#I also made a note about what color Wizard is lol

[void-botanist]

Writing Whispers Challenge

Rules: find a few paragraphs of writing from as long ago as you can. Re-write them how you would now.

@sarahlizziewrites left an open tag for this fun idea, so I went looking for some old writing. I ended up going a little sideways from the original prompt so that I could rewrite a passage from one of my oldest substantive stories, The Princess and the Vampire. I rewrote it a little more than stylistically, but I kept the chain of events the same.

I'll tag @outpost51, @writernopal, and @kingkendrick7 (extra no pressure on this one because I know it can be weird to share your old writing), plus anyone who wants to join in!

2009

His name is Sam. He's a vampire. But he's nothing to be afraid of. Sam owns a house 3 miles out of Bereglet. He has 3 pets, too. His first pet is a golden retriever named Rocky. The next one is a bat named Klaus. And then he has a fish tank full of guppies. Now anyway, Sam was heading to the farmer's market for some fresh fruit. When he got there he overheard two old ladies talking about the princess. Sam asked where he could find the princess. Lucky for him, the ladies didn't see his vampire teeth. They said that they heard the princess was somewhere around Seacliff, which is 60 miles away from where Hermia's tower actually was. Sam bought his fruit, went home, put it away, and got ready to go to Seacliff. Then he went out to the stables and mounted his horse, Wizard. They rode away toward the northwest. Seacliff, in case you didn't guess, is on a strong cliff over the sea.

2023

Sam ducked through the crowd to the nearest stall with peaches. It was blood peach season, finally, and while they didn't really live up to the name, they were still his favorites. As he looked over the bags still on offer, he heard the other thing he'd come for: news. At the next stall over two old ladies were tasting the mustard and having a serious chat about the princess being stuck in a tower. That was a rumor from the capital if he'd ever heard one. And yet, the more he listened, the more he started to believe it, too. Anything could happen with an overly familiar Great Wizard around. The women moved to the peach stall, still deep in conversation. "Excuse me," he said as one made a lull in the conversation by popping a sample into her mouth. "I didn't mean to overhear, but…did you say the princess is in a tower somewhere?" "Yes," they both said a little too intensely. "Where would they have put her?" The second old lady shook her head. "Seacliff, no doubt. No better place to defend." He couldn't argue with that, but apparently her companion could, because they immediately got into an argument. Sam excused himself from it by buying a bag of peaches and slipping away into the crowd. He didn't want to participate, but either way, the longer he stayed, the more likely someone was to notice his fangs. Once he was home, the peaches went on the peach shelf, and he immediately started packing his bag. Wizard seemed to know what was up when he stepped into the stable. As soon as she had a saddle on her pale back and his things were settled into her saddlebag, they were off northwest to Seacliff.

Bonus, based on the next events in the story and the fact that I did not address the fresh fruit in canon lol:

By the time they arrived, almost two hours later, he couldn't put off eating any longer. He checked into the inn, left Wizard in the stable, and climbed the stairs along their threadbare runner to his room. With the door locked tight behind him, he unpacked the one peach he'd brought with him. Holding it in both hands, he slowly pressed his fangs into the skin until it punctured, letting his teeth sink into the firm flesh. There wasn't much juice he could get from a single bite of a peach, but the bite itself was the most satisfying he'd found in something that didn't actually have blood.

#the story ended abruptly as Sam was going up to his room #I think I got distracted and forgot what I wanted to do next lol #none of his pets were mentioned again but he has a fourth one since apparently everyone had a pocket pet? #I also made a note about what color Wizard is lol #c: Sam Rosemary #writing whispers challenge #tag games

[horseshoemybeloved]

wait i am really intrigued with your versions of the suitehearts i love the designs and seeing your take on them so please infodump about them to me about this obscure fob au that i’ve been insane about for years

It is now time for my long ass ( my version of the ) suitehearts masterpost * wiggles fingers *

Keep in mind!!!

So basically first things first, my versions of ‘em are Completely different characters. Some draw/view the suitehearts as fob in silly costumes ( which is super chill ) but my versions are very different. So when I say “ Benzedrine is a repressed gay wizard obsessed with abba“ I am in no ways implying that Patrick is a repressed gay wizard obsessed with abba. There are some similarities between people but it is never intentional. ( also I’m constantly changing stuff nothings set in stone lol )

Da world!

The world is kinda like a purgatory, everyone there has died but could move to another plane. Thusly there are people from all different decades. Magic is very common here, a lot of people can do small basic spells. But it takes years of practice to become a wizard, and decades to become a good one. There are 5 main,,, species? Races? I’m not quite sure how to label em. But we have:

your average human, nothing really of note here

elemental benders ( they are born with a cavity in their chest relating to what “ element “ they control. Some control water some Disco music! )

Pixies/sprites, they usually have abnormal colored skin, pointy ears, and the ability to float around. They naturally have good connection with spirits and can summon them when needed ( if they’re good at it )

Angels, they’re naturally fun colors, have magical hair, and vaguely cow like ears?. Angles can use their magic to make themselves look like normal humans tho. They usually live together and provide comfort for people. But there has been a rebellion happening and now a lot of angels try and live life not for the sole service of others but now for themselves ( is allegory 4 womanhood moment )

And then of course furries xoxo

Now the reason you even started reading this, info about the suitehearts!

Dr. benzedrine is vaguely narcissistic and full of himself, but in an oddly charming way. Personality wise hes a mixture of howl ( hmc ) without Any of the swauve, mostly just the dramatics, and aziraphale ( good omens ). Hes a middle aged man who Will Not admit hes gay, he is Incredibly repressed. He was apart of the huge royal academy of wizards, best one they’d ever had. But had a falling out with the leader in charge and now just has his own little wizard store. He befriended Donnie at a little diner because he made a reference to a Kate bush or Fiona apple song, or something or other. Him and sandman do Not get along, sandman often visits the store just to annoy him. But they have more similarities than they know, they just need to stop bitching at eachother!

( also he was born like 5’ something but the spirits in charge of transferring people to this plane were like “ I’d be mad funny if we made him really short he’d be so mad “ )

He is my autistic little meow meow 😔🙏

Horseshoe has a regal flowyness to him, semi-oblivious to his own charm, and loves to dance the night away. When everyone around him is disheveled and falling apart, he still manages to look fantastic. He appears to be the dumb blonde of the group, which he definitely doesn't mind and loves to indulged in the trope. ( he may not know where or even what Sweden is but at least hes pretty ) But he is a deeply creative person, and that in its own special way shows an intelligence. He works at a small local craft store ( bcus then he gets first dibs on all the cool new art supplies :D ) he is an angel, but chooses to focus his little magical power on constantly disguising himself cus he doesn’t wanna be bothered lol.

Donnie is very nurturing and kind, yet extremely energetic and bubbly, think kinda like,,, super sweet valleygirl. He’s slightly based off YouTuber Garret watts. He is very big solid guy. He has a bit of a problem with feeling like he Needs to take care of everyone, like it’s job ( he’s workin through it in therapy ) Like I mentioned there are people who are like elemental benders, Donnie is one of them. He has a little terrarium with either a mushroom or a daisy, and can make vines grow from his hands and legs. Donnie is also autistic ( heavily based on my experiences with it, he’s also just kinda heavily based off of me ) He's from da 60s, during the whole hippy thing.

Sandman is your typical bitchy mallgoth, who goes around calling everyone a " poser" and everything " poser shit " they put up a bitchy angry front but deep down theyre an insecure sensitive little guy. Sandman is a Pixie so that means they can summon these ( usless ) spirit guys ( they’re not very good at it ) shes also kinda Super into typical """ cringey """ stuff from 2015 ( ie undertale, fnaf, the lving tombstone, mlp ) Sandman is semi kinda not really it’s complicated openly non-binary, but still seems to repress quite a bit and just push away all deeper feelings. I thought it would be interesting to experiment with a character who is a trans femme gay guy, kinda like a reverse trans masc lesbian I guess. Idk lol don’t get mad at me

Anything else kiddo?

The format id choose to express this story would def be a movie. Uhhh… I can’t really think of much else right now, but feel free to ask questions I luv talking about em :3

#this is so cringe but at least I am free #so uhhh yeah 🧍‍♂️ #my art #americas suitehearts #dr benzedrine #horseshoe #Donnie #sandman #ocs #oc story #or as I like to call em ‘ step ocs ‘ #cus maybe I didn’t birth them but I sure as hell raised em #gotta draw me with a ‘ I’m the dad who stepped up’ shirt

[otakween]

Digimon 02: D1 Tamers - Final Thoughts

Woohoo! I beat the Ryo trilogy :D -pops a party popper-

I didn't feel the need to make this multiple posts because this game is verrry similar to the last one (Tag Tamers). The main difference is that it's in glorious color! They also added a couple new features for better or for worse.

This game was fun and addicting just like the other two. There was just a little more grinding than I would hope for. The entire game took me 3 weeks to get through because of that. (Still not too shabby). Full thoughts below the cut.

Notes:

-The plot of this one felt kind of weird and forced. Firstly, I immediately got kind of confused about the chronology because the last game ended with Ken becoming the Digimon Emperor yet he's back to normal in this one. I guess either he hasn't progressed too much yet (it's only been a few days) or this is his IRL façade since we don't see him in the digi world. Anyways, the main plot is that Ryo has to fight in a tournament and if he wins said tournament then he'll become a soldier for the ~Harmonious Ones~ against Moon Millennium. I'm honestly not sure why the digi-Gods were included in this. They added nothing.

-Speaking of the Harmonious Ones, they ask you to pick one at the beginning of the game. I picked Qinglongmon because he was the only one I recognized lol. I'm not sure what the point of this choice was other than the fact that he shows up and says a couple things towards the end.

-Ken gets reduced to a guy-in-the-chair, but a very useful guy in the chair! I found the d-terminal way more handy this time around when it came to figuring out digivolution. Ken tells you exactly how many JP (Jogress points) you need to reach the next level. Honestly, it was a relief not having to tag team in this one too, that was kind of an annoying gimmick.

-Although jogress was still annoying in this game, they thankfully added an item that allows you to add +5 JPs to your digimon which made it so much easier to get some megas on my team. Also, digivolution and skills just felt more intuitive and happened faster this time around which is appreciated.

-I think they realized how OP stun was and nerfed it a bit. It's still a good feeling to win by stunning all the enemy digimon, but stun misses like 60% of the time, so you just waste your turn a lot of the time.

-Playing this right after Tag Tamers was pretty magical because I went from black and white to color (a Wizard of Oz moment). Although the inside of the dungeons were still very repetitive, the outsides were beautiful! (Showcasing some of my faves above).

-One stupid addition that made me mad was the D1 Tournament. This is a Digimon World-style AI vs. AI tournament where you just stare at the screen and hope your digimon win. It was just a slog to get through and I just wanted to get back to the dungeons. I really can't see the appeal in that sort of "gameplay." In fact, I fast forwarded or got up for a snack whenever it got to that part.

-Another lame part about this game is that you can't buy multiple items at once anymore! You could do it in Tag Tamers so why did they go backwards!? You seriously have to buy one item at a time. How dumb.

-I'm pretty proud of my final team: Metal Greymon, King Etemon, and AeroVeedramon. Metal Greymon had poison and curse, King Etemon had stun and AeroVeedramon had the best all-enemies attack. I could of gotten AeroVeedramon to mega as well, but I realized I didn't need to to win and it would have taken another few hours.

-There was a bit more variety in the dungeons compared to Tag Tamers. They all looked the same, but a lot of them had a gimmick. Some of them had puzzles or various ways you were supposed to interact with the bosses to progress. I'm glad they mixed things up a bit since the last game was really straightforward.

-Pretty hilarious that this game ends all ominously by being like "~And then we never saw Ryo again~" but then you hit the new game plus and Gennai's like "Ah, if it isn't Ryo!" Like, clearly the new game plus bit isn't part of the canon storyline, but it still made me chuckle.

-Apparently the only thing to do in new game plus is just continue raising digimon which...no thanks.

-I've heard that this acts as a prequel to Digimon Tamers which is so exciting! I'm glad that I'm doing things in the proper order. One more game (kinda-sorta?) and then I finally get to move on from Adventure 01/02 ;w;

#digimon 02 d1 tamers #digimon #digimon d1 tamers #video games #gaming

[wonderful-writes]

Written from the Heart

Pairing: Tom Riddle x fem!Reader

Word Count: 594

Summary: A short and sweet story about love and letters.

Author’s Note: Okay please please please don’t be mad at me, but I made Tom not evil in this one. It’s really out-of-character, but enjoy the fluff anyway. I might write some more evil Tom stuff in the future though. xx

-

Letters. They were your “thing.”

When you were a little girl, your grandparents would travel the world and send you postcards from all the places they visited. You always responded with a handwritten letter. Each one was filled with doodles and colorful squiggles and eventually words when you were old enough to write.

And when you came to Hogwarts, you made sure to send a letter home to your family every week. You wrote about all the important events in your life, such as the time Professor Slughorn said that your potion was the best. But you also reported all the mundane, everyday things, such as what you had for breakfast a particular day.

In your sixth year, when you started dating Tom, letters became an us thing. You and Tom. It started with passing notes in class (when you were both absolutely sure the professors weren’t looking, of course, because Godric forbid either one of you got into trouble) and eventually graduated to slipping each other confessions of your love.

In his own quiet way, he had been elated to share this tradition with you. Letters were sacred. They were something you exchanged only with the closest of your loved ones. And now, you had extended that circle to him.

As the years passed, love letters stuffed underneath dormitory doors transformed into a means of bridging distances. After graduation, you travelled for work while he took a job at the ministry. Communicating through letters was often the only contact you had.

The two of you constantly wrote to each other, detailing the major milestones you experienced as well as your day-to-day life.

You’d often slip little surprises into your letters, as well. Little knickknacks from your travels, a small trinket here and there. It was not uncommon for him to open a letter with an intricate wax seal from a foreign country you had visited or for you to open one containing a pressed flower he had picked for you.

Exchanging handwritten letters filled with souvenirs and objects that reminded you of each other was the glue that held your relationship together when the distance became too much. But the little bursts of excitement you got whenever you checked the mail to see an envelope with Tom’s pristine cursive were nothing compared to the pure joy of seeing him in person, something that happened only once or twice a year.

Then one day, you sent him a message he wasn’t expecting. In your scrawling script, you wrote three words that sealed the fate of your future.

I’m coming home.

After several years of trotting the globe and exchanging handwritten letters and mementos that reminded you of each other, you finally came home to the man who made the wait worth it.

And when, a few months later, you found a tear-stained piece of parchment with the four words you yearned to hear written in shaky writing, you knew your life was complete.

Will you marry me?

-

Authors Note Part 2: I know this is supposed to be the mid-twentieth century, and a lot of people probably communicated through letters back then (even though the telephone had already been invented). And the fact that they’re witches and wizards mean that they would’ve been more likely to rely on more archaic methods of communication. But let’s pretend that letters are special to Tom and the reader, okay? We’re just gonna go with it lol.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fluff

[admiringlove]

[ii] scents, coffee and turtlenecks

+synopsis: hq boys and their scent, their coffee order and the turtlenecks they wear.

+genre: fluff lol; headcanons.

+characters: kageyama tobio, oikawa tōru, suna rintarō, miya osamu.

+warnings: literally just fluff man, unless you cry because of cute stuff.

+order: hi!! i saw that suggestions are open and i was wondering if you could do more of the scent coffee turtlenecks? they were really fun and comforting to read. they got me through a tough situation, so thank you! i hope you keep writing and keep growing <33 [by anonymous]

+author’s notes: hi anon! funnily enough, i had written some part of this and it was sitting in my drafts halfway done, but your ask helped me get through the rest of it. hope you like it, love. here’s part one!

— KAGEYAMA TOBIO.

his scent is calming. it’s strawberries and mint, and it refreshes you. it’s funny really, the way his favorite flavor of milk is strawberry and how he actually smells like the fruit. whenever you embrace him warmly, a cooling feeling washes over you—it feels like a day off. when you’re overworked and you need time to spend with self-care? yeah, tobio reminds you of that. he’s constantly telling you to take care of yourself more too(which is the irony in this situation). you feel a small pinch in your heart whenever he lets go of you(if he goes out of town for matches or gets up from cuddling). if he’s leaving the city for work, you’d shed a tear, telling him you’d miss him. and when you’d come back home, you’d wear any of his clothing. because kageyama reminds you of a calm afternoon, filled with the scent of strawberries and the alleviating agent like mint. 

he does not order coffee. definitely the type of person to go to the vending machine to buy flavored milk instead of getting coffee. he thinks coffee shops are a waste of time. why would someone pay ten extra bucks for average coffee when you can just get sweet milk from the vending machine? you definitely bully him for this(just point and laugh, [y/n]. point and laugh). he’d get all flustered and yell at you, but then he’d end up hiding his face on a pillow or something. you’d go up to him and hug him, which would lead up to kageyama asking you, “so... the next time you get coffee, i’ll just wait outside, okay?”. you laugh at him again, telling him that he didn’t have to wait outside, but then he retorts with how the barista looks at him weirdly after he asked her if they sold flavored milk. 

kageyama likes wearing a fixed set of colors. he’s not the type of person to go out of the ordinary and wear some absurd color like neon-green, but something like different shades of blue. he definitely doesn’t have two same colored shirts—even if they are, they’re in different shades. he mostly wears blue and black turtlenecks, but he doesn’t mind trying whites or greys either. he does blush every time you compliment him though, so maybe dial it down a little or he’ll combust(you don’t have to, you can just watch his brain go haywire then kiss his forehead to make him go redder than before).

— OIKAWA TŌRU

his scent is so sweet, it’s addicting. it’s either something floral like rose or lavender. or sometimes he’d go with the plain old smoked vanilla. his hugs are the best, really. they’re filled with the sweet aroma circling around the two of you as you inhale his scent. he’d stroke your hair as you hum against him in contentment, saying, “like the cologne, [y/n]-chan?”. you’d tease him, telling him he smelled like an eleven-year-old girl and he’d reply with, “hey! at least eleven-year-old girls know what they’re doing!”.

he does not like coffee. will straight up go to the barista and order the sweetest drink on the menu. this boy just does not do well with the bitterness of coffee. he doesn’t like it, and he’s in shock by how you can drink it so easily. “[y/n]-chan, how are you doing that?!”, he’d exclaim. you’d raise an eyebrow, asking him, “doing what, bub?”. although he really wants to melt at the nickname, he’d say, “that bitter monstrosity!”. this conversation leads nowhere except laughter and jokes, really. some teasing comments are thrown here and there; some criticizing oikawa for having such low tolerance for bitterness, and some at you for what an utter abomination you are for drinking coffee. tie the bow on the gift-box with a small teasing kiss and dancing in the kitchen without music at seven in the morning, because oikawa felt like it. your relationship is like the marriage of bitterness and sweetness—somewhere close to perfect.

he can wear anything and still look good. has a wide variety of turtlenecks—and he’ll definitely wear them according to his mood for the day. although most of the colors are on the lighter side, he has a few blacks in the mix as well. he likes the pastel-blue one the most(because, according to him, “blue is just my color, [y/n]-chan!”). he has the tendency to match with you. loves buying you the same shirts as him, because he thinks it’s adorable when you walk around with him and match his clothing. basks in the glory of when people look and compliment the two of you, and you blush(he thinks you’re cute, okay?). 

