#elf esteem

[possamble]

do you have any particular thoughts regarding marcille being a half-elf? its interesting to me considering the fact that she seems self-conscious about being a half-elf, but denies it when its brought up

i remember marcille looking visibly uncomfortable over laios simply asking her how old she is, which i think the only reason she might feel nervous about this is because it might reveal her as a half-elf to him.

she's never corrected anybody whose called her an elf either.

never mind the circumstances of the reveal, in which thistle goes on about how half-elves are inferior and accusing her of wanting to become full blooded elf, she seemed particularly upset like he struck a nerve-

i wish the half-elf thing was built upon more. also, underrated marcille line:

okay so i revisited this sequence just to make sure I could back myself up and it's just... man. there's a lot going on.

the first reaction we get from Marcille is this huge panel that takes up half of the page

she is viscerally affected. flushing to the tips of her ears with the intensity of it. and we see it again, a few pages later

so it might seem like she's embarrassed about it and lying to herself, but... I really think it's just that Thistle is accidentally hitting sore spots. If you really look at what he says to get these reactions

"you'll live out your entire life [...] and die that way too"

"a hundred years from now, nobody will be there"

Hear me out. I think, if he stuck to harping on about her inferiority without bringing up how terrifyingly long-lived she is, she wouldn't have been as bothered. But right now, Thistle is accidentally hitting all the marks on Marcille's deepest fears-- and this is after the Winged Lion promised her that her dreams could come true in an extremely vulnerable moment, so it also hits her slightly guilty conscience as well.

I do truly believe that Marcille isn't bothered about being a half-elf the way that people assume she'd be bothered by it. To her, the biggest problem with being a half-elf is that it's isolating.

On one hand, it's not hard to imagine why she'd distance herself from elves in the west. A lot of them can clock her as a half-elf on sight, unlike other races, and therefore she's always branded with this weird stigma of being Othered -- I would even say that she considers herself lucky for being born outside of elven culture instead of having to grow up in it. I mean, just... look at the way elves talk about her.

Skipping past the uncomfortable implication of what 'not tolerating the existence' of half-elves would actually entail, this is incredibly fucking annoying. You can see why she wouldn't want to be around elves much. You see a lot of Marcille reacting badly here, but honestly, almost all of it can be attributed to her freaking out that her bluff completely failed. She's honestly more paying attention to Izutsumi's footsteps and trying to coordinate an opportunity to escape.

And in the end, you see her built-up frustration at being asked if she wants to be a full-blooded elf like 2-3 times in a row.

Yeah, yeah, "the lady doth protest too much," and all. But we know Marcille. We know that she's a lot more embarrassed and horrendously unconvincing when she's being prodded about something she's actually self-conscious about.

Moving onto the flipside of things, it might seem weird that she "pretends" to be a full elf around other races, but it's not really that strange if you think about it. Again, people are weird about her being infertile or whatever, and a lots of them don't even know much about what sets half-elves apart from everyone else. I mean, look at how uncomfortable Laios is just asking her about it

and look at how exasperated and resigned she looks

And like... she's right. Where would that come up in normal conversation? Why would she go out of her way to tell them? She's functionally a normal elf to other races anyway -- got the ears, the abnormally long "childhood", and the huge mana capacity. Unless it's directly relevant or important for people to know, I don't think it's all that strange or indicative of insecurity that she prefers not to bother with it.

(This combined with her sense of being an "outsider" to elf culture also explains why she thinks elf superiority is embarrassing. She sees the way elves treat short-lived races from the "outsider" perspective nonetheless, and thinks it's obnoxious; especially more so because she usually has to play the elf around short-lived races and deal with the reputation of arrogance that elves have built up.)

The sad thing is, this all means that... she doesn't actually fit in anywhere. She doesn't like going out West much because of how elves treat her. But she's also an outsider in the continents she was born in, treated like this exotic long-lived alien choosing to live among short-lived races for some reason. She is always an outsider, the Other, no matter where she goes. Add in the fact that she'll live longer than literally anyone she knows, and it's honestly kind of heartbreaking.

