#but that changed and he became her best friend again

[mywhisperingwords]

still here | fred g. weasley

summary: an old friend starts showing up every time you need him word count: 5.6k masterlist

The corridors of St. Mungo’s were quieter than usual, but there was still a hum of urgency in the air.

Since the war had ended, the hospital had been inundated with patients—some still recovering from physical wounds, others battling the mental scars left behind. You’d been working there for weeks now, throwing yourself into the chaos as a way to avoid the memories.

The war was over.

That was what everyone said.

But it didn’t feel like it. Not to you.

You rubbed the back of your neck as you turned the corner, the exhaustion of the day dragging at your heels. Healing was rewarding, but it was unrelenting too. Your own grief, your own loss, had been shoved to the side so you could focus on fixing others. It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

The familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you turned toward the sound.

Fred Weasley was leaning casually against the wall, hands stuffed into his pockets, his hair messy but bright as ever. His smile stretched across his face like it always did, a bit crooked, a bit mischievous.

“Fred?” Your voice cracked, disbelief threading through it.

“In the flesh,” he said with a grin. “You weren’t expecting me, were you?”

You stared at him, your mind fumbling to piece together what was happening. He was here. Alive. Whole. Standing in front of you as though nothing had changed.

It had been too long since you’ve last seen him.

“I—no,” you said finally, your hand gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it hurt. “What are you… what are you doing here?”

“Visiting,” he said easily, jerking his chin toward one of the nearby rooms. “Someone needed cheering up, and you know me—I’m the best man for the job.”

You laughed, a soft, disbelieving sound. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“And you have,” Fred said, his eyes sweeping over you. There was something softer in his tone, something unspoken. “You look tired.”

“I’ve been busy,” you said, shrugging.

“I can see that,” he replied, the smile tugging at his lips dimming just slightly. “But don’t let it wear you down too much, alright? You’ve always been better at taking care of everyone else than yourself.”

You swallowed, his words hitting somewhere deeper than you wanted to admit. “It’s… good to see you.”

Fred grinned again, bright and wide. “Good to see you too, love. It’s been too long. Let’s change that, yeah? You know where to find me.”

Before you could respond, he gave you a wink and strolled away down the corridor, disappearing around the corner.

You stood there for a moment, frozen. It had felt so normal, so effortless. Just like before.

“Who were you talking to?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to see Elena, a fellow Healer, approaching with a curious look.

“Oh,” you said quickly, your pulse still racing. “Just… an old friend.”

Elena smiled, tilting her head. “Nice to see familiar faces, isn’t it? Especially after everything.”

You nodded faintly, but something about her tone didn’t sit right.

The exhaustion in her eyes was clear, and you felt it too. Sometimes it was hard to be kind to yourself when you put it all on another person.

“You should take a break, let me take over some of your patients,” you told her, a warm smile on your face.

Elena watched you closely, before shaking her head. “Don’t throw yourself into more work, you need to rest too.”

The rest of the day passed in a haze. You went through the motions, treating patients, mixing potions, and doing your best to avoid lingering too long on the morning’s encounter.

But the more you thought about it, the harder it became to focus. Seeing Fred again had felt like coming up for air after being underwater for too long. It had stirred something in you—hope, relief, a flicker of happiness you hadn’t felt in ages.

&

You sank into the couch the moment you walked through the door to your flat, kicking off your shoes with a groan. Another day of potions, poultices, and endless rounds of patients, each one a stark reminder of what had been lost in the war.

St. Mungo’s was a lifeline, sure. It gave you purpose. But it also drained you, leaving little room to process everything you’d been through.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, savoring the quiet.

The knock on your door startled you.

Frowning, you dragged yourself to your feet, wondering who it could be at this hour.

When you opened the door, Fred Weasley was standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets and that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“Fred?” you said, blinking at him. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t come find me,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your brows furrowed. “I’ve been busy.”

“And I’ve been bored,” he replied, throwing himself onto your couch like he owned the place. “What’s a bloke got to do to get a little attention around here?”

Despite yourself, you felt the corner of your mouth twitch. Fred had always been like this—effortless, larger than life. He had a way of making everything else fade into the background.

“I didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me,” you said, heading to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

“Well, someone’s got to,” he called after you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face.

A few minutes later, you brought two steaming mugs of tea into the living room, handing one to Fred before sitting down across from him.

He didn’t reach for the mug right away, instead leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His gaze was intent, but not unkind.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the question. Fred rarely veered into serious territory—he was the king of deflection, the master of keeping things light.

“I’m fine,” you said automatically.

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

You sighed, sinking back into the cushions. “What do you want me to say, Fred? That I’m tired? That I’m still trying to figure out how to keep going when it feels like everything’s fallen apart? Because I am. But what’s the point of talking about it? It doesn’t change anything.”

Fred leaned back, his expression softening. “Maybe not. But bottling it up doesn’t help either. Trust me.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away for a moment. “I hate seeing you like this. You used to light up every room you walked into, you know? Now it’s like… you’re barely there.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “I didn’t mean to make it heavy. I just… I miss you, that’s all.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a smile. “I miss you too.”

For the next hour, Fred did what he did best: distracting you. He told you ridiculous stories about the shop, about George’s questionable taste in merchandise and the chaotic customers who made running a joke shop anything but boring. He had you laughing until your sides hurt, the weight on your chest lifting just a little.

By the time he stood to leave, it was late, and you were feeling more at ease than you had in weeks.

“You should come by the shop sometime,” he said, pausing in the doorway.

“Maybe I will,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling in that way they always did. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, Fred.”

You closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a long breath. For the first time in a long while, you felt… lighter.

It wasn’t until you were cleaning up the living room that you noticed Fred’s untouched mug of tea sitting on the coffee table.

You frowned, picking it up. It was still full, the liquid cold to the touch.

“He must’ve been too busy talking to drink it,” you murmured to yourself, shaking your head. You poured the tea down the sink and put the mug in the dishwasher, before heading to bed.

&

The shop was eerily quiet as you stepped inside, the familiar jingle of the bell sounding oddly out of place in the stillness. You glanced around at the dimly lit aisles, the shelves a kaleidoscope of colors even in the low light. It was strange seeing the shop like this, so empty, so lifeless.

You had worked late again, but something about the thought of going straight home made your skin itch. You needed to be somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t the sterile white walls of St. Mungo’s.

Your feet carried you to the back office without much thought, and you paused at the slightly open door.

Fred was there, hunched over the desk, his fingers toying with a quill as he stared down at a piece of parchment.

“Fred,” you said softly, pushing the door open further.

He looked up, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Finally off work, then?”

You nodded, stepping inside and leaning against the doorframe. “Barely. Thought I’d stop by, but it looks like I missed the fun.”

“Yeah, George closed up a while ago. You’ve got terrible timing,” he teased, his tone light.

Your gaze flicked to the desk where a photo caught your eye. It was the three of you—Fred, George, and yourself—arms slung over each other, laughing like you didn’t have a care in the world. You picked it up, your fingers brushing over the glass.

“I remember this,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Good times, weren’t they?” Fred said, leaning back in his chair. “You and George couldn’t stop arguing that day. Think you were fighting over who’d get the last treacle tart.”

Your smile widened despite the ache in your chest. “He cheated, though.”

Fred snorted. “He’s a Weasley. Comes with the territory.”

Setting the photo down, you slid into the chair across from him. “Feels like it was forever ago.”

Fred’s expression softened, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to settle on his features. “It wasn’t that long ago. We’re just… different now.”

You studied him, a lump forming in your throat. He looked the same as he always had—bright eyes, a smirk that never quite left his lips—but there was something in his voice, something in the way he looked at you, that felt heavier.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Things change.”

Fred gave a small nod, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “So, how’s it really going? With the hospital, I mean.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It’s… a lot. I thought I was ready for it, but some days it feels like I’m drowning.”

“You’re not, though,” he said, his tone firm. “You’re stronger than you think.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’ve been through hell, and you’re still here. That counts for something.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the sincerity in his voice made the words stick in your throat.

“Thanks,” you said instead, the word barely above a whisper.

Fred gave you a small smile, leaning back in his chair. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. Things to do.”

“Like what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked. “You don’t get to know all my secrets.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes as you stood. “Well, don’t let me keep you.”

“Don’t work too hard,” he said as he stood, heading for the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” you said, watching as he left.

You lingered in the office for a moment before shaking your head and making your way toward the exit.

As you reached the front door, someone stepped inside.

“George?” you said, startled.

He looked at you, his expression tight and guarded. “Thought I’d locked up.”

“I—uh—yeah. I was just… stopping by,” you said vaguely, clutching your bag.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. His face was drawn, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

“You look terrible,” you said before you could stop yourself.

George gave a dry laugh. “Thanks. Just what I needed to hear.”

“Sorry,” you muttered, shifting on your feet.

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You weren’t at the —”

Before he could say what he wanted to say, the picture of the three of you slid from your hands. You hadn’t realized that you were still holding it.

The shards of glass were everywhere, you immediately went to pick them up, but George grabbed your hand before you could hurt yourself.

“I do that too, you know?”

The question caught you off guard, your chest tightening. “What do you mean?”

George shrugged, his gaze flickering toward the back office. “Feels real, you know?”

You frowned, unsure how to respond.

“Right,” George said, his tone unreadable.

An awkward silence stretched between you before he cleared his throat. “If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

As you stepped out into the night, the cool air prickling your skin, his words lingered in your mind.

You shook your head, trying to brush off the strange feeling settling in your chest. The conversation with George left you feeling unsettled.

You told yourself it was just George grieving. Everyone was grieving. That’s all it was.

&

The air outside St. Mungo’s was brisk, carrying the crisp bite of autumn. You tugged your coat tighter around yourself, grateful for the rare quiet moment on your break. The day had been chaotic—healers rushing from patient to patient, the hum of spells and the faint scent of antiseptic filling the halls. It wasn’t exactly the type of environment that allowed for deep breaths or calm thoughts.

You wandered down a quiet path near the hospital, letting the cool breeze soothe your frazzled nerves. Your eyes scanned the rows of trees, their branches shedding golden and crimson leaves onto the cobblestone.

“Mind if I join?”

The voice was unmistakable, and you whipped around to see Fred grinning at you, his hands stuffed casually into the pockets of his jacket.

“Fred!” you exclaimed, relief washing over you like a balm. “What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d check in,” he said, falling into step beside you. “You’re impossible to track down these days, you know that?”

“I’ve been busy,” you said with a shrug. “Work’s been… a lot.”

“Still haven’t figured out how to clone yourself yet, then?” he teased, bumping your shoulder lightly with his own.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Not quite. Maybe I’ll work on that next.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the leaves crunching underfoot. Fred was always like this, effortlessly pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts, making the world feel lighter somehow.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what do you do to unwind after a day of saving lives?”

“Sleep, mostly,” you admitted. “If I’m lucky, maybe eat something that doesn’t taste like parchment.”

Fred gave a mock gasp. “Blasphemy! This is why I should’ve brought you something from the shop. Maybe a bag of Canary Creams to keep things interesting.”

You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. “Pretty sure my coworkers would kill me if I turned anyone into a bird on hospital grounds.”

“Sounds like they could use a laugh,” Fred said, smirking. “You’re too serious these days.”