— SUNA RINTARŌ

suna definitely smells like cigarettes and lime basil. he doesn’t smoke often, it’s just the scented candles he buys online(he thinks it’s funny because the candles are cigarette-scented). you often tell him he stinks, but he knows you’re only poking around. he knows you love the scent he gives off when you hold on to him just a little tighter, just a little longer, just a little closer. the kisses linger for a smidge longer, and he knows. he knows you love his scent and he knows you love him. he’s not cocky about it until you tease him though, because if you do say he stinks, he’ll pull you into a passionate kiss(and obviously, you don’t pull away). after he breaks the kiss, he’d say, “if i really do stink, you wouldn’t be sticking to me like glue.”

his coffee is either completely black, or just a normal latte. he doesn’t like really milky, or sweet coffee. also most definitely just uses coffee as a way to stay up(suna likes nights more than days). he likes staying up late with you, doing homework or anything really, until you’re dozing off next to him and he’s left in comfortable silence. he’ll run his hands through your hair, his slow breathing silent and his sharp eyes softened just by looking at you. he likes coffee. he really does. he likes coffee because it helps him stay awake and watch you peacefully. he falls asleep by four in the morning, and now it’s your turn to watch suna sleep. you make him a mug of coffee and breakfast. it’s a leisure-filled morning, and rin loves every part of it. he won’t tell you he does though, because you already know. and he knows you do.

suna rintarō in turtlenecks is a sight for sore eyes. he has a lot of greens, blacks, and greys. his style is to effortlessly look good, so he doesn’t actually care about what he wears unless it’s to impress someone(*cough* you) or for work. if he doesn’t have the energy to do something that’s eye-catching, he’ll just wear a turtleneck and pair it with plaid pants to call it a day. man still gets stares from people because of how effortlessly cool he is. he’s not even trying, which is the best part. he looks so good(cue you drooling in the background because suna in a black turtleneck and green plaid pants is just wow). and if he’s actually putting in effort for a date or something, he goes all the way with the accessories. rings, necklaces, maybe even wears his reading glasses because they look good with his overcoat. olive green turtleneck and white dickies would definitely suit him. after all, he wants to look the best for you. 

— MIYA OSAMU. 

he has one of the most comforting, woody scents ever. he has two bottles—one vetiver(it gives a smoky scent and he usually wears it to work) and one patchouli(more woodland-ish kind of scent. he wears it when he’s going out with you or on special occasions). you love the way he smells, because honestly, the most comforting time of the day is when he comes back home, and the first thing you do is hug him. you’ll take the dinner he made for the two of you at the restaurant and set it up as he changes and freshens up. his aroma overcomes you as the two of you sit down an talk about your day through the meal. his tired grin and you small giggles enough to make you feel content. and man, he’s the best to cuddle with as you sleep. he smells so good, it’s kind of scary. in the mornings, it’s almost hard to let go of him so you can get to work.  

okay, we all know osamu is a sucker for food. but he’s also a pain in the ass when the two of you go to coffee shops. orders something fancy like café au lait, then continues to complain about how this particular coffee shop didn’t do the french drink justice. all the while, you’re just listening to him criticize the place(but you still love him, because he looks cute talking about the things he loves). you’ll leave the shop after an hour or so, and then just settle for a bowl of ramen from a small diner by your apartment because that seems to be the only thing that gets osamu off his high horse. by the end of the night, you’d tell him to quit acting like gordon ramsey. he’d retort by telling you that you would obviously prefer his food over gordon ramsey’s anyday(i mean, you can’t disagree with that. even if you tell him he’s being dumb, you know he’s right on the inside. osamu basically is a wizard with food).

osamu likes grey and black, and that’s about it. he’d try more stuff if you make him though. gets annoyed at the mall because you’re just picking out different colors for him to try and he’s just standing off to the side holding like ten different articles of clothing. he looks amazing in a chartreuse-green if you get him to wear it(will like how it look on his abs, he doesn’t tell you though). every canonical color suits him to be honest, just don’t go overboard with the neons or purples. he likes to keep it simple with the dark colors(black turtleneck osamu is a looker). and he definitely becomes all blushie-blushie if you tell him he looks pretty. looks away and puts his hand over his mouth a little(you should definitely take a picture of this, it looks so wrong and suggestive but it’s just him being a blushing mess). please, just hug him or something. 

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

#haikyuu!! #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyuu angst #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu oikawa #haikyu kageyama #haikyu osamu #haikyu suna #suna rintaro x reader #suna #suna rintarou #suna rintarō #suna rintaro hcs #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro headcanons #suna rintaro x y/n #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x y/n #haikyuu osamu #osamu miya headcanons #oikawa tōru #oikawa tooru #oikawa toru x reader #hq oikawa

[plant-flwrs]

Can I request a ilvermorny transfer x one of the twins? I think it'll be cool if she wore roller skates to school (charmed by yours truly) since it's the 90s and she's cool but super sweet and caring - maybe when they invite her over to the burrow for the summer or their birthday she can give them a pair? Thanks ily!!!

roller skates // fred weasley 

masterlist!

a/n: ok i always feel bad when my fics take so long to set up and theres barely any like actual romance and i am trying to work on it. i think its hard for me to go into a fic where a relationship is already established, so i like writing them coming together and the immersion of it. but i hate reading fics where it takes forever to get to the good parts so just know that i will be trying to work on that flaw in my writing! thanks so much for reading! (i made the reader from florida just because my mind blanked on any other places that don’t have snow lol, but it’s not really relevant in any other situations so ignore it if u please) also just realizing all of my summaries sound scary and ominous also just realizing how i say way too much in these author notes im so sorry bye

summary: The American transfer student draws attention to herself with her accent, but Fred is drawn to something else about her.

(10.4k hehe sorry :D)

-----

Looking around at the students bustling past you, the only word you could think of was “proper”.

Looking down at your muggle clothes, loose and mismatched, your hair resting naturally, the only word you could think to describe yourself with was “improper”.

A boy with a permanent scowl and striking blond hair glanced your way, and the taller adults behind him followed his eye line. The three of them looked you up and down and their mouths all distorted into nasty grimaces. You felt your father’s comforting hand clasp over your shoulder, trying to help you remember everything he had said to you before arriving at King Cross Station.

“They aren’t that different from us,” he repeated, and you could tell he was doubting himself as he glanced at the uptight children and their matching parents.

He guided you forwards, and you pushed your large cart in front of you, navigating through the crowd. It started to separate around you, and even more odd glances were thrown your way. You supposed you should have felt a little insecure- you looked quite out of place- but the feeling could not overwhelm the excitement you felt. You had read all about Hogwarts, its history, its architecture, and you even picked up a few books about muggle London.

You were stood in your father's embrace, about to board. Your things were stored away, and you heard the train roaring louder and louder. You glanced around, the fathers in their dress shirts and ties, mothers in long skirts and blouses. Their children wore sweaters and jeans, or suit jackets and dress pants.

Something caught your eyes, though; a few feet away there was a large family, mingling in embraces. They all had flaming red hair, and their clothes looked like yours. In fact, your clothes resembled the oldest woman’s clothes, mismatched and colorful. Her eyes watered, and she smoothed down the hair on a fidgeting boy.

“Ronald, hold still!” she shouted at him, and he reluctantly allowed his mother to soothe his red hair down into a part on the side.

Once the woman had moved onto another child, Ronald roughed his hair back to the mess it was before. The woman now clutched a smaller boy, who looked like he was Ronald’s age, by the shoulders. She moved a hand to soothe his unruly hair off his forehead. Your eyes widened when you saw the lightning bolt on his forehead.

The books you had bought about the English Wizarding World did not neglect to mention the boy who lived. Elbowing your father, you both cast glances at the family. Your father nodded his head, looking impressed at the sight of Harry Potter.

“Thanks again Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, and it sounded like he had said it millions of times before.

Mrs. Weasley waved off the two boys, who went to gather a girl with large bushy hair.

“Come on ‘Mione! We’ve got to get a good compartment,” Ronald said impatiently, tugging the girl's arm onto the train.

Mrs. Weasley was left with four other children. One of them looked like all the other proper British people you had seen at the station, a permanent sneer on his face. He shook his head stiffly at his mother and shook his father’s hand. You thought it was quite odd, and two identical boys standing with the family couldn’t contain their laughter.

“Yes,” one of them started, doubling over in a bow, “good day, mother,” he said pompously, imitating his brother.

“May you have a wonderful few months,” the other started, moving to shake his father’s hand as his brother had moments ago, “I’ll be looking for your owl,” he said, sounding incredibly posh.

The younger girl, with the same fiery hair, began to giggle, earning a scowl from the eldest brother as he boarded the train.

The girl pulled her mother in for a hug, and then her father, and waved to them fervently as she followed after her brother.

“You boys, stay out of trouble!” Mrs. Weasley said to the remaining twins, waving a finger at them.

“We always do, mum,” one said, and it was obvious by his tone that they didn’t often stay out of trouble.

They waved to their parents at the same time, stepping onto the train with a certain enthusiasm.

You averted your gaze, looking anywhere but at the family you had been staring at. You looked up at your father, hugging him one last time. When you pulled back, you heard his name being called.

“Mr. Y/n?” the voice called out, approaching the two of you.

It was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley already had his hand stuck out to your father.

“I’m Arthur Weasley, I’ve been the one to hire you at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry. This is my wife, Molly. Funny to meet you here,” he said politely, looking at you and your father in a nicer way than any other wizard had during your time at the station. His eyes didn’t wander down to your brightly colored shoes, or your patterned pants, and he didn’t even cast a second glance at your oversized, offensively colored sweater. You beamed at him.

“Oh! Yes, it’s great to meet you,” your father said, shaking his hand. He squeezed your shoulder, jostling you a bit, “This is my daughter, Y/n.”

“Oh, would you hear that accent, Arthur!” Molly gasped, smiling as if she was astonished. Your father chuckled at her reaction. You supposed it would happen to you a lot at Hogwarts.

They both smiled at you, and Arthur offered you his hand to shake. You held your hand out, but the sleeve of your sweater swallowed the limb. You shook the extra clothing away, and Molly chuckled. Finally shaking his hand, you held it out to Molly. She bypassed your hand and began to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.

“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, accomplished, at you.

“Better get her going,” your father said, and the Weasleys nodded at you.

“Have a good term, dear,” Molly said to you, patting your shoulders the way she had done to Harry.

“Thank you,” you repeated, moving past them and heading onto the train.

You waved one last time at your father, and the door closed behind you.

You wandered down the isles, looking for an empty place to sit. You pretended to look like you knew where you were going, hoping fewer people would stare at you if you did. Your plan didn’t work, and you caught the eyes of almost everyone you passed.

You had made it to the end of the train, and your eyes peered into the last cabin. It was empty except for a girl and a boy. They seemed friendly enough, so you slid open the door.

“Mind if I sit with you guys?” you asked, and the boy looked at you quizzically when he heard your voice.

“Not at all,” the girl said.

She had strikingly blonde hair and gray eyes that poured deeply into you. She had a faint smile on her lips, and her head was cocked to the side.

“I’m Luna Lovegood,” she said, and her voice was light and airy, “This is Neville Longbottom.”

The boy shifted in his seat, casting a shy glance at you. He raised a shaky hand and gave you a curt wave.

You smiled widely at the two of them, glad you seemed to have picked the right place to sit.

The train ride went fast enough. Luna asked you all sorts of questions about America, and you asked her all sorts of questions about England. When Neville warmed up to you, he asked some questions about Ilvermorny. They asked what house you had been in there, and you told him you were a Thunderbird, the soul of the witch.

“Where do you reckon she’ll be sorted into here?” Neville asked Luna. You leaned forwards, curious for the answer.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, peering into a magazine she had balanced into her lap, “but if I’m lucky, it’ll be Ravenclaw.”

“Which one is Ravenclaw?” you asked, trying to remember what you had read.

“The wise and witty,” Luna said, moving her robes to show the crest on it. It was blue with a bird over it.

“A raven, clever,” you said, looking closer at Neville’s red-trimmed robes.

“You’d think,” he said, “but it’s an eagle. I’m a Gryffindor, we’re meant to be brave but,” he trailed off, and Luna placed a comforting hand on his arm.

“Oh, stop it, Neville,” she said gently, her gaze back onto you, “there's Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

You nodded, recalling what little you read.

“My dad said he figured I would be a Hufflepuff. The Ministry told him he was a Ravenclaw, he had to do the silly sorting hat and everything,” you said, and Neville smiled at you.

“Hufflepuff? They’re quite nice, I suppose,” he said, sounding disappointed that you weren’t in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

“Well, we won’t know for sure,” Luna said, closing her magazine, “until-” but the train’s brakes began to screech.

Her smiled widened, and you looked down at your robes you had changed into. Maybe now people would be less inclined to stare, you thought.

You were right, but only briefly. Once you had gotten to the Great Hall, you were shuffled in with the first years. Your face burned a slight red the whole time, your larger and older stature standing out amongst the sea of younger students. Your name was called, and you heard a faint whooping coming from the table of red.

You glanced at it, seeing Neville lowering a cheering fist from the air. He looked around nervously, and you saw one of the Weasley twins glancing at his quizzically. You smiled at Neville’s support and sat in the stool.

An old and tattered hat was lowered onto your head, and suddenly it began speaking in your ear.

“Hm, very interesting. You’re not from here, that’s obvious,” it spoke quickly, echoing in your skull, “but I think the choice is simple. I’d say,”

Suddenly the voice left your skull and boomed into the room, for everyone to hear.

“Hufflepuff!”

Cheers from a table full of yellow sounded off, some raising from their seats and clapping for you. You beamed, moving off the stool and skipping cheerfully towards the table. You walked down the aisle between the red and yellow, and Neville’s hand stuck out at you.

“Congratulations!” he said excitedly, holding his hand up for a high five.

You hit his hand, and he waved you off.

A girl with a yellow tie and dark hair waved you over. She inched over, giving you room to sit with her.

“I’m Sarah, happy to have you in Hufflepuff!” she beamed, and you didn’t think you would ever get used to the British accents.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you watched her eyes widen at the sound of your voice, “I’m Y/n.”

“You’re American! You must have come from that American school, what’s it called, Ilmorny?” she asked, ducking her head and whispering as the sorting continued.

“Ilvemorny,” you corrected her, still smiling.

Sarah asked you a lot of the same questions Neville and Luna had asked, but you didn’t mind answering them. She had even offered to give you a tour of the school tomorrow, with the promise that you would choose the bed next to her’s in the dorm.

Sarah had lived up to her promise. You walked with your head permanently tilted upwards, admiring the greatness of the castle. Sarah ate with you at every meal and even insisted on walking you to your classes until you knew the way on your own. She had been so nice to you, and when Luna told you about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, you knew you had to ask her to go with you.

The two of you walked through the snow, wrapped up in matching yellow and black scarves. She had linked her arm with yours and pulled along to all her favorite shops.

The two of you ducked into The Three Broomsticks, sick of the ice sticking to your face.

You saw a red scarf and a blue scarf sitting at a table, and when you saw the flow of blonde hair peeking from the blue one, you knew who it was. You pulled Sarah over to Luna and Neville, and Neville told you to pull up two chairs. You introduced Sarah to Luna and Neville.

“We’re just waiting for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to meet us,” Neville said, smiling cheerfully.

“Oh, should we go?” you asked, offering to free up your chair.

“No, no, stay,” Luna urged you, pulling your arm back down, “I’ll introduce you.”

This was how you were going to meet Harry Potter, you thought, huddled up at a small table, drinking a foamy beverage that left a little white mustache on your upper lip.

Harry was just like every other kid, and he was with the people you had seen at the station that day.

“What did you say your last name was?” Ron asked, leaning over the table so you could hear him.

“Y/l/n,” you said.

“Does your dad work for the Ministry?” he asked, and you nodded, “Our dads work together!” he said, elbowing Harry.

“Her dad is the bloke my dad was raving about all summer, the guy from America,” Ron said to Harry, and Harry nodded at you.

“What a coincidence,” you said, dipping your head to take another sip of the drink Sarah had ordered you.

You all fell into a natural conversation, and Hermione asked to switch seats with Sarah at one point. Sarah had no protests, filing easily into the seat next to Harry, glancing at him dreamily.

“Will you tell me about America? I’ve been to other parts of Europe for holidays, but never America. What’s it like? How different are the wizards?" Hermione sounded off questions like she had them rehearsed, but you were happy to answer them.

You and she were in a fit of laughter after she had told you about her parents’ reaction to her letter. Your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, as Hermione recounted her mother’s jumping up and down.

You were so involved with your conversation with Hermione, you hadn’t noticed Ron’s brothers come into the restaurant.

“Hello, Ickle Ronniekins,” one of them teased, messing a hand through Ron’s overgrown hair, “when are you gettin’ a hair cut?”

“Mum’s gonna cut it all off the second you get home,” the other said, pulling a chair in between Luna and Ron. The other pulled a chair in between Harry and Sarah, and you didn’t miss Sarah’s annoyed sigh at the interruption.

You and Hermione were recovering from your laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing heavily.

“What’s so funny ladies?” one of them said, shoving Ron aside so he could rest his elbows on the table.

“Just telling Y/n about how my parents reacted to my letter from Hogwarts,” Hermione sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You’re the famous Y/n?”

“The American?”

Ron elbowed each of his brothers in their sides, frowning at them.

“That’s me,” you answered cheerfully, smiling at them, “Are you Ron’s brothers?”

“More like,” one of them started.

“Best friends,” the other finished.

“He really would be nowhere if it weren’t for us,” they said at the same time.

A smile slid across your face; it was easy to smile around your new friends, you found.

Hogwarts was better than you could have ever hoped. You wrote to your father nearly every week, recounting the amazing things you had done with Sarah, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The seven of you were becoming inseparable.

Luna’s blue tie dangled over your face as you lay on her lap, she was trying this odd head charm she had read about in the Quibbler. Your head rested in between her legs, back on the ground. Her skinny fingers were pressed to your temple, and they hesitantly pressed into your skin.

“Is that right?” she asked, consulting the cartoon pictures that moved on the Quibbler laying next to her.

“I don’t reckon, it doesn’t feel like anything’s happening,” you said, sitting up and rubbing where Luna’s fingers had been.

“Neville,” Luna said, motioning him over. His face grew white as she pulled him into him, moving to where you had been. Luna’s fingers pressed against Neville’s head, and his eyes fluttered closed. Luna began to hum to herself, and Neville smiled.

You crawled over to sit by Ron under the tree. Sarah was talking to Harry, her eyes dazed over as he gently brushed off a leaf that had fallen on her shoulder. Hermione was near, her head resting on her bag, laying on her back with his legs crossed. She was deep into a muggle book you recognized, and you couldn’t blame her for not wanting to put it down.

“Hi, Ron,” you snapped him out of his thoughts, ending his obvious staring at Hermione, “enjoying the weather?”

“Yeah, it’s just about my favorite time of year,” he said, twisting a blade of grass in his fingers.

The snow had melted, winter break had ended. Ron was able to shed his mother's heavy knitted sweaters and wear some of his more comfortable shirts.

“I quite liked the winter,” you said, your head leaning against the tree, “it was my first time seeing snow.”

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell us that?” Ron asked, seeming bewildered.

“Don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling at him.

“Hermione! Oi, Hermione! Y/n had never seen snow before she came here,” Ron said, calling out to Hermione.

