#ced

[serennes-art]

eye of the storm

ced and forseti for @fe4week, using day 2's prompt: magic and weaponry

[binchidavinci]

Cedric x reader with prompt 24? ❤️ love your writing

Take It Off

(Sad! Cedric Diggory x Reader)

'After years of knowing Cedric as the Golden boy, you finally see him without a smile plastered on his face— and all thanks to his father's incessant boasting.'

Everyone is buzzing with excitement for the Quidditch World Cup, despite the early hour. The early-morning walk to the Portkey is jovial, noisy, at worst. Laughter, the crunch of grass underfoot; but most of all, one voice carrying above the rest:

“Told you, didn’t I? Caught the Snitch right out from under him! Clean as you like!”

You don’t need to look to know it’s Amos Diggory, and you definitely don’t need to look to know who he’s talking about. Still, your eyes flick sideways to Cedric walking just ahead of you, Hermione, and Ginny: his backpack is slung low and hands shoved deep into his jean pockets; his shoulders are held tightly as he hangs his head downward.

“You played well, of course,” Amos continues, clapping someone, probably Harry, on the back, “but my boy— well, he’s always had the edge, haven’t you, Ced?”

Cedric doesn’t raise his head. “Right,” he says monotonously, pulling one hand out of his pocket to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly as Arthur continues the conversation with his colleague. You can tell Cedric has had enough of his dad's bragging for one morning.

You watch him for the rest of the walk: the way he smiles when expected, nods in the right places, plays the part with as little reluctance as possible. No one else seems to notice anything but his — admittedly — striking good looks and well-mannered demeanour.

The campsite, when you arrive that night, is everything you imagined: right in front of the deep forest, fires crackling, tents glowing gold from within, voices drifting through the warm, summer air; it feels magical — partly because it is, but partly because of everyone's high-spirits.

Except for one person, of course: Cedric.

After helping to set up the tent (a group effort, thanks to Mr Weasley’s lack of camping experience), you watch as Cedric disappears behind the brightly covered canvas toward the woods, excusing himself for a moment. You think nothing of it, so you stay and amuse yourself with Ginny and Hermione, placing bets on the upcoming match.

After an hour, however, you begin to grow concerned with his absence, and take it upon yourself to find him.

“I won’t be a minute,” you excuse yourself, but Hermione is so occupied arguing about Elf rights with the twins that you don’t think she hears you.

Wandering out toward the forest line where you saw him disappear, you spot him sitting at the edge of a campfire’s light, just beyond the shadows. From here, you can still hear everyone else talking, laughing, passing around drinks; Cedric isn’t: he’s just sat with his arms wrapped around his legs, pulled up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees.

For once, he looks tiny: like a seventeen year old boy should, sometimes.

You hesitate, then step forward into the small clearing.

“Escaping your admirers?”

He glances up, eyes glossed over like a doll’s— until they spot you. They turn honey-soft when they land on your gentle smile, as he pats the spot next to him.

“Something like that,” he says.

You sit beside him, pulling your knees in against the chill.

“Cold?” he asks, glancing sideways at you. He doesn’t wait for your answer before peeling off his brown jacket and hanging it over your smaller frame.

“Thanks, Ced.”

He nods. For a moment, neither of you speak. The fire crackles between you and the noise of the others drifts over on the wind.

“You were very gracious earlier,” you say eventually.

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Was I?”

“Yeah. Not everyone would’ve been.”

He tilts his head toward you, chewing his lower lip. “Care to elaborate?”

You pause, unsure whether you were prying. “Well, your dad… you seemed a little put-off when he was talking about your win against Gryffindor— how you the beat great Harry Potter.”

You look up and meet his gaze for a moment, breathing in the intoxicating smell of smoke mixed with his cologne, until he turns away and stares back into the fire, eyes glazing over again.

“I didn’t even beat him,” Cedric says monotonously. “It was the Dementors. My dad doesn't believe it, but I know I didn't beat him properly.” There’s no pride in his confession, no false modesty.

“Doesn't mean you failed though, Cedric." You pause, finding the right words. "Does it bother you, having to live up to your dad's idea of you? Not that you aren't all of the things he says— it's just...I think I'd go crazy being the pride and joy all the time.”

Cedric pokes absently at the fire with a stick, sparks lifting into the air.

“He means well,” he says after a moment.

