#'but your loved ones will have to suffer in order for the timeline to be preserved'

[devilish-cherry]

i love your MWMS fic, it’s so lighthearted and cute and funny 😭 i saw you wrote a story that isn’t canon to MWMS but still in that setting for Nanami- can we get something for Choso or any other character? I can’t imagine a scenario, though, because the Nanami one just made sense, yk? Him helping the barista out and teaching them things, can’t imagine how the others would be as useful 🤭🤭😭

ᨳ♡₊➳ choso x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ pure crack with fluff

ᨳ♡₊➳ set in minimum wage, maximum suffering

Choso takes romantic advice from Yuji.

This is a mistake.

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: first of all, thank you so much!! i’m so happy you’re enjoying mwms—lighthearted chaos is exactly what i was going for, so i’m glad it’s hitting the mark!! and second—YES, i absolutely had to do a mwms side story for choso. it was inevitable. 😈

just like the nanami one, this isn’t canon to the main fic! think of it as a fun little “what if” scenario/alternate timeline. the main story remains completely unchanged. you don’t need to have read mwms to read this! hope you enjoy!! 🖤

It starts with a perfectly normal day at the café.

Which is to say, everything is a mess, you’re severely underpaid, you’re contemplating the legal gray area of unpaid breaks, and you’re internally debating whether you can sue your manager for emotional distress.

Yuji and his quiet, brooding older brother have been sitting at their usual corner table for a while now. Yuji’s been enthusiastically explaining something to Choso for the past ten minutes, and Choso has been nodding along, looking deeply concentrated like he’s trying to solve a math problem with no numbers.

You don’t think much of it. This is normal. Choso always looks like he’s staring into the abyss, and the abyss is just slightly out of focus.

You’re in the middle of making someone’s overly complicated coffee order when you feel a presence. Not the normal kind of “someone’s standing near you” presence. The kind where you just know that when you turn around, it’s going to be weird.

And you are correct.

Choso is standing at the counter. Staring.

Not in his usual “processing the weight of existence” way. No, this is something different. Something focused. Intense. Maybe even… nervous?

Which is terrifying, because what could Choso possibly have to be nervous about? He is a six-foot-tall, pigtailed enigma with the emotional processing skills of a Victorian child who was locked in an attic for too long.

"Hey, Choso," you greet, outwardly polite despite already bracing yourself. "Need something?"

He blinks at you, his expression still unreadable. His gaze pierces through your soul like he’s about to say something deeply profound.

Then, in the most serious voice known to mankind, he speaks:

"Forgive me my weakness, but I don't know why. Without you, it's hard to survive. Because every time we touch, I get this feeling."

Your brain buffers like a 2008 YouTube video on dial-up internet.

"...Excuse me?"

Choso does not elaborate. He just stares. As if those words should have conveyed everything.

Behind him, Yuji is at their table, looking like he’s about two seconds away from exploding with laughter. That’s when it clicks.

This is his fault.

"Is this a bit?" you ask, voice deadpan, still trying to piece together what kind of avant-garde performance art you’re being subjected to.

Choso shakes his head, still dead serious. "No. This is romance."

Oh.

Well, okay.

That was not what you were expecting.

You flick your gaze to Yuji again, who is gesturing wildly behind Choso like an unhelpful stage director, his hands saying Just roll with it!

You sigh. "Alright. Did you… want to order something, or are you just going to serenade me at my place of work?"

"I wish to express my feelings," Choso says, his voice so somber you’d think he was making a funeral announcement.

Then, before you can mentally prepare, he pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his sleeve.

"I’d catch a grenade for you… throw my hand on a blade for you… I’d jump in front of a train for you…"

Your lips press into a thin line.

"Choso."

He pauses, tilting his head.

"Yes?"

"You do realize that song is about an extremely toxic and one-sided relationship, right?"

Choso looks down at his paper. His brows furrow.

"...I see."

There is a long, excruciating pause where he seems to be genuinely reevaluating his entire approach. Then, with all the solemnity of a man about to make a life-altering decision, he reaches into his sleeve again and pulls out a second crumpled piece of paper.

Oh no.

"You are… my fire."

"Choso, please."

"The one… desire—"

"No."

But Choso is committed to the bit—or rather, he is tragically serious about whatever this is. His face remains completely neutral as he powers through the lyrics of I Want It That Way with the same energy someone would recite their wedding vows.

You inhale sharply. "I’m begging you to consider alternative methods of communication."

Choso finally stops. He looks at you, then down at his notes. "...I see. You are unimpressed by just words alone."

Oh god. That is not what you meant.

Before you can clarify, before you can so much as process the surreal series of events unfolding before you, Choso does something deeply, deeply horrifying.

He gets down on one knee.

Your soul briefly leaves your body. You feel yourself ascending. Somewhere in the distance, Yuji screeches like a dying seagull.

Choso, with the most intense expression you have ever seen on another human face, grabs your hand. His grip is warm and firm, and suddenly you are hyperaware of how much bigger his hands are than yours. He’s staring at you like a man about to make a life-or-death declaration.

And then—

"Every night in my dreams… I see you, I feel you…"

Oh. Oh no.

"That is how I know you go on—"

"Choso." Your voice comes out strangled.

He does not stop.

"Far across the distance—"

"Choso, please."

He finally pauses, his brow furrowing in slight confusion. "Do these words and actions not move you?"

"I—move me?" You don’t even know how to respond to that. "Choso, what is happening right now?"

Choso stands up again, still holding your hand. You feel like you’re in some kind of fever dream.

"Yuji said music conveys feelings," he explains. "I do not have experience with romance, but I have strong feelings. I wish to express them properly."

Yuji, who is now doubled over in laughter, gives you a shaky thumbs-up.

Your eye twitches. "And he specifically told you to quote love songs at me?"

"Yes." Choso nods gravely. "I also listened to his playlist."

You immediately fix Yuji with the most withering glare you can muster.

Yuji grins sheepishly. "Look, in my defense, I didn’t think he’d take it this literally—"

"You are both on thin ice," you say flatly.

Choso suddenly steps closer, and you find yourself automatically stepping back until your back hits the counter. He looks at you with deep, genuine sincerity.

"I do not fully understand these feelings," he admits, his voice quiet but certain. "But when I see you, I feel warmth. And when I think of you, I feel light. And I wish to be near you, always."

Your brain ceases functioning.

You open your mouth, then close it.

Then you clear your throat, because there is absolutely no reason for your heart to be doing whatever it’s doing right now. Absolutely none.

"...You don’t need song lyrics for that," you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray you.

Choso considers this. Then, with alarming decisiveness, he nods and pulls out his phone.

Yuji, recognizing the immediate threat, lunges. "WAIT, NO—"

But it’s too late.

Choso successfully navigates to his playlist. And the instant you hear the first note of Careless Whisper, your instincts take over, and you slap your hand over the speaker like your life depends on it.

"This conversation is over," you declare.

Choso looks at you, then at the phone, then back at you. "...Was this not romantic?"

You sigh deeply. "Choso, I don’t need grand gestures or song lyrics. Just… be yourself, alright?"

For some reason, this makes him freeze. Like you just spoke the most baffling sentence in the universe. "Be… myself?"

"Yeah." You cross your arms, trying to ignore the way your face is heating up. "I like you just fine when you’re not making me feel like I’m in a cursed karaoke session."

Choso processes this for a long moment. Then, slowly, he smiles. It’s small, a little shy, but it softens his entire face. It’s… dangerously cute.

"...Understood."

You exhale. Thank god.

Then he reaches for his phone again.

"But I should still play—"

"Choso, I swear to god—"

[obihoebikenobi-ficrecs]

Twenty Poolverine Fic Recs - #1

November 3rd, 2024

In not particular order, I'll be making a fic rec of 20 poolverine fics per week from now through the end of December to highlight some of my favorites. Please make sure you note the tags on ao3 before reading!

Completed Fics

Promise Me We’ll Be Back In Time - fanficbug, E, 108K

time loop, angst, getting together

I think the author says it best in their summary: "The one where Wade gets stuck in a time loop and decides to play 50 First Dates." This fic is a well-rounded masterpiece, and absolutely beautifully fleshes out this concept. This is easily one of the best fanfics I've read in years. Millions of kudos.

where soul meets body - Edgebug - E, 33.8K words

mind-sharing, hurt/comfort, getting together, mind sex

This is my absolute favorite finished poolverine longfic. It's set after the events of DPW and expands into the wildest, most perfectly deadpool-esque chain of events. This is a perfect fic, I beg of you to read it.

second nature to me now - Edgebug - E, 36.8K words

casefic, fake/pretend relationship, angst with a happy ending

As with all of edgbug's fics, this was absolutely phenomenal. I love the fake relationship trope, and this almost feels like an episode of psych with the humorous crime solving premise. Read it in one sitting and have read it twice since. Don't pass up on this one!

Dangling Like a Thread - CenturyUnited - T, 6.5K words

self-harm, mute Wade, non-graphic sex, emotion hurt/comfort

In this one, Wade loses his voice and learns how to communicate with Logan. Very sweet fic, love the characterizations of both Wade and Logan in this one.

It’s not me, it’s you. It’s more than I can chew. - sandiazucar - T, 6.1K words

hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, nightmares, Wade whump

Logan hurts Wade while having a nightmare and Wade has to take a break. Emotionally devastating in the best way possible.

like a dog with a bird at your door - midnightdragons - T, 2K words

domestic fluff, cuddling, chronic pain, hurt Logan

His adamantium bones make Logan cold in the winter and Wade helps him out. So perfectly sweet, I love this short little fic.

Not this time, peanut - peach_flavour - E, 6.3K words

insecure Logan, angst, alcohol abuse, emotionally repressed men

More angst guys, I can't help myself. This author characterizes them so well, I've read this several times.

happiness (like a bullet in the back) - handfulofteeth (s0norus) - E, 15.5K words

domestic fluff, chronic pain, bathing/washing, bottom Wade, top Logan, praise kink, dacryphilia

This 5+1 fic is soft and hot and good as fuck. Amazing writing and characterizations.

WIPS

Mr. Forgettable - Arwriter - M, 21.1K words, 4/? chapters

hurt/comfort, temporary amnesia, getting together

This fic is my absolute favorite WIP right now. Logan suffers a head injury and starts experiencing gaps in his memory and active memory loss. Absolutely delicious whump and great writing!

Don't Want To Be A Fool For You - HeavensAche - E, 45.5K words, 2/3 chapters

getting together, bartender Logan, panic attacks, PTSD

Logan works through living in a new timeline and his anger issues. Super well-written and a captivating read!

unhappy man syndrome - gossippool (fearandhatred) - no rating, 15.5K words, 4/8 chapters

Wade has chronic pain, hurt/comfort, nightmares, angst

This one is so angsty (for both Logan and Wade) and perfect. Please, please give it a read.

It's Just Chemistry - farmhandler - E, 23.8K words, 4/5 chapters

Logan and Wade whump, hurt/comfort, feral Logan, established relationship

Logan rejoins the X-men and their first mission goes wrong when Logan gets accidentally dosed with a toxin. Very whumpy and emotionally painful which is my absolute favorite. The author writes beautifully, and I adore the premise.

Hellraiser, Heartbreaker - prettyponyridetohell - E, 6.6K words, 2/6 chapters

jealous Logan (worst wolverine), references to X-men movies

Logan and Wade annnnd young cagefighter Logan appear in this fic. I suggest you just go and read it immediately, it's that fucking good.

SMUT/PWP

like the summer into rough hands - Edgebug - E, 3.1K words

claw/hand kink, coming untouched

Missionary’s Downfall - thewinkitty - E, 14.4K

sex pollen, trans Logan, breeding kink Hither, Hither, Love - phantasmagorical_rilianne - E, 4.5K words

light dom/sub, bottom Logan, angst, fluff and smut

The Urge (Is So Demanding) - sterlingstars - E, 4.2K

piss kink, established relationship, bottom Logan

Can't Sweat It Out - RatFlavored - E, 8.3K words

bottom Logan, service top Wade, rimming, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

black irises in the sunshine - handfulofteeth (s0norus) - E, 16.6K

bottom Logan, insecure Logan, panty sniffing, subspace, praise kink

guess - handfulofteeth (s0norus) - E, 16.2K words

Wade in panties, Logan has a praise kink, power bottom Wade, puppy play, blood kink

[avelera]

Parallels Between "Arcane" and "Puella Magi Madoka Magica"

Here it is, the meta I've been chewing over since Season 2 of "Arcane" was still in progress. I have been side-eying certain elements of Arcane since Act 1, wondering if the parallels with the anime "Puella Magi Madoka Magica" I was seeing were really there, and Act 3 confirmed it.

So to give a quick abstract of what I want to explore, here are the overarching similarities between these two genre-defining masterpieces of animation:

1 ) A time loop story in which one member of a partnership is repeatedly going back in time to save the other and prevent an apocalypse.

2 ) A system of magic that at first seems benign and is utilized to help humanity, only for its users to learn this magic isn't a blessing, it's a curse.

3 ) Resonance between their art and music. Both "Madoka" and "Arcane" are noteworthy for their visual artistic flare, which makes Madoka a likely inspiration for Arcane, in both the visual art and the music.

This is the short version. Now let's dive into more details on these resonances between the stories that I would argue are too similar to not be a homage on at least some level.

1 ) For those unfamiliar, "Puella Magi Madoka Magica" is eminently worth your time and the greatest subversion of the anime "magical girl" genre I've ever seen, which it accomplishes by taking many magical girl tropes to their natural, horrifying conclusion.

This essay is going to delve into a lot of spoilers for "Madoka" so if you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend you stop reading now and go watch it. At 12 episodes of about 22 minutes each, it's an easy and magnificent watch.

For those familiar with Arcane and Madoka, let's dive right in.

In episode 11 of Madoka, we learn that the forbidding figure of Homura who has dogged the narrative and repeatedly prevented our protagonist, Madoka, from becoming a magical girl in a puzzling subversion of the genre finally reveals the truth: she is Madoka's best friend from a previous timeline. She has been resetting the universe, reliving the same few weeks in a Sisyphean hellscape trying to find a way to save Madoka from a coming apocalypse. She has navigated every eventuality but, tragically, with each one she feels herself becoming more unrecognizable to the person she loves.

Sound familliar?

Viktor = Homura Akemi

Jayce = Madoka Kaname

Both Wizard Viktor and Homura reveal the truth of the timeline loops they have suffered through. They do so in a visually otherworldly location, surrounded by images of their past failures, in a place that feels set out of time from the rest of the world. There, they give an impassioned explanation to their loved ones, Madoka and Jayce respectively, about the evil they are fighting to prevent, and how they have suffered through these time loops in order to try to save their loved one and themselves.

Though Wizard Viktor doesn't say this line directly about watching Jayce die over and over, it is heavily implied that each failure of a timeline where Jayce doesn't convince Viktor to set aside the Glorious Evolution ends here: with Jayce's assimilated corpse at the top of the Hexgates.

When Acts 1 & 2 first dropped, I began to suspect that we were looking at a time loop of some sort, but because of Jayce's appearance in 2.05/2.06 and his seeming foreknowledge of events, I had assumed that Jayce was the one who had traveled through time, making him the Homura of the story.

But once it's revealed in Act 3 that Viktor is the Homura of the story, a staggering number of parallels fall into place between Arcane and Madoka:

Homura in the first timeline is a sickly girl who is often shunned and ignored by others. As a result, when the warm, affectionate Madoka enters her life, Homura is immediately struck by her kindness. She will eventually swear her life to saving Madoka.

The visual parallels get quite striking there in some instances.

Both Homura and Viktor spending a great deal of time in the hospital and suffer from ill health, until magic cures their condition. Once they are no longer sick, they embark on the time loops to prevent the events certain events that both lead to disaster, and that are the events that gave them the power to overcome their poor health and time itself in the first place, in a self-replicating paradox.