“I know, she’s from Florida,” Hermione said, uninterested, head still buried in her book.

“Florida? Why didn’t I know that?” Ron asked, feeling out of the loop.

“Don’t know,” you repeated, shrugging again.

“Because you don’t ask, Ron,” Hermione said, sounding unpleased with Ron’s loud volume.

You stifled a laugh, but Ron looked at you, feeling guilty.

“Hermione’s right, I guess,” Ron said, casting a sad glance at you.

“It’s alight, Ron, I won’t hold it against you,” you reassured, and Ron perked up a little.

“Tell me one thing no one else here knows about you,” Ron said urgently. To this, Hermione closed her book and lay it on her chest, interested in what you were going to say.

You thought about it. You didn’t have anything to hide from your friends, but you felt yourself blanking on even the littlest fact about yourself. You tried to think of any special abilities you had, besides being a wizard, or any life events that were significant. The only thing you thought of was the hesitance you had when packing your trunk for school, debating on whether or not to bring your roller skates with you. Ilvermorny had allowed them, and you skated to nearly all your classes. The school's cold granite floors were just begging to be skated across, you had thought, and it was ten times faster than walking.

You thought about your skates, you missed them more than you thought you would. The white boots with slick, black wheels and rainbow laces were one of your most prized possessions. You wondered now, again, if you would have gotten in trouble for bringing your roller skates to school.

“Oh, alright, I’ve thought of something,” you began, and Hermione sat up a little, resting on her elbows.

“I really like to roller skate,” you said proudly.

“Roller skate?” Hermione and Ron repeated at the same time. Ron sounded confused, but Hermione sounded entertained.

“Yeah.”

“Like from the 80′s?” Hermione asked, still sounding entertained.

“They’re making a comeback,” you defended.

“What’s roller skate?” Ron asked, looking between you and Hermione.

“It’s like shoes with wheels on them,” Hermione said, used to having to explain muggle inventions her friend, “You tie them up and you skate around.”

“What do you do that for? Do they go really fast?” Ron asked.

“They can,” you said, “but it’s really just for fun. I used to take them with me to Ilvermorny and go to my classes on them, but I didn't know if Hogwarts allowed them.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Ron asked, “Are they dangerous?”

“They're not dangerous, I suppose you could fall on them, but it’s not as bad as that Quidditch game you guys play,” you explained, “I just didn’t know if Hogwarts allowed those kinds of muggle things.”

Ron and Hermione nodded, and Hermione looked to be in deep thought.

“I’m sure they would,” she said, returning back to her book.

“What do you reckon they’re doing down there?” Fred asked, looming over George’s shoulder as he held the Marauder’s Map in his hands.

“Do you think Ron’s finally gonna get a girlfriend?” George teased, looking at you and Ron sitting together under the tree.

Fred sneered at his brother. Ever since he had told George he thought you were cute, it seemed George wanted to push his buttons any way he could. He would make jokes about you and Ron flirting, and for some reason it made his blood boil. He hadn’t even spoken to you on more instances than he could count on a hand, but he was enticed by you.

Your eyes were always moving, and they were always wide with excitement. He thought you were beautiful, you were always wearing your muggle clothes when you didn’t have to wear your uniform. You dressed kind of like his mum, he realized one day, but in a cooler way. That’s the word, cool, he thought you were cool. You fit in easily with Ron’s friends, you could talk about anything, and you were always so sweet.

“Where are they going now?” George wondered out loud, watching the names on the map begin to move.

You got up and dusted off your pants, feeling the baggy jean material under your fingers. You helped Ron up, offering him a hand and pulling him off the ground. You, Ron, and Hermione trailed after Harry and Sarah, who trailed after Neville and Luna. You had all been feeling a bit warm outside, so you decided to go to the Gryffindor common room for the rest of the afternoon. You and Sarah were always excited to go to the Gryffindor common room, feeling it was a nice change from yours in the basement.

Fred’s eyes watched as you, Ron, and Hermione walked together towards the Gryffindor common room. He suddenly felt nervous, even though he was up in his dorm with George. He stood, and looked at himself in the mirror. He pulled down at the bottom of his shirt, tugging uncomfortably at the way it clung to his arms. He hadn’t been dressed to impress, and he usually didn’t, but at the sight of your name getting closer to his on the map, he ignored George’s torments and changed into nicer pants and a more flattering shirt.

Harry stepped passed Neville, who had forgotten the password, and held open the portrait for everyone as they stepped through. You, Sarah, Luna, and Hermione occupied the biggest couch in front of the fire, and Neville and Ron took the armchairs on either side of you. Harry sat on the floor in between Ron’s chair and where Sarah had sunk into the corner of the couch.

Sarah beamed at you, taking notice of the small action, and you wiggled your eyebrows back at her. She blushed and leaned over the side of the couch, resting her chin in her hand and starting a conversation with Harry.

Hermione pulled her book from her bag again, reading the pages eagerly. You and Luna sat shoulder to shoulder as Luna began to tell you about her plans for the summer.

“I think I’ll try to learn French,” she said, toying with some sunglasses she pulled from her pocket.

“You’re going to learn French?” you repeated, a smile pulling up your lips.

“I think so, might also help my dad with his plums,” Luna said, turning to you as she slipped on the sunglasses. They overcame her face, entirely oversized and wonderful. They were bright green and had purple lenses that were reflective. You could see your wide and amused smile in them.

“Your father grows plums?” you inquired, always enjoying conversation with Luna.

“Yes, they’re Dirigible Plums.”

“What are those?”

Luna pulled her hair back and showed you a pair of earrings she wore. They looked like little orange balloons, but leaves hung from them.

“Oh, those are very pretty, Luna,” you said, admiring them.

“My dad says they make you wiser,” she explained, “so he grows them in his garden.”

“And you wear them as earrings,” you said, smiling at her.

“Yes,” she nodded and gave you a crooked grin.

“What are your plans for the summer?” Luna asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. My father will be working, so I’ll probably be home all day,” you said, feeling a little lonely already, “I’ll have my roller skates though.”

Luna looked at you, confused, but you were more talking to Ron anyways, who you noticed was listening to your conversation.

“You should come to the Burrow this summer! Everyone does, even for just for a week,” Ron said, standing and moving over to sit on the coffee table in front of you.

“That sounds cool, I’d love to,” you said, grinning at Ron.

You looked around you and felt so lucky, lucky to have found such kind and accepting people at your new school.

Pacing upstairs, Fred smoothed down his hair before ruffling it again and then smoothing it. He knew you were downstairs, and he knew he wanted to talk to you, but you just made him so nervous. He never gets nervous.

George sat with his elbows on his knees, eyebrows raised, watching his brother obviously losing his mind.

“Just go down and talk to her,” he said, a little afraid his brother might explode, “you’re gonna wear a hole in the ground.”

Fred stopped where he stood, near the door. He sighed heavily and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard, “I’ll just go talk to her.”

Fred recalled the day he had formally met you at the Three Broomsticks. He was smooth, able to mask the way your curious gaze had made his stomach flutter. He couldn’t very well go down there and make a fool of himself, could he?

“Oi Fred!” he heard Lee call from where he stood near Harry, which was also near you, “Come over here a minute.”

Fred sauntered over, forcing himself not to stare at you.

Hermione had put down her book, and Luna had left to go to her own common room to do some homework. You and Hermione sat cross-legged facing each other, playing a muggle card game.

“Yeah?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the banister of the fireplace.

Harry and Lee sat at two wooden chairs near the fireplace, only a few feet away from the couch you were on. This angle allowed him to watch you as your head threw back in laughter as Hermione scowled at her losing the game. His eyes easily flickered back to Lee, who pulled him into the conversation he and Harry were having about Quidditch.

Ginny walked through the portrait hole, returning from some Quidditch training she had been doing. Ginny was taking Quidditch very seriously this year and had taken to exercising on the pitch with Angelina every weekend.

“Ginny!” Ron called out to her, putting down the newspaper he was reading. He waved her over with a hurried hand.

“What?” she said, plopping down on the empty space next to Hermione, “What game are you guys playing?”

You looked up from the deck of cards you had begun to shuffle as Hermione told her.

“Ginny,” Ron said again, pulling his sister’s attention back to him.

“Hm?” she said, and it was very obvious she was tired from her day's activities.

“Have you asked anyone over for the summer yet?” Ron asked, and his eyes flicked to you, “I just invited Y/n, so I don’t want it getting too crowded.”

Ginny looked over to you, her gaze becoming analytical. You raised a hand to wave and cast her a kind smile, and she returned it.

“I don’t have anything planned, it should be fine,” Ginny turned away from Ron and back towards you and Hermione, “When are you lot coming? At the same time?”

You looked towards Hermione, not knowing the answer.

“Oh, I didn’t have any specific ideas yet, Ron’s just asked me. Still have to write to my dad,” you said, and Hermione nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be the usual time for me, though,” Hermione said, and Ginny smiled.

“What’s the usual time?” you asked, beginning to deal the cards to you and Hermione.

“A few weeks before school starts, Mrs. Weasley takes us all to Diagon Alley for our school things,” Hermione said, speaking fondly of the memory.

“Should I ask my dad to come then, when Hermione does?” you looked towards Ron, “Unless I should come at a different time,” you said, not trying to intrude.

“That would be perfect! Harry comes ‘round that time too, so we’ll all see each other,” Ron said.

He looked over at Harry, and upon seeing his brother, he called Fred over the way he had done to Ginny.

“Fred, have you invited anyone home for summer yet?”

Fred’s gaze immediately went to you, and he found you looking at him too.

“Yeah,” he said, pushing himself off the wall and over to Ron.

“Who?” Ron said, curious because his brothers usually didn’t have people over to the Burrow during holidays.

“George,” he said, smirking.

“Git,” Ron mumbled under his breath.

“Why do you ask, Ickle Ronniekins?”

“I just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t get too crowded when Hermione, Harry, and Y/n come ‘round,” Ron said, squirming as Fred forced himself into Ron’s seat that was only big enough for one of them.

Fred’s cool demeanor dropped for a moment, his eyes widening. He quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around Ron.

“How considerate of you,” he said, giving his brother an unwanted side hug.

Ron got up from his seat, leaving Fred to sit by himself. He watched you with unblinking eyes as you listened to Ginny talk about her time with Angelina on the pitch.

Looking down at your packed to the brim suitcase, you glance to the corner of your room. Your pristine roller skates sat there, one on their side. They looked sad and forgotten, but you knew that wasn’t true. Ever since you had gotten home from Hogwarts, you had taken to skating around ‘muggle’ London. You had also just gotten used to saying ‘muggle’.

Your father left early and got home late, and part of you was jealous that he got to see a Weasley every day and you didn’t. To ease your envy, you took to your skates.

You weren’t sure if you should pack them with you for Ron’s house. You were leaving when your father got home for work, the two of you setting off just before dark. You shoved a sweater deeper into your bag, making room for the skates.

Your father was to eat dinner with the Weasleys, sleep on the couch, and set off with Mr. Weasley for work in the morning. No point in two trips, they figured.

You were traveling by Flu powder, and your father went first. He heaved your bag into the fireplace with him and erupted in green flames. You carried a backpack on your shoulder, filled with little things that couldn’t fit in your suitcase.

Fred was more nervous and excited than he had ever felt in his whole life. He was determined to chat you up this summer, at least do something to make sure you knew he existed. He had been pacing in he and George’s shared room, but George pulled him down to the kitchen and made him drink some tea, hoping to calm him down.

You twisted your fingers, looking nervously into the fireplace. You were extremely excited to spend the remaining weeks of your summer with the Weasleys, but a small part of you was scared. You were nervous that Ron’s parents wouldn’t like you as much as they did at the train station. You were nervous that Ron, and his siblings, would get sick of having you around. You were nervous that you would become a burden.

You had been writing with Hermione, and she ensured you of how kind the Weasleys were. She told you that you had nothing to worry about, and you felt a little relieved.

You had visited Sarah a couple of times during the summer. She lived fairly close, close enough for you to take muggle transportation. Her family was welcoming and all had wide eyes at your accent. Thinking of their kindness, you felt confident enough to finally step into the fireplace.

Green flames surrounded you, and within seconds, you were stood in a different fireplace. It was a little shorter, and you were glad you had hunched over a little. Mr. Weasley and your father were shaking hands off to the side, over by a large couch. Mrs. Weasley was looking into the fireplace and waving you out. Ron was trudging your suitcase upstairs already, and Hermione and Ginny stood by Mrs. Weasley smiling widely. You noticed Fred and George sat at a large wooden table near the kitchen both drinking some tea and eating.

You took a step from the fireplace, making sure to wipe off any ash that may have stained your clothes, and allowed Mrs. Weasley to pull you into a hug.

“Oh, so good to see you again, dear!” she said, rocking you back and forth in the suffocating hug.

You didn’t care if you couldn’t breathe, you decided at that moment that Molly Weasley gave the absolute best hugs. She released you, patting your shoulders and running a loving hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You beamed at her, and she smiled back at you.

When she moved away, Hermione quickly replaced her. Hermione’s arms pulled you close, wrapping around your backpack.

“I missed you!” she said, smiling at you.

“I missed you too!” you said, nearly ‘awing’ at everyone’s kindness.

Ginny hugged you too, and when you stepped away, Ron had come back downstairs. You hugged him, and then Harry, and finally you were left to be able to breathe your own air.

The house around you was adorable. It was better than you could have ever imagined. Magic was everywhere, and everything just felt like home.

“You’ll be staying with me and Ginny,” Hermione said to you from her spot next to you at the table.

“Perfect,” you replied, the same awestruck smile plastered on your face since you had arrived.

Fred looked at you from across the table. He felt like his dinner was moving in his stomach, and his hands were sweating. He’d nearly dropped his fork three times. He breathed deep, and when the conversation lulled, he took his chance.

“How has your summer been, Y/n?” he asked, and you looked up from your plate to him.

He nearly died, your happy eyes looking at him.

“Great!” you said, wiping your hands on your napkin in your lap, “I’m glad to finally be here.”

He smiled back at you, and it took him a moment to realize he’d been staring for a little too long, and that you had asked him a question.

“My summer? Oh, my summer’s been good too,” he replied, nodding.

You looked to George, who was next to him and raised your eyebrows, inviting his answer.

“It’s been good,” he said casually, and then an evil grin spread across his face, “but I think Fred’s just about worn my ear off talking about you.”

Fred coughed, choking on his mashed potatoes. His face went red, and he looked at his twin with an anger George had never seen before. Fred quickly looked back at you, as if to gauge your reaction. Your head was tilted down, but a shy smile was on your face and a blush crept on your cheeks.

Fred’s anger subsided at the sight of it, but when George kicked him from under the table, he was reminded.

“What is wrong with you?” Fred asked, nearly yelling at his brother in the privacy of their own room.

“I gave you a push,” George answered, not looking up from the Zonko’s catalog in his hands.

Fred simmered, coming to the realization that George was right. He fell onto his bed, thinking back to the pink on your cheeks and the bashful curl of your lips.

He didn’t know how he was meant to sleep, painfully aware of the fact that you were asleep just a room away.

“Did you hear what George said to Y/n at dinner?” Hermione asked, pulling Ginny into the argument you were having once she got out of the shower.

Ginny shook her head, removing the towel from her hair, “No, what’d he say?”

You rolled your eyes at Hermione as she divulged into every little detail of what George had said.

“And Fred could not stop staring!” she finished, and you let out an exaggerated breath.

“He was not staring!”

“Yes, he was,” Ginny said cheekily, sitting down on her bed.

“Ginny!” you said, giving up hope of having her on your side.

“He totally fancies you,” Hermione said.

Your face twisted for two reasons: the word ‘fancies’, and the fact that she thought Fred Weasley might fancy you.

“He does not!”

Ginny sat on her bed, listening to you and Hermione go back and forth. She knew Fred fancied you, he had since they had been at school. She saw his longing looks, the way he looked at you first after he told a joke, and the pure admiration he had in his eyes any time he looked at you. It especially convinced her when Fred had been talking about you all summer. She came to a decision.

“He does,” she said, watching Hermione’s face change into the proud one she wore when she answered a question right in class. Your mouth hung open.

“What?” Hermione’s gaze turned towards you, and she smiled widely. You liked to think it was her infectious smile that made your mouth turn up, and not the idea of Fred liking you.

“He has been talking about you all summer, I’m surprised Ron didn’t tell you earlier,” Ginny said, bringing the towel to her hair again to catch some dripping water.

“He probably hasn’t even noticed,” Hermione said, the tone of annoyance dripping off her tongue.

Ginny flashed her a sympathetic look, but Hermione ignored it, continuing.

“Do you like him?” she pried, and the whole room felt like it was frozen.

They both looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

You didn’t know. Fred was handsome, and funny, and clever, but you hardly knew him. You knew he was mischievous, and that he tormented Ron, but other than that you might as well have been strangers. You could not deny, however, that he was attractive.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly.

“You don’t know?” Ginny repeated, confused.

“Yeah, I mean, I barely know him,” you answered, the obvious energy in the room shifting to something of deep thought.

“Do you fancy him, though?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.

“I think he’s cute, yeah, but how can he fancy me? We’ve barely spoken to each other. Are you sure Ginny?” you asked again, still doubtful.

“I’m sure he’s noticed the little things more than you think he would, Fred can be pretty considerate when he wants to be,” Ginny said, and you breathed out loudly. You flopped on your back, the mound of blankets around you and Hermione soothing your landing.

“See? I wouldn’t know that!” you said.

You knew it was a little silly, to focus on something like this. You had an older, attractive, popular boy head over heels for you, but you were harping on the fact that you didn’t know whether or not he was considerate.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hermione said harshly, “I mean it’s not like you’re forced to marry him. You go on dates with people to get to know them, after all.”

You were nearly offended by Hermione’s tone, but you figured she was just getting irritated on the subject of crushes.

“I know, ‘Mione, I’m just confused by it,” you reassured her.

“Well, test the waters tomorrow,” Ginny said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

You cringed away from her, and swells of giggles were coming from Ginny’s room nearly all night.

The three of you slept late into the morning. The Burrow’s eventful noises were nothing compared to the sounds of muggle London, so you slept peacefully. It wasn’t until something began tapping on Ginny’s window, did the three of you wake up.

“What the-?” Ginny started but soon fell silent at the sound of a loud crashing noise. Shards of glass scattered around the room and Hermione was lucky that she had rolled away from the window in her sleep. You put your hand up, flinching at the noise, and when you dropped it, the warm summer air flooded into the room.

A small golden snitch was soaring around the room, averting every swipe of Ginny’s hands, and ducking behind her dresser.

Ginny slipped on some shoes, and carefully navigated through the glass. She leaned cautiously out of the window, and that's when the screaming started.

“Harry! Are you mental?! What on Earth-” her screams divulged into threats and insults, and you looked over her shoulder, watching Harry hover many feet away on his broom, his face looking quite guilty.

You found your shoes and moved over to the window. You then realized that Fred and George were hovering closer to Ginny’s window, silencing the snickers and amazed faces they wore. At the sight of Fred, your eyes widened, and his eyes met yours. He smiled kindly at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you ducked behind the window, crouching by Ginny’s feet.

You heard George’s laughter, and Ginny’s ramblings stilled.

“What are you doing on the floor?” she asked you, lowering herself to crouch with you.

“I don’t know,” you answered, whispering. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were wide. Ginny’s threatening look turned into a smile.

