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#a willing puppet through the mirror au
sleepy-bunbun-ace · 2 years
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i come back to the submas tag again to talk about emmet aus (i'll make a masterpost soon)
this time i want to put my own spin on the "emmet is suspected and accused of ingo's murder when ingo goes missing".
emmet has to run away from unova as a whole. everyone (even his own friends and family) accuse him of killing ingo. he knew he wasn't as popular or well liked as ingo, but not to this extent. he flees in the middle of the night, only updating his depot agents on where he is. they're the only ones who know the truth and defend their boss' name at all costs.
he travels across the world, evading the authorities and leagues of each region he visits. the only things he has left to his name are his and ingo's teams, his new xtrans, and a few clothes. well, that is until he arrives in sinnoh.
you see, giratina still feels guilty of what happened in hisui so when emmet appears in turnback cave, it has a deal ready. become its conduit and keep it company in the distortion world, and emmet will be able to walk freely throughout the distortion world to escape the outside world and maybe find ingo in the process.
emmet accepts the deal.
cut to a year later when a stranger dressed in strange clothing arrives in hisui. they look so much like warden ingo. if it weren't for the strange clothing, always present smile or red eyes, they would've been identical to him!
they're about to leave to go off exploring again when said warden hesitantly calls out their name.
"emmet...?"
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AU where the rage of seeing his brother with That Witch triggers his curse and Philip has a horrifying transformation that he can’t control. He does still very much try to kill Caleb but Caleb assumes it’s the curse and he and his wife and some townsfolk manage to subdue him.
Since Philip can’t figure out how to turn back yet and being a ten foot swamp monster does make it hard to carry out his wicked plans, he lets himself be soothed. Caleb explains that it’s alright, he’ll find a cure, and they’ll stay with his wife’s family in the meantime. Internally Philip is seething but he figures it’s best to play nice. He doesn’t have many other options.
It takes him decades to figure out how to temporarily reverse his transformation and in that time he gets 5 satanic nieces and nephews who are very fond of using him as a jungle gym. Caleb is constantly fussing and the Clawthornes, though wary at first, have accepted him as a sort of Family Beast. (Caleb didn’t mention the eating palismen thing.) “Yes, that’s our Philip! He’s a bit odd. Made out of grime and muck, can only communicate through deafening roars or by scratching words on the ground. Bit angry but I’d be too under the circumstances.”
The elixir he gets off of a traveling salesman works! But only for a day. And, he realizes rapidly, he can build up a tolerance to it. He needs to ration his use.
The first thing he does is go looking for the Collector, who he did his own research on while trapped with the Clawthornes (nephews are surprisingly useful for turning book pages). Caleb is distraught when he disappears, of course, he runs himself ragged looking for him. But Philip pops back up eventually (plus one mirror tucked in his mud flesh and a plan to kill all witchkind) and the Clawthornes just kind of accept that Philip disappears now.
Since he can’t overuse his new cure he instead sticks close to the Clawthornes, relying on their trust for him as cover while he enacts his plans more subtly. He gets money by murdering people on the road and then uses that to bribe agents. It takes some effort to hold a pen in his larger form but anonymous screeds and books about the purity of magic are almost as convincing as a preacher, especially when accompanied by attacks on border towns by a strange, indescribable monster. There’s a surplus of wild palisman around the Clawthornes, no one notices when a few go missing, everyone assumes that they found new people or new places to live. And when he really needs to make a scene he chugs a potion and goes to spread his message in person.
‘Belos’ is the name of a rabble rouser who won’t show his face, who keeps spreading unsettling stories about the Titan and magic itself. Philip is just a large, unfortunate, slightly sticky guy with eyes everywhere and deer horns. He’s good at lifting heavy things and has a seemingly infinite patience for small children and he sometimes goes into the woods to nap or chase rabbits or something.
Eventually Caleb dies (80, in bed, surrounded by children; it’s more than he deserves, the traitor) but Philip still stays with the Clawthornes. They make a very nice cover story and he does need one as pushback to Belos reaches its peak. Even when his message starts to win the war, when there are more adherents to his makeshift religion than nonbelievers, when his puppet monarch (he used Caleb’s bones, which he had such easy access to, to make a grimwalker and claimed the child was Titan sent) is actually crowned, he stays. The elixir really doesn’t work that often. He needs to save it.
He is, he’ll admit, passingly fond of some of the little mongrels his brother produced. Lilith, for example, is clearly willing to do what it takes to accomplish her goals. Edalyn, on the other hand, spells trouble. He can see it in her strongwilled glare, the way the Collector balks at the curse hanging over her, in that smile so like Caleb’s. Because she’s a very real threat to his rule (and because he could be closer to the castle, his latest grimwalker is getting rebellious and might need replacing) he accompanies her when she runs away from home. Cursed Clawthornes have to stick together, right?
He’s astounded when she stumbles on the portal—the actual portal! He’d thought Caleb destroyed it, guilty that they couldn’t go home. Instead it’s here and it’s whole and he steps through it with her, this little witch with his brother’s blood…
And then they go back. He’s not fit for the human realm, not yet. When all the witches are dead, when he’s cured, then he’ll let himself enjoy air that doesn’t smell like rot.
In the meantime he lives in the Owl House and waits.
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none-i5 · 2 months
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Can you make a fic about FuriLumi marriage Au?
It's their wedding day. Furina as bridegroom and Lumine as a bride.
Neuvillette as the priest 🤣🤣 maybe
oh my GODDD your vision...I'm quaking in my boots...
Anyways thanks for your patience!! This kinda took me some time lmao, but I hope you like it!! :DD
_____
Furina finds out that she's not one to care about tradition, actually.
Not to say that she loathes it. There's something comforting about traditional rites, about a mark for memories and celebration. But in all honesty, Furina can't care less about the specific tradition for her wedding day. She's willing to tie the knot under any name, under any way just to show that I choose her. Not because of any unseen fate pulling their puppet strings, but only because Furina chooses Lumine, and Lumine chooses her, and she can't be any happier than this.
She won't ever say that out loud. But it is a nice thought.
In the meantime, Furina smooths a hand over her front and takes one last glance in the mirror.
She made sure to clean up nicely, going for a 3-piece suit for this occasion. Maybe choosing the exact shade of blue for her vest that complements her eyes is too tacky. Even her suit jacket's lapels are a similar color to the darker of her two eyes. But then again, that's just a careful fashion choice, isn't it? Still, maybe the blue tie matching her vest this time just blends in too much, or maybe it's just plain overkill. Then again, shouldn't she be dressing for the best?
Just as she's supposed to walk away, Furina frowns and runs her fingers through her hair. If she's really dressing for the best, shouldn't she make the effort to tame that one stubborn strand of her hair? Once she decides, she reaches for a comb and--
A knock on her door makes her jump.
"Miss Furina?" Clorinde's muffled voice comes through the door. "Are you alright? You're going to be late."
What does she mean? She glances at the clock, remembering that it's still an hour until the--actually, scratch that, there's only 15 minutes left now. 15 minutes! How did time go by so fast? She crosses the room in quick strides before pulling the door open.
Clorinde seems to finally pried her uniform off her skin for once, opting for a flowy, solid purple dress that ends slightly below her knees. Simple, but still practical in terms of movement. Of course. "Well?" She quirks and eyebrow. "Are you worrying about your outfit again?"
She gulps. "W-well, it's only natural for me to want to dress for the--"
"Miss Furina, you and Navia have planned for that outfit from weeks before," she informs dryly. "This was after extensive discussion as well. You look just fine, I'm sure. Now, come."
Clorinde probably doesn't understand, then. She doesn't need to look "just fine" today. Still, Furina's also running out of time, and while there is a thing called being fashionably late, she's sure neither Lumine nor Neuvillette would appreciate it.
Once they're both down the hall, Furina hesitates when they pass by the door to the room where Lumine's getting ready too. The people in there aren't exactly being quiet though, with several rounds of laughter and squealing. She's tempted to knock and see what's up (and possibly get a glimpse at her fiancée) but decides against it. Clorinde's already rushing her along, and...well. Furina admits she'd like to take that first peek down the aisle.
She's sure that the view will be spectacular.
Now, Furina is lounging at the entrance to the aisle and fiddling with her tie when her Salon Solitaire shows up. She beams at them. "Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin!" She kneels down to look at them properly. "How are the rings, Surintendante?"
She salutes by blowing a few bubbles.
Furina giggles. "Good. I trust them in your care. What about the guests, Gentilhomme?"
He replies by bobbing side to side.
"All seated and accounted for, then. I assume Mademoiselle Crabaletta is in her station as well? Okay." She slowly takes a deep breath in, then out. "Alright. Thank you so much, all of you. We'll have the best tea party soon, okay?"
Both of them show their enthusiasm--Chevalmarin by blowing more bubbles and Usher by bobbing up and down--when the guests' murmuring quiets down as soft music starts to play.
Furina straightens up and smooths out the invisible creases on her suit. "Showtime," she whispers, and her Salon Solitaire dutifully go off to their places. She fiddles with her tie one last time before going out to the aisle.
The whole crowd's attention turns to her.
It takes all of her hundreds of years of experience in acting to not trip over her feet while she stoically walks to the altar where Neuvillette is waiting on the altar. The number of guests are small--a deliberate choice for both her and Lumine's sake--and over half of them are Melusines anyways (Neuvillette's choice, and no one wanted to argue against it). Still, she can't help how her heart hammers in her chest.
Maybe she's more nervous now that she has no script to swear to. She no longer has to act. And with that thought comes with a new feeling, somehow going hand-in-hand with her nervousness--excitement.
When she steps on the altar, Neuvillette leans over slightly to her and murmurs, "You look nervous, Miss Furina."
She lets out a soft laugh under her breath. "Am I that obvious now?"
"Don't worry," he continues more quickly now that the best man--Crabaletta, that is--is walking out. "you're doing very well."
She nods stiffly and turns her attention back to the aisle.
After the best man, groomsmen and bridesmaids are the flower girls, who soon take their seats on their spot as the clapping quiets down. But it immediately ratchets up again when the ring bearer, Surintendate Chevalmarin, gently floats down the aisle. Furina can't help smiling in pride. When Chevalmarin takes her spot too though, Furina squares her shoulders in preparation for what comes next.
The bride.
She doesn't fight how her hand reaches up to fiddle with her tie one last time. Is her suit wrinkled in some places? Is her hair tangled? Or maybe her make-up was underdone. Or overdone. Maybe her shoes are scuffed. Oh Archons wept, what is Lumine even wearing? Celestia above, if she--
Her thoughts shut up when Lumine walks down the aisle.
Even the roar of the guests' clapping feels faraway as Furina's gaze zeroes onto her. Lumine's holding a bouquet of Romaritime flowers, rainbow roses, and a few lakelight lilies. Those two flowers are still pinned on her hair, but this time accompanied with a few smaller white flowers. Her presence fills the room and shushes the guests in awe in a way that Furina's never seen for any actor in the Opera Epiclese.
She focuses on the smaller, less important details first because--god. Which one does she start raving about? The golden dress that reaches down to her ankles leaving the best spot to pepper kisses (a.k.a her shoulders and toned arms) bare? The way the simple but artfully applied make-up accentuates those eyes that she's spent hours looking at? The way her dress, how the light practically flows around her as she walks down the aisle? The--
Furina's face heats up and she snaps her jaw shut (when did it hang open anyways?). She whips her head to the Maid of Honor standing on one side and mouths, Oh my god.
Of course Navia has to cackle quietly at Furina's face doing a cosplay of a fire hydrant, but she does give an encouraging thumbs up at least.
When Lumine finally steps on the altar, Furina finally cracks and covers her burning face with a hand while bowing her head slightly, which prompts a few whoops and laughs from the guests. Then there's a soft chuckle and a warm hand that rests on her elbow, which finally makes Furina look up.
"Hi," Lumine says warmly, shyly.
Neuvillette clears his throat, making the guests go quiet, and they both reluctantly pull away. "On behalf of Miss Furina and Miss Lumine," he says. "I think would like to thank you all for attending today. For today is a very special day--the day when they shall be united in matrimony."
