#who i do not believe knows the concept of twins

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Anon Ask: Wait wait so we have Bella’s mini me, the yan!romantic!Lestrange!OC x Twin!Weasley or criminal!Weasley

But

What about Yan!Malfoy!OC that’s Narcissa’s mini me just without the intense blood supremacy shit

Definitely magic supremacy, she’d wholeheartedly believe wizards and witches are better then muggles but having nothing against muggleborns/half bloods unless it’s personal beef

———

Pt.2 Draco makes a comment to Twin!Reader about never being able to “afford” a girl like Malfoy!OC when they’re on the Hogwarts Express for the first time and he catches them sharing a smile

He doesn’t understand what Draco means until Fred pats his shoulder and tells him that “girls like expect to be showered in champagne and diamonds and pretty flowers” and advises him to steer clear of her and Draco going forward

His inferiority complex thank you, Molly spirals to the point where Twin!Reader is doing dangerous and most likely illegal shit the more and more he develops feelings because maybe it’ll make Malfoy!OC and his mother really love him

If you wanna make it dramatic then Lestrange!OC is standing beside him almost every day wanting to pull out her hair because she’s right there and her cousin is just toying with his feelings knowing that she’ll never really sacrifice the Malfoy Fortune unless Twin!Reader proves he can provide

He does increasingly stupid shit as the years pass on like pursuing bounties the MoM put on dark wizards while holding a part time job during the summer months and finding a work around to participate in the Triwizard Tournament while selling/trading illegal materials at school

He knows that whatever chances existed are gone the moment Lucius Malfoy sits across from him at a poker table in some back room at a sketchy goblin run establishment and he smokes the table

————

I like to think that Yan!Malfoy!OC and Yan!Lestrange!OC are the same age and with that these two just have this deep seeded rivalry. They just always have. So when Lestrange!OC becomes obsessed with Weasley!Reader, Malfoy!OC sees this as another way to get at her cousin. I can imagine Malfoy!OC being someone who really craves and thrives off attention, just someone who prefers all eyes on her and when Weasley!Reader is doing the most to try and prove himself worthy of her (at least that’s what it looks like) she basks in it, wanting for even more constant attention. But she would never say that she liked Weasley!Reader or anything like that, this is strictly an ego boost for her and a way to get under her cousin’s skin.

I would really like to believe that Weasley!Reader isn’t going out of his way so much as to prove himself to the Malfoy’s or Malfoy!OC but instead he’s doing so to prove to himself that he is capable of so much more than what people think of him. Especially his mother and now the Malfoy’s. He’s not trying to earn Malfoy!OC’s affections like she and everyone else is under the impression of, no what he’s actually doing is finally putting his foot down. Weasley!Reader has put up with a lot, he’s already treated like shit at home by his own mother, he’s not just gonna let someone else treat him the same all over again in the only place he feels even remotely safe and comfortable. And I like to think that this only lasts for a bit, not too long, until Weasley!Reader just has enough of feeling like he needs to do anything to prove himself at all anymore and he just stops completely. Stops giving anything of himself to Malfoy!OC especially cause it’s one thing to have to deal with his mother but he can just walk away from Malfoy!OC and ignore her. The poor boy is just tired. So tired.

But in being ignored, Malfoy!OC instead finds herself at a loss. No one has just up and ignored her before, save for Lestrange!OC, so this is a completely foreign concept to her. At first, she tries to brush it off and act like it’s whatever, if anything this is better cause then she won’t be having to waste her own time on measly Weasley!Reader and his shenanigans. But the longer Weasley!Reader doesn’t even so much as spare her a glance, Malfoy!OC is left feeling empty. She doesn’t want to admit how much she actually looked forward to Weasley!Reader’s attention, how warm she felt inside whenever he came back proud of himself after accomplishing some new endeavor or when he ended up bringing something new from one of his many ventures to prove himself capable. Like, the time he gifted her a Basilisk fang after killing the one in the Chamber of Secrets. (He didn’t gift her shit, he tossed it on the table in the Slytherin common room after coming back from saving Ginny and fighting for their lives. Malfoy!OC just took it as a gift meant for her.) I guess you could say Malfoy!OC is experiencing withdrawals. She’s so out of sorts not having Weasley!Reader seeking her out anymore that she almost doesn’t know what to do with herself. More often than not she’s left just to watch as Weasley!Reader gives the attention he use to put towards her towards Lestrange!OC now. Not like he wasn’t giving her cousin attention before but now that’s all Malfoy!OC sees. And she hates it. She wants his eyes back on her, she wants to be the only thing he looks at. What started off as Weasley!Reader proving himself ends with Malfoy!OC now trying to prove herself more deserving of his attention than her cousin ever could be.

Malfoy!OC would turn into a complete stalker after being ignored and basically abandoned by Weasley!Reader. She is everywhere he goes, she sees and hears everything that goes on with and around him. When the Zabini’s take Weasley!Reader in and under their wings, Malfoy!OC is now making more appearances at the Zabini home when he’s over. And whenever the chance, she’s interrogating Blaise for as much more information as she can get her hands on. Like, Malfoy!OC gets so bad to the point where even Dobby is warning Weasley!Reader, and that’s before he ever started working for him. Or Dobby is reaching out to Lestrange!OC in hopes of her being able to do something, whether it’s to get Malfoy!OC to back off altogether or to just be there for Weasley!Reader. Either way, Malfoy!OC just does a whole downward spiral into obsession. Don’t even get me started on when she demands her parents arrange a marriage between her and Weasley!Reader. After all he’s pureblood so it’s fine and he’s obviously nothing like the rest of his family, so why can’t she have him at the end of the day? All just cause Daddy Lucius is a sore loser? Whatever, he can get over it. Otherwise, Malfoy!OC is going to throw the biggest bitch fit ever seen in Malfoy history.

The rivalry between Lestrange!OC and Malfoy!OC will only become all the more intense after Malfoy!OC’s own obsession kick starts. These two will be at each other’s throats even more than they already were. The only time they can even be considered as remotely ‘working’ together is when it comes to someone else trying to swoop in on Weasley!Reader. Only then is it not “my darling”, but rather “our darling”. Could the two possibly ever come to the capability of sharing, maybe but it’ll never truly be peaceful. There will always be competition but hey at least they both get the same thing at the end of the day, right?

[stickers-on-a-laptop]

they broke through guys spacy defenses??? my mebius oc, isana hoshi, you have let us down

[elisedonut]

Trans boy Percy can be a lot of fun

just a lot of people have a tendency to make it something he comes out about Pre-canon and that it changes nothing

while I'm over here like I firmly believe that Molly would not have continued having kids if she thought she already had a daughter

and i think she would be annoying as hell about him figuring himself out I just think she would be so disrespectful about it

Molly would be a "but your ruining yourself! you are my baby girl!" while crying type of parent and I believe that in my heart

She would guilt trip Percy like crazy about it while feeling 100% like she's doing the right thing.

Do I think that maybe she would realize after a few years that she's being absolutely terrible? I mean like I would hope so

[arolesbianism]

I <3 transmasc Wendy because it adds another thing to the kid who does not know how to handle anything being thrown into everything pile but instead of a thing like dead sister it's the prospect that he kind of likes having short hair and the idea of being a guy and it still makes him feel like the world is ending until suddenly the ppl around him are just like fine with it and everything is like cool actually and he melts over that too until finally he's just a normal baby trans person and can get back to being bad at coping with his other hashtag issues again

[catastrophex]

starter for @inseparableduo

Plagg is the tensest Adrien has ever felt him be, hidden in his jacket pocket, but he doesn't really understand why, looking at this girl, who really seems to be around his age. Maybe even a little younger? Why is Plagg so bothered by a seemingly normal girl?

Plaag isn't usually bothered by anything, even when he should be.

"Uh, salut," he says slowly, then smiles, "I'm Adrien! Are you from around here? I know Paris is a big city so this doesn't mean much, but I've never seen you around before."

He always introduces himself upon meeting new people, even though few in the city won't know his name. Hell, he's pretty sure his face is on a billboard behind him, but he refuses to turn around to look and confirm that.

[radiance1]

"Mom, Dad. I have something to tell you."

Danny said, twin rings going up and down his body respectively as he went ghost. Then back as he turned back to Danny.

"Tada..?" He said, shaking his hands after he was finished.

Jack and Maddie sat silent on the other side of the table, eyes wide as they just... Stared at him. His mom's hands were over her mouth, while his dad's mouth just hung open.