You looked at him, the warmth of his presence easing the tension that had been knotting your chest all day. “Maybe. It’s hard not to be, though. Things… aren’t how they used to be.”

Fred’s expression softened, and for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes dimmed. “No, they’re not. But that doesn’t mean you’ve lost who you are. You’re still you, even if it feels different now.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Fred gave you a crooked smile. “Anyway, I should get going. Don’t want to keep you from your heroics.”

“Right,” you said, watching as he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing down the path.

When you returned to the hospital, you spotted Elena near the staff break room. She was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, and her expression almost concerned when she saw you.

“Hey,” she said. “You alright? You looked… I don’t know, distracted earlier.”

“Distracted?” you echoed, frowning.

“Yeah,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “You seemed… off. Just wanted to say, if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

Her words gave you pause, confusion prickling at the back of your mind. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, managing a small smile.

“Of course,” Elena said, her tone warm but cautious. “Just remember, you’re not alone, okay?”

You nodded, though her words lingered uneasily in your mind as you made your way back to your duties.

Why did Elena think something was wrong?

You pushed the thought away, chalking it up to exhaustion. But as you dove back into your work, you couldn’t shake the strange feeling in your chest—the faint but growing sense that something wasn’t quite right.

&

Your flat was dimly lit, the faint glow of a single lamp casting soft shadows across the walls. You had collapsed onto the sofa after a long day, still wearing your healer robes, too tired to change. The weight of exhaustion pressed heavily against your chest, but your mind refused to quiet.

A knock at the door startled you, your heart leaping in surprise. It was late—too late for visitors—but you dragged yourself up to answer it.

When you opened the door, Fred stood there, leaning casually against the frame with a lopsided grin.

“Hope I’m not interrupting your riveting evening plans,” he said, his voice light but warm.

“Fred,” you said, your fatigue melting into a mix of relief and surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to check on you,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. He glanced around your flat, his eyes landing on the cluttered coffee table and the half-empty mug of tea. “Looks like I got here just in time. You’re living the dream, aren’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, shutting the door behind him. “Not all of us get to play with fireworks and sweets all day.”

Fred laughed, a sound that filled the room and wrapped around you like a blanket. He plopped down onto the armchair across from you, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

“You look awful,” he said cheerfully.

“Thanks,” you muttered, sinking back onto the sofa.

There was a comfortable silence between you for a moment, the kind you only shared with someone who had known you forever. You tilted your head to look at him, the familiar lines of his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled—it was all so painfully Fred.

“It’s been a while,” you said softly. “Since we sat like this.”

“Yeah,” Fred said, his voice quieter now. “Feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, your chest tightening. “Do you ever think about it? About how everyone just assumed we were—”

“A couple?” Fred interrupted, smirking. “All the time. George used to place bets on when we’d finally ‘admit it.’”

You laughed, though it felt hollow. “They weren’t wrong, though, were they? We were close.”

Fred’s expression softened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. “We were. Still are.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. The question had been buried deep in your mind for years, but now it rose to the surface, demanding to be spoken. “Fred… why didn’t it ever happen? Why didn’t we ever—?”

He looked at you then, his gaze steady but distant, as if he were searching for the right words. “You know,” he said after a moment, his voice low, “sometimes you don’t get closure. Sometimes things just… are.”

The answer left you reeling, the weight of it settling heavily in your chest.

Fred stood abruptly, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Anyway, I should go. You need sleep, and I need to—” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward the door.

“Right,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As he left, the silence in your flat felt deafening. You stared at the spot where he had been sitting, your thoughts a chaotic tangle of emotions.

Fred’s words echoed in your mind, and for the first time, you wondered if you were chasing something that could never truly be found.

&

The bell above the door of the tea shop jingled softly as you stepped inside. The warm scent of cinnamon and chamomile washed over you, momentarily easing the tension that had weighed heavily on your shoulders since the previous night. It was your first day off in weeks, and after losing a patient yesterday, you had needed this—a quiet space to think, or perhaps, to not think at all.

Your eyes scanned the room, landing on Fred sitting by the window, a steaming cup in front of him. His head was tilted slightly, gazing out at the bustling street outside.

You hesitated for a moment before walking over to him. His face lit up when he noticed you, and he gestured to the empty seat across from him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Fred,” you said, sliding into the seat. “You’ve got a habit of turning up exactly when I need someone to talk to.”

“Call it a gift,” he said, shrugging. “What’s got you looking like you just ran headfirst into a Hippogriff?”

You sighed, wrapping your hands around the warm ceramic of your cup after ordering a simple black tea. “Rough day yesterday. Lost someone.”

Fred’s teasing expression softened immediately. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gentler now.

You shrugged, your throat tightening. “It happens. Doesn’t make it easier, though.”

Fred leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You ever think about doing something else? Something less… heavy?”

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But it’s not that simple, is it? I like helping people.”

“And who’s helping you?” he asked, his tone pointed but kind.

You looked away, his words cutting deeper than you cared to admit. “I’m fine,” you said quietly. “Really.”

Fred didn’t press further, instead leaning back in his chair and letting the conversation shift to lighter topics. He told you a ridiculous story about George’s latest experiment at the shop, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic pauses. You laughed in spite of yourself, grateful for the distraction.

The two of you sat there for what felt like hours, reminiscing about old times and trading jokes. For a moment, it felt like the world outside the tea shop didn’t exist.

Eventually, Fred glanced at the clock on the wall and stood up. “I should get going,” he said, his tone reluctant. “George will have my head if I’m late again.”

You nodded, watching as he turned toward the door. “Fred,” you called after him.

He paused, looking over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” you said simply.

His smile was soft, genuine. “Anytime.”

And then he was gone, leaving the air around you feeling oddly still.

You stayed a few minutes longer, finishing your tea in silence. When you finally stood to leave, you noticed something strange—people were staring at you.

Their gazes weren’t hostile, but curious, as if you’d done something out of the ordinary. You met a few of their eyes, but no one said anything. A couple seated near the door exchanged whispers, their eyes flicking toward your table.

Frowning, you pulled your cloak tighter around yourself and stepped out into the chilly air. The feeling of being watched clung to you as you made your way home, an unease settling in your chest.

When you reached your flat, you locked the door behind you and leaned against it, trying to shake the strange sensation.

“Just tired,” you muttered to yourself. “That’s all it is.”

But the memory of their stares lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

&

It was late when you heard the knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it. But when the knock came again, heavier this time, you reluctantly got up and opened the door.

George stood there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat, his face pale and drawn.

“George,” you said, blinking at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. “Mum’s been asking about you,” he said, his voice careful. “She says she hasn’t seen you in ages.”

You frowned, closing the door behind him. “I’ve been�� busy.”

“You’re always busy,” he said, looking around your flat as though trying to make sense of the chaos. His gaze lingered on a pile of unopened letters on the table, a half-empty cup of tea on the counter. “You’ve been avoiding us.”

“That’s not true,” you said defensively.

“Isn’t it?” he said, raising an eyebrow. He looked at you closely, his sharp eyes narrowing. “You’re not okay, are you?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. George had always been perceptive, too perceptive, and you suddenly felt stripped bare under his scrutiny.

“I’m fine,” you said quietly, looking away.

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “we’re all trying to figure out how to move forward. It’s hard, isn’t it? Finding a way to keep going without—”

He stopped himself abruptly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Without what?” you asked, your chest tightening.

George shook his head. “Never mind,” he muttered. “Forget I said anything.”

You frowned, confused and slightly unnerved by the way he was looking at you, like he was trying to tell you something without actually saying it.

“Come with me,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“Just… come with me,” he repeated, already heading toward the door.

“George, it’s late—”

“I know,” he said, turning to face you. “But this is important. Please.”

Something in his tone made you hesitate. Reluctantly, you grabbed your coat and followed him out into the chilly night.

He didn’t say much as you walked, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold. You tried to make sense of his sudden appearance, the strange tension in his voice, but the silence between you felt too fragile to break.

Finally, he led you to a quiet, secluded area, the air around you growing heavier with each step. You glanced around, the faint outlines of headstones barely visible in the moonlight.

“George,” you said, your voice catching. “What is this?”

He stopped in front of a particular spot, his back to you. For a long moment, he didn’t move, his shoulders rising and falling with a deep, shaky breath.

When he finally turned to face you, his expression was unreadable. “I just thought… maybe this would help,” he said quietly.

You didn’t understand what he meant, not fully, but something in his eyes—something raw and achingly familiar—made your chest tighten.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

George didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stepped closer and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you. The unexpected gesture caught you off guard, and for a moment, you froze.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly. “It’s okay to miss him.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt the air leave your lungs in a sharp gasp.

You clung to him, your mind reeling, the weight of his words pressing down on you.

For a moment, it felt like something inside you was unraveling, pieces of a puzzle you hadn’t realized you were trying to solve falling into place.

But the full picture remained just out of reach, the truth lingering at the edges of your mind like a shadow.

George pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders. “You don’t have to go through this alone,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes.

You nodded silently, unable to find the words to respond.

&

George left after a while, a long time that was filled with silence. But you couldn’t go yet, you were still standing in the middle of the graveyard.

That’s when Fred walked up next to you, looking down at the grave in front of you.

“You’re not real,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Fred tilted his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. “No,” he said simply, “I’m not.”

The weight of those words hit you like a tidal wave.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched thin, taut with everything you hadn’t said and everything you now understood.

“Why?” you finally asked, your voice barely audible.

Fred’s gaze softened, but there was something unshakably sad in his eyes. “You needed me,” he said. “So I was here.”

You swallowed hard, your hands shaking. “But you’re gone,” you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

“I am,” he said, his voice steady but quiet.

The world felt impossibly still, the air heavy with unspoken grief.

“I don’t—” you started, your voice cracking. “I don’t know how to do this, Fred. I don’t know how to let you go.”

Fred turned to you. “You don’t have to,” he said gently. “Not really. I’m always going to be here, just not like this.”

Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. “It’s not fair,” you whispered. “You were supposed to have so much more time. We were supposed to have more time.”

Fred’s smile wavered, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his façade. “Life’s not fair,” he said, his voice tinged with a bitterness you rarely heard from him. “But you know that already, don’t you?”

You nodded, the tears spilling over now. “I love you, Fred,” you said, your voice breaking. “I loved you, and I never even told you. I never got the chance to—”

“You didn’t have to tell me,” Fred interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “I knew.”

You looked up at him, your breath catching. “How?”

He smiled, a bittersweet curve of his lips. “You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me? Or how you always laughed at my terrible jokes, even when no one else did? Or how you always saved me a seat, even when it meant you had to stand?”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your tears.

“I knew,” he said again, his tone softer now. “And you know, deep down, that I loved you too.”

Your chest ached, the pain so sharp and overwhelming that it felt like you might break under the weight of it. “I just wanted more time,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Another chance.”

Fred’s expression grew serious, his gaze locking with yours. “I know you do,” he said quietly. “But if you had it, would it ever be enough?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat.

Fred leaned back, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “You would always want more,” he said, his voice steady but filled with a quiet sorrow. “Because that’s how it is with love. It’s never enough time. Not really.”

Your hands trembled as you struggled to process his words.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” you said, your voice breaking again.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his voice impossibly gentle. “I’ll always be a part of you. I’ll always be in your memories, in the things that make you laugh, in the things that remind you of me.”