You don't say anything, you just smile gently and put a hand on his back, rubbing slow circles as if to coax him out of his shell.

“He does,” Cedric affirms, but it’s quieter now— less certain.

You watch him, the firelight catching the wonderful angles of his face. For once, you don't see the confident smile, but something more tired around the edges.

“It just—” he stops, jaw tensing and releasing in a way that makes your stomach flip: you immediately turn your gaze to the fire, to prevent further distraction. “It’s easier for him if I’m… all of those things, all of the time.”

“'Those things'?”

“The one who wins. The best. at everything” He lets out a breath. “Even when I’m not.”

“You could correct him.”

“I could have,” he agrees. “But then what? Embarrass him? Make it awkward?” He shakes his head. “Everyone was happy. It’s not worth ruining that.”

“You weren't happy, though, were you? Surely that's worth something."

He looks at you, unblinking, and for a moment, the Golden Boy routine stops. “I am so tired,” he says quietly, “of trying to be the thing people expect me to be...all the time.”

You don’t answer right away, digesting his words and holding his gaze. “I bet you are," you say, "I would be too, Cedric. And I wouldn't be half as nice about it as you are."

His gaze flickers back to the fire, an amused half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You think he looks sweet in this way—in this new, real way. “That’s a very generous way of putting it.”

You continue rubbing circles on his back, worried he's cold without his jacket. "Look, I don't want to pry, Cedric. I don't want to stir the pot, but it hurts to see you this way— all...tucked away and sad," you sigh dramatically. "I'm only here to make myself feel better, really," you nudge him, smiling.

Cedric leans back slightly, resting his weight on his large, outstretched hands. “I didn’t think anyone noticed,” he admits, sheepishly.

“Well, you were wrong.”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “I'm glad you did.”

Something in his tone of voice sends a blush right to your face; you hope that he can't see it in the light of the fire.

A comfortable quiet settles between you as you glance over his shoulder toward the others, his father among them, still animated and no doubt boasting.

Cedric's voice returns your attention to him. “Stay a bit?” he asks.

You smile. “Only if you stop promise to let your guard down a bit, sometimes”

He huffs a small laugh. “Deal.”

[serenedash]

Hero on the wind 💨 @fe4week day 2

[l-lenny]

Wood you believe I snatched a Hufflepuff?

Chapter One – The Woods and the Golden Boy

Cedric Diggory x Y/N Wood

SERIES MASTERLIST

—

The Gryffindor locker room buzzed with nerves and excitement. Brooms leaned against walls like polished spears, quaffles rolled in the corners, and the air smelled faintly of sweat and pumpkin pasties.

Y/N tightened her gloves, fingers tracing the leather stitching, and let out a low growl. She could hear her brother’s voice above the din, booming like a warning bell.

“Listen up! This isn’t just any match! We are Gryffindor! We win! Do you hear me? WIN! Or don’t come back!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. She knew Oliver always exaggerated, but she also knew the man would personally haunt her if Gryffindor lost. She squared her shoulders. She didn’t need the pep talk…she’d been waiting for this match since Cedric Diggory’s smug little grin had started appearing on the pitch last season.

Cedric.

The thought alone made her stomach twist. He was everything that annoyed her about Quidditch. Calm. Controlled. Beautifully skilled. And maddeningly nice to everyone, even opponents.

“You’re thinking too much,” Oliver snapped, catching her staring off into the direction of Hufflepuff locker rooms. “Focus! Diggory’s a Seeker, get it together!”

Y/N huffed. “I’m not staring, I’m strategizing.”

“Strategizing,” Oliver mocked. “Right. Just… don’t embarrass me, little sister.”

She stuck her tongue out at his back as he stormed out of the locker room.

Mounting her broom, Y/N adjusted her goggles and scanned the pitch. Across the field, Cedric Diggory stood tall on his broom, calm as a statue, golden hair glinting in the sunlight. He waved politely at the Gryffindors, then… her.

“Good luck, Wood,” he called, his smile perfectly infuriating.

Y/N’s teeth clenched. “I don’t need luck,” she muttered under her breath. “I have skill.”

Cedric’s laugh carried faintly across the pitch, smooth and amused. She wanted to throttle him.

The whistle blew. The Quaffle was launched.

Y/N darted forward, broom slicing through the air. Her heart pounded as she locked eyes on Cedric, who glided with impossible grace, effortlessly intercepting a pass.

