Found You {Arthur Morgan x F!reader}

Summery: She was there for Arthur through everything, being more than good friends but less than partners. They support eachother through the good and bad times, it’s not love tho, no, it’s not love at all.

Rating: M. Basically porn with plot. More plot than i planned i really got carried away with this. SMUT IS HERE! 18+ ONLY!!

—–

Chapter 4 - Together

The next few days were nothing short of torture. Arthur never spoke another word to me, huffing whenever I would say something to him or just walking away from me completely. Everyone else in camp soon noticed something serious had happened between us. Their comforting words and questions on what happened went unanswered and dismissed. I hoped time would help, that I would get a chance to explain myself and apologise for my foolishness and downright stupidity. But as the days passed, the frayed ends of the rope had no chance of being reconnected, no matter how hard I tried and how hard I cried. So I flung myself into as many jobs as I could get. As a distraction.

Robbing homesteads. Stagecoaches that turned into shootouts more often than not. Gambling with fellers that were too drunk to notice me stealing their wears from right under their noses and gone before they realised anything was amiss. Fighting in hidden alleyways with meagre men that thought they could take on a woman with nothing to lose. Just to feel something, another kind of pain that would lessen with time.

It wasn’t until I was sat at the edge of the camp, cleaning my revolver while looking out over the overlook, stars raining bright above. Bottle of whiskey by my side that Hosea came over and sat beside me. Silent at first. Taking in the view.

“You going to explain whats going on?”

“Nothings going on, Hosea.” I shrugged, running the oiled cloth over the same spot mindlessly. “Arthur won’t tell me. I though out of the two of you, you would.” he kept his eyes ahead, not bothering to look at me. I sighed, my shoulders dropping in defeat. I might as well tell him, not like he would be able to change my mind.

“I’m an idiot. I spoke to Mary. Told her to leave Arthur alone and to stop contacting him.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know anymore...Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You love him.” I could see his grin out of the corner of my eye, albeit a sad on.

“Not you too, Hosea.”

“You two were very close. Closer than you think I realise. I’m not a dumb old man you know”

I didnt reply to that. No point to, my mind was made up now. Instead, I holstered my gun and stood, picking up the bottle as I did. Turning to Hosea to finally look at him.

“I’m leaving, Hosea. Only for a few weeks or a few months. I don’t know.”

“You really think leaving will help?” “Maybe. It might help him if I’m not here. I’ll send money and write to you and Dutch. I’ve already packed.” After a few more words and questions on my plans when I’m out there on my own, we hugged and I said my goodbyes to him, Dutch and a few others. Promising the girls I will see them again, even though I was doubtful. I willed no tears to spill when I gathered my things, leaving my tent bare and hollow. Mounting my horse I left camp without looking back, letting the wind guide me in whatever direction it wanted me to go.

---

Roughly 4 months had passed since leaving. Currently holed up in a now-abandoned cabin in the depths of Grizzlies East by O’Creagh’s run, hiding from the law after robbing the fence in Van Horne. Id wrote letters and sent money to nearby stations as promised. Keeping updated with the gangs coming and goings. The last time I heard from those who would write back, mainly Hosea and Mary-Beth, was when they were held up in a place called Shady Belle. I haven’t heard anything from them since. That was a month ago. I had thought of going there, finding them. But I couldn’t bare having to leave again after realising they had been getting on fine and had left me to my own devices. Coming to the conclusion that I was not returning and that I had abandoned them all. Which was far from the truth. I still cared, which I’m sure was evident from whatever leftover money I had been sending to them. Only, it wasn’t getting picked up from the stations anymore, along with my many letters. I was travelling back to the cabin after an evening hunting for supper and hopeful breakfast. The blanket of trees now behind me, opening up the wondrous starry night, pulling my jacket closed as the cold breeze this time of year began to sting any uncovered skin. I looked around before dismounting, taking my kill of two rabbits stowed on the side of my ever faithful horse and made my way inside. Looking around once more to make sure I hadn’t been followed. Just to be safe. As I began to skin and gut the meat, the warm glow from the lantern lighting my every movement in the otherwise dark cabin, I heard motion outside. Bears and wolves were not uncommon around these parts. I had to shoot my way out of a wolf pack not a week ago, coming away with nothing but a bruise on my hip from being bucked off the horse in her desperate attempt to flee. Nevertheless, I placed down the knife and picked up my rifle propped up against the door. Looking out the window to the right of the door. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing else. I went to the door, preparing my rifle then placing my ear to the door. It was silence for a few moments, then movement again, making its way up the steps. It didn’t sound like an animal. With a hand on the handle and rifle ready to be used, I swung the door open. The rifle now aimed at the unwelcomed guest.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust in the darkness, but it didnt take long to recognise who it was.

“Arthur?” It was barely a whisper. A question of disbelief. I blinked a few times, surely my eyes were playing tricks on me.

After a few breaths, he finally spoke “I’ve found you.” We just stood there, I released a breath I didnt even know I was holding. How did he find me? Why would he? Months of keeping myself away from people the best I could and staying hidden for long periods of time I was beginning to feel content with being a lone wolf. Not thinking that lone wolves are weakened beings after too long. Often driven out when deemed useless or a weakness to the pack, or leaving to find their own family. Not alone forever, wolves would struggle and go insane.

But he, of all people, found me. The only question now is why. And that was the only thing I could say as I lowered the gun.

“Why?”

He told me everything that happened. The downfall, the betrayal, the heartbreak. Those that we lost. Everyone gone in one way or another. Sean, Kieran, Lenny, Hosea, Molly, Miss Grimshaw. Dead. Saint Denis bank, Guarma, Micah working with the Pinkertons. In the end, Micah had turned Dutch against almost everyone, whispering little worms into his ear until they grew and grew to leave no room for anything else.