And I think that's the crux of it. Marcille really doesn't act like she's at all self-conscious about being a half-elf because of any feelings of inferiority or being half-made or whatever. She considers herself a perfectly legitimate being and might even, in some ways, consider herself superior to normal elves because she's not blind with elf supremacy or whatever. (And whatever "elven biases" she displays, all of them are born more out of the fact that she's kind of bad at conceptualizing how other races age and mature compared to herself, not that she actually considers herself better or more mature simply for being an elf.)

I think that whatever self-consciousness Marcille has about being a half-elf is, instead, related to terror and loneliness. The reminder that it ensures she'll never truly belong anywhere for the rest of her very long life. The reminder that, in truth, even she's not actually sure how old she is by other races' standards (hence the discomfort when asked how old she is). She doesn't want to not be a half elf, or be a full elf or full tall-man-- in her ideal world, she's still a half-elf. She just gets to live out her life at the same pace with the people she loves and doesn't have to say goodbye again and again and again until she dies.

and one last very important panel, right after Mithrun tells her that all her desires would be devoured

In her ideal world, she's still a half-elf and reality magically starts marching at her pace. But failing that, the second best thing is that she's still a half-elf-- but one who is able to accept reality and let go of her fear.

(But the rest of the story pans out the way it does because, to Marcille, taking reality apart and reshaping it was less scary than simply and fully reconciling with it.)

[mothspore]

hello hello friends it has been a little while since my last post but here take another scarian as a treat

[mannimarcoiscool]

☁️ Elenwe of Cloudrest ☁️

[dark-elf-writes]

Thinking more of that strifesodos one night stand idea from forever ago.

Cloud hearing Zack whine and complain about Genesis being fully in love (“he wrote poetry spikey. Poetry! About someone he met once!”) and reaching the conclusion of “I can never go back to a bar ever again” instead of, you know, talking to Genesis. This works for some time (Firsts are busy, after all, and with Genesis haunting the bar he met his mysterious lover in every night he has free in hopes of seeing them again he’s not around to see what the puppy is doing or who exactly he’s hanging out with) but eventually there’s some fancy company party that Zack gets cloud to come with him to because “It’s so boring spike! A real friend would suffer with me!” And Cloud is so sure that Genesis won’t be there much less remember what he looks like if he is. The club they met in was dark and Cloud had been wearing makeup that he was far too distracted to remove before falling into Gen’s bed.

Genesis recognizes him instantly. Zack realizes a second later he has been complaining about his problem to the source of his problem and “coincidentally” gets distracted by Kunsel right at that moment. Cloud is debating whether he could get out a window before Genesis could catch him.

[merrymorningofmay]

the two things that make me mad with gender envy are halsin bg3 and irish dancers who can do heel clicks

[danceintheskies]

look at my stupid idiot dipshit son i love him so much

[solarespeon]

thinking about my druid, aster

[haltijakapala]

My lovely elf is finally done! He will be a prismatic sticker if everything goes as I hope >:3c will post proper pictures then. Or probably a video :D

This guy is Daenthia, a high elf exile with a very high self esteem! The little thingie in the corner is me xD I Love Elves. So much.

[growingwithem]

[sparklecryptid]

lols, who realizes Anordil has no idea that the other two have been under the impression that the THREE of them were courting first? Like, THEY'VE EXCHANGED GIFTS probably?

Oh wait, waitwaitwait, Anordil left with her mother when she was still a child, right? And like, she was barely an adult when her mother left, and post apocalyptic Beleriand was a nightmare so some talks might not have been had amid survival. And her Ada is, well, kind of nuts for a very long time, so not someone Anordil probably considers asking about this stuff.

Is- is she perhaps missing some key points of Elven social culture? Like, she has memories of Tolkien, and presumably at least skimmed the deeper lore like LACE? So she has vague memories of Elven society being one way, when in reality Tolkien got the broad strokes right but also surely made up bits to fit his own cultural upbringing.

Intellectually she knows not everything matches up, given she's helping two male elves get together and has possibly had lovers of her own here and there (MOAR angst bc her past lovers FORGOT her bc she's the 52 Hertz elf) and knows the 'sex is marriage to elves' thing is phooey, but she has no idea the emotional INTENT behind some of whats been going on between the three of them is in any way COURTING.

Erestor: Is this on us? Were we not clear? I gave her that lovely blank book. She gave me those three inkstones from the east and you that lovely tooled utensil pouch. You gave her BOOTS!