She shoved forward, leaning into every turn, forcing her broom to respond to her will. Cedric, predictably, didn’t falter. He spun smoothly, catching the Quaffle, and tossed it perfectly to a teammate, almost like he knew she was coming.

“Infuriating,” Y/N muttered, zigzagging after him.

Cedric’s golden eyes flicked toward her. “You’re fast,” he said. Not a taunt. Not a joke. Just… an observation.

Y/N ground her teeth. “I’m more than fast,” she shot back, almost yelling it over the wind. “I’m deadly!”

He smirked, and it was like a challenge without words. A dare. A game she couldn’t stop herself from accepting.

The rest of the match blurred into a whirlwind of broomsticks, Bludgers, and shouted calls. Every time she moved to intercept Cedric, he danced just out of reach, and every time he passed or scored, her jaw tightened.

By the end of the first half, she was red-faced and sweating, and Cedric… still smiling. Still calm. Still maddeningly perfect.

And somehow, deep down, a small, infuriating thought lodged itself in her chest: he’s… impressive.

No. Ridiculous. That thought was forbidden.

—

The match was at its peak, cheers roaring through the stands as Gryffindor pulled ahead by thirty points. Y/N gripped her broom, hair whipping across her face, eyes darting between the Quaffle and of course Cedric Diggory.

He was gliding higher, circling, eyes scanning for the Snitch. Typical golden boy, calm and precise. For a moment, Y/N forgot to breathe, caught between irritation and awe.

A Bludger shot across the pitch like a cannonball.

Y/N barely had time to shout before it slammed straight into Cedric’s ribs with a crack. His body jerked sideways, broom spinning violently.

“DIGGORY!” someone screamed from the stands.

Cedric’s hand slipped. His eyes fluttered shut.

And then…he fell.

[thesimselfsworld]

The Manliest Men in the World: Alpha Male Shirt Recolor

Initially, I Recolored this mesh by @gorillax3-cc  for my Sims and friends, but since some of @sugarcoatzzz's followers requested it after she posted her Sims wearing it, and she pestered me to share it, I'm releasing it publicly.

As mentioned above, this is a Recolor, and it requires the mesh by Gorilla Gorilla Gorilla; otherwise, it won't show up in-game.

7 Swatches

Male-frame only (DW, I plan to make a girl version soon)

As always, feel free to leave an ask or DM me directly if you have any issues. I do not check my Patreon often, so please message me here.

Download from Patreon: FREE

[cchickennn]

pretend that Lewyn is Forseti there

(or you don't have to pretend depending on interpretation)

[vieryplus]

Ced

[muttren]

i have a disability. more specifically, i have a rare genetic condition called camurati-engelmann’s disease, or CED. it is also known as progressive diaphyseal dysplasia (PDD). it is an extremely rare disorder and only around 300 cases have been reported worldwide.

i figured i would make a post talking about it, in an effort to not only educate others, but to possibly connect with others who suffer from it as well. i apologize for the longer post but please this moment to learn about my disorder.

CED is a skeletal condition that is characterized by abnormally thick bones (hyperostosis) in the arms, legs and skull. the overgrowth in bone causes bone pain, muscle weakness and extreme fatigue. the pain feels like an electric stabbing pain, an ever-increasing pressure sensation around the bones affected, or a constant aching. pain can also occur in joints and they will often lock-up, becoming immobile and stiff. the pain is especially severe during 'flare-ups', which can be unpredictable, exhausting and last anywhere from a few hours to several weeks. this is a common occurrence for us, often causing extensive sleep deprivation from the chronic, severe and disabling pain. when this happens, we are often bedridden or housebound for days or even weeks.

those affected also have an unsteady walk and limp. thickening of the skull can also lead to neurological problems, like hearing loss, vision issues, vertigo and tinnitus. symptoms vary in severity from person to person. there are treatments, however it cannot be cured. pain management is a large aspect of living with this chronic disease.

there is very little awareness and research for CED. rare diseases are severely neglected and overlooked, as are those who suffer and live with them. research is often not considered profitable due to their cost to develop and the limited patient population. major federal funding agencies give preference to research that is likely to have a direct impact on patients.

living with a rare disease is extremely difficult and isolating. it impacts the lives of millions of us and our loved ones worldwide. those of us suffering from rare medical conditions should be entitled to the same quality of treatment as other patients. i am disabled, but i am worth it.