It still sounds so difficult to believe, but the way Lumine clasps their hands together while they both stand on the altar and face the guests' applause feels so real that Furina, admittedly, can't help but practically vibrate with glee.
While they're listening to some readings, that's when Lumine leans closer and whispers, "What's with your look earlier anyways?"
Furina also leans closer to hear her and totally not because then her head would rest on Lumine's shoulder in that position and goes, "What?"
"Like, while I was walking down the aisle," she says. "What's with that?"
She hums and the current speaker's voice slowly fades out to white noise while she's tethered in this exact moment right now. It's warm and comfy and real. It's home. "I don't know," she says before she gets too caught up in her thoughts. "You just look so..."
Then she pauses there, considering her words carefully. Hot and kissable are definitely contenders, considering how she was borderline going to set the record of being the first to combust at the sight of her woman. Ethereal and breathtaking are there too, since she had to make sure she wasn't dreaming or at the afterlife. She's not sure what to say, in the end. How can any one word describe how utterly head over heels she is for her?
"...beautiful," she settles on. Basic, factual, but Furina hopes her point gets across anyways. "You look beautiful, Lumine."
There's a noise that catches on her throat, like Lumine was surprised to hear that, before she lets out a chuckle tinged with nervousness. "Well, thank you," she says. "I had to make sure I wasn't going to trip on my dress or anything. You're so handsome, it's kinda distracting, y'know?"
She pauses. There are certain things in Furina's life that feels like a need, and that includes generally not being an insult to anyone who has eyes. So when someone compliments her for her looks--usually pretty or beautiful or the ocassional 'awe-inspiring beauty'--it comes more off as an acknowledgement of her bare minimum or just empty flattery. But then Lumine says that while looking at her like that and...
Yeah. Maybe sometimes Furina feels handsome.
They both jump when Neuvillette clears his throat behind them, and Furina realizes with a start that the readings are already done. "May I address the bride and groom?" he asks, and they dutifully comply by facing him again.
Neuvillette makes eye contact with them both.
"Today, you both stand before me to be united in matrimony, but I say none but you can create your union," he says. "It is your words, your actions, and your intentions that will define the course of your relationship. So, I call upon you now to state your pledges to one another, not to bind, but to guide you through the crests and valleys of your relationship."
Then he slightly steps back, nodding slightly to them.
Oh, she thinks. It's the vows already. She's noticed that her perception of time is getting wonkier these days. Then, she tenses. Not because she's regretting this decision, but it's more similar to that prick of fear before she's going to recite her lines on stage. Besides, did she even memorize her vows right? Or what if she stumbles over her words--or her feet--while she says them? But most importantly,
Who goes first?
Thankfully, Lumine answers this question for her when she rubs the back of her neck and softly says, "It's starting now, right? Can I go first?"
Furina nods because there's nothing else she can say.
"Right," she mutters before taking out a piece of paper (apparently, the dress has pockets). "Dear Furina," she starts before letting out a nervous chuckle. "I promise to stick with you through everything. Even in sickness or in health, even in poorness or in wealth, and even when you accidentally steal my sweets sometimes."
That pulls a polite laugh from the guests. Furina affectionately rolls her eyes, but doesn't fight the smile on her face.
"I promise this to you," she continues. "my best friend, my confidant, and my travel buddy. I'm so glad we're getting married now, and I'm glad I get to spend thousands more of afternoons napping with you in the future." Then she meets Furina's eyes, smiling. "For the rest of our lives, I love you."
Of course Lumine of all people would say something so simply and stupidly affectionate. Furina giggles while she wipes the corners of her eyes.
Neuvillette coughs into his fist. "Miss Furina?"
She nods. "Lumine," she starts. "you know me better than anyone else in the world right now, and yet you still love me. I used to think about how lucky I am that you didn't run for the hills yet, but now, I just...feel glad." She lets out a nervous giggle. "We chose each other all those years ago, remember? But now, I want to choose to be by your side as long as you'll have me." She pauses to take a breath. "Love is...they say it lasts forever, and I'm glad I get to spend it with you."
Lumine lets out a watery chuckle. But also, maybe...Furina lied a bit about the 'feeling lucky' part. She really is lucky right now, to be loved by Lumine just as as Furina loves her.
Chevalmarin comes up and hands them the rings, in which they take turns to slip the ring on each other's finger. Furina really couldn't care less about what the ring looks like...okay maybe she does a little bit considering how much thought they both put into it, but the sentiment remains the same.
Neuvillette nods once the ring exchange is done. "With the power bestowed upon me by the State of Fontaine, I now pronounce you as wife and wife," he says. "You may now kiss the--"
And Lumine cups her cheek before leaning forward and pressing their lips together, and really all Furina can think while her brain melts at her wife's warmth is, I did it. She married her lover, and is practically living her best life at this point.
Needless to say, it's one of the best days of Furina's life.
_____
Here's the fic on Ao3 if you wanna see it there as well! :D
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waltwhitmansbeard · 1 year
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go on, claim my heart: chapter two
see my masterpost for what came before this. inspired by @romeoandjulietyouwish's medieval au.
Vax can hear her crying. He is sinking into an abyss, his body heavy and clumsy, but through the echoing void he can hear his wife's sobs, and he knows something is wrong. He has to get up, has to get to her, to his daughter, but his body is a marionette, and the strings have been cut, and he is falling.
Please, he calls out, with some internal voice that makes no sound. Please, help me help them. There is only one entity he believes to be listening, only one hope for clawing his way out. He prays to the Raven Queen, begs her for the power over his body again.
Then, as if the string controlling his puppet arm has been yanked from above, his hand lifts up to clap onto his own face. He wills himself to be better, and within a few moments, a spreading cold emanates across his face like frost on a window, and suddenly, he is back to himself, the haze cleared and the void gone. He opens his eyes, very much awake, and throws himself out of bed. In a flash, he is in the doorway to Vilya's bedroom, where his wife is collapsed on the floor at the foot of their daughter's cradle, her body wracked with sobs. Derrig is there, half-bent down to her, and he looks back at Vax with an expression of such anguish that it nearly takes his breath away.
He doesn't need to ask. He doesn't need to look in the cradle to know what he won't find there. He stands, frozen, heart pounding in his ears, as Derrig strides toward him. "We'll find her," he promises, before pushing past him to exit the cottage. A few seconds later, he hears the piercing shriek of Derrig's whistle, a tool used to warn the castle of danger.
Vax stumbles into the room and falls to his knees beside Keyleth, who, he can tell, even in the depths of her despair, is just as foggy and clumsy as he was mere moments ago. He takes her face, red and soaked with tears, into his hands and lets that same cold frost radiate from his palms. Her eyes close, then reopen a few seconds later, clear of the fog.
They stare at each other, neither one breathing, as the horror sinks in through their skin, their muscles, their bones. Vax can't think, can't find any words to say to her. He just holds her face, looks into her eyes, and lets his heart break.
.
Percy is just finishing lacing up his boots when the sound of a whistle on the wind makes his stomach drop. There is no question about which direction it came from, and for one heartbeat, he exchanges a panicked look with Vex, who stands in front of the mirror across their shared chambers, braiding her hair for the day. The next moment, he is at a dead sprint, barreling through the halls and down the staircases of the castle, Vex only seconds behind. They burst outside to join the tide of Royal Guard crashing across the southern lawns toward Keyleth and Vax's cottage.
When Percy arrives, red-faced and breathless, the first thing he sees is the bodies of two guards, on the ground right at their posts a few yards from either side of the house. Some guards who had beaten him there are already tending to them, so he keeps going, tumbling through the front door and searching with wild eyes.
Vax and Keyleth sit on the sofa, his arm around her shoulders in such a way that Percy can tell it's the only thing keeping her upright. Derrig stands just off to the side, one hand on his weapon, barking instructions at another guard who had arrived early. "I want eyes on the sovereign immediately, and we must inform the Cap—" He stops when he sees Percy, with Vex rushing in just behind. "Captain, there you are."
Vex ignores him, pushing past Percy to fly to her brother's side. "Vax?" She looks at the despondency, the emptiness on their faces, then up to the open door to the nursery, and back again. She lifts a trembling hand to her mouth and stumbles backward into the wall.
Percy can feel it rising in him, the panic, the bile, the heat, but he is trained in many things, including the suppression of such base reactions, and he keeps a deadly calm in his voice when he asks, "Is she dead?"
Keyleth makes an absolutely wretched noise, and Derrig answers, "She is missing."
The relief is staggering. "How did this happen?"
Derrig motions for the guard he was speaking with to leave, and then he explains, "I arrived this morning to find the guards outside dead. I came in to see the princess and the Champion unconscious and poisoned."
"Poisoned?" Vex exclaims. "How can you be sure?"
Vax wordlessly lifts up a wine glass, which appears to be filled with some kind of black sludge. It is unfamiliar to Percy, but recognition flares in Vex's eyes. "I haven't seen that in years."
"It's a very deadly toxin," Derrig explains. "Colorless, odorless, tasteless, and incredibly fatal in small doses, which is useful, because once it is exposed to air, it turns into that—" He points to the sludge. "—rather quickly. They drank only a tiny amount, which is why they were merely rendered incapacitated, rather than killed outright."
"But that was the intent?" Vex demands. "To kill my brother and the princess?"
"We cannot assume intent," Percy says. "We can ask those responsible when we find Vilya and when Pike is available to pry the answers from their corpses." He spins around and storms back outside and up to one of the dead guards. Those gathered around part for the Master of Development, who drops to a crouch beside the corpse. He is by no means a man of medicine, but he inspects the body all the same, looking for any signs of the manner of death. The guard's weapon isn't even drawn, suggesting the attack, whatever it was, came suddenly, too quickly to provoke a reaction. There is little bruising or other marks to indicate physical violence, but as he gently twists the guard's head to one side, he sees something that makes his blood turn to ice. His heartbeat is deafening in his ears as he stands, his vision beginning to swim, though he can't blink to clear it. He stumbles away, rushing over to the other dead guard. He finds the same thing on that poor man, and Percy's hastily thrown up mental walls are rapidly crumbling around him.
In a daze, he makes his way back toward the cottage, barely aware of where his feet take him. He can hear it still, even all the years later, the screams, the sound of metal on bone, the cruel laughter, high-pitched and cold. It is through these echoes that he can just barely make out Derrig saying to Vex, "We must find the culprits quickly, to increase our chances of finding Vilya before she is taken too far from Zephrah."
"I know who they are." Percy's voice sounds hollow to his own ears, and he feels all eyes in the cottage spin to him.
He imagines his face must paint quite the picture, because Vex approaches him as one might a wild creature. "Percy? What are you saying?"
"I know who took Vilya." He meets her confused eyes, and he breathes a single word: "Briarwoods."
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tanjirou-no-au · 1 year
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An Outstretched Hand
“Do you ever think, that if things were different, we could’ve been friends?”
“...I think we would have traded places.”
Part 3 of my BNHA Rewrite AU, the various parallels betwixt Deku and Shigaraki:
First off, this is a Granddad For One AU (Through Hisashi), so we have the mirror of AFO’s grandson as a Holder, and the grandson of a Holder as AFO’s chosen successor.
Both quirkless, both eventually given a Shigaraki brother’s Quirk.
Both their storylines involve grappling with a name they were given after their fifth birthday (Deku & Tomura Shigaraki).
Izuku ends up having Deku redefined for him, and embraces it. Tomura realizes the name is a chain, and instead embraces the name ‘Tenko Shimura’ during the Stars and Stripes Arc.
Izuku has the fortune of having less strings attached. Hisashi isn’t really a factor (I think he’s more a fun but ultimately distant avuncular figure), and AFO’s bent on revenge.
Both grow up seeing some of the worst of society, but due to their upbringings, Izuku ultimately sees the better parts, while Tomura focuses on the negative. 
Both honestly aren’t happy with the current system, but while Izuku has hope to change things for the better, Tomura just wants to burn it all down.