Dutch turning his back on Him and John. Leaving John to bleed out and leaving Arthur on that mountain. Where he thought would be his final resting place. But once the sun was up, high in the sky, he found the energy to live. To heal. To find me.

And that’s what he did the last few weeks until he heard whispers of someone fitting my description that caused a bit of hell in Van Horn. He knew he was close.

“But...why did you want to find me?” I asked. Both of us sat around the small table below the window, two empty whiskey glasses before us.

He took in a deep breath, his perfect blue eyes meeting my bloodshot and watery ones. “I wanted to the moment I was told you left,” He leaned over, taking my hands in his.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think these last few months. Especially in the last few weeks. What you did before you left, I understand now why.”

“But I hurt you.” letting a sob escape, my body starting to tremble and I’m sure he could feel it in my hands.

“It did hurt. But losing you hurt even more,” He said, nothing more than a whisper, his eyes never leaving mine and his hold on my hands not faltering as he continued. “I remember what you said to me that night years ago. ‘Bout not knowing how much I mean to you. Well - I - I do. Because I feel the same. Always have. it just took me a while to realise it I guess.”

I couldn’t stop the tears. The damn had busted open. Within seconds he was on me, his arms enveloping me, my hands coming to purchase on his shirt. Neither of us wanted to let go, out of fear the other would disappear into the air like dust in the morning rays. We held each other for what felt like an eternity, my tears slowing and the shaking subsiding. I lifted my head from where it was perched on his chest to look at him, our eyes locked once more. No words were spoken but I could see it in the depths of those pools, the forgiveness and longing. And I was sure my eyes mirrored the same. His hand came up to cradle my face and I instinctively leaned into him, my breathing hitching despite the calmness that washed over me. Then I looked into his eyes again, only to be met with a look I had not seen in many years. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could he surged forward, his lips on mine. It was delicate, more fragile than any other kiss we had shared. It wasn’t long until that fragility turned into desperation, my hands at the nape of his neck, his on my waist. My mind was running a million miles a minute, all thoughts of him and this moment. Feeling like we were young lovers again. His hands roamed my sides as I gripped his hair, keeping each other glued to one another. My body began to burn up, feelings I had repressed for months pushing their way to the surface, refusing to be drowned. We broke apart and he pulled me to stand, his lips now on my neck, trailing wet kisses from below my ear to the hollow of my neck, causing me to moan. He looked at me then, desperation and pleading etched upon his face before I kissed him again. Kissing the scar on his chin that was easily visible within the stubble, his jaw, down to his neck and then his chest. Pushing off his jacket and suspenders with it. My fingers returned to the front of his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly as he pushed me back into the direction of the bed. My legs soon coming into contact with the edge. His hands now making a start on my blouse, pulling it from the confines of my pants and lifting it over my head. My hands roaming his chest and snaking down to his abdomen, stroking the hair there, causing him to tense at my touch. He always was a fine man, built from hard work that I couldn't help but adore. His arms wrapping around to my back to undo the corsets lacing, completely surrounding me and all I could smell was him. Horse, rain, sweat and something that was just so undoubtedly him. Undoing his gun belt was muscle memory, hitting the floor with a thud, my corset following, now both bare from the waist up. We couldn’t wait any longer, our lips on each other once again as we worked on unbuttoning our pants. He leaned me down to lay on the bed, my legs hanging over the sides as he wasted no time to pull off the rest of my clothing. Laying there propped up on my elbows I watched as he raked his eyes over every curve, scar and freckle on my body. Kneeling between my legs he drew kisses from my knee up my thigh, getting oh so close to where I wanted him to be. He looked up at me once more, giving a shuddering breath before his mouth landed between my legs, soft but purposeful strokes easily pulling moans from me. He didn’t let up, devouring me like a man starved as he paid close attention to my little bundle of nerves. My body shaking again but for a whole different reason. It had been too long and I knew I wasn’t going to last if he kept going for a minute longer. My hands fisting the bedsheets I tried to speak but it was useless, squirming from the sensations. Lifting my legs to rest on his shoulders feeling him moan against me, the vibration causing bolts of electricity to fire through my whole body and land at my core. I could feel my orgasm rapidly approaching and my hand flew down to card through his hair, holding him there. My body convulsed as I tipped off the edge, my head rolling back as the blinding pleasure washed over me, moaning his name into the air. Arthur was above kissing me within seconds, tasting myself on his tongue and lips. Catching my breath he pushed me further up the bed until my head hit the plush pillows. Removing his pants and then situating himself between my legs. I could feel him pressed up against my thigh, hot and swollen and begging for attention. And oh how my body craved to give him what he needed. His eyes met mine, hooded and filled with lust. Silently asking for permission. I nodded, placing a kiss on his forehead and placing my hands on his shoulders. Electrifying jolts surged through my core as he strokes himself along my slit tenderly. His skin burning to my touch and looking downright drunk. Completely intoxicated. He sinks into me slowly. My body soon getting accustomed to the memory of him as he bottoms out, his hips meeting my thighs. My breath hitches as he bites back a moan. Both of us taking a moment just to bask in the feeling of one another like this again. It all felt the same but so different. He kissed the scar on my collar bone that he only got to see before when it was fresh. We had been through so much over the years we would need to learn about each other again. But one thing remained the same; my body yeard for him. He pulled out before setting a languid pace, lifting one of my legs to wrap around his waist, allowing him to go deeper, his pace quickening and lifting my hips to meet him, Chasing our pleasure. One hand in my hair, tangled up with my locks as his other hand firmly grasped my hip. The look on his face was evidence that he was holding back, needing to completely lose himself in me. And I felt the same. “Arthur...Please.” I purred, not needing to say anymore. His pace quickened with a grunt, one that was a borderline growl. My moans and the sounds of skin on skin filling the air and our ears as he kept hitting that sweet spot. My nails forming crescents on his shoulders. Pulling him down to crush my lips against his, our teeth clicking and tongues dancing together. Pulling back suddenly with swollen lips as the pressure began to build, my whole body trembling more and more as I got higher and higher. Moaning out his name as his rhythm began to falter. Nuzzling into my neck and mumbling ‘oh, fuck,’ in that gravelly but wanton voice. His hand on my hip made its way between my legs, rubbing in quick circles. I couldn’t hold back. That coil within me growing tighter and tighter before snapping. My back arching as the shockwaves rocked through me. Slowing his pace slightly to ride me through it before picking up his pace again, chasing his pleasure with a few more pumps of his hips and he stilled. His hand like a vice on my thigh as he spent himself inside me with a drawn-out moan. It took us a few moments to get our breath back. Pulling himself from me causing me to whimper from the empty feeling and sensitivity. He moved to lay beside me and pulled me to lay with my head on his shoulder. Neither of us willing to clean ourselves up just yet. My skin now acknowledging the cold air around us. The thin sheen of sweat cooling me. Nothing was said for a while as he held me close until he broke the silence to place a kiss to the top of my head then lifting my chin for my face to meet his. “I love you,” he said. My eyes getting blurry from the confession I never thought I would hear. But looking at him I knew it was true. His eyes shone with adoration. I smiled weakly before kissing him once. Looking back into his eyes and with no hesitation, I said out loud what id only heard myself mutter in my dreams. “I love you too."

