#'what if this is just a pipe dream for me?'

[raekensluver]

echoes of loss and love

description: you are haunted by memories of your relationship with fred weasley before his death. you feel like you're stuck in a loop, unable to move on when one day, george tells you fred was going to propose.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader, platonic!george weasley x fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of the hogwarts war, fred's canon death, survivors guilt.

song rec: all i want by kodaline- "but if you loved me, why did you leave me?"

w.c: 1.8k

an: to whoever wrote that one fic where george dyes his hair blue because he hates that whenever he looks in the mirror he sees fred- count. your. days. thx !!

the morning air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of fresh dew from the burrow. you sat on the edge of the bed, your feet touching the cold wooden floorboards, feeling the weight of the world press down on your shoulders. your eyes scanned the room, lingering on the frayed curtains and the chipped paint on the walls. the familiarity of it all brought a pang of nostalgia and a deep, unshakeable sadness. you had not slept well, as was the norm these days, plagued by dreams that felt more like echoes of a past life than mere nocturnal imaginings.

george lay sprawled across on his own bed on the other side of the room, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. his face was a portrait of peace, untouched by the burdens that you knew he bore in his waking hours. the sight of him there, so much like fred, yet so painfully different, brought a lump to your throat. you remembered the countless nights you had spent in this very room, sharing laughter and secrets with the two of them until the early hours of the morning. the twins had always been inseparable, a unit, a force of nature that could not be divided. but now, fred's side of the room remained cold and untouched aside from your movement, a stark reminder of the gaping hole left in both your heart and the fabric of the weasley family.

you stood up slowly, the floorboards creaking beneath you, and padded over to the window. outside, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, warm light on the dew-kissed garden. the leaves on the trees were tinged with gold and red, whispering of the approaching autumn. it was a beautiful scene, but the beauty felt hollow, as if the vibrancy of color was only a cruel mockery of the emptiness you felt within. you leaned against the windowsill, your eyes tracing the patterns the light made on the floor.

the guilt was a heavy, constant presence, like a shadow that never left your side. you had been there when the wall exploded, when fred's life had been so brutally extinguished. the sound of the blast still reverberated in your ears, a never-ending echo of the moment that had torn your world apart. his laughter, his warmth, his very essence had been wrenched away from you, leaving nothing but cold, empty space. you could still see the look in his eyes, the flash of surprise and pain, the way his hand had reached out for you as if he could somehow pull you into safety.

for a while, george had been cold towards you, his grief a tangible barrier that you couldn't breach. every time you looked at him, you saw the accusation in his gaze, the unspoken question of why it had been fred and not you. you understood his anger, his pain, but it didn't make the silent treatment any easier to bear. the burden of guilt grew heavier with each passing day, each missed opportunity to apologize or explain, to somehow make it right. but what could you say? there were no words to justify the cruel hand of fate that had taken fred from you both.

you decided to make some tea, hoping the warmth would soothe your soul. the kitchen was quiet, the embers of the fireplace glowing dimly. as you filled the kettle with water, the rusty pipes groaned, reminding you of the burrow's age. the weasley's had lived here for generations, and it was a place filled with love and laughter. now, it felt like a museum dedicated to a happiness that no longer existed. you placed the kettle on the stove and watched as the flame grew, the heat slowly spreading through the metal.

staring at the teapot, you waited for the water to boil. it was a simple task, one that had been done countless times before in this very kitchen. but today, it felt like a monumental effort. every second that ticked by was a reminder of the moments you had lost with fred. the teapot began to whistle, a shrill sound that pierced the silence. you jumped, startled, and hastily turned off the stove. the whistle died down, leaving only the soft hiss of the cooling water. you paused, your hand hovering over the teapot, your eyes welling up with unshed tears. fred had always liked his tea with three lumps of sugar and a dash of milk, just like his mother made it. the thought brought a bittersweet smile to your face.

the door to the kitchen creaked open, and you looked up to see george standing there, his hair a wild mess from sleep. his eyes searched yours, a silent question hanging in the air. for a moment, you felt like you were seeing fred in his place, the same look of curiosity and concern mirrored in his twin's gaze. your heart clenched, and you had to look away, focusing instead on the steaming kettle. "can't sleep?" he asked, his voice thick with the grogginess of early morning.