She began to giggle, and soon enough, Fred and George hovered just above the window, peering into Ginny’s room.

“What are you girls doing down there?” George asked, resting a hand on the part of the windowsill with no glass on it, peering into the room.

Ginny looked at you, her smile wide. You looked around and began to pick up large shards of glass.

“Cleaning up the glass,” you said casually, although you could still feel the distinct burn of blush on your cheeks.

You could only safely pick up two large shards of glass without cutting your hands, so you raised yourself from the ground, meeting Fred and George’s eyes. Ginny followed you, crossing her arms and smirking.

The boys wore their practice robes, their names and numbers on the backs. They both had discarded goggles hanging from their necks, and their hair was wild. You looked between the both of them, swallowing thickly.

“Could you keep it down?” Ginny finally said, trying to ease the situation, “We’re trying to sleep.”

George removed a hand from his broom and glanced at his watch, “It’s nearly 12 in the afternoon,” he said sarcastically.

“Really? Well, we need our beauty sleep,” Ginny said, and you noticed she nearly reached out to close the window.

George rolled his eyes and zipped away on his broom, leaving Fred.

“I’m gonna go get a broom, clean this up,” Ginny said, huffing as she navigated her way back through the glass on the floor.

You and Fred were left there, staring at anything but each other. Fred moved slightly up and down on his broom as he hovered. He finally cleared his throat and looked at you.

“Sleep well?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

You nodded and smiled, rocking back and forth on your feet, “You?”

He nodded too and looked away quickly.

“Oh, I think George, is calling me,” he said, and it was obvious George was not calling him. He flew away on his broom, and you closed your eyes, letting out a restrained breath.

You groaned and threw yourself on Ginny’s bed. Hermione rolled over, a large and entertained grin on her face. You covered your face with a pillow and ignored Ginny and Hermione’s imitations of the incident while they swept up the glass.

Mrs. Weasley was furious to see Ginny’s window. She had come in later in the day, a basket full of laundry on her hip.

“Hello girls,” she said pleasantly, “Do you have- what the bloody hell is that?”

Ginny’s eyes widened at the sound of her mother’s deep and serious tone.

“Mum! It wasn’t us,” Ginny leaped from her bed and ran to her dresser, she quickly caught the snitch from where it had been hiding behind her dresser, “It came through the window this morning when the boys were playing.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at you and Hermione, and you both nodded your heads furiously. She huffed out a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

Finally looking up, she set the laundry down and stood in Ginny’s doorway.

“BOYS!” she shouted, and you heard the sudden halting of George and Fred’s laughter, and Harry and Ron’s footsteps upstairs silenced.

The sound of four hesitant feet walking to Ginny’s room was the last thing you heard before Mrs. Weasley’s screams burst your eardrums.

The Burrow was crowded now that the boys had been banned from leaving the house. They had only briefly been allowed out of the house to de-gnome the garden, but Mrs. Weasley stood at the door, making sure they had absolutely no fun.

Your suitcase lay open in Ginny’s room, the three of you dressed and having absolutely no ideas as to what to do. You had all already ran through your spending money going to Diagon Alley on your first days there, and without the boys offering some entertainment, the three of you were idle.

Ginny paced, looking through her own things with interest. She twisted her broom in her hands, offering the idea of Quidditch, but Hermione wasn’t interested. Ginny was scanning her room, and her eyes fell on your bag. A pair of white shoes with wheels on them lay tucked away in the bag. She walked over to them and pulled them out hesitantly.

“What the bloody hell are those?” George said from the doorway.

The three of you girls turned, looking to the door. The four boys crowded in the hall, all peering into the room with interest. It seemed they were bored too.

“Are those the roll skates?” Ron asked, mispronouncing the word and shoving past George and taking the roller skate from Ginny.

“Yeah,” you said, your eyes flicking up over the top of your magazine.

The rest of the boys filed into the tiny room, nearly all of them shoulder to shoulder. Hermione rose from her spot next to you, picking up the other one from your bag.

“I remember seeing commercials for these things when I was a kid,” Hermione said, spinning the wheel in her hand.

“Commercials? What are you on about?” Ron said, and Harry caught your baffled look and smiled.

“What are they?” Fred asked, taking Hermione’s seat next to you on Ginny’s bed.

You lowered your magazine and looked at him, only to find him already looking at you. He gave you a crooked smile and nodded in greeting. You successfully fought a blush and smiled back at him.

“They’re roller skates. They’re like shoes with wheels,” you explained, taking the skate from Ron.

You rolled up your jeans a little and slipped on the skate. Fred watched your delicate fingers lacing up the shoe, noticing the way your hair fell into your face as you looked down at them.

Hermione handed you the other one, and you did the same to the other foot. You stood easily from the bed and nearly lost your balance. It was lucky that Fred’s strong shoulder was there for your hand to clasp onto, or else your feet would have slipped from under you.

You looked down at your hand still on Fred’s shoulder, even though you were standing fine. He slipped your hand off but kept it in his hand. You then became aware that you were just holding hands at this point. He stood with you and turned to face you. He pulled your other hand into his, and pushed you away from him, smiling widely as you rolled easily on the hardwood floors.

Everyone knew then that they had found their entertainment for the day.

The sound of joyful laughter flooded your ears as Fred pulled you around the limited space in Ginny’s room. Your hands fit together perfectly, and he walked backward as he pulled you, keeping his smiling eyes on you the whole time. Soon he was pulling you into the hallway, and everyone trailed after. You felt Ginny’s small hands pushing your back, and you began to gain speed. Fred hadn’t caught up, and you were coming closer and closer to him. You looked down but didn’t want to put your toes down to brake, in fear of scuffing up the floor. So, you let yourself fall into Fred’s arms.

The two of you stayed upright, but his long arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands fell to his chest, and his chin pressed against his neck as he looked down at you. His hair fell into his eyes, and yours fell gracefully in its natural place. You smiled, and he smiled, and soon you erupted into giggles at the silence behind you. George catcalled, and you stuffed your giggles into Fred’s chest, tucking your head under his chin. You felt him take a sharp inhale, and his arms became a little tighter around you.

When Mr. Weasley got home, he was accosted by his children.

“Dad!” They said in unison, all waiting for him by the door.

He jumped at the sight of them all, then began taking off his coat.

“Look at these!” Ginny said, pointing to your feet.

You did a little spin, careful not to make any marks on the floor. Fred watched you spin elegantly, your arms coming out a little like a ballerina.

“Remarkable!” Mr. Wealsey cried, moving to look at them.

Questions came from his mouth faster then you could answer them, and you slid the wheels against the floor under the table while you ate dinner.

“We had an idea, Dad,” Fred said, looking at you proudly.

“Yeah, think you’ll like it,” George added, glancing at you with a smirk and then looking back at his dad.

“We need you to conjure some sort of track outside,” Ron finished, talking with his mouth full.

“A track! That’s brilliant!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed, missing the worried look from his wife.

“It was Y/n’s idea, she’s brilliant,” Fred said, looking across the table at you.

You giggled as George made a gagging noise.

“With what? Stone?” Mrs. Weasley inquired, placing a hand on her hip.

“Oh no, they’re usually made of wood or asphalt,” you explained, “they have a whole building of them in the muggle world. People rent the skates and pay to skate on a big rink.”

Mr. Weasley's eyes widened with excitement, and Mrs. Weasley’s worry tamed.

“Let’s do it tonight.”

The eight of you walked to a clearing on the side of the house. It was where the boys usually played Quidditch, but it hadn’t been in use for days. Mrs. Weasley hadn’t stopped the boys from helping with the track, and you were grateful.

“Hold it higher, Ron!” Mr. Weasley called out, and Ron raised his father's wand with a bright orb of light coming from it.

The track was nearly done. It was huge, a large hoop secured to the ground. There was an enchanted orb of light in the center of the circle, and it illuminated the entire rink.

Your friends watched you blaze around the track, your hair whipping around behind your face, the sides of your cardigan flapping in the wind. You heard loud cheers when you successfully began skating backward.

The rest of your trip to The Burrow was spent out there. The boys were lifted from their punishments, and the rink became the one place you all went to when you woke up, and the last place you were before bed. Soon enough, though, your father appeared in the fireplace with your school trunk by his side. He quickly took back the bag you had been keeping at the Weasley's, and you went through your trunk one last time, making sure you had everything.

This year, walking through the train station, you were still stared at. But you didn’t care because an entire family surrounding you, and they all looked like you.

Your father gave you a lasting embrace before Fred followed you onto the train. He had waited for you, watching as you hugged your dad. He waved to your father, and his hand grazed your lower back as he walked behind you. The two of you found the compartment that had to be the most crowded of the lot.

Lee, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Sarah, George, and now you and Fred, packed into a compartment, the entire room filled with busy conversation the entire ride.

It was weird to be in the Hufflepuff common room, your bedroom devoid of Ginny’s huffs as she rolled over to get comfortable, or Hermione’s anxious mumbles she said in her sleep. You pulled your blankets off of you, your legs feeling sore from the constant skating you had been doing for weeks.

Speaking of, you had made the decision to bring your skates to Hogwarts. You slipped them on, tightening the rainbow laces. You pointed your wand at the wheels and cast a silencing charm, so the turn of the wheels would be silent.

You carefully climbed the stairs from the Hufflepuff basement and looked both ways before you skated towards your destination.

Fred had been sitting under his covers, looking over the map as he usually did before he snuck to the kitchens. Out of habit, he looked at the Hufflepuff common room for your familiar name. He was shocked to see you across the castle, in a long-abandoned classroom. He suddenly lost his appetite and slid into some slippers.

He rested his forearm in the crook of the door, leaning against it. He watched you illuminated by the candles lit on the wall. You easily glided between the desks, twisting and turning, spinning, and navigating between them. His eyes followed you, your body moving naturally. He watched the sway of your hips as your wait transferred from foot to foot, the skates rolling against the smooth stone. You moved to the open space in the room, skating backward, your back to him. You turned just a few feet in front of him, and when you saw Fred, your surprise ran through your body. Your feet faltered and you bumped into a desk, making a loud crash.

He jumped from his spot in the doorway, closing the door behind him. He moved to you in two long strides, crouching to reach you on the floor.

“Are you alright?”

“You scared the shit out of me, Fred!” you said, smiling up at him.

“Couldn’t help it, I had to come see you,” he said smoothly, bringing the map from his back pocket.

“What? How did you know I was here?”

He unfolded a piece of paper and held it out to you. You took it in your hands and realized what it was. Before you could look at it for long, Fred took it back, a worried expression on his face.

“Filch is coming, he must have heard the noise,” Fred folded the map and put it back in his pocket.

Suddenly, his hands were on your waist, and he was guiding you to your feet. He looked around the room and saw the door to the supply closet.

With a wave of his wand, the flames of the candles were extinguished and he was pulling your gliding figure to the closet. The door closed just in time, and Filch burst in. You and Fred were pressed together, his hands still on your waist. You opened your mouth to ask him about the map, and one of his hands covered your mouth. He felt your soft lips, and his eyes locked onto yours. You heard Filch’s heavy feet stomping around the room and the screech of the desk against the floor.

Your mind was occupied by the lack of space between you, your back pressed to the door, and Fred’s warm hand on your face. He looked deeply at you, and his face was inches from yours.

You thought back to the day Ginny told you about how Fred felt, and you realized that you no longer had any hesitations about Fred. Standing this close to him, his leg slid between yours, his chest against yours, you felt what he felt. You fancied Fred.

Fred felt your lips curl into a smile beneath his hand. It was dark, so he couldn’t see your face, but he wished more than anything that he could. He heard the door close, and Filch was gone, but neither of you moved. Fred’s hand retracted from your mouth, moving to your neck. His fingers slipped under your hair, and his thumb rested in your jaw.

“Why did you come here?” you whispered.

“I like to watch you skate,” he answered, his voice devoid of any laughter.

“You’ve watched me skate for weeks,” you said quickly, inching your face closer to his, craning your neck to look up at him.

“I like to watch you,” he said without thinking, “I like you.”

You closed the space between you two. His lips were slow, and so were yours. You arched your back against the door, anything to get closer to him. His face was warm, and yours was cold. His lips pressed hard against yours, and the kiss held everything he had felt since he talked to you in the Three Broomsticks. It was all the nights he had ranted to George about you, all the times he had mentioned what little time it was until you’d finally be at The Burrow, all the times he looked at the map just to see your name, all the times his stomach had flipped just at the thought of you.

You pulled away, breathless, and he lowered his head to rest on your shoulder. His breathing was heavy, and your eyes had fluttered closed. He reached for his wand and said “Lumos,” just so he could see your pretty face and swollen lips.

He walked you back to the basement, and you shared another slow kiss. He had almost followed you down the stairs, watching you leave with your skates hanging from around your neck.

The next morning in the courtyard, Ginny was the first to notice.

“What happened?” she said, skeptical of your dazed face and the constant flush you had from just being near Fred.

He sat a few feet away in his own world, avoiding George and Lee’s conversation about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip.

You smiled at Ginny, and she furrowed her brows at you. You were about to tell her, but Ron fell with a thud onto the ground next to you.

“It’s been three bloody weeks and Snape’s already assigned 100 pages of reading,” Ron groaned, pulling a heavy textbook from under his arm. Hermione and Harry trailed behind him, sitting with much more grace than Ron had.

Hermione also noticed your at peace look and looked at you analytically.

You were finally able to tell them in the hall, during an extended period between classes.

“He kissed me last night,” you said with a blush.

“I told you!”

“Finally!”

You hushed them, a bashful smile coming to your lips. Fred passed the three of you, his eyes locked on yours as he walked. Over his shoulder, he sent you a flirty wink. You felt weak at the knees and was glad that you were leaning against a wall.

“Maybe he’ll ask you to Hogsmeade,” Hermione said, tugging you off the wall and in the opposite way Fred was walking. You looked over your shoulder to see him walking backward, watching you walk away.

“Knowing Fred, he’ll probably pull some elaborate prank or get fireworks to spell your name out,” Ginny said, watching you look at her brother.

Fred did something like that, the two of you in the courtyard, laying in the grass. He had pulled you from dinner just after you were dismissed, and he led you to the courtyard. You both stared at the sky, and he looked at you. You met his gaze and then he pointed at the sky.

In huge, shining, red words read “Y/n, Hogsmeade this weekend?”.

You smiled at him and nodded. His hand snaked to cup your cheek still laying down. He pulled you towards him, and you moved to look down at him, propped up on your elbow. His lips met yours, and the sound of more bursting fireworks flooded the air around you.

It was nearly Christmas now. You and Fred have been dating for a few weeks, and he invited you back to the Burrow for the holidays.

You accepted, and you trudged your heavy bag into the fireplace. It was filled with gifts for the Weasley’s, and you were feeling quite confident about it.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione stayed at school for the holidays, leaving you, George, Fred, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in front of a fire on Christmas eve.

You had called your father on your flip phone he had given you as an early Christmas present. He was coming over tomorrow for Christmas morning, and you felt incredibly content.

Coming back to the couch, tucking your phone into your pocket, you slipped back under Fred’s arm, curling into his side. Mr. Wealsey had already had a go at the device, and he just watched amazed at it fitting into your pocket so easily.

The next morning you were woken up by the sound of your father’s booming voice downstairs. You sat up, stretching, and looked over to Ginny’s bed. It was empty, the covers were thrown aside. You slipped on a large cardigan, pulling it around your cold arms and going downstairs.

You were met with what felt like a dream. All the Weasley’s sat around the table, eating a huge Christmas breakfast and drinking tea. They each wore matching sweaters with their initials on them, and your father was standing with Mr. Weasley by the couch.

“Happy Christmas!” they all beamed at you.

Ginny tugged you over to the couch, sitting on one side of you while Fred sat on the other. Your father stood behind you on the couch, and a pile of presents were stacked in the room. You had brought your presents for the Weasley’s down last night, and you saw them on the ground.

Wrapping paper was everywhere, and the sound of happiness flooded the room. It finally came time for everyone to open what you had gotten them, and Fred went first. He tore away the red paper and held the plain box in his hands. He shook it, holding it up to his ear and smiling at you.

“Careful!” you told him, and he tore away the tape holding the box shut.

Inside, a brand new pair of garnet roller skates. He gasped, his large hands holding a skate up.

“Oh, my-” Mrs. Weasley said, already thinking of the awful thing he and George could do with those.

“It’s amazing!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you.

You returned the hug, and whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Fred.”

Soon, all the Weasley’s were holding different colored skates, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

#fred weasley #fred #weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley request #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts #hufflepuff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you

[kerie-prince]

change of pace

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

requested: (@pinkdevile) hey bae, can i request a one shot or headcanon about fred being whipped by one of ron classmates that is a non-pureblood slytherin and kind of prodigy in magic and how would he react to her being a typical dry slytherin and being a prodigy and good at everything?

summary: What happens when a red lion who lives in the moment falls for a green snake with plans for her future? Romance, of course.

a/n: stereotypical, yes but i had fun writing this :) also, i know my posting schedule keeps changing, so sorry about that 🥺 i got lots of requests (thank you guys SO much!) and i'm trying to not make them all sound the same. i'm looking up synonyms and all that stuff lol

(gif cred)

You were the least Slytherin person in your house. But maybe that's made you even more of a Slytherin. Your traits were that of a typical member of the house of snakes. No, you weren't a rude bitch; you had ambition that rivaled that of a Gryffindor and it wasn't even one of their traits. You aimed for the stars and your pride proved that you could do that and more. You are the best witch of your class, and maybe even your school.

And it was this reputation that caught the attention of someone who is quite the polar opposite. You were calm and collected. He was a wild card and unpredictable. Fred Weasley had his eyes on you and was going crazy for you. It all started when one day, he was with his friends and brothers in the Great Hall during lunch when you had walked up to Ron and Harry, “Hey Ron, were my notes able to help you?”

“Yeah, loads. Thank you, Y/N.” Lee was in the middle of a conversation with his best friends when he noticed Fred wasn't responding to anything he was saying. “Mate, you okay?” When you walked to your table, Fred scooted closer to his younger brother, “Dearest brother, how are you?”

“What do you want?” Ron saw right through him. He knew when Fred wanted something from him, just like now.

“Well I’m offended that you would assume something,” Fred held a hand over his chest with a fake offended look on his face, “can’t a person ask about the well being of his baby brother?” Ron had a deadpan expression and Harry was laughing at Fred’s exaggeration. “Fair enough. Who was that?”

“Who? Y/N? She’s in mine and Harry’s class, why?” Ron had taken a large bite from his turkey leg.

“What’s she like?” Fred inquired. Ron thought about it for a minute, “Dunno, she’s pretty quiet.”

“If I didn't know any better, I’d say that Freddie here fancies someone,” George teased. The surrounding friends laugh and point towards Fred. “I don’t fancy anyone. I’m just asking a simple question.”

Hermione and Ginny later joined the group. “What’s all this fuss about?” Hermione questioned.

“Fred’s asking about Y/L/N,” Harry caught Hermione up to speed. “Why? You’re not thinking of doing anything to her, are you?” Hermione started to scold the older boy.

“Why is it that you lot always think I’m up to no good,” Fred sighed.

“Because you’ve never been up to any good,” Ginny teased her older brother. Fred rolled his eyes and turned back to try and find you at your table. You had a couple of friends with you and a small book in your hand as you ate. Fred was determined to get your attention somehow.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

You sat in the library by yourself. You had spent the majority of the afternoon grading first years’ papers for Snape’s class and working with Hermione and Katie on a project for Ancient Runes. Giving up your weekends to study wasn't all that bad. The feeling of being on top was rewarding.