[9-punk]

Basically the stitchphonies are machines designed to fool the stitchpunks and eventually take their soul. They act like the stitchpunk they were made to copy when around their targets (for the most part 9) but outside of tricking ppl they have their own personalities.

“1”/Hex- Unlike the real 1, he is a push over. He doesn’t really want to harm anyone but his programing comes before his emotions His eyes are permanently in the shape of hexagons (There is a joke that the real 8 would adopt him)

“2”/Mallet- He takes “smashing” to a whole new level. Unlike the real 2, he wants to see everything destroyed. Mallet doesn’t tolerate weakness and he makes sure the others know that. The cap on his head is bronze instead of sliver. Has a hammer named Molly which is basically the love of his life

“The twins"/D("3")T("4")- While it’s hard to tell which is which, these twins hate each other. Constantly fighting and destroying each other’s stuff. It is kinda easy to tell them apart from the real twins, because the numbers are on the wrong side. D’s is on their right side and T’s number is on their left side.

“5”/Azazel - One of the most evil out of all of them. Manipulative and cruel to no end. He enjoys people’s sadness and fear. Most of them time he doesn’t even bother to pretend to be 5 around most of the stitchpunks (9 is the only exception) His patch is a darker than 5's

“6”/Stripes- Tbh he’s not that different. Somewhat easier to tell apart from the real 6 bc while 6’s stripes are gray, his are black. He does love to set stuff on fire.

“7”/Enyo- Still a fierce warrior but she is a bit more abusive towards the other stitchphony. She either yells at them or rips them apart. She's deeply in love with Azazel. Her fabric is a little bit darker than 7's

“8”/Butcher- More or less the same. Doesn’t care for magnets tho. his number is on the wrong side

[kaetastic]

Bound To Be Spilled

pairing: Post-Azkaban!Sirius Black x Harry’s-Former-Crush!Reader

summary: Wrapped in the golden circle had meant Y/N was bound to run into trouble, if only she’d know the trouble was Harry Potter’s Godfather. Only, she had been oblivious to Harry’s glances, and his attempts to court her previous years ago.

word count: 4.3k

warning: fluff, angst?, happy harry, confused harry, unprotected sex, smut, interruptions because why not

note: the reader is of age, of course! she’s in her last year, 18-19 y/o :)) this is also set in order of the phoenix balalalalalalalal sirius black doesn’t die blaalalal he never dies blalalalalalal also i didn’t know what to do with the ?!Reader lmao yes

The elegant green wallpaper of the house had been the standing piece of the pureblood’s proud house. Well, not so much elegant as time paced without a sole concern for the maintenance of the quality. Even though Sirius remembered it being green during his childhood, he believed that the colours had begun to fade away in shades he thought wasn’t even possible. The walls began to look like Swiss cheese, chunks scraped off- vanished to leave a unique design. The unfortunate pieces were probably nudged under moulding furniture or swiped away by the only creature who cared to exert an effort to clean the abandoned place- Kreacher. 

The house lingered after the tragic death of the last remaining member of the Black family to place the property on the minuscule hands of a house-elf as the sole living heir to the house was locked away in the walls of Azkaban. Walburga did not only think her oldest son would rot in the prison after receiving a Dementor’s kiss, but she believed it. She knew Sirius would not come out alive. 

The passing down of the property was a reminder to the next generation who would be receiving the key of their loyalty that prided itself to the generations-worth of being sorted into the right house. To the green serpent. Except, the current holder wished he could’ve found a way to strip every bit that reminded him of his neglected childhood. Although, Sirius wasn’t sure if he was neglected, or he had been the one to avoid his parents every possible moment during his youth. It was more or less of not wanting to hear their voices and wanting to annoy every fibre of their being. 