Tears streamed down your face, your chest heaving with the force of your sobs. “But it’s not the same,” you choked out. “It’s not the same as having you here.”

Fred’s expression softened, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache even more. “I know,” he said. “But you have to keep living, love. You have to keep going, even if it hurts.”

You looked at him, your vision blurred with tears. You reached out your hand, close enough to touch his face, but you didn’t, too scared of what might happen if you tried.

Fred’s smile was soft, tinged with sadness. “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to.”

You clenched your fists, the ache in your chest almost unbearable.

“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” you whispered.

Fred looked down at you, his gaze filled with a love that you could feel in every fiber of your being.

“You don’t have to say it,” he said. “Just… let me go.”

You sobbed, the sound raw and broken, as you watched him turn around.

“Fred,” you called, your voice cracking.

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” you said, the words tumbling out of you like a confession, like a plea.

Fred smiled, his eyes glistening. “I know,” he said. “I love you too.”

And then he was gone.

You turned around again, staring yet again at the grave in front of you.

You stood there for a long time, the silence deafening. Until you took a step forward, your fingers tracing the engraved letters.

Fred Gideon Weasley

1st April 1978 - 2nd May 1998

[scarletttries]

Write A Kiss Request: Roronoa Zoro (One Piece) x Reader ...a kiss out of habit

(prompt list here) & 2025 Request List - requests open

...a kiss for Roronoa Zoro out of habit

You and Zoro had never meant to keep this a secret. It wasn't something you were trying to hide, or to stop the crew from ever knowing. You were both just very private people, and always the last two left at the end of the night as the rest crew all went their separate ways.

You, as much as anyone, could appreciate Zoro's desire to stay in whatever bar you were docked beside until the place was closed and the owner had to politely ask you to leave through muffled yawns. You loved the Going Merry, and all the people that lived aboard, but when you spent so much time at sea you grew to savour every minute spent on dry land in a change of scenery with someone other than Sanji fetching you whatever the local drink of the region was. You knew Zoro did too, the slight variety that a change of scenery provided gave him more joy than he would admit to anyone but you.

So you formed a little routine. The two of you would stay out until all the local places had closed, and then you'd walk the long way back to the ship, exchanging stories and admiring whatever little details you could find to ground yourselves in each quaint town. You couldn't remember exactly which island had the intricately cobbled streets that almost knocked you off your feet, but after that you and Zoro never left a bar without your hand safely enclosed in his. You were sure the night breeze was comfortingly warm the first time you noticed just how many glances Zoro threw your way as you walked, gaze flickering between your entangled hands and your moonlit lips. And you would never forget the first time that instead of the long goodbye outside your cabin door that you had grown accustomed to, he had just leant forward and placed his lips on yours. He only kissed you for a split second before he withdrew, testing the waters neither of you could bring yourselves to acknowledge, relieved when you plunged back in and dragged his lips back onto yours, fingers combing through his short spiked hair.

Without ever putting a name to your bond, you two fell into an effortless routine of those sweet good night embraces while the rest of your crew slept. It became such a fundamental part of your life that in the nights you spent at sea Zoro would still find his way to your door when the sky grew dark, neither of you able to pass a restful night without that shared moment of desperate need. His strong hands firmly holding onto you as if you could drift away, his touch-starved soul aching for you in every moment you spent apart. Zoro prayed every night as he finally tasted your loving kiss that the sensation would fill his dreams, and give him strength enough to make it to another sunset before he could kiss you again.

***

After a particularly tireless battle one evening, the crew had gathered on the deck of the Going Merry to toast to the island they had just visited with a case of wine gifted by some very grateful locals. It had been too long since the whole crew had passed a night of merriment together, Luffy and Usopp dramatically retelling the best moments of their adventures while Nami laughed on and Sanji kept everyone's glasses topped up to the brim. You and Zoro settled side by side on the makeshift benches Luffy had quickly hobbled together for the occasion, exchanging warm smiles every time your heroics of the day were recalled by the two quarreling captains. It wasn't long until you felt the flush of wine in your cheeks, and a heaviness growing in your eyelids that was getting harder to fight back.

"You look as exhausted as I am!" Nami laughed out through a yawn, Luffy bursting into laughter as you immediately followed with a yawn of your own. Your friend and navigator rose to her feet, circling to stand behind you and resting one hand on your shoulder as she said more quietly, "I think it's time we both headed to bed."

You nodded at her suggestion, suddenly feeling the ache of exhaustion spreading through your bones now that it had been pointed out.

"Great party crew! But now I must say good night." You declared dramatically, stifling another yawn that set Nami off again. Before you rose to your feet you turned to face the swordsman nestled beside you, who quickly leant forward to capture your lips in a soft and sweet good night kiss. It was just a momentary embrace, a habit that had grown necessary to both of your nights, and with that you stood up and followed Nami towards the cabins. A moment of still hung over the night as the two of you stepped through the first door separating you from the others just as Sanji and Usopp cried out in unison,

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"

"Nami, did I just kiss Zoro in front of everyone?" You asked without daring to glance her way.

"Yup!" She chirped back without an ounce of shock in her voice, a far cry to the chorus of voices calling out behind you.

"Why aren't you surprised, Nami?"

"Because I've walked past you two kissing half a dozen times. Sometimes I like to make tea at night when Sanji's not around to pester me, and you two have absolutely no sense of your surroundings whenever you're together." She shrugged nonchalantly, unlocking the door across from yours.

"I'd say we won't make a habit of it.." You started your sentiment alone before Nami joined, "but it's too late for that."

If you enjoyed this please send in my Roronoa Zoro requests and check out my one piece masterlist!

[dinogoofymutated]

Okay, since requests are open, I wanted to ask for something, especially after seeing that you are comfortable with most male characters.

I present:

Scott Summers x fem!reader who's just a little too rebelious and annoying for his taste but he still can't help but love her? Like, enemies to lovers kind of style?

If you want to do a oneshot or headcanons is up to you, I'm just starving for Scott content.

Don't know, if you wanna do is, especially since he's not everyone's cup of tea, but I thought "hey, give it a try, maybe she wants to try someting different" so here I go

Anyway, love your work, you#re amazing <3

Cyclops/GN!Reader I've had this prompt saved in my drafts for SO LONG. Basically since the moment it came in!! I was so happy you sent this in bc i had been thinking about writing for Scott, but then I couldn't think of a good enough way to carry this out so I waited on it for a good bit until I had it down to a science!! Hope you enjoy!! Man, I started writing this and then realised I had to make a banner for him too 😭 I did this to myself tho Most of the characters I write for are written as combinations from different x-men media, but I'm still figuring out how I want to characterise Scott since he's a new character for me. Just wanted to put this out there in case I change how I write for him in future fics. (also, let me know how you feel about him in this one! Tell me if yall think I should tweak his attitude a bit :) ) Edit from the future: I started this draft so long ago and damn did it turn out long. TWs: Idk at the moment, will add if I think of any! Reader has a specific power that is kinda vague at first. I've written them out at the very bottom BUT if u read u will spoil the surprise of the fic so fair warning

Scott does not like you. At least, not anymore.

You've known each other for a long time, both coming to Xavier's school within weeks of each other. You used to be friends- or at least friendly. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves and your powers, a gap began to form, and then continued to grow once both of you became members of the x-men.

It's not like he didn't notice your tendency for rebellious behavior before, but on the field? the two of you clashed more than ever. He's doing his best out here, and the last thing he needs as a leader is both you and Logan going out of your way to put yourselves in dangerous situations because you think you know better.

And the moment you get back to the mansion? You clash all over again- and over the dumbest things. You practically avoid him all of the time, refuse to spar with him unless you're forced, will scoot away from him if he has to sit next to you on game nights. It's like the very thought of brushing against him is enough to get under your skin.

The moment the blackbird lands, you should have known what to expect. But you're in such a good mood, with the mission having gone well despite all odds. Sure, you didn't exactly follow Cyclops' foolproof plan, but when did you ever?

Scott is standing at the end of the ramp when the doors open, watching with a rather sour look on his face as you laugh with Jubilee, the others trailing shortly behind. He crosses his arms, and you barely stop short of him, acting like you had never seen him in the first place as you sigh, nodding at the others to go ahead before finally turning to him and crossing your own arms.

"Go ahead. Say your piece." You say. It only stokes the irritation in him, and he scowls.

"You can't go one, single mission and actually listen to what I say, can you?" He snaps. You roll your eyes, knowing that if he had it his way, you'd never have gone on the mission at all. Still, you stand defiantly, unwilling to back down.

"Look, you weren't even there, you can't expect me to-"

"It would be different if I was there, but I wasn't." Scott interrupts you, and the aggravation it lights in you is practically all-consuming. You can't hold back your scowl. "You were the only senior member of the team on that plane, do you understand how detrimental it could have been if you had gotten hurt, or worse?!" Oh, what a load of horseshit. It's alway the boy scout schtick with him- I'm the leader, do what I say, If I was there none of this would have happened- what an asshole! Hell, in the second half you might have actually thought he was concerned for you and the team, but you knew better.

"Don't act like you actually give a damn, Summers." You snap. "Everyone is fine, no one got hurt, I don't see your problem." You're done with this. You're tired, sweaty, exhausted, and the last thing you want to be doing right now is talking with him. You knock shoulders with him as you brush past, but he reaches out and grabs you by the arm. You feel a mix of strong emotions- anger, concern, frustration- and thoughts swim in your head, before snatching your arm away from him like you'd been burned. He pauses for a second as you whip around and look at him, a rage in your eyes. He still looks at you with that stupid, stubborn look on his face.

"I get that you think I'm just some stuck-up asshole, but there's a reason I get angry when you do something reckless." His voice has lost the smallest a bit of fire. You scoff at him immediately, before turning away to storm out.

"Eat shit."

So no. things weren't exactly cool between you two.

It's not like you weren't friends at some point though, back when you were kids. You didn't know what happened to cause this rift, but he only really thought of you as some reckless idiot as of late, and you didn't care to learn anything else about what was going on in his brain.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean you could avoid him forever. Not when the both of you are on a team.

You only realise how much pain you're in when the blackbird's autopilot clicks on. Your suit was scuffed and worn in some areas, starting to burn at the edges of your sleeves as the protective coating started to wear away. You noticed it in the midst of battle, trying to focus on manipulating debri to a colder temperature rather than a hot one, but sometimes you can't afford to be picky in fights. Your suit may have been temperature resistant, but you were temperature invulnerable. Besides, heat did the most damage anyway.

You frown a bit at the sight of your burnt sleeves. Normally, you'd be worried that Hank would be mad at having to make a new suit again, but if anything you were sure he'd be grateful for the challenge of improving it. Scott was really the only one who would scold you for it, always coming back to the same arguments of being too reckless, ect, ect... and speaking of Scott, he was being awfully quiet right now.

The cockpit is empty exempt for the two of you, being the only two assigned to the mission. Scott is sat in the pilot's chair, and you can't really see much of him besides the top of his head. He's silent, and it makes you worried.

When you stand and walk. over to him, his face looks pained. You're sure his eyes are closed under his signature visor, his head leaning back limply in the chair, hair tussled. You furrow your eyebrows. You knew he'd be tired, but he's not usually this burned out.