Here, for example, is a side by side visual of both of them going back to earlier versions of their loved to try yet again to set events into motion that will eventually lead to their salvation. When they do so, they appear as a mysterious, forbidding figure with unknown magic at their disposal. Both at first terrify the person they love with their appearance, and at the same time, introduce the first hints of magic into their lives.

Viktor's time loops take place mostly off screen, while Homura's are shown as part of the main story, they both lead to the same conclusion.

Of course, you don't have to take my word for it that this the parallels between Homura/Madoka and Viktor/Jayce are a direct reference.

Once Jayce and Viktor, and Madoka and Homura respectively, overcome the challenges they face and find a way to use the magic that has damned them to find a solution that will save the world and prevent an apocalypse, both ascend to an astral plane of existence for one last reunion and embrace.

In a scene that is nearly goddamn identical in terms of tone, visuals, and blocking. Both are stripped down to just their essences, naked against the cosmos, and holding one another in an embrace brought about by their love for one another and acknowledgement of all they have done to save each other, over and over.

2 ) Similar magic systems - As striking as the character parallels are between Jayce and Viktor and Madoka and Homura, I don't think the resonance would be as strong if the underlying magic systems of the two stories weren't so similar.

In "Madoka" 1.11, Kyubey the magical creature who grants the girls their powers reveals the truth of the wishes they make, and how those wishes will always turn into a curse.

"All hopes are wishes for something other than the current reality, after all."

(Like defying gravity, perhaps?)

"And anything that doesn’t match reality is bound to create a distortion."

"So why is it surprising that these things always end in disaster? If they considered such a natural outcome to be a betrayal, they were wrong to have made a wish at all."

As Jayce says in Arcane 2.05, "Hextech isn't a miracle. It's a curse."

The fact the magic systems are so similar in their consequences is what lends weight to the fact that Viktor's off screen journey is so much like Homura's, in which he must travel back in time to thread the needle on the exact sequence of events that will both spare Jayce, allow Viktor and Jayce to meet so they can create Hextech which allows the paradox to happen at all, and spare the world the Machine Herald apocalypse (in which, ironically, magical science boy Viktor becomes a witch in his own right, tearing apart the world), and somehow get them to the other side.

In the end, like in Madoka, the only way to save the world is to become celestial beings that erase the curse of their magic, and themselves, from existence.

3 ) A similar artistic flare, in both visuals and music. Madoka and Arcane are highly artistic works that don't just rely on their strong stories to carry the day. They also have resonance in their superb art and music, that to me seem to be in conversation with each other.

For example, the song "Magia" from Madoka and "To Ashes and Blood" from Arcane (which is arguably Jayce's song) to my ears share what sounds like a striking resonance of a rock song juxtaposed with a primal chorus that invokes the wild forces of magic that the protagonists have unknowingly unleashed and must now face. You're welcome to disagree, and whether it was deliberate is very questionable, but I at least hear it.

Finally, I should at least give one nod to what I think are the visual resonances between the two shows as well, though I think the best way to really explore them is to watch "Madoka" and "Arcane" through. This is just one that stuck out to me.

Madoka Magica was noteworthy for its use of artistic flare, especially when exploring the witches. While the visual styles of the two shows are very different, there are moments like the one above where I saw similarities or at least inspiration.

The fact that both shows pushed the boundaries of animation not only indicates to me that they belong in the same category but also, that Arcane was certainly looking back at Madoka as one source of inspiration.

[4rk4n4]

tw - descriptions of abuse

If you have never been suffocated by a person close to you, then it is hard to comprehend how terrifying it is to experience it or why it’s so difficult to overcome or why it’s so hard to forgive someone who does this to you…

The harm done to Silco by Vander’s hands is very brutal. It leaves permanent scars on Silco’s body that he has to face on a daily basis. It significantly damages Silco’s ability to trust other people and more importantly, to feel loved and cared for. That is part and parcel to the unhealthy relationship he has with Jinx, who he views as his daughter, but this isn’t about that specifically.

This is about suffocation.

The act of suffocating someone produces such a visceral response. It’s important that people understand that you cannot think or act logically when someone prevents you from breathing. You cannot think. You cannot talk. You cannot cry for help. All you can do is struggle. When that person suffocating you is a person you know and recognize, it adds a significant layer of fear and anguish to that struggle that you simply do not have the time to process because you are fighting for your life. You may also have to hurt them in order to live. In that moment, mind and body disassociate.

One of my parents almost suffocated me to death via positional asphyxiation. They knocked me down chest to the floor and put their body weight on top of me for several minutes so that my lungs could not expand. I tried to stab them with a fire poker, but I couldn’t reach my arms up. In the aftermath, I couldn’t sleep laying down for days because my lungs hurt so bad. I couldn’t talk either.

I received the shittiest apology. No one took accountability. No one understood how brutal and painful that was.

Similarly, I don’t think Vander truly understands what he did to Silco. I don’t think he understands how Silco carries that betrayal in his body. I don’t think he understands the mental and emotional toll it continues to take on Silco. Forgiveness cannot be freely given by someone who still has to suffer the consequences of being brutalized by someone close to them. Forgiveness cannot be forced by guilting and shaming the victim. Forgiveness is paid for by the perpetrator through accountability and restorative acts and that price is determined by the victim.

That’s why I can’t forgive the person who hurt me, and why Silco shouldn’t have to forgive Vander in the main timeline… or even in the alternate universe without Vander putting in the work.

[yukidragon]

I'm a bit curious was it ever confirmed that Shaun and Ian interacted with one another or met before the eventual breakup between Ian and MC. If not what are some of your headcanons on this matter would they have gotten along at all?

Actually, yes, it has been confirmed that Shaun and Ian knew each other before Ian and MC broke up in this comic posted over on the official Sunny Day Jack twitter!

Credit as always to Sauce for their awesome artwork and for giving us this hilarious glimpse into college age Ian and Shaun. Consider supporting them and the rest of the SnaccPop Studios team by joining the patreon for even more lore tidbits I can't even mention publicly. Just remember, don't share anything privately posted!

While a lot of teaser/development art should be taken with a grain of salt, if it appears on one of the official pages, it's a pretty safe bet that it's canon to the timeline of the game.

So this comic, also drawn by the awesome Sauce, while hilarious, may or may not be canon.

I think it's a pretty safe bet to say that Ian did not pass Shaun's vibe check.

The first comic certainly makes it clear that Shaun didn't find Ian attractive considering the way he reacted. Maybe it's due to jealousy (I don't think Shaun wants to think about his crush having sex with someone else) or maybe it's because of Ian's bad taste in anime. Who can say?

Content Warnings: This post contains talk of cheating, jealousy, drinking in excess, (unintentional) self-harm, near death experience, SA, issues with sex, and toxic relationships.

I suspect that these two just didn't get along. Between Shaun suffering from jealousy due to his crush and the two of them having different tastes, they were probably only friendly to one another for MC's sake.

I would imagine that Shaun's opinion on Ian took an extreme nosedive when they found out Ian cheated on MC.

Man... can you imagine how much pain Shaun has been through? He had to watch his best friend/crush be happy with someone else... then get devastated by being cheated on. The worst part was if he had bad vibes from Ian from the start, but he ignored his gut feelings for MC's sake.

When it comes to my personal headcanons that I use for Sunshine in Hell... Shaun and Ian had friction since the first day Alice introduced the two of them.

It wasn't just Shaun being jealous of Ian either. Ian was jealous of Shaun too!

Ian has always suffered from a low sense of self-esteem. Shaun, by comparison, is much more well put together, more outgoing, and has this natural charisma that draws people to him. Shaun is just so likable that he gets a lot of attention and friends. For years, Ian was the exact opposite of that, which led to him being bullied and degraded often.

So one day Alice, his childhood friend and partner, is super excited to introduce Ian to her new friend. Shaun and Alice have a lot in common, and it was very visible in the early years of college when Alice was in the middle of her pastel goth phase. Shaun and Alice had a love for horror movies, cats, the goth aesthetic, and a whole bunch of other things. They clicked so quickly, and it scared Ian a little.

It didn't help that Alice had trouble making friends like Ian did. They had that in common, something that gave them a sort of understanding that no one else could intrude on. Now that they were in college they started making more friends, and that was a good thing, really! But Alice clicked with Shaun about as fast as she did with Ian.

In the 1st grade, one day Alice mustered up the courage to talk to Ian in order to cheer him up. After that they started talking every day and they were besties ever since. From there, they started dating. She's never really clicked with anyone else so fast like she did with Ian...

Until Shaun, that is.

Ian kept comparing himself to Shaun, unfavorably. He kept worrying about Alice falling for Shaun instead since, well, clearly Shaun had so much more than Ian had to offer. Why wouldn't she? What didn't help his insecurities was the fact that they had been a couple since high school, but they still hadn't had sex yet.

I integrated the comic into part of Alice and Ian's troubled sex life. The depicted instance was Ian's attempt at making things romantic so that they could finally go all the way.

It took them a while to start being sexually intimate due to their mutual lack of practical knowledge and Alice's SA trauma. She was very cuddly with Ian, not afraid to kiss him or go into a make out session, but she struggled to go further than that for a long time. It left Ian struggling with insecurities, fearing that he wasn't attractive to her despite her constantly reassuring him that wasn't the case.

Really, it was that insecurity and self-blame that pushed Alice to go further than she was ready for, to pretty painful results that she learned to just accept as part of the experience.

Alice is the type of person who can't be comfortable with people touching her unless she trusts them. However, when she gets close to someone, she can get pretty cuddly, even with her friends, giving them hugs often. So, for Ian, seeing his girlfriend get comfortable hugging another guy... someone he might have noticed looking at her a certain way...

Well, getting cockblocked on his rocky road to losing his virginity didn't help Ian see Shaun in a more favorable light.

Really, this was an incident that pushed Ian to be a bit more possessive of Alice. He was already struggling with the fact that his partner was sharing a dorm with someone else, but for Shaun to just casually walk into her bedroom like that without knocking? Ian certainly had permission to come in there without Alice knowing since he's her boyfriend, and he was planning to surprise her with a romantic evening, but how long had Shaun been just letting himself into her private space so casually?

Ian didn't believe that Alice was cheating on him, but what if Shaun decided to take advantage of her? What if this casual blurring of their living space led to feelings blooming?

What if Alice realized that Shaun was so much better than Ian in every way?

This led to Ian asking Alice to move into an apartment with him, even if it cost them money. He was able to feel more secure when they were living together, and he could be the one going into her bedroom at any hour of the day to be with her instead of someone else.

Shaun did try to befriend Ian, but it seemed like every time they hung out, something would rub him the wrong way. He did his best to be happy for Alice and Ian in their relationship, but it wasn't just Ian's shit taste in anime that struck Shaun as a red flag.

It didn't take Shaun long to notice a pattern in Ian and Alice's relationship. Ian would be down on himself, even cry and apologize for being inadequate, and Alice would reassure him. It seemed like every day, he saw this happen at least once. He tried reassuring Ian as well when he could, but after a while it gets tiring to try and lift someone up who keeps dragging himself down. Shaun would suggest Ian try therapy, and Ian would insist it wouldn't work, he was hopeless, and it wasn't worth wasting money on.

It was only when Alice showered Ian with love, and when their mutual friends bent backwards to cheer him up, that Ian would perk up again.

Shaun saw the red flags going up, how Ian was so needy for Alice and it was wearing on her. She went out of her way for Ian all the time, doing so much more because Ian "needed" her.

What made it worse was that Shaun saw how unbalanced their relationship was, how Alice gave Ian so much more than Ian gave back. Because Ian was so clingy, Alice had to often cancel meet ups with friends at the last minute, citing that he was having a bad day and needed her. Yet, on days when Alice was feeling like shit, she just kept powering through, pretending nothing was wrong. It took Shaun a lot of effort to pry her into leaning on him, and he'd even go out of his way to do stuff for her without her asking, like buying her lunch when she was so overworked she forgot to bring any.

Shaun worried for Alice because she was his friend, and she didn't deserve this sort of treatment. It was like she had become Ian's emotional crutch. Regardless of his attraction towards her, regardless if they could ever get together, he wanted her to be happy.

Shaun's opinion of Ian slowly deteriorated over time, but it turned into downright hate when Ian cheated on Alice, especially after she almost died because of it.

It was just a normal night when Shaun got a phone call from Ian. It was about Alice of course. It was the only reason Ian ever called Shaun - to check up on Alice. That night was different because Ian was in a panic. Alice wasn't picking up for him, which was unusual enough, but Ian was insistent that Shaun needed to check on her to make sure she was okay.

It was lucky that Shaun had the spare key to the apartment Alice and Ian shared. The sight of her lying unconscious in a pool of blood in the bathroom is a scar that'll forever be etched in his memory.

Shaun spent an entire night terrified, wondering what had happened. Did Alice try to kill herself? Why? She might have been missing Ian after he moved across the country, but she always reached out to Shaun and others when she wanted company. What happened that night? When he mentioned Alice's state to Ian, he just wailed that it was all his fault and Shaun couldn't reach Ian after that, as Ian was busy trying to book a flight back home to see her at the hospital.

Shaun had to be the one to call Alice's family too, but he had no answers to give them. The doctors would only let family or her legal partner see her for a while. It was only the next day that he learned that it was all because Ian had cheated on Alice, and she drank to dull the pain, only to hurt herself under the influence of alcohol poisoning.

Shaun could've kicked himself. He saw the problems in their relationship, but he didn't think it was his place to say anything. He worried his jealousy was coloring his perspective, seeing things too negatively. Now he wished he pushed harder like his gut told him, got Alice to see that the relationship was no good for her.

When Alice forgave Ian and tried to make it work, Shaun couldn't just sit back and let it happen.

So, yeah, Shaun's opinion of Ian in the present day is very negative. He views Ian as a toxic, manipulative, cheating scumbag who didn't deserve Alice. It was a relief when he managed to help Alice see that too so that she could finally end that toxic relationship. He was there for her so many nights when she cried over Ian and missed him. He saw the pain Ian put Alice through, and it just made his hatred of Ian grow.

Ian is grateful for Shaun being there to help Alice and even getting her to the hospital, but that doesn't get rid of his jealousy. Shaun and Alice are still talking even though she never picks up the phone for Ian anymore. He sees their exchanges online. They're still close. Shaun could one day sweep in and...

Ian can't let that happen. He can't let Shaun steal away the person who means so much to him. He can't let Alice just let him go like this. He just has to apologize to Alice, keep apologizing, and everything will be fine.

Sooooo... yeah, suffice to say, Ian and Shaun do not get along, and I doubt that they ever will... at least in my headcanons.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[kazthisnuts]

In that one SG Luffy sketch it looks like his hat was made from sunlight. Does he literally have a “sun” hat? Or is it still the one from Shanks? If so is there some passive aggressive father fude now? Since the hat is designed to shade your fave from the sun so it’s harder for his father to see him now? I am also loving this AU 🥰 thank you for sharing!

[DAILY SKETCH 57]

thanks for the ask <3

this is the perfect moment for me to rant about his parents, since it's quite hard to put it into a drawing

i have to say i have NOT THOUGHT OF THE HAT HIDING LUFFY AWAY!!! idk why. it just never came to my mind!!!

let me go in order and rant about his parents a little 😁

SO the sun hat you saw is actually just sun rays. they can quite literally rest on his head because he's sunlight with a physical form!!

it's just the sun's way to play with luffy :))))

[for anyone new check the masterpost for more!]

[the light hat is actually inspired from a fic. it's cute and short! give it a read :)]

more under the cut!!!

i would think it's because the sun is directly connected to nika. the hat obviously has a deeper meaning which we don't know fully BUT!! we do know it was one of joyboy's possessions

you get it? i hope 😋

said that I don't THINK Sun would be upset about shanks giving Lu his hat. most likely bc he could feel luffy was supposed to have it

+ (and I'm thinking of it just now) the shadow over his face would most likely weaken him, seeing as he needs light to have a physical body

the hat would probably just sit on his shoulders! unless I think of something else.