The framed portrait of his mother that he could not find a spell to yank out of the wall, the room that had been the sole reason for the outrageous family tree, and the house-elf had been only a small list of things he couldn’t get rid of. Oh, the house-elf. It was so easy for the creature to get on the wizard’s nerves that the pureblood believed his tolerance had run short. It wouldn’t be long before Sirius Black snapped towards the elf that never took a liking to him ever since a child. That was what Sirius feared. Locked in the prison walls of Azkaban for a crime he had not committed, he feared he would be chucked back in for a crime he was sure to commit by the murdering of Kreacher.

Despite his hatred for the slimy creature, and how he wished to throw a ragged sock on his face so Sirius could be free from the torture of the elf, Kreacher had been useful in some ways such as cleaning the house. That, and accompanying his mother’s babbling portrait. It had only been a few years since he had left the tainted walls of Azkaban. Years he had tried to set himself in the right mind space, years he had tried to renovate himself, not to be the boy he was but the man he wanted to be. The same years he wanted to change things up in the house he grew up in. Except, he hadn’t found the energy and will to do so. Call it procrastination, Sirius called it refilling his wizard’s magic bar. 

There had been times when he wanted to rip everything, redo the whole house. Despite the engulfing thoughts of him doing productive chores, he could never find himself pulling his body up from the couch to enter his parents’ bedroom nor his little brother’s. The emotion- he couldn’t describe. Maybe he could if he had done a little digging with care; however, Sirius didn’t want to hear the truth. He didn’t want to know what that feeling of sympathy was. So, he steered away from their rooms. It wasn’t accidental laziness. He only intended extending the time he wasted so he didn’t have to face the obstacle. 

With his successful escape from Azkaban, numerous things had changed ever since he had been thrown into the prison. No matter the number of times the shadowy figures of Dementors had walked past him while he cowered in the corner of the cell, nothing would get rid of his youthful personality. That was probably why one name kept echoing in his head. Sirius Black was known to be a charmer during his years in Hogwarts, to say the least, he believed that it had never gone. James had placed such a label on Sirius’s head. The memory of James losing a bet to say the true words had been blurred away. There was no need for a bet as the words had been a prophecy. 

Sirius Black wasn’t sure what to feel after the meeting. It had been fiery as he had expected. Words had been thrown around, over and under the table of where the Order Of The Phoenix was to go with the terrifying news. The news that Harry Potter was to be the new target of Voldemort. He was just a mere boy for Merlin’s sake. Sirius wasn’t sure where he got it from, the sudden rush of a mother bird defending his belief that the young target of the Dark Lord should be aware of what was to come. He stood by it without a quiver in his ageing knees. Harry had every right to know what the Order suspected in the upcoming time. Hell, if it was not rights- Harry must know for his own safety. Except, the Weasley’s mother heart laid elsewhere. 

“You sure you’re all right, Harry? Gave us quite a turn.” The words fell off Arthur’s lips in a swift swerve. 

“Harry Potter.”

Parting from each other quite reluctantly, the parents of the Weasley’s stood by the wall, widening space for the Godfather and his Godson. Harry stood there, eyes dazzling at the figure in joy, a feeling he had latched on for years. The only family he had left. Sirius might’ve not been related to him by blood, but he was a family nonetheless. The young wizard didn’t waste time jumping into the embrace of his Godfather. The warmth he had been craving for so long had finally come under the roof of a house that had only sent him mere creepy shivers, “Sirius.”

Although Harry’s figure that was wrapped in Sirius’s arms had made him smaller, comparably, the pureblood wizard couldn’t help but linger on the thought of how fast the boy had grown. Just years ago, Harry had aided him onto the back of Buckbeak, now, he was a man. Well, Molly Weasley liked to believe otherwise. Despite the sentimental interaction of the two, he had no control of his eyes that trailed towards the leaning figure against the railing of the endless stairs. The pureblood wizard wore a wide smile, no doubt, everyone would assume was from the embrace he had longed for. If only they had known. Y/N returned the gesture. 

It felt so warm, the glowing feeling in his chest in knowing he had the privilege and the blessing to become the Godfather of James’ son. Sirius still remembered when the news was revealed to him. Oh, he felt as if he was swimming over the misty puffs of clouds. As the two figure pulled away, Sirius reluctantly peeled his eyes away from the woman to face the overjoyed wizard, his palms sat on Harry’s shoulders, “How about you go first? I need to grab something from my room.” The boy nodded, the corners of his lips curling up at the soft pat on his back- no different to that from a father figure. Harry could sense the speckle of sorrow at the mention of the word, yet, with everything that surrounded him: family, friends- there was nothing else he wanted more. 

Sirius’s eyes trained on the group that faded to the kitchen, some bustling noise had trickled along the hallway. It was so lively. Finally. The word sung in Sirius’s head. Not everyone was willing or free to accompany the sad old escapee. He knew no one wanted to, especially with the fact that they would have to rest in the pathetic house. The times when he would cower in sorrow had been long forgotten at the uproar of life set by the Weasleys. Especially with the twins who displayed mischief, he could only think of when he was the same age as them. The bunch of their heads were enough to create an army. 

Even though his stomach had endured enough of the sad excuse of meals in Azkaban (well, what was he to expect in such a place?) was growling in anger to why his body began pacing towards the stairs, away from the scrumptious goodness that was baking up by Molly, the wizard didn’t bother to smother care as one thing was plastered across his head. He couldn’t help the corners of his lips curling up at the figure that stood there seconds ago. Steps creaking with every kick of his leg, the pureblood wizard didn’t bother to make his haste pace stealthy. It had been some time since he had seen her. The desperation of needing her body in his arms and her lips against his had blurred out any other thoughts. 