you nodded, your voice a whisper. "same dreams."

george's eyes softened with understanding. he padded over to the table and pulled out a chair, the legs scraping against the floor. "i know," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "it's like he's still here, but every time i turn around, he's gone again."

you filled two cups with tea, the warmth of the porcelain comforting against your cold palms. you slid one across the table to him, and he took it with a nod of thanks. "it's just… i can't shake the feeling that i should have done more," you confessed, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. "i should have been able to save him."

george was silent for a long moment, the only sound the clinking of spoons against the sides of the cups as you both added sugar and stirred. "you can't blame yourself," he said finally, his voice gentle. "none of us could have seen that coming. it was war, and fred knew the risks."

you took a sip of your tea, the warmth spreading through you like a comforting embrace. "i know that," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "but it doesn't make it any easier."

george reached across the table and took your hand in his, his grip firm and reassuring. his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, a silent gesture of comfort. his eyes met yours, and for the first time since the battle, you saw something other than pain and anger in them. there was a glimmer of understanding, a bridge built from shared grief. "you know," he began, his voice low and tentative, "after it happened, i kept thinking about all the times we argued, all the little things that didn't seem to matter. i wish i could take them all back, tell him how much he meant to me."

you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. "i do too. i wish i could tell him how much i loved him."

george took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "you know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "fred had plans for after the war."

your heart skipped a beat. plans? what could fred have planned that you didn't know about? "what do you mean?"

george's gaze fell to the table, his thumb still moving in soothing circles on your hand. "he had a ring," he said, his voice barely audible. "he was going to ask you to marry him, after the war. said he couldn't wait any longer to make it official."

a cold shock washed over you. a ring? fred had wanted to marry you? you felt your breath catch in your throat, the reality of what you had lost sinking in even deeper. "what happened to it?" you managed to ask, your voice shaking.

george's eyes searched yours, and then he got up from his chair, leaving his hand on the table. "he hid it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "he didn't want to carry it with him in case…" his voice trailed off, and you could see the pain etched on his face. he disappeared from the room, leaving you sitting there, the cup of tea cooling in your hand, the words echoing in the silence.

a few moments later, he returned, a small, worn box in his hand. he placed it on the table between you, and you could see his hand tremble as he pushed it towards you. you picked it up, your heart racing. the box was old, the leather cracked and faded, the clasp stiff with disuse. you opened it, and there, nestled in the velvet, was the ring. it was a simple band of gold, with an intricate knot design, the kind that fred had always loved. a small diamond glinted in the early morning light, winking at you like a teardrop frozen in time.

you slid the ring onto your finger, and it fit perfectly, as if it had been made just for you. it was a strange sensation, a warmth that seemed to seep into your very soul, a final gift from fred that you hadn't expected. the weight of it felt right, like a piece of him that you could hold onto forever. you looked up at george, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and hope. "he picked it out himself, " he said, his voice thick with emotion. "he wanted you to know that you were it for him."

you didn't know what to say, so you just sat there, staring at the ring, feeling the warmth of fred's love through the metal. the silence stretched between you, filled with a thousand unspoken words. the sun was now fully up, casting a soft glow through the kitchen window, painting the room in shades of gold and amber. it was a moment that felt both surreal and achingly real, a moment that you knew would be etched into your memory forever.

finally, you found your voice. "thank you," you whispered, your eyes still fixed on the ring. "for telling me. for giving me this."

george nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "you were the best thing that ever happened to him," he said, his voice cracking. "i know he'd want you to have it."

you felt a lump form in your throat, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. instead, you leaned across the table and hugged him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his familiar scent, so much like fred's. it was a bittersweet moment, one that brought both solace and pain.

for a while, you sat there in silence, sipping your tea, the ring feeling like a lifeline to a past you could never quite touch again. but it was a lifeline you were grateful for, a tangible piece of fred that you could hold onto. as you sat with george, you realized that while you would never be able to fill the void left by fred's absence, you had each other. two broken halves of a whole, trying to find a new way to live in a world that had changed irrevocably.