Both are shrewd planners and tacticians with a tendency towards anger if they fail, but where Izuku tends towards self-flagellation, Tomura lashes out.
Both anti-social quirk analyst extraordinaires.
Haunted by ghosts (Vestiges and the Shimura family).
During their talk in the shopping mall, Tomura realizes Izuku is ‘Player 2′ and in the talk influenced by the excellent A different course by Aliandris, decides to see whether people are fundamentally good or selfish.
Ultimately, their story arcs hinge on stepping out of their predecessor’s shadow, working with others vs self-reliance, and their self identity.
Tomura breaks away from AFO, taking his goal as his own but conquering AfO’s attempts to make him a puppet, but ultimately loses the LoV in the pursuit of that goal.
Deku has to learn to trust again after being failed by society, as well as the sense of sole responsibility that ends up building throughout the story. He needs to embrace his friends, work with the Vestiges, realize there will be those willing to catch him when he falls.
Following the War, in what I call “The Thousand Enemies” Arc, Izuku and Tomura have a chat on the resoiled beach Izuku and Toshi cleaned up, where Tomura points out their similarities and asks if he wants to join them to become ‘Twin Kings of the Underworld’
Izuku roars defiance, asking Tomura is he’s satisfied by his victory, while reaffirming his own desire to rebuild things for the better ( ‘This beach was cleaned once, and can be done again) while internally realizing that he can’t do it alone after a piercing question from Tomura.
Ends the conversation by embracing OFA as ‘our power’ and sending Tomura into the stratosphere and into the Stars and Stripe Arc, before being ambushed by the USJ Nomu, who’s spent the Arc equipped with a homing Quirk and hounding Izuku’s every move, thus explaining his reluctance to accept help.
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favoniuscodex · 3 years
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scaramouche + body swap soulmate au
prompt: soulmate au where when the reader turns twenty, she swaps bodies with her soulmate. rather than returning to their original bodies at the end of the day, the two soulmates can only return to their original bodies upon sharing a kiss.
pairing: scaramouche x fem!reader
rating: sfw
warnings: foul language, scaramouche’s existence, no beta reader (oops)
word count: 1.5k
a/n: this was the most requested au for me to write for, but i’m posting this one separately because i a) got carried away writing it and b) altered the prompt a bit. hopefully it still remains good enough that the anon who requested it is happy with the results! i love writing for scaramouche, although my interpretation of him will likely end up being super ooc. this is a part of my 50 follower celebration! i apologize to anyone who expected me to write scaramouche in a respectful way
when scaramouche first awakes, he realizes he had finally swapped bodies with his soulmate.
how utterly inconvenient. he thinks. despite the change in body, scaramouche is filled yet again with the rage that fuels him normally.
god has let him live another day and he plans to make it everyone’s problem.
but, before he can wear his rbf again and plan his holy re-conquest of the inazuman throne while doing whatever it is harbingers do, he needs to figure out where he is and get out of this body.
this means he has to find you. great. another incompentent buffoon i have to rely on. he thinks, followed by a steady stream of internalized expletives as he curses the world for placing him within your body.
he stands up and notices a shift in his typical perception of the world. you’re taller than him. he serves the goddess of love and the world made his soulmate taller than him. for a brief moment, scaramouche considers atheism.
as if this godawful, horrid situation couldn’t get any worse for poor, innocent scaramouche, a glance to his side reveals a shield, a sword, and, worst of all, a knights-of-favonious-insignia emblazoned uniform.
scaramouche then decides to rifle through your belongings. he’s not actively trying to invade your privacy, he’s just trying to find where you hide your vision. the world is cruel for tying him to a “perfidious, repugnant excuse of a government puppet”, but certainly isn’t cruel enough to tie him to a visionless plebeian? right?! right!??!?!?!
after nearly an hour of searching and the near destruction of any storage container that may exist in your house, scaramouche is bent over on his knees on your floor, slamming his fist against the creaking floorboards. no, he’s not crying! harbingers don’t cry! don’t look at him! he just spilt some seawater on his eyes! it doesn’t matter that the ocean isn’t nearby!
a knock on your front door disrupts scaramouche’s pity party and he shoots up, furiously wiping at his face to remove the “definitely-not-tear”stains.
“hold on!” scaramouche calls, surprised at the feminine voice that exits his body. he hadn’t even analyzed what you looked like yet. he had had more important things to do.
no, scaramouche isn’t struggling to put your undergarments on! he doesn’t struggle to do anything! he’s a harbinger!
after an unknown, embarrassingly long amount of time elapses, scaramouche manages to swing open the door, now dressed in your typical uniform, sword in his hand and at the ready.
“woah there, sweetheart. didn’t think our relationship had soured that quickly,” the blue-haired man at the door hums, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face.
SWEETHEART?! scaramouche screeches internally. you might be a visionless, uncultured peasant that is a part of one of the worst governments in teyvat, but you’re his visionless, uncultured peasant. scaramouche will be damned before he lets this flamboyant pirate steal you away from what fate decided belonged to scaramouche and scaramouche alone.
“call me your sweetheart again and i’ll rip that filthy eyepatch off your face and shove it up your-” scaramouche hisses, causing kaeya to interrupt him with a laugh.
a laugh? the man who looks like he just got out of a tea party with a three-year-old girl is laughing at me? ME?! scaramouche briefly considers capital murder. mondstadt is known for freedom after all. they could possibly turn the other cheek at this blue-haired menace getting murdered.
“happy twentieth birthday,” the man speaks, his revealed eye sparkling with mirth. “your name is (y/n) and i’m kaeya.”
“i didn’t ask for your name,” scaramouche responds, causing kaeya to let out another laugh.
normally, scaramouche would plead to anyone that he is simply a commoner from inazuma and needs a horse to go rescue his lover, now trapped within his body, and return her to mondstadt. however, his immediate hatred for kaeya had taken abrupt control of his body and eliminated any conniving strategy he may have had in order to steal mondstadtian resources to return home.
“well, kaeya,” scaramouche begins, mustering the most vitriol he can accrue from your voice into his words. “i need a horse if i plan to rescue my damsel in distress.”
kaeya raises an eyebrow, intrigued by scaramouche’s words. “i wouldn’t call her much of a damsel.”
“compared to me, everyone is a damsel. unfortunately, i am contractually obligated by fate to give a shit about this one,” scaramouche responds blankly, causing kaeya to stifle another laugh. “what poor gentleman do i need to seduce in order to obtain a horse with the minimal funding i found inside of this woman’s house?”
kaeya smiles. “i’m the knights of favonius calvary captain so… me. but don’t worry, babe, you already have my heart.”
scaramouche might not be able to commit capital murder without consequence, but he does receive joy from being able to ram his knee into kaeya’s family jewels and watch him double over in pain.
------
scaramouche’s journey to sneznhaya is a long and arduous one, but he much prefers the company of the horse rather than the company of kaeya and friends, whom scaramouche was introduced to at the knights of favonius headquarters.
(however, if scaramouche is being honest, he enjoyed the company of jean. she was dutiful and strong-willed. scaramouche would die before admitting he was impartial towards the acting grand master.)
his journey to find you comes to a halt before he enters the sneznhayan border, however. from a distance, he spots 2 (two? scaramouche queries) horses galloping in the distance and a familiar silhouette on each horse.
scaramouche recognizes his body upon one of the horses first. he doesn’t spend all that time admiring himself in the mirror for nothing!
however, he only pays attention to the person on the horse next to you until he sees their arm raise up, eagerly waving in scaramouche’s direction. a pit of dread settles in scaramouche’s stomach. of everyone in sneznhaya, you accompanied yourself with- ?
“HEY!” the person accompanying you yells, his russet-colored hair ruffling in the breeze. “SCARAMOUCHE!”
before scaramouche can turn the horse around and go resign to his fate of being stuck in your body in mondstadt in order to avoid interaction with him, the two of your horses approach scaramouche’s, coming to a halt a few feet in front of him.
scaramouche looks you, in his own body, up and down and lets out a noise of discontent as he hops off the horse and approaches you.
“you’re not wearing the hat,” scaramouche complains in an even voice, staring you down. much to his surprise, you stare right back at him, taking on the subtle challenge scaramouche has proposed to you through posture.
“i don’t desire to,” you respond, folding your arms. “if we’re going off appearances, you’re wearing that shirt backwards.”
scaramouche’s provoking staredown with you is disrupted as he glances downwards, off put by your statement.
“i don’t really care about correctly wearing the uniform of an establishment that is ultimately useless to the wellbeing of society,” scaramouche retorts.
“you’re literally a harbinger, don’t give me that sh-” you begin, but the third wheel of the conversation interrupts the two of you.
“what?” both you and scaramouche say in indignation towards the man who had the audacity to interrupt the two of you.
“jeez,” the man says, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “that’s no way to thank me for helping you find him.”
“i literally told you i could find my own way back,” you say. “but fine, thank you, tartagle.”
the man, tartaglia, opens his mouth to correct you, but freezes upon hearing scaramouche laugh at your statement.
“you’re no longer needed, you can leave,” scaramouche states to childe, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in disbelief. tartaglia glances in your direction for assistance, but you silently shrug in response, gesturing with your head for him to leave as well.
as childe leaves, you turn your head back to scaramouche and smile. for once, scaramouche’s insistent anger is quelled, the roaring waters of the ocean within his heart settling into a calm stream. maybe, despite your overall uselessness to society, you wouldn’t be the worst soulmate ever. scaramouche tells himself, trying to ignore the increased pace of his heartbeat.
“ready to switch back?” you ask, moving closer to him, causing his gaze to flicker down to your lips. oh, right. scaramouche reminds himself. he parts his mouth to respond but, for once in his life, doesn’t know how to form the words. so, he closes his mouth, swallows down his anxiety, and nods before moving closer to you as well.
his hand bumps into yours as the two of you reach up to cup the other’s face as you lean into your first kiss. he barely has time to register the light giggle of amusement that escapes your lips as the two of your consciousnesses begin to return to their respective bodies upon your lips slotting against the other’s.
maybe, just maybe, you were made for me. scaramouche thinks.
once back in his body, he doesn’t dare utter his thoughts aloud. instead, he reserves that thought for when he gets down on one knee.
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theanonymouswriterb · 3 years
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Dusk til’ Dawn
Prologue: The Queen saved the King
Paring: Kim Taehyung x Reader
Mafia Au Series
Warning: SMUT, literally porn on paper 😗, lots of fluff, violence, gang, bratty!reader, dom!tae, daddy!tae, daddy kink, babygirl kink, punishment, bigdick!tae, rough sex, make up sex, lots of after care, pregnancy kink, oral!sex, deep throating and everything in between🤧
Warning in this chapter: just blood, wounds and guns, well a gun
Word Count: 5.1k
Summary:
Kim Taehyung, Now a feared and well known crimes boss but not was he always the man that he is today, searching for the women that saved him on the day that changed his life forever. Willing to sacrifice everything to find the women that could tame him.
One day after 5 years she shows up in his night club, will he be able to hold himself back from taking her and claiming her as his queen or will he do what he do everything in his power to make her his?
A/N: Hi, this is the first chapter that I’m releasing and it’s basically the prologue of how they met, hope you guys like it, if you want to be tagged please tell me and don’t forget to leave some feedback. Also I might be releasing chapter 1 tonight or early tmr, I just need to read though it for mistakes. Much love 💕😗 -B
~
Next chapter
Five Years Ago
The sound of police sirens roams the city, as darkness and fog rain down on Seoul city. Helicopters roaring the skies and the bad guy trying to hide. Kim Taehyung, A man being tracked down by polices and rival gangs from a exchange gone wrong, blood spewing from his stomach and bruises on his face as he runs through the alley. The only thing in his mind right now is to survive the night and make it make it back home alive, or at least die trying.
He keeps running and running for his life as he hears footsteps behind him like the devil is chasing me to take away his life and drag him to hell but he isn’t ready to die yet! Not just yet. He still has a lot more things to accomplish and until he does that not even the devil himself can drag him to hell.