It was funny; your parents had stopped caring about your grades all together because they already knew what they were going to read. Not that they weren't supportive or proud of you. At family gatherings on your father’s side, he loved seeing the looks on his relatives’ faces when he boasted that you were the best student at Hogwarts.

But they have told you on many occasions that it wouldn't kill you to have at least one E. They wanted you to be able to have a normal teen life and have fun. Go to parties, get in trouble every now and then. You assured them that you were fine and all and even believed it yourself. You never had interest in breaking the pattern you had set.

The library was nearing its closing time and you packed your things. When you walked out the grand doors, a tall figure came in front of you and nearly knocked down all the books you carried. His hands caught whatever you couldn't hold before it hit the floor.

“Sorry about that,” you looked up at the towering boy. Your breath slightly hitched at the sight of his attractive face. His cheekbones were defined and his skin looked soft. You didn’t realize that you were staring, nor that he was also staring at you as well. Finally, he spoke up and handed you the book he was holding for you. “I believe this is for you.”

His mouth moved, but you were so distracted that it didn't occur to you he had actually said anything until you saw him looking at you expectedly. “Oh, thank you.” You started heading towards the dungeons when he jogged towards and stopped in front of you. “Aren’t you in the same class as Ron?”

“Yes, how did you know that?”

“I saw you talk to him the other day,” he told you. “I’m Fred.” He reached to shake your hands but then pulled it back when he remembered that your hands were full at the moment.

Ah, so this is Fred you thought. You've heard of him, who hasn't? Years of being at Hogwarts, tales of him and his equally devilish brother creating havoc around campus have traveled from one student to another. How you two had never seen one another until this point was surprising. It’s not like Hogwarts was a large school, but it wasn't small either.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You nodded your head towards him to replace a handshake. Ten seconds of silence caused you to walk past him and return to the path to the dungeons. “W-wait!” Fred called out.

He stood in front of you once again, one of his hands positioned in front of you to block you from walking past him again. “Would you like to get a butterbeer tomorrow?”

If there was anything you didn't like, it was being put on the spot. And another thing? Your routine being disturbed. Your Sunday was all planned out. Helping Sprout with her greenhouse to earn extra house points, tutoring some younger years, and getting a head start on your homework that wasn't even due for another week.

“I’m sorry, but no.” You gave him an apologetic smile as you walked away. Once again, he ran in front of you but this time merged with you and actually caused all of your books to fall.

“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” he bent down to help you pick them up. Fred usually isn't this clumsy or nervous. He usually charms his way through anything, but he was becoming like putty out of nowhere. “Okay, well what about Honeydukes next Saturday?”

“Sorry, but no again.” You started walking away for the nth time and turned around to look at him for the last time, “Please don’t follow me again.” And you were gone. But did this mean that Fred gave up on any chance he had? No. Far from it. If anything, it gave him reason to want to try harder.

He walked all the way to the Gryffindor house and luckily found Hermione studying in the common room with Pavarti and Lavender. There was a spot open next to her and when Ginny was about to take the spot, Fred grabbed her arm and pulled her away to steal the seat.

“Um, excuse you, I was going to sit–”

“Tell me everything you can about Y/N,” Fred interrupted his sister.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

He had tried to learn as much as he could about you. Fred learned that you had the top grades. Much like Harry did, you had learned the Patronus Charm before not only before your own class, but even Fred’s charms class. Your dad's a wizard, and your mum's a muggle. But most importantly, you were a picture perfect student, and although you didn't have any apparent hobbies, you picked up just about everything with ease.

A couple of weeks had passed and every other day, Fred had made any type of excuse to come see you.

‘Oh, my next class is in this direction’ It wasn't.

‘I like that book, too!’ You were, in fact, not holding a book but your personal journal.

‘Funny running into you here!’ It was in the Great Hall during breakfast.

Now, you didn't hate these interactions. They didn't do anything to your routine, and they were actually cute attempts to get your attention. But you didn't think you had any time for anything else. Or anyone else.

“You should give him a chance, Y/N/N. Live a little. I think the top student can take a bit of time for herself at least once,” your friend Millicent advised. Astoria agreed with her, “He’s cute~.” You slightly blushed in your book and pushed their arms away.

“I’ve never been on a date before,” you whispered. The two girls looked at each other confused before turning back to look at you. “Huh?”

“I’ve never been on a date before!” You flinched when you realized your voice was louder than intended. Your friends laughed when you looked towards the Gryffindor table to make sure Fred didn't hear you. He was talking to his friends, so that meant he didn't. Only he did, but felt your eyes on him so he pretended he didn't.

“So this is the perfect reason to go out with him! Go ask him out,” Millie pushed. She was persistently tapping on your arm until you eventually stood up. You took a deep breath to gather confidence and walked towards the table of red and gold.

When Fred's eyes met yours, you turned around and walked out of the Hall. He stood up from his seat and chased after you. He kept bumping into people, including Filch in the hallways. Filch yelled for him to stop, but of course Fred ignored him and kept going.

Momentarily, he lost you in the crowd of mixed color robes until he saw you sitting by yourself on a bench under a tree. He walked towards your direction and asked you with his eyes if he could take the seat next to you. You scooted down more to let the tall boy sit down.

Neither of you said anything for a few moments. You fiddled with your fingers on your lap and he stared up at the sky. “Nice day, innit?” Fred started the conversation. “Yes, it is.”

“Good weather to go walking around Hogsmeade” Fred tried one last attempt in asking you out.

“It would be,” you accepted.

He let out a sigh in defeat, “I know I ask a lot, but maybe just this once– wait, what did you say?” You looked up at him and smiled for the first time. His heart skipped a beat and the butterflies fluttered about inside.

“I’ll go with you.” He was so excited that he jumped up and did an air punch of victory. You laughed to yourself and when he looked at you, you had an eyebrow raised. He blushed in embarrassment and scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Promptly at 2 in the afternoon in front of the Slytherin dorms. Don’t be late,” you stood up with confidence. You walked back to the Hall to tell your friends, cheeks warmed and ears blushing. “So?” Astoria asked.

“It’s just a date, that's it,” you sounded nonchalant about it, but the smile on your face said differently. You were excited for your day with Fred and for all, unpredictable adventures to come.

A much needed change of pace.

—

requests open!

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #requested #requests open #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter imagine #fred x you #fred x reader #fred x slytherin!reader #fred x y/n

[fa-headhoncho]

Unlike The Rest: Quidditch World Cup

George Weasley x Reader (eventually)

Prompt: The Malfoy Family goes to the Quidditch World Cup and, well, you know what happens.

Word Count: 1542

Reader: Female

Warning: I change the format of the series, so click the series masterlist to understand what’s going on now lol

Masterlist Series Masterlist

=====

You hated this. Every single bit of it. You hated the snobby crowd, you hated the constant droning coming from Draco, you hated how you were in the Minister's box; you hated the fact you had to “mingle with your status”; you hated the constant whispers shared amongst your father and your brother; you hated everything. Especially the fact that you had to deal with Draco and your father without your peacemaker of a mother. But, this was the only way you could go see the Quidditch World Cup. 

Initially, you had begged your parents to let you go with the Diggory’s but they were very adamant that you don’t. You assumed it was because they were traveling with the Weasley’s since they lived in the same village. That didn’t stop you from arguing, though. It was frustrating, being close friends with the Twins have made you sensitive when your family starts openly bashing their family. You have always tried to bite your tongue because if they knew, you would never be allowed to spend any more holidays with Cedric.

At the end of the day, though, you were a bit glad you are able to see one of the most legendary Quidditch World Cups. It will be one for the history books. You’ll be able to tell your kids that you were there. You’ll be able to tell your kids how much your calves were hurting from the heeled boots and how itchy the sweater dress their grandmother made you wear was too. 

“Blimey, Dad.” A whiney voice echoes throughout the throng of staircases. “How far up are we?” You follow the sound to find the Weasley clan plus Harry and Hermione. Ron, of course, being the one who was bitching. 

“We’ll put it this way,” Father speaks up, him and Draco stopping at the railing to look up at them all. You decided to stay back, looking for a specific redhead. “If it rains, you’ll be the first to know.”

Father continues to walk, Draco following close behind. “We are located in the Minister’s box!” He starts to gloat, “by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge, himself.”

“Shut it, Draco.” You reach out and push his back causing him to stumble slightly. He whips his head around and sends you a nasty glare. You mockingly pout your lip at him.

“Father—“

“Well, don’t boast, Draco.” He agrees, your jaw drops a bit but then he continues, “There's no need with these people.”

You shift your gaze to the floor, embarrassed at how your father is acting and trying not to snap at him either. What grabs your attention is him reaching his cane up and putting it into Harry’s foot, stopping the group from going on their way. That’s what sets you over the edge.

“Do enjoy yourself, won’t you?” He says, a sick smile on his face. “While you can.” 

“Don’t want to leave the Minister waiting, do we?” You say, pushing Draco again. This time, he just smirks and resumes walking with a cocky saunter in his step.

Waiting till their out of earshot, you turn around to see the Weasleys have continued their way up the stairs. An apologetic smile appears on your face when the twins come into view. They stop and return the smile, knowing none of it came from you. What catches you off guard, though, is their brightly colored faces.

“You look ridiculous,” You snort out, Fred’s jaw drops at the accusation. 

“At least we’re dressed for the occasion.”

You shake their head at them, “You two are mental.”

Fred lets out an offended scoff, a hand going up to his chest. “Come on, Georgie. We don’t need this—“ His face overdramatically scrunches up. “—bullying.” He swings his body around and stomps up their stairs. 

You stand there and giggle at Fred’s antics. George just shakes his head at his other half. He then turns back to you, squatting down and reaching something out to you.

“Take it.” He opens his hand to reveal a piece of parchment, most likely ripped out of a book of Hermione’s. You furrow your eyebrows at him but you take the note. He shoots a wink before standing to his full height and following his family up to their seats.

Unable to hold back the smile on your face, you open the small piece of parchment.

If you’re able to sneak off, come visit us after the game, Fred and I have something to show you. You can also drop off our winnings… Cedric says hi too.

It’s a simple, innocent message but you can’t help the blush that appears on your face. Over the years at Hogwarts, your unlikely friendship with the twins has been one of the best things that have ever happened. Their unbelievable personalities and ability to make anyone feel comfortable no matter their background has always been something you admired.

George and you have a special bond in particular. Him being the twin you initially became friends with back in third year. Throughout time, you’ve started to feel some type of way for the younger redhead. He’s constantly making you feel included, from just saying hi to you in the halls to keeping you company in the library. He’s always finding time to see you.

Maybe it’s just because he’s the kinder twin but Cedric is convinced otherwise.

“Oi, you twit.” Draco’s annoying whine of a voice interrupts your daydreaming. “What’re you standing around for? We must—“

You roll your eyes and slip the paper into your blazer pocket, “Don’t get your wand in a knot, Draco, I’m coming.”

=====

In the cluster of people leaving the game, you’ve somehow managed to slip away from your family. The crowd’s rowdiness being the ultimate distraction and you use it to your advantage. In all honesty, though, it didn’t seem like your father and brother were paying attention to you. They’ve been whispering all day and you overheard Draco asking what they were going to do with you.

It sparked your curiosity but you knew better than to bud into their business. They were probably just talking about Hogwarts or something. You didn’t dwell on it, it’s been a normal occurrence during this summer that they’ve been acting this weird.

Fireworks and cheers surround you as you make your way to the Weasley's plot. George left some direction but not much, having faith that you could easily find your way. How wrong he was, the fireworks have turned to explosions and the cheers turn into screams by the time you arrive at their tent.

You turn to see the grounds, everything going up in flames. People are scattering and running towards the outskirts to the woods surrounding to escape. 

“Get out, it’s the Death Eaters!” Someone shouts, your heart drops. You knew the history your family has, especially your father. This has to be what they were whispering about. You’re paralyzed in fear, watching the chaos play out in front of you. 

Hermione appears at your side in a few seconds, the noise obviously drawing them out. Mr. Weasley works for the ministry and fought through the first wizarding war so he’s aware of what’s going on now.

“What’s going on?” Hermione dazedly asks, staring out onto the campgrounds beside you.

“Death Eaters,” You whisper, her head snaps to yours.

“Get back to the portkey everybody and stick together!” Mr. Weasley demands, urgency in his voice. You and Hermione turn to face the group just as he pulls out his wand. “Fred, George! Ginny is your responsibility… Part!” He yells as the rest wait for direction.

Everyone scrambles while you’re just planted there. You knew what is about to come, all the conversations you’ve eavesdropped on at home now make sense. The Dark Lord is coming back and now everything is going to change.

“Hey,” A hand is set on your shoulder but you don’t need to look who it is. “We have to go.” George moves his hand to grab yours, pulling you away from the fires but you don’t move.

“George,” You manage to say, you feel like life has just been sucked out of you. He immediately understands but he can’t just leave you here to possibly die.

I know, (Y/N).” He squeezes your hand, “but we have to go.” You allow him to pull you away.

=====

Your body goes into autopilot as George leads you to safety. Narrowly dodging others as they run in chaos to their own portkeys. The two of you manage to somehow find Fred and Ginny in your journey. You don’t know where you are by the time you get to the Weasley’s portkey.

“(Y/N),” Cedric gasps, seeing you with the twins. He runs over to you and envelopes you into a big hug, glad to see his best friend safe. You melt into it, not realizing how much you needed this. Tears start to form in your eyes as he pulls back. “Are you okay, where is your family? I thought…”

You shake your head at him, not having the voice to say it. Instead, you just put your head on his shoulder. Sobs start coming before you have the chance to stop them.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #malfoy!reader #draco malfoy x sister!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x malfoy!reader #weasley twins #weasley #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #hogwarts #unlike the rest

[accioxreparo]

baby fever | g.w.

part one // baby fever

synopsis: It came out of nowhere for both you and George. Maybe, just maybe, it might be something to consider

pairing: George Weasley x reader

warnings: none

a/n: Hi so this popped into my head and I had to get it out there cause it’s cute and sure maybe its a little self indulgent cause my cousin just had a baby and she’s adorable and here I am lol. This part is a little shorter but the next one is...well let’s just say it’s definitely longer. Also there may or may not be nine planned parts to this hc/fic hybrid series so...