"Scott? You alright?" You ask. he only hums in response. It's then when you realise what's wrong.

"Migraine?" You ask, and he hums in the affirmative. You wince at the thought. You knew he got migraines often, especially when using his mutation more than usual, and having migraines yourself, you knew he was hurting. You take a look at where the emergency aid box usually is, knowing it had painkillers, but the space is empty, and you sigh to yourself when you remember you used it on a local- Scott agreeing with you for once when you wanted to leave it with them for any more emergencies. You look back at Scott, and think for a moment more.

Scott jumps when you place a cold hand on his forehead, having settled your weight on the back of the chair behind him. It sparks a feeling of surprise.

"What are you doing?" Scott asks, and instead of his usual accusatory tone, he just sounds tired.

"Don't be a baby." You respond, chilling both hands and combing through his hair gently. Scott is confused as all hell. Why were you doing this? You go out of your way to avoid him at any cost, and then... this? What even was this?

But... he'd be lying if it didn't feel nice. Scott begins to relax underneath you as you continue to comb through his scalp, pressing gentle touches to his forehead as you do so. It's... it feels good.

"My mom used to do this when I was little." You say softly, after a long moment of silence. "Whenever I had a migraine, she'd run her hands under cold water for a long time, lay my head in her lap, and run her hands through my hair. The cold usually helped." Scott's shoulder's are sagging now, and he sighs every once in a while. Although he doesn't say anything, you don't need to ask. There's a question beginning to brim, but you answer it before he can even speak- saving him the effort of talking in the midst of his pain.

"...And it just felt nice to feel her play with my hair, I guess. 'figured it might help you, too."

You try not to dwell on whatever thoughts begin to swirl after that.

It's hard to tell when things shift after that. Even harder for Scott to understand why.

Eventually you go from avoiding him at any given chance, stiff and petty with your actions, to casual. Not quite friendly, but almost.

"And... Right hand red!" Jubilee calls from the couch, having entirely too much fun for someone who isn't even playing this game. Everyone who's already lost has dispersed, either playing a different game or having good conversation. The game of twister had started with four? Maybe five of you? But at the moment, it was just down to you and Scott. -The two of you being way too competitive to let the other win. At the moment, both of you were in a bit of a strange position, with Scott managing to crawl over you at some point. Aside from that, the game had been going on for uncomfortably long- long enough for the pizza to get here.

The doorbell rings and it's pretty instantaneous when people start to flock to the kitchen for the feast, Jubilee included. There's a flicker of panic in both of you as she quickly leaves.

"Hey!-"

"Jubilee! Wait!"

"You'll be fine, you big babies!" She calls out, giggling in her pursuit of the cheesy goodness. That just leaves you and Scott on the matt, pressed together in some places and a but uncomfortable, but awkwardly? Still competeting.

"God, that pizza smells good." Scott groans from above you, the smell of food becoming more and more tempting. You think about it, for a half a second maybe, but that competitive little devil on your shoulder gets to you before your stomach can.

"You know what? why don't you go ahead and grab a piece!" You say, causing Scott to cock an eyebrow at you.

"What, and let you win? Not a chance." He huffs. You shrug best you can, it was worth a shot! Neither of you were going to budge any time soon, determined not to let the other win. But the longer you stayed pressed together...

It's not like you hadn't noticed how handsome Scott was. Hell, who wouldn't? Even Logan isn't immune to his good looks, but obviously you weren't going to be... wierd, about it. You're just playing a game, right? But the sight of him above you, slightly flushed, shifting every once in a while while keeping his balance? It was... tempting.

It doesn't take long for other thoughts to begin swimming around, worming their way into your mind. The two of you in various states of undress... gasping, gripping onto one another... marks on his neck, your lips swollen and stained by the lipstick your wearing tonight.

Each and every thought leaves you more flustered than before, slipping on the plastic mat and accidentally knocking into one of Scott's weight bearing arms and sending the two of you colliding into the floor. You hear Scott let out a noise of pain and you're not down there for long before you shove him off of you, face burning as you grumble about his win. You stalk off without much fanfare, leaving Scott a bit befuddled.

"What was that all about?"

But regardless of how aggravated you made eachother sometimes, everyone has their breaking point...

You're surprised when Scott kisses you in the hall some weeks later, less than a second after a heated spat started to take a bit of a turn, but to be honest? You were into it.

His lips are soft, if a little chapped, heated kisses full of force and urgency before they soften just a little. You kiss him back in a similar manner his hands falling to your waist as you grab him by the collar and pull him even closer. You're quick to start moving the two of you backwards fumbling for a closet door you could have sworn was right... there.

As soon as the door swings open, you pull him inside, pushing him against the wall once it closes again and cupping the back of his neck as you pull him into another kiss. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth shoots through you as you do, and you almost giggle as his thoughts start to flood with more and more tempting situations for the two of you to be in.

After each and every dirty thought he has, you start to wonder if he even remembered your touch telepathy after having known you for so long- but hell, even if he didn't, you weren't complaining.

If u made it this far, I wanna give u details about the Reader's powers some more!! Specifically, the powers are temperature manipulation/temperature invulnerability/touch telepathy! They get a bit complicated bc reader can't light shit on fire or make ice out of the air, but they can melt shit and freeze existing water though! As long as reader touches it in some way! Due to this they're invulnerable to heat/cold for obvious reasons. Touch telepathy was added bc i love mutations with unnecessary layers (Emma frost) and... u really think I was gonna let scott get away without banging another telepath? wrONG

[tgmsunmontue]

A picture is worth 1000 words - 6/?

Hangster post-TGM events, Jake and Bradley becoming friends on Instagram through increasingly competitive thirst traps.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

PART SIX

              “Fuck me…” Jake says under his breath.

              “Jake! Language!”

              “Sorry. Sorry. You know, that was a bad word…” Jake says to his niece and nephew, who both nod solemnly.

              “We know. Mom says it all the time.”

              Jake snorts, looks to Kara and she’s looking a combination of resigned and betrayed, and he holds back a laugh but she can obviously tell and she pokes her tongue out at him and he raises an eyebrow, looks at her kids tellingly.

              “What’s got you all worked up anyway?”

              “Uh. Nothing,” Jake says, quickly locking his phone and sliding it into his pocket. He’s changed the pin and added the fingerprint option, because he doesn’t trust her at all. But instead of grabbing for his phone she’s pulling her own out and when he cranes his neck he can see her looking at exactly the thing that had him swearing.

              “Gosh. He scrubs up well doesn’t he?”

              “Since when are you friends with Rooster on Instagram?” Jake asks, because he only became friends with him on Instagram and he saved his fucking life.

              “Since I sent him a friend request. I sent a few friend requests actually…”

              “Oh no…” Jake starts, remembering just in time to hold back all the curse words on the tip of his tongue. “Why?”

              “Entertainment mostly. And I have some questions which I know you won’t answer…” Kara says, and she’s tapping away at her phone and Jake wants to know what she’s doing and who she’s doing it with. His money is on Phoenix

              “Uh… okay. What… hmm,” Jake lets his thoughts trail off and picks his phone back up and opens up the photo again, takes in the cut of the suit and line of Bradshaw’s legs. He’s got nice legs. Then he forces himself to read the text, drag his eyes away from the picture. For a brief moment he thinks Rooster went and got married before he reads the best man duties hashtag, and then there’s a proof of life hashtag, a shoutout to Jake’s comment on the last post the Jake commented on.

              Then he gets to Kara’s comment, inviting Rooster to come and use their pool to cool down and he rolls his eyes. It's wasted because she doesn’t see him do it, still engrossed with whatever she’s doing, of which he’s now incredibly suspicious about. He wants to comment, but he’s not sure what to say. Bradshaw somehow looks better in a suit than shirtless. He wears the suit confidently and Jake wants to peel it off him. Won’t say that of course, even if he’s thinking it. But it does give him an idea, and he taps out his comment with a grin.

[mildy-vibing]

@calamaroo I know you know who this is, our favorite baby boy

NEW/OLD OCTO-OC, ARTHUR GRIZZLY

I've introduced him a long time ago but now he has official art and refs! Though he originally started out being modeled off numerous characters, he's grown beyond that into his own thing. Calamaroo certainly knows as they're my co-creator for him (60/40 custody).

So, who is he?

Early Life

Arthur's early life mainly follows that of all grizzlies. Staying with your mother and following her every move so that one day you may survive on your own. Nothing truly great or memorable came from this time, say for Arthur meeting a certain polar bear cub.

Early on in his cub years, Arthur was constantly traveling up and down the Alaskan wilderness with his mother, sometimes going too far south and sometimes too far north. On one occasion, where they went too far north, Arthur encountered a polar scout. Though it wasn't common for both solitary species to be friends, cubs do as cubs do and became best friends over the course of Arthur's stay.

Arthur was the trouble maker and "bad influence" of the duo, always finding himself knee deep in trouble. Barnacles was always the one to get him out of trouble. But still, they did everything together. There was many play dates, days exploring the frozen coast line, and days spent sitting around fishing or playing in the sea.

Teen Years / Early Adulthood

Arthur stayed up north longer than one would expect. Food was just enough for his mother to settle there, so the friendship laster for years more.

Barnacles joined the scouts, Arthur got better and better at surviving alone, the years went on. During this time, their bond peaked. However, it all came crashing down when Barnacles eventually left for better job opportunities down south, leaving Arthur behind. They hoped to see each other again soon, though that wasn't gonna happen for a long while.

In the meantime, Arthur spent his early adulthood surviving on his own (mother kicked him out as soon as she could). He spent his days traveling and wandering, eventually settling upon the American Northwest as his home. Along the way, he found new company in the form of Winona, a wild mustang. Next to Barnacles, Winona is the closest friend he has.

Later Years / Octoagent Era

When Barnacles managed to track him down and find him, both were beyond overjoyed at seeing the other alive. Barnacles was glad to see one of his oldest friends still alive, while Arthur was glad to see his at all. Following this, the friendship rekindled, and they went on like there wasn't a separation at all.

To avoid Arthur disappearing into the wild again, Barnacles strongly "nudged" for him to join the octoagents. It took some time, but Arthur eventually did, being hired on as an "expert explorer." It was mainly an excuse to keep in touch, but somehow, Arthur actually was good at his "job" as he managed to discover and catalog many environments, animal populations, and changes relating to Northwestern American ecosystems So, Arthur's pretty good at something. That and also serving as a good guide for emergencies in places where not even gups can reach.

As for Barnacles, he's just happy to go on any mission with his old "friend", no matter how mundane it is.

Smaller Bits

- Arthur is a certified horse girl, as he loves his horse more than he loves most things.

- There is some beef between him and Kwazii, mainly starting as arguments of "who is actually the captain's best friend" which usually extends to personal blows due to contrasting personalities. Barnacles can not keep these two together for long.

- He is more of a nomadic type, chosing to live with nothing but a tent and some supplies than in a proper den or home. Makes it kinda hard to have company over.

- Despite being in a job that requires social interaction, he isn't the most social of people.

- Winona is too smart to be a normal non sapient horse, and no one really believes Arthur when he says they've had many "conversations" together. Most believe he's off his rockers already, but Barnacles believes him (only a little).