Jack pushed himself away from the table, getting up and walking out of the room.

"Honey!" Maddie said, turning to look in his direction. She briefly glanced between Danny and the doorway, before getting up herself and following after Jack.

Danny looked down, placing his hands down on the table and interlocking them as an uneasy smile graced his face.

'Fuck.' He thought. 'I should've done this when Jazz was here.'

Now, Danny isn't scared of his parents per se. Having escaped from them multiple times up until this very moment, and having fought and won over ghosts that embodied concepts toughened him up considerably.

But, just because he isn't scared doesn't mean he isn't uneasy.

He really should have waited for Jazz-

"Danny," His mother's voice broke him out of his thoughts as she walked back into the room and took her seat. She rubbed a hand against her temple, looking down at the table. "Your father... Needs a moment. Just to collect his thoughts, alright?"

"Uh, yea I understand." Danny pulled his hands back and down into his lap.

Maddie gave the movement a brief glance, but chose not to comment.

"Listen, this..." Maddie released a breath, placing her hands down on the table and interlocking her fingers. "Is news that neither of us ever expected, and frankly it is hard to believe that you aren't just a ghost who took the body of my son-"

Danny's breath hitched.

"-But I want, no." Her eyes hardened, forcibly releasing the tension from her shoulders. "I need to give you a chance. This, a chance. Before I do something I might regret." There was something in her eyes that Danny couldn't recognize, and he fought to keep looking into her eyes.

"Th-That's good." He said, bringing a hand up to rub against the back of his neck. "Yea. Good. Good." He couldn't help but look down, digging his fingers into his thigh.

Fuck. Why was he trembling?

He's had way, way worse than this. Survived way worse than this. It's just his parents. Just his regular old, maybe a bit hyper fixated and ghost hating parents that threatened to dissect him on various occasions and tried to do the same to other ghosts-

Danny dug his fingers a bit deeper, forcibly exhaling.

Just. His parents.

"How long." His head snapped back up to Maddie as she spoke, it didn't seem to be a question. Something she seemed to realize as she softened slightly. "How long, have you been a ghost?" She asked, quietly, softly.

There was something there that Danny, despite everything, couldn't identify.

"Since," He started, before swallowing when his mouth felt dry all of a sudden. "Since you guys. Um. Built the portal." His fingers dug into his neck, and he felt something wet under his nails and a stinging on his neck before he pulled away and put it into his lap. "And, you know. Thought it didn't work."

Maddie's breath hitched, and her eyes screwed shut. Interlocked hands tightening on the table as her lip quivered.

"I..." She began, slowly. Voice trembling before she smoothed it back out, trying to restore some semblance of calm. "I see." She exhaled, slowly. Still keeping her eyes closed.

It... Hurt. To see her like this. To see his mother so shaken up.

He shouldn't have told them.

But it seemed to be going well.

Was it even worth it?

He hopes it keeps going well.

He should have just kept it a secret.

"The portal." She finally began again when her hands stopped shaking. "It opened on you, didn't it? And then you-" She paused, trying to get the words out. "You died. Didn't you?"

Danny nodded, before remembering that her eyes were still closed. "Y-eA." He said, voice breaking at the end.

He was glad her eyes were closed, just because she couldn't see the embarrassment on his face.

"I was hoping you would say no." Maddie said, reopening her eyes and looking down at her hands. "I so, so desperately want to believe this to be some trick by Phantom or- well, you. I want this to be a prank, or some nightmare, and to just wake up and know that you're still alive-"

"Well, I am." Danny shrugged, eyes darting towards a nearby wall. "Technically, half and half, y'know?" He said, making a so-so gesture.

"Are you?" She asked, eyes narrowing slightly as she looked up at him. "That would explain why you don't look like a ghost, but-"

She paused, eyes widening.

Okay, now this Danny could recognize.

Recognition and horror.

"Oh... Oh God." She looked back down hands breaking apart as one covered her mouth. She shook in her seat, hunching in on herself. "We-We chased you. Shot at you and said we would rip you apart." Her eyes grew wet, tears slipping down her cheeks. "We wanted to dissect you and said it in front of your face."

"Well, technically it would be a vivisection-"

Maddie closed her eyes, a sob ripping from her throat.

Danny shut his mouth.

Danny watched as his mother cried on the opposite side of the table. At this moment, for some reason, she looked so far from him. Like he could reach out, climb over the table, and still not reach her. Like there was some great, unfathomable distance, between them.

He looked down at the table, at his hands. One of them, the one he dug into his thigh, felt wet. He pulled away his hand, and saw... Well, blood.

Weird.

He didn't feel anything.

"I'm sorry." His mother sobbed, and for some reason her voice seemed so quiet even as he looked up at her. He could see her, yet why did she seem so far away? "I'm so, so sorry." She said.

And Danny...

Danny didn't know what to do.

[maximoffsgirl]

Peace in Chaos

summary: You can’t say no to the twins; Wanda, can’t say no to you. It’s a dynamic that often works in their favor—especially when they desperately want something. The twins know that, if all else fails, they can rely on you to soften Wanda’s resolve, even if they trick you along the way.

warnings: Established relationship, Wanda and Reader are married. Domestic Life. The twins are close to 7/8 years old. Wanda is referred as mama/mom, Y/N is referred as mommy. Otherwise, I think there's none, this is pure fluff

author's note: English isn't my first language :) and to the anon who requested this, I hope this is what you were thinking about❤️

word count: 3.311

not proofread!

When Wanda first joined the Avengers, she spent much of her time locked away inside the room they designated as hers, finding solace in the company of old books she had never had the chance to read before. Among those books, she stumbled upon a collection of poetry and came across a single phrase, quoted by Emily Dickinson; a phrase which was still written at the beginning of the diary Clint had gifted her for Christmas when the Avengers Tower became her home: "The heart wants what it wants, or else it does not care."

At first, Wanda found the phrase peculiar. How could her heart, which had never known a single day of peace, possibly want anything? Yet, as time passed, she began to understand. It was precisely because her heart had endured so much chaos that it longed for something different.

Stability was a foreign concept to Wanda. Her life had always been beyond her control, and when her powers came into the picture, they only added to the turmoil. But the constant inconsistency made Wanda’s heart want one thing more than anything in the whole world. A family.

She yearned for a family like the one she once had. A family she could come home to at the end of the day, where she could sink into the couch with the weight of the week pressing down on her shoulders - an uncomfortable ache, yet in a place where she felt comfortable. An environment where a television program no one was really watching played softly in the background while someone shared the details of their day. Wanda’s heart craved for care and tenderness, something solid yet gentle—a sanctuary that felt soft, safe, and unshakably real.

After the life she had lived—always running, fighting, and losing—it felt almost unbelievable that Wanda now had everything she had ever wanted cradled in her arms. Hard to believe, I know. But with your head resting against her chest, your body nestled between her legs as you scrolled through your phone, Wanda was certain that she needed nothing more. She closed her eyes  briefly, letting herself savor the peace, the warmth, and the steady rhythm of your breathing.

The sounds from your phone mingled with the lively chatter drifting down from upstairs, where the twins were deeply immersed in a passionate debate about something. It was chaos. But it was her chaos. A chaos that she chose and was looking forward to every single day live in. 

“Hm? What are you doing?” Wanda asked, her arms tightening around you as you started to move. Her voice was soft but carried a hint of reluctance. She tilted her head a little to the side, wanting to know what you were planning. 

You turned to face her, a small smile on your lips. “We forgot to put the plates in the dishwasher,” you replied casually, as if that alone was enough reason to leave Wanda's embrace. To your wife, it definitely wasn't.

Wanda let out a low, drawn-out groan, clearly unenthusiastic about you leaving the comfort of her body pressed against yours. She held you a little tighter, silently protesting your attempt to get up.

“Don’t you need to finish your mission report?” you teased gently, raising an eyebrow at her reaction. Your words made her sigh in mild defeat. She had mentioned earlier that she needed to wrap up her mission report after dinner. It wasn’t a task she enjoyed—especially when it meant sacrificing time with you—but it was something she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she hated it.

“I do,” she complained, her tone carrying a mix of annoyance and reluctance. Her thumb gently brushed against your cheek. It was obvious she didn’t want to move, but the mission report wasn’t going to complete itself.

Before either of you could say more, a sudden, loud noise from upstairs interrupted the moment. Both your heads turned toward the ceiling in unison. Wanda frowned, her brows knitting together as she stared at the source of the commotion.

