#whatcouldhavebeen

[noxturnalmoth]

What Could Have Been Masterlist

Summary: Silco, the Eye of Zaun, the Industrialist, was first and foremost a son of Zaun who wanted his motherland free. After an altercation in which his adopted daughter shot him in a fit of rage, he is left dying while the world goes on without him. His life's work and ideals soon trampled to nothing as his memory fades from the world. But what if he was saved?

Warnings: Violence, spoilers for Arcane season 2

Fix it fic following Canon! Silco x Reader who saves him from imminent death

(finished)

Chapter 1: Alive

Chapter 2: Alone

Chapter 3: From Ruins

Chapter 4: Rebirth

Chapter 5: Children of Zaun

Chapter 6: Catharsis and Ruination

Chapter 7: War Drum Hearts

Chapter 8: Unity

Extras:

- WCHB AU Silco art by @sug01s3al

Silco Masterlist: here

Arcane Masterlist: here

Navigation: here

[zousiq]

I just think they deserve the world

[legallymay]

Tommy: *breathes*

The narrative: Somebody lied to her several times and told her that she was fly, hot, and sexy, and beautiful and she is nothing like that. She’s nothing of the sort.

[alarwynnwhispers]

✨ NEW STORY DROP ✨

(F1 x Reader | Lando Norris AU | Second Chances + Heartache + Healing)

Title: Ties That Still Bind

Chapter 1: Entanglements

Monaco's most sought-after wedding planner was thriving—tailored suits, client lists full of royalty, and a perfectly curated life.

Until he walked in.

Lando Norris. The one she loved. The one she left. Now sitting across from her… planning someone else’s wedding.

Not just any someone. His best friend. And he has questions.

The kind that unravel everything she worked so hard to bury.

——————————————— 💬 "I was scared." ———————————————

She’s mastered the art of smiling through grief. Of looking untouched while everything inside her still bleeds.

But old love doesn’t die easy.

And this time, he’s not letting her run.

📖 A story of tension beneath pressed linen, love buried beneath ambition, and the unspoken truths that haunt the ones who walked away too soon.

📝 Note from the Author: Ties That Still Bind was inspired by a Harry Potter one-shot titled “Love and All Things Fake” (James Sirius Potter), written by the incredibly talented author everlovingdeer from Wattpad.

I have always loved that one-shot, always going back to it. The way it captured emotion, subtlety, and longing stayed with me. They are a wonderful writer with a whole collection of stories worth reading.

That’s why one day, I said to myself: why not create a version of that feeling, but for someone else? This story still carries the emotional essence of that original fic—the same ache, the same questions—but with different characters, settings, and with a full closure… if you know what I mean?

But if any of you feel that it shouldn’t have been done this way, if it feels too similar, if it disrespects the original, I genuinely want to say I’m sorry. I never intended for this to feel like plagiarism. I just wanted to explore what that kind of story might look like with a different ending. Second chance, healing, and a wedding.

Please feel free to share your thoughts. If this crosses a line, I will absolutely take it down, no hesitation. I mean that. Your comments mean so much to me, and your honesty helps me grow. I never want to hurt any writer, especially not one whose work has inspired me so deeply.

This version is my love letter to that inspiration.

Chapters coming soon. 🥂🧡

Taglist:

@taebearyoongs, @mimisweetz, @belpsbelps, @lemon-stvrrr, @annisassintchaska, @barcelonaloverf1life, @landofotographyy, @ganana, @f1fantasys, @h34rts4maisey

[cranberry-queen]

Growing up, my dad HATED noise. No shouting, no screaming, no loud laughter, no music, not even excited talking when he was home. So my sister and I grew up quietly.

Now, I sit in an empty apartment, struggling to afford rent and cat food despite both my husband and I working full-time. And all I can think is how much of a privilege it is to live in a home filled with the sounds of children experiencing childhood. How my dad had something I crave but can't afford—and he didn’t even want it.

[shambhavisingh01]

Grieving a life that never got to happen

There’s a specific kind of grief for the person you were supposed to be.

The one who didn’t have to learn survival like a second language. The one who stayed soft because the world never asked them to harden.

I think about her sometimes.

Not as a memory but as a possibility that never got the chance to exist.

Sometimes it feels like she’s walking beside me, quiet, untouched

and I wonder if she would recognize what I had to become just to keep us alive.

[echoesofphilip]

"If only" has to be the saddest two words in any language.

[moonshadowmystique]

When Love Comes Too Late: A Lesson in Embracing What Matters

There’s a moment that keeps replaying in my mind—a moment I can never take back, no matter how much I wish I could. The realization that I loved him didn’t come in a grand, cinematic epiphany. It crept in slowly, with quiet whispers of "what if?" and "why didn’t I see this before?"

We were friends, or so I thought. We laughed together, shared late-night conversations, and leaned on each other through hard times. I always admired how kind he was, how he seemed to understand me in ways no one else did. But I never let my mind wander too far. We were friends, and that’s all it could be—until I realized it wasn’t.

I noticed it when he started to drift away. Maybe it was the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore, or how our conversations became shorter, less frequent. A part of me wondered if he had met someone else, and my chest tightened at the thought. That’s when it hit me. The feeling I couldn’t name before. The pull that was always there. I was in love with him.

But it was too late.

He had already moved on, found someone who saw what I hadn’t, someone who cherished him in ways I now longed to. All those moments we spent together came flooding back—times when he looked at me just a little too long, when he laughed a little too hard at my jokes, when his touch lingered. I saw it all in a different light, but it was a light that had dimmed for him.

I wanted to tell him. I thought maybe I could undo the distance that had grown between us. But what could I say? “I think I loved you all along, and I didn’t realize until you were gone”? It felt too selfish, too unfair. So I stayed quiet, and he stayed gone.

I often wonder if he knew. If, in some small way, he sensed it but got tired of waiting for me to catch up. I wish I had told him sooner. I wish I had let myself see what was right in front of me before it slipped through my fingers.

Now, I live with the bittersweet memory of what could have been. And as much as it hurts, I’ve learned something valuable from it all: love should never be ignored or taken for granted. If you feel it, even in the smallest of ways, don’t wait. Don’t assume there’s time. Because sometimes, when you finally realize the truth, it’s already too late.

And that’s a regret you carry with you, one that lingers long after the chance to make it right has passed.