Y/N’s eyes snapped towards the shadowy figure that barged into the owner of the house’s bedroom. It wasn’t exactly her first time in the room that screamed out ‘Gryffindor’ from the simple decorations that built up the empty room. Yet, every time she entered the bedroom, she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the subtle things that made up Sirius’s childhood. 

There had been some things he was embarrassed about like the pictures of Muggle women clad in bikinis that were magically plastered onto a wall. Even though he had been the one to bind them to piss off his mother who would pull her hair out when she could not peel it off, he wanted to do nothing but rip it out. Especially when he would have a woman screaming his name in his room. Sirius didn’t know what spell would take it off. 

With graceful aid from the warm glow from the spherical light source, the minimal smear of light jabbing from the dim corridor splaying to blur out a smudge around his figure danced with one another to sharpen the figures. A second lingered in the air. A second where their eyes beamed onto each other’s, relishing the other’s outline- though, that only applied for Y/N as he could make out every detail of her. Sirius shut the door. He had to remind himself to make less noise to not quiver suspicion from those who were in the kitchen. Even though he knew they were waiting for him to begin devouring dinner, there was not a smear of guilt in him. Yet, with the pushing suggestion of lowering down sound, he couldn’t help but hear the ancient hinges crying out a plea for mercy. 

Then, the wishes he had begged for during the hopeless days of his pathetic soul locked in the walls of his childhood home came true. The only difference when he was in the prison than stuffed away in the house was the pesky presence of those shadowy blankets were no longer. Oh, he also had more freedom and space to wander around in the house- but still, it didn’t feel good to be bound to a house because a whole government was scrambling to throw you back to prison. A sacrifice it must. Her soft fingers rested on his cheeks, the pads grazing over the curls on his jaw. The trimmed and groomed patch of hair looked great on him. 

The pureblood wizard bit his bottom lip once they pulled away. He took in everything she had to offer, the warm gaze of her eyes, her scent, and the gentle kiss of her fingers against his skin. Sirius had no control over the corners of his lips that curled up. He basked in her appearance, in her presence. 

“Hello, darling,” Sirius slipped out, the warm puff was squeezed out of his chest, heaving the exhalation to pierce her lips. Even though the lamp that sat in the corner of the room had only splayed out a smear of light, he could tell the glint in her eyes had glittered. “It has been some time.”

“It has.” The witch chuckled out as she wrapped her arms around his neck to lower him, the gentle brushing of her skin against the prickling bristles of his hair felt more comforting- far more than when people who lived on the edge or people who cared for animals had petted him while he was in his animagus form. There were times he liked their caring pets, some had even ruffled nasty fleas. Although, some had stood on the tip of their toes as they ran their hands over his fur. It had not been a fun situation to be in. 

Sirius leaned in once again. He couldn’t- no, he didn’t want to resist the urge of his lips on hers. During his youth in Hogwarts, he had spent his time ogling girls. Somehow, he had managed to receive decent marks. Well, he had to give credit to his old pal, Remus Lupin who had been the one to drag him by the back of his shirt to the library. Remus had once also used a silencing charm on the pureblood wizard since the boy could not comprehend the terms of being under a library’s roof. But not one girl he had long histories with made him feel like what he felt when he was with Y/N. It was new. It was foreign. He liked it. His fingers trailed down onto her waist, inching her closer to him while their tongues danced; even though she wouldn’t mind him yanking her onto his chest.

“Look at you. You look dapper in maroon… or is it burgundy?” Sirius rolled his eyes, the sweet song of her laughter was silenced by his lips. Locked away in the house had only meant his head had sprinted for ideas on end. He had tried every little idea that suggested time to pass in a blink of an eye. All from trying out new hobbies such as knitting to playing chess by himself. Sirius had used magic to enchant the board given by Arthur. However, it seemed every time he was up against the spell he had cast, he would lose. Nothing helped but spacing out in dreams he could only ponder hours on end. Dreams of a life where he could saunter across the street without having to bother about being captured. Dreams of a family. 

“I look good in everything.” 

“You look better in nothing.” 

With a quirk of a coquettish smile, she had expected the man to be pulled abruptly at her uncalled words. However, it was Sirius Black. And Sirius always managed to steer away from people’s expectations. Humming at her statement, his fingers descended to grope the swell of her ass. The wizard relished in the way her breath hitched in a gasp. He didn’t bother to make his path down go by unnoticed, he wanted her to feel every drag of his rough pads. Despite their few years of acquainting one another, it felt as if Sirius had learnt a whole load about her. Especially how she liked it. With languid movements and deep gazing into her eyes, he opposed, “I look my best on you.”

“Hm? Why aren’t you looking your best, then?”

Oh. Sirius wanted to do nothing but throw her on his bed, peel off every stubborn layer that stood between the two. He didn’t even think about the guests who were still waiting for his arrival at the table. It sounded too good.

“Sirius! Move your ass, won’t you? Your seat at the head is left empty, everyone’s waiting for the news.” The sweet, sweet voice of Remus trickled into the cracks of the door. Sirius could feel his neck craned down to stare at the sad state of his floor, frustration easing into his muscles. There was great disappointment, irritation, and overall, the need to shake his old friend. Remus didn’t know about the two. No one did- fortunately. Somehow, one way or another, what the two had done behind walls did not leak out… yet. Just yet. 

The pureblood wizard was proud of his achievement; the fact that he had managed to keep such a secret without spilling it all into Remus’s ears meant a great deal. Especially with his Godson. Just the thought of Harry finding out what his Godfather- the man his father trusted his whole life with, had been doing with his former crush would just worsen the boy’s life. What’s worse is that the boy already had the bar of his life’s difficulty high up. Sirius still remembered the time Harry told him of the observing crush he had on Y/N who was roughly three years older than his age. She had been around her fifth grade when Harry was just a mere second grade. 