The cut in his stomach is deep and the pain his unbearable but he has to keep it up and there’s no stopping cause if he’s stops he’ll get caught like a mouse in a trap. But he is no mouse, no fucking mouse at all. He’s a fucking mighty lion, no a fucking Dragon that’s roaring and will get his revenge on the people that played him, the ones he thought were family and sold him out. He will kill who ever gets in his way but he’ll just have to survive the deadly night as it calls out to him .
The pain keeps worsening and worsening but he doesn’t know what to do but clutch onto the stomach and hope for the best. A dragon doesn’t die easily, it’s gonna take more than a pack of Hyenas to take down this mighty Dragon.
But the Dragon wasn’t always like this, he had a family, that until he was left in front of an adoption center with no note no fucking idea of where he came from or who his parent were, he spent all his life trying to find out what happened that night that someone decided to leave him, was he not worth the love that a baby deserved? Was he that worthless that his parents gave him up for adoption? Was he not enough. These sentences rang through his mad all his life up til now, the day he’s praying to what every god is listening to him to not let him die, he will keep fight on and on until he’s on top of the food chain.
Kim Taehyung grew up to do bad things, very bad bad things, join gangs at a very young age, was made into the leaders puppet and rose up slowly to be the right hand man of the Cobra gang.
The cobra gang was well known gang of youths in their 20s doing wilds shits like shootouts with the police and drug dealing and selling girls, the reason Kim Taehyung joined the gang at such a young age was to survive, he didn’t like the idea of selling people, doing drugs or anything as such but he had to survive, in a world full of
Cobras and Hyenas he had to survive. He mad a living out of this and he rose to be the right hand man of the Cobras but oh man, that didn’t didn’t go down well.
Did it!?
The thing that burns him was that he was never a Cobra, never was and never will be.
A few miles away at Seoul estate town houses ~
Walking into her house Y/N sighed, “can this day get any worse” she flopped down in the sofa and looked at her phone, hoping for a call from a certain someone, but what was she hoping for?
She got up from the sofa and strutted up to her master bedroom. From the ceiling hung a huge diamond chandelier, to the side floor to ceiling widows, fine famous artwork hung on the walls and in the middle room, her queen sized bed made for the queen herself. Her room was every girls dream, a large space with with many expensive things, a humongous walk in wardrobe filled with designer clothings, shoes, purses and more. Y/N could get anything she wanted, whether it’s cars, houses, clothes, she could get anything she wanted, but she was no brat. Well maybe sometimes.
Walking into the closet, she took her suit attire off, she was promoted to the creative designer of Givenchy and got everything she wanted on her way up the ladder but the pressure on her shoulders were too real. She looked at the mirror in mirror in front of her and saw her figure, she was a beautiful girl no doubt about that, she was fine as hell, the only thing that could fault her was her mind, the mind that thinks she could be a failure to her family.
After changing into a white tank top and joggers she walked back out into her bedroom and down towards the living room that Intertwined with the kitchen.
Y/n turned the kettle as she walked from the kitchen to the living room, she sat down on her sofa and smiled as she turned in the tv “ finally, I get to sit the fuck down” she groaned. As she scrolls through Netflix a call comes through a phone. She looked at her phone screen and smiled at the name of no one else but her best friend E, short for EziKia, a girl she has known since she was a baby, their fathers grew up together and were very close with each other and that’s how they greet up to know each other. “Hey bitch” her best friend spoke “ how was work?!” She continued. As Y\N looked at the TV she replied “girl it was a disaster, you know how I get when I have to present my work”. “I know” her best friend laughed “But I’m sure you did fine and I’m sure they loved every bit of your design for the new collection” her best friend smirked as she spoke, “I’m already proud of you, I’m fucking excited for the new collection to drop”
Y/n’s a young girl, she always grew up with her parents love and affection but couldn’t find her place in the world, alright she had everything she wanted from her parents, finding love within her self was hard. Yes she has confidence, yes she’s amazingly breathtaking and beautiful, she doesn’t need anyone to tell her then cause she knows that and she knows she bad and she can get everything she wants in this world. She knows she worth all that. But why is it so hard for her to find love, not with any man but within herself, it is almost as if she hides behind this facade of confidence. Her insecurity’s ushers to come out of her but she builds this facade to hide it front he world. And the one thing she is most scared of is losing her family if she doesn’t make them proud. She feels as if it’s hard to love herself and make everyone else proud of her.
Y/N groaned as we moved on the sofa and said “I hope so, enough about me and my day, how was yours?” Ester sighed “ my day was amazing until I got home and got into an argument with my Khai” Y/N rolled her eyes and asked “what was the argument about this time?!” “ He dreamt that I cheated on him and he got mad at me!” Y/N couldn’t hold I get laughter and laughed out loud “ what the hell, now that is too funny”
“ well now he’s still mad at me for no reason and I won’t be the first person to apologize cause it wasn’t me fault to begin with”. EziKia replied
“Well it was your fault” Y/N began “ you cheated on him” “In his dream”they both said at the same time.
Ezikia and her boyfriend Khai have been dating for a while now and they’re hopelessly in love but they argue about the summery things in the world, which is why Y/N think they’re a perfect match cause they’re literally dumb and dumber.
The kettle hissed and Y/N spoke “ what’re you up to now anyways” as she Stirred her tea waiting for ester to reply. “ nothing if I’m honestly just playing games at the moment” she laughed out,”what about you”. “ just made some tea and about to watch haunted on Netflix” Y/N replied and she sat down on the sofa and pressed play.
A moment of silence filled the room.
“Have you spoken to J yet?” The voice of her friend E rang through the phone
“Who?” she replied
Sighing out in frustration her friend spoke “ You know who Y/N, you can’t stay mad it him forever he’s also your friend”
“I’m not mad at him E” she hushed out looking at her phone.
J short for Jungkook was Y/N other friend, they were very close, they loved each other but they both didn’t have the guts to tell each other that, it could fuck up the friendship but it was only friendship right?, they would always fight and instantly make up but this was different, they weren’t speaking but it’s not like it’s her fault....right? J was always a nice guy, treating her the best, they would always flirt with each other but it wasn’t anything serious, it was always just games but when she saw him kissing another person, her heart felt like it exploded and she felt like she had been betrayed and betrayal was too real to bear.
But how could this be a betrayal if they aren’t in love? That’s what they both keep telling themselves right?
He’s not her responsibility and she doesn’t love him like that, but she keeps lying to herself and he betrayed her and so she can’t let it go. Not just yet, she just needs to stay mad at him just a little longer.
The rain began to fall as she spoke to her friend, they laughed and continued speaking, hours has passed and the clock struck midnight and they said their goodnight and they both hung up. As she continued watching the tv, the rain outside came worse, Turning into a thunder storm. The wind whistled outside and lighting struck and she could hear the Thunder roaring. She began to shiver at the should and the flashes outside her windows “ why the fuck am I sacred of thunder” she whispered to herself as she continued to watch the series, it still came as a shock to her at how she was some what scared of the sound of thunder and lighting but she’s able to sit through and watch a full series of horror stories by herself at night.
Hours and hours had passed as she watched the series and she felt her eyes beginning to fall close and she then drifts of to sleep on her cloud like sofa and feels like dreams.
She dreams about her future, what it would be like if she followed what her parents told her to become, maybe then she would think she wasn’t such a Failure to her family.
Although her parents were always supportive, Y/N felt that she wasn’t enough, she saw the look on their face of disapproval when she said she wanted to become a fashion designer, it was like she disappointed her parents saying what she said and wanting to become a designer instead of a doctor. But her parents were always proud of what a women she had become and loves her deeply. However she felt that just In case her fashion career doesn’t workout, she learnt a few tricks from her older sister who was obviously a doctor about how to deal with someone is had been wounded.
The man still on the run 10 minutes away~
Kim Taehyung on the other hand was also having the worst fucking day of his entire life! How could this get any worse, first the drug and money exchange gone wrong with the rival gang, obviously he was set up to fail by you know who and now he’s not just running from the gang who are out to kill him for more money and truce between the gangs as Kim Taehyung’s boss thought he was out to take his place on the Cobras throne.
Now with the police are after him too, since he was like the “ right hand man to the king “cobra” he knew a lot about him and the police where out to shut all the bullshit down but Taehyung had his loyalty, but how loyal can a ‘dog’ be if he’s been abandoned but he never snitches. Running from the gangs, Taehyung has a run in with the police and they saw him at his venerable place, bruised up and cut deep, so they decided to take him out to show the “king cobra” what they could do with his “people”.
But obviously that was fucking useless cause they used him and played him hard.
And Taehyung was no longer a cobra at this moment of betrayal, Kim Taehyung knew where his loyalty lies and that was with himself, he will get his revenge on everyone that played him, the cobra, the police & his family.
He continued running as his life depended on it, but he never looked back to see if he was being followed he kept his eyes straight forward and went on. The rain kept pouring on him as he ran and ran and ran like there was no end to the road, he suddenly slowed down as he crouched down in pain and held his stomach, “fuuuck” he groaned. He wasn’t going to let today be the day that he died, he had a lot to live for if he wanted his revenge. He got up again clinging to stomach and continued walking. As he approached a few blocks of town houses, he had to get out of the rain and get some help of else he might die, he walked up the stairs to bang in the door but there was no response. He then continued to the next few houses but there was still no response. He groaned in frustration as there was no one to help him. He then saw a light at the end of the block of houses and walks towards the light, walked up the stairs and banged on the door as if trying to break down the door.
He continued banging on the door as if it was his last resort which it was, he whispered out all his might but the only thing that came out was a soft breath “please help” he never thought he would have to resort to begging but here he was outside a strangers door, hair and clothes drenched from the storm asking for help not knowing if the person inside would be kind enough to help a poor stranger in need.
As if he gave up, he leaned against the door and shut his eyes closed, but then he heard foot steps coming from the other side other door and the locks clicked and the door Swung open. He looked up slowly from down at the strangers feet to the face and he saw the stranger in front of him, “wow she’s beautiful” he thought to himself,
“Thank you” he sighed out of relief as his vision became blurry and everything went black.
At Y/N House ~
Y/N woke up from her sleep hearing banging on the front of her door, she lifted herself up from her sofa that was way to comfortable to leave the room and groaned out “ who the fuck is banging on my door at the hour”.
As she got up she realised that she fell asleep on the sofa and left the lamp on.
She looked at her clock and it was almost 3 am, she then whispered “ why do I always either get waken up or wake up at around 3am” as if she was scared and her suspicions came creeping in the back of her mind. And she thought ghost always wonder around at 3 AM. She then was pulled from her thoughts by the loud bang at the door again and she slowly made her way to the front of the house and she saw a figure standing outside, she thought to herself thinking she shouldn’t open up the door to strangers at this hour, as she slowly turned to leave she suddenly hears a cry of help “please help” the stranger whispered silently.
As she heard the cry of help, she thought to herself “ I should probably help this person” “ but what if the pardon is a Pedophile or someone really dangerous” as if her demon and angel thoughts were fighting each other she huffed out a breath and walk towards the door turned the lock opened the door. There stood a tall man twice her size, built like a Greek GOD, dressed in a suit that was drenched from the rain droplets of water falling from his fringe a hand holding onto his stomach that was bleeding, bruises on his face and the other hand holding onto the doorframe. The man then looked from down at her feet, then his eyes lifted up to her face, she then saw him smile for a second then his eyes suddenly shut closed and he fell forwards towards her.
Her eyes grew wide was she was trying to hold her balance and trying to hold a man twice her size that just fainted at her door step. Not knowing what to do as the man’s head laid on her shoulder, she then whispered “ fuck it” then leaned sideways and the man dropped to the floor. Sighing she looked down at the stranger that passed out on her, who she then dropped to the door, frustration and guilt overpowering her mind and she closed her eyes and thought for a moment.