“What are they doing up there?” she muttered, her voice tinged with both curiosity and a hint of irritation.

“Probably destroying your things,” you joke, smirking at her. Wanda didn’t share your amusement; instead, she shot you a stern look, her concern evident. That only made you chuckle softly.

“Relax, baby” you murmured, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips, your way of soothing her. With a lazy stretch, you slipped out of her warm embrace, earning a soft groan of protest as you stood. “I’ll get the dishes,” you said with a playful shrug, heading toward the kitchen while Wanda remained on the couch. 

She reached out for you, calling your name with a playful pout on her lips, as if trying to coax you back into her arms. But all she got in response was a teasing kiss blown in the air, followed by a few more chuckles from you. "You're impossible," Wanda muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched, hinting at a smile she couldn’t quite suppress

A few minutes later, Wanda mirrored your actions with a resigned sigh. With a stretch and a yawn, she slowly pushed herself off the couch, kissing your shoulder once she moved past the kitchen to her home office. She opened the door with another huff, the thought of that mission report weighed heavily on her, already draining her energy before she even began.

As peaceful as the silence was, it didn’t last longer than fifteen minutes—a brief reprieve, but in a house with twins, it felt like a blessing. The twins knew better than to disturb Wanda when her office door was closed, understanding the importance of letting her work in peace. However, today was different. They had something important to ask her, and they were certain that mama wouldn’t mind being interrupted if it was truly important.

Wanda, ever attuned to the sounds around her, heard the soft footsteps and hushed whispers before the three gentle knocks echoed on her office door. She glanced down at the mission report in front of her, then dropped her pen onto the pile of papers near the notebook, her attention fully shifting to the interruption. 

“Yes?” she called out, her voice loud enough to reach her sons, signaling they had permission to enter.

The door creaked open slightly, and two sets of curious eyes peeked through the gap. First, Tommy, with his usual impatience, then Billy, who always seemed a bit more cautious. Their wide eyes and raised eyebrows said it all—they had something to ask. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them, her stern demeanor softening instantly. She gestured for them to come in, her smile softening as she watched them shuffle inside, their little hands fidgeting with each other in anticipation.

“Is everything alright?” Wanda asked, her voice filled with the kind of tenderness that only a mother could provide.

The twins, true to their age, began poking and nudging each other, whispering in hushed tones while they stood in front of their mother - who was looking at them with amusement as they continued to argue who would be the one to initiate the conversation. 

“Mom, we have something super important to ask. But… promise you’re going to listen first” Billy tried to negotiate, his little feet shuffled nervously as he spoke. Tommy, by his side, nodded his head in support, his wide-eyed expression practically daring Wanda to disagree.

Wanda arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched her boys’ antics. Leaning back in her chair, she murmured a soft, “Okay…” her tone amused yet curious, ready to hear what the twins were planning. 

“So.. we saw something on the internet..”

That wasn’t entirely true. Long before the twins were even born, you and Wanda had agreed, in a heartful parenting talk, that unrestricted internet access wouldn’t be part of your children’s childhood. That being established, the closest the twins got to the “internet” was their tablets - with a few games they begged to have since all their friends were active on and the little maximoffs were being left out- streaming shows, and, on some occasions like weekends, YouTube videos.

Still, Wanda stayed quiet, her expression neutral as she listened to Tommy’s words. Even if he couldn’t possibly get whatever their idea was from the ‘internet; more likely, he was just saying it as an excuse to shift the responsibility off himself and his brother. 

“And we wanted to try.. We wanted to have a night pool party”

Wanda arched an eyebrow, glancing between her sons with growing curiosity. She had a sneaking suspicion about where this was headed but decided to feign ignorance, opting to play along.

"A night pool party..." Wanda repeated slowly, dragging out the words with a hint of amusement as she looked at her sons. Her lips twitched with a barely suppressed smile. "And where would this happen, exactly?"

"Here! Tonight! We've already planned everything," Tommy blurted out, his words tumbling over each other in his excitement.

Billy immediately hissed at his brother, shooting him a sharp glare. That definitely wasn’t part of the carefully rehearsed convincing speech they had agreed on beforehand. 

Wanda frowned, her amusement fading. If it were any other season, the idea might not have bothered her as much. But her sons wanting to swim in the freezing water of the pool outside? That was a firm no. The idea would only serve so they’d catch a cold and be miserable for the rest of the week. Besides, late hours weren’t meant for pool parties—especially not in this weather and not with the age they had. 

There they stood in front of her: matching cozy pajamas, hair lazily brushed back, and fresh-faced from their recent bath. They looked absolutely adorable, and Wanda couldn’t bear the thought of letting their idea ruin that. Spring was just around the corner, and while her children were undeniably the cutest in the world, she had no interest in dealing with two sick little ones—especially when even the smallest sneeze turned them into impossibly needy bundles of chaos.

“No. It's not even hot.” she simply replied, looking back to the now black screen of her notebook. 

“But mom,” the twins protested in unison, their voices carrying the familiar tone of pleading.

Wanda, however, was unmoved. Her decision was final, and she wasn’t about to budge. Crossing her arms, she gave them a firm but gentle look that clearly said, not happening.

“No is no, boys. I’m not going to repeat myself. When it's hotter we can think about it”

The twins left her office with matching little huffs, their quiet complaints trailing behind them. They knew better than to argue further or try to reason with their mother—her decision was final, as always.

But the twins, as stubborn as any Maximoff to ever walk the Earth, weren’t ready to give up just yet. Instead, they exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them. They’d just have to come up with another strategy.

It was no secret that, between you and Wanda, you were the parent more likely to entertain the wild ideas your sons came up with. Camping in the backyard? Of course. Nearly a liter of milkshake, even if it was freezing outside? Without a doubt. If it sounded fun, you were usually on board.

You didn’t blame Wanda for seeing things differently. After everything she had endured in her life, control and structure brought her a sense of peace she had rarely known before. Ensuring that the household stayed balanced and comfortable wasn’t just her way of parenting—it was her way of feeling secure.

But that didn’t make her the “boring parent.” If you asked the twins, they’d insist that mama was just as fun as mommy. Sure, she was a little scarier when she got angry, but that only made her the perfect balance to your more carefree approach.

Although they knew better than anyone how to take advantage of your different personalities.

At times like this, when Billy and Tommy had their hearts set on something, they knew they could always count on you to try convincing Wanda to let them have their way.

Sometimes it didn’t work—after all, undermining Wanda’s authority wasn’t part of your parenting playbook, nor was it in hers. But there were moments when a little push for compromise didn’t hurt, especially for something harmless enough to reconsider.

That’s why you felt two little fingers poking each of your shoulders while you scrolled through your phone on the couch. Turning around, you were met with the two most adorable faces you’d ever seen.

“Hi, boys. Already tired of breaking the house upstairs?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

They responded with cheeky smiles, and without a word, Billy climbed up to sit beside you on the couch, Tommy quickly settling in next to his brother. Their mischievous grins told you they had something up their sleeves.

“Mommy…” Billy trailed off, his voice sweet and direct. “Can we have a swim party tonight?”

His question was much more straightforward than Tommy’s had been when they’d asked Wanda.

You frowned slightly at the idea. The weather wasn’t exactly cold, but it certainly wasn’t warm enough to make a pool party seem like the best choice. You thought about it for a moment. The pool was clean, they’d have fun, and it might tire them out enough for an easy bedtime.

“Hm. Why not?” you said with a shrug, giving in to their request. The twins smiled, happy to finally receive a ‘yes’ to their idea. 

“Can you convince mama then?” Tommy asked eagerly, his excitement practically radiating off him. Billy let out another huff, clearly annoyed by his brother's impatience.

You turned your body to face them, a sigh escaping your lips as you realized you'd fallen for one of their tricks, again

“Don’t turn this on me, boys,” you said, shaking your head. But when they hit you with those puppy-dog eyes, you knew you were in trouble. You sighed again, giving in.

“Okay, I guess I could try to convince her... but if she doesn’t budge, I won’t try again, alright?”

The twins nodded eagerly, their smiles growing wider once they got you to agree with their idea. You ruffled both of their messy hairs playfully before standing up, a smile tugging at your lips as you made your way toward Wanda’s office. The twins’ giggles echoed behind you, but you knew you had your work cut out for you if you were going to convince Wanda.