Glorfindel: I thought the new boots were overkill even. Naneth would have twisted my ear for being so forward if I'd done that in Valinor! (Note: Boots would ABSOLUTELY be like a stage three courting gift normally, stage two at the earliest. Shoes of any kind are hard to make, require precise fitting, and a skilled craftsperson. Glorfindel, if he didn't make them himself, would have dropped a LOT of coin on them. But Anordil has traveled so much, so hers were probably worn, and he'd seen her trying to fix the unmendable wear in them so-)

So like, maybe Elrond and Celebrian watches this and do a little math, and it slowly dawns on them that Anordil is MISSING CONTEXT. Oh, dear, they're going to have to have a TALK with her when she gets back, aren't they. Elrond is going to have to explain noldor social moors to his older sister. (Celebrian: It will be lovely practice for the twins one day? XD)

(*facepalm* I meant this to just be a jokey two paragraph thing but my brain must WORLDBUILD. It would not stop going, "wait and what about-" as I typed! Ugh, sorry!)

no that's exactly it! Anordil ~~logically~~ knows that she is missing bits of culture that she /should/ know considering who her parents are and what she is it's just-

her mother never really had time to teach her about things like 'courting 101' amidst the whole 'we are on the precipice of morgoth killing us all' and 'oh. the land is literally sinking beneath our feet as armies fight it out. okay' thing and anordil never gave it too much thought so she just sorta shrugged and went on with life!

and all of her other brief encounters with what could be called lovers were over in less than two years (most of them were with Men, but there was that one very cute dwarf lady that Anordil had a lot of fun with. there were a few elves too, but she always left or broke things off before they got too serious)

Anordil: *Comes back a year later* i have gifts!!! :D this is for the twins and this is for arwen and this is for elrond and this is for celebrian. and OH i got a pretty quill from a scribe for erestor and glorfindel has a new hair clip for reasons-

Elrond: you do know the gifts they gave you were courting gifts right?

Anordil: *drops erestors quill back on the table where she was showing off her haul to Elrond*...thats a thing?

Elrond: yes. its a thing.

Anordil: *error local elf does not believe that anyone would want to seriously court her let alone the two people shes had eyes on error*

[ooc-miqojak]

🌟- For a secret wish or desire of theirs

- @capitaine-fou

Spill Your Secrets Meme

"Secret desires? Well, they're not very secret, if I tell you, now are they?" There's a flash of a fanged grin... and a lazy shrug to follow, "I don't know, rather mundane things like 'being accepted as I am'... but then, everyone else isn't literally half a demon, when they ask for acceptance. It's a different kind of ask, in my case. To be at peace with who and what I am? I guess? I don't sit around and harbor secret desires - I go fullfill them when the time and place is right. So what I'm left with are things like 'I'd like some friends who accept me' and 'maybe a lover who isn't freaked out by what I am', and that sort of thing. Those are much more difficult things to fulfill than the spicy things most other people tend to bottle up, and hide away." A softly-heaved sigh accompanies the slackening of her shoulders, and a soft grimace, "I guess I wish most of all... that... that a very specific someone would forgive me. Accept me back. Be a part of my life, again. But he never will, and it's like losing my father all over again - except this time I know he's alive, and simply doesn't want me."

[dalishious]

The infamous roof scene... My favourite Sera scene in the game.

#LowElfEsteem is a series on Sera’s romance with an elf, discussing both the well and poorly done aspects of her writing, while also examining her character on a deeper level.

Sera invites the Inquisitor up onto the roof to eat cookies together. She then opens up a bit about her backstory, though in a typical Sera fashion, tells a lot by just focusing on one specific thing.

Sera: I got caught stealing when I was little, yeah? You get alienage or worse for that, but the "Lady Emmald" took me in.

Sera: She was sick and couldn't have children. I had no parents. It worked out.

Sera: Anyway, she gets a year sicker, so I ask her about cookies. Because moms make cookies. I can pass that down or something.

Sera: Turns out, she couldn’t cook. She missed that talk with her mom. The ones she "made" she bought, and pretended.

Sera: Aww, right? Well no, she was a bitch.

Sera: She hid buying them by keeping me away from the baker. She did that by lying that he didn’t like me; didn’t like elves.

Sera: She let me hate so she could protect her pride. I hated him so much, and I hated...

Sera: Well, she died. And I hate pride. Pride Cookies.