She then crouched down, grabbed him from under his armpits and dragged him a little further into the house and closed the door. She then began to slowly drag him through her house to the living room, “ damn he’s fucking heaving” she choked out. After a though 20 minutes grafting him through her house, She then was able to lay him on her couch that she adored very much and said “ well maybe that wasn’t the best idea” as her white couch began to turn red form blood stain that fell form the stranger. Then her eyes turned to the gun that sat perfecting in the holster wrapped around the mans body. “Shit”. Her face was stoned cold from shock, asking herself why this man had a gun on him and why he was bleeding and she palmed then slapped her forehead, sighing out loud in frustration and anger at herself for helping this possibly dangerous handsome man.
She looked at him and for a few seconds fought with her self, asking herself if she should still help this stranger for all she knows he could be really dangerous. She shook off her thought and went into her bathroom to the her first AID kit to help this poor, passed out man on her couch. She ran back into the living room, crouched down lifted his shirt to tend to his wounds and bruises.
As she opened up his shirt she saw how beautiful he was built, the tone muscles that covered him and the tattoos that bloomed on his chest. She also noticed that he had many scars in his body, the ones where it shows be fought for his life.
As time passes, she stared at the beautiful but bruised up stranger and couldn’t help but feel bad for him, she thought of many things that he must have gone trough and couldn’t help but wonder who this man is.
Time deciding to go really fast~
The clocked struck 7:30 am and very loud pound bang came though the house from the door at the front. Y/N opened her eyes slowly and saw the stranger lying into of her, she hadn’t know that she fell asleep looking at the stranger and she drifted into her thoughts. Then the loud bang pulled her from her thought and she hurried to her feet and went to the door. The door opens and she saw a group on men in uniform. The mother-fucking police. “ Hi miss, sorry to disturb you this fine morning, We just wanted to ask you a few questions if that is ok” she nods her head and the police proceeded to ask the questions. “ Did a man came knocking on you door last night?” She hesitated for a moment and shook her head no and the made some notes in their notebooks and proceeded to ask another. “ Did you see or hear anything suspicious last night” she shook her head again said “ no officer” and the officer furrowed their eyebrows and said “Miss your are not lying to us are you?” she then replied “ no “ and they ushered “ Miss you need to tell us if you saw anything cause this man is a very dangerous man and he killed a lot of people and we need your help” The silence loomed around them but Y/N didn’t say a word. Although she just heard of how dangerous this man was, she helped him and already lied and there was no going back.
She could be arrested for helping a criminal and lying about it. The shock on her face was clear but she payed it off well and shook her head in disagreement and said “no officer, i didn’t see anything or any man of any sort” and smiled softly hoping to get them off her back.
The police stared at her as if they knew she was lying carried on saying,
“ Then miss what is this blood stain that is here on your door step?” She was surprised as she didn’t realize there would be blood at her door step even though a bleeding man was just at her foot steps a few hours ago. She then huffed out trying to sound as smooth as possible, then lied “ You see officer, last night I came home late From my boyfriend house and I forgot my underwear at his house, you know what happened there” she winked “ I came on my period and bled on the floor and I forgot to clean it up” she then thought “what the fuck was I thinking lying to the police like that, this is embarrassing” They’re not gonna believe that are they?
As she opened her mouth to speak again she stopped her herself as she saw the flustered faces on the officers, they then said “ oh, sorry miss, s-sorry to bother you and thank you for your help” then then bowed and turned and walked back to their car.
Y/n shocked at her own words hurriedly shut the door and leaned against it and spoke” fuck that was embarrassing”. As she turned she was greeted with a shirtless man with patched of wounds that SHE patched up holding a gun towards her head. Her eyes then widened in shock but not fear, “ so this is how your gonna treat your saviour?!” She spoke, the silent that came after could Pierce through someone like a knife, he then softly growled in a low husky voice “ thank you “ and lowered his gun. “You’re welcome “ she said as she rolled her eyes, bumped his shoulders and walked past him back towards the kitchen.
He then turned to follow the small girl that helped him last night. As they entered the kitchen he spoke lowly “ so YOU were the one that was bleeding in front of your own door” he asked, she then said with confidence “YES, the reason I said that was to save your ass and I don’t even know you” she turned to look at him and met his ice cold gaze, if looks could kill she would be dead right now. “ that’s right, you don’t know me” he hushed out “ so why would you help me” he raised his gun again. “ Will you stop raising your gun at me” she shouted, he then touched his stomach in pain. She then asked with worry in her voice “ are you ok”.. nothing, there was silence as she watched him crouch in pain. “Yea....I’m fine for now” he whispered, y/n furrowed her eyes brows and looked at him with sympathy and said “ do you want some pain killers?” He nodded and she turned on her feet to search trough her drawers for pain killers and sprung back into the kitchen to give home the medicine. She watched as he gulped down the pain killer with a glass of water and smiled, relieved that she was able to help him. She then broke the silence, “ since I don’t know you, want to tell me who you are?”
“No” he bluntly said he got up to pick his shirt up from the side of the sofa and put it on. “Also, who gave you permission to take my clothes off” he said glaring at her. She then scoffed “ dude, you seriously need to get you anger and manners in check, I helped you and this is how your repaying me!” His gaze soften at her words but then he frowned again saying “you don’t have to tell me every minute that you saved me”
Y/n couldn’t believe what the hell was going on, this man she just saved from DEATH itself never mind the police, DEATH! was treating her like this. But maybe he was right she thought, maybe she didn’t have to shove it in his face every minute that she saved him, “sorry” she said Turning from him as he was finally dressed in his bloodied clothes.
As she walked away, he slowly turned his head and leave into the kitchen, he thought to himself that he should be great full that this beautifully kind stranger helped him when no one else would. He then followed her into the kitchen and watch her make food for them. He watched as she busied herself in the kitchen with her task and a smile crept of his face. There was literally and angel right in front of him but he couldn’t give her the satisfaction of that and so his smile disappeared as she turn to look at him.
They then stared at each other for a few minutes and as if time slowed down he couldn’t believe his eyes, it was like love at first sight, he couldn’t believe he was falling in love with this stranger at their first meet but it couldn’t be love could it? He’s just great full for her helping him...isn’t he?
“What are you staring at” she broke the silence
“Obviously not you” he replied harshly
He has to be rude and he can’t fall in love with her not now and not ever, because of who he is, if he falls in love with her she could be a target to the gangs and it’s not like she’s in love with him anyway, she’s probably so scared for him and wouldn’t want anything to do with him after he leaves. He thought and sighed.
Y/n watched him as he lowered his gaze and thought to her self what this stager has gotten himself into that he’s running from the police, he’s such a beautiful and muscular man with tattoos that covered his body and instantly she almost fell in love. ALMOST. She was just glad she was able to help him and continued looking at him in pity.
A few moments had passed and she continued making the breakfast and he gazed up at her and watch her work.
She could literally be the light of his world but his world is to damn dangerous.
A few minutes later she had made breakfast, she turned and shoved the plate towards him “ Eat . You’ll need the energy” “thanks” he whispered and they both ate in silence. “I’m Taehyung” she looked up towards him as he broke the silence “I’m Y/N” “nice to meet you” he countered and then said softly “thank you for saving my life Y/N”.
Then awkward silence filled the room.
She shyly looked up from her plate and broke the silence again saying “ Why were the police looking for you?”
“ That’s none of your business” he said harshly and glared at her with his Piercing eyes
“Well it’s now my business since I helped you, why the were the police chasing you?” She shouted back
“ I don’t give a fuck that you helped me, I can literally kill you right now” laughing as he spoke out.
“ You really have a rude temper you know that?” She glared
Gazing back at her slowly, he opened his mouth to speak.
“I know” he spoke softly as if she just tamed him.
He watched as she got back to eating, and he watched the way she ate her food and how her lips moved as she continued speaking..as if he couldn’t like her more than he already does, everything she does changes him and makes him weaker than he currently is.
She was a girl full of sassiness and confidence but was also very kind and warm hearted and he couldn’t help but fall hard.
Was it wrong?
He got up as her gaze came up to meet his face,
He then leaned in over the small table and pecked her lips with his.
SMACK!
Out of shock her hand landed in his beautiful bruised face and he groaned out in pain “fuck, I deserved that” as he leaned back in his chair.
“ yes you deserved that!” She shouted back and he rose from his seat, rounded the table and approached her, grabbed her face and kissed her hard on the lips , flames rose up Y/N face and she shoved him backwards and slapped him hard again “ the fuck is wrong with you” she screamed. Taehyung held his face and smirked saying “ thank you for saving me princess”, he turned, put on his blazer then left, Y/N still shocked from what just happen lifted her hands to her lips and touched her lips softly with her fingers as she heard the door closed.
That was the first and last time last time they both saw each other.
The King just met his queen.
Tags: @sugarplummies
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Note
Could you maybe post a long-ass list of good ironstrange fics because at this point, there's nothing else to do and you seem like you have great taste
puppets on a string
Summary: Stephen Strange is a villain. But a hot one.
Words: 103,206 (incomplete)
This fic is courtesy of our very own @funkylittlebidiot​, so definitely give it a read!
Find a Way (to break the fall)
Summary: Stephen didn't think about it anymore. It had been buried deep beneath all the other shit he'd had to live through in the last couple of years and it didn't impact his day to day life in any way whatsoever. Until the day it does.
Words: 2,170
This one is short, but emotional and impactful. Warning for discussions of past rape/non-con.
The Brands We Carry
Summary: Tony Stark is almost thirteen years old when he gets ready to settle down to bed one early-early-morning and happens to look in the mirror on his childhood wall and catches sight of a circular brand on the skin above his heart.
“About fucking time,” Tony mutters, and goes to sleep without bothering to tell anybody he just cussed out a baby that’s only just crying its way into its new life somewhere on the planet.
The date is February 17, 1983. Happy birthday, whoever you are. Took you long enough.
Or: Tony Stark and Stephen Strange are soulmates. You'd think that would mean they would be perfect for each other right from the start, but it turns out that their soulbond is a long path of mutual distrust, dislike, and miscommunication. Just their luck.
Words: 10,497
I love a good soulmate au, and this is a good soulmate au. Very interesting look at both characters and also what happens if someone’s soulmate has  a not insignificant age gap (though they only meet in person for the first time as adults)
A Crown of Thorn and Shadows
Summary: Anthony Stark, King of Blood and Darkness, ruler of the Unseelie court, did not expect to find Prince Stephen Strange of the Seelie chained up in his torture chamber, cold iron being driven into his hands. Stephen Strange, a Seelie healer, never dreamed of finding himself in the court of nightmares, being cared for by the king that the Seelie called a monster. They must work together to find the traitors in two Faerie courts that have not spoken in over six hundred years and reclaim Stephen's memories before the courts descend into war once more.
Words: 58,465
Wonderful fantasy au, great worldbuilding and relationship buildup. Lots of fun.
Villain Stephen Strange and His Obsession with Tony Stark
Summary: Just a bunch of prompty oneshots that are partially based but 100% inspired by Tumblr IronStrange Posts. Rated T-M
Words: 1,029
Do I even have to explain it? This is just fun. 
Ten times outta nine, I’m a hand grenade
Summary: Though neither remembered that night, it turns out that Tony Stark and Stephen Strange had first encountered each other years earlier. Unfortunately, that might end up destroying the universe.
Words: 419,141
This is a loooooooooong boi. But oh, it’s a good one. Stephen and Tony basically go back in time, change the universe, and fall in love. It’s everything you could want from them. Complete with romance, angst, drama, and humor.
Where Severus Snape is hot, not a stalker, and somehow gets the girl
Summary: And then, as if he wasn’t already the most embarrassing estranged biological dad ever, Tony stopped in his tracks, raised his sunglasses (because of course he would wear sunglasses inside a lecture hall in April), and gave Professor Strange the most blatant, sustained once-over in the history of fuckboyness.
Then he put down his glasses, shot a winning smile at the teacher, and said, “Well, I’m Tony Stark, of course.”Or: Peter Parker is sick and wants to cut his Neuroscience class. Tony just wants to help (and maybe date his son's hot teacher). Stephen Strange just wants to give his lecture in peace.
Words: 2,387
Stephen is a college professor. Peter is his student. Tony is having too much fun with this.