Sirius recalled the time when Harry confessed he had moved on from the silly crush. The boy did everything he could in hopes she would see him. The hopeless feeling for the older woman was long gone… maybe. Well, that was what he told Sirius anyway. Subtle sticks of flowers, running into her occasionally- nothing had worked. What Sirius did know was that the witch felt something for him, the Godfather of the boy. Before he knew it, he threw himself in a hole, surrounded by revolving gears that would churn boisterously with every slight movement he made. To get out of it, he would have to rest his hand upon the gears. Something was bound to go wrong. It just hadn’t. 

Y/N was more hooked onto the ‘news’ Remus was talking about while Sirius could feel steams of fury huff out of his ears. Seconds of silence hung upon the air. Sirius could feel the negative emotions lift from his chest as he swam through the elating feeling. There were only a few centimetres between their lips before Remus’s voice cladded around their heads, “Have you seen Y/N? I swear I saw her…” 

The wizard pressed his lips, a heavy exhale echoing into the air, quite audible to the man who lingered in front of the door, “No! I haven’t seen her.” Neck craned towards the door to yell out his reply, Y/N muffled her giggles with her hand at his frustration. 

“Come on, old man, don’t want them becoming suspicious.”

Even though the news cracked by some willing members of the Order of the Phoenix had cracked over the youthful heads of wizards had been terrifying which sent shivers down their spines, stolen glances were not wasted. Y/N had to swallow down the chewed up ball of scrumptious meal Molly had made with the chilling fact that the boy she knew would have an enormous red target over his head. And because he was Harry Potter, he had insisted on standing beside the Order, scratch that- join the Order to defeat Voldemort. She wasn’t exactly sure what weapon the Dark Lord wanted according to Sirius’s words, but with connecting vague dots and assumptions, she had made a large leap.

Even if her theory to the weapon had sounded astounding, the fact that Harry had been the victim of many Voldemort’s doings had proved as evidence. Cedric’s death had been a strong proof that Voldemort had returned to his body. Yet, with words and power- eyes were sculpted to narrow onto one perspective: the lies of the Minister. 

Harry bore the mark, Harry cried out for the unfortunate death of the Hufflepuff- but he was portrayed as a little boy who lied, the boy who cried wolf. It was fear. All fear. The Minister was being thrown in the palms of fear, it warped around his mind, pinching the wizard to be blinded by the possibilities of him being thrown from his powerful position. If the man was trying to not shake the entire wizard population, merits could be given for his thoughtful idea. Except, the entire population he did not want to stand on their toes were far from moving… they had been dripping icicles. Well, some. There had been people who were qualified to steer away from the captivating words.

It took some time to gulp down the words. Now, she was gulping down wanton moans even though Sirius had insisted multiple times to let out all the noises. With her knees dug into the red cover of his bed, head planted onto the staggering rocks of the mattress and wrists held by him, there was no longer pain or aching muscles for all of it were overlapped with pleasure. A growl echoed from the pureblood’s throat, guttural, swimming in pools of pleased needs. Needs that had been building up for years. Needs that made way into his mind at the thought of the woman.

He threw his head back at the clenching of her walls against his shaft, Sirius grasped her waist to thrust deeper. Beads of sweat had woven through his hair, damping strands to splay against his forehead. The creaking of the ancient bed trickled into the air, mixed in with the slamming of the wooden post against the wall. Sirius could not bother if everyone was wide-awake, listening to the banging of the walls. Free concert, he tutted. Although, the noise within the walls was much more enjoyable- to Sirius. His eyes grazed over red that had plastered all over his room. The corners of his lips curled up as he remembered his rebel-self during his youth. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m going to cum.” The words hissed out of his mouth sent shivers against her skin, pricking with teasing pinches. Y/N panted, eyes squeezed tight as his thrusts snapped harder. Her lips were parted open, sharp moans stinging out while her fingers clambered into the blanket. It wasn’t long before they chased their own release. 

Once she managed to turn herself, back splayed out on the bed, chest still heaving from the strenuous laps, her eyes narrowed onto the man. Oh, what a sight it was. 

“Full of energy even though you’re an old man.” Sirius threw his head back, boisterous cackling from his lips rebounded from the walls into her ears. The noise finally died down. Y/N finally realized how great he looked with red. Every angle she craned her neck, she would be met with the sole colour. She couldn’t see Sirius with green. 

His arm planted beside her head, the other creeping up her thighs to rest it against his hip, “Who said I’m old?” The same lust-filled eyes gazed deep into hers. 

“Sirius, there’s been some things I’ve wanted to, holy-” 

Eyes snapped onto the door that swung without creak that would cry out whenever the wizard would turn gently. Y/N was the first to react, her hands swung to yank the shivering cover while Harry stood still under the door frame as if he had been cast with Petrificus Totalus. The boy barely realized he was staring at the couple who had just finished one of their many rounds until his eyes trailed to meet his Godfather’s. Red smeared over his cheeks, quite prominently once he had gulped down the fact that he just saw the bare body of his father’s friend hovering over his former crush. Sirius hastily got off the bed, rushing across the carpeted floor- butt still open to the air. Even though he felt this day would come, where the secret would rise to the surface- he did not expect or assume it would be like so. He didn’t even spend a cent on having his Godson running on him bare.

“Just one second.” Sirius murmured, hands yanking up the trousers he had thrown haphazardly all across the room before draping his shirt on over his shoulder without buttoning. The fabric would swing with every churn of his body, exposing the marking that smeared all over his chest, proudly made by Y/N, sprinkled in the exhausting rounds.