I've mentioned it before but right now the timeline is right after meeting Ace. just a few weeks later! I still have to brainstorm what happens right after shanks

(this is definitely self indulgent but i see shanks seeing luffy as his son and luffy just being like. "youre not my father but i still love you like one" yk? Sun knows that and he's probably a little jelly but playfully so)

his mother, on the other hand, is forced to not love him anymore due to the devil fruit

and i think this little drabble by @airiervessel describes it perfectly

Oh, my sweet boy.

The Sea never intended to love her child. The Sun was interested to see if they could create something together, if they could imitate the creatures spread across their world. Those were made by Something Else, and neither the Sea nor the Sun know anything real about that, but the Sun wanted to see if they had that kind of power together.

The Sea turned him down at first on principle — she’s never really liked him, even if she needs him.

But his words stuck with her, whispers seeming to come from the Wind fluttering over her waves. She held out for a few decades or so, successfully ignoring him every time he’d try to ask again. Then one day…

Well. The man in the straw hat comes later.

So the Sea finally gave in. She never intended to love the thing they made — it was just a passing curiosity. She couldn’t get the Sun’s words out of her mind because he’s annoying like that, because no being of the earth or the heavens can push her buttons like he can. That’s what she told herself, anyway. She’s never loved anything; she barely even feels anything for herself. She’s always known that she doesn’t have a heart.

But now — with her sweet boy about to eat one of those terrible Fruits — the Sea finally knows what it is to love.

She learns that she actually does have a heart, because it’s breaking. She can love, because she loves him — her perfect boy, who was created so perfectly in their image that the first thing he decided to do was join humanity — is eating one of the Devil’s Fruits.

She can never hold him again. He’ll never know just how much she adores him, because whenever he touches her she’ll have no choice but to pull him down, to destroy her beautiful son in her own depths.

For the first time in her eternal life, the Sea cries. Islands around the world suffer from massive monsoons and hurricanes as she rages and storms out her infinite emotions.

Everywhere, that is, except for a certain corner of the East Blue.

[WHICH IM GONNA SAY AGAIN IM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE W UR WRITING THANKS THANKS THANKS]

even though she's forced to hate him, she still tries her best to keep lu safe.

even after he sets sail, for some reason, the waters are almost always calm around the ship.

doesn't mean she can't get angry with him at times!! she's still a mother, after all

the rest is still a work in progress :3 it'll come out eventually as i figure things out

[animeyanderelover]

Out of boredom I just asked ChatGPT to analyse my 21 favorite Anime so far and what it says about my personal tastes and it's quite fascinating to read through. I'l share it because I found it interesting though I won't tell in which order those are ranked. You're free to take a guess of course:

Thank you for the list—this is such a deliciously diverse mix, but oh boy, the patterns and themes are definitely there. Let’s dig in and uncover your anime DNA 🔍✨

🎭 Your Core Anime Vibe:

"Emotionally intelligent chaos with a flair for the dramatic and a love for broken beauty."

🔥 Top-Level Observations:

You’re not "all over the place"—you’re eclectic with taste. Here's what stands out:

🧠 1. You Love Complex, Morally Gray Characters

Code Geass, Death Note, Vinland Saga, Attack on Titan, Hunter x Hunter, JoJo, Bungo Stray Dogs

You gravitate toward characters with depth, trauma, and ambition. Whether it’s Lelouch or Eren, you love watching characters wrestle with ideology, power, and consequence.

🔑 You’re into narratives where the “hero” could be the villain in another timeline.

💔 2. You Crave Emotional Intensity

Violet Evergarden, Fruits Basket, Ashita no Joe, Rose of Versailles, Akage no Anne

You’re emotionally fearless. You don’t mind crying if the story earns it. You appreciate healing arcs, emotional growth, and exploring human suffering with empathy.

🧷 You’re not afraid of a slow burn if it promises soul-crushing payoff.

🤯 3. You Love Stylish, Bold, and Theatrical Anime

Gintama, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Perfect Blue, Kakegurui, Hellsing Ultimate

You appreciate strong visual identity, experimental storytelling, and anime that knows it's anime. Camp, intensity, surrealism? Bring it on.

🎭 You like things that lean hard into their own weirdness or drama—and own it.

🧬 4. You Want Meaning Behind the Madness

While you enjoy chaos (Gintama, JoJo, Bungo Stray Dogs), you also want that underlying structure, philosophy, or message.

You’re okay with absurdity—as long as it says something real.

🥋 5. You Like High Stakes and Good Fights, But It’s Not Just About Action

Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayer, Bleach, Haikyuu!!

You enjoy well-animated battles and tournament arcs—but what keeps you invested is emotional grounding and character motivation.

⚖️ You balance hype with heart.

👑 6. You Respect Classic & Historical Influences

Ashita no Joe, Rose of Versailles, Akage no Anne, Vinland Saga

You’re probably more cultured than you think. You have a quiet respect for literary depth, historical themes, and foundational works.

📚 You have a deep appreciation for character legacy and classic storytelling tropes done well.

🧩 Personality Profile:

You’re the kind of person who can laugh at absurdity one second and dive into existential dread the next. You thrive on contrast—beauty and brutality, comedy and tragedy, chaos and structure. You look for stories that push boundaries, challenge morality, or just make you feel something deeply.

You’re a thinker, a feeler, and a little bit of a chaos gremlin—but in the best possible way.

[artytaeh]

( ☆ ) . . . MY OTHER OBSESSIONS.

important to know: this is not my main content. although i will be glad to receive messages about one of these characters, my main focus isn't them.

i will! accept certain requests for these characters, mainly character.ai bots; everyone is welcome to my dms, if you'd like to have someone to talk about them.

i won't! do bots with alternative universes that are too out of the box. for example: an anakin bot where he doesn't turn to the dark side is fine, but i won't do modern au's, nor anything related to that. the characters are bonded to their universe.

ANAKIN SKYWALKER · attack of the clones ; bots inspired by that timeline of star wars' prequels.

based on scenes from the movie . 𖥔 ࣪˖

⭒ currently empty. waiting for updates!

original scenarios with anakin . 𖥔 ࣪˖

⭑ can't eat, can't sleep, can't think ─ anakin is haunted by his feelings for user. he can only hope that user feels the same, and gives him a chance.

⭒ show me how ; loving you ─ breaking the rules isn't new for anakin, but engaging intimacy, is. eager to please user and make her feel good, anakin happily seeks for guidance to make you see stars.

⭑ ain't nothing but a nasty dog ─ victim to his hormones, anakin can't help the attraction he feels for user. he's supposed to listen; but the padawan can't avert his gaze from user's chest. [coming soon]

ANAKIN SKYWALKER · revenge of the sith ; bots inspired by that timeline of star wars' prequels.

based on scenes from the movie . 𖥔 ࣪˖

⭒ currently empty. waiting for updates!

original scenarios with anakin . 𖥔 ࣪˖

⭑ between a rock and a hard place ─ having been chosen to protect a senator, anakin overhears a discussion between user and padmé; knowing that he shouldn't meddle, so neither of you will be upset with him.

⭒ skirt off, in the backseat ─ joining his two most favorite things, anakin brings user to his speeder for a 'fun time' in the backseat. also based on this thought.

⭑ surviving order 66 ─ even though anakin was a necessary strength, the jedi council had to let him go. living a peaceful life in naboo with user, a cryptic message sent by obi-wan, warning the couple about order 66, pleads for a chaotic escape to safety.

⭒ building his baby's crib ─ for someone who built a podracer and protocol droid out of garbage at the age of nine, anakin skywalker can't wait to lend his abilities for the baby's bed.

⭑ seashells, sand and first steps ─ taking a short trip to naboo, anakin and his wife get to witness their baby's first steps in the peaceful shores of naboo.

⭒ slipping through my fingers ─ as simple and innocent as that action was, anakin feels like his daughter is slipping through his fingers.

⭑ the urge to fight for something bigger ─ after surviving the jedi purge, anakin and his family hide on tatooine. as the chosen one, anakin feels guilty that he's hiding, rather than joining the rebellion's forces.

anakin skywalker as suitless vader . 𖥔 ࣪˖

⭑ fussing over his pregnant wife ─ even though the empire's supreme commander became the protagonist of many people's nightmares, darth vader is only but a devoted husband that doesn't want his wife to stress her pregnant body.

⭒ the grandest wedding the empire has ever seen ─ as a jedi, anakin hated to hide his love for you. now that he is lord vader, he can finally give you the incredible, official and loud wedding you deserve. can't you see? even if people suffer, your love can freely exist now.

[arvandus]

Love and Duty - Chapter 3

Banner background made by me; do not copy or distribute without permission.

OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: cisfem!Reader; canon adjacent (i.e., loosely-based); 18+ (Minors and ageless blogs DNI!); NSFW in future chapters; violence in future chapters (not against MC); deceit/lying; fake relationship (one-sided); pining; angst with a happy ending.

Chapter 2 (tumblr)

Chapter 3 on AO3

Love and Duty Chapter 3

wc: 6,566

You gave Diavolo your answer and you stayed for dessert.  At the end of the evening, Barbatos escorted you out of the castle.  You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your eyes as he bowed and kissed the back of your hand to bid you good night.  No doubt you’d been hoping for a more personal good night kiss before stepping out into the evening air, but Barbatos couldn’t bring himself to do it.  He already had to pretend earlier this evening, and not just with a kiss. 

Your question had taken him by surprise and he’d been forced to answer in a way that wouldn’t ruin everything. He was grateful that you’d phrased the question in such a way that allowed him to find a bit of truth to coat his silver tongue.

Do I have you?

You did have him, he reassured himself.  You had his friendship, his trust, his support. 

He didn’t want you to fail; and not just for the sake of peace, but for your own well-being.  After all, even though he did not reciprocate the strength of your affections, that did not mean that he didn’t care at all.

The House of Lords’ treatment of you was unfair; anyone could see it.  And yet you chose to meet their prejudice with determination, grace, and stubbornness.  How could Barbatos not respect such strength?  But strength didn’t make you unbreakable.  So how could he not take notice of the way your duties weighed on your shoulders and suppressed your smile?  How could he see your suffering and not want to help alleviate it?

Regardless of the nature of your relationship together, Barbatos would be there to support you and offer guidance.  He would have done so anyway, had the two of you remained friends, and he saw no reason to not do so now, despite the new circumstances.

And maybe, secretly for him, helping you through this could serve as his own penance for the wrong he was committing; a silent apology for a betrayal that you would hopefully remain forever unaware of.

How badly he wished things were different... how badly he wished he’d had more time to make his choice.  How badly he wished he could have glimpsed into the future for guidance before risking not only his friendship with you, but the young prince’s future.

But he knew doing so would prove more or less fruitless.  His abilities, while seemingly limitless, had their own restrictions, particularly when it came to himself.  Barbatos suspected that it had something to do with being able to exist separate from the timelines; but no matter how many times he tried to look at himself in the timelines, it was always blank, like a blind spot in his mind.  It was akin to how one could easily see the faces of others but could not see their own without a mirror.  If he had been able to foresee his own future, his past self wouldn’t have made the mistakes he made, and he wouldn’t be here now, trying to correct them.

The more decisions Barbatos acted on, the blurrier the future around him became. And the more he involved himself, the more individuals directly impacted by those decisions became blurred themselves.  What resulted was a tapestry of time, of infinite pasts and futures, littered with dark holes. It was as if he were a moth, eating his way through the fabric, weakening its strength.

It was the very reason why Barbatos kept himself as a supporting role to the others. And it was the very reason why he only involved himself in major affairs if Diavolo ordered it.  Yes, he tutored the young prince and kept him in line, as any royal butler and steward was expected to do; but any and all decisions regarding the future of the Devildom were conducted by Diavolo alone.

Barbatos had lived long enough to grow accustomed to his limitations. He learned how to look for the blind spots within the different futures and use them as clues. It never told him directly what choices to make, but it did give him an idea of where he was meant to be.  He learned to live in the safe spaces, occupying the dark pockets of timelines that maintained their bright, clear futures.  It was how he’d found his place at Diavolo’s side, the reason he’d let the young prince lure him into the castle with the promise of rare tea so many millennia ago.

But this... he had no memory of this, despite how he had cross-checked the timelines repeatedly for Diavolo before the prince made his long-term plans. Was it because you’d had your own adventures with being yanked across multiple timelines and places? Were you touched too many times by his ability, moved from thread to thread, that now your own path was blurring like his own? Or was it something else entirely?

Either way, for the first time in thousands of years, Barbatos felt the irritation of his own restrictions. If he’d been able to see this coming, he could have prepared for it.  But he didn’t, and now here he was, trapped in a lie that he didn’t want to have any part in.

He had a plan, of course... a way to navigate out of these choppy, unchartered waters with minimal damage.  It would have to be carried out prudently, succinctly, like carrying a porcelain teacup filled to the brim without spilling.  Fortunately, his mind was as careful as his hands.  If conducted properly, not only would the future of peace remain secure, but he will not have to sacrifice your friendship.

...Hopefully.

But hope was a fleeting thing, short-lived on wishes and easily breakable by the harsh reality of words.

And no words cut through Barbatos’s fortress of a mind like the young master’s upon his return.

“Barbatos, I believe we should talk.”

Barbatos’s face remained schooled in neutrality, but he paused for the briefest moment.  It was enough to make the prince furrow his brow ever so slightly, the minuscule crack in the butler’s façade enough to confirm Diavolo’s rising suspicions.  Barbatos took it in stride as he calmly entered Diavolo’s drawing room.  After all, he was his loyal servant and oldest confidant. There were no secrets between them, their trust in each other absolute.

“Where would you like me to begin, my lord?”

Diavolo motioned for Barbatos to take a seat.  The butler acquiesced, his back straight and knees drawn closed with his fingers folded formally in his lap.

“How about from the beginning?” Diavolo replied.  “Start with the night of the ball.”

Barbatos’s mouth quirked into a small smile.  “You suspected even then?”

“There were signs, but I wanted to wait until tonight to be sure.”

“It pleases me to see that your powers of observation remain so keen.”

“I have had an excellent tutor,” Diavolo smirked.  “I don’t think anyone else noticed the subtleties that night except for myself.  But tonight was more obvious, particularly with her.  I would like to understand the situation as it stands now.”

“I thought you wanted to hear the story from the beginning,” Barbatos replied with a tilt of his head.  “Would you like me to discuss the past or the present?”

Diavolo narrowed his eyes. “Now is not the time for games, Barbatos.”

“You know as well as I that I do not play games, young master.  This is a teaching moment, as every moment is.  How you opt to question me will impact the type of information you receive, which will in turn influence your understanding and your opinion.”

However, this was more than just a teaching moment, too; it was a test.  Not just for how Diavolo chose to interrogate, but for seeing how willing he was to dirty his own hands, to bear the mantel of responsibility no matter how tarnished.  Ask about tonight’s dinner only, and Barbatos could play it off as a budding romance, a temporary fling, with the implication that he will handle the situation without the prince’s involvement.  That would allow the prince to play to ignorance should the situation derail in the future. But ask about the night of the ball, and the whole truth will be laid bare, a burden that would be shared between the two of them moving forward.

Fortunately, Barbatos raised him well.

Diavolo sighed and pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.  “Very well.  From the beginning, then.”

Barbatos nodded.  “As you wish, young master.”

He then began to recount the events of that first night in the piano room.

Barbatos kept the information to only the most relevant facts.  He omitted the song you played on the piano, he omitted the details of your frustrations with the brothers, and he omitted exactly how he romanced you.  He provided only the fact that you had been at your limit with your responsibilities and that the incident with Mammon and Asmodeus had pushed you beyond those limits.  He emphasized your desire to abandon your many positions and run back to the human realm.  It was in this delicate, fragile state that you had confessed your feelings for him, which forced him into making a very important decision.

As Barbatos spoke, Diavolo’s eyes narrowed, his voice grunted, his head nodded.  He listened silently, his fingers steepled and pressed against his lips.