You Remind Me of a Man
Summary: Tony Stark cannot stand the overly opinionated and egotistical Dr. Strange and the feeling is extremely mutual.
Words: 44,788
Perfect no-powers au for them. They’re assholes who fall in love and see another side to each other. It’s amazing, 10/10 would recommend.
I am here
Summary: There’s a technical reason Stephen must surrender the Time Stone to save Tony’s life. It has to be done, and that’s enough for him to do it. But just in case, the universe decides to give him a personal reason as well.
Words: 11,708
This one is so soft. Basically, while looking through time, Stephen keeps showing up in the past at various points throughout Tony’s life. And then they fall in love! Good for them.
T For Tony
Summary: Your soul mark is the first letter of your soulmate's name. Stephen has an 'A'. But he's in love with Tony. Cue anxiety, jealousy, angst.
Words: 2,794
They’re so stupid in this fic. It’s great. It took them so much effort to remember Anthony starts with an A. (I still think this fic should’ve been titled A For Tony, but I didn’t write it, so)
something taken, something new
Summary: The ChronicConnection implement and app allows a person that lives with chronic or illness-induced pain to transfer their burden temporarily to a willing loved one. Tony and Stephen sign up as beta testers.
Words: 14,541.
I must’ve recced this a thousand times ..... AND I’LL DO IT AGAIN. THIS FIC IS THE PERFECT MIXTURE OF SOFT AND ANGST AND IF YOU DON’T READ IT, YOU’RE WRONG.
15 Million
Summary: For every alternate reality there were ten thousand alternate realities from that. And from those ten thousand more. And then ten thousand more off each of those. And so it goes.
The Avengers win once. There’s ten thousand versions of it. 
Stephen Strange doesn’t know what to make of the fact that Tony Stark seems to be *his* victory.
Words: 2,755
Obligatory “Stephen looks through 15 million possible futures and falls in love with Tony in the process fic”. Can’t have a fic rec list without it.
Hero Swap AU
Summary: It's a boring day for the Avengers until Tony Stark attacks.
Words: 17,391.
Just pure, fun crack.
Only a Matter of Time
Summary: Captured by aliens, mistaken for a mating pair, Tony and Stephen find themselves having the universe’s most awkward honeymoon.
Words: 6,056.
Smut. Good smut, though. 
Sunrise in Exile
Summary: Tony does the math and realizes their best chance to save the universe is by... not confronting Thanos on his own turf. 
So he steals a wizard and a spider and a space ship. And he runs.
(Three humans and an A.I in space, the alien friendships they make along the way, and discovering how science and magic might coexist in a universe where they can be one and the same.)
Words: 352,079 (incomplete, has not been updated in a while)
A long fic set during Infinity War where they just ... run away to space. And it’s great.
Rewriting Icarus
Summary: Stephen and Tony, from the beginning to the end and beyond.
Words: 23,504
Pre-powers AU, except they fall in love then get powers. Sad, angsty, beautiful. 
variations on a theme
Summary: Stephen sees into millions of possibilities and finds only one where they win, but he never expected to end up falling in love with Tony Stark in almost every single one of them.
Words: 5,134
Another Stephen looks through the possible futures and falls in love with Tony? ... Guess you can’t have just one. 
Five’s A Party
Summary: It's an orgy fic, I'm not sure what else to say
Words: 2,639
... Not much I can add to that. Magic smut. 
A Lapse in Judgement
Summary: Stephen, the newly minted Sorcerer Supreme, is strong, powerful, and in control of his life in every micromanaged detail, because failure to do so could result in (another) cataclysmic event within the universe. He is. But then Stephen accepts an off-handed offer to spar from Tony Stark – a man who is Stephen’s non-magical equal, a man who Stephen barely sees outside of bi-weekly meetings and the few and far between fight against a villain – and Stark discovers Stephen’s biggest weakness, his most hateful secret that is a deeply fundamental part of Stephen’s psyche.
Except instead of judgement, and horror, and disgust, Stark meets him halfway, and a lapse in judgement turns into a possibility that could change their lives forever.
Words: 22,694
This is the first of a series which was just updated (haven’t finished reading the new part yet, looking forward to it) and is just a really good, surprisingly soft and emotional BDSM series/fic.
Ironstrange Fics and Ironstrange Cinematic Universe
Oh, how did these get here?
Yes, I’m reccing my own work. I’ve written 29 fics and 377,132 words for this ship, I think I’m entitled.
Ironstrange Fics is a collection of every ironstrange fic I’ve written, short, long, sweet, angst, and everything in between. Ironstrange Cinematic Universe (itself responsible for 49% of those 377k words) is my ironstrange rewrite of the MCU specifically. Please read, enjoy, and leave comments, I’m not updating any fics for a couple of weeks and I need the validation. 
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iturbide · 3 years
Text
AU Masterlist
For ease of reference, all AUs will be linked to their respective tag on the blog; for fics marked as ‘In Progress’ or ‘Complete,’ status will link to AO3 if the work has an entry there; for fics marked as ‘One-Shot,’ status will link to either AO3 or Tumblr; for fics marked as ‘In Development,’ status will link to a Tumblr summary or outline of the complete work; all ‘In Planning’ works will be left unlinked. 
Fire Emblem: Awakening
The Future Built Upon the Past (In Progress) - My Awakening magnum opus; a look at the events of the doomed timeline and how it led to the course of events that eventually sent Lucina back in time to alter the course of fate.
Affectionately Yours (Complete) - Accepting Plegia’s invitation to visit in his sister’s stead, Chrom rapidly comes to realize that everything he thought he knew about the halidom’s neighbor is at best a wild exaggeration thanks to the guidance of Plegia’s sovereign, Robin.
Cursed Fate (Complete) - A Shadow of the Colossus AU; following Robin’s death, Chrom takes his body back to Plegia for burial; when a disembodied whisper confirms that there may be a chance to restore Robin’s life, Chrom goes on a quest through the Grimleal nation to bring together Grima’s remains.
Crown of Shadows (Complete) / The Shrouded Throne (Complete) - A split-path narrative where, to stop the civil war raging in Plegia, Robin comes to Ylisse to beg aid from Exalt Emmeryn.    After getting drafted by accident into the Shepherds, the Plegian and the Ylissean prince become fast friends – and very soon, something more. 
Accursed Divine (In Progress) - Robin is trapped in a curse that transforms her by day into a fell beast.  Once the curse is broken, the ensuing political drama follows Robin and Chrom uniting their countries after Robin’s ascension to the Plegian throne.
Sigh No More (In Progress) - An arranged marriage AU where following a crushing defeat at Plegian hands, Chrom’s father is forced to wed his son to Robin, who due to Validar’s ritual in her early life now bears more than just Grima’s mark as a sign of her fellblood; despite a rocky beginning, the two become friends and even find love in the union that had only ever been part of politics and power.
Beyond Twilight’s Veil (In Planning) - When Risen begin appearing in Ylisse, Chrom ventures into Plegia on Emmeryn’s behalf to try to find a joint solution, meeting and readily befriending Robin along the way.  When things go wrong, leaving Robin half-transformed and Validar dead, the Shepherds are forced to flee Gangrel’s pursuit; two years later, Robin claims the Plegian throne and reaches out to Ylisse in an attempt to rebuild lost friendships.
War Crimes (In Planning) - A collab with anankos; the Exalt of Ylisse becomes a willing host to Naga’s power in a bid to wipe Plegia off the map, but the Fell Dragon’s return puts the war in a deadlock.  Chrom is kidnapped and brought to Plegia in a desperate bid to open diplomatic channels, but when that fails he ends up as as a guest and becomes unlikely friends with Robin, the son of a Plegian tactician (who has more than a few secrets).
Manwearer (In Planning) - After becoming separated from his mother, Robin is raised by the taguel of Panne’s warren.  On hearing about a threat to the Exalt’s life, the warren mobilizes to her aid, and Robin and Panne ally with the Shepherds to uncover the deeper mystery behind the attack. 
Assassin’s Creed: Awakening (In Planning) - An Assassin’s Creed AU; when Emmeryn is kidnapped and slated to become a Grimleal sacrifice, Chrom and the Shepherds rush to save her – only her rescue comes at Plegian hands, instead.  Defying his crusading father, Chrom chooses to stand by Robin and ends up embroiled in a millennia-old conflict between secret forces.
Smoke and Mirrors (In Planning) - A Pokemon crossover AU; Robin and her Zoroark Reflet (who prefers a human guise that passes for her brother) join with Chrom, a Pokemon Ranger branching out into competitive training; and his sister Lissa, an aspiring pokemon medic.   This brings them into conflict with the Grimleal who are hunting for the Legendary Pokemon Giratina – a pokemon that Robin and Reflet have a very curious connection to.
Sibling AU (In Planning) - Grima is Robin’s older brother and unwilling puppet ruler of Plegia; when Emmeryn invites the recently-crowned king to Ylisse for diplomatic discussions, Grima sneaks his younger brother along to show him the world he’s never had a chance to see, and both unexpectedly find new friends in what they long believed were enemy lands.
Cardcaptor Lissa (In Planning) - A Cardcaptor Sakura crossover AU where Lissa accidentally unseals the Book of Naga and releases magical cards into the world; with the help of a tiny dragon named Tiki, she has to recapture them all before Grima reawakens to usher in the end of days. 
Promare AU (In Planning) - A Promare AU; after Chrom thwarts a group of Grimleal dark mages from kidnapping an Ylissean family, his world is turned upside down by a series of shocking revelations, and he chooses to side with Robin to save the Ylissean Grimleal imprisoned by his father’s orders.
As You Are (In Planning) - Robin comes to Ylisse on a diplomatic mission, hoping to warn the Exalt of a potential threat; when an attack leaves the Plegian blind, Chrom confesses his feelings – only to be rebuffed as Robin believes that the feelings are born of guilt, leaving Chrom to grapple with what he fears are unrequited feelings.
Pride and Joy (In Planning) - Raised in Plegia under Mustafa’s care, Robin is drafted into Validar’s assassination attempt on Emmeryn – but decides that the orders should not be fulfilled and defects, saving the Exalt’s life.  In the trials to follow, Robin tries to keep the Ylisseans safe from Gangrel’s forces without exposing her own wavering loyalties.
Prisoner of War (In Planning) - The Exalt’s war has left Plegia in ruins, its citizens scattered and the remnants of the army using guerrilla tactics to oppose the crusade.   When his father calls him to the front, Chrom is captured by the Plegian resistance, and rapidly discovers that everything he thought he knew about Plegia (and the Heart of Grima who took him captive) is wrong.
Speaker for the Dead (In Planning) - Raised under Validar’s cruel abuse, Robin exists as little more than a hollow shell, surviving each day on the battlefield.  When Chrom reaches out to him and offers a glimpse of something better than the threat of death, Robin cautiously accepts and gradually begins to recover from the traumas of Validar’s upbringing.
Design Defect (One-Shot) - A modern AU where Robin is the son of the head of the Grimleal mafia who enters Ylisstol University and meets Chrom, son of Exalt Corp’s CEO and the heir to the family company.  While Robin might have some ulterior motives for getting close to Chrom at first, he quickly gets in over his head.
Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Kintsugi (In Planning) - A Golden Deer-based golden route, where Claude decides from the moment he reunites with Byleth that they’re going to save as many lives as possible.
Pre-Timeskip Fix-It (In Planning) - A Black Eagles-based fix-it AU where Byleth gets to shut down Edelgard’s alarming rhetoric every time she opens her mouth, and the Imperial princess stumbles her way through the process of becoming a better person.
Spite Project (In Planning) - A canon-divergent AU where the question of “what would have happened if Edelgard had hired Miklan to kill Claude and Dimitri at the start of the year?” leads to Claude and Dimitri saving each other in more ways than one. 
Bad End AU (In Development) - A Crimson Flower AU exploring the logical consequences and fall-out associated with Edelgard’s conquest of Fodlan, her deceptions regarding the Agarthan menace, and her choice to kill Claude at Derdriu.