[heysawbones]

Like a lot of kids, I had nightmares. Many nightmares. Often. Nightly, really. Initially, I thought the solution was to pray every night. I had to let God know how strongly I felt about not having nightmares, so I'd say "please" an escalating number of times. As you might guess, this was ineffective. Saying it 151 times was no better than 150. Real waste of time. It didn't even make me feel better about looking in the general direction of the open closet at night.

With prayer off the table and "talking to someone" about it never having been an option, I turned to lucid dreaming. I hear that some people don't think lucid dreaming is real. On the contrary: it's real, and I suspect it's easier for people who already have fucked up REM sleep. People with fucked up REM sleep are probably more likely to want lucid dreams, so that's a fine coincidence. What nobody ever says - or at least, I've never heard it said - is that knowing you are dreaming, and being able to control said dreams, are vastly different things. My subconscious didn't want to have its narratives fucked with. Oh, you know this is a dream? You think you're clever? Oh, you're deciding you're going to fly, now? Check this out. You're going to catch your ankles on these grocery store shelves as you take flight. You're going to fall down. A great hole will open in the linoleum, and suck you down an ominous cartoon pipe. Hope you liked that. You're escaping on a horse? The horse grows a gaping maw on the back of its neck and bites your upper body off. The thrilling highway escape Hot Wheels™ ramps off into the boiling ocean. The waterpark is abandoned. The multistory car park is collapsing at a barely perceptible speed. If you ever find yourself in Astroworld, despite the fact that you know you are dreaming, it turns out you are trespassing. The mall never has the clothes you want. Your characters never have their faces. You look at a dimly lit locker room full of padded toilets and wet footsteps without people to make them and you think, "I'm asleep, can't this be a normal bathroom?" No. Merely knowing that one is asleep is not enough. Lucid dreaming didn't make nightmares go away, it just changed the dynamic. My subconscious demanded to be heard, sans alterations. I reached out to turn the "What the Fuck?" dial down from nine to say, four or so, and it slapped my hand out of the way repeatedly, hissing and screeching. Very petty.

I settled on teaching myself to wake up.

[snowangeldotmp3]

yall ever rewatch a movie so good you breakdown crying and remember the meaning of life???

[vse-kar-vem]

together in every universe. or something

[sergle]

Might be worth trying a very temporary dye to test out having black hair? & then if you don't like it you can get rid of it without all the drama?

There is not a black dye on this EARTH that is ACTUALLY temporary and actually delivers results that look anywhere close to black. it's either staying forever, or it's going to come out greyish blue, or BOTH if ya nasty

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Anyway I got notified that I'll be getting a nice $$ bonus from work today and I wish that I could celebrate with someone in a way that didn't just feel like obnoxious bragging. Like beyond the financial aspect, it's just nice to be recognized for good work and I actually feel... good?? about this job??

But it feels so silly to say I want to celebrate when I just got back from what felt like my first real vacation in a very long time and am doing cool comic con stuff this weekend and am scheduled for a new tattoo next weekend. I am already doing lots of things to try to make myself feel good! It feels selfish to want more!

But I guess even with all of that, there's just still a hunger for external validation from trusted sources. Will I ever grow out of wanting someone to be proud of me?

[butwhatifidothis]

Ultimately, I think one of the worst things Hopes does wrt its writing of Claude is take out all of the complexities and contradictions that had made him so interesting to begin with.

OG Claude lies and manipulates people and closes himself off while still searching for the truth and wanting people to come together and be open with each other, because of how his traumas meld together with his dreams. He says that he'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants and shows off opportunistic tendencies and then buckles at the first sight of innocents getting hurt, because no matter how much he wants what he wants he still prioritizes the lives of the people around him over anything else. He knows of people's capacity to hurt others for petty or illogical reasons - was raised with that knowledge beating its existence into him - and yet still dreams of a world where people of different lands and cultures can still be friends, because that is how tightly he holds onto his dreams. He's a kind person with the capacity for being a dick, and his contradictions add on so much to his character; they in large part are his character.