Harry only heard the rustling of cloth brushing harshly against skin, swirled into faint mumbling between the two, “Well, time for an explanation, right?” 

“Without a doubt, Sirius,” The boy hissed to his Godfather, his body inches away. The words slipped out of his tongue in whispers. “What are you doing? Don’t you remember that this is the exact girl I told you I liked.”

“Liked, Harry. Past tense.” The pureblood wizard patted Harry’s shoulders.

“That doesn’t make this situation any better.”

“No, it wouldn’t… I don’t do too well with easing tensions, though, there are some times when I would say otherwise.” Harry let out a huff, eyes rolling at Sirius when the man craned his neck towards the woman who sat on the ruffled bed. 

“Just- when did this all happen? When did it start?” Harry gestured towards the two.

“A year ago? Maybe?” Y/N shrugged her shoulder, not remembering when the two had fallen into the routine.

“This is a lot to take in…”

Sirius grinned, his palms slammed onto his Godson’s shoulders, “Listen here, Harry. This isn’t a competition. Because if it was, I would win. Anyway, I hope you can keep this to yourself since we hadn’t really found the comforts to… bring up the story to the rest. Also, don’t say a word to your friends.”

Harry met his eyes that glared into his soul, “I’m not sure how to feel. I guess I’m glad you’ve found somebody? This is just so weird.” 

[wellimaginethat]

Pity Party: Chapter One

Pairing: Crockett Marcel x (female) Paramedic!Reader

Requested?: Nope! I just decided to write little birthday one shots to celebrate my birthday, lol

Word Count: 1922

Author’s Note: So this is one of my four birthday stories written due to my birthday having been last Wednesday. This one will be a short series because apparently I love writing little series when it’s Crockett, lol. Also, this is my attempt at a slow burn...usually I just jump right into it or something, but this time I am going to actually try to write a slow burn...let’s see how that goes, lol

Trigger Warning(s): Spending your birthday alone, being sad, drinking alcohol, slow burn

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: You were bummed to be spending your birthday alone, but your coworkers at the firehouse and your friends at med had different ideas, which leads you to celebrating your birthday at Molly’s and almost confronting your feelings for Crockett...

Y/N = Your Name

Tag list: Not tagging in the birthday ones because I don’t want to accidentally tag someone who doesn’t celebrate birthdays. However, if you do want to be tagged in the following parts of this series then do let me know and I will gladly tag you.

Every year as your birthday approached, you got incredibly excited only to be let down when you once again spent it alone.

You kept hoping your friends would ask if you wanted to go out for a drink to celebrate, or to grab pizza, or to just hang out. But every year, all you ever got was texts or simple posts on facebook, which you hardly went on anymore.

So this year you were going to try your hardest not to get excited and hopeful, because you didn’t want to go through the same thing you had for the last few years and you really wanted to avoid the birthday depression, as you called it, when you finally realized that all you would get would be texts. Now you were okay with not getting any gifts, you didn’t really care about that or about cards, you just wanted someone to at least act like they were happy you were another year older.

And it’s not like you hadn’t put effort into planning stuff for your own birthday. In the previous years you had asked a few friends to get drinks with you, to get pizza with you, to have dinner, the list goes on. They would always say something along the lines of ‘yeah sure’ and then either forget, make other plans, or cancel at the last minute. You could understand that sometimes life happens, but it was every year and you felt like you were putting more effort into your friendships than they were.

The last straw was when you saw the three of your closest friends hanging out without you, and you figured it was time to finally move on from your old high school clique.

So you fully intended to spend this birthday alone at your apartment.

So after your shift, you went home and changed into jeans and a nice shirt because if you were going to celebrate your birthday alone, you were going to at least look good while you did so.

You went to the counter and grabbed the pastry box that held the cupcake you had bought yourself and opened it, carefully pulling the cupcake out and setting it on the counter before ripping open the package of candles and placing one on the cupcake.

You searched for about twenty minutes before you finally found some matches to light your candle. You watched as the candle burnt for a few seconds before letting your eyes fall shut to make a wish. For someone to care. Before blowing out the candle.

You pulled the candle out and tossed it on the counter to the side and pulled the paper wrapping off of the cupcake and took a bite just as there was a knock at your door.

You set the cupcake down and headed to the door and looked through the peephole to see Crockett Marcel.

Curious, you opened the door with a raised brow. As soon as you had finished chewing and swallowing your cupcake, you tilted your head and finally asked, very confused. “What are you doing here?”

That seemed to catch him off guard. “Is that any way to greet a visitor?”

You frowned slightly, your turned to be caught off guard. “I’m sorry...I just...wasn’t expecting anyone…” You told him. “I wasn’t trying to be rude, and I’m still not, but the question still stands…”

“It’s your birthday.” Crockett stated simply, glancing over your shoulder into your apartment. “And you seem to be throwing yourself a pity party…”

“Yeah well it’s my pity party, so if you don’t mind I’m going to get back to it.” You told him. “You can come inside if you want.” You offered. “I don’t have another cupcake though…”

Crockett shook his head. “No, I came to get you.”

“Get me?” You asked, confused.

Crockett nodded. “Everyone’s waiting down at Molly’s for you.”

You were still confused and now you were frowning. “What for?”

“To celebrate your birthday.” Crockett told you like it should have been obvious. “We were going to surprise you, but when you didn’t show up, we decided someone should come get you.”

“And you drew the short straw?”

Crockett frowned at you. “No, I volunteered because I wanted to be the first to wish the sweet little paramedic a happy birthday.”