Proof of Life (One-Shot) - After establishing an uneasy alliance at Gronder, the joint Kingdom and Alliance forces proceed north to free Faerghus from Imperial control.  On the way, Dimitri and Claude are ambushed by an Imperial assassin, leaving Claude seriously injured; on the way to safety, though, Dimitri is shaken by the Alliance leader’s words, and begins to question his purpose and his ultimate goals.
Fire Emblem: Heroes
Hard Reset (In Planning) - A bad-end Heroes AU where Muspell invades Askr and wipes out the Order of Heroes – but before Surtr can kill Kiran, they fire Breidablik, which somehow transports them to another Zenith.  Taken in by the Emblians, Kiran sets about trying to prevent the ruin that befell the world they were first summoned to.
Controlled Chaos (One-Shot) - In the midst of battle against Muspell, Kiran is taken prisoner by Laegjarn and whisked away from the field; when the leaders of the Order elect to wait, the Heroes take matters into their own hands -- led by the last Hero anyone would have expected.
To The Last (One-Shot) - Though peace has finally established between Askr and Embla, Kiran is unexpectedly struck down by an old illness from their life before they were summoned; the Heroes band together in hopes of finding a cure...but in the end, it all comes down to a prayer.
Promare
Life Goes On (In Planning) - My Promare magnum opus and a direct sequel to Send the Scourge, Send the Swarm exploring the Parnassus aftermath, the Promeopolis Burnish and their recovery and reintroduction to society, and the gradual evolution of the city through the combined influence of the wider Federation and the growing Burnish activism movement. 
The Enemy of My Enemy (In Planning) - A canon-divergent AU where Lio and the Mad Burnish managed to save those captured by Freeze Force before they were taken to the Lake Friege detention center; after awkwardly helping the Mad Burnish slip through Kray’s trap, Galo inadvertently becomes entangled with the affairs of the terrorist organization.
Pokemon
Project: Elements (In Planning) - My Pokemon magnum opus following a scientist in Team Rocket who discovers that her genetic theory has been put into practice without her knowledge or consent; taking charge of the project herself, she finds herself warring with the ethics and morality of her work when young lives hang in the balance.
Pokekids (In Planning) - Based on an FYCD prompt meshed with an original story in development; the story revolves around an original region and original characters setting out on their journey, the challenges they meet along the way, and the friends they make in the process.
InuYasha
The Rising Wind (Complete) - An AU fic based on loveyou-x3000′s Wind Prompt, exploring the aftermath of Kagura’s death, her revival in a borrowed human form, her developing bond with Sesshomaru, and their eventual family.
Maelstrom (In Planning) - A canon-divergent AU where Sesshomaru diverts Kagura after she betrays Naraku, preventing her death at his hands; as she becomes ingrained within the group, though, Naraku sees an opportunity to make use of her even when she is not within his direct control.
Ace Attorney
Crime of Passion (In Development) - My Ace Attorney magum opus; Miles Edgeworth is once again accused of murder and taken in by police, but this time Phoenix Wright won’t be able to take his case -- because the victim of the crime is none other than the defense attorney.  It’s up to Maya to defend the prosecutor this time, while Miles is forced to confront the hard truths about his relationship with the missing lawyer.
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anika-ann · 4 years
Text
Attached: Hurtful Words Pt.1
Type: (mini)-series,  Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 5600
Summary:  Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.
You knew for a fact that it was a load of BS. The truth is that words can break your heart. And that realization hits you full force the day you have your last exam to earn your bachelor degree.
If you pass, it will be a cause for great celebration. Spoiler alert: it’s not.
A/N: Attached: Hurtful Words is an addition that loosely followes the series. Will be in two (or three) parts. You don’t necessarily need to read the mini-series as a whole, but you will understand much better.
Warnings: I did something in here which I’m usually trying to avoid at any cost; in this story, I used Y/N Y/L/N. Does that count as a warning? 
Warnings II: name calling, humiliation, panic attack!, bad poetry, mentions of vomiting and  alcohol, the briefest mention of self-harm, angst, swearing, threats of violence
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Story masterlist
⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰
You released the breath you had been holding, all your willpower put into not sinking into the chair in relief as Professor Phillips announced your grade – one that meant that you hadn’t failed.
In fact, you had just passed your last exam of your bachelor program so you were entirely in the right. In your head, an overexcited monkey started playing cymbals and you didn’t mind the noise despite how sleep-deprived you were from the past few days. A barely contained mad smile fought its way to your lips instead.
Mind you, as you thanked Professor Phillips and rose to your feet – your knees almost giving out, because HOLY SHIT YOU JUST GOT YOUR BACHELOR’S – you would swear you saw a brief smile on the professor’s face too as if he was amused at your antics.
But who cared if he was having fun at your expense?! You PASSED! You had been losing sleep, terrified of this exam, because everyone knew Phillips was a hard-ass – a fair one, but still a hard-ass – and you just passed his examination!
Time to pop the fucking champagne! The one Penny had been saving at the dorm from yesterday when she had finished her own degree; she insisted that she would wait for you, because you were in this together.
You couldn’t leave her waiting any longer and you didn’t have any intention to do so.
Leaving the room and walking into the empty hallway – because of course you came the last as if to prolong your torture – you breathed in and out and deliberately let the grin finally spread on your face fully.
You were free, you were ready to take on the world despite not being ready at all and you had Steve, who you suspected would be proud as hell and would celebrate with you tomorrow, graciously letting you and your roomie do it first-- and gosh, life was beautiful.
Making your way down the corridor, with a grin ever-present, a leaflet that hadn’t been there before caught your attention. It appeared a handwritten note, styled in a regular column – a poem perhaps.
Still smiling, the curiosity took the best of you and you walked to it, peripherally noticing that along the walls, there was even more.
You froze in your step when your gaze fell on the first line; your very own name was staring back at you and it confused you at first, a brief surge of excitement lighting up your body, a naïve belief that perhaps Steve somehow decided to surprise you.
But Steve’s last name came next, which you found strange.
And then came the word ‘whore’ and your heart stopped, your gaze automatically flickering all over the page.
Your stomach made a painful somersault, your mind turning blank.
You couldn’t take your eyes off of that nightmare materializing in front of you, reading and re-reading the poem that almost resembled a twisted nursery rhyme over and over.
Y/N Y/L/N Rogers’ whore Bet she’ll get The highest score For sucking dick Having fucked her ass Let’s hope she’ll soon Be eating grass
Darkness battled to cut off your vision, the world swaying off of its place. Involuntarily, your trembling hand reached out and touched the paper, smooth under your fingertips, your frantically beating heart and the vertigo threating to overpower your sense of balance tying you to the reality, screaming at you that this wasn’t just a really fucked-up dream.
You tore the paper down, lump growing in your throat as you looked around for watchful eyes in sudden paranoia of being followed, only to find the hallway deserted aside from you.
Just you and many papers hanging on the walls.
As if you were just a puppet to a spiteful master, your feet carried you to the next leaflet, tears filling your eyes as you found the very same words written on it; a precise copy.
Your breathing picked up a furious pace, your chest crushed under a weight of an invisible elephant stomping on it. The corridor swam in the dampness of your eyes, your mind too quiet and yet screaming with millions of question marks and exclamation points, panic squeezing your lungs, nausea attacking your stomach.
What the hell was happening? Who would do that? Why? What was the goal? Was it just to ruin your triumph?
Because if that was the goal, it was a roaring success; the thousands of questions swirling in your head and the unexpected sting in your heart turned the fact that you had passed an exam into a faint memory.
All you saw was the words.
Rogers’s whore
Was that what you were? Was that how people who knew about the relationship saw you? Was that how Steve saw you?
The highest score for sucking dick
Was that what you were doing? Using Steve’s position to your advantage? Was that how you got through every exam including the one today, even if unwittingly? Was that what Phillips’ little smile had been about?
Hope she’ll soon be eating grass.
Was that a threat? Was someone wishing that happened to you or were they actually about to hurt you? Why?!
Hearing your own wheezing and feeling your fingertips prickling, your foggy mind did the only reasonable thing it could come up with; it led your steps into the nearest bathroom at lightning speed with no regard for how shaky were your feet.
You stumbled into the open stall, smashing the door shut and leaning onto them with your suddenly damp forehead, feeling the cold beads of sweat gather in your hairline, your cheeks drenching in tears.
When did you start crying so hard?
When did the trembling in your limbs begin?
What the fuck was happening?
What-how--why-but-
Your palms rested on the door as you desperately tried and failed to ground yourself and take control of your breathing. Your temples were pounding irritatingly, your gut painfully clenching--- and exactly in that moment that could have lasted a second or an hour, your fingers brushed over a piece of paper stuck on the door.
Darkness curled around your brain like a treacherous friend, another wave of nausea twisting your stomach.
It took you one blurry glance at the paper and you knew precisely what it was, choking on your sob, ripping the offensive poem off and tearing it to pieces which you blindly threw to the toilet, the flushing sound deafening to your ears.
Your shaky legs finally gave out, knees buckling, your body sliding down the stall wall, fingers pulling at your hair as you felt the dizziness engulfing your head, a bitter taste in your mouth.
You gripped tighter, hoping that the pain on the surface would overpower the pain and gaping hole inside, as another violent sob erupted from your throat.
⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰
An eternity later, you felt your whole being float.
Your breathing was still frantic and interrupted with sobs, but a sensation resembling serenity spread in your very core—or perhaps it was just numbness?
You couldn’t seem to be able to tell the difference anymore.
The creak of a door made you cover your mouth to muffle the noises still escaping your lips for the fear of being caught – either being found in this state in general or found as in found by the person who wrote---that – being stronger than the subdued power of your previous breakdown.
It was probably too late for the newcomer to miss your presence, but over the slowly fading ringing in your ears, you could hear a few steps that came to a halt and then they sounded a bit quicker as the woman left.
Thank FUCK. You couldn’t do human interaction of any kind right now.
You removed your hand and breathed out shakily, blinking away the tears.
Shaking your head wildly, you gritted your teeth in a feeble attempt at bolster yourself. You had to get up off your ass and leave before there would be no longer way of avoiding a confrontation – god forbid a confrontation with Steve, who was probably still in a class, testing his own students.
You climbed to your feet, wiping the remains of your tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand and went to fix your ruined make-up, hopefully enough to look little less suspicious when walking through the campus.
It was probably a vain effort, because you were a walking epitome of a mess.
Rogers’s whore, sounded in your ears and you shook your head again, inhaling sharply through your mouth.
It was time to run and then break down again at the dorms. With Penny preferably--or did she think you were a whore too? You were fucking a professor after all-
Stop that!
Penny wasn’t like that. She understood. She’d be willing to listen all about this outrageous act of terror and would sympathize. Right?
Yeah, you’d talk about it with Penny, your amazing friend, who needed a celebration and a very generous amount of alcohol, which happened to be exactly what you needed too.
Yep, that sounded pretty good.
With one last determined glance on your horrible reflection in the mirror, you headed out.
The door nearly hit you in the face on its way back as you threw it open and froze in the doorway.
You did not expect to see someone so soon after leaving your improvised safe space… let alone him.
“Prof-professor Wilson,” you choked out, clearing your scratchy throat as he stood there, unmistakably waiting for you.
Because that was what you needed at the moment. The university counsellor and professor of psychology in one person.
Fuck.
He said you name in a mild tone, almost as if trying to tame a wild animal, but not quite – all his voice made you feel was shame at getting caught. And a bit of anger at the whole fucking world, because why couldn’t you have a tiny piece of peace after seeing that? Just a little shred of luck, huh?!
Oh, right, you were a whore who were only using Professor Rogers, paying for it in sexual favours.
“Mind if we talk in my office for a bit?”
“Not like I really have a choice…” you mumbled automatically, the realization of how rude it sounded dawning to you oh too slowly, your brain too tangled up in a web of self-pity and self-loathing. “Sorry. Of course. Lead the way.”
“Good. Thank you,” he replied, appearing unoffended. “And for the record, you do have a choice.”
Hadn’t you been a wreck with burning tear-stained cheeks, your face might have felt hotter at the kind remark.