tagging note: I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and just to be safe I was thinking of making a separate tag list for this so hmu if you want to be added!

~~~~~~

It wasn’t fair really. You never stood a chance. 

Teddy, your godson, had just turned a year old and it seemed like he was growing more and more every day. He had such a bubbly personality and despite the fact that he reminded you so much of his parents, ones who had felt so much like your own, he never failed to bring a smile to your face 

Two afternoons a week you’d go straight from work to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes where George was more often than not carrying Teddy, who would always be wearing a tiny little suit that perfectly complimented his, in a baby carrier strapped across his chest. Whenever you mentioned the fact that Teddy was close to walking by himself now he only smiled and gave you a shrug, “He walks too slow.”

You knew, though. Knew that he enjoyed the days you two had Teddy more than anything. The fact that he was growing right before your eyes made him want to hold on as much as possible.  

That day was different. It felt different from the moment you woke up early in the morning to find George with Teddy (who Harry had just dropped off) hoisted up on his shoulders, talking to him as if he could understand him while making breakfast. 

“Alright Ted, here’s our to do list. We have a new shipment coming in today with the materials we need for the skiving snackboxes. Just in time too, everyone’s gonna start shopping for school soon. We need to get on it if we want to have these done by July. - What was that? - No you cannot try these candies. Not yet anyway.” 

The sight has you beaming at them and stirs something inside you that you can’t quite pinpoint. You don’t even say anything until Teddy sees you and babbles while reaching for you. Then George is the one who smiles as you take Teddy from him, his hair turning bubblegum pink as you toss him in the air once before hugging him tightly

You think about that scene in the kitchen all day long. Every now and then you find yourself grinning and it’s only intensified when you’re sent to help out in the Infant and Children Wing of St. Mungo’s. The kids make you smile and you can’t help the lingering thought that you can’t wait to have one of your own. 

It surprises you. You’d thought about it, even talked about it with George before you got married but until then it’d sort of been put on the back burner. Still, the thought stays very much present in your head all day long. 

Then you’re sent to the Ministry to drop off some paperwork and that’s when you run into Bill. He looks quite flustered as he holds little three month old Victoire in his arms with a backpack thrown over his shoulder. When he sees you he shouts your name across the Atrium, catching the attention of several people. “I went to find you at work and they said you’d be here. You wouldn’t be able to do me a huge favor would you?”

For a moment you pay no attention to his words, simply cooing at Victoire who’s wide awake and giving you a toothless smile. “That depends, what is it?” You finally answer, happily taking Victoire from and smiling when she giggles as you gently rock her back and forth. 

“That actually,” Bill says as he drops the bag to the floor and sighs heavily. “There’s this ministry gala today that I totally forgot about that Fleur and I have to go to. I’d take Vic to mums but her and dad also have to go and you know how picky she is about everyone else. Adores you and George, though. You wouldn’t mind taking her would you?” 

Your answer is immediate “Not at all. Me and George have Teddy today too. I’m sure they’ll love seeing each other again.”

Bill looks relieved and he hands you the bag, “Perfect! We’ll be at yours later tonight then.” He says a quick goodbye to Victoire and hugs you before starting to walk away, shouting another quick thanks behind him as he disappears down the Atrium once more. 

When you step out of the floo and into your apartment you almost immediately feel a small pair of arms wrapping around your legs

“Why hello there, love,” You smile and kneel down on the floor, pressing a kiss to Teddy’s forehead. He peers into the bundle of blankets holding Victoire and his hair turns a variety of colors before settling on pink once again. “Look who came to visit.”

You don’t fail to notice how easily everything comes to you. It’s completely naturally that you and George move around your house together over the next few hours, chasing after Teddy, entertaining Victoire, making dinner together as the kids sit nearby. 

You quickly fall in love with both the sight and the feeling

You’re not too sure what time it is when Teddy finally falls asleep on the couch and you carry him to the room. Once he’s settled you head back to the living room to find George rocking Victoire to sleep while Bill digs through your kitchen and Fleur makes herself comfortable on one of the couches. 

When she sees you she motions you over and you take a set next to her. Her head falls onto your shoulder and you laugh a little. “Long day, huh?” “The longest.” She lazily motions over to where Vic is almost fast asleep and she shakes her head. “She never falls asleep that easily. George is a natural,” Fleur then turns to look at you and gives a sly smirk. “I hear you both are.”

You smile and look down at your lap, suddenly finding your wedding ring very fascinating. “I guess so.” You honestly have no idea how she does it but Fleur knows exactly what you’re thinking. “You’re debating it, aren’t you?” She sits up and turns to face you, leaning close in an attempt to keep your conversation private from your respective husbands. “Having a baby.”

You shrug and try to wave her off. “Probably just baby fever or something.” 

“It’s okay, you know,” Fleur sets her hand on your arm and you see the genuine, caring smile on her face. It comforts you, makes you really believe that maybe you are ready for a baby. “If being a mom is what you want then I know you of all people would be an amazing one.”

“You think so?” You find yourself asking as your eyes wander back to George who smiles at you when he finds you looking. Fleur nods as soon as the words leave your mouth. “I know so.” 

It’s then that you decide that maybe it is time to have a very important conversation with George. You only hope it goes as well as you find yourself wanting it to. 

>>> part two: the Talk

#hp fanfic #harry potter imagine #harry potter headcanon #george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #my fics

[hannah-and-the-jets]

I have been reflecting on the fact that cursed child was terrible, so, with that, I have taken it upon myself to rewrite it lol. Here’s a little snippet of the beginning and I hope to start posting on AO3 soon!

Before the Daily Prophet was delivered that morning, Harry knew that it was going to be a bad day. Sometimes he thought Ron was not joking when he called Harry a Seer, as there were times that he just knew it was going to be a terrible day. 

If his tea was delivered by his assistant, Ms. Biggs, and it was cold, Harry knew that he would be swamped with paperwork. If there was too much milk, Auror Richards would be stopping him at least twice that day. Not enough sugar meant he would be in the tabloids again. And if his partner stopped and picked up breakfast, well, then he would be expecting a new one soon. 

 However, Harry felt it deep in his gut that morning when he woke up, Ginny draped over his chest still and loose limbed. His heart was racing from a lingering nightmare; his skin felt too tight over his muscles and the back of his neck was drenched in sweat. The nightmare was not a new one. Harry would find himself back at Hogwarts, wandering the sewer pipes under the school. The sound of scales sliding against the stone walls, the whispers from the basilisk calling out to him, and his own childish screams rang through his ears. The creature never caught up to him, but Harry would wander the familiar pipes searching for Ginny. In all of the years that the same nightmare plagued him, he never found her. 

But waking up to her leg thrown over his hips, her hair tickling his face, and her breath against his neck was usually enough to ground him back to reality. That morning it wasn’t enough. The fear and panic clawed at his chest and lungs, begging to be released. Harry did not move a muscle out of fear of waking Ginny. The small puffs of air escaping from her mouth indicated that she did not wake when Harry jolted to a start, and Harry was thankful as he turned his head to look at the clock on his nightstand. 

Harry had to squint to make out the numbers 4:53am glaring at him in bright red from the small alarm clock. He sighed and wondered if he could even fall back asleep for the next thirty minutes before the alarm would sound. With a shaking breath, the fear still lingered deep in him. A piercing cry came from the baby monitor on the dresser across from the bed. Harry could feel the moment Ginny woke, as she tensed for just a second above him. 

“I’ll get him,” Harry whispered into her hair, “Go back to sleep.” 

“Thank you,” Ginny murmured, not quite awake but not quite asleep. Al’s wails bounced around the room as they untangled themselves from one another. Harry found his glasses on the nightstand, and his pajama pants on the floor where he had left them only hours beforehand. With a flick of his hand, the baby monitor went silent, and Harry slipped out of the bedroom. 

In the hallway, Harry could hear Al from the room on the right, but went left first to the third bedroom of the house. Harry carefully opened the door, and panic in his chest quieted for a second as he watched his first born, James, snoring lightly. His wild hair that matched Harry’s was thrown in every direction on the pillow, and his covers had been completely discarded to the floor at some point in the night. At three years old, James Sirius Potter was a little terror, and slept like one too. Harry grinned fondly at the sight as James let out a shockingly loud snort for a three year old; however, Al then let out a particularly loud cry. Harry closed the door, and made his way down to the almost toddler’s room. 

At one years old, Al slept most nights pretty comfortably, but lately he had been waking them up again. Harry made his way into the bedroom, where Albus sat in bed, wailing while holding his plush dragon. “Oh, buddy,” Harry grabbed him and held him close, “What’s going on?” 

Al just blubbered his response and dug his face into Harry’s shirt. His little fist had a death grip on his dragon, as Harry moved them to sit in the rocking chair in the corner of the room. The chair faced the window that led to the view of the street below them. They lived in a town near the Burrow. It was easy to be connected to the Weasley’s for if they needed help, or just wanted someone else nearby. 

Harry had sold Grimmauld Place back to Narcissa Malfoy two years after the war. He had cleared out Sirius’ stuff with Ginny one Saturday afternoon, and it was the last time he had set foot in the house. Then there was the apartment he shared with Ron for Auror training, then Ron had moved out to live with Hermione after he dropped out. Then came this home, and it was truly a home. Bright yellow exterior paint, a big backyard, rooms for the children, and a large kitchen as the heart of the home. They could not have raised the kids in Grimmauld, no matter how much Harry missed it. 

With the panic in his chest starting to subsided, Harry focused his attention on Al completely. He patted his bottom to see if he was wet, rested his hand on his head to see if he was too hot, but it came down simply because he just wanted to be comforted. Harry kissed his jet black curls and murmured to him slowly, “It’s okay, Buddy. Did you have a bad dream? I got you. It’s okay now.” 

They stayed in that position, slowly rocking, until the sun started to peak over the houses across the street. Albus had fallen back asleep at some point, but Harry couldn’t. He felt it. It was going to be a bad day, but he would enjoy this moment rocking his youngest child back to sleep. 

The morning preparations went by in a blur. Eventually, Ginny came to take Albus down to breakfast while Harry got ready to go to work. He got ready quickly and efficiently, the same way that he had since he had completed his training seven years beforehand. He paused only briefly to kiss the boys and Ginny goodbye before leaving. The tightness of his skin never went away. 

When he had arrived at the Ministry, it seemed to be a normal day. Witches and wizards buzzed all around him, finding their way to their offices and cubicles. Harry navigated his way with ease, and rode the elevator down to the Auror floor. Like every morning, he was greeted by various members before he reached his office. While not Head Auror, yet, he was a Senior Auror, and it meant a shared office with a partner and an assistant to support. However, his last partner, Auror Eickles, had brought two cups of coffee with him last week, and was still in Saint Mungos as of this morning.

Ms Briggs sat behind her desk, happily clicking away at the keys on her computer. She was an older woman who insisted on wearing a muggle skirt suit set everyday in bright colors. Her lipstick was always a bold pink, and every gray curl of hair was never out of place. Ms Briggs enjoyed her work, Harry thought. At least she was always happy to see him. 

“Good morning, Auror Potter,” She said without looking up, “I’ll bring a cuppa and the Prophet in just a second. All messages are on your desk, and Auror Richards has requested a meeting at 9am.” 

“I have that meeting with the Bulgarian Senior Aurors at 8. Tell Richards to reschedule.” 

“No can do,” Ms. Briggs looked up from her computer screen as Harry passed, “He gave your meeting to Auror Spencer. He said it’s urgent, and Kinglsey is also supposed to be there.” 

There was that feeling, that bad feeling. After the war had ended, Harry tried to live his life without assumptions; however, an urgently scheduled meeting with the Head Auror and Minister of Magic was never a way to start the day. Harry nodded to Ms. Biggs, and made his way to his empty office. 

Half of the room housed Harry’s things. Pictures of family and friends, random nicknacks, and lots of paperwork. The whole thing was in disarray, at least Hermione thought so when she would stop by, but Harry just thought it was organized chaos. The other half of the room just sat empty. Auror Eickles had unpacked his stuff when he was assigned to be Harry’s partner, but his wife had come by to collect the few items that he had in the room. Harry thought about maybe sending a letter today, seeing how she’s doing. 

Harry was catching himself up on memos and notes from the weekend, when Ms. Briggs entered the room. She set his tea and the Daily Prophet on the corner of his desk, with a disapproving click of her tongue. 

“It’s bad enough what those families did to us, but now they want to come crawling back begging for work.” She shook her head as she read the top headline. Harry thought she didn't even know she was speaking out loud, “I bet they dried out all their little trust funds and family vaults.” 

Harry snatched the paper as she left the room. They had a longstanding thing were Harry would insist that the Prophet was garbage, but Ms. Briggs still brought it anyway. 

Ministry Approves Purebloods With Deatheater Ties May Work In Government Again! How This Affects You. Harry gravitated towards the corresponding picture. There were three individuals, two men and one woman. The men were young, possibly fresh out of Hogwarts, but the woman is what made Harry stop completely. She was not as tall as the others, and was a slender build. Her features were dark, with strong eyebrows, intense eyes, and a perfectly cut nose. Her hair was pulled into a bun so tight that it made Harry’s head hurt. But there, on his morning newspaper, was Astoria Malfoy signing her Auror training papers. 

#harry potter #harry potter and the cursed child #cursed child #cursed child rewrite #astoria malfoy #the malfoys #draco malfoy #ginny weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #i am so excited #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #albus potter #scorpius hyperion #unbeta'd #unbeta

[idunnoficsorsumthing]

Best friends part 2

I am watching a suitable boy and I am soo hooked rn. Also everyone GO VOTE I am not even American, and I do think ya’ll should vote.

Part one of this was based on my relationship with my bestfriend. But, now I had to stray away from it lol.

Part one

George Weasley x Reader

You spent the summer working at your parent’s pub in London. George wanted you to work for them. But, you weren’t interested in those two being your boss. You did help out a lot, and you quickly became familiar with the quirks of the shop. You could spot a love sick girl looking for some love potion from a distance, and you knew what to get the parent’s looking for a birthday gift, that wasn’t going to bother the parents too much. “Fred you are running low on puking pastilles” you said, he went over to the bin where they usually were. “George is in the back making taffy. Go tell him to make more.” He said, you nod, walking over to the door in the back of the store. You knock on the door, and carefully open it. “I swear this isn’t FDA approved.” You said, he was stirring a cauldron over a gas pit. He chuckled. “Nobody is asking for licensing.” He said, you shake your head, taking the notebook of recipes. You pick up a clean cauldron, and start working on the puking pastilles. “Babe can you hand the wrappers?” George asked. He meant the taffy wrappers, you try to step on the stool. Of course they had to put the boxes out of your reach. “Careful, sugar” George said, when you went on the top of your shoe to reach up the cupboard. He put his hands on your hip to keep you from falling. “Want to get some dinner after this?” George asked. “Yeah we should get some egg rolls. Fred loves eggrolls” You said, stepping off the stool. George scratched the back of his neck with his hand. “I meant the two of us,darling” he said, you look at him for a second. Darling… he never called you that. He only ever called you names he swore were cringey. You nod. “Yeah sure” you said, you decide it was nothing, just your head playing mind tricks. 

To say you were having just the slightest bit of feelings for George was a lie. You had loads of feelings for George all friendly. But, this whole skit the two of you did about getting married was messing with your head. Because you kept imaging if this was something you really did want. If you were going to be honest with all the fear of Voldemort returning, and all the heartache the Weasley’s endured when Arthur was hospitalized a relationship was probably the last thing on George’s mind especially with the start up of the store. This was the first season open when all the school kids would be coming in. Of course you could still order them to be delivered to Hogwarts, at least after Umbridge was gone. Harry taught you a lot of protection spells, that you taught first years so there wouldn’t be a too big of a load of students to teach for him. Hermione, and Neville helped too. The two of you walked through the streets towards a restaurant. You liked wizard restaurants more than muggle ones, they had better service. Food would just appear on your plate, and it would also be cleaned up in a jiffy. But, the eggrolls of this muggle restaurant were just the best.  “Look,” George said, when the two of you walked past a muggle jewellry store. In the window were necklaces, rings and golden watches. “You should get a watch sometime. You always forget what time to meet me.” you smiled. He looked at the various pieces of jewelry. “This one is just you.” he said, pointing at the ring that had the precise cut, color, and shape of something you’d wear. “I love it.” you said, the ring just sat there in the window. “Come on we should get going.” you said, pulling him by his hand.

The two of you just ordered,egg rolls with some side dishes. “I should get you a ring. It is a shame to tell Alfie and Ophelia that you had to wait years because of the store.” he said, you laugh at him. “George. I love our banter. But, I need you to do a reality check.” you mumble. Before taking a sip from your drink. You wished he didn’t hear you, yet you needed to say it. “What reality?” he asked, he took the napkin, and put it over his lap. “I mean that us talking about getting married is messing with my head.” you said: “It makes me think there really will be red haired babies, George.” you put down your glass, and stare at George. He had a frown on his face. “Will there not be? I mean I know your hair color isn’t that dominant so likely they’ll have red hair.” he said, you give him the look when he is being an idiot. He knew what it meant. Shut up. “We aren’t dating, George.” you said, he shook his head with a laugh. “I knew I was forgetting something,” he joked. You glare at him. You weren’t interested in him being an idiot. You needed some answers, though you couldn’t help but laugh a little. The waitress came with your food, she puts down the plates, and you thank her. “If you want to break up with me. No hard feelings, except for my heart. It will be in a thousand pieces.” he said, he looked serious this time. Except for  the corners of his mouth which were curled in a laugh. You shake your head, and laugh, he was messing with you, and you were being silly. You change the topic quickly, and tell George you needed to take some egg rolls with you for Fred. 

The two of you were walking back to the apartment, George took your hand in his, you were holding the bag of take away in your other hand. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked. After the comfortable silence, you stop in your steps, too tired of this game.He looks at you waiting, for you to say something.  “I love you, stupid.” you said, stepping forward, pressing your lips against his as your hands are on the sides of his face, to pull him towards you. He didn’t waste much time responding to the kiss. 

Life doesn’t work the way you plan it. Because if it did, Fred would still be alive. He would be laughing at the fact what the two of you became, two puke covered parents to adorable babies, and to be fair George was struggling everyday with the death of his twin brother. There had been times where you thought he never would be the same again. No one in the entire world felt his pain. Fred didn’t get to see the wedding day, or the day that he became an uncle. “Y/n” George said, holding Ophelia in his arms. He had been struggling with dressing Ophelia. Because he never knew how to put on the dress. You take Ophelia from his arms, placing her on the bed, and buttoning the dress. “I have to go to work.” George said, placing a kiss on your cheek, and when you picked Ophelia up, he placed a kiss on her cheek. The sound of crying came from the other room, and of course Alfie woke up. “Oh Alfie Frederick Weasley what am I to do with you?” you said, picking up your baby boy. He was a fussy little boy, only if he was in his crib. He loved to be in someone’s arms, and he would be a content little baby when he was. The likelihood of the two of having twins was apparently big, no need to skip a generation because your mother has a twin sister, fraternal though, and polar opposites. You hold Alfie in your arms, and he stopped being fussy quickly. While you held Ophelia in your other arm. You didn’t get much done if the two of them were fussy. You were waiting by the door for George to  go to work. You were entertaining the babies with a lullaby. When you look up to see George standing in the kitchen’s doorpost just looking. “What?” you ask. He shrugged. “I was just wondering if you thought I was still joking.” he said, referring to the times he talked about the future and you didn’t believe him. “Oh bugger off, Weasley.” you laugh. 

You took the babies to the burrow that afternoon. It wasn’t planned but Molly loved the twins. You step out of the chimney, you always have the babies in a wrap around your chest. One on your back and one on the front to make sure you wouldn’t lose them during the trip. “Oh my dears.” Molly greeted. She was sitting on the couch knitting. You handed Alfie, who’s hair was a dark shade of ginger, wasn't much like his grandmother’s  and you held Ophelia to your chest while drinking the cup of tea Molly gave you. You visited Molly too often, you knew that. But, Fleur didn’t need help with Victoire, and Ginny and Harry didn’t rely on Molly for help with James. “If we visit too much you’ll say so?” you ask her. She nods. “Nonesens, I miss having children around.” she answered. You gave her a smile. You felt your daughter drool over your shoulder. “George coming tonight?” Molly asked, and you realised you forgot to put a note out for George. “I should give him a call.” you said, Molly laughed. You called the phone in the shop, Ophelia was asleep, you held her in your arms. “Weasley’s Wizards and Wheezes, how can I help you?” you heard your husband say. You chuckle a bit. “With me, we are at your parents house. Will you come here after work?” you ask him. Ophelia made a content little sound, small bubbles from the milk were on her lips. You try to wipe them away. He chuckles. “Yes, I’ll be there, darling.” he said, you heard Alfie cry, Molly must’ve put him down in the crib. “our son is crying.” you said: “I should go.” you hear him laugh. “Love you.” he said, hanging up the phone.

@enchantedcruelsummer

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n

[fedonciadale]

I think once Grindewald made himself known, wizarding society changed for the worst. He peeled back the darkness there and no one could ignore it (I also personally suspect he collaborated with the Nazis in some manipulative way to prove a point and thought no one would catch on but I digress lol).

On that note, I've honestly contemplated the idea that before Grindewald had his name known, blood bigotry and blood supremacy were just politics that were spoken of that the common witch or wizard could easily ignore, and had yet to permeate every day life enough that it colored everything anyone ever did. It would have made things like interhouse relationships much easier imo. And for the Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry to literally only be about Quidditch.

(2) On top of that, they've also married half bloods to avoid becoming inbred. It all makes me wonder if there was ever a chance they could have been steered away from blood supremacy. And while they have a definite history of bigotry, if, given the right person in the family, that they had a chance of steering away from any sort of blood bigotry all together and become what the 28 would call a "blood traitor."

Hi there!

It looks like tumblr has eaten one of your asks.

If I get the gist of it right, your question is about how Grindelwald possibly made the prejudices against muggles and muggleborn worse and that without that the pureblood families might have given up on their classist ideas with time. Please just ask again, if I'm wrong.

It's a good question. Can prejudices disappear on their own? Did Grindelwald worsen the prejudice when he came out into the open about his disdain for muggles and tried to grab power for wizarding kind (by first grabbing power for the people who were on his side and himself). Did this give people ideas? Did this cause conservative and traditional (for lack of a better word) wizards to stress the social gap between wizarding people and muggles? Something in the vein of: "You know, of course Grindelwald was too brutal and wanted to force things, but he was not entirely wrong."

I think this could well be what happened. It would even explain Voldemort's rise to power to a certain degree: He might have gained followers who had been sympathetic to Grindelwald.

The interesting thing is that Grindelwald, as far as I can see, really concentrated on his war against the statute of secrecy and his war on muggles while I don't think Voldemort bought all the propaganda himself. Voldemort wanted power and immortality for himself, but I think he used all the ideas to get people behind him as followers, not because he believed in them. Grindelwald on the other hand thought that wizarding people could work for the better of the world (the greater good). We don't know much about young Grindelwald yet. By the time we meet in in the "Fantastic Beasts" movies he certainly has shed any scruples. Considering when he started though, I think it is possible that he was - at one point - an idealist who wanted to improve the world. The muggles had just fundamentally fucked up in WWI and Grindelwald might have felt that the wizards could fix that all. All in all, I think Grindelwald is the far more interesting villain.

That Grindelwald was defeated in 1945 certainly suggests an alliance with the Nazis. JKR herself has said that it is not an accident. How exactly this did happen and how Grindelwald justified an alliance with muggles remains to be seen.

So, this leads me to the other part of your question? Could the pureblood ideas just have died out naturally if Grindelwald had not widened the berths between muggles and wizarding people.

I am honestly not sure. It is awfully difficult to get rid of prevalent ideas if they are not dismantled as prejudices (and even then it's difficult). It could happen though and we have historical examples. But the precondition would be that the difference is not important any longer.

Many people do not know this, but Roman Catholics were discriminated against in Germany prior to the founding of the first German Republic after WWI. In theory discrimination stopped then but in reality, there was a considerable pay gap, educational gap etc. all through the 20s and 30s and the on average lower social status of Catholics was visible in the statistics up to the 70s and 80s.

But nowadays the number of Catholics (and even more so of practicing Catholics) has dwindled to such a degree that the difference between Catholics and Protestants is really only important for religious zealots and only in the context of church matters. For everyday life it is completely unimportant. But that is because the society has changed in that regard. Which branch of Christianity someone belongs to (if at all!) is no longer a defining factor of identity in a secularized society (unless the Rights want to mobilize for 'Christian values' while completely missing the point of what these are). So, nowadays there is no discrimination of Catholics.

So, yes, some things can just change with time but for that society has to change considerably. The thing is I can't come up with a scenario where the muggles - wizarding people difference becomes completely unimportant. Therefore, I doubt that it would just dwindle. What I think would be possible, is that a conscious effort to introduce muggleborns earlier to the wizarding world and all that might change the perception of them as being inferior. But that needs a conscious effort.

In the very long run I would even say that Grindelwald and Voldemort might have helped the cause of Muggles and Muggleborns - The utter moral corruption of this set of beliefs has come to the fore and this means that at least some people would try to do better. The problem of what to do with muggle discrimination after Voldemort's death is never addressed in the books though - or rather it just goes on.

It is of course difficult to think about what would happen in a completely fictional society but it is a very interesting thought experiment! We would still have to eliminate some of the difficulties in world building JKR never addressed. lol.

Thanks for the ask!

#anon ask #HP #HP verse #classism in HP #Grindelwald #Voldemort

[katetheworm]

Naud Bui Amarth

Note: Since I really like this story and I kinda hinted at it before, I’m gonna post it here... if you see other sites (quotev, ao3, and wattpad) with this same story under the name “katethedork”, that is, in fact, still me. I had kept them separate because of personal reasons, but I frankly don’t care anymore lol. Reblogs, hearts, comments, and any questions on this are welcome! (picture is what Cefrey looks like)

Summary: Bound by Fate. Cefrey Stormwind. Cefrey the Green. She was known by many names, but none truly told of who she was. Cefrey was gifted, yes, in the ways of magic. Different than the wizards, and not as strong, her magic still helped her and her friends on many occasions. Her friends... a ragtag group of nine unlikely fellows all there to aid a small hobbit on his quest. Their fate, unknown, and yet... there was one thing she was sure about. This feeling that engulfed her whenever she was near him. He had to have felt it too. Right?

Pairing: Aragorn x Original Female Character/Reader

Word Count: 4,113

Part One (Part Two : Part Three : Part Four ; Part Five)

The path ahead will be a perilous one. Filled with danger, betrayal, hurt. But you must always remember that lifelong friendships are made when one's life is at stake. Even the occasional romance can be bloomed in the darkest of times. 

Fate is a fickle thing. It can be rewritten by the people it tries to ensnare, but it will always be there. Bringing people together, tearing them apart. Forcing an innocent mind to be corrupted, and the strongest of hearts to be broken. 

Most do not understand fate. Not their own, not others, not the world’s. And yet they always try to. They try to hold onto the fact that their life is in their own hands. When in reality it is in their minds that their true power over fate lies. It is not something physical that can be tied down. It is a mirage in the desert. An illusion cast by a magician. You can see it. But never truly grasp it. A fact many try to ignore

Why is it then, that you believe in what fate has in store for you, that you merely follow where it takes you without a second thought? 

Cefrey Stormwind. Cefrey the Green. Cefrey.

You may be able to control the chaos, the wild, around you. But fate, the very thing you truly have faith in, will forever connect you to the one you believe you cannot have.