Just like your sons, you approached Wanda’s office quietly, giving a few light knocks before stepping inside. Wanda, who was about halfway through her report, looked up and smiled at the sight of you. Grateful for the excuse to take a break, she rolled her chair back slightly and patted her lap, inviting you to sit.

You settled sideways on her lap, and Wanda wasted no time wrapping one arm around your waist, pulling you close, sighing with the familiar weight of your body upon hers

“How’s it going?” you asked, your fingers working gently at the tense muscles in her neck. Wanda let out a soft sigh, her smile a blend of contentment and fatigue.

“Annoying, as always,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of frustration. Her hand drifted to your thigh, her fingers lightly running over the fabric in soothing motions as she added with a small smile, “But I’m halfway through it”.

“You know... the twins mentioned something about a night swim tonight,” you said casually, your tone light but deliberate. “And, apparently, I’ve been tasked with convincing you,” you added playfully, though there was a touch of seriousness behind your words.

“Have you now?” Wanda replied, her voice mirroring your playful tone but laced with even more amusement. She arched an eyebrow knowingly, already piecing together where this conversation was heading.

“I know you already said no, but they’re so excited about it, Wands,” you said, trying to play the kids’ happiness card against her. Wanda rolled her eyes, a small smirk tugging at her lips. She saw right through your game but decided to let you play it anyway.

“And just think about it,” you continued, your hands gently moving along her neck, down to her shoulders, and back up again in soothing motions. “We can turn on the pool LEDs, make it fun. They’ll tire themselves out, and bedtime will be so much easier.”

You laid out the positives, your tone soft but persuasive, waiting patiently for her response.

“Love.. I know. But it’s late and It’s not even hot” She tried to resonate with you, sighing with each argument, knowing she has already lost. 

“They’ll be alright, babe. Let them have this,” you said with a convincing smile.”

Wanda let out a heavy sigh, her expression unamused as she looked at you. “If they catch a cold, you will be the one taking care of them,” she said firmly, pointing a finger at you for emphasis.

But despite her words, you both knew the truth. If that scenario played out, Wanda would be right there, rolling her eyes but still doting on the sick twins, as she always did.

You stayed wrapped in her embrace for a while, both of you savoring the quiet presence of each other. Wanda adjusted you on her lap, shifting just enough to free both hands so she could continue working on her report. You rested your head against her shoulder, your warm breath brushing against her neck, which made her smile softly despite her focus on the task.

The content of the report didn’t matter to you now—you’d already heard all about the mission the day after she got home. So you stayed quiet, simply enjoying the comforting warmth of her body and the peaceful moment you were sharing.

After that,  you and Wanda made your way to the living room, stepping in quietly. The twins were curled up on the couch, watching something on Netflix, completely oblivious to your arrival. Wanda stepped forward, arms crossed, hands on her hips, and her head tilted in mock frustration.

“I can’t believe you both!” she exclaimed, her tone sharp and disapproving.

The twins froze, their eyes widening as they turned to face you both. Wanda’s intimidating stance and your almost-guilty expression made them shrink in their spots, unsure of what they’d done.

“What are you two doing? You should be getting ready for the swim party!” Wanda said, feigning exasperation but failing to hide the faint twitch of a smile.

The twins blinked at her, then at each other, before springing up from the couch in pure joy. “Oh my god, seriously?!” Tommy shouted.

“YESSS!” Billy cheered, both of them jumping around excitedly as they circled their mothers, their energy contagious.

Soon, the house transformed into its familiar brand of chaos. The twins, now dressed in their swimsuits, were already splashing around in the pool, the colorful glow of the LED lights—courtesy of Tony Stark—dancing across the water. Their laughter echoed through the backyard, only occasionally interrupted by shouts of, "It's so cold!" Wanda, unimpressed, responded with a dramatic eye roll, her arms folded across her chest.

Standing at the edge of the pool, Wanda kept her distance, her arms wrapped firmly around her waist as she watched the scene unfold. She made no effort to join the fun, choosing instead to watch with a raised eyebrow and an air of feigned detachment. Yet, the slight tug at the corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement.

Somehow, despite her initial objections, Wanda found a sense of peace in the chaos surrounding her. The sound of Tommy and Billy's laughter brought a soft smile to her face, and she even chuckled at your playful teasing—directed at both her and the twins.

Two days later, the inevitable happened. The twins began sneezing, and you found yourself on the receiving end of a very pointed lecture from Wanda. But, as always, her frustration melted away with a sweet kiss, leaving her shaking her head in exasperated affection.

It was a different kind of chaos—one filled with sniffles, tissues, and extra cuddles—but it was hers. Wanda’s heart had finally found something. Had finally found peace in the beautiful mess of it all.

✄╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it💌

masterlist

[joicecubes]

hey guess who’s absolutely losing it over the stan twins again (spoiler alert its me)

so i was innocently scrolling tiktok when i was introduced to this DIABOLICAL au idea: firstly, what if ford really had shot stan with his crossbow when stan first showed up at the shack? and secondly, what if ford tried to bring him back to life frankenstein-style? (full credit to tiktok user @44boora for this idea, go check their account for some gut-wrenching art) (also… full post below the cut this got long)

but like i was thinking about this, ford bringing stan back to life specifically, and how dependent the concept is on this specific time in his life. i just feel like any other time and under any other circumstance, ford would have been able to, eventually, accept stan’s death. we see it at the end of weirdmageddon, where ford is ready to accept that the stan they all know and love is gone now that his memory has been erased. he tells mabel as much, and only realizes there’s hope for him when mabel is determined enough to push back against ford’s logic. ford believes very intensely in his own perception of the world. he believes in science. theoretically, he believes death is death, and there’s nothing he can do to change that.

but then, think of ford after he’s been betrayed by bill. this ford is at his absolute lowest. he can’t trust his own perception of the world anymore. he’s seen the truth of what their relationship was and the horrors he was so close to unleashing on their universe. he is desperate to right his wrongs. he’s losing sleep, his body is abused every time he closes his eyes, and the end of the world as he knows it is iminent if he doesn’t succeed in making the portal as secure and unusable as possible without dismantling it entirely. the only person he believes he can trust after everything that’s happened is stan. so he contacts him for help, and in his time waiting for him to arrive, cannot stop thinking of the worst-case scenario: that bill could still be coming for him. so when he opens the door to stan, his high-strung, paranoid brain doesn’t see stan, and he shoots.

he shoots his own brother with a crossbow and kills him.

ford is not usually one to blatantly ignore a scientific fact. again, death is death, and there’s nothing he can do about that. and yet, in a state of such intense grief, when his entire world is already close to crumbling around him and he’s holding his dead brother in his arms, there’s nothing else he can feasibly do but deny. so he does.

he lives in denial of a lot of things. that stan’s death is final, obviously, but also his reasonings for attempting to do the impossible and revive him. ford likes to believe he operates purely on logic, so he tells himself he’s doing this because he has to. without stan, he can’t prevent bill from entering their universe. he’s still the only person ford can trust, so reviving him is another step in his ultimate goal of stopping bill and saving the world. it doesn’t matter that its never been done before, ford will do it anyway. and he believes that he can, because as much as he thinks he’s moved on from his hubris, he’s still acting off the assumption that he’s special. he’s so far ahead of everybody else, so naturally, if anybody could accomplish the impossible and bring stan back from the dead, its ford.

and so he denies that the real reason he’s trying to save stan is not a logical one. he denies that he’s running entirely on emotions. it would be foolish to try something so risky and impossible and time-consuming if he were only doing it because of his crushing guilt and decade-long yearning, so he tells himself there’s so much more to it than that. he can’t just be doing this because he loves him, right? he’s not that shallow. he’s not that desperate.

and yet, he is. because as much as ford wants to deny it, he can’t live without stan. he can’t live with the knowledge that he was responsible for stan’s death. if he didn’t succeed, his grief would surely kill him.

[mahoganyrust]

@frosti-moon “Both of them wearing (mostly) historically accurate Norse clothes? I love seeing how different artists design those.”

I may have gone overboard…messy in some places but that’s bc I was impatient to draw the frost idfk-

Here we have Chief Hiccup and Winter Spirit Jack

Nice throwback to my God of War days for inspo. Hiccup’s a bit of a mix of Kratos/Odin/Tyr while Jack is a mix of Baldur/Freya + Pandora from the old games.

I swear to all that is good, if someone calls him Jokul Frosti one more time I’m gonna rant- Actually fuck it ima rant in advance.