[ravenwind-75]

The boy who became Indigo

Word count: about 1468 idk

Characters: Sebastian Sallow

Warnings: Angst

a/n: No beta (wrote late at night) and unedited. You can thank all the tiktok edits of Sebastian to this song lately. And @heylorrain who introduced me to this song.

tagging @butternutt613 who wanted to see this.

—————————————

There used to be a boy who shone so brightly. A boy full of curiosity and joy. Laughing and frolicking with his sister on summer days, his best friend with a beaming grin beside him. Days at school spent pulling elaborate pranks, studying together long into the night. All Sebastian wanted to do was live, to live as fully as he could. To learn, explore, to see the world in its fullest. Sebastian had dark days, but that was before magic came into his life. He was too young to help his parents, too young to learn something that could have saved them. His uncle was old. He only knew the old ways. Sebastian was sure that there was something that he missed. His parents had always told him that books held the answers. And his uncle didn’t read.

When magic came into his life the world opened up so much more to him. He could create things at the flick of his fingertips. He could do the impossible. There were endless possibilities and he wanted to do them all. He loved the thrill that came with dueling, with controlling an element as powerful as fire with a thrilling whoosh of a simple piece of wood infused with magic. Magic that came from inside of him. His mother had called him her golden boy. And the magic he felt inside him, the magic others saw, was just as warm. Ominis had told him that one time.

“You’re like the sun, Sebastian. You’re warm and gentle, but fiery and explosive at times. But it compliments you. It fits you. You just have this essence, that’s pure, positive, and dependable. Bright. And you’re valuable to me, my most prized, only friendship. You have a heart of gold.”

Sebastian had ruffled his hair, and laughed it off, not knowing what to do with the praise. “You’re one to talk Mr. Golden hair himself. You’re more perfect than me. My uncle seems to think so.”

“You’re blinding, that's why. If I was any metal I’d be silver. Cold, pure, and reflective. Of you.”

~~

The first scratch, the first flaw to cut into that heart of gold was a large one. A long big chunk out of the middle. The piece that belonged to his sister. When she was cursed so was he, each scream scraping along that heart of gold and chipping away. But even flawed gold can shine. It can shine in a flashing grin when it sees something brighter than itself. Something that sparkles with brilliance. The girl who knocked him down.

Sebastian was always there for her. First to jump in to take her to Hogsmeade, fight beside her in crossed wands, carry her books between classes, and help her find a lost book.

Ominis noticed that Sebastian shone again for her.

The gold had been fading away as he pined for his sister, little impurities sneaking in and there, impacting his quality of life as he spent many nights poring over magic of all types, selling himself for answers, filling the holes with everything else.

As the sun shone brighter again, it cast rainbows through the diamond, which reflected on the silver. All was well...

Yes, they ignored how the laser-like curse cut through Sebastian with the guilt he felt. How when the relic made one fade it made the other who reflected fade too. And how when the diamond dimmed in the shadows, she never lost her clarity of it all. Of what he was becoming.

Oh, the golden-hearted boy- how he faded. He was barely gold anymore. He was imperfect and flawed. He lacked depth and was cold and detached. He was prone to fully breaking. He was a purple gold now, fragile, hard, and brittle. Subject to crack at sudden impact.

~~

Sebastian’s heart was fracturing, the cracks spreading wide enough to slowly change him. Growing larger every day. Sebastian had been cold for a while now- cold with the guilt, the absence of his sister's once radiant presence.

The boy who once lived fully, loved fiercely, shining like the sun now looked at the world through a dull reflective sheen like aluminum. A distorted image of himself and others. His magic, once pure and warm, felt as hollow as his dark eyes. The heart of gold was becoming something- it had become something less. Less brilliant, less luminous, a mere shadow of itself-himself.

When he was alone he felt it the most. That all that was left of him was a ghost, his former self gasping for air as it faded every day, away forever. Each piece fell away as he cracked. Mostly it was his uncle. The man who had never believed in him, never even his childhood dreams. The man who told him to give up on saving all he had left of his family. He never saw past the old traditions, he was convinced it was futile. “It’s impossible”! He always said.

Sebastian even when he was shining wasn’t good enough. Always inadequate. Every time he looked at him with disdain, dismissed him, and crushed his hopes in front of Sebastian’s eyes, the cracks got deeper. The pressure built. The weight of his failure, his guilt, the fear of losing Anne - became unbearable.

His diamond girl, her sharp true words cut through him the most, cutting deep into his melancholy purple-gold soul. Even pure gold can be cut by one. And he was even more fragile than that.

The breaking point came- the final snap.

When his uncle stood before him, lecturing him about dark magic and threatening his diamond girl. When he snatched all Sebastian had poured himself into out of his hand and destroyed his hopes once and for all. Taking the hope of being with Anne again away forever.

At last the cracks split through.

The words echoed in his mind, “You are not enough."

In a flash, in a flare of hot rage and despair, he uttered the words summoned from the darkest depths of his soul. A curse he had never dared use. One he didn’t even know would work but the hatred, the suppressed emotions all exploded from him in a violent surge of green crackling energy.

He watched with horror as his uncle fell to the cold floor, the light going from his eyes as he was wrapped in death’s embrace. Sebastian stood frozen and numb as his wand tumbled from his hand with a small echoing clatter.

~~

The next few hours passed in a blurry haze of numbing tears. Anne no longer wanted to see him. Ominis wanted to turn him in and she was bruised by her conflicted feelings. He knew it was his fault- that he had gone too far. He had murdered his family. He was fully and completely broken, irreversibly.

“The thing is I think I’ve lost my sister, my twin. Forever. She refuses to even see me. I can’t blame her. I couldn’t really blame any of you if you gave up on me entirely.”

Sebastian’s tears mixed with the girl he loved, the weight hanging over him still even as she pulled him closer. He realized he was no longer the boy she fell in love with, the boy anyone loved. He was no longer that golden boy with a heart that shone brighter than the sun. Sebastian was now broken and darkened, full of regret and guilt. His soul was now a mixture of something still faintly, tragically beautiful that only she could see. The red mixed with the blue of his sorrow, indigo. A beautiful melancholy color of quiet aching for healing.

He however only saw destruction. Not a single good thing left in him. There was no trace of the light from before. No sense of beauty.

He saw his hands stained with his own blood, the boy he had been. The boy who lived with hope and light. All that was left was a cold, broken reflection of someone who tried to fix something, not his to fix. Something already fractured beyond repair. The golden boy was gone, he’d also murdered himself.

~~

In the cold silence of Azkaban's cell, he hoped she would forgive him for turning himself in. That she would understand the one thing that he did, that everyone else did. His heart would never be gold again. He had shattered that part of himself forever. He’d completely lost himself.

Impure gold loses its value, its purity. And its color dims.

No one wants something that is less.

No one would want him.

Sebastian closed his eyes as they came for him. Knowing they would drain away every happy moment of his existence.

But it was okay.

He was dead anyway.

~~

“And I used to shine bright like gold,

Now I’m all indigo.

My colors are darker and cold.

I think it’s time that I went home.

And I don’t understand why I always feel

Dead and alone….”

[crescenthistory]

Omg Carina hi!!! Congrats on 2k!!! It’s 🧸 anon here (she/her) and you’re so cool for doing this event for us🫶🏻

Like you I’m also studying, last year of nursing if it matters lol, so I completely forgot to check if you answered my request and I just now saw that you did so I’m gonna go read it now! I’m so excited to get my Carina fix🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

I’ll add to the celebration - comment on “You occupy my every thought”? Don’t have anything specific I’m just such a sucker for sunshine/grumpy tropes hehe

Also if you’d like maybe comment on the 14k Remus fic? I forgot its name I’m so sorry but the way you wrote Remus made my heart swoon and it was the first ever fic I read of yours so it’s kind of sentimental too🙃

Side note thank you for sharing so much of your personal life with us it makes me personally feel really connected to the writer and it makes sense why your writing really is poetry🥰 again thank you!!

hi my darling! no, thank YOU for participating in my event<33 and for actually enjoying my yapping lmao, i appreciate you sm! last year of nursing is roughhhh, so feel free to just drop by whenever you're free. my blog will always be here for when you need it 🫂 now, i have already more or less commented on "you occupy my every thought" with these headcanons, but i would love to do the remus one!

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will COMMENT on "It's Nice To Have A Friend" with remus lupin

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

In this fic, you're Remus' childhood best friend, his favourite person on the planet, and your romance reads very much like two people who are perfectly intertwined and destined for each other

So, after the fic fades to black, I can't really see anything but an endgame fairytale ending

Remus writing home to Hope and Lyall, who have known you since you were a kid and befriended Remus despite his obvious differences:

Dear Mam and Tad,

This may not come as a surprise to you – as it seems it has not been for anyone but me – but if it does, I sincerely hope it is a pleasant one.

I am writing to let you know that Y/N and I's friendship has officially become something more and I am happy to call her my partner.

You remained attached at each other's side for the precious few months you had left at Hogwarts – this time without a spec of anxiety or guilt

I will say, it took a while for you to school all guilt out of Remus though, as his former guilt for daring fall in love with you occasionally transformed into guilt for "letting you love a halfbreed"

But you did what you did best – you kissed it away

You were far from above cradling Remus in your arms until he melted into you, whispering sweet nothings into his hairline

There was a lot of:

"I have loved you unequivocally more or less my whole life, cariad. I am not about to change that now."

"Would you love me any less if I changed? If I became a lycanthrope or a vampire or sick or poor?" "You know I wouldn't."

"Shhh, none of that. None of that, my sweet boy."

"You're just Remus to me."

Because of his particular situation, Remus had to become closer with certain members of Hogwarts staff than most other students would – particularly Pomfrey, Dumbledore and McGonagall

And I believe all of them would often share looks at how obvious the love blooming between these young students was

I have always had a particular moment in mind for when Pomfrey first noticed your connection in second year

It was the first time Remus got injured enough during a full moon to stay at the infirmary overnight, at a time where none of his dormmates knew

You, on the other hand...

Pomfrey opened the door to her office chambers right by the entrance to the infirmary at the frantic knocking. A sigh was already brewing on her lips at whatever piece of work must be waiting for her outside the wooden door this early.

She flung it open only to nearly hit your reddened, almost teary face.

"Madam Pomfrey," you squeaked in that youngin voice it seems all students spouted at that age. "Is Remus here?"

The concern was evident on your face, etched into your every furrow that were much deeper than a child should have. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that, Miss L/N," she said, not without sympathy. Patient confidentiality and all.

"Please," you whispered. "I know he's here, it was a full moon. Please can I go see him."

Unable to do anything else in the face of such youthful misery, and having heard in passing from Dumbledore before that "the Ravenclaw girl knows", she merely gestured in the direction of Remus' overnight bed.

A "thank you!" had barely made it past your lips before you walked away so quickly it could rival someone running – a loophole you had already found to the "no running in the halls" rule, surely.

Pomfrey followed to see you fling yourself to the floor beside Remus' bed, not even sparing the time to drag one of the nearby chairs closer to sit more comfortably. Your knees were on the cold floor, your hands scrambling to find his laying limp and bandaged on the white linen, but when you did, your touch turned almost painfully gentle.

"Rem? Remmy, cariad, it's me. Hi, hi, it's me." Your voice was soft, a gentle waking of the boy who should technically still be sleeping. It was clear you couldn't help yourself.