When Barbatos ended with the farewell earlier in the evening, Diavolo remained silent for a long moment.

“I see...” he finally muttered.  “I understand the decision; it might not have been the one I would have made, but I understand it nonetheless.”

Barbatos nodded in understanding.  He expected as much from the young prince; he always did have a dislike for lies thanks to his unique ability to see through them.  It made the awareness of the wounds they caused all the more intimate.

Avoid answers, yes.  Give noncommittal or enigmatic responses, acceptable. Omitting information, necessary.  But lies...

Lies were messy.

“Ah, how I wish I didn’t ask...” the prince muttered.  His golden eyes lifted to meet Barbatos’s placid green.  “I’m sure you’re also aware of the risks this presents us. Not just if she finds out that you – we’re – lying, but if anyone of note happens to see the two of you together...”

“Of course, young master.  I will proceed with the utmost caution.”

“Is there any value in using your abilities for guidance?”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment, his mouth pressing into a thin line.  He lowered his head the slightest fraction.  “I don’t think so.  I’ve explained to you before how I am unable to see my own future.  By proxy, I will be unable to see hers as well now that our paths are so intertwined.”

“I know you won’t be able to see her clearly anymore, but what about the realms themselves? What about the Devildom?”

“The various potential futures remain the same, young master.  That much is unchanged, as it’s already been seen.  But that gives us little to work with, as there are multiple possible outcomes, some less desirable than others. The deciding factor of what happens in this timeline will depend primarily on her influence.  If I cannot observe her, then I cannot anticipate the proper course.”

“Like knowing where the finish line is, but not knowing the route to get there.”

“Precisely.  The chances of her getting ‘lost’ are now much greater than before. Although, she may have already been veering off course prior to my influence...”

“How so?”

Barbatos was silent for a moment as he reflected back, his gaze distant.  “The way she was that night. I’d never seen her so...”

“Tired?”

“Hopeless.”

Diavolo let out a low, dissatisfied hum, his chin in his fingers as his eyes glazed over in pensive thought. “I had been noticing a shift in her as of late, but I had hoped it wasn’t so serious.  You said yourself that humans are often emotional.  Wasn’t there a chance that she was lost in the moment and would recover given time?”

“Yes,” Barbatos replied.  “And I was willing to let it play out as such, despite my concerns.  However, any possibility for that to happen was eliminated as soon as she confessed her feelings for me.  Had I refused her my lord, I truly do think she would have abandoned everything.  Being exhausted by one’s duties is one thing.  But having one’s heart broken in a moment of vulnerability is another entirely.”

Diavolo hummed and leaned back into his seat, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes to the ceiling. “I see, I see... and now here we are.  Are you sure your ability won’t work? Is there really nothing that can be done? You know I dislike leaving these things to chance, Barbatos.”

The risk of the prince’s disapproval was a cut to Barbatos’s pride; disappointing him was something Barbatos took great personal offense to.  He released a resigned sigh.

“I will check if you’d like me to, young master. Although I am certain the results will not be very fruitful.”

“Please do. Even if nothing comes of it, I must exhaust all avenues of potential knowledge before we determine how to proceed.”

Barbatos stood and bowed.  “Very well.  I will return promptly.”

Diavolo watched as the space behind Barbatos opened up into black smoky tendrils. They wrapped around him like a cloak and then he was gone.  Once the room was empty, Diavolo braced his forehead against his interlaced fingers, his thumbs at his temples.

“Please let him find something...” he muttered to himself.

—

The black was endless.  For anyone else, it would have been entirely unnerving if not panic-inducing.  For Barbatos however, it felt familiar, in the way one’s homeland felt familiar after not setting foot on its soil for so long.  Beneath his feet he felt hard surface, and from it he could sense how it led off to infinite walkways. And yet, it was a space filled with contradiction as there was no up or down, or side to side.  There was only the Here and the There, the Now and the Not Now. Barbatos’s feet began to walk slowly, carefully.  It wasn’t so much a risk of falling, but that simply he had to remain focused on where he came from and where he wanted to go.  As he walked, the air hummed with power, and he stretched out his hands, fingers splayed, as if caressing invisible grass in an invisible field.

He could feel them.... the multitude of threads belonging to countless souls, stretching infinite.  They hummed with life, twisting together with one another and then parting outward as innumerable individuals were born together, lived together, died together.  In and out the threads weaved, creating infinite ropes of fate, making up the Tapestry of Time upon which Barbatos navigated.  They were taut, vibrating like music notes that couldn’t be heard, in a symphony that played for no one.

No one but himself.

He felt the distinct snap of a timeline being cut, reaching its end.  It wasn’t unusual... not all timelines led to happy endings, the worlds within collapsing on themselves.  Still, it left a dull ache in him, as if some part of him had been lost, gone forever like a boat cut from its mooring.

His footsteps finally slowed to a halt, and he stared in front of him into the blackness. He’d gone back just far enough to revisit the beginning, where he was forced to make his decision a few nights prior.  His hands came up in front of him and he parted the air with open palms and long, slender fingers. It was as if he’d taken the rope of time and unraveled it, individually laid out the threads that made it so that he may seek out your thread, the one kissed with golden light and thrumming with power.  The space before him began to ripple and shimmer, light being borne from nothing but simply his will to See.

Light faded to colors and shapes, countless images entering his mind simultaneously, and yet he understood all of them as if he’d watched them individually. Not that it mattered one way or another; time had no meaning here. He could linger as long as he needed to and then return to the When and Where he had left.

Barbatos’s eyes narrowed as he watched.

He saw the moment of where the demonus had spilled all over you, watched as you left the ballroom.  But the waters muddied after that, no doubt due to his own influence. Your golden thread had gone dark, overshadowed by his own.  The only sign of its presence was the steady hum of power that your soul emanated.

He tried to follow the dark strands, to see where they led, waiting for them to clear.  Some cleared quickly, his influence in your life vanishing, and he suspected that those were the timelines where he had been honest with you.  He looked closer, drank in their stories to confirm you back in the human world, alone and heartbroken.  And the Devildom?  Barbatos pulled the threads back together, zooming out to see beyond your human life.  A multitude of futures lay ahead, but as he suspected, most of them were bad; the failure of the exchange program, the three worlds returning to their isolation and prejudice...

He returned to the beginning, and followed the threads that remained dark, shrouded in mystery.  They were invisible roads that bore no street signs or streetlamps, dark pathways that left him blind.

On and on they all went, branching, breaking into more and more infinite possibilities.  In some of them that familiar warm hum of your thread was cut short, leaving empty cold in its wake.  In those moments, he knew your life had ended, and yet he couldn’t learn why, his influence too great, his life too entangled with yours.  It left a heavy sense of unease, a fear of the unknown that he didn’t often experience.

Farther and farther he searched.  Now the threads of life started to split, with some continuing out into that never-ending darkness with their secrets wrapped tight by decisions he had yet to make, and others finally becoming visible.  With relief, he pulled them close, searched their depths.

You were there, alive but alone.  And you weren’t in the Devildom anymore. You were back in the human realm, with a heavy sadness in your eyes.

And the realms...?

Once again locked in stagnation.

Barbatos’s jaw clenched.

He returned to the other threads, the ones that were still shrouded, and yet they went on and on, cloaked in darkness. How long did he remain entangled with you?  What happened in those threads that kept him by your side so intricately for so long?

They were questions that would never receive answers, not until he lived them and learned it in those moments.

Again, he widened his view, took in the bigger picture of the futures that were possible.  They were hazy, but they were there, and it was the reassurance he needed.  There was hope in them, some of them ending in success while others did not.  But there was no way to know for certain which future the present would lead to, the power of his presence hiding far too much for far too long.

For a cold, lonely, tense moment, Barbatos froze, dumbfounded.

Was this it? Were these his only options now? Either a future of failure or a future of ambiguity?

No, there had to be more.  If need be, there was still the original paths, the ones he’d traced out millennia ago when the prince was first laying out his plans.

He returned to the beginning again and searched.

And searched.

There were countless variations of how that night’s events transpired.  In some of them you were left alone, and you eventually went home to nurse your wounded spirit.  In others, one of the brothers found you, each having their own variations of how they approached you in the privacy of that piano room.  Even Simeon went to you in some of the timelines, and Solomon...

But what surprised Barbatos the most was how so many of the variations faded into that oh-so-familiar darkness.  Barbatos himself must have been the one to find you the most, and it was a curiosity he found himself lingering on.  From a practical standpoint, it made sense as he knew the castle better than anyone else.

But there was also a small sense of... warmth. After all, you didn’t venture out to the royal gardens, or walk the quiet late-night streets of the Devildom, or return to the House of Lamentation.  Instead, you went to the piano room, where the memory of your time with him brought you comfort. 

It was his growing friendship with you that allowed him to find you so many times in the first place.

The faintest hint of selfish pride flared within him, and Barbatos froze for a moment.

It wasn’t often that his Sins presented themselves so noticeably. In fact, he’d learned long ago to keep such imperfections under tight control.  To have them stir now of all times...

Strange.

But it vanished as quickly as it came, so he returned his attention to the threads before him.

All at once, he watched, learned, understood.

In most instances, at least the ones he could see that were free of his influence, you stayed in the Devildom.  The emotional turmoil you suffered that evening waned by morning and was later quelled by the brothers’ sincere apologies and kind gestures. 

It was just as Diavolo had said.  Barbatos took comfort in knowing that the prince knew your spirit so well.

Barbatos scanned the infinite spiderweb of visible futures, futures where he played his role as he was intended to, minimal and from the sidelines, small pockets of dark that blurred the edges around the others, Diavolo especially.  And you were there too, the light to Barbatos’s shadow, twining with everyone else’s threads, strengthening the bonds.

His eyes narrowed the further he looked.

You stayed, but in far too many of the timelines you suffered, alone and overwhelmed.  In some of them, you even buckled, and so did the exchange program.

Barbatos couldn’t help but wonder about you in this timeline, emotionally drained and mentally fragile.  Was that to be your future?  Would you break under the heavy weight of prejudice and politics?

Barbatos’s gaze went even further, following the various branches, and warm relief washed over him.

There was still hope.  Not all the futures ended in loneliness and failure. In many of them, you succeeded. It was often ones where you found love in another, where the support of a partner, or even partners, helped to ease your burden.

They were still here... the futures he’d seen so long ago when assisting the young master in plotting out his path for peace, bright and untarnished.  It worried Barbatos that it took him so long to locate them, but he was relieved to see them still intact, still a possibility within the great web.

The relief was short-lived as he pondered their significance.

Should this situation with you fail and take the young master’s vision with it, then Barbatos knew he would have to choose one of these timelines, something safe where his influence didn’t taint the grand plan.  That route would become the Primary, the one that everyone would walk moving forward.  It would remain the present, but it would be borne from a different past where different decisions were made.

In that sense, the you of this thread and everyone else would cease to exist.

The souls would remain the same, as souls were infinite by nature and occupied all timelines simultaneously during their lifespan.  But deletion of a pathway was the deletion of memories, memories made beyond the point of junction where the severing would occur.  Everyone’s spirit would remain the same, but their minds would forget, replaced with the experiences of a different path filled with different decisions.

Everyone would forget... except for Barbatos.  He would remain untouched, remember all of it. He alone would hold the memories of a past that no longer existed; moments of joy, times of sadness, periods of growth.  He’d remember his failures, too; the decisions he made that were the catalyst to losing yet another pathway.

That old, familiar empty ache crept into his chest, settling between his ribs. It was a sadness that never really left him, a burden he had to bear for being who and what he was. He acknowledged its presence and then promptly pushed it back to its resting place within himself, cataloguing it with all of the other countless times he had, in some way, lost those he cared for.

It couldn’t be helped.  Duty first. If the prince ordered it, he would obey.

He stared at the stories of past, present and future a moment longer.  Then he slowly, gently swiped his fingers across the space in front of him.  The timelines rippled, the images faded back into blackness.  There was nothing left to gain here.

---

Barbatos was only gone a moment before he reappeared.  Diavolo looked up at him from his seat with curious golden eyes.

“Well? Did you find anything?”

“As I suspected, young master.  The future you desire remains intact; however, I’m unable to see a clear path to it.”

“Hmm. I see...” Diavolo replied pensively, his gaze distant.  Barbatos’s lingering silence hovered, making the air thick between them, and Diavolo looked back up at him.  “....what is it?”

Barbatos’s brow creased.  “The future you desire remains... however, there are a great many opportunities for the current path to go astray.”

“And, because of your involvement, you’re unable to tell which actions you will need to take to get us to the right finish line.”

“That is correct.”

“Well,” he sighed, “that is quite a conundrum.”

Barbatos’s face fell into melancholy.  “I sincerely apologize, my lord. Had I known—”

Diavolo held up his hand and shook his head.  “There was no way to know, Barbatos.”

“If I had not volunteered to find her—”

“Then I would have sent you anyway.  Besides, I granted you permission.  If anyone is to blame for this, let it be me.  Were you able to see what would have happened if you refused her?”

“Not initially.  But in some timelines our threads parted shortly after that night, which I suspect was the result of such a decision.  Once I was no longer present, I was able to observe.  She returned to the human realm.”

“Permanently?”

“Yes, although she maintained relations with the celestial realm thereafter, and the brothers opted to visit her from time to time.”

“And the exchange program?”

Barbatos’s only response was a heavy silence and the most subtle shake of his head.  Diavolo hummed.

“I see.  Well, at least you can take comfort in knowing that you made the correct decision given the situation.”

“Yes, young master.”

“You don’t sound very relieved.”

Barbatos finally returned to his seat on the sofa, the weight of his guilt too great. This time, he allowed his professional poise to fall away, allowing himself a quiet moment of vulnerability in the prince’s presence in the form of downcast eyes and heavy shoulders.

“The knowledge, while helpful, does not solve our current predicament.  It seems that in many cases, her and I remain closely tied after her confession.  It makes much of the future... unpredictable.”

“Which will make it nearly impossible to navigate.”

“That is correct.”

Diavolo went quiet for a moment, his chin in his fingers.  His golden eyes went from pensive to troubled.  “Can it be undone? If we end up on the wrong path, can it be replaced?”

“Of course, young master.  Whatever you desire.”

Diavolo nodded.  “Good. That is good.  We could select a timeline where someone else retrieved her that night instead of you. Then this whole situation may be avoided.”

Barbatos knew his young master would come to such a conclusion, and yet hearing the words from his mouth made his skin tingle, a chill running down his spine.  He loathed the subconscious resistance that pushed against the locked door of his mind, and he forced it back with a subtle, inhaled breath through his nose.

He had to remain impartial.  He was devoted to the prince entirely, and so he must not withhold any knowledge that can impact success.

“On the contrary, my lord,” he said slowly, “the chances of success from that point were adequate, but not as reliable as they once were.  In many of them she remained isolated, and I can’t help but wonder if it may have been due to her unspoken feelings for me.  If you want to properly secure the future you seek, then it may be best to replace it with a timeline that branches off even earlier.”

Diavolo’s throat rumbled low, his gaze dark, and Barbatos knew he did not enjoy where this was going any more than Barbatos did.

“How early would you recommend?” he finally asked.

“To before she developed feelings for me in the first place.  Granted, we have no way of knowing for sure when that was.  But her and I had begun to spend more time together over the past six months. So I believe selecting a timeline that breaks off to prior that would be sufficient.”

Diavolo’s eyes snapped up to Barbatos’s, his eyebrows raised.  “Six months??” his expression neutralized as his gaze dropped and grew distant.  “That is quite a difference indeed.”

A heavy silence followed, neither demon wanting to move forward with such a permanent decision, and yet the threat of failure loomed like a storm on the distant horizon.

Diavolo let out a long sigh and returned his eyes to Barbatos.  “Tell me... What would you like to do?”

Barbatos stared at him, noting the subtle softness in his expression. His features lost some of their sharpness, his eyebrows upturned at the corners in silent worry.