Sera: But this is great, you’re great, so I thought, maybe me and you could make some.

Sera: I don’t know, "Us Cookies."

Sera: Because then I could like them again. Aww, it’s stupid…

Inquisitor: I don’t understand, this Lady Emmald was just trying to be good to you.

Sera: She hurt people.

Inquisitor: It was just cookies.

Sera: It was not just cookies!

Sera: Lie to herself, fair play, only hurts her. But she made me think there was something wrong with me!

Sera: And the baker? I made his life shit! Why not? It seemed like he deserved it. I mean, if you don’t give a child a cookie because of appearances, you’re a monster. Stupid, pride-whore noble.

Let's get the obvious out of the way, first: When Sera says, "I hated him so much, and I hated..." trailing off, she means she hated herself. That much is obvious by Sera's further explanation, "she made me think there was something wrong with me!"

Why would Sera pick this moment of all things to talk about? Well, remember that Sera would have been less than 10 years old when this happened; the most formative years of growing up, and this incident clearly stuck with her. It taught her she couldn't trust someone she thought was looking out for her, all because Emmald cared more about maintaining appearances than her adopted child's self-esteem. She taught Sera that she would be hated for being an elf, but neglected to teach her that it wasn't Sera's fault.

Was Emmald racist herself? I'm not sure, but she certainly did use racism as a means of control. And maybe that's almost just as bad.

After this talk, the Inquisitor has the opportunity to ask Sera a bit more about herself, this time, Sera being honest. She talks about her history with the Red Jennies a bit, how she got the chance to learn how to use a bow, etc. But I want to highlight this bit of dialogue in particular:

Inquisitor: I think that, after our rooftop chat, I get why you're not like other elves.

Sera: Well, don't. How about we dig into what you are? Or what you're supposed to be?

Sera: Do you know wall about elfiness? What it takes to keep our ears all perky?

Sera: Because you could be more than just that. To me, anyway.

The romance dialogue response is "Whatever I am to you, Sera, that's all I need." And that's cute, but I want to complain about Sera's response if you answer with, "We should all be examples of our peoples, and understand how others will judge us."

Sera: Right, well, good on you. Have fun.

Sera: Don't forget to whine about the past. All elves do that.

Sera: Heard that once. From an "example".

Fucking yet again, Kristjanson can't resist the urge to have Sera denounce systemic racism as something you "whine" about, without any chance at rebuttal. We get it, buddy. You don't know how to write internalized racism in a way that's not just offensive.

If it were up to me, I'd give the Inquisitor the opportunity to challenge Sera with this, to teach her that everything she's regurgitating from what she's heard the humans say is wrong, and that hating her own people accomplishes nothing except doing half the work of her oppressors for them.

[lovekia]

[dark-elf-writes]

For Reborn, trying to kill someone repeatedly is basically foreplay

Tsuna has no idea the absolute disaster courtship happening behind the scenes between Skull and Reborn because he is too busy trying to figure out if Reborn greets all of the people he’s guarding with absolutely mind numbingly wonderful kisses or if Skull had all but dry humped Tsuna on the dance floor of a club “as a friend” but it is absolutely happening and somehow it’s going far better than both of them openly trying to woo Tsuna

[meo-eiru]

heyy!! here I am with some more thoughts, this time about Elias.

honestly, for some reason, he seems like a very lonely person to me. you mentioned his will to change himself (and go to extreme lengths in that); also his almost paranoid fear of darling leaving him, (delete all of your contacts except for him, etc) – usually such level of jealousy is a sign of very low self-esteem. dunno if it's true, I just had a feeling that he's super insecure deep down. (he's afraid to look bad in our eyes, remember? to an unhealthy extent.)

and he's so empty. so beautiful on the outside, but so so empty. he loves you, he exists for you, isn't that enough? it isn't. you can't feel genuine affection for someone just because they look good. and Elias knows that! he's actually self conscious (unlike some elf with big tatas), but he can't offer you anything else, which must make him feel even more insecure, because deep down he knows that he won't be able to keep you by his side forever.

actually that will of his to go to extreme lengths for us is pretty frightening. how toxic it can be? depends on the darling! because if you are a normal person, you'd be patient with him, change him, and have a happy ever after and all those boring things. but what if Elias happens to fall in love with an unreasonable and possessive monster?