Remus' heavy eyelids fluttered open and the look in them once they found you, soft and at home, a stark contrast to how she found him the night before, struck Pomfrey right in the chest.

Oh, she had thought. This is going to be one of the lovestories I remember.

Thus, when she saw you two walking hand in hand as you passed the infirmary one of the last month of your 7th year, smiling widely and waving at her, she felt nothing short of contentment and warmth

Finally

Similarly with McGonagall and Dumbledore:

At the end of breakfast, there was nothing left to do but discreetly watch the students as they began preparing for the rest of their days, gaining an overview of what the dynamics were like at the moment and if they were all alright.

McGonagall's eyes were gliding over the Gryffindor table, not at all deterred by the splotch of blue that represented you in the midst of Potter and Co. She had grown more than used to you as an honorary member.

What did catch her attention, though, was when you got up and out of your seat, hoisting your bag over your shoulder to head off to a class you didn't share with the rest of them – right before you left, Remus caught your hand and pulled you down to him for a sweet kiss.

Not the forehead kisses she had seen before, not to the hand. No, he was smiling against your lips.

She arched an amused brow at the scene, glancing sideways to look at Dumbledore who was smiling into his plate.

"Yes," he said simply. "I saw."

She had to hide her smile behind her glass as she brought it up to drink. A silent toast.

All three of them would be invited to the wedding – which I don't think would be too far off after graduation

I imagine you got married the same year as Marlene and Dorcas; a big year of love for your friendgroup

Make no mistake, Sirius would be officiating it

This moment is definitely referenced in Remus' vows to you during the wedding:

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

"I suggested it already the first day we became official, and even that was too late – I have always been yours and it is my utmost honour to have you always be mine."

Not a single dry eye in the room

James would specifically be crying into Hope's arms

Which Sirius would laugh at until he was a few more drinks in, at which point he would do the same with Effie

(Lily took pictures of both instances with her muggle camera, and they were some of the first in the wedding album)

Should there be an Order of the Phoenix (with a happy ending for all), you and Remus would act as the parental couple beside James, Sirius and Lily

And if you eventually make Remus secure enough in himself and his lycanthropy that he would dare have some puppies? Well, the more the merrier with this lot

The cheesiest, loveliest happily ever after you could desire 🤍

[gnomey22]

Phoenix Wright & The Feys

Ace Attorney has a lot of important relationships, a whole range of ones you could argue for being the most significant throughout the games - in the original trilogy, at least.

As anyone in this fandom knows, the general fandom places most emphasis on Phoenix and Miles' relationship, and their extremely convoluted development from childhood-best-friends-who-became-estranged-to-unwilling-coutroom-rivals-to-Obviously-Gay-At-This-Point-But-Capcom-Are-Cowards. It's the greatest example of how Phoenix, and those like him, are such a positive influence in the Ace Attorney world, inspiring a deeply broken man to push forward and change his ways - and of course, it's excellent shipping fuel too. All of that is certainly up there as one of the most important relationships, but I'd only call it the second-most-important.

The third-most-important relationship is (and hear me out on this one) Phoenix Wright's relationship to the courtroom as a whole. His entire character motivation lies in the 4th grade class trial, and as AA1 implies and T&T expands upon, Mia's mentorship in the ways of the courtroom dictates a lot of his general life philosophy. He believes he exists to lend a voice to those who can't get their messages across, and the dramatic all-important courtroom is his perfect outlet. It screws him over time and time again, this fictionalised legal system's greatest similarity with the real one is its unfavourability towards everyone involved, but he uses it to his advantage, turns everything around for the greater good. But that's all metaphorical talk, not an actual character relationship.

Phoenix Wright's relationships with the Fey family are what truly define Ace Attorney, from most conceivable angles. I've seen people claim it's all about his relationship with Maya, or likewise for Mia, but I think that's a pointless separation. There's a reason Phoenix's conflation of Mia and Maya in AA1 plays out the way it does - with Phoenix learning to appreciate Maya's influence better than anyone, while still honouring Mia as best he can - and it's not because either of them were more important to him. And none of this is to talk about his relationship with Pearl Fey, how he was able to break through her shell with far more delicacy than he usually shows, an excellent showcase of his good capabilities as a vague-family-figure and lawyer, or even to talk about his relationships with the Hawthorne twins, how their manipulation and lies wounded him deeply, but nonetheless shaped him into the sharp-eyed seeker of truth he is throughout the trilogy.

In truth, it's the whole Fey family, and how inexplicably closely Phoenix Wright is tied to them, that Ace Attorney revolves around. The shichishito at the start of 3-5 is such an important moment to me, because it explains exactly what I'm about to say in a much more succinct and artistic way - The Fey family branches out to everything it touches, pulling people in too deep and entrenching them in the toxicity and pressure, until they cave and break off entirely, either getting themselves killed or deeply hurting those they left behind. This all applies to members of the family, too, so many of them meet terrible fates just for being born into it, let alone getting involved in it later in life. The few who don't die get pulled into crime, or extremely traumatised by all the pain their family lineage has faced and indirectly wrought through mere existence.

And then you have Phoenix Wright. He wasn't born into the family, we don't even know his family at all, he has no history with them whatsoever until college. He didn't marry into the family, his relationship with "Dahlia" went down in flames, and now his interests lie in the Demon Prosecutor he had a fourth-grade crush on. He didn't even visit Kurain Village once until 2-2, and he was already close with multiple Feys at that point. But he's been inexorably linked to the family in dozens of ways, from dating Iris posing as Dahlia, to spending three years learning everything he knows from Mia, to carrying her memory alongside her younger sister and his developing best friend Maya, to comforting a young Pearl when she's put in the most vulnerable position of her life. Everything I've just listed is wrapped in tragedy, from toxic relationships to false murder charges to real murder charges and unwarranted deaths, but Phoenix never breaks away. He always has to wrap up every loose end, leave no stone unturned, and stick by the people who need a voice like his. So, even through the unimaginable amount of violence and trauma the Fey family brings about, he finds many of the most valuable relationships in his life through them, and in turn, he unravels the mysteries and curses shrouding their entire existence one-by-one, providing bittersweet closure to the crimes and tragedies always unfolding in front of their, and his, eyes.

Just like he does with the courtroom, and just like he does with Miles, he turns it all around. That is the spirit of Ace Attorney.

...

and also it's just really funny that this random lawyer is constantly pushed into the centre of generational magic family drama

[sailorluna15]

Like Him by Tyler The Creator, but it's Azula and her family.

Azula being Lola Young's part of "Do I look like him?"

From Ursa's point of view, it's her seeing not only Ozai but herself in Azula. She sees how Ozai has infected Azula just like he infected her. She sees how she went from smiling like her, laughing like her, crying like her, dancing like her, singing like her, and even reading the same fairytale books she used to read as a child to imitating her father and abandoning everything that she loves and that's natural to please him.

Ozai sees himself in his daughter. He sees himself as a child in her. A calm, socially awkward child who struggles to make connections with others. A child who spends much time alone, drawing, painting, and playing make-believe. However, he also sees Ursa. When he sees Azula come home with two girls he doesn't know and look happier than she's looked in her entire life, it makes him envious. Seeing her sing, draw, and dance for her mother, cousin, brother, and friends makes him sneer. She doesn't need to do those things. Those things will do nothing but make her weak. He will make her strong. She doesn't need anyone but him. One by one, he chips away at her. Rubs poison on her gums and whispers curses into her ears. He exposes her to radiation and tells her symptoms are normal. He destroys her because she's more useful to him that way. She's more useful when she looks like Ozai than when she looks like Ursa.

Zuko stares at his sleeping child, and a memory flashes through his mind. He and Azula leaning on each other, sleeping soundly. He never thought in a million years that his daughter would come out looking like his sister. When Izumi smiles, laughs, gives attitude, dances, and shows repeatedly that she's quick as a whip, it reminds him of his sister. He wonders what life would be like if Ozai had been different. If Mom had been different. If Cousin hadn't died. If Uncle had taken her with him. If she had gone with them. If she'd had been more like a sister and less like an enemy. Even now, as their toxic relationship has turned into a weirdly close one, she refuses to come home. To return to her keeper. He tried bringing her to his chambers the first time she returned to the palace. She refused. He asks why, but she refuses to answer. He wants to push further, but she looks like she might break if he does, so he doesn't. He tries to get her to stay longer, as his daughter loves her newfound family member, but Azula pushes to go home. She pushes to go back home to the countryside with her wife. He lets her go and only sees her when his turtle duck dances to a concert of hers playing on the TV. Every time his turtle duck sees her Titi singing on stage, she asks when she's coming back to see her lovebug.

Mai gets a little jealous when she sees her old friend interacting with her new friends. She sees the little girl she became best friends with when she sees her with them. How she laughs, jokes, dances, and spends time with them reminds her of how they all used to be before Ozai. Fuck him. Why did Azula have to change? Why couldn't she stay the way she was. Funny, witty, protective, and kind in her own little way. Mai sees 'Zula in Azula. She wants to be friends with 'Zula again, but she doesn't know if they can ever return to that. She still harbors resentment and hate for the things Azula has done, but she still loves 'Zula. She always knew 'Zula was still in there somewhere, just hiding to keep safe. Azula's here because it's unsafe for 'Zula to be out. Azula protects 'Zula. Azula hurts others to protect 'Zula. Mai and Azula are cordial now. They laugh together about old times and about new things too, but Mai can tell it's not the same. Azula is always a bit guarded around all of them. She's protecting 'Zula. Mai guesses 'Zula doesn't feel safe around her anymore. It hurts Mai a little to know that Azula is the only version of 'Zula she'll ever see anymore.

Ty Lee is a little like Mai. She sees 'Zula, but she sees Azula more. She's happy Azula has changed, glad that 'Zula's. However, she can't help but wonder why she and Mai weren't enough. Why couldn't Azula change for them? She knows it isn't that simple. Azula was protecting herself the best way she knew how, but it still hurt to see her treat people she'd known since she was 16 better than people she'd known since she was 6. What's so special about them? Her new friends act protective whenever she and Mai are around. As if Azula needs their protection. As if they hurt Azula. She knows they fucked up with Azula, but Azula hurt them way more than they hurt her. They all agreed to let everything go. They both have apologized to each other and have shown growth, but things will never be the same. Azula won't even let Ty behind her. If she thinks Ty is behind her, she immediately turns around or maneuvers herself to where Ty Lee is in her line of sight. Ty Lee guesses it's only fair. Whenever Azula lights something on fire, Ty Lee creates a healthy distance and gets nervous. They're cool, but there are some things you can never forget.

This was supposed to be a little short but it got long. LEMME KNOW IF YALL WANT MORE.

[sahrii]

7EVEN DAYS OF WINNING YOU | Iwaizumi x fem!reader

synopsis; in which, he finally realises his feelings, and it takes him seven days to make her his.

wc; 1.1k + 10 smau pictures

warnings; high school iwaizumi, karasuno!fem!reader, they’ve known each other for a while, slight hurt to comfort? down bad iwa like always, not proofread and maybe not as good as i wanted it to be.

DAY 1, 05.06.2012

He was always there.

The second she’d step foot out of the house, his figure gracefully flooded her vision. A white jacket decorated with cyan strips hugging his torso a bit too tightly. Chocolate brown hair that perpetually defied gravity in the best way possible. Soft green eyes that might have been plucked from olive trees. And the signature loving frown etched into his lips.