His familial love for Barbatos was impacting his reasoning, shifting him from responsible ruler to soft-hearted youth.

Barbatos would have none of it. He refused to let his young master jeopardize everything for the sake of him.

Even so, the next words he spoke were far more difficult to say than he had anticipated.

“If we are to err on the side of caution, then I would recommend replacing this timeline with a safer option.”

Diavolo’s strong jaw set in a stubborn jut, his gaze piercing.  “I did not ask for your recommendation, Barbatos. I asked for what you wanted.”

Barbatos frowned.  “Young master, what I want or don’t want is irrelevant. Not with so much at stake.”

“I am perfectly aware of what is at stake.  However, I don’t think this situation requires such drastic measures just yet.  You yourself stated the future is still possible, even if we may not know exactly how to get there.  And how this would impact you is very much relevant, at least to me.”

“You are letting sentiment cloud your judgment.”

“Perhaps...” Diavolo admitted. “But unlike you, I don’t see it as a bad thing.  The happiness of my citizens is my responsibility, and that includes you as well, Barbatos.”

“Your success is all the happiness I need, young master.”

Diavolo gave a wear sigh and broke his eye contact to stare down at his intertwined fingers.

“You say that, and yet... I know what this will cost you. It’s a loss that no one else will suffer once the changes are made, not even myself.  That hardly seems fair.  And since you are the only one who will pay that price, I think that what you want is a valid question.  So I ask you again, Barbatos.  What would you like to do?”

Diavolo knew everything there was to know about Barbatos’s abilities; he had to in order to be able to utilize the butler’s unique skills to their maximum potential.  It was a knowledge that Barbatos had shared willingly, once he knew the prince was ready for such responsibility. 

Never before had Barbatos regretted sharing the details of his powers... until now. 

Because Prince Diavolo was right.  Barbatos had gone through this many times, and yet the pain of each remained. And, he supposed, in some ways it wasn’t fair. But fairness was not something he sought for himself; not after the wrongs he’d done across so many lifetimes. 

The prince’s love for him felt undeserved, and yet he cherished it just the same.

Barbatos was silent for a long moment.  “You are far too soft, young master.”

“As you always tell me,” Diavolo smiled.

Barbatos couldn’t help but wonder what made the young prince so stubborn, his moral compass so resolute.  But for the first time in a long time, Barbatos allowed himself to reflect on his own desires, lured by the promise that what he wanted and what his prince wanted could be one and the same.

Barbatos sighed. “Very well. I would like to keep along this path and try to salvage the current situation.”

Diavolo’s smile went from wry amusement to beaming joy.  “Great! Then it’s settled-”

“Not quite,” Barbatos interrupted, his eyes narrowed.  “We must discuss what will happen if I should fail.”

Diavolo gave a roll of his eyes.  “I believe that goes without saying, but very well. If you do fail, then rest assured, we will remedy the situation by replacing this path with a different one. There. Does that help to ease your worries?”

Barbatos allowed himself a small smile.  “It does.”

“Splendid.  Because I don’t think you’ll fail anyway.”

“It flatters me that you hold me in such high regard, young master.”

“You are always the one with a plan, are you not?” Diavolo teased with a raise of his eyebrow.  Then his amusement faded briefly to reveal the worry beneath.  “You... do have a plan, yes?”

Now Barbatos did smile.  “Of course. As I said before, there are many branches ahead of us where my thread remains intertwined with hers for longer than expected.  However, this can mean many things.  It can mean that this false relationship goes on for some time, possibly even years.  Or, it could mean that we come to an end amicably, after which I remain heavily involved in her life on a platonic level until such a time that I can naturally fade myself back.  That would be the ideal outcome.”

Diavolo hummed. “End amicably... and how do you plan to do that?”

 “Time, young master.”

“Time?”

Barbatos nodded. “Yes. You know better than anyone how many responsibilities I carry.  It leaves very little room for much else. Add in the pressures of secrecy, and I’m certain she will grow weary of me soon enough once this initial phase of excitement ends.”

Diavolo’s golden eyes glittered. “I see. So you plan to run out the clock, so to speak, rather than putting an end to it directly.”

Barbatos nodded again in affirmation.  “The only way for this to end with minimal damage is if she is the one to end it. It must be her idea. It’s the best way to ensure her ability to move on and find someone more suited for her in the future.”

“Are you sure that will work? You know how stubborn she can be...”

“Yes... she can be quite patient, and persistent to boot.  However, humans’ lives are short.  I’m certain that at some point, she will recognize that her years are being wasted in a secret relationship that can never fully develop.  Not to any fault of our own, but to the cruelness of circumstance.”

The worry returned to Diavolo’s eyes as he stared at Barbatos.  “And if this plan of yours does take years? Or, worse, what if she never gives up? What then?”

“Then I will remain with her, whether it be a year or a human lifetime.  You may consider it my penance for my error. However, I don’t anticipate that it will last that long.”

“What makes you so sure?”

There was a quiet pause as Barbatos gathered his words carefully.  “I do not take joy in this deceit, young master.  In fact, I find it quite troubling.  I may not be able to return her feelings with the same ferocity, but I do value her and respect her.”

Something flashed in Diavolo’s eyes, but it was brief, gone in an instant. “You care for her.”

Barbatos found the look discomforting and averted his eyes to the fireplace where the flames danced.  “On a platonic level, yes.  As such, I will not take advantage of her. And I suspect she will only wait for so long before the lack of intimacy between us becomes a problem too big to ignore.”

Diavolo joined Barbatos in staring at the fire.  “I see. And you will use the excuse of your busy schedule and the danger of prying eyes as a way to avoid such situations.”

“Precisely.”

Diavolo gave a tired, drawn-out groan and slouched back into his chair, his eyes closed.  “It all sounds very complicated. It makes me exhausted just hearing about it.” His eyes opened and fresh mirth danced in them.  “I feel it would have almost been easier if you actually did have feelings for her. Then we’d only have to worry about keeping the relationship private from others, rather than lying to her as well.”

Barbatos’s expression soured.  “Do not joke of such things, young master.”

Diavolo barked a laugh. “You speak as if falling in love would be a bad thing!”

Barbatos could barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes.  “Political complications aside, such a thing would be more burden than blessing. It would distract from my duties and require time that I do not have.”

“Perhaps some distraction would be good for you,” the prince winked.

Barbatos’s smile turned icy.  “If this is your way of trying to get out of doing your paperwork, then it is a poor attempt indeed.  I assure you, young master. My loyalty and focus lies entirely with you.”

“Yes, I was afraid you’d say that...” Diavolo threw his arms up dramatically. “Very well, have it your way then. Keep yourself isolated and lonely forever.”

A bit of an exaggeration, considering how often Barbatos found himself in the company of others. A small, dry smile curled the corners of his lips, never reaching his eyes.

“Thank you, my lord.  Now, the hour is late.  I do believe it is time for me to prepare your bath.”

“Yes, please.”

Barbatos left the drawing room to begin preparations. As soon as he was out of earshot of Diavolo, he let out a deep sigh as the weight of dread eased slightly from his chest, no longer suffocating.  The knowledge that he would not have to replace this timeline just yet brought a sense of relief so strong that it unconsciously pulled his lips into a smile as he began to run the bathwater.

His prince was trusting him, giving him a chance to repair what he’d broken.  The gesture touched him deeply.

He only hoped he could deliver.

Tag List: @slayersins @doumadono @silverrings-n-prettythings

[yanderes-galore]

Oh yay! Undertale! Can you write a yan concept for Nightmare Sans? ^^

Poor you... He's going to be horrible....

Yandere! Nightmare Sans Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Sadism, Poor mental health/Talk of mental issues (Implied depression), Toxic behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Social and physical isolation, Kidnapping, Dark themes, Slight gore/Grotesque descriptions, Forced companionship/relationship (It's vague).

Nightmare would be difficult to deal with and get away from.

To you, he's the equivalent of an eldritch deity.

You can't kill him and your hate would only fuel him.

I mean, think about it.

Nightmare can traverse universes/timelines when he senses negative thoughts.

Cutting him doesn't kill him.

In fact, not much can hurt him.

The scariest example is probably an obsession who has little knowledge of the timelines and AUs.

That way you have no idea what Nightmare is... who he is... or what he wants from you.

You can get a similar result if you were aware of the multiverse, yet you might be more equipped.

Either way, Nightmare is drawn towards negative emotions.

As his obsession, perhaps you were going through a rough patch?

The good news about Nightmare is there's a low chance to get him as a yandere.

This is because in order to gain his attention, you have to have some pretty negative stuff brewing in you.

Nightmare would be the type of yandere to prey on weakness.

Nightmare would be more drawn to an obsession having poor mental health due to their environment.

The moment he's drawn to you?

Things only seem to get worse, unfortunately.

He'd be one of the more toxic yanderes.

Granted, they all are... but he's a special kind of evil.

When he senses weakness in his obsession, he pounces.

At first, he watches you.

He scouts you out, watching how you act, feeding off your negativity...

Then soon he starts meeting you, usually late at night where he blends in best.

I hope none of you were expecting him to be very... caring.

Nightmare would mess with your head, farming your negativity as though he's starving for it.

He acts as a manifestation of your poor mental health.

He isolates you socially by whispering bad thoughts.

He makes you think your friends hate you, that no one else cares.

All of it is lies, but those in a bad mental state are easy to manipulate for him.

His goal is to keep you to himself.

His "affection" is just a way to use you.

Considering what you have to go through to meet him, you're like a food source to him.

Nightmare is a monster in every sense of the word.

He watches you from afar, glowing blue eyes watching you with a certain hunger.

He loves your suffering... he feeds into it and off it.

Nightmare is good at manipulation, feigning care and compassion to lure you in closer.

As I said before, Nightmare would grow your negative thoughts.

Do you think everyone hates you? Well... he makes those thoughts louder.

They do, they always have... not one soul in your little world liked you or loved you....

But then he turns it around.

No one likes you but him.

Nightmare, as scary as he is, is your only friend and companion.

He plays the part, all a ploy to lure you in like an anglerfish.

He finds it cute when you believe every word he says.

You're in such a bad state you'd believe anything.

Who knows, you probably think he's some hallucination.

In reality, he's very real.

Nightmare would convince you to cut off all your friends and family.

He feeds you false promises of love, even sealing the deal with soft touches.

They aren't genuine, no, Nightmare views you possessively.

His feelings are more akin to a monster feasting on prey, or ownership.

His obsession isn't entirely out of pure love, if any love at all.

Every touch is calculated, every word planned.

You're going to be led into a sticky web of lies with him.

Nightmare plans to pull you deeper into the black inky thoughts you have.

If you think about it, he really is like a physical form of your current mental state.

He only ever seems to make things worse, too.

Nightmare would prevent any attempt to get better.

Therapy? Why even bother going?

You have him, don't you?

Please... he doesn't need you attracting his brother...

He's already taken claim to you, Dream would only ruin things.

Nightmare would keep isolating you and breaking you down until you're all alone.

Your negativity tastes wonderful to him.

By the time he feels you're all his... you can barely leave your bed.

You don't trust anyone, you don't know if you'll ever get better...

The only entity accompanying your thoughts is Nightmare, the ink black monster who never leaves you be.

Nightmare isolating you is important to him.

That way, even if you knew what he was doing, you can't leave.

Where else is there to go if all your bridges have been burned?

Exactly, nowhere.

Nowhere but back to him.

By the time you're ready to give up... he wraps you up in his arms, tentacle-like appendages dragging you tighter against him.

He promises to be merciful... to take you away from this place.

His words are more carefully placed lies.

This is the same monster who has definitely killed for you.

Any friends or family members who pry too much or get too close...?

Nightmare silently hunts them down, an appendage from his inky body impaling them in a bloody mess.

It brings him glee to know this will only make things worse for you.

The blood is quickly cleaned from himself whenever he "intervenes".

These acts have managed to give you the illusion of your friends and family really abandoning you.

Nightmare is a twisted individual, which is expected of his character.

His twisted behavior doesn't end when he lies to your face, saying he'll protect you if you just follow him.

He comments about you being unhappy in your life.

Don't you wish for something else?

Don't you want to leave?

Nightmare fakes the role of some guardian for you.

When you eventually agree, since you have nowhere to go, his grin turns sinister.

By the time you realize the true nature of Nightmare, he's already got you in his grip.

You can't tear yourself out of his grasp.

His grip is too sticky, forcing you to remain still as he teleports out of your world in a puddle.

Imagine if this was your first multiverse experience.

It's such a complex thing... and you only stumble upon it because Nightmare whisked you away.

No one's going to help you, you both know that.

His grip is unrelenting as he rambles about how much he supposedly "cares" about you.

He promises that you will have a new life... one different than your old one...

You'll live a new life by his side, forever...

But he never said your new life would be better than your old one.

[godhasatenderheart]

how do you know for sure you won't end up in hell?

Hello! I saw your other message assuring me not to worry about responding because of the grieving process. Thank you for your kindness and thoughtfulness—it truly means a lot. May God bless your sweet soul. 🩷

It’s comforting to know that, because of God’s promises in the Bible, there’s assurance that we won’t end up in Hell. Many verses speak of salvation and bring peace. Sometimes, due to severe trauma, trusting in that love and safety can be difficult, but it’s a journey to trust in what God has promised.

When doubt about salvation or God’s promises arises, the best remedy is prayer and spending time in the Word. Trusting God fully and consistently is one of the hardest parts of the Christian walk, and it’s a lifelong journey. If doubt about salvation occurs, please know that it’s a normal part of the walk and can be overcome.

This world is filled with evil, and Satan continuously works to shake that faith. We face attacks, criticism, and feelings of shame and unworthiness. Yet, the Bible reveals God’s character, and when we trust in what He has said, there is assurance of salvation.

I’ll share some Scripture that speaks to our salvation under the cut, so as not to flood anyone’s timeline. I hope this can be helpful, beloved!

Then he brought them out and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” And they said, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.”

—Acts 16:30-31 (ESV)

More Scripture of salvation assurance below:

I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, that you may know that you have eternal life.

—1 John 5:13 (ESV)

because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.

—Romans 10:9-10 (ESV)

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.

—Ephesians 2:8-9 (ESV)

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

—John 3:16 (ESV)

For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. My heart faints within me!

—Job 19:25-27 (ESV)

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

—1 John 1:9 (ESV)

Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.

—Proverbs 28:13 (ESV)

Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life.

—John 5:24 (ESV)

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.

—John 10:27-28 (ESV)

Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.

—Romans 5:9-10 (ESV)

The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.

—Romans 8:16-17 (ESV)

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.

—Romans 8:28-30 (ESV)

For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

—2 Corinthians 5:21 (ESV)

In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.

—Ephesians 1:13-14 (ESV)

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

—Philippians 1:6 (ESV)

which is why I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that he is able to guard until that day what has been entrusted to me.

—2 Timothy 1:12 (ESV)

But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.

—Titus 3:4-7 (ESV)

Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.

—Hebrews 7:25 (ESV)

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.

—1 Peter 1:3-5 (ESV)

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure.

—1 John 3:1-3 (ESV)

[emeritusemeritus]

Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]

Part 11

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship} mentions of Snape x Reader.

Timeline: DH1&2- Initially set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. On it got a angsty. So much angst I can’t tag it all. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

Only a few more chapters left to go now. This one hurt my Severus loving heart🖤

It's cold and dark in your mind but your body feels like it's on fire, trapped in an inferno that won't end. You'd scream if you could but you're trapped, rendered silent and frozen as your insides blaze without reprieve. Your suffering continues though you fight through it, ploughing on even with a pain-clouded mind and blurry vision as the blood continues to pour from your body.

You try and focus your eyes upon your opponent, forcing yourself to look harder and be stronger, using what little power you have left to continue to fight.