At the slowest pace possible, you followed Professor Wilson to his office, dread and exhaustion filling every fibre of your being.
You noticed however that the walls that had been lined with odes about you, put up for everyone to see, had disappeared; possibly Wilson’s own work.
Somehow, it didn’t make you feel much better, the image of the previous addition to the corridors’ decor stuck in your brain. But hey, it was supposed to be the thought that counted, right?
And Professor Wilson was a nice guy. He offered you a drink – sadly a non-alcoholic one – attempted a joke saying that no, it was no trouble getting you one, which was the reason he offered.
Generally, he treated you as if he wanted to provide you with a safe space.
And then he kindly told you that he knew about the poem, because his cousin who’s in her first year here at the uni, texted him what the heck was the e-mail she received on her uni account about.
In other word, he gently broke to you that whoever had done this possibly sent it to every student in the database too.
You nearly threw up hearing that; the pit you had climbed up from and of which edge you were balancing, deepened. But you didn’t fall back there.
Yet.
It was probably because you were still too shocked at the information.
“I hate asking that question, but do you have any idea who did this?” Wilson asked quietly and you had nothing but a helpless shake of a head for a reply. You felt your vision blurring, dizziness fogging your brain again. “Can you think of anyone who holds a grudge against you for some reason?”
A scoff escaped your lips, cynical as you found the answer obvious from the verses.
“Besides dating Steve, you mean?” you noted sarcastically. Wilson waited for more, his eyebrows twitching in surprise and expectation before he got it under control. “Sorry, I meant Professor Rog-“
“Hey, you can call him Steve,” he assured you, so damn sweet and diligent. “I met him, you know, I’d go as far as calling him a friend. And right here, right now, he is not your professor, but your boyfriend. I’m talking to you as a counsellor so feel free to call me Sam if you’re comfortable. And to answer your question, I assume that it is as good motive as any, but the fact that the two of you are dating is practically a public knowledge at this point, so it doesn’t really narrow our field of suspects.”
Despite his openness and kind approach, you once again could only shrug, growing desperate by the minute. The urge to leave – because suddenly it made even more sense, him taking you here, he was friends with Steve, he was stalling – became unbearable.
You didn’t have the strength to see Steve now. You couldn’t. You would question every gesture, analyse everything and perhaps came to the conclusion that he agreed with the author of the poem and you desperately didn’t want that. You needed to forget about this, preferably with an unhealthy amount of alcohol, you needed to cry some more, you needed ice-cream and a hug and to bitch about everything and you needed a fucking nap that would last at least a week.
“I don’t know who hates me that much, I swear. Can I please go now?”
Sam cocked his head to side, a minute frown creasing his brows. “Is that what you want?”
Do you really want to leave before Steve gets a chance to get here?
You should probably feel guilty. You wanted to feel guilty, because that was you being a coward and it was downright mean to Steve, who would no doubt learn about this very soon and from someone else, but you didn’t have the capacity to think about anything at all besides feeling like you were going to explode any second.
“Yes. Thanks for being nice and all, but I—I’d rather go.”
“You have a roommate? A friend you live with and who’s in?” he fussed, voice gravely, amiable chocolate eyes observing you with worry. Did he think you were about to hurt yourself? Did you look like the type? Were you? You mentally shook your head. Jesus.
“Yeah,” you creaked, already rising to your feet, endlessly grateful that he was letting you go. “Penny. We— uhm, we were supposed to go celebrating.”
You nearly choked on the last word, feeling like everything but going out tonight. The idea of going out and facing all the stares cause by the widely-spread e-mail made your stomach clench.
You kinda lost the appetite to celebrate anything to begin with; all the relief and joy, which had filled every last bit of your being post-learning your grade, vanished and was replaced by a dark sticky substance filling your lungs, your gut, your veins, muffling the outside world.
Perhaps Penny would agree to a loud night in?
“You can still do that, that’s up to you. But please, get some sleep and don’t be alone. Here,” he stood up as well, handing you a card. “My number, even if you just need to talk to a sort-of outsider and word-vomit all over someone, okay?”
You couldn’t argue with his offer – you had a feeling you’d vomit soon, either verbally or literally. Still, you charmed a shaky smile that probably turned out a grimace.
“K. Thanks… Sam.”
“Any time.”
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Of course, Wilson’s unspoken question about moving quick to avoid an encounter with certain professor was painfully on point.
You bailed on Steve whom you were supposed to wait for even if just for a hug and congratulations, practically running to the dorm, your unsteady feet and tears still clouding your vision be damned.
You ignored the ringing of your phone, assuming it was Steve himself; bile rose to your throat at the idea of hearing his voice at that moment. He tried twice before you smashed the power button and threw the phone back to your purse, breathing out in relief and wanting to puke at the same time.
You truly couldn’t find the capacity to deal with him momentarily – you needed to be alone and safe from any prying eyes, preferably in the comfort of your shared dorm with Penny. You cried harder when you finally reached it, your feet hurting from attempting to run in heels.
It wasn’t hard to figure out that Penny somehow already knew, probably from the e-mail – it was written all over her face. And hadn’t her expression been enough, instead of a celebratory champagne she handed you a shot of a transparent liquid the moment you opened the door.
You turned it bottoms up without questioning it and asked for another. Penny grabbed the bottle of vodka waiting on the shoe rack and poured one for you and one for herself. You didn’t bother clinking the glasses.
Though the burn in your throat felt pleasant, it did nothing to sooth the burn in your eyes and heart. Penny’s embrace made it a bit better.
So did the third shot of vodka.
You didn’t switch on your phone that day again – and when it was nearing midnight, after a four-hour nap, you convinced Penny to go celebrate to the Freddy’s as you had originally planned to do. You pretended that no one stared at you and instead you danced and drank until your mind was swimming enough for the sorrow and anger to drown.
You were one lucky bitch to have Penny walk you home.
⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰ 
Steve was sitting at his desk at the faculty office he shared with Bucky and was working hard at what he excelled at for these past days despite his genuine efforts at not doing so; getting absolutely nothing done at all.
His hands had grown somewhat unsteady, a reflection of how he was feeling, how torn and absurdly broken he had become. He was spilling drinks on a regular basis, items kept falling from his flimsy hold. His brain felt foggy these days as well, most likely a consequence of the shitty sleep he was getting.
His bed felt too big despite his rather large frame and too cold despite his body temperature usually running almost too high; the sheets smelled strange and foreign despite being his own and the bed screamed with emptiness on a volume that kept interrupting his already deficient sleep.
Four days.
Four days since one stupid poem knocked his world out of its orbit and everything that mattered crashed down. Well, perhaps not everything, Steve happened to like his job too and he still had it, but such detail seemed insignificant; it certainly did in comparison to the fact that he had been attempting and had failed to reach you.
Calls.
Texts.
Few e-mails when he felt particularly helpless and frustrated.
His messed up sleeping and eating schedule and the irregularity that came with the exam period would make a perfect case of him losing any notion of time – yet Steve knew about every second without you, practically counting them.
He could still see Sam Wilson standing outside the classroom he had been testing students’ knowledge in as if it happened yesterday. He could recall with painfully stark clarity the unreadable expression on his face and the ominous “Steve, man… we need to talk.”
Steve still remembered Tony Stark waltzing in the next day with a baby in some sort of a front backpack, agitated that someone had gotten into the database, let alone to send all the hate-emails, and how he announced he found the culprit and their accomplices in an hour, which apparently happened to be too long to his liking.
Steve would smile at the memory of the technical genius’ antics, but the gaping hole in his chest caused by the deafening silence from you prevented it. Hell, not even the vivid picture of Carol Danvers from the faculty of law, moonlighting like a member of the legal department of the university, made the corners of his lips rise.
And hadn’t it been quite a show, a downright uplifting experience.
Steve was watching the screen with a frown, a stone-solid clench to his jaw and a firm clench to his fists.
It was almost amusing really; Bucky kept going about Fury being a creep and not a spy, but despite the lack of a one-way glass, the space Carol and the girl was in – just like two other rooms, each with one man – resembled an interrogation room. Steve never had been more grateful for audio and video feed in his life, but he sure as hell wasn’t laughing in delight at being proved right.
In fact, it had been taking all of his willpower not to burst into those rooms and give a piece of his mind to every single person guilty of being involved in hurting you. In causing his life to collapse on itself.
Steve couldn’t quite recall the brunet Carol was roasting, but he suspected he had seen her in one of the classes he was teaching. She didn’t stand out from the crowd of students and he didn’t see anything special about her worth remembering; then again, he tended to forget to take notice of other pretty faces ever since he had laid his eyes on yours.
And right now, all he saw was a face of a vicious bitch who forced you into pushing him away and a single look at her had his blood boiling.
Steve truly wanted to punch the living daylights of her and that said something, because he prided himself in having moral objection to hitting women, especially from sheer anger.
However, the desire was growing with each piece of information he learned. Because Yvonne Whatever-Is-Her-Name was a piece of work for fucking certain.
She talked a guy number one, whom she was attending Introduction to Social Studies 101 and who had a very apparent teenage-like crush on her, into reaching out to his friend, guy number two, whom he often played some online video game with, into hacking the database, sending the e-mails and finding out when and where exactly your exam was, just so Yvonne herself could redecorate the corridors and bathroom and make sure you wouldn’t miss her work of art.
Carol was alternating between visiting each of the ‘suspects’ and man, did they sing like birds.
Steve wanted to strangle them all, but fuck, the hatred for Yvonne Burton specifically was already consuming him and gnawing at his very soul; yes, he found out her last name just so he knew his mortal enemy. He was going to burn her to the ground, one way or the other… not that Carol hadn’t been doing a fine job so far.
That damn brunet had tears running down her face, sobbing occasionally, but still rarely sassing back. Somehow, seeing her like that wasn’t half as satisfying as Steve hoped, because his mind kept wandering to you and wondering if you looked about the same and every time such picture formed in his head, he hated Ms.Burton a fraction more.
She had used a guy who liked her, which Carol blatantly pointed out. The lawyer didn’t seem to hold back her own snark if the question about how the culprits met – via some forum for bruised ego, was it? – was anything to go by.
“I might be a lawyer, but I’m begging for every art professor and author I know – stay away from poetry. What you wrote is a child’s rhyme really, but like every writing, it says a lot about who you are. And it gives me a plenty of ammunition. We have two names, one full, one last name pointing out a specific person from the context. If I play my cards right, we have defamation on our hands, libel to be precise. Congratulation,” Carol remarked in a surprisingly calm voice. The other woman visibly paled. Good. “And what about the last line? Is that… is that a threat of violence? I can make it harassment, but if I try hard enough, perhaps we can consider it something more serious…?”
“You don’t get to threaten me! You’re lying! I’ve done nothing wrong and so serious!” the girl – and really, in Steve’s eyes, she was nothing but a stupid girl who somehow managed to kick his life in its balls – exploded, jumping to her feet.
Carol levelled her with a glare and an irritated hiss. “Sit down.” Burton did, clammy hands curled up in trembling fists. “And you’ve done more than enough.”
“You don’t understand!”
“Oh don’t I? Be my guest then. Explain it. Your motivation, the legal side, anything. I’m all ears.”
“I love him!” the girl exclaimed and Steve grinded his teeth as a surge of rage shooting through his veins.
Like fucking hell she did. He didn’t remember even talking to her if he ever had to start with and she loved him?!
Was that really what this was about? This girl somewhat liked him and got obsessed? Decided to wreck his girlfriend? To what end? To drive the two of you apart? To make you hate him so he would run to her? To simply ruin your future? What the fuck was wrong with her?! She was a damn kid with hurt pride and zero efforts put in so far, because he couldn’t even remember her-
“Oh you really don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have done this,” Carol responded with a cold edge to her voice, apparently agreeing with Steve’s thoughts and being equally unimpressed with Ms.Burton dramatic confession.
“I’m fighting for him! Ain’t nothing wrong-”
Oh Steve would argue with that so hard. He could feel Sam watching him from the corner of his eye, but neither of them said anything as Steve gripped the edge of the table the monitors were on.
He was sure