~~~

The forest sang with each gale of wind that brushed past the many green leaves and branches of each tree. The birds and little forest creatures joined in harmony, adding to the orchestra of the wild. This beautiful area of nature was home to all sorts of living beings. All with their own sense of self and purpose. It was truly a wonder to behold. 

Not only were the speaking creatures in this forest, but also the mute ones, their colors vibrant against the many shades of green around them. Purples and blues and oranges, along with greens of every variation, could be seen in this part of the woods, including one made of fabric instead of vegetation. The blonde girl, with her bright green eyes that seemed to change with each passing moment, twirled through the open patch of the forest, a wide smile on her face as she listened to the sounds around her. 

With a light bounce in her step, Cefrey walked across the flower-filled field, breathing in the warm air as the sun rose to its peak. Her green dress swirled behind her, flowers and grass brushing against it. In her hand rested a small wicker basket, filled to the brim with herbs and flowers she picked along the way. Curled dark blonde hair pinned to the side with a simple broach kept it out of her face. Cefrey hated to cut her hair but also hated it when it got in her face. A small dilemma, to be sure, but one that was fixed quite easily. 

She seemed entirely carefree in this state, even when darkness loomed on the horizon. Some would say it was foolish to be that optimistic, others would envy her ability to see the light wherever she could. But both would be wrong in their assumptions. Cefrey was quite aware of the doom that seeped into each and every crack and crevice of this world. She knew that it was coming and it was coming fast. And yet she believed to live in the present. To enjoy life’s greatest -- and albeit smallest -- pleasures. 

If only it could last just a bit longer.

A low hum sounded through the air, stopping the girl from her waltz through the greens. She sighed heavily, knowing full well that it wouldn’t do her any good to ignore the call of a friend. It was a good thing the best herbs for her project were found near Hobbiton, else Cefrey would be feeling a lot more anger towards the old wizard. 

After pinpointing exactly where the call came from, the blonde made her way towards a small hobbit hole with a green-painted door. Gandalf had better have a good reason for calling her towards the small village. He knew how much she hated being around people. They always asked her questions. Too many questions. Cefrey knew they meant no harm but the constant poking and prodding at her could get rather tiring. 

She brushed her hair out of her face as she reached the entrance to the many small homes built in the sides of hills, the sun slowly setting across the horizon. If the people who lived there weren’t so curious and frankly rude, she would actually enjoy going there every once in a while. Unfortunately, hobbits were curious. Especially when it came to someone new and potentially dangerous. They needed to loosen up a bit, in her opinion. Not to say all hobbits were impolite. Just most.

Ignoring the judgmental stares from the many halflings both outside and inside their homes, Cefrey carried on her way, the small basket in her hand swinging from side to side with each step. Cefrey the Green, was what most called her. Though she was no wizard by any means of the imagination. No, wizards needed a physical object for their power, usually a staff. Cefrey, on the other hand, had no need for such an object. Instead, the magic was a part of her. It dwelled inside her, boiling over if she couldn’t control it. It took her many years to maintain the worst of it, with the help of a certain gray wizard. That was one of the reasons some assumed she was a wizard; she could be seen with Gandalf the Gray more often than with any other person. People thought she was his apprentice of sorts, but in reality, he was merely a mentor, and a friend. 

The low humming grew louder as she walked up the small hill towards the round green door. She raised her free hand and knocked twice on the pained wood, the sound finally stopped once she hit the door. Cefrey heard soft footfalls walk through the tunnels until they reached the door and swung it open. Before her stood a short fellow, probably a few inches under four feet. His curly, dark brown hair reached just above her waist, and his face was quite young looking with bright blue eyes, but knowing how hobbits aged slower than men, the blonde knew he was much older than he seemed. He was wearing traveling clothes along with a walking stick. Strange, she thought, hobbits weren't known for traveling. Well, all except one, she supposed.

The hobbit stared at her wide-eyed, perhaps he had never seen a human lady, or perhaps he merely hadn’t expected her. Before he could say anything, a familiar face popped up behind him. Weathered skin framed by a long white beard and a floppy gray hat was a face Cefrey could never forget.

“Gandalf! You old coot, you called me all the way here and didn't have the decency to open the door yourself?” She teased the old wizard while shaking her head, a small smile on her freckled face. 

The wizard chuckled at his friend’s banter and told the hobbit to let her inside. “Now, now, Cefrey, no need to be rude in front of your host.”

She looked back to the hobbit next to her and smiled down at him. “You must be Frodo Baggins. I never got the pleasure of meeting you, but your uncle and I go way back.”

“You knew my uncle?” The shocked look on Frodo’s face was quite adorable.

“Of course! I’m not even surprised he hadn’t told you about me.” She bowed deeply, almost theatrically before introducing herself. “I am Cefrey. Some know me as Cefrey the Green, but there’s no need to use that old title.”

Frodo nodded his head, happy to have met another of Bilbo’s old friends. Gandalf cleared his throat from beside them and gestured for them to sit at the table. The blonde set her basket down and clasped her hands in front of her. 

“So, my dear friend, why is it that you called me here?”

The wizard’s usually warm countenance soured to one of distaste. “I am afraid it is not for simple pleasantries, dear. No, in fact, there are some pressing matters we must attend to.” He tilted his head towards the golden ring on the table and a dark foreboding feeling fell over Cefrey. She knew exactly what that ring was.

“Ah… I see. Pressing matters indeed…” She trailed off, waiting for Gandalf to continue.

“I must travel away for a brief time, but I do not wish Frodo to be alone during his journey.”

Frodo furrowed his brows. “You mean you won't be going with me?”

Gandalf shook his head, a deep frown beneath his beard. “No, Frodo, I cannot. However, I believe Cefrey here can keep you safe while I am away.” He looked at the blonde. “If that is something you will agree to, of course.”

Cefrey took a deep breath, mulling over what her friend asked her. She knew Gandalf would never ask her if it wasn’t truly important. And judging by the object they would be carrying, this task was incredibly vital. 

But before she could give her friend an answer, Gandalf stood quickly and ran over to the windows grabbing his staff on the way. The blonde turned to see what the old wizard was up to and saw the flowers outside the window rustling. She laughed quietly to herself as Gandalf hauled an unfortunate young hobbit up onto the table, a harsh glint in the wizard’s eyes. 

“Confound it all! Samwise Gamgee, have you been eavesdropping?” The anger in his voice was loud and clear and yet Cefrey merely smiled at the confrontation. He always did get ahead of himself. 

The hobbit put his hands in front of him in surrender and apologised to the wizard. Cefrey leaned back in her chair and watched the scene in front of her, clearly amused. Gandalf, being the resourceful man he was, enlisted the young Sam to be another one of Frodo’s companions. He then turned back to you and awaited your response to his previous proposition.

She shrugged her shoulders and stood up, eyeing the two hobbits, then the wizard. “To Bree? That’s not too far. And I have some business there anyway. Some company on a journey has never hurt anyone, right?” Trying to lighten the mood, she smiled at the halflings, though they all knew the trek to Bree would not be as carefree as Cefrey made it out to be. 

Gandalf let out a relieved sigh at her words, knowing the two hobbits would be much safer with Cefrey. “Thank you, my friend. I would never ask anything of you that you did not agree to.”

“I know, Gandalf. Don’t worry about me. I’m sure I can take care of these two.”

.

Not so far away, a cloaked rider dashed across the green plains. A sword strapped to his back and many other objects tied to the saddle of the horse he sat upon. The wind whipped past him, allowing a glimpse of dark hair and gray eyes to be seen. This rider felt something within him grow as he grew closer to his destination. He knew not what it was inside him, but he also knew that feelings such as that should be kept under close scrutiny.

The horse galloped on the soft ground, her breath heaving after each step. Her strong muscles kept the rider atop her back from falling off and made it so he was able to stay on the road for long periods of time. Light brown hair clashed horribly with the dark cloth the rider donned. But without the many layers of black clothing, he would be spotted straight away. Hiding in plain sight was one of his strong suits.

Seeing the sun sink lower into the clouds, the rider spotted a nice area to camp for the night. Making a quick fire and giving his horse a much needed bucket of water and a few apples, the man took off his hood, revealing more of his rugged features. Long, dark hair hung to his shoulders, seeming dirty and unkempt along with the messy stubble along his jaw. Dark gray eyes peered knowingly at his surroundings. The way his jaw was set and the way his eyes flicked towards each and every shadow showed just how well versed this rider was in surviving the wilderness. 

A sharp pang made its way to his heart and he grimaced at the feeling. Something was causing this to happen to him, something he couldn’t see. The man knew from years of experience that this was no normal pain. He couldn’t even say if it was magical. It felt as if something was pulling at him. Pulling him towards something. What that thing was, he did now know. The most he could say was that it was different. Different than anything he had encountered before. However, because of this, he could do nothing to stop it.

Thankfully, after a few minutes of rest, the pain faded until it was gone again. Though the rider knew that it was not gone for good. There was something about the way it made him feel that told him it would keep coming back. 

He sighed and looked at the setting sun. He watched the myriad of colors in the sky as they reflected on the clouds and the trees. Something was brewing in Middle Earth. And even though he knew not what it was, Aragorn knew he was a part of it. 

.

Gandalf led the trio into the woods where he departed from them, saying his business brought him elsewhere, to the head of his Order, but he would meet with them at the Prancing Pony. They said their goodbyes and Cefrey nodded in understanding to the old wizard. She swore she would keep the hobbits safe on their journey to Bree, and keep them safe she would. 

Frodo and Sam noticed that the green dressed girl did not carry any bags with her. The only thing she put on was a short brown cloak with a hood. They didn’t even see where she got it from. Frodo thought Cefrey was incredibly interesting and that she must have had plenty of thrilling stories to tell, especially if she was friends with his uncle. Sam, on the other hand, refused to take an eye off the strange woman. There was something about her that made him skeptical of her allegiance. He had heard of the tales the other hobbits told of her. Cefrey the Green, just as much of a trouble maker as Gandalf, though twice as strange.

Cefrey took the lead of the group and walked through the forest and fields as if she had lived in them her whole life. Sam called out to her, he had to know at least one thing, “So, Miss Cefrey, are you like Gandalf?”

The blonde chuckled at the hobbit’s inquiry. “Quite a broad question, Samwise.” She leaped over a large boulder effortlessly, her hair, tied in a loose bun, flopped behind her. “In some ways, I am very similar to dear old Gandalf. In others, I am almost the exact opposite. Which way are you referring to?”

Not entirely expecting that kind of answer, Sam flushed slightly before responding. “Well, I suppose what I mean to ask is whether you’re a wizard or not. I mean, people call you Cefrey the Green, and Gandalf is Gandalf the Gray, so…”

“So you assume that since I wear green and have a title like Gandalf’s I must be a wizard?” She continued walking while contemplating the hobbit’s question. “To answer that, Samwise, I must say that I am not a wizard. No, wizards have staffs and pointy hats. I have neither.” Before Sam could interject, Cefrey continued. “However, some call me a mage or a sorceress, but that does not mean I cannot use magic like dear old Gandalf. It merely works differently than the five old wizards’ does. Their magic is channeled through themselves and their staff. Mine is just a part of me. It flows through me just as my blood does. And that allows me to do this!” With a quick snap of her fingers, a small burst of light and thunder showered in front of the hobbit for a split second before disappearing completely.

She laughed loudly at the expression worn on Sam’s face; pure shock mixed with a bit of fear. Frodo was surprised for a bit as well but soon joined in with her laughter. While Sam just stood there for a moment before shooting a small glare at the blonde.

“That was entirely uncalled for, Miss Cefrey!”

She stopped laughing and apologised to the halfling. “Sorry, Samwise, but you did ask if I was a wizard, I just demonstrated that I wasn’t.” 

The next few hours of their trek consisted of Frodo and Sam asking Cefrey many questions. She obliged them albeit reluctantly since that was one of her biggest pet peeves, people asking her unnecessary questions. However, these two hobbits seemed a lot nicer than most folks she met, so she wasn’t as annoyed as she would have been normally. 

During their walk through the woods and fields and streams, Cefrey began to feel a hard pain in her chest. It was strange. She didn’t fall and hit herself on a rock, she never touched any poisonous plants, and yet this pain just deepened the more she walked on. Like some unknown force was taking her heart and squeezing it. She made no indication to her companions that she was hurting, she managed to hide it quite well in fact, but it still made her face twist in pain. 

Thankfully, after a few moments, the pain receded and went away as if it was never there. Curious and slightly frustrated that she could not figure out what it was, Cefrey ignored the odd pain and stored it in the back of her mind to think about later. At least, that was what she tried to do before she was rudely shoved to the ground by two sprinting halflings. 

One stood up and got a good look at the trio before a wide smile went across his face. “Frodo! Merry, it’s Frodo Baggins!”

The other hobbit eyed the one in question and also smiled. “Hello, Frodo.” He turned to face the sorceress and his smile never left. “And hello to you too, lady!”

Cefrey nodded her head to the two troublesome hobbits. She saw the many vegetables laying around them and shook her head. Her theory that they had stolen said crops was proven as a loud and angry voice boomed through the cornfield and a scythe was seen waving over the tall stalks. 

Without another word, the duo ran away with their arms still full of stolen goods as barking was heard closing in on their position. The blonde shook her head at the sight but ran after them nonetheless. The four halflings fell on top of one another while Cefrey landed gracefully on her feet on the dirt road, not a single drop of dirt on her simple green gown. The road…

Fearing the worst and having it accompanied by the shrill shriek of the very thing she dreaded, Cefrey called out to her companions and the newly added ones, “Get off the road!”

Grabbing onto Sam as he was arguing with the other two hobbits over a pile of mushrooms, she hurriedly hid him and herself under a large root beside the road. She hushed them all and tried to quiet her own breathing. She would have normally put a protective barrier around them, but knowing what was chasing them, she knew it would only draw its attention even more. 

A darkness fell over the mage, making it hard to breathe, to see, to keep her power at bay. No! She shook off the feeling of helplessness, of despair, and strengthened her resolve. She would not have this, this thing overtake her and destroy years of patience that allowed her to control herself and the power within her. She breathed slowly, feeling her control come back and her calm to take over. The darkness receded to the corners of her vision, but it was still there. Why…

With a sharp turn of her head, she glanced at Frodo beside her and her eyes widened at the sight. He was struggling to breathe, to maintain control of his body. Cefrey quickly grabbed his hands in hers and muttered a quiet incantation under her breath, bringing the light back to them. 

Thankfully, one of the hobbits threw a mushroom across the road, causing the creature to whip its head around and follow the new sound. The darkness finally left and Frodo regained himself, his breathing returning to normal. Cefrey let out a sigh of relief and stood up, brushing the dirt off her dress and helping the other hobbits to their feet. 

She granted them a very short respite before glancing around, looking for any sign of the creature. The woods seemed to close in around her and the mage ushered the halflings to keep going. “Come on, we have to continue moving.”

The urgency in her voice and the fearsome ordeal they went through with the black rider was enough to get the four of them moving as fast as they could. Cefrey led them through the woods, a couple of feet ahead of the others, her eyes switching between the trees, making sure they didn’t run into the rider again. She barely heard the hobbits speak to one another, her mind still racing until it was yet again consumed by the overbearing blackness.

She breathed in sharply, “Get down!”

The loud shriek of the black rider tore through the forest, almost deafening the group of five. It reared its horse above them, looking, searching for them. For the ring. Frodo told his cousins in a hushed tone that he and Sam had to leave, they had to get out of the Shire. 

Merry nodded his head, an idea coming to mind. “Right… Buckleberry Ferry… Follow me!”

The five stood up and quickly started running through the trees, avoiding branches and rocks along the way. Cefrey took the rear, wanting to keep an eye on the four halflings but also not knowing the way to this Ferry. Her strides were longer, but she managed to slow down enough to make sure they stayed in front of her and in her line of sight. Without warning, another rider burst through the trees in front of them, giving yet another high pitched wail from under its hood. Three of the hobbits ran past it towards the river while Frodo got trapped weaving in and out of the pitch-black horse. 