Ahem.

People really like the idea of Jack being “Jokul Frosti”, especially if they are exploring concepts with an old setting where Jack is further back in time. I loved it when I first came across it because duh pretty awesome. And ofc many believe that is where the name “Jack Frost” derived from. It’s cool. However, I have since done enough research to decide this isn’t very accurate.

In Norse mythology the God of wind and voice, Kari, has two sons. Some sources say otherwise and that it’s just one son - Jokul Frosti, but fuck that, my sources are older.

Kari has *two* sons - Jokul AND Frosti. They were two bros. Their names mean Icicle and Frost. Jokul went on to have a bunch of kids who were all very winter themed. It also makes more sense bc (especially in Norse stuff) it’s very odd to come across a mythological figure with two names. Think of all the gods you know, MOST are going by one. Plus it’s weird…like why is his name two things? Icicle Frost? What? Pick one. Brev it don’t make sense. It don’t add up. Most minor Norse gods are having just the one main brand right? (The big dogs like Odin, Freya, Freyr etc etc usually have side hustles tho, but we ain’t talking about them).

So what I think has happened is that somewhere down the line, probably through oral conversation, the two brothers and their names got merged into one person. Then after the merge, Jack Frost came about, hence our predicament.

Like- ya’ll do wut ya want but I personally think the Winter Twins are a better idea for our fan stuff. In my headcanon (and in my fic) they are more like Jack’s wacky adopted-uncle-types that left him their power after they kicked the bucket cos they thought he was a pretty cool mortal. Like Manny brought him back but like- so did they at the same time. Double whammy. Anyways. ✌️thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

[messylustt]

obsessed ( believe me ) — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : scream after ethan revealed himself as ghostface to you, you try to tell the group, hoping they’ll believe you…but ethan has other plans.

contents : surprisingly nothing sexual. a kiss. this is mainly the repercussions + plot after ethan’s reveal. wc 2.1k.

pt one pt two pt three

you had locked your door tight every night whenever you’d be home. you couldn’t let a ghostface get in, you couldn’t let…ethan get in. god, the concept that he’s a killer now confuses and scares you at the same time. if ethan can kill then christ, everyone should be wary of everyone.

you aggressively mix the cupcake batter. you had grown guilty and…well…confused. you hadn’t told the group. though you haven’t had the time—you haven’t seen them since the party. so, it’s not entirely your fault. you need to tell them. they could die if you don’t.

with a final whisk you begin to pour the batter into the cupcake tins. there’s no harm in giving them something tasty as you drop the charming bomb. You place the tin in the oven, already preheated. clicking the timer you pause. what if they don’t believe you?

the carpenter sisters and martin-meeks twins have known you the same length as they have ethan. shit, you should have gotten proof, something that would show your not just pointing the finger. you rest against the counter, watching as the cupcakes begin to bake.

you can feel your heart pick a pace at the thought of ethans words. he kissed you, he wanted to kiss you. what were you thinking letting him? no, you think to yourself. you didn’t have a choice…but it’s not like you absolutely hated the idea. shit.

what if you saw ethan in class? how the fuck should you act? you run your hands down your face, growing agitated and fidgety.

;;

“y/n!” mindy called from across campus. your carrying a box full of your cupcakes, as you take a heavy breath. it’s okay.

you wander over to her, smiling, only to falter when you see chad and ethan reach her side too.

you catch ethan’s gaze and freeze. ethan tilts his head, acting like an innocent shit. you gulp as you notice a ghost of a smirk on his face.

“mindy, can I talk to you for a moment?” if anyone’s gonna believe you about ethan, it’s mindy. she already thinks ghostface is him.

“uh, sure. is it real private?” she seems confused, since this group barely kept anything from each other. you clutch your cupcake box a little tighter, and that’s when chad notices.

“hey! are those cupcakes?”

you smile, offering them to him. “yo, thanks y/n.” he opens the box as you turn back to mindy.

“it’s girls sorta stuff.”

“oh.” she smiles, grabbing your elbow. “we’ll catch up with you later!” she calls back to ethan and chad, as she brings you farther away.

as you stop by a tree, you can't help but glance back at the two boys. chad is stuffing one of your cupcakes in his mouth. you hate the shiver that racks your spine, as you watch ethan take a bite, keeping his gaze on you. he tilts his head down in thanks, and you can spot the mischievous glint in his eyes. he knew they were bribe cupcakes for your point on him being the killer, to make it sound more appealing. but he only finishes the cupcake with a hum.

you whip your gaze to mindy, your expression desperate. “mindy, you know how you're always saying that ethan is ghostface?”

mindy scowls, glancing at him. “yeah, i swear it's him.” She narrows her eyes, before shifting her gaze back to you. “why—do you think the same?”

“i don't think, i know.” you stare at her earnestly. “i saw him. he attacked at my apartment. there was this other ghostface there, who tried to first, and then…” you weren’t going to mention that Ethan kissed you. it was irrelevant. “then he took off his mask.”

mindy is staring at you as your words spill out in a rush. “wait, you're saying ethan attacked you in your apartment, and then revealed himself?” she hisses.

“well, no, he didn’t attack me. he attacked the other ghostface—”

“wait, what?!”

you shush her, glancing around. ethan and chad weren’t there anymore and you were relieved.

mindy stares at you. “why would he attack the other ghostface?”

“i don’t know!” you exasperate.

mindy spins in surprise. “what the fuck?!”

you grab her arm. “but you believe me, right?”

“i believe ethan could be ghostface, but…attacking his fellow ghostie, and then what— revealing himself to you?” she sighs. “it's a little hard to make that make sense.”

“i know, i know. but i swear. that’s what happened.” you're growing desperate, especially as you see hesitance flash across mindy’s face.

“mindy, i wouldn’t make this up.”

she sighs. “but if ethan—as ghostface—went to your apartment not to hurt you, then why was he there?”

you pause. he couldn’t have just been there to…kiss you, right? that doesn’t make sense. you go to explain more about him attacking the other ghostface when you stay silent. ethan saved you from getting killed. would Mindy interpret that as you being on the same side. no. if you’d tell her that, then she’d know you weren’t one of them.

“y/n?”

you meet mindy’s gaze, as her eyes have grown wary. you shake your head. “i don't know why ethan was at my apartment dressed as ghostface. all I know is that he is one of them.”

“i– look i want to believe you, y/n. i like you! but it's just—” she cuts herself off, breathing. “you could be lying because your…ghostface.”

your shoulders slump. this is what you were scared might happen. “mindy, i swear.” you go to grab her arm, but she steps back.

“ethan is still on the top of my list, but…let me just think.” rhen she leaves.

shit. this was supposed to go so much better.

“you should have given her the cupcakes.”

you jump, and whip around to see ethan standing with an almost smug expression. you gulp, stepping to the side. “get out of my way.”

ethan just chuckles. “didn’t work?”

your silence makes him grin. “she already thinks i’m Ghostface, but like you, has no real evidence.”

“i–” you cut yourself off, because he’s right. you have nothing on him. and it turns out your word isn’t enough. “just leave me alone.”

“so cold.” he comments. “we’re in the same lesson.”

your whole body is tense. “come on.” ethan turns, heading to the large building of blackmore.

you both make it to the hallway, bustling with students heading to their respective classes. you stay a decent way behind ethan. you will not be seen with him. that would only contradict everything you said to mindy.

then just as you're about to squeeze past the students to get inside the lecture hall, a hand tightens around your wrist, yanking you to the right. you gasp as you get dragged into a small broom cupboard.

“ethan, what the fuck?” you spin to face him. he stands his back to the now shut door of the cupboard, trapping you in.

“i was kinda hoping you wouldn’t go and be a tattle tale.” he steps closer and you immediately step back, your hand out in warning. “but your cupcakes were very good, so, i guess that’s a plus.”

“ethan. let me out.” you were growing worried, the hairs on the back of your neck spiked.

“and i know i said i’ll leave you alone and all. but, wouldn’t it seem strange if we ignore each other.”

“if you wanna act normal in front of them—fine.” you were scared, and ethan could tell. “but there's no reason for us to see each other alone.” you gesture around the closet.

“that kinda hurts, y/n.” ethan says. “i mean i’m not too much of a fan of PDA, but if you're into that, I’ll settle.”

“what?”

ethan steps closer, and your grip finds a broom. “i like kissing you. and if you don't want to do it alone, then we can do it in front of our friends.”

you gulp, holding your pathetic excuse of a weapon out in front of you. “i’ll keep your secret, they don’t believe me anyway. so, please. there’s no need to kill me.”