Hopes Claude? He lies and manipulates people and closes himself off... and that's it. He says he'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants... and he does. He knows of people's capacity to hurt others for petty or illogical reasons... and has no real dreams of stopping it (or dreams of anything in the future really, by his own admission) and he indulges in that very behavior himself, seemingly without any awareness. He is untrustworthy, and manipulative, and opportunist... and that's it. What you see is what you get. And if this were a character unto themselves, if we're kind and we ignore all of the other issues with Hopes!Claude's writing, that would be a fun enough villain to follow around.

But it's not; this is supposed to be Claude. This is a character who has so much of his foundations be built on the idea that what he presents on the surface isn't all that he seems. That he's more than a character who is just "tee hee I'm only pretending to be nice but I'm actually eeeeevil evil evil evil evil evil evil," but someone who both uses kindness as a means to an end and embodies it genuinely. Warm yet calculated, a good man with real flaws - THAT is who Claude is. Hopes Claude is who Claude is if you strip him of any complexity - He Is Only Pretending To Be Good, But Actually He Is Bad.

He's just... easier to swallow, in a sense. Claude is a good person who is willing and able to do bad things, but only up to a very specific, very clear point, all for a good dream he's held onto for years and plans extensively to make a reality in the future; Clyde is a shit person who's willing to do everything short of bombing specifically whatever land he himself is ruling, all for what essentially amounts to no concrete purpose. There's no need to think about Clyde as hard, since he just does what he does because he's doing it and that's enough.

It's why I'm glad I am Dev-Approved to just fuckin' ignore Hopes entirely as a horrific fever dream, because Hopes does not understand what made Claude so lovable at all

[kangaracha]

wips list for the end of march

nevermore (145/300k, edit complete)

queenmaker (16 chapters written)

FNF (8/10k)

leave part 2

what the water brought (25/50k)

boxer!minho? dlc? something

sick fic (handed to keeps, godspeed)

the gone and the gathered ch 3&4

valleys (complete rewrite)

tgbyb ch 5

tsotl end part 1

darling don't wake up x4

goldmine goldmine (landmine) (6/40k)

soul is yours to keep/zelda fic

draculas

the finished things list! raise a glass!

leave part 1

lyre lyre

[jvzebel-x]

the Damar Hamilin situation is horrific for a lot of reasons, obviously, but it still just... i am honestly at a loss for words at how the NFL is&has been handling it.

like, this wasn't a mistake or an accident, this was a function of the game&a clean play. there was no foul, as far as i could tell or have heard. an extremely healthy&well trained young man almost fucking died as a function of the game, &the NFL is not only trying to deny their callousness at the event in general:

they have got whole cardiologists on deck trying to explain what happened like it wasn't a CLEAN HIT THAT STOPPED HIS HEART ON NATIONAL TELEVISION:

[image text: From your perspective, what are the possible causes of Hamlin's cardiac arrest?

Dr. Baggish: There's a long list: there are genetic and congenital abnormalities which could be at play, I know there's been speculation about the blunt force from the tackle, but I would say that it's really premature to make any speculation. In fact, to jump to a conclusion would be a mistake. The diagnosis of commotio cordis, for example [which refers to a fatal disruption of the heart rhythm from a blow to the chest], is what we call a diagnosis of exclusion, meaning other things have been eliminated. We would never conclude that unless other factors have been ruled out. /text]

this shit is fucking evil.

[genderqueerpond]

"I have heard talk of you Doctor. The madman dressed as a rainbow."

"Yes, I only appear after it rains. Makes scheduling a nightmare."

[firestorm09890]

if you were wondering how that batshit video game crossover rp I mention intermittently is going, right now Beat twewy (neo era) is actively pursuing the friendship of Zexion because he's smart and, quote, "so cool dawg", which has included Beat stealing a kill from him and then winking at him, so. it sure is going. btw i highly recommend doing batshit rps with your friends featuring your respective favorite fictional weirdos, it's been doing wonders for my mental health

[ironmanstan]

I am coming to the realization i have been slowly killing myself with work i think oops

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

like im just saying they should invent a family that doesn't make you want to kill yourself

[oysterie]

playing so much eo luminous the last few days i tetris effecting fish swimming in the corners of my vision at all times.

[miamicommune]

.

[chitin-crusader]

kindof losing my mind bc uhhhh. how am i supposed to like. afford to live.