This morning ritual has become as familiar as sunrise. Him against a stray streetlight outside her house. Him leaning in closer to listen to the hum of her voice as they walk to their schools. Him offering to hold her bag for her. Little things that made their world.

“y’know, you look like you haven’t slept a twink” he said, her bag slung over his shoulder in a lazy manner that did something to her heart.

“why thank you, iwa, that’s very reassuring,” she rolled her eyes.

“you can always text me if you can’t sleep,” he muttered, a sudden blush taking over his cheeks. They’ve now reached the street in which they part their way.

she looked up to him, a smile decorating her face. “you’re gonna regret offering that,”

“sure I will,” he grinned, handing her the bag.

DAY 2, 06.06.2012

DAY 3, 07.06.2012

DAY 4, 08.06.2012

“I’ve never seen an in love iwa,” sighed oikawa dreamily. “You’re growing up,” he teased, earning a snicker from Mattsun, who had his pockets stuffed in his hands. Iwaizumi was pulling his sleeves upwards, in preparation for a life threatening kick targeted at oikawa, a vein popping out of his head.

“I think you should ask her out,” he heard makki say, but every other sound dissipated into the air when he set eyes on her figure. It felt like he’d ran a marathon. His heart was getting a bit louder, and his palms became sweatier.

It was almost unreal, the effect she had on him. Almost unhealthy. He gulps, his eyes her figure in a distance. His friends thought he almost grew heart eyes. It might have been true, his eyes almost changed colour from this soft, light green to a darker one, pigmented with a soft emerald of a spring meadow.

A hand pushed his shoulder forward, and he snapped his head to the culprit. Mattsun.

“Go,”

Iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow.

“Go walk her home,” he added. The rest muttered in some sort of agreement and began walking away, leaving iwaizumi standing alone. His eyes snapped back to her figure, she was finally closer.

The moment she set her eyes on him, shooting stars bloomed through her, her eyes obtaining a sparkle of some sorts. She ran to where he was standing.

“iwa!” she exclaimed, standing right beside him, shoulders almost touching.

“hey,” he mumbled, almost stuttered.

“I thought you’re gonna be late today?”

“practice was cancelled,”

She hummed in response as they began walking once again. Her mouth kept moving, words about her day spilling out. But the only thing he could focus on was the electrocuting sensation he got with every occasional shoulder bump he received from her. He thought he’d gone deaf, blood rushing to the tips of his ears.

It was that day. The 8th of June, 2012. The day he realised he was in love with her.

DAY 5, 09.06.2012

DAY 6, 10.06.2012

It started getting a bit out of hand.

The way his heart raced. The way he yearned to see her every second of the day. He started getting off practice early, sometimes even skipping practice. Meeting her everyday with his hands curling into nervous fists hidden in the pockets of his jacket.

He told her he’s going to be late today. He lied. He couldn’t wait, so he excused himself from practice.

But today, she wasn’t alone. His mouth went dry and he felt a pang of dread and a stab of unease send direct blows to his beating heart.

A grey haired figure stood beside her. Her bag flung on his shoulder. Her breathes in sync with his. Her eyes crinkling into a happy smile. He wished he stayed in practice.

His feet grew a mind of their own, and started walking in hurried steps. He hoped she didn’t see him. Maybe he’s lying. He hoped she saw him. And maybe ran to him. And maybe flung her hands around his neck. And maybe, just maybe, kissed his lips with her sweet ones.

He went home and forced himself into sleep, not wanting his mind to recall a single memory from today.

DAY 7, 11.06.2012

He wasn’t able to sleep last night.

His brain treacherously betrayed him, replaying the way her eyes crinkled and a soft laugh escaped her lips like a broken record player.

A bouquet of flowers hid behind his back, palms sweaty and sticky. He didn’t want to think about what’s going to happen if she said no. His heart was in a state of turmoil. The adrenaline of the unknown clashing with crippling anxiety creating a mixture of naked disorder sheltering in the chambers of his heart.

He was sat on a bench. It’s rich brown colour were faded into a sad shade of beige. His leg was bouncing with anxiety and a series of what if’s. What if she doesn’t like him. What if she’s dating the grey haired guy. What if what if what if. It was the domino’s effect. One question bloomed another till his mind was flooded and his heart nowhere to be seen.

“Haji,” he heard a melodious, almost angelic voice call. It was hers. He abruptly stood up, knees weakening a little in the process. He turned so that he’s facing her, his hand behind his back.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Is everything okay?”

Iwaizumi didn’t bother responding. He just shoved the flowers with trembling fingers, the flowers practically exploding into her face. His cheeks were decorated by a slight burn of embarrassment and nervousness.

“Huh-“

“Go out with me,” he interrupted.

She blinked at him, arms cradling the flowers. One blink. Two blinks. His heart was out of this world, ears on fire. His mind spiralled into a never ending stream of doubt.

“Okay…” she replied, stretching the O and the Kay, and adding a tone of questioning at the end.

“Okay?” he repeated.

“I’ll go out with you,”

Now he blinked. Three times, to be exact. “Oh,”

“What, did you want me to say no?”

He shook his head. “No—I’m just…you like me?”

“Did you hit your head?”

Maybe he did, he wanted to say. “Shut up,” he mumbled, head turning away from her to hide the flush tattooed on his cheeks.

The flowers he’s gotten her were red tulips. Velvet petals kissed by sunlight at the dawn of day. A hopeful reminder of the passion to be blooming between them, creating red strings of fate that’ll follow both their figures even if they ended up on opposite sides of the world.

[relicunth]

JayVik firefighter AU marriage proposal ficlet

I am obsessed with JayVik marriage proposals, so I’m typing this up because I got the idea randomly. Timeline-wise, this would take place after a while, when Jayce and Viktor would finally get their heads out of their asses and confess they can’t be apart from each other.

Jayce had never seen Vander quite as livid as he was at that very moment. He would have felt sorry for the young, recently-married couple that were catching the full force of his yelling, if he had not agreed with his chief.

They had gotten the call from Viktor. Someone had called in that an outdoor wedding was using torches for atmosphere, during the hottest and driest July rural Piltover had ever seen.

“You’re kidding me,” Jayce had said, covering his face in disbelief as he heard Viktor’s voice on the other line. They had been officially together for about two months now, after years upon years of dating and breaking up, but never being quite capable of letting the other go fully.

“I wish I was, lásko. Never underestimate the stupidity of the masses.” Viktor’s voice from the other line still made Jayce’s spine tingle, the loving term of endearment giving him goosebumps. “No fire has started as of yet, but take out one truck to be certain. Maybe you could use to hose to blast some sense into them.”

“Now that would be something. Don’t think I’d ever get the chief’s permission.”

Just as Viktor was about to respond to that, a voice from his side of the call interrupted. Hushed voices spoke, before Viktor became the sole speaker again.

“Change of plans, lásko. One of the torches has caused a fire. You’ll have to take every truck available, in case the fire spreads across the forest.”

Jayce was shocked. It would only have been a matter of time, but he had hoped he would prevent a real fire from happening. He turned as Caitlyn rushed past him to get her equipment. “I have to go, mi vida. Could I ask-“

He was cut off by Viktor. “I’ll pick up Ellie after school, my sweet. Just come home safely.”

Even though Viktor had accepted that Jayce could never give up being a firefighter, he was still sick with worry every time Jayce got called. Jayce knew that, and tried to calm him down as much as possible. Oddly enough, that predominately worked when he was as realistic as possible. Having a real grasp of the situation calmed Viktor down. Supposedly it was because he knew Jayce’s skill level and as such could gauge his probability of survival. He truly was the smartest man Jayce had ever known.

The fire itself had been contained just in time, but not without any dangers. Ekko had become stuck beneath a tree trunk on his way to save a civilian. A grandmother of the bride who could not get to safety in time.

Granted, Ekko had been forbidden by Vander from taking that path. It would be to dangerous and the fire had almost been under control. Ekko had scoffed and disobeyed orders, because he had been thinking for some time now that his chief was deliberately trying to keep him out of harm’s way as a favor to his best friend Benzo, who also happened to be Ekko’s father.

Jayce did not blame Ekko. It was risky, but an elderly lady like that could not have lasted much more. Thankfully, she had survived. Ekko would be fine, too, but he had some nasty burns around his torso. “Battle scars,” he had called them.

Jayce was shaken from his thoughts right as Vander stopped yelling. The couple was distraught, the bride crying her eyes out while the groom was still shaking. He doubted they consciously registered anything Vander was saying.

This one had been a shocking one, Jayce could not lie. It put things into perspective for him. Maybe it was the fact that they had to save a wedding, what should have been the happiest day of the couple’s life. Maybe it was him still living in domestic bliss with Viktor, finally committed to making it work, coparenting Ellie and spending all of their free time together. Maybe it was seeing Ekko under that tree. It was likely a combination of all three. Whatever the case, Jayce was rattled a little. He wanted to go home to his little girl and the man he loved. Kiss them both and tell them he was safe.

His shift was done by the time they returned to the station, so Jayce took a quick shower in the changing rooms. He tried to get clean before going home as often as possible. He knew Ellie would become scared when he was covered in sooth and smelling like fire. She did not fully grasp what it meant that her father was a firefighter and he did not care to bother her with that until she was older.

“What’s gotten into you, Golden Boy?” his sister, Caitlyn, said to him as he got out of the shower, a towel draped across his waist. Changing rooms were not separated by gender, only the showers were. Not that she would have cared if she had seen him naked. Personal boundaries had a been a thing of the past for years, with Caitlyn being a lesbian. Jayce was still bisexual, but he had not once thought of Caitlyn as anything more than a little sister.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been quiet. You’re the most high energy guy I know. When you grow quiet like this, somethings’s wrong. And chances are, it’s about Viktor.”

Jayce chuckled. “Not just him, also Ellie. It all felt like too close a call. What if I had been where Ekko was? It’s all put things in perspective.”

“Put what in perspective?”

“I think… I want Viktor to formally adopt Ellie. And I think I want to marry him.” Saying those things out loud, only confirmed his feelings. He wanted nothing more desperately.

“Marry him? Jayce, I think you might be losing your mind. You’ve been dating for like two months!”

“Two months since our last break-up. Viktor and I have been together basically since we were 16. Even when we were apart, there was an invisible string holding us together. I want this. Maybe he does too?” In truth, Jayce had been entertaining the idea for a while now, but after the rough call they had just returned from, he was convinced he needed to talk to Viktor as soon as possible.

Caitlyn smiled. As annoyed as she usually was when he complained to her about Viktor, she ultimately was still rooting for them. They were perfect together, horrible apart. Jayce went to prison arguably because he was so heartbroken after Viktor left him that he stopped valuing his own life. He hardly ever stopped smiling when they were with each other, talked about him constantly.

Jayce knew he was ready for this.

As he drove his pick-up into his driveway, the door opened and his Ellie ran outside.

“Papa!” she screamed as she rushed into Jayce’s arms, her black hair in cute pigtails that bounced around as much as she did. His baby girl was truly a ball of energy.

“Mija! Am I happy to see you! Did you have fun with Viktor?”