The mage grabbed his hand and pulled him with her to the ferry, not giving a second glance to the many riders behind them. She saw the ferry begin to move away from the dock and pushed the young ring bearer ahead of her while she stood her ground. Frodo continued running as Cefrey put her hands in front of her, a deep look of concentration on her pale face. 

Time seemed to slow around her, the riders’ steeds whinnied at the girl before them as the hobbits yelled at her and Frodo to get on the raft. A sudden bright flash of light erupted from Cefrey’s outstretched hands, blinding the riders and giving her and Frodo enough time to jump onto the ferry. She collapsed onto the small wooden boat, exhausted and frankly frightened at the determination the riders showed. This ring was more powerful than she originally believed. 

The four hobbits stood over her tired form, some parts of them in awe at what they just witnessed, other parts in deep worry at the sight of her seemingly sickened body. Frodo shooed them away and told Merry to get them to Bree as fast as possible. He knelt beside his companion and held her hand, squeezing it gently. 

“You can rest now, Cefrey. We’ll wake you once we get to the next crossing.”

She smiled tiredly at the young halfling, his kindness, and compassion a trait to be envied. With an almost nonexistent nod of her head, the sorceress slowly drifted into sleep.

#lord of the rings #aragorn x reader #aragorn x oc #original female character #aragorn #aragorn love story #fluff #part one #kate writes

[swanqiu]

A STUDY IN CHARACTER LAYERS.

——— slight mentions of: drugs, death

LAYER  001 :   THE  OUTSIDE.

NAME.   zhang qiu / “cho chang”.

EYE COLOR.   light brown.

HAIR STYLE / COLOR.  black, although more of a dark brown in most lights. she usually wears it down, if not in a neat bun at the office or a nice plait during matches.

HEIGHT.   5′3″

CLOTHING  STYLE.   black jeans! athletic shorts! small pieces of statement jewelry! turtlenecks! sleeveless tops with lacy straps! rayon blouses with 3/4 sleeves! tapered slim-fit pantsuits! shoes with some height that also pair with many different outfits! muggle hoodies supporting the local rugby and football teams! she “borrows” her partner’s tees and sweaters and casual wear, so lol add those to the list. she’s big on practicality and comfort over flair and height of fashion, but she does like keeping up with trends and coordinating her outfits to reflect that.

BEST  PHYSICAL  FEATURE.   her smile! it’s absolutely very cliche, but when she smiles and her nose does that crinkly thing and her eyes get all starry, it’s very unfair how powerful it is. alternatively, she also has a great ass, so there’s that.

LAYER  002 :   THE  INSIDE.

FEARS.   losing people she loves. having someone d*e during a healing procedure and her mind just shutting down during it.

GUILTY  PLEASURE.   parfaits! going for a late night fly! being on top!!!

BIGGEST  PET  PEEVE.   people who sneeze/cough without covering their mouth and nose. people in the magical community who somehow think muggles are “less developed” or “behind” without magic, when they’re the ones who haven’t even moved beyond printed news and radios to circulate current events and pop culture tbh.

AMBITIONS  FOR  THE  FUTURE.   to successfully campaign for a british seat at the international confederation of wizards (delegate timeline); to patent a line of at-home salves and develop at least one healing spell by the end of her residency (healer timeline); to just be the best mom and partner possible, honestly! (divorced verse)

LAYER  003 :   THOUGHTS.

FIRST  THOUGHTS  WAKING  UP.   huh. 6 AM already?

THINKS  ABOUT  MOST.   how other people are doing.

THINKS  ABOUT  BEFORE  BED.   any of the interactions she might have had that day.

WHAT  THEY  THINK  THEIR  BEST  QUALITY  IS.   her ability to depend on herself. her sociability. her commitment to fight for what’s right.

LAYER  004 :   WHAT’S  BETTER ?

SINGLE  OR  GROUP  DATES.   single (unless you’re harry potter and have to meet up with hermione later in the day). group dates are sometimes useful for gauging potential partners’ ability to crack on with her friends, though.

TO  BE  LOVED  OR  RESPECTED.   loved. respected. both?

BEAUTY  OR  BRAINS.   brains— for herself and for a potential partner. BUT i can’t lie, if we’re being really honest here, i’m absolutely tempted by the idea of cho being with a heart-of-gold jock whose sole purposes in life are to get gains, look good, and love cho. cho x himbo king is canon btw; the muggle she marries is a *checks notes* brickhouse rugby player who rescues animals on the side and doesn’t know the first thing about how getting sick works but will gladly and fondly listen to her explain everything from antibodies to the common cold to why wearing a mask helps.

DOGS  OR  CATS.   both.

LAYER  005 :   DO  THEY…

LIE.   not really, and never with bad intentions. as she gets older, she learns to use it more for self-preservation.

BELIEVE  IN  THEMSELVES.   yes.

BELIEVE  IN  LOVE.   yes. always.

WANT  SOMEONE.   no. in her divorced verse, the answer strays more toward yes.

LAYER  006 :   HAVE  THEY  EVER…

BEEN  ON  STAGE.   yes. ravenclaw common room parties are a whole event. terry boot may or may not have the negatives of the one time she sang karaoke to abba’s “dancing queen” on roger davies’s 17th birthday.

DONE  DRUGS.   yes. her muggle psychiatrist recommended medical mar*juana to cope with the very rare night terrors. she tried it for a little while, and it worked, but she ultimately prefers the calming potions made by healer pye. she used sleeping draughts for a little while after the war (who didn’t), but she hasn’t used them since.

GOTTEN  DRUNK.   lmao yes. me, ess the mun, cupping my hands around my mouth: baby girl’s a light weight, y’all!

CHANGED  WHO  THEY  WERE  TO  FIT  IN.   no. part of the reason we read about her experiencing ostracization at school (through harry’s pov) was because she didn’t waver in her defense of marietta and was quite open with her emotions (although she ended up having to repress a large part of her grief and anger anyway). she’s very firm about sticking to her resolutions and not bending who she is in order to do that. (that might get slightly lost in romantic relationships, though.) in her moved-to-the-muggle-world verse, she definitely changes her external habits and way of living to blend in, but it’s not so much a change of her character or her person.

LAYER  007 :   FAVORITES.

FAVORITE COLOR.   beige. light purples. dark greens.

FAVORITE  ANIMAL.   swans.

FAVORITE  MOVIE.   the princess bride (1986). in the mood for love (2000). miss congeniality (2000). remember the titans (2000). 2000 was clearly a big year for her and movies.

FAVORITE  GAME.   lmao as if it would be anything other than quidditch! i’m not exactly sure how fans keep up with the sport if they’re not watching in-person, but when league cup season rolls around, the television is on, the radio is tuned, the newspaper articles about game highlights and star players are read, the plumpton tutshill jersey is ritualistically worn...

LAYER  008 :   SLEEP.

HEAVY  OR  LIGHT  SLEEPER.   light sleeper.

WHAT  SIDE  OF  THE  BED  DO  THEY  SLEEP  ON.   the right side— when she shares a bed with someone, it’s more comfortable for her to cuddle up to them if they’re on her left. in her divorced verse, she sleeps on whatever part of the bed the kids didn’t claim in the middle of the night.

WHAT  DO  THEY  WEAR  TO  BED.   old quidditch stuff— she has one or two ravenclaw scrimmage jerseys that are so old the house insignia’s already faded away. she also has endless tutshill tornadoes shirseys and tees that she’s worn and washed so often that the fabric’s become so soft now and is definitely susceptible to hem stitches unraveling. her favorite sleepwear combo is a pair of cotton boyshorts and to go braless under one of her oversized tutshill tees. comfortable— and as flattering and as easy access as possible, for those nights.

WEIRD  THINGS  THEY  DO  IN  THEIR  SLEEP.   she mumbles a lot sometimes.

LAYER  009 :   LOVE.

BIG  DECLARATIONS  OR  SMALL.   small, from her end, but she’s extremely appreciative (and only a little embarrassed) of big declarations toward her.

OPEN  OR  CLOSED  OFF.   open, although she wisely exercises caution with some people and thus becomes more closed off.

LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT  OR  SLOW  BURN.   slow burn! this is also me, ess, exposing myself for my love of a good slow burn.

ONE  TRUE  LOVE  OR  A  STRING.   a string, but maybe it leads to comfortably settling into that true love. she definitely doesn’t believe that there is only and exactly one love out there for each person. that myth is a terrible and disheartening way to go about life, frankly.

LAYER  010 :   FINISH  THE  SENTENCE.

I  LOVE.   "...that things do get better. my friends. the people i consider my family. my children (added for divorced verse).”

I  FEEL.   "...insignificant, in the grand scheme of things. content with where i am, usually. but mostly, i tend to feel everything, unfortunately all at once.”

I  HIDE.   “...the parts of my feelings that lead into anger.”

I  MISS.   "...the simpler days. hogwarts days, honestly.”

I  WISH.   "...i could have had more time. to do things. to be with people. to enjoy certain moments. sorry— a bit vague, huh?”

tagged by: @gramenviride​ ( 💕 )​ tagging: lol i’ve already tagged a lot of you in these dash games/character studies and likely blew up your notifications over the last week; this turned out pretty long and might use more brain power than usual, so i’m gonna go with a general call for anyone that sees this and wants to fill this out to please do it! and tag me if you do! 

#indiecho character study #this was just an opportunity for me to hurl all of my headcanons at you; if you read through this whole thing i appreciate you sm #lol this was indeed a lot of things to just blast onto the dash but. i was given a platform and i have many thoughts what can i say!

[randomuniverses]

RWBY Volume 6 Crew Commentary Notes!

I just got the Volume 6 Blu Ray and I'm going to be watching the crew's commentary! Kerry was talking with a few others as well as Miles after chapter 1. I wrote what I found interesting or important:

Chapter 1:

They took out the blood at the White Fang Headquarters but had to add it back in later

The train station was the first new set of the season

They used Houdini for crowd shots this season

Showing what's in the bag RWBY got for Yang is planned for next season

On each boba cup lid (from the food in the background of the train station scene) has the RWBY chibi characters

Originally they planned Ilia to wear a kimono. Also a hint to seeing her again!

Kerry's mom wants him (Neptune) to be in the show more

The whole train set is a circle track

The Grimm manticore design was from an artist from the RWBY subreddit! Kerry saw it and he loved it and he contacted her to hire her.

There was an inside joke for the audio team where Dee dies it sounds like the track says "Oh Dee..."

Dee and Dudley barely graduated from their academy

There was originally going to be a closer shot of Salem in the OP but they wanted to keep the mystery about who she was

Chapter 2:

They put in some lines from the house (what Nora says) that were a response to the criticism from Volume 5 about them staying there too long

Nora was originally going to tell Blake everything she needed to know with some whiteboards on the train, but they decided to just show the house where things are explained

The footsteps in the snow were made using nulls in After Effects. They explain the process which is pretty interesting.

Oscar struggling was done in mocap

Lil Miss Malachite is an allusion for Little Miss Muffett (duh) and turns out she is the mother of the Malachite Twins

The Malachite Twins went to live in Vale and be bad guys

Jinn's hair is separated/split more than a normal character's. Same with Summer Rose

Chapter 3:

Salem's story one of the first things ever written for RWBY

They really wanted a character's story to revolve around 'happily ever after' then a few steps after that, so Salem was the perfect character for that

Originally the Lost Fable was chapter 3 and 4, but they combined them into one

The whole episode was mocapped in a single weekend

The crew has a Ruby body pillow prototype that's used during mocap

The Gods are inspired from the Gods of Greek Mythology

They want to show more natural wildlife in RWBY, but due to budget constraints it's hard

The video game Brutal Legend inspired the scene where Salem throws herself into the pool of Grimm

Originally the Gods were closer to human size but were scaled up

The story structure for the episode took inspiration from Harry Potter and Game of Thrones

Originally there was going to be more dialogue from the main cast, but they decided against it

They were originally had Salem look like her current form (well coloring wise), but decided to remove the red veins she has so she looked less spooky

The toy dog one of the children has is a Wizard of Oz reference

Jinn was meant to be an objective outside observer but also a storyteller

The children for one of Oz's reincarnations have silver eyes (confirmed)

Chapter 4:

They were excited to explore Qrow's alcoholism past it just being a joke

Hazel is the most compassionate of the villains

Salem knows how to manipulate people and has different methods for motivations for each of her lieutenants

For example she doesn't have to say that many mean things for Tyrian to take it to heart because he is so loyal

She also knows just how fearful Emerald is of her

Chapter 5:

Neo has begun to evolve her semblance, as shown in the fight

Neo wasn't originally planned to be in this Volume, but was decided when they thought of what they could do better to make Cinder's storyline better and for when Cinder gets to Atlas they thought her having a partner was cool

Brunswick Farm was another idea they had since the very beginning

The Apathy fit so well in this volume because the characters are at a low point

Blake doesn't always get the nuances of relationships and makes a misstep (when Yang and Blake talked and she told Yang she would protect her)

Chapter 6:

The Apathy came from an image of a horrifying scarecrow and they came up with the idea of a grimm that wasn't physically formidable. As well as a planet from the movie Serenity where everyone fell to sleep and died, and a short story about depression and not wanting to do anything

The Apathy work through proximity but if they see you their effect gets even worse. But you can get it jolted out of the apathy for a little while if you are startled

The artist that made the Apathy was the same one that made the Manticore

Maria is colorblind, which was evident in the episode when we learn she couldn't tell Ruby's eye color immediately

Seeing the burning Apathy, Qrow realizes that he almost let everyone get killed and now starts to hate himself (his depression changes)

Chapter 7:

Them having a restriction for how long fights could be (because fights are expensive) led to Miles thinking of a fight that had to last 60 seconds (and Tock)

Maria's weapon and use of dust was inspired from the God of War reboot as well as Marvel's Thor

Maria was originally from Volume 5 but they had to take her out because it was hard to balance out all the storylines

Originally Maria was going to have a cat, and Qrow was supposed to find her in his search for Hunstman

The Arc siblings are all a color of the rainbow, with one set of twins. Saphron is orange.

The toy Adrien is playing with is foreshadowing to the plane and the Leviathan

Chapter 8:

Only Cordovin's guards are so goofy (compared to the rest of Atlas guards), and Cordo is considered a nuisance. This was a job they thought she could do well without bothering anyone

Kerry wanted an old lady fight in the show, so he got one

The Old Lady in the Show was something Monty thought of. The boot is the foot of a giant mech. And the giant mech was originally going to be at the end of V2

Butterflies are normally not out in the winter but this is Remnant ;)

Chapter 9:

Miles likes to think of Tyrian as one of the most insightful villains. He is really good at observing people and knows how to take them apart mentally and physically

This is where they said this is the first time we see Mercury and Emerald being vulnerable to each other (I didn’t include this earlier, sorry!)

They say they’ll never confirm who the Red Haired Woman is, but they said use your brains lol

Looking up at Pyrrha and seeing the airship fly by made Jaune think of the idea to steal one

Chapter 10:

Adrian's crying is not a semblance, that's just comedy

They pitched Jaune's voice down when he says "Roger" so he can sound more serious

Originally there was going to be another episode (episode 14t) where we would see Atlas and Mantle. But they didn't want to end on that because it would require a ton of new assets because of the buildings and the people wearing different clothes

The next season will start with a bang

The Iron Giant was a reference for the mech

Chapter 11:

The mech fight was the most effects-heavy of the fights this season

Blake has always had the scar on her body since the new outfit, but it has been hard to see until her jacket comes off

Yang hitting Adam with her bike was thought of early on in the scripting process

Chapter 12:

A lot of talk about how the animations were made and such

This season had a core fight team that animated all the fights

The way Adam dies is apparently similar to how something in Nier: Automata plays out. Kerry has only played an hour of the game so he did not know that was a thing

But Nier: Automata was actually referenced for the mech fight (the mechanics of how the fight would work) since a robot was involved in the first boss fight.

Shots from the Adam and Yang fight were similar to those from Naurto, but that was also a coincidence

They called the Leviathan Levi in the script because it was easier to type

Chapter 13:

They considered Adrian being a very young baby, but later changed him to be a toddler

Gurren Laggan was another reference used for this part (haven't seen that anime but it was referenced when the mech drills the Leviathan)

They really wanted to make sure we could hear liquid in Qrow's flask

Salem is no longer willing to confine herself to a room, and is going to start being more active by creating her army of minions

#rwby #rwby v6 #directors commentary #crew commentary #ruby rose #yang #blake #weiss #oscar #qrow #maria

[hello-vampire-kitty]

Servamp Chapter 88 “Tsukimitsu Iori”

READ ONLINE

It’s finally done, I know it took a while but I had a bunch of IRL problems to deal with and the other thing was that Tanaka pretty much challenges me every time with some peculiar word choices that I have to mull over a lot. Honestly, that’s their gimmick, I even reach out sometimes to other people, even native Japanese and they are sometimes baffled. Anywho, I have some notes that I made for certain lines and also talking about the references in this chapter:

-Right off the bat, Tsubaki’s line sounded odd, especially his last line which I wrote like “I blurted out a question.” Literally, it would be like “I talked in such a way that I questioned” (and has the nuance of doing it by accident). Sounds so weird to me :/ But, even someone else that I consulted with understood the same thing. (Tanaka what are you doing to me?!)

-Iori’s line “I’m the type who always makes sure to lock things up”. He basically said “I take care to lock up” (鍵をかける translates as ‘to lock the door’ and I think this implies that he ensures to keep things protected, that he doesn’t leave openings for others who would attempt at doing something with the things/persons that are kept secure. I think it also implies that he is very  thorough, like he displayed by having a trump card.

-New spells! It’s awesome how all three siblings play a part in it! This one is obvious, their spell is based on “The Wizard of Oz”, and this isn’t the first time it we have a reference from it. In chapter 70 when Yumikage used his spell “Cry for the moon”, he also had a line that said ‘cowardly lion’ and this time, his line also has that subject. Oh and yeah, it made me remember that the shoes in the story were silver, not ruby, like how they are mostly known (ruby slippers, which were like that in the movie). Another reference from Norse mythology, Bifröst is the rainbow bridge that connects Asgard, the world of the Aesir tribe of gods, with Midgard, the world of humanity. Bifröst is guarded by the ever-vigilant god Heimdall. I think that the allusion to a rainbow could be related to the song featured in the movie “Somewhere over the rainbow” (I don’t remember a lot from the movie, but I’ve seen a few illustrations with the Emerald City depicted with a rainbow above it). This might be connected with the headline in the colored illustration of the chapter where it says ‘a different world’, which fits with the description of the rainbow bridge connecting worlds.

-I don’t know what Iori means by ‘being the first’...(and like omg, that spell was so dangerous on him? ;; when he said “I’ll pay the cost”, does that mean that it has a great side effect? I don’t think this might have been his first time using it, but maybe he was too wounded...) -Miyako’s spell, while from what I saw, the correct spelling is valkyrie, I liked how it sounded better with Valkyria. Also, Brunhilde also has various spellings, I chose that one. I also “Swan Lake”, they really gave Miyako the imagery of grace, like a swan but also power like that of a valkyrie.

I am so looking forward to seeing what the business with the “werewolf” will be like (and I’m not certain, but did they make it sound like Mahiru would know this ‘werewolf’? Lol, don’t tell me it’s Touma xD)

And that’s it for this chapter, and as usual “Tanaka-sensei, why are you doing this me?”

If you enjoy the translations, a coffee to show your support would be lovely♥

#servamp #chapter 88 #my translation