“kill you? gave you listened to a word i've said?” wthan brushes his hand across the brustels of the broom. “i’d rather kiss you then, then kill you.” he steps closer. “and the broom’s cute.” he’s trying not to laugh.

“ethan, seriously.”

“i’m being dead serious, y/n.” he says, tapping down the broom as you shake his fingers off. then he backs away. “i’ll see you in class.” then he’s out of the closet, leaving you standing there, breathing hard and even more confused.

;;

you’re standing, talking to tara, as you wait for the rest of the group to be done with classes. mindy and chad come out first. slowly followed by ethan. you stay close to chad, as he tells you about this dick in his lesson.

ethan notices your “subtle” move to be “safe”. chad couldn’t protect you. and not from getting hurt, ethan’s already been clear that that's the last thing he wants to happen. just from him in general. he likes you. he thought it was obvious, but he guesses you're still reeling from him being ghostface.

you all talk and walk, until you’ve reached the carpenter sister’s apartment. ethan then digs in his pocket to retrieve a ring he stole from you in the closet. tara, Sam, and quinn are heading to their apartment.

“uh, y/n?” ethan calls to you, making you glance behind your shoulder. “i have something of yours.” he holds up the ring, as you hesitantly step closer, your hand out. you think you must have dropped it on your walk.

but ethan strides over, passing your hand and grabbing your chin. before you can say a word ethan is pressing his lips to yours, you stumble slightly back, along the gravel. chad is watching, mouth hanging open. “holy shit,” you catch tara say, as ethan pulls back, with a grin.

you're staring at him agape, as you hear a few hollers from chad. if only he knew. ethan then whispers in your ear. “i’ll call you.”

;;

you're staring at your phone in your apartment, scared for it to ring. and when it does, you hesitate grabbing it.

when you do, you take a reassessing breath. you had to end whatever this was. “hello, y/n.”

ethan’s using the ghostface modulator. prick. “ethan, you don’t have to use that. i know it's you.”

“and where’s the fun in that?” the deep voice breathes a chuckle.

“stop playing games, ethan. stop all of this. i’m not interested.”

“in me?” he inquired.

you hate the fact that you falter. you shouldn’t be fucking faltering! “yes.”

“you're a very unconvincing liar.” ghostface speaks mockingly.

“and you can’t take a hint.”

“tell me y/n,” ghostface speaks, as you pace your living room. “what's your favourite scary movie?” he jokes.

you scoff. “i said no more games ethan.”

“just one.” ghostface half begs. “i promise.”

“you gonna make me another deal?”

“i can.” ghostface shuffles on the other end. “if you play this game with me and win…i’ll reveal myself to our friends.”

you pause your pacing. “what?”

“doesn’t that sound fair?” ghostface probes.

you gulp. would he really? you wouldn’t look like a fool to mindy, and worse a betraying ghostface. you lick your lips. “what’s the game?”

“that’s my girl.” ghostface praises breathlessly. you stand a little straighter, ignoring the butterflies swarming your stomach.

“we’re going to play a simple simon says.” ghostface breathes through the phone.

“simon says?” you repeat.

“mhm.” ghostface hums.

you run your hand through your hair, gathering your thoughts, and a seeable decision. fuck it. all you had to win was simon says. easy. “deal.”

you can almost hear the grin forming on ghostface—ethan’s—face. “let’s get started, then.”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[aya-luri]

Am I the only one who doesn't associate Zekrom with Ingo and Reshiram with Emmet but do it the other way around? Well, perhaps this will become an unpopular opinion, but, if you stop to think about it there are quite a few points that can support this theory. Let's check them out! To begin with, it's the legendary dragon Zekrom the one who appears on the cover of the White version of the game, while Reshiram does the same on the Black version, which would indicate that they actually represent their opposite color. Such small detail is already important in itself, not just the basic color of the dragons per se. Also we all know that Zekrom's associated element is the electric type, like Emmet's Eeleektros, while Reshiram's is the fire type, like Ingo's Chandelure, both being the most representative pokemons of the Subway Bosses.

Although the issue of ideologies of each dragon is used to link them with each brother among the fandom, "ideals" being the one typically attributed to Ingo for his passionate way of encouraging trainers, while for Emmet it is the "truth" for his direct way of communicating, this could work much better the other way around. If we have learned anything from Ingo on Pokemon Legends Arceus, it is that this man is full of existential doubts that lead him to want to get closer to the player in order to know more about himself. That's it, the truth about his origins. But he already had some tendency to this type of behavior long before, as it was evident in the first Black & White games.

"Where is my destination? I've kept thinking, and I've learned one thing. That is, you cannot know what happens after winning without winning." Through such questions, Ingo seeks to reach a real conclusion, his own truths. And perhaps in our idealized image of him we forget that he can also be frank and direct, without the need to embellish words with lies.

"However, it is difficult to win unless you and your partner are in total sync." On the other hand, and as we have said before, the frankness with which Emmet expresses his opinions makes him look like an open-minded character, sincere, making this seem (for many people) to be his only notable characteristic, despite the fact that it's kinda obvious the way in which he greatly idealizes Pokémon battles.

"This time, I am really serious. Really serious. Because if a battle is not serious, it is not fun." He firmly believes that there is a way to go about Pokémon battles, and that way is by giving it your all in them, and in an ideal world, everyone would have fun battling just as he does, but this is not always the case. Emmet clearly expresses how he believes things should be, and he's also aware that his own victory may not only be due to his skill but also to circumstantial elements or, put another way, luck. So he also idealizes the player's own defeat when it occurs, having enough consideration to make it seem like something unfourtunate. Further proof that the fandom has been associating the wrong dragon with the wrong twin can be found in the legend of the twin heroes, where it was the oldest who pursued the truth, while the youngest pursued the concept of ideals.

This birth order also corresponds to Ingo and Emmet, Ingo being the eldest of the both and Emmet the youngest.

That's why despite being white, I think Reshiram suits to Ingo much better and the same for Emmet regarding the black dragon Zekrom. All of these points put together carry much more sense than simply thinking that each dragon's ideologies relates to a brother just by the main color of his outfit. Although this, in the end, does not have much relevance either, since canonically there is no relationship between these legendary Pokémon and the Subway bosses, other than the simple fact of playing with mere chromatic issues. Still, it's always fun to speculate, right?

[myboipotterimagines]

Golden - Weasley Twins x Reader (Soulmate AU)

Request: Would you do one where a shy Hufflepuff is Fred and George’s soulmate? Maybe they are connected somehow like a song or marks or something and it takes them a while to find her because she’s so reserved but they end up bumping into her and finding out?

It was common knowledge within the wizarding world that the age of twelve was the most common to find your soulmate. You weren't sure why twelve was the magic number, but you were never the type to question to origins of magic. What you were sure of that twelve passed by with no soulmate to speak of, then thirteen, and then fourteen. It was in your fourteenth year of life that you had given up the notion of having a soulmate altogether. Your parents had found each other even before going to Hogwarts and you had now been lapped by your younger sibling who had matched their first year.

Your parents marks glowed golden on their pinkies - a lifelong reminder of the most important pinkie promise they ever made. Your brother's soulmark was a simple streak on his shoulder from where he brushed against his soulmate waiting on the sorting ceremony.

Before you first touched your soulmate, the mark on your skin was just a dark patch. Muggles that fell in love with wizards or witches often just mistook the patch for a birthmark. The marks on your skin, however, could never be mistaken for anything but a soulmark. You had two marks that were completely separate from the other. The first was a line around your waist and the second a handprint from mouth to ear. The line on the waist could always be a hug from behind. It was easy enough to believe. But the hand print? You tried to keep the worst out of your mind.

It had been four years since you had given up on your soulmate. Exams were just around the corner and then you were out. You were quite tempted to just move into the muggle world and never have to deal with the concept of a soulmate again. You'd marry someone who, even though they weren't your soulmate, treated you well. And wouldn't that be enough in the end?

With that thought in your mind, you turned in your final examination to Professor Umbridge, who you were quite sure never even got a soulmark as it seemed impossible that anyone could love her. A huge wave of relief washed over you as you exited the Great Hall and, just for a moment, you allowed your eyes to close and a deep breath to escape your lungs. It was over.