Nagini is hissing wildly, her huge, thick body roiling on the floor as if she's under the cruciatus curse, pain consuming her. There's a sound emitting from her that sounds ungodly, a mixture between a hiss and a scream that makes you feel as if your own throat is burning through the awful sound. Her body vibrates, continuing to convulse on the floor and you take a moment to back away, stumbling backwards as you slide across the floor, not realising until that moment that you'd fallen to your knees. The sharp rubble slices at your hands but you don't feel it, your mind screaming at you knowing you needed to get a safe distance away.

You fix your wand upon the multiple, horrifying gashes in Nagini's body, leaking both blood and black liquid which had mixed together to form the most grotesque sight you could fathom. The skin around her wounds was quickly turning black and your consciousness was fading in and out though you fought to pull every ounce of strength from yourself to focus. Taking steadying breaths, you think of Severus, the dear friend you had lost, feeling more than ever that you needed him right now.

"Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur."

You drag your wand across her skin, watching at the lines on her body heal but not completely. It draws the black liquid out of her slowly, like pulling an invisible thread out and you watch in relief as the wounds begin to lose their black hue.

You were weak, much weaker than you hoped to be and you knew with little consolation that you might not be able to get out of this, your own blood still dripping onto the floor by your feet. Your eyes were closing on their own accord, exhaustion overcoming you no matter how hard you fought.

You dragged your wand over your own skin now, trying desperately to stop the blood flow, seeing the black venom infecting the deep gashes on your arm. The incantation was weak but you managed to draw the black venom out of your arm, just. The wounds were far from closed but the blood flow had slowed and that was all you could do.

It hadn't worked. Nagini was still a snake, not the woman you'd had seen in your mind; nothing you had done had worked. You forced yourself in your last moments to think of your boyfriends, their infectious laughter and gorgeous smiles. A loop of memories played in your mind, a montage of favourite moments together throughout the years. The first time you met, the first kisses, the last kisses and everything in between. They had each other, you reasoned, feeling a slither of peace at that very fact, knowing that whatever happened to you, they wouldn't be alone.

Your eyes briefly opened again upon hearing a haunting sound, a hissing that only increases with volume and intensity, immediately causing you to enter an internal fight or flight reaction though your body was still paralysed with exhaustion. Your mind takes a few moments to realise exactly what is happening as you register the figures of two people nearby, their outlines becoming clearer with each passing moment as your vision cleared, though you couldn't hold your eyes open for long.

Ron and Hermione.

You were encased around the large, wrapped trunk of Nagini's body, though you felt no pressure on your limbs, no constriction. The snake was wildly hissing at Ron and Hermione who were trying to approach you with horrified eyes, their wands fixed upon the snake with conviction. She was protecting you.

"Ron no! If you miss, you'll hit y/n!" Hermione wailes, tugging on his arm which had his wand aimed at Nagini. He looked furious, more angry than you'd ever seen him, a look in his eyes which showed he was out for revenge. The snake hisses in fury at Ron, sensing his intentions and gives a warning snap of it's head, showing the vicious fangs to warn them away. You can only see the side profile but even from your limited view, the blood covered fangs and healed but visible gashes across her body were a terror inducing sight.

Closing your eyes, you tried to connect to Nagini, finding nothing in the darkness behind your eyes. You're exhausted, both mentally and physically but you push harder, searching deeper and further in your mind for any sign of the snake, but there's nothing, the connection had been broken.

You open your eyes, feeling it easier now as the light no longer hurts your eyes, finding strength in the knowledge that something had changed, something must have worked.

You shift slightly, attempting to think of ways to get out of Nagini's hold and almost instantly she senses your movement. You reach blindly for your wand but feel nothing, preparing yourself for the imminent attack, but nothing comes. Instead, she unfurls herself from around you and with one last vicious hiss in Ron and Hermione's direction, she turns to you, watching you carefully as she peels her body away from yours, shifting to lie between you and your friends. You don't break her gaze, eyeing her carefully with the knowledge that she might attack the second you looked away.

You look into her eyes and see the woman staring back at you in your mind, looking frightened and lost, her eyes drawing you in. You feel compelled to explain, though she may not understand and there's no denying that the truth could cause her to attack, the uncertain nature of the serpentine creature only making you more afraid.

"You know don't you, what needs to be done," you say gently, still looking into her eyes. She continues to look at you and there's a momentary pause that passes where she doesn't respond in anyway, making you feel foolish for trying to communicate with the snake. She suddenly shifts her head and you immediately throw up your hand to stop Ron from moving forward as he prepares to lurch towards you, wand still aimed at the snake threateningly, his grip so tight you can see that his fingers have turned white. Her head slowly nods, though it's minuscule in movement.

There's a brief flash of embarrassment you feel at connecting this way with a creature but you sense that she can understand you completely.

"If there was another way," you begin to say but the rest of the words catch in your throat. Truthfully, you didn't know any other way of how to save her, of how to kill the Horcrux inside her without her perishing. Her head sinks to the floor, near your leg and suddenly she doesn't feel like a threat anymore. You sit there for some time, not knowing how to proceed, feeling like you'd reached an impasse.

All it took was a large bang out in the courtyard for the temporary armistice to be broken. Ron ran to the main doors just around the corner to look at what had caused the crash and he looked horrified as he explained with difficulty that Harry and Voldemort were duelling. It had to be now.

You turned to Nagini and noticed almost instantly how her demeanour had changed, her eyes no longer conveying any of the sadness or understanding, but instead looked cold and hardened. Her body had tensed and her tail had curled into her body tighter, all signs of alarming defensiveness. You understood immediately; the Horcrux within her was sensing her master only metres away. She could sense his danger, the treat to his life, which meant that the Horcrux within her, the slither of Voldemort's soul was also in danger.

Time seemed to slow as you realised too late the danger you were in, your proximity to the seemingly possessed snake putting you in imminent peril, especially without a wand. You ran, scrambling away until you backed up towards the wall, looking for some way of hiding, dragging Hermione with you so that she would be safe. It was like the predator in her had awoken, the last semblance of humanity drained from her mind as her body tenses, her body stiffening as she prepared to attack. You were defenceless and Hermione only had mere seconds to adjust to you throwing her back, as Ron leapt forward to protect her before Nagini lunged.

You watched at the snake flew through the air, her mouth wide open and blood soaked mouth hurtling towards you with an unstoppable force. You force yourself to think of your beloved boyfriends a s of your lost friend, desperately clinging to the love you'd received throughout your life as you waited for the attack.

But no pain came. Your eyes had closed on their own accord and you opened them tentatively to see a billowing cloud of black smoke rising in the air, clearing slowly to show the figure of Neville, bloodied and panting hard, the sword of Gryffindor in his hands. He'd done it, the very last Horcrux was dead.

Ron and Hermione held on to each other for the longest time, the near death experience pulling them closer together. You looked at Neville and leapt to your feet, throwing your arms around him. He stumbled briefly having not anticipated your embrace but held strong, wrapping his spare arm around you as you hugged him in both celebration and appreciation.

Then, you saw the translucent figure of a woman before you . It was the very same woman you'd seen in your mind, through the connection with Nagini. She was beautiful, the contrast of her dark hair and pale skin looked vibrant once again. The spirit's connection was brief, lingering just long enough for her to nod once at you, bowing her hair before she disappeared. You had done it, her spirit had been freed. The spell, your blood, mixed with hers and the venom really had worked.

You turned to Hermione and Ron, pulling away from Neville and found them to be staring at the exact spot where she hovered only moments ago, clearly having seen exactly what you had.

"Harry."

That one word prompted you all to run around the corridor and out into the courtyard, reminded that Harry was duelling the dark Lord with no assistance. You expected to see a myriad of lights and colour, the two powerful figures mid combat as each opponent fought for what they thought was right. Instead, you found Harry alone, stood in the crumbled courtyard clutching both his wand and the elder wand, staring down at the mythical hallow in amazement. He'd done it. He'd won. You'd all won.

Ron and Hermione ran towards him, embracing with triumphant glory, each of them pleased to be alive after facing their opponent head on. Neville fist bumped the air in celebration and limped quickly off back towards the main building, no doubt alerting the others that Voldemort had been defeated.

You stood alone, feeling suddenly overcome with emotions that you hadn't anticipated, conflicted to your very core. You felt a massive surge of relief of course, wanting nothing more than to celebrate alongside the trio and everyone else. But you felt sad and a little lost. You felt for everyone that had lost their lives in the battle, the damage that had been caused, for little teddy who had lost both of his loving parents in a single night and for Severus, who had died in your arms, a spoil of war.

But then you remembered the tear. The memory he had given you in his last moments. You looked upon the trio once more, seeing them rightfully still embracing and celebrating their win and with one last glance, you slipped back inside the castle and walked straight towards the headmasters office before anyone could stop you. You couldn't wait to get back to Fred and George, to be wrapped in their arms and back with everyone you loved, no longer having to feel fear or doom but this had to be done first, you needed answers and closure from the only person that could give you that.

Approaching the gargoyle staircase, you thought of that night so long ago when you'd slipped in to the castle and confronted Severus about George's injury. You thought of your anger, your resentment and your confusion that your friend and mentor could have done this to the man you loved, particularly as you approached the main doors, remembering how you had barged in the last time.

The office was largely undamaged, with only a few books and glass cases smashed on the floor from the attack. The pensieve pulled out automatically s you stepped further into the room, crossing the threshold with a nervous trepidation that made you pause, pulling the vial out of your pocket and holding it out with shaky hands.

You poured in the tear and watched as it swirled down, a bright white cloud of billowing smoke within the water, drawing you in. You took a deep breath and submerged your face into the tepid water,  watching as the cloud parted and dispersed, forming into figures that you recognised immediately. Severus and Dumbledore. They were in the very office your body was suspended in, Dumbledore sat at his desk with Severus stood before him, attempting to walk out.

"Don't ignore me, Severus," Dumbledore says, causing the potions master to pause in the doorway. "We both know Lord Voldemort has ordered the Malfoy boy to murder me. But should he fail, one should presume the dark Lord will turn to you."

Severus stands resolute, looking upon Dumbledore with a blank expression. "You must be the one to kill me, Severus. It's the only way. Only then will the dark Lord trust you completely."

You watch as Snape's face drops subtly, his eyes expressing a hesitancy and pain that is almost palpable. The vision flickers and you see Snape shushing Harry in what you know to be the astronomy tower before the image of Dumbledore's falling body briefly flickers across your vision, the killing curse uttered by Snape ringing in your ears. The vision then flickers back to their meeting in the office, Dumbledore's weak and tired eyes imploring Severus.

"There will come a time when Harry Potter must be told something. But you must wait until Voldemort is at his most vulnerable."

"Must be told what?" Severus' deep baritone voice calls out, a frustration and element of concern in his tone.

The vision suddenly changes again and you watch as Severus enters the broken house you'd recognised from your trip to Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve. You watched as he walked across the debris covered landing and caught sight of Lily dead on the floor, the infant Harry wailing in his cot only yards away.

"On the night Lord Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow to kill Harry, and Lily Potter cast herself between them, the curse rebounded."

You can feel the affection he felt for Lily with the sound of her name, and then the devastation and pain at discovering her body on the floor in the nursery. It's gut wrenching and crippling to feel everything he felt and you now understood that he had loved her, he had loved Lily Potter.

"When that happened, a part of Voldemort's soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find, Harry himself." Dumbledore has begun walking down the platform steps in his office, his legs weak and his frame looking frailer than ever as you see his blackened hand, the curse from a Horcrux.

"There's a reason Harry can speak with snakes. There's a reason he can look into Lord Voldemort's mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside him."

"So when the time comes," Severus says, squinting at Albus who has reared closer to him now, the tension in the room growing increasingly denser and thick. "The boy must die?"

"Yes."

"You've kept him alive so that he can die at the proper moment," Severus accuses, his tone suddenly much harsher, "you've been raising him like a pig for slaughter."

"Don't tell me now you've grown to care for the boy?"

Then you see him look out of the window, the darkness in the sky only further proof that this was conversation had late at night, in complete secrecy. You watch as Severus casts the patronus charm and a familiar glowing doe whips around the room before exiting through the glass, the illuminated spot fading as it disappears further into the sky.

"And y/n, you have grown to care for her too?" Albus asks. You watch as Severus becomes instantly more defensive, his eyes squinting and mouth opening before closing rather harshly, his chest puffing.

"That is none of your concern," he answers in a deadpan way, his eyes averted to a spot on the wall where the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black hangs.

"But Severus it is, do you not see that she is involved?"

Snape's head whips round quicker than a flash until he's staring back into Albus' eyes with a fierce glare, though beneath the stare is concern and worry.

Flashes of yourself appear in Snape's memory, a strange thing to have seen memories you yourself had but from the other perspective. You see yourself in your sixth year, singled out in his vision as he watches you work, creating a batch of what you remember to be Sleeping Draught in class. The next memory shows the following week, your meeting in his office, seeing you smile and laugh as his deep chuckle fills your ears. You see as different memories merge together of you working together, annotating his books and transcribing his notes, the visions of you shifting to memories you had never known, of Severus watching you and glancing at you when you weren't paying attention. You can feel a warmth again to these memories, feeling the affection he felt for you, as if you were able to experience it exactly how he had, much like the memories of Lily.

"You said that you would protect her! You said by making her my apprentice it would shield her from his notice!"

"The dark Lord may be unaware of her prowess but I fear her connection to the Weasley's will have attracted the attention of her peers." There's a flash of you, Fred and George sat in the great hall from Snape's perspective at the top table, he sees you laughing and resting your head on Fred's shoulder, though the memory is brief.

"There's little I can do, Severus. They will need her," Albus says with conviction.

The memory shifts again before your eyes and you see Severus sat alone in his office, his corporeal patronus dancing wildly around the room as he binds together pieces of what you recognise to be the Lebetum, the misted glass opened as he summons the doe inside. He thinks of you, your laughter playing like a melody in your own ears and there's a brief moment where you can smell the scent of your hair as you watch the words 'Expecto Dominum Meum' appear across the black device just as you had experienced many times before.

There's a brief memory that flashes and you watch as Severus pulls a book from his bookshelf in what you assume to be his home, followed by him using the book as a glossary as he translates his words whilst writing. The next memory cuts in of you receiving the book from him, his deep voice speaking over the memory that you will need this to translate and transcribe his newest paper, handing you the book of Latin phrases and texts.

"You love her," Albus' voice cuts through and you watch as Dumbledore and Snape are stood on a cliff top somewhere, the exchange between the pair is rife with tension.

"Yes," he says, his deep voice speaking matter of factly.

"You've protected her all you can," Albus says, perhaps slightly gentler now.

"It's not enough," he says, his black sleeved arms wrapping around himself, turning to look out into the distance. You know he's thinking about you, and of Lily, the two women he felt he'd lost, slipping between their fingertips. "It will never be enough." He reaches into his pocket and thrusts the black device of his own creation that he'd pulled from within the folds of his cloak into the older man's wrinkled hands, who gapes at it for a moment, a frown pulling between his eyebrows.

"Severus, you can't possibly," Albus begins speaking but he's cut off when Snape looks up from the Lebetum with an expression you had so often seen, the fixed, harsh stare that told whomever he was speaking to that he would answer no questions nor explain further, his word absolute.

"Until my heart stops beating. With hope, even after."

The memory fades and the smoke like memory disappears into the water until it's no longer visible. You pull out of the water and sink to your knees, sitting on the bottom stone step of the desk platform, gathering your thoughts.

You sobbed uncontrollably, chest and shoulders heaving with the effort as you let every bit of pain consume you, every emotion you'd tried to hold back from the moment you left Bill's wedding and everyone behind in your hunt for the Horcruxes, realising that you had been played like a pawn in a game of wizards chess. You cried for your lost friend, knowing now that he loved you. You cried for everything that could have been, for how he'd protected you the whole way through without knowing, for the pain you felt at being so close but so far away from Fred and George, for the months spent pining for them, for the horrors you'd seen and what you'd been through.