You tried to fight back the smile but couldn’t help it. “Well thanks.”

“Now get your shoes on and grab a coat, everyone’s waiting for the birthday girl.” Crockett smiled at you.

You slipped your shoes on and grabbed your coat and purse before locking up and walking with Crockett, he insisted you ride with him and you didn’t argue. He opened the door for you to get in his car, and then opened the door to the bar so you could walk in first, a complete gentleman and it made your little crush on him grow that much more.

“Hey, she’s here.” You heard your best friend Sylvie quickly whisper to everyone as you were walking in, and suddenly all eyes were on you.

“Happy birthday!” They all shouted and cheered.

You smiled wide, hardly able to believe that they actually cared enough to wish you a happy birthday. As you walked in more, you were given a few hugs and a few wished you a happy birthday again in softer voices.

“What will it be for the birthday girl?” Herrmann asked when you finally made it up to the bar.

You ordered your usual with a smile and a thank you.

He set it in front of you. “On the house. Happy birthday, kid.”

“Thank you.” You told him again, this time more meaningful as you picked up the drink, trying hard not to let emotions overwhelm you.

You did a good job at keeping the emotions at bay while you talked with your coworkers - no, friends - but soon enough it was getting to overwhelm you and you had to disappear. It was somewhat easy to do, just lie and say you had to use the bathroom and sneak out the back.

However, you were outside less than a minute when the backdoor opened and closed and none other than Crockett was walking towards you.

“You good?”

“I’m good.” You breathed out, your hot breath making little clouds as you nodded to him. “It’s just that I’ve never really had anyone really care about me. At least not enough to bother making me feel special on my birthday...and then with everyone in there, wishing me a happy birthday and making me feel...loved...it’s just a bit overwhelming.” You admitted, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep the cold out.

Crockett nodded as he leaned against the wall next to you. “That’s understandable.” The two of you were quiet for a moment. “You have people who care about you.”

“Yeah...I know.” You smiled, tears in your eyes. “It’s nice.”

Crockett smiled and nodded. “Especially me.”

You glanced at him for a moment, trying not to read too much into it, and gave him a small smile. “You’re a really good friend, Crockett.” You told him softly, assuming that’s what he meant, and then you had to look away before you said something you’d regret. “I’m glad you saved me from my pity party.” You felt the need to break the silence.

Crockett smirked a bit and nodded, looking straight ahead. “What’re friends for?”

Silence fell between the two of you again and you felt like it was a tense silence and couldn’t figure out why. The cold was starting to get to you, so you looked at him again. “I’m gonna head back inside.” You told him.

“That’s probably a good idea, it’s a little cold out here.” Crockett chuckled, pushing off the wall and heading to the door. He opened it for you and let you step inside first.

“Thank you.” You said softly as you stepped inside and headed back towards the bar where Sylvie was.

“Hey, where’d you go? I thought you ditched out.” Sylvie asked with a laugh.

“Oh I just needed some air.” You brushed it off with a smile, ordering another drink and picking up your conversation that the two of you were having before you had excused yourself earlier in the night.

Until Sylvie suddenly changed the subject. “So what do you think of Dr. Marcel?” She asked in what almost seemed like a suggestive tone.

You just about spit out your drink but were able to control yourself, you looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it seems like you might have a little crush on him.” She told you. “And he seems like he might like you back.”

You frowned a bit and shook your head. “No...we’re just friends.”

Sylvie snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

“We are.” You insisted.

“Okay okay.” Sylvie surrendered. “I just noticed how he looks at you and all.” She shrugged. “But you would know, so if you say you’re just friends then that’s what you are.”

You nodded. “Mhm…”

Across the bar, Crockett was having a very similar conversation with Natalie.

“So did you tell her?” Natalie asked in an excited yet hushed tone.

Crockett shook his head a bit as he sipped his bourbon. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“You’re saying you don’t like her?” Natalie asked, raising a brow, obviously not buying it.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Crockett told her with a sigh.

“So then why didn’t you tell her?” Natalie asked, tilting her head slightly.

Crockett sighed again and glanced over your way before looking at Natalie. “Because in her eyes, we’re just friends, and...I’m okay with that.”

“You are?” Natalie asked, not understanding why he would be.

Crockett nodded. “I’d rather be just her friend than tell her the truth and make her uncomfortable and end up being nothing. I’m happy being her friend.”

Natalie nodded. “Oh...well then...okay.” She had thought you both had liked each other and that it would be all great. Now this was just a downer.

When the end of the night rolled around, you walked with Crockett to his car and he once again opened the door for you, causing you to smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Crockett said softly with a smile.

“Tonight was amazing.” You were feeling the good effects of the drinks you had, making you happy and at ease. “It was by far the best birthday I’ve ever had.” You giggled. “I will forever remember my twenty-seventh birthday.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Crockett told you, glancing over with a smile as you continued to talk about how wonderful your birthday had been.

When you arrived at your apartment complex, you quickly got out of the car. Crockett walked over to you and walked you up.

“You don’t have to walk me to my apartment.” You laughed softly before stumbling into him and laughing more. “Okay, maybe you do.”

“I don’t mind.” Crockett said softly as he walked with you, after the two of you were at your apartment he looked at you. “Are you gonna be okay?”

You hummed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.” You smiled at him and touched his cheek. “You’re such a good friend.”

Crockett smiled at you. “I’m glad we’re friends, Y/N.”

“Me too.” You agreed with a nod, even if you were currently fighting back the urge to kiss him.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Crockett smiled at you and began walking down the hall as you went inside your apartment.

Part Two Coming Soon