I feel like he'd go very well with a darling who's yandere for him too. and a stereotypical one at that, who'd want to keep him by their side like a pretty doll. get it? not a life partner, not even a human. a doll, a pretty thing to take care of. they would choose pretty clothes for him, brush his hair, but at the end of the day, he's nothing more but a pretty thing, an object.

I really like the doll metaphor for Elias. (I'm a huge doll lover, I ever have one of that super expensive bjd) dolls are beautiful, but aren't alive. they can't be someone you'd open your heart to; under their shiny porcelain skin, they're hollow.

unlike Silas, Elias is a more tragic character in my eyes. he's willing to carve his bones to whatever shape you desire, because if he isn't validated and noticed by you, he has no value. and you (if you are a normal person) will grow tired and bored of him, sooner or later. he wants to be loved, when there's pretty much nothing to love in him.

unlike Silas, his love can ruin only himself.

(I swear it's not like I want to see him suffer in particular. I'm open to all kinds of despair, pain and sadness, whether it yan's or darling's!)

(also I tried to find his colour scheme, but all I found was you mention his hair, so it's just how I think he looks like.)

DHDKDHDKYS NOT ONLY IS YOUR ANALYZES AMAZING YOU ALSO DREW ELIAS??? AND HOW DID YOU GET HIS COLOR SCHEME SO RIGHT???

I love you thank you god I love asks like yours.

You’re very on point, Elias is like a pretty doll. Beautiful on the outside but completely empty inside, and that beauty is the only thing that gives him any kind of worth. He’s aware of this more than anyone.

He’s not rich, he doesn’t have an amazingly successful career, no hobbies, no specialities, no interests. He’s extremely pathetic and all he can do is pitifully attempt to pull you down to his level.

That’s why committing self harm comes so easily to him even if he doesn’t yearn for it. Endangering himself, his only value, his body, is the only way he can keep you with him. He doesn’t have any power over you he can use against you. He only has this disgustingly and pathetically beautiful body.

He wants to be loved by you, he wants you to be obsessed with him as much as he is with you, but deep down he knows he doesn’t have any qualities that could deserve such love. That is why he leans into his appearance so hard, since the moment he was born that face of his was the only thing that gave him any sort of value.

If you find any part of him ugly he’ll have no choice but to try to fix it even if it completely ruins him. Because he thinks that’s the only way for him to keep your eyes on him. He’s just through and through pathetic. Extremely pitiful.

He would indeed roll well with a yandere reader who treats him like a living doll. Because Elias wants to be values by you, even if it means getting stripped of the little sense of identity he had. He wants you to keep your eyes on him and see him as an object who exists for your satisfaction. Because at the end of the day that is what he is. An empty shell who was unfortunate enough to be born with the ability to love.

Elias’ existence can’t handle his own love. He’ll start breaking from inside out like a doll under pressure. That’s why he needs your reassurance, he needs you to reaffirm his worth. He can’t exist for himself so he needs to exist for you. He might be a beautiful shell of a human but he too can have some sort of value if he’s being used like a tool by you.

But watching you also makes him feel extremely jealous and frustrated. Because you have everything he doesn’t have. You have hobbies, things you enjoy, things you do for yourself, people who stay with you not for your outer shell but for who you are inside. Everything Elias never had and never will.

That’s why he tries so hard to ruin your relationships and threaten you to stay with him, to keep you at his level like a pathetic bug. Because you’re not like him. You can abandon him any day of the week and continue your life like you lost nothing, but Elias isn’t like that. If he loses you he truly will have nothing left.

So please love him, ruin him, break him, treat him right, use him, make him feel alive, give him some sort of value. Please be kind to Elias. He needs you more than anyone on this world

[ma1dita]

it will pass

part two can be found here -> without a doubt

words: little under 2k

summary: Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

warnings: none! fem!reader; i would die for best friend!james, did not demonize lily; angst, unrequited love, lil childhood speech impediment, cheesy nicknames, sharing clothes, will they wont they (they wont im sorry)

a/n: guess who just rewatched fleabag szn 2! i chose pain today sorry— god i missed writing. i am a words of affirmation gorl pls affirm me

(posted 9/8/23)

—

There isn’t a single doubt that James Potter loves you.