You gasped for breath between your sobs, clutching your arms around yourself as you rocked gently, feeling entirely consumed by pain. You should feel victorious and triumphant, celebrating with everyone else in the castle but you couldn't face it, not when you felt so far away from yourself.

Your thoughts were consumed with Severus and what you'd seen in his memories and you wondered if you'd loved him too. You loved Fred and George, that was evident to everyone around you and to yourself but you'd never considered the piece of your heart that had remained with Severus, realising much too late that you had loved him too. Maybe not in the same way that you did the twins but it was undeniable that there was something there much stronger than friendship alone.

Your sobs had subsided eventually and you sat on the cold stone with a vacant expression, gaze fixed upon an uninteresting spot on the floor. You felt drained in every sense of the word; your mind was slowly going blank, unable to string two solid thoughts together as the mental and emotional strain took its toll on you. Your body felt weak and broken, pain and soreness now evident in your injured body, feeling the full effects of your shoulder injury and the cuts on your arm. You look down at the deep gashes on your arm and begin to slowly peel your jacket away, cringing and wincing as the dried blood around the cuts rips away having connected your jacket to the broken skin.

You cast a healing spell on the cuts but it's weak, knowing that you couldn't perform the correct incantation as much as you wanted to, your body too exhausted and drained. You pondered, just for a moment, the irony of the cuts on your arm. The spell created by your mentor intended to inflict pain for those he hated, but instead inflicted upon the woman he loved to free her from her torment.

You sat for a while thinking of the memories he'd shown you, realising now that all his words had made sense. He'd asked you to forgive him, telling you that one day you'd understand. He'd protected you when you needed it most, provided you with his own guardian in the form of a patronus and saved your life multiple times even from afar. He'd given you all the clues, the biggest of all being the book of Latin phrases, somehow knowing that it would be the key to surviving, putting his faith in your ability to decode it. He'd loved you. He was never a true destheater but had been the bravest man alive to act as a spy for the order, for the sake of everyone who seemingly hated him.

One thing had always bothered you, once singular piece of knowledge that had plagued you since the moment you'd been bequeathed with the Lebetum.

You stood slowly, throwing your jacket back over you to cover the scars and the wounds that littered your body and dusted yourself off, though it was a pointless effort as your clothes and skin were still stained with Severus' blood. You stepped towards the littering of books on the bookcase and tried to find the off-white leather book amongst the rows of text, hoping it was there. It wasn't. It was, however, laid on the desk, already open.

You searched through the glossary of words, alphabetically listed as you turned to the section you needed.

Lebetem, or Lebetum (noun) translates to Cauldron. A large metal pot used for brewing potions over an open fire. Can also refer to a situation characterised by strong emotions.

You felt gobsmacked by the revelation, realising that it was most likely a joke played by Severus, a little twist of humour he'd integrated in the the situation.

You then thought of the translation Mr Ollivander had given you of the text on the device, Expecto Dominum Meum, and his little chuckle when you explained that it was a Lebetum, realising now that it all made sense. He’d recognised you as Snape’s apprentice and had only chuckled when he pieced it all together.

Lebetum, Cauldron, a necessity of brewing potions.

Expecto Dominum Meum, I await my master.

I await my potions master.

You laughed out loud; an honest and very real laugh that you felt hadn't happened in such a long time. You'd been blind to it all this time, his intricacies never failing to amuse and astound you. You felt an immense sense of gratitude erupt from you and though you were naturally devastated that he was no longer here, nor were you able to thank him for everything he'd done, the Lebetum had done the trick to make you feel a little better, giving you humour in a time of sheer upset.

You wanted a shower desperately, a hot cup of tea and the comfort of your loved ones around you. You looked down at the book of Latin translations and smiled, touching your hand to the old pages before you walked away, feeling calmed.

You closed the doors to the office as you exited, casting one last glance at the intricacy of the wood and walked down the staircase, back towards the great hall where you hoped everyone was still gathered.

Bill spotted you first and leapt up from his seat to close the distance between you, pulling you into his chest. The unlikely friendship you'd forged during your time at shell cottage was entirely unexpected but welcome, his ability to make you feel at ease and protected was unparalleled, his role of big brother extending to you.

"Stop scaring me like that," he mutters and you can hear the slight smirk in his voice, making you chuckle. "Told you you were tough, wouldn't find me dead near a snake." You chuckle again and start to snark that Werewolves were fine but not snakes, but you're stopped as you see two near identical and very welcome faces waiting anxiously behind Bill. You pull apart, giving him one last smile before he slips back to sit beside Fleur at the table, allowing you to properly reunite with his brothers.

There's a singular beat that passes where you stand still, looking at them with a trepidation to your gaze. You felt guilty for leaving them alone, to fight your own battles without considering theirs. They both looked disheveled and dirty, eyes dark and tired and for the first time that night you no longer thought of your own exhaustion or torment.

Fred moves first and pulls you in for the tightest embrace he'd ever given, his hand holding your waist close to his body and his left hand cradling your head. He kisses you without abandon, uncaring and unashamed of anyone nearby as your emotion pours into the kiss, a thousand apologies and comforting words said silently between you. A tear falls from your left eye, overwhelmed by your official reconnection but he doesn't miss it, moving his thumb to swipe it away as he pulls his lips away from yours reluctantly, savouring the feel of your lips against his.

"I love you so much," he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead as he begins to rock you gently side to side. "You're never leaving again, you hear me? I can't ever be apart from you again." Another tear slips at his words and all you can do is nod in agreement, blindsided by the emotion and conviction of his words.

"Never again," you reply, reaching out to grab the material of his jacket, feeling as if he'd slip away if you let go. He senses this and presses one last kiss to your lips before pulling away and stepping aside, allowing George to scoop you up.

Fred and George were different in many ways but it was never more obvious to you than when you were in their arms. George always seemed taller somehow, your head not reaching as far up onto his shoulder as it did with Fred but it was equally as comforting to be pressed into the centre of his chest. His arms caged you and held you tightly, shoulders and breasts smushed against the hard plains of his body but you didn't care.

"Tell me it's over, Angel, please don't leave again."

His voice sounds broken and like a little boys, lost and afraid, a sound that breaks your heart. You pull away firmly, looking up into his gorgeous face.

"I'm staying right here, forever," you say, reaching up to touch his cheek as you lean up, making it clear that you want a kiss. He obliges immediately and kisses you with a passion and intensity you hadn't quite anticipated. His hand find yours and he holds on to you tightly, one large hand grabbed around your back as your right hand stays on his face.

Once the kiss ends, Fred steps back to join you both as both twins grab for you, your small frame between their much larger once's making you feel safe and secure. Eventually you are pulled away by Molly who can't wait any longer and you're smothered by her fussing until Arthur pulls her away with a knowing smile before he embraces you. Each person embraces you as you're passed around the group, feeling every ounce of love they give.

There's a moment where you and Harry look at each other before you embrace, a wordless question about your shared connections to darkness. You shake your head with a smile, telling him that your connection had been severed and he nods his head with the same mirrored look, both of you smiling widely as you realise that it was now just you, no longer plagued by another's emotions or memories. You throw your arms around his neck, both laughing as you finally feel the celebratory mood everyone else felt, now that you were back with the people you loved.

Ginny brought you a hot cup of tea from one of the little reserves that had been set up and you thanked her kindly, taking a seat in between Fred and George, in your rightful place. Instantly, their arms lock you into place with George's arm extending around your back and Fred's large hand covering your thigh, keeping you anchored to them. Everyone was laughing and joking, telling their own stories and as you looked around at your loved ones, though missing one important person; you felt happy.

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@crookedwerewolfobject

@chipscanbeevil

@justromaaa

[arceespinkgun]

Hi! May we have your answers to the questions 3, 12, 13, 29, 49 and/or 50 for a character of your choice for the Honest Favorite Character ask game, please and only if you want to?

I really like your idea that I could do three different characters, Elita-1, Jazz, and Arcee (I genuinely could not choose who to talk about and had to ask who to pick)!

3. What first drew you to this character?

I once talked about this with Elita so I'll answer for Arcee and Jazz. With Arcee, the thing that first drew me to her was that she was a badass warrior in TFP and IDW, since those were the first TF things I saw, and I thought her design was really cool (pink and blue are two of my favorite colors to pair together). I liked that she's experienced grief in her life, too. With Cyberverse, though, it was how much fun she was always having that I loved.

Huh, I'm just realizing that with Jazz, it's almost all the same traits? I was about to type that it was his coolness and competence but also how much fun he has? There are patterns here XD

12. If you could write as effortlessly as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write with this character?

I've managed to write a decent amount with Jazz and Elita at this point, but with Arcee, if I could just produce a story instantaneously, I'd write a long epic story about her bonding with Shadow Striker, or (file this one under things that would appeal solely to me) write a really long self-indulgent epic adventure in which she's the main character and she is created in the timeline in which the Autobots lost the War in "Rhythms of Darkness!" to protect a young Daniel Witwicky/renew the hope of the Autobots. For bonus self-indulgence, I could have Elita-1 be created around the same time and they could team up.

12. If you could draw as effortlessly as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw with this character?

I HAVE SO MANY COMICS AND THINGS WITH THEM IN MY HEAD mostly small gag strips! I'll give you an example I've never got around to:

ARCEE: I just love dark, evil ladies~!

[We see floating hearts with Airachnid, Nightbird, Shadow Striker, and Flamewar in them.]

CHROMIA: You do realize you can't fix them, don't you?

ARCEE: Chromia!!! They should be respected for who they are and don't need to be fixed! That's such an offesnive thing to say, especially about someone like Shadow Striker.

ARCEE: ...I could make them all worse :3

CHROMIA: Sometimes, you scare me.

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

I do sometimes do that to Jazz... proof:

Elita-1 and Arcee not so much, they can both sometimes be A Lot™️ and it can be funny to poke fun at that but I don't go overboard with it. ... ... ...Okay, admittedly I've affectionately bullied TFA Blackarachnia before because of how embarrassing the dynamic is/was between her and Optimus and Sentinel though lol

49. What's your favorite personality trait in this character?

For Elita-1 and Jazz, it's how they both bottle up all their suffering and trauma in order to embody heroic ideals for their cause (hey, didn't say it had to be a healthy trait). For Arcee, my favorite trait of hers is her emotional intelligence that enables her to offer a strong, valuable perspective in many scenarios.

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

The songs I associate most heavily with them are:

"Didn't We Almost Win It All" by Laura Branigan (Elita-1)

"The Singer" by The 5th Dimension (Jazz)

"Pink Whitney" by Scene Queen (Arcee... yes this is a major tone shift, I just always think of Cyberverse Arcee blasting people with a giant gun when I hear this song LMAO)

[alienoresimagines]

For the ask game, 1, 3, 15, and 28!

Thank you for the ask, Dawn ❤️ Starting with the last question because if I want anyone to remember one thing from this post, it's those recs so putting this in the Clegan tag for more visibility for the fic recs🫡

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much

The Mota fandom has so many talented writers who share absolute masterpieces so it was so so hard to narrow it down to 3 but I tried to put 3 authors I don't see as often as others in fic recs post and I hope that for those who don't know them, this'll be your sign to read their works ❤️ So, in no particular order and wih hope that I didn't mess up any link :

@amiserableseriesofevents (Link to AO3)

I devour absolutely every single one of Ginia's fics, even those that tear my heart apart because she's the devil and she loves to make everyone suffer. Some of her fics are the definition of "The love is there. It just simply isn't enough" and all of her fics are "The love is there". The way she writes the Buckies falling in love in different ways is so beautiful every single time, no matter what situation she's put them in. I remember Love At Second Sight to be one of the first fics I've ever read for Clegan and it'll always be one of my It fic. Also I think it takes a special kind of skills to be able to write characters in AU while keeping the essence of those characters because they are so shaped by canon that it can be hard to see who they are if you take those circumstances away but Ginia nails it every single time. She has a couple of different AUs, but they're all undeniably John and Gale, and reading them falling in love and getting together in all those different situations is so so wonderful because with her writing it doesn't feel like you're reading but more like you're there, like a little familiar on the protagonist shoulder <3 Only nobody hears when you inevitably howl because there was too much feeling for you to handle lol

Special mentions to those stories that have my entire heart :

I think the love I bear you should make you not to die or the Timelines AU my beloved, precious darling

The man I've looked for that may or may not be one of my comfort fics of all time

ships in the night aka I might just die if they don't meet again and their almost stays an almost because this AU has my life, I would sacrifice anything to have more of them

@caustinen (Link to AO3)

Obviously there's the Hollywood AU that has a very special place in my heart but every headcanon and fic of theirs 😍 I think about those quite often, especially sharp dressed man that's one of my favorite smut fic in the clegan tag! I just love their overall takes on Gale and John, and on Clegan. Even if it's not set in canon, it's always so clearly them that you have no difficulty picturing them in that universe and that really is a feat ❤️ And the diversity of all those universes is mindblowing, I love it, so much creativity and different scenarios to put the Buckies in 🥹

@majorbuckyegan (Link to AO3)

Definitely one of those writers I get a fangirl moment for when they write a comment on one of my fics lol, their never saw the sun shining so bright fic (or Five kisses that Bucky stole from Buck, and one kiss that Buck stole in return) lives in my head rent-free. I can't tell you how many times I've read it and imagined it as a daydream to help me fall asleep, it's one of my favorite fics in the entire world. Also I read it when I hadn't watched Mota yet so that's one of the fics that introduced me to them and I wouldn't be surprised if my own characterization of the Buckies is lowkey inspired by those works like this one that I've read before watching the show. It's so soft and tender, and yet you never really forget the war. The war is everywhere but so is the love and the balance between the two in every single fic is an absolute gem every time. For tonight, let's love like there's no goodbye is also one of my favorite fics in the fandom, the way you just go into John's head and his thoughts and you can feel how much they love each other is so 🥹❤️❤️

It's come to my attention that all three of these writers are also fantastic smut writers so that's important too, especially because personally, I'm not too much of a smut person, my favorite parts of smut are the feelings involved lol, and all three write pure love making, the feelings are so beautiful and merge so well with the smut, I love it 🥹

Also cheating a bit because technically that's a fourth writer but I have to mention you, Dawn 🥹 The Atonement AU is especially dear to my heart, and the snippets you've shared with us are absolutely stunning! I'm truly in love with your writing style, I don't know how to explain it but it's like the love Gale and John have for each other is so raw that it actually kind of chokes me up a bit, because it's so big and they love each other so much 🥹 And the way you weave words together is so lyrical and gripping that you don't just read what they're feeling, you're feeling it with them if you know what I mean. And I'm repeating myself but, even if I know it might not save them, the love in your writing is so overwhelming that it's obvious that you're loving writing it and that might be my favorite part of it <3

This was very nice to do, it's been a while since I've dived in my bookmarks like that! Also served me as a reminder that most of those 180 Clegan fics were bookmarked before I got the nerve to start commenting on fics so adding on the new Year's resolution to go through them again and leave a comment <3

That got very long so under the read more are the answers to the other questions :)

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Well. A typical me-fic starts as a could-be-2k-fic then I start yapping and it ends up over 6k so I suppose I'll try to think of what makes me yap the most. Definitely either pining that the protagonist (usually Gale lol) doesn't see is mutual or the Buckies already being in love and them waxing poetry about each other 🥹 So fluffy/pining love with too many metaphors is probably my comfort zone 🫡

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

I don't know if it's a trope per say, but horror or too gory stuff I'd say. I'm not really into reading it so writing it would be pure suffering I think 😂 Whump and wounds I might dip my toes in but body horror, painful transformation are definitely not in my range

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Oooh this is so tough because when I write I see the scenes in my head like a movie, like the camera closing on certain elements for examples 😭

I'd say either I'm On The Run With You My Sweet Love because I love the setting of the lake in a summer's day, how carefree they can both be and the softness of their love or Never Coming Down With Your Hand In Mine because I could see it so clearly in my mind while I was writing it, the way their hands compliment each other and the contrast between how rough they look vs how gentle they are with the other. Also I could really see the winter light filtering through the window, with little feckles of dust in the air and you can see them sitting side by side, all reddened cheeks from the cold that turn to blushes because they're both in love 🥹 I would love to see Gale's sweet face as he smiles at the ground and John's looking at him so fondly and loving 🥹 The shot of Gale squeezing John's hand back would be so special to me 🥹

[jerzwriter]

Thank you @liaromancewriter for this ask. Ethan x Kaycee, a kiss based on a place of insecurity. I know it was supposed to be under 1,000 words but, yeah... me. lol I hope you enjoy this

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan) Rating: Teen Words: 2,300 Summary: A bright day turns stormy when Kaycee overhears an conversation that leaves her doubting herself. Can Ethan help her see the light? Or will the lights flicker out?