Your moment was short lived as a chorus of "Get down!" rang out behind you, before a set of arms wrapped around you, yanking you to the ground. Your body slammed against the rough ground, but your head was caught before it hit by another set of hands. Still, your heart raced as you tried to catch your breath.

"Shit," one of the voices said - the one with his arms around you. He transitioned from holding onto you to rubbing your back. "We are so so sorry." "We let out fireworks. Thought the coast was clear but obviously we were wrong," the other voice said, hand still supporting your face. "Here, let us help you up," he offered. You had barely made it upright when the boy in front of you began to scowl. "Fuck, Umbridge," he seethed. "I'm sorry but we have to go."

Instead of leaving you, the boy pulled you along. The other tailing closely behind. "What are you doing?" you asked. "Unfortunately, you're an accomplice now and we're about to be caught." "Accomplice? I just met you!" "Yeah? Explain that to Umbridge over a hot cup of tea and a puddle of blood. You should be thanking me!"

It wasn't until you made what felt like four laps around the castle before you quit running. You didn't even know where you were and you had been attending Hogwarts for seven years. All you know was that you were in a tiny broom closet with two boys you just met. "Lumos," one of the boys spoke, and you finally got a good look at their faces. You rolled your eyes. You should have known it was the Weasley twins. You had never really met the two but the entire school knew of the mischief they caused. It had been far too easy for you to steer clear of them up to this point. "Fred," the twin on the left, George, asked quietly. Fred was looking down at his hand, then up to you. In the dim light you could barely notice the golden glow that now shone on his hand. "It's you," he spoke gently. "What do you mean?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Hesitantly, Fred reached his hand up to your face, placing it where it had been only moments ago. "You're golden," he smiled.

"My whole life I was wondering how I would get those marks," I laughed. "I always feared the worst, just because of where they are. Did you feel the same way?" He shook his head. "I always just assumed it would be a handshake." You rolled your eyes. "A handshake wouldn't give you this, though." You pulled up the other sleeve of his robes - nothing. No mark whatsoever adorned him. "That doesn't make any sense." When your eyes rose up to meet Fred's, he was looking beside you, at his twin, whose forearm revealed the missing piece of the puzzle. He, too, glowed gold.

***

Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

[signanothername]

Honestly that's so good.... But also it's likely Dream now feels a lot more alone as well, because he's, like, literally the last of his kind (since he's an energy being, not normal monster), and with all of his (well, not exactly but yk) biological family gone, it must feel really weird. To be the last survivor is always a weird feeling

Oh abso-fucking-lutely!

I wholeheartedly believe Dream would experience a lot of survivor guilt over it, and I mean, it’s so obvious Dream values family as a concept so much

Not to mention, I think we can all agree Nightmare can never die unless Dream kills him using positivity as a weapon, and the fact Dream’s the one who killed his own brother with his own hands?? Yeah a very traumatic experience

Dream had always felt lonely, yet he could still bear it a little, but now that his brother’s gone that loneliness just becomes crushing

But he still would heal, finally find his own way in life, it’ll be extremely hard with all those crushing feelings eating away at him, but the road to recovery never was a straight line, Dream would have ups and downs throughout his healing journey, but I still believe he’ll heal and grow enough around his grief to live a fulfilling life

That’s why I think Dream would want Nightmare’s possessions, it’s part of how he heals, he might’ve lost his brother, but he could at least keep Nightmare’s memory alive, even if Dream’s the only one who would truly and genuinely care about Nightmare enough to do so

I can even see Dream making a grave for Nightmare near the the tree, as a way of paying respects and showing his love for him, and he’d constantly visit and talk with his brother’s grave, fully hoping Nightmare is maybe listening, but knowing that Nightmare’s too far away to truly hear him

Anyway i’ve been holding out on saying this but Euthanasia by Will Wood is such an apple twins song guys ugh (there’s those two specific lyrics that I just associate with them so much, whether one is alive or dead doesn’t matter it just fits regardless 😭❤️🌷✨)

Part 1 (technically)

Part 2 (kinda)

Part 4

[sphireath-wisp]

#Lovebites

Sypnosis: "Legend has it that moles mark the spots where your soulmates loved kissing you at/kissed you the most in your past life." What do they think about it?

Warnings: Not proofread, a little suggestive at Belphie's, BEPHEGOR HIMSELF NEEDS A WARNING

Featuring: Mammon, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Simeon x GN! Reader

Mammon

"Hah? I'm yours today, so why does the past matter?"

Seriously, his human can be so strange sometimes, thinking about things like this! Usually, what goes through his head would be stuff like the next major sale, his next visit to the casino, his wallet... which are much better than theorizing about stuff like this!

He'd be lying if he said that he doesn't feel a teeny bit upset at the suggestion of another lover. Jealousy is a feeling that courses through his veins often and he wants you all to himself, no matter the lifetime, no matter the circumstance.

You're stuck with him and he's declared himself your 'forever soulmate'. Please search for him in your next life too, he'll wait centuries for you.

Beelzebub

"I wonder what good food I'd have eaten in my past lives..."

He's mostly neutral about the past life theory. It's an interesting concept, but he thinks with his stomach, so the constant pondering makes him hungry.

After getting a snack, or a buffet for Beel, he brings up the topic again. Surprisingly, he's intrigued by the idea that he might have lived a completely different life in the past.

"Do you think Belphie was still my twin in my past life?" "Are we still all together?" "...I hope I get to meet someone like you in my future life."

You couldn't promise him anything, but he's glad he at least gets to spend a human's lifetime with you.

Belphegor

"Past lovers? You're kidding, right?"

I just know, I just know, I just KNOW. He's so petty that he'd purposefully bite or cover the moles with lovebites. It's partially to quell his jealousy when you suggest the idea of a 'past lover', but it also serves as a good excuse for him to get a taste of you again.

If it's on somewhere like your face or foot, he's not one to make the effort to reach all the way there and do the work.

He prefers marking his territory somewhere easily seen like any mole on the base of your neck (or inner thighs if we're freaky like that), so any future lovers you have (as if you can escape from this clingy creature) will be reminded that you've already been made someone else's.

Simeon

"Hm? Is that so?"

He's one of the rare green flags we have left in the barren wasteland. He's one of the ones who, while not very aligned with the idea of past lives, would nevertheless like to believe that you have and always will be loved in every life.

It may not be him whispering sweet nothings into your ear or carding his fingers through your hair in every life, but he can only hope his love will reach you in every lifetime.

Taglist: -

[interstellarlyinlove]

Bed Sharing (May 18th)

word count: 471

@wolfstarmicrofic

“You know what annoys me?”

Remus huffs, tugging at the blanket that Sirius is hogging. “Sharing a tiny twin bed with someone who doesn’t understand that also means sharing the blanket?”

Sirius laughs, letting go. “Sorry, love. I didn’t realize. Are you comfortable?”

Remus smiles. He’s with Sirius, of course he’s comfortable. Still, he says, “No.” 

“Too bad,” Sirius says. “You’re stuck with me. All winter break.”

“Lucky me,” Remus says, and he’s giggly despite himself. He loves spending winter breaks with the Potters, and he loves spending them there even more now that he and Sirius figured their shit out. 

“Candles,” Sirius says, tugging at Remus’ hair. 

“Huh?” Remus asks because he mostly loses neurons when his hair gets played with. Sue him. But also he’s pretty sure candles have nothing to do with anything at the moment.

“What annoys me. Candles.”

“Sure,” Remys says. “Why not. Let’s hate candles. Who needs to see in the dark, anyway. Might as well be blind for–”

Sirius is laughing. “I don’t hate the concept of candles, necessarily–”

“What the fuck are you going on about, my darling?”

“I hate that they have candle memories. I don’t burn a candle right one time and it’s fucked up for life. Like, grow up.” 

Remus blinks. He’s so fucking in love. “It is kind of unkind to hate something for having a memory though, isn't it?”

Sirius smiles, and it’s blinding. Even more so in the barely lit Potter guest room. The only thing Sirius’ parents did right in their entire existence was naming Sirius after the brightest star in the sky. Remus would believe that the star was named after Sirius and not the other way around in a second. “That is a very prettily-worded question.”

“You are a very prettily-named person,” Remus says, kissing Sirius’ temple. “It also really isn’t hard to just let the candle burn correctly the first time so you don’t fuck it up for life.”

“It’s the principle of it, Remus.”

“Because you’re such a principle person.”

Sirius looks scandalized. “I could be!”

Remus laughs. “I’m joking, babe.”