You’ve been attached at the hip since training broomsticks and pinky swears in Godric’s Hollow. You accidentally call a boy ‘Jam’ once because of your childhood speech apraxia, and he swears you’re meant to be his best friend.

“Don’t worry, I can be loud enough for the both of us, peanut!”

Like peanut butter and jelly, you two were a perfect match– and even better partners in crime. When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So even if you were honestly unable to string the words together, who were you to say no?

Technically it’s somewhat official too, by whatever imaginary power was bestowed upon the Potter’s house elf for your very elaborate backyard fantasy wedding the two of you had when you were seven. All of your parents were in attendance, along with your cat and you all had blueberry cupcakes after your first and only kiss.

“Miss Mippy pronounces you huzbind and wife!”

Giggles are heard all around as the tiny elf tripped on her way off the stool, knocking both your heads together. James lost a front tooth that day, but he grinned for the pictures your mothers took anyway. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

There wasn’t anyone at Hogwarts who would expect one of you to be present without the other following behind. You never had to hold back your smart mouth because James was always willing to finish your fights. The both of you were a package deal, with your number of protectors growing once Remus, Sirius, and Peter came along. It was not a routine you both consciously established, but rather second nature to be in each other’s lives. Like how you always made sure his glasses were clean before quidditch matches and he’d chuck his extra jersey at your face for you to wear.

“Stay warm during the game okay? I’ll see you later, love you!”

He skated around your waist, blowing a raspberry onto your cheek as he grabbed his glasses from your fingers.

“Don’t fall off your broom. Love you too, loser.” You’re already tugging his jersey over your head, inhaling his signature scent of broom polish, cinnamon, and Sleakeasy’s hair potion.

James smiled at you softly, before running to meet up with his team. After Gryffindor won again, he threw you over his shoulder and you laughed and yelled that he smelled like sweat. He always tucked you in his bed after parties, wrapping you in his arms once the lights go out. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

Your friendship is stronger than most romantic relationships, and as your teenage years fly by, both of you realize how rare that is. He often took you to the kitchens to eat vanilla sundaes after boys broke your heart (and they got black eyes to match, courtesy of him and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team) and you would listen to him, building him up and calming him down through years of pining over a certain Lily Evans. You were there for each other through everything, silly crushes, secret trysts, boring detentions, and highly esteemed accolades. If there ever were such a thing as soulmates, you knew it had to be him, even if it was platonic. Just being around someone as vibrant as James made you consider yourself lucky.

You once saw your best friend with his head in his hands on your way to a date—he was moping after a nasty prank on Snape went wrong; it ended in Lily crying and after defending her albeit quite boisterously in true James fashion, he still didn’t get the girl.

He gets up to see you walking down the corridor to meet him halfway, and before you even speak he rubs his eyes, posture shrinking as his towering frame melts into your embrace.

“Don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he mumbles, and you gladly carry the weight of his heart.

“Let’s go swimming in the Black Lake, ” you say suddenly, rubbing his broad back in small circles.

“But peanut, you have a date in an hour! You’re all dolled up and pretty...”

“I’ll have more dates. You need me right now, jelly. I’ve got you.” His nickname makes you blush a little more than you should sometimes, so you only ever pull it out as a trick up your sleeve to make him feel better.

“Love you,” you whisper, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He breathes easily for the first time in hours, mouth curling up from its frown when he sees you walk straight into the lake water with your nicest clothes on, not even hesitating for a moment. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So years later, when your best friend asks you if you could go wedding ring shopping with him to propose to the love of his life, who were you to decline? I mean, who else would go with him?

“Come on, (Y/N). I need my best girl with me to make the biggest decision of my life.” he’s practically moaning, the man ever so dramatic as he’s sprawled across your couch.

“And why aren’t you dragging Sirius with you again?”

Your eyebrow is raised as you stand at his feet, lifting his burly legs for you to place yourself under and get comfortable.

“What does Sirius know about women? He’d tell me to get the shiniest one and leave!” James’ yells into your throw pillow, anguished at the thought. You pull it off his face, before he quietly admits, “I just want to get it right.”

“When are we going?” you answer, without missing a beat.

Later that week, the saleslady recommends a wide array of glimmering engagement bands, none of which are for you. But you let yourself fall into the fantasy of the what-ifs, flashing back to your flower crown and candy ring wedding, wondering if it could’ve been you getting proposed to by him in another life.