A/N: Participating in @choicesjunechallenge2024 - Didn't use one of the prompts, but this fic shows Kaycee bridging her understanding of their relationship, and a new place for the two of them. (It kind of fits lol)

Kaycee clutched a brown paper bag in her hand as she navigated Edenbrook’s packed halls. Normally, shift changes were her least favorite time of day. She may be a city-dweller at heart, but she was a firm believer that crowds belonged outdoors, far away from confined spaces. But today, the beguiling smile on the resident's face as she pushed her way through the throngs of visitors and staff alike told another story. Today, the crowd was providing her with a perfect cover. Today, it was her friend.

She and Ethan were official for three months, and both of them were exuding that energy and glow that only new love delivered. For Kaycee, the difference wasn’t very noticeable; typically jovial and full-of-life, only those closest to her noticed her extra rosy glow or the way her smile shined just a bit brighter.

The same couldn’t be said for Ethan, and the changes in him had the hospital rivited. Recently, there were reports of him greeting passers-by with a nod and a smile. As far as anyone could tell, he hadn’t made an intern cry in weeks. There was even a vicious rumor that he was spotted whistling down the hall after the end of a double shift. The man appeared to be... happy, and everyone clamored to understand why.

He hadn’t suffered a head injury, and if the staff’s favorite gossip, Naveen, was privy to the reason, he was keeping it to himself. The rumor mill, desperate to uncover the cause of the transformation, watched Ethan closer than TMZ tracked Taylor Swift. Ethan and Kaycee found it amusing, laughing about it when they were safely absconded in his condo, or nuzzled together under the sheets of Kaycee's bed. But amusement aside, it presented a challenge for the couple who hoped to keep the nature of their relationship under wraps at Edenbrook... at least for now.

But Kaycee hadn’t seen him for two days, the longest amount of time they’d spent apart since professing their love for each other. The texts and calls they shared over the 48-hour period were nice but not nearly enough. She was desperate to see him before he left work for the day, and the chaotic halls provided her with the perfect cover.

Most of the staff was too busy to notice her slip into his private office, and if they had, the Derry’s Roasters bag in her hand would be her excuse. After all, a resident picking up Ethan's breakfast order on the way to work wasn't out of the ordinary. With a quick scan of the area and a smile on her face, Kaycee opened his office door. Mission accomplished!

Alas, it couldn’t be that smooth. She stood at the entrance of his L-shaped suite, still undetected, when melodic laughter wafted through the air, stopping her in her tracks. What happened next, left her heart racing.

“Oh, Ethan Jonah Ramsey,” a sultry voice belted out. “You have not changed one bit!”

“Really?” he replied, Kaycee couldn't miss the smile in his voice. “Some would see that as a negative. If I am the same as I was a decade ago, that indicates zero growth.”

“Stop,” the silky voice continued. “You’ve grown plenty! It’s an attribute that you’ve managed to keep your sense of humor... and that gorgeous smile. There's no shame in that!"

A brief silence hung in the room then sound of shuffling papers was met with Ethan loudly clearing his throat.

“Well... I appreciate you stopping by today. I’ll look over the proposal in more detail and have my assistant follow up with you, but I’m afraid I do have a meeting in five....”

Chairs sliding over the tiled floor let Kaycee know she had to leave. Rushing out the door in a flash, she took refuge in the nurses’ station just outside Ethan’s office. Tossing her bag under the counter, she buried her face in a file to remain unseen.

Ethan exchanged goodbyes with not one but two women, just yards away, but the loud hum of conversations and announcements over the PA system left his words unintelligible. But one thing was obvious... he sure looked happy.

“Dr. MacClennan,” Nurse Sarah called out, and Kaycee quickly turned her way. “Dr. Tanka was looking for you.”

By the time Sarah finished relaying his message, Ethan was gone, but the two women had set up a temporary spot nearby. Perched over a laptop on the nurses’ station counter, Kaycee had a bird’s eye view to observe.

The younger of the two was around her age. With her curly hair, rounded face, and a flowing floral dress, she looked like a modern-day cherub. Her laugh suited her but also made it plain that she wasn’t the one who had been talking to Ethan.

When the other woman looked up from her laptop, Kaycee let out a gasp. She was exquisite. Thick, shiny, jet-black hair just begging to be touched flowed down to the small of her back, and her crystal blue eyes were dazzling, looking as if they could pierce anything in their path. Kaycee had no idea who the designer of her red power suit was, but the color perfectly matched the soles of her stiletto heels. Yes, Christian Louboutin looked amazing on her, andas Kaycee gazed at her own washed-out scrubs and unconsciously tucked her messy bun back in place, she wondered, had Amal Clooney moved to Boston and become a pharmaceutical exec?

Kaycee felt ashamed. Usually the picture of self-confidence, she felt herself unraveling. Something about this stranger’s beauty, effortless elegance, and charisma tugged at every insecurity she thought she had buried long ago.

“How do you know him?” The younger woman asked.

“Ethan?”

Kaycee seethed at the way his name rolled off her tongue. Ethan. Not Dr. Ramsey; the utter familiarity struck her sharper than a sword.

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” she continued.

“So you’ve worked together before?”

The vision tapped a perfectly manicured nail on the counter as she appeared to gauge how much she should divulge. With her lips curling into a smug smile, she turned to her colleague with a bravado Kaycee hoped to one day possess.

“Worked... Yes. We worked together... amongst other things.”

“Ooooh! You and Dr. Ramsey!” The younger woman gasped as Kaycee's stomach churned.

“It was a long time ago,” the woman waved. “We were both relatively new to Boston at the time. But let's say it was memorable.”

“How did you date him and let him go? If I had a chance with a man like that, I would have locked him down!”

“Well,” the raven-haired beauty laughed. “We were quite young back then. I barely wanted a commitment, but Ethan? A prison sentence may have been more appealing. Of course... that was a decade ago, and if magic can strike twice, I promise there will be a different outcome this time."

Kaycee was frozen still, terrified someone might have heard how hard she swallowed or seen the abject fear in her eyes.

“It seemed like he enjoyed seeing you," the young woman smiled. "Maybe you’ll get that second chance after all."

Kaycee welcomed the sounds their high heels walking down the hallway, still, she couldn’t pry her eyes away. She was so engrossed that she hadn’t heard her name being called... several times.

“Dr. MacClennan!” Harper barked. “Is there something important that I’m keeping you from?”

Kaycee swung around in horror. “Oh, no! No, Dr. Emery. I’m so sorry, I was just... uh...I was lost in my thoughts. What can I do for you?”

She liked Harper... admired her... but Harper was the last person she wanted to see right now. Her self-confidence already teetering, here was another reminder of who Ethan had before her. Another brilliant, beautiful and poised woman who had already earned the respect of her peers. She was everything Kaycee hoped to be when she grew up, and as their conversation wrapped up, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this small.

Grabbing the bag from Derry’s from under the counter, Kaycee retreated to the empty diagnostic office. Pulling the muffin out, she began stuffing it into her mouth. Sorry Ethan, she thought, but I need this more than you.

After downing half of the carb-laden treat, she reclined on the sofa and shut her eyes. This mystery woman, Harper... they were both so much more than she was. All Kaycee could hear was the words of an acquaintance from long ago:

“Don’t date out of your league. When you do, you'll just spend your time worrying about how long before you’re replaced.”

The thing was, Kaycee never agreed with that sentiment, and even more, she never believed Ethan was out of her league. He didn’t treat her that way, and whenever they were together, with the aura of the magic they shared surrounding them, the thought never once crossed her mind. So why was she giving a complete stranger so much power?

She sat up in the darkened room and rested her weary head on her hands. Her shift officially started in just over ten minutes, and it was time to get herself together. She let out a groan as she tried to shake off the dark cloud that had enveloped her, just as the light switch flipped on and a worried Ethan looked her way.

“Kaycee? What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Escape had been just a moment a way; now, she looked up at her love hoping he didn't notice the embarrassment in her eyes.

“I'm not hurt," she replied. "Not unless you count my ego."

“I’m sorry?"

Thinking of the best way to approach this, she handed him the slobbered-over, half-eaten muffin to stall for time.

“This was for you....” she snickered as Ethan held the object at arms length.

“Uh... thank you?”

“I shouldn’t have eaten it...”

“Kaycee,” he said, placing the offending muffin back on the table where it belonged. “What’s going on. What’s wrong?”

She took Ethan’s hand and leaned back on the sofa with a sigh and instructed her boyfriend to make himself comfortable. She relayed the details of her morning adventures: how she hoped to surprise him and spend a little time together before her shift began, but she stumbled upon him and Amal Clooney.

“I’m sorry, who?”

“The inncredibly hot pharma rep that was in your office,” Kaycee clarified.

“Angelique?”

“Angelique. Great,” Kaycee muttered. “ Sexy name. I feel like I should dislike her even more now.”

She told him the rest of the story and how she was ashamed of herself for becoming so worried, but she felt helpless once it began to consume her. Ethan placed a hand lovingly on her knee.

“Kaycee, if I wanted to be with Angelique, or Harper for that matter, I would be. But I don’t want them. I don’t want anyone except for you.”

“I know that,” she whispered. “And you’ve done nothing to make me think otherwise; but, sometimes, when I’m alone or when I’m confronted with two perfect exes within a ten-minute span, I feel like every insecurity I’ve had in my life awakens, and those voices tell me I’ll never be enough.”

Ethan scooted closer to Kaycee and as he wrapped a loving arm around her shoulder, she felt the tiny bits of self-doubt that were remaining begin to melt away; and when he kissed her forehead, they were tone.

“Kaycee, I wish I could help you with this, but unless I’m doing something to make you feel insecure...”

“You’re not!” She interuppted.

“Well, then, all I can do is reassure you. You’ll have to work on the underlying causes on your own, but I promise you, with all my heart....you have nothing to worry about. In fact, sometimes I wonder if I'm good enough for you."

“Seriously?” She asked with a look of disbelief. “You don't think you're good enough for me?”

“Uh, do you see how other people look at you? Do you even realize how much you have to offer? There are many times when I’ve wondered why you wasted so much time waiting on this old man to come to his senses... but in case I haven’t told you lately, I’m so glad that you did.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, running her hand along his cheek. “You are pretty lucky.”

“You better believe I am.”

Ethan brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then placed a gentle buss on her lips. Their eyes met with a loving gaze, and he gave her another, then one more as her head tilted to the side and their lips came together so comfortably, there was no doubt they were meant to be.

Kaycee parted her lips and allowed his tongue to intertwine with hers. A rhapsody emotion washing over her as the tenderness grew more passionate, burning with a fire that defined all they had come to mean to each other.

Ethan reluctantly broke away with a smile. "Feeling better?"

“I sure am,” she beamed.

Ethan looked at his watch, then back to Kaycee with a seductive grin. “If I have your schedule down, you have ten minutes before your shift begins.”

“That’s right,” Kaycee smiled. “And how would you like to spend that time?"

"Isn't it obvious? Making out like we're between classes in high school. Are you in?"

"You better belive it," Kaycee laughed, pulling him into to another kiss.

When Kaycee walked out of the team's office ten minutes later, there was a smile on her swollen red lips and she didn't care about her disheveled scrubs. Amal Clooney had nothing on her. After all, she had Ethan Ramsey, and he had her, and they knew that was the only place they wanted to be.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others seperately.

[artsyacorn]

I love your art! Your ANOMALI3S AU makes me so sad and yearny. 🥹 Do you think you could share a little bit more about it? 🥺 The idea that Mabel’s desperate to undo things (and also confused?) just before she finds Lil Dip is so painful. They’re meant to be the Pines. 🥺 But the idea of Lil Mabel being enamoured with Mason, a Dipper that’s so detached from her? Annoyed by her? Delicious. You are COOKING!!

thank you so much! sure i can share a lil more about the corresponding dynamics and the angst/loss/(non spoilerish?) character death and such

For context: The twins only have each other in this AU as Stan got turned into an ANOMALY when protecting Mabel. Before things got worse, Ford managed to trap and capture Stan to monitor and research on his infection stages. And.. you can imagine how distraughted the young twins must be seeing their infected Grunkle strapped down onto a chair, knowing the parasite is just eating away at him and processing his brain's memories for mimicry.

Eventually, the government reached out to Ford asking him to assist with creating an antidote. He agreed to leave Gravity Falls behind in order to find a solution to save the world, leaving the twins with only a pair of keys that they wear around their neck that access emergency vaccine kits and gas masks in case spore exposure gets too high. (Will make another post more about the ANOMALI3S and its stages etc.)

TW: Grooming, Age gap

Older!Mabel x Younger!Dipper

It all started with the psychological thing with her unresolved trauma from losing her brother in her timeline, and she regrets turning him down in the most horrible way possible since that was how their relationship strained in the first place. The Dipper from her timeline would always remind her to take her pills daily to keep her sanity in line, but after the time trip she abandoned that one responsibility.

Mabel always wanted to apologise and tell him that they could try if they wanted to, but it just wasn't the right time because it was in the middle of the apocalypse and she was freaking out, so time and place really ruined it all for them.

So, because she doesn't really have the Dipper from her timeline to express these feelings, nor does she have her grunkles with her as an outlet to vent out her feelings, she ends up projecting it onto younger dipper by grooming him + Her sanity's gone down post-time trip, so i would say she's a tad bit obsessive and posessive and that led to falling for him hard.

Personally, I think this song suits their dynamic best:

"My head is made of shrubbery and my body made of stone, cause I can't for the life of me reap what I have sown." - Suffering, Amélie Farren

Older!Dipper x Younger!Mabel

Now, things are a little more angsty with these two. Dipper still being cold, indifferent and finding his sister annoying despite the time trip is one thing. But another is being slapped in the face with a wake up call reminding him that no matter what happens, they have always stayed by each other's sides. They've done it before, they can do it again.

Dipper softens up, but he still struggles to express or show that he still cares. After all, he had to put up this tough demeanor as a front to protect his sister. But internally, he can't stop thinking and worrying about the Mabel in his own timeline. Is she safe? Is she eating well? Is she taking her pills for her sanity? Did she find her way back?

He'd silently watch the younger Mabel's still happy-go-lucky self and hope that she doesn't turn out that way, not in this timeline. He's clinging onto that last piece of memory of her and cherishing it through acts of service — like piggybacking her whenever she's too tired to walk, or giving a bigger portion of his food to her with the reason that "she needs it to grow stronger".

Younger!Mabel falls in love with this Dipper — there's just something about him, from the matured masculinity to the tender acts of unspoken affection. He doesn't have to say anything, but she knows deep down that he loves her. He loves her too much to lose his sister again, so he'll make sure she's alive and healthy in this one.

Mabel would confess and kiss him first, and Dipper would turn her down in this timeline at first — something he internally just wanted to do out of spite for the Mabel in his own timeline. However, with time and slowly opening up, he starts to see and understand why he fell in love with her in the first place. Instead of saying anything that's gotta do with "taking back his words", he would just pull her into a deep kiss out of nowhere.

A song to describe their relationship dynamic:

"I'm too tired to move, too tired to leave. I'm tired of you still tied to me." - Hard Times, Ethel Cain

Anddddd there's pretty much what I've got written thus far! Let me know if you have any headcanon questions and such!