“Yes! Papa Viktor took me out for ice cream!” Ellie calling his Viktor her papa gave Jayce a warm, fuzzy feeling. He had been as much almost all her life, which is why Jayce wanted to ask him to adopt her in the first place.

Jayce carried her in his arms as he entered his house, being greeted by Viktor in one of his shirts on top of his own casual slacks. He was holding a mug of tea, ever the lover of hot drinks even in this heat.

“Thank you, mi vida,” he greeted his love, kissing him softly.

Viktor only smiled. “She’s been a dream, like always. Welcome home, lásko. I’m glad you are safe.”

Jayce was as well. He breathed in deeply. Time to do this. Jayce put his daughter on the ground and told her to go play. “Me and papa Viktor have to talk about something important.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow as he handed Jayce a mug of tea of his own. They sat on the couch. “Am I in trouble?”

Jayce was suddenly very nervous. “N-No! But maybe… I am?”

Viktor leaned forward, a faint glimmer of nerves in his eyes. Viktor was good at keeping his facial expression neutral, but Jayce could read him like no other. He wanted Viktor to not be nervous, so he decided to just come out and ask.

“I… I love you. And Ellie does, too. You love her, and you love me. I hope.” He chuckled, but continued when Viktor only chuckled nervously. “I wanted to ask you if you would… maybe be open to formally adopting Ellie?”

He kept fidgeting nervously, but looked Viktor in the eyes as he posed his question, eager to hear his response. Viktor’s mouth hung open. He put his and Jayce’s mug on the table in front of them and turned to fully face him.

“Jayce… I would be…” He turned his face away to wipe away what looked like a tear. “Well, I suppose ‘honored’ is too small a word. I love your daughter, Jayce. It would mean the world to me if she could officially become my daughter as well.”

Jayce, releasing a breath he did not realize he was holding in relief, lunged forward and enveloped Viktor in a hug. “I love you, mi vida. Thank you!”

Viktor kissed his temple, before pulling back. “But only if Ellie wants this as well. I know she is only five, but she deserves to get a say in this.”

Jayce grinned. “Of course, but I doubt she’ll disagree.”

They called her and asked her to sit with them. She climbed onto the couch and promptly put herself in between them. “What is it, papa?”

“Well, Viktor and I have been talking. We were wondering how you would feel about Viktor maybe becoming your papa as well?”

Ellie looked at them confused. “What do you mean?”

Viktor chuckled. “Well, you know I am not your father by blood. But your daddy and I were thinking that maybe we could go to the mayor and ask him if he could make a new law that says I get to be your father as well. Would you like that?”

Jayce smiled. Viktor was so incredibly good with Ellie. He was still a realist, still tended to be serious. But the way his voice softened when he spoke to her, never unkindly, warmed Jayce’s heart. Even the clunky way he tried to make difficult topics digestible for a child caused his love to spread all throughout his chest.

Ellie, for her part, was still confused. “But you already are my papa, right? You have always loved me just like daddy! Even when you and daddy were no longer in love!”

Viktor chuckled. “There is your answer, then. Let’s get this arranged as soon as possible. Thank you, Jayce. I cannot put into words how much this means to me.” Warmth radiated from his eyes. He seemed truly happy.

“But daddy, does that mean you’ll marry papa Viktor?”

Viktor, who had reached to grab his mug of tea, choked on his drink. Jayce wanted to laugh at her question, but the fact that he had actually been thinking the same thing - and worrying about Viktor’s response - caused him to only chuckle politely.

“Well, mija… That was actually going to be my next question to your papa.” He looked up and locked eyes with Viktor, who had turned a deep crimson.

“Excuse me?”

“Well…” Jayce started. “I don’t have a ring yet. But I had a rough day at work today and it made me think about some stuff. I have been an idiot, V. For years and years, not daring to commit to you. Scared of what would happen if I didn’t come home. But now that we’re finally together, I don’t ever want want to let you go. You’re my world, Viktor. And hers, too. I know we’ve only officially dated for two months now, but it feels as if we’ve been together since high school. I’m ready for this, V. I can only hope that you are, too.”

Viktor tended to pride himself on his ability to keep his composure at all times, but Jayce could see the shock in his eyes, surprise clear on his face. “It boggles the mind how you think. No ring, nothing prepared. And here I thought romance was dead.”

Jayce blushed. “I know, I know. I’m going to do things properly after I get a ring. But I wanted to know first if you were open to the idea.” He stood up, a wave of confidence deciding his next step.

He went down on one knee in front of Viktor, smiling at the way Ellie giggled. She had no idea what was happening, but she knew it was important. He took Viktor’s hand in his. “Viktor, will you please marry me?”

Viktor shook his head, chuckling to himself. “You are impossible, Talis. Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

Jayce, once again feeling an overwhelming sense of relief, jumped up and enveloped his love in a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, mi vida!”

They kissed each other fondly, eyes shut as they both relished in the feeling of just having gotten engaged.

Ellie made a gagging sound. “Daddies, stop, that’s gross!”

They both laughed as they pulled her into their hug. She giggled as they showered her with kisses.

“Mija, it turns out papa Viktor and I are going to be married.”

This made the little girl jump, screeching in joy. “My papas are going to he husbands!”

As she jumped up and down on the couch, Viktor trying his best to try and catch her if she were to fall. Jayce leaned back. The exhaustion he had felt after his day at work had been completely washed away.

When he looked at his family. His unique, loving, family. He could not help but smile.

Once he had gotten his head out of his ass, Jayce had become the happiest man alive.

He could not wait to see what the future was going to have in store for them.

[secretxmenfanacc]

Kitty Pryde is so important to me!!

(I will mostly be referencing the Claremont era in this lore dump because I know the most about it)

Katherine (Kitty) Pryde started out as the youngest member of the X-men (at age 13, just as her mutant powers were first manifesting). She joined during the Dark Phoenix Saga and became sort of a surrogate younger sister/daughter to everyone (especially Storm). On a meta level she served as the audience surrogate to introduce new readers to the world of the X-men.

She was a very headstrong and confident kid, only made more so by her experiences with the X-men. And she could have a real temper at times! She stayed silly though, with a particularly bright and unique sense of fashion. She turned 14 in space while they were fighting the brood and experienced most of her teen milestones in somewhat perilous adult situations. This sometimes leads to angst over her inability to lead a normal life (thanks to her mutant powers), but ultimately she is proud to be a mutant and an X-man.

When the New Mutants were formed, Professor X tried to demote her to the younger team, which she took great offense to. She proved herself to him by fighting some aliens all on her own (where the iconic "Professor Xavier is a Jerk" cover comes from). She is allowed to remain an X-man, although this does cause some friction with the New Mutants.

Kitty really comes into her own as an adult on the British team Excalibur, which she joins alongside Nightcrawler and Rachel Summers/Grey after the other X-men are presumed dead (they actually just move to Australia and carry on as anonymous heroes). This is the source of a lot of angst for Kitty because around the same time her friend Doug (New Mutants) is killed and her best friend (girlfriend?) Illyana is de-aged into a child. She basically loses everyone she loves and has to start over. She stayed with Excalibur for 10 real world years before returning to the X-men.

Kitty Pryde is headstrong, confident, and capable. She has experienced devastating losses and come through with her sense of fun and easy ability to love others intact. In my opinion, she is some of the best teenage girl representation out there.

In newer comics she has evolved from her role as a new student to a teacher. In a real full circle moment she becomes the teacher to the time displaced original X-men in the All New X-men series. She is currently in the Exceptional X-men run where she teaches a new class of mutants alongside Emma Frost (very fun dynamic if you know the history).

Fun facts:

- She's jewish (often wearing a star of david necklace and depicted with curly hair + she has a great speech about her Jewish and mutant identity in Bendis' All New X-men).

- Emma Frost (from the Hellfire Club) attempted to recruit her a student multiple times (and failed) and they have a fun antagonistic but understanding relationship.

- She's best friends and roommates with Illyana Rasputin/Magick (and a lot of people ship them, myself included).

- At times she has been depicted as having her phase state as her natural form and having to concentrate to remain solid.

- She has a pet alien dragon named Lockheed.

- She's a ballet dancer and her teacher (Stevie) acts as a sort of mentor to her and also the New Mutants (they take dance class as part of their training, to help with coordination in fights).

- Storm serves as a mother figure to Kitty until she has an arc about rediscovering herself as a human woman and not the goddess she thought she was. It causes some friction in their relationship (due to Kitty being anxious over change after her parent's divorce), but Kitty eventually comes to terms with it. Her and Storm continue as close friends from that point on.

- Kitty's relationship with Rachel Summers is very purposefully queercoded by Chris Claremont (he has said so in interviews). And she is canonically bisexual!

- Less fun fact: She has an on again off again relationship with Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) starting when she is 13/14 and he is at least 19 (I choose to ignore this)

SOMEBODY GIVE ME YOUR CHARACTER BREAK DOWNS

I NEED TO LEARNNNN

SOMEONE GIVE ME THEIR ANALYSIS ON THE PSYCHOLOGY OF WARREN PLEASE

I WANNA LEARN HOW DEEP CHARACTERS GO

If you’ve been desperate to tell someone about a character you’ve dug into

TELL ME

as long as it’s a Marvel Character I’ll listen

And I’ll even take select DC characters but don’t push it.

[lingeringscars]

layla's relationship with jordan is just so interesting. When they were younger, she was liv's best friend. liv and jordan were also best friends. and layla pretended like jordan was just some annoying guy that hung around. sometimes, that was truly what she thought. most of the time, he was her best friend's brother. and on other occasions, he was one of her closest friends.

he was probably her first crush, but in a way that was never discussed because he was eww a boyyy and liv's brother. she'd secretly be glad when he showed up, while making a show of how annoyed she was that he was interfering with their time.

she would make an excuse when her head turned looking for him as they got older, and he stopped hanging around as much. she'd roll her eyes when he was around, though secretly enjoyed it. and around the same time that it seemed clear that jordan was interested in everyone but her, she thought asher and her made more sense.

and jordan became someone she sometimes hung out with in a large group who messed around with anyone but her. their easy intimacy never disappeared, but layla's feelings did. she never fully addressed or admitted to them, even to herself, and she felt that could never happen anyway. asher was her boyfriend. and then spencer arrived, and she was immediately interested in a way she hadn't been with asher in a long time. she felt disconnected from him, and spencer brought back a spark she hadn't felt since her mom died.

jordan was no longer a focus, was barely considered a friend, and he was still her best friend's brother. but for all her work reconnecting with liv, she never tried with jordan because, well, they were never friends in the first place. a lie she got very, very good at telling herself.

until he did become her best friend. until it was him she was turning to in her darkest moments. it was him that brought her relief, and it was him that she fell in love with but, once again, could not admit to. he was her best friend this time, though. he wasn't just a person hanging around. he wasn't just liv's twin brother. he was her person. and once she admitted that to herself, the rest was over. he was never going to be anything less, and she would not lie to him about her feelings for him after that. she needed to protect herself. he had walls he still needed to break down to get to all of her, but once he had, he had all of her, and he will for the rest of their lives.

[comfortstars]

no actually. Can I be honest for a second. I know I said I wasn't gonna talk about it anymore but idgaf

[ostwitchsheart]

Why did my brain randomly dump story lore on me. Do you really want me to make a sad one piece ripoff

[thedeadthree]

pov: you are leon and your best friend just found out about you and his sister