“Would you like to try a few on?” the saleslady asks, assuming you two are together.

“Show me and my girl your best. No price limit.” he grins.

And how dare she assume that, as he puts his head on your shoulder, whisking you around the store to look at stunning rings, fingers brushing, and the both of you being able to communicate clearly with no words spoken. James plays along with the saleslady, finally choosing a whimsical-looking diamond setting placed upon your left ring finger. You remind yourself it’s not yours. Your heart comes to a screeching halt and you can’t help but feel all of a sudden like he’s being mean.

After all, he’s not yours, not really.

There is a little bit of doubt now and a weird tightness in your chest that makes you think of the possibility that you’re in love with James Potter.

—

Like a good best friend, you help him plan his proposal. James’ love is loud, pulling all the stops, and preferring the grandest of gestures.

“James, you are not proposing to Lily with a flash mob.”

“But it would be so cool! After all, my heart dances every time I see her face.” he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his butterbeer.

“Your heart might, but you, unfortunately, are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.” You laugh, reaching over to tug the quill out of his hand, crossing it off his list. He pulls you into a headlock, kissing the side of your face teasingly.

“What would I ever do without you, peanut?”

You wipe James’ spit off your cheek, pushing his face away, blushing from his attention.

“Combust, probably.”

Your heart is dancing now too, and you realize that there isn’t a single doubt that you’re in love with your best friend.

—

You keep yourself busy in the month before his proposal. It hurt learning too many details, such as what flowers he wanted to order to bring out her eyes (pink and yellow tulips), and scouting out the perfect location on the beach he picked (next to the lighthouse you and him visited as kids), even down to how he’d convince Lily to wear white without being suspicious (honestly he just expected you to do him a favor for this one). But after seeing each other almost every day for more than half your life, he knew something was off when you became distant.

James shows up at your apartment, his key in hand, but he decides to knock anyway. The sound of the TV is muffled, lowering in volume until he hears your footsteps pad over to the door and it swings open. You’re in one of his old Quidditch sweaters and fluffy blue socks.

“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come by.” You smile timidly, as he leans against the doorframe peering down at you.

“Never used to have to tell you.”

“James...” you stutter, before awkwardly opening the door completely. He shuffles towards the couch, keeping his shoes on as he sits at the end, and there’s a certain tension in the air that frightens you. You’re not sure if you’ll come out of this one unscathed.

“Talk to me (Y/N). What’s been going on with you? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t write back, hell, I haven’t seen you in a month because you started deadbolting your door. Did I do something?”

Yes, James Potter. Ever so blunt and to the point, your favorite person in the world is sitting on your couch uncomfortable with the fact that you’re not comfortable around him anymore.

You fight back against your instincts to tell him what’s wrong, but the three words escape your mouth before you can even take a breath.

“I love you.”

It’s silent. The floor creaks as you shift your weight onto your other leg. You lock eyes with him for the first time that night, and so many things are going through your head that you hope he’s able to pick up on how you’ve been physically aching, carrying the weight of his love for Lily for years.

James looks like he’s about to shake his head, and you beat him to it. You don’t want pity, and he knows that, but he mutters a consolation into the air.

“It’ll pass.”

No, it won’t. Not this.

You think he knows that too. He smiles sadly, watching you turn shrinking into yourself. You never were good at thinking before you spoke. A tear drips down your cheek as you look at your socks again. Your love for him is too big and too loud for your chest cavity to handle. This love feels like dramatic choral music clashing and banging around in your ribs.

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. This one’s on me,” you say, stopping him before he finishes speaking.

Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

“What I was going to say...is that I’m going to have to ask you not to show up to the engagement party. It’ll be better for the both of us. We can start again from there if you want... Peanut...”

The term of endearment hangs in the air. Your dancing heart was a ticking time bomb after all. The fragments hit your insides, tearing you apart as it combusts, and you realize that nothing will be the same after this.

James stands abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitates before he kisses your temple, and for some reason, this feels like a goodbye. After all, when James sets his mind on something, he sees it through. He’s been set on Lily for years.

You’re his best friend, he swears. And there are no words you can think of to deny that.

—

The End

“I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know what

we are— and I know what we’re not.”

Lang Leav