“Ha ha, hilarious,” Sirius says, and Remus thinks Sirius wants to scowl but he’s smiling too much for it to work. “Are you tired?”

Remus shakes his head. “Not really.”

Sirius holds out his hand, palm up. “Come. I want to show you something.”

Remus hates apparating, and he’s in night clothes that are far too light to be anywhere but under blankets on a tiny bed in the middle of winter, but it’s Sirius, and Remus would follow him to the end of the world if he asked him to. So Remus takes his hand, and they apparate together to wherever Sirius wants to take them at 2 am on a Tuesday, and Remus wouldn’t have it any other way.  

[mikimakiboo]

Just like them

Nightmare angst !

Inspired by this post (the art in it precisely) by @signanothername, it's not the first time I see this concept and I wanted to do my own interpretation of it because, well, I love writing angst about Nightmare. So yeah it probably be quite different from how they described it in the post since I'm just taking the art (or the quote) as a source of inspiration :')

Finished writing it at 2:30am so it might be not that great

Tw: slight mention of bullying, little swearing

They were alone, their respective teams weren't there, they went out without them. Nightmare went out first, wanting to get some fresh air, and Dream, who felt the presence of his twin in another universe, decided to find him and stop whatever he was doing, fully believing that the only reason for his brother to go out was to cause chaos. He found him. He attacked first with an arrow, and Nightmare attacked back. It was an habit for Nightmare: being chased by Dream, fighting with him, throwing in some insults, he had done that countless times. It wasn't new. What was new however was Dream's anger. Dream was never angry.

A lot of things happen during fights. Physical attacks flow but it is also the place for verbal attacks, some being just as sharp as physical one, as the battle field is the only place for the two guardians, the two brothers, to talk.

Why was he angry ? Nightmare didn't know exactly, surely he was mad that recently Nightmare's team had been doing a good job in producing negativity, surely he was mad that his brother disturbed the peace so much. At least that was what he was yelling at him.

- Why can't we have balance ?! Why must it be that you always want more ?!

Nightmare smiled.

- Because I NEED more ! I don't care about your balance, I want more negativity and I WILL get more !

He was so hungry all the time, his corruption was powerful, he needed to feed it constantly, so obviously he needed more negativity and a balance wouldn't satisfy him, but Dream couldn't understand that. Nightmare already told him the reason, but he didn't listen, in Dream's opinion Nightmare simply needed to eat something else, to eat more real food, that was what he was doing, and it worked just fine. But Dream's magic wasn't as powerful as Nightmare's.

- That's just a selfish reason ! Causing harm to innocent people for you own benefit ! Want me to tell you who you make me think of when you act like that ?!

Nightmare tilted his head with curiosity.

- Please do tell me.

- The villagers !

Nightmare tensed.

- You're just like them if not worse ! Because at least they weren't doing it to everyone like YOU do !

Dream panted, he didn't like saying that, he knew the villagers hurt his brother back then, but being hurt wasn't a reason to hurt others, right ?

They looked at each other. Nightmare didn't answer. He usually always had something to say, but he stayed silent this time. Dream could have sworn the air became colder.

Without adding anything, Nightmare teleported, returning to the castle, in his room. Dream... didn't say what he thought he heard him say. He couldn't. That wouldn't make sense. Why would he compare him to.. to them when he knew what they have done ? Not only to his brother, but to himself as well ? Dream was also hurt by those villagers, he knew how horrible they were, surely he didn't want to say that...

A tentacle flew, smashing the nightstand. Nightmare's fist were shaking. How dared he say that ?! How dared he compare him with those piece of shit ?!

Another tentacle flew like the first one, throwing the bookshelf across the room, the books scattering all over the floor.

Someone knocked on the door.

- Boss ? You okay in there ?

Killer. Nightmare didn't want to see anyone at the moment. He took a deep breath, trying to sound as calm as possible.

- I'm fine. Leave.

There was a moment of silence before he heard the answer.

- If you say so... We're here if you change your mind tho, and, you know, wanna talk or somethin'...

- I said leave !

He yelled, his voice starting to shake as he felt his cheeks getting hotter with the frustration. He stayed still for a moment, just the time to hear Killer's footsteps getting farther until he finally left. He let out a loud grunt, kicking the trashcan. His brother had no right to call him that ! Who did he think he was ?! He was his brother, not his mother !

His mother... what would she even think about him ? He crossed the now messy bedroom, going to the window to look at the moon. What would she think about him ? Would she also think he was like the villagers ? Would she think he was worse ? Would she look at him with pity, knowing how much he suffered, and that his actions were commanded by fear, by a desire to survive ? He was six, he just wanted to live... Would she recognize that... ? Maybe she wouldn't care at all, she never cared about them before, why would she care now...

Nightmare felt a tear rolling on his face as his soul clenched in his chest. His cheeks burned for a moment before he let out a sob. He turned away from the window, sitting on his bed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was pathetic. He was the king of negativity, he was so strong, he wasn't supposed to be affected by anything, let alone words ! But these words struck harder than any arrow... He looked up, blinked, breathed through his mouth, trying not to cry, not to make any noise, as if being silent would make a difference, but the tears didn't stop and another sob went out of his opened mouth. He fell on his back, sniffling as he shut his eye, wiping his tears away, making room for new ones to appear.

He didn't want to be like the villagers, he really didn't. He despised them so much for what they did, for all the pain they put him through. Five hundreds years have passed and he still had nightmares about those dark days, they wouldn't leave him alone, not even after he made sure they were all dead. And now his own brother, the only one who knew about everything, thought he was worse than them ? Was he really that bad ? Everything he did he did it to survive, was it really a selfish reason ? Should he have died instead of holding on his small will to live ? Should he have let them kill him ? Did Dream want them to kill him ? Was it why he was constantly attacking him when he went out ? Did Dream want him dead so much that he was now trying to finish the job ? Did Dream hate him that much... ? He knew he was far from being a good brother, but wasn't Dream happy with him before the incident... ? Or was it an act... ?

He rolled on his side, stretching his arm to grab a pillow and shove his face against it, muffling his sobs in the soft surface, his whole chest burnt so much...

When he finally stopped crying a few minutes later and sat up he thought an eternity had passed, but the moon hadn't move in the sky. He got up, sniffled, wiped his cheek, and teleported again.

He appeared in a void, in front of a bean bag on which he let himself fall.

- Hey...

- Hey.

A glitchy skeleton answered, sitting on a second bean bag next to the first one, crocheting and visibly unbothered by his surprise visitor.

They sat in silence for a while before Error looked up at Nightmare, looking at him above his red glasses.

- You look like you're about to kill yourself.

Nightmare shifted on the bag, looking at the fake ceiling. He talked in a whisper.

- Do you think I'm just like them... ?

- Like who ?

Error asked.

- The villagers... Dream said I was like them...

Error knew about the bullying, Nightmare told him some time ago. He put his crochet down.

- And you believe him ? This asshole insults you and you listen to him ?

Nightmare looked down.

- He.. he wouldn't be wrong to think that...

Error held up a hand.

- No. I don't want to hear any of that. You are nothing like those douche bags.

He began, Nightmare looking up at him, looking so tired.

- I mean look at you, look at your boys, look at what you've done for them, to give them a second chance, a place and a reason to live, you saved them. If you were like the villagers you would have never done that. Dream doesn't know shit about you.

- I... I guess...

- Now if he wants to think you are like the villagers because it's easier for him to blame you than to actually understand you, then good for him ! But you're worth more than that and you know that what he says is not true. So stop letting it get to you like that, 'kay ?

- Okay...

Nightmare weakly smiled, looking at the ceiling again. He heard Error take back his crochet.

- Good.

He stayed here with the destroyer, not wanting to go back to his room yet. He would have to apologize to Killer when he came back, he didn't mean to yell at him when he was just worried. The villagers never apologized, even when he held them in front of him, chocking them with a tentacle, they didn't apologize. Maybe Error wasn't wrong. Dream didn't know him as him and his boys knew him, he only saw the surface, maybe he was just looking for someone to blame, and Nightmare was the only one left... he wasn't like the villagers, he knew it, Error knew it, his boys knew it, wasn't that all that truly mattered ? That the ones he cared about knew he was better than that ? Surely it did. It was all that should matter, Dream's opinion shouldn't matter, he shouldn't listen to him, he didn't know anything.

Maybe he was a monster in Dream's eyes, but he wasn't one for his family, and that was all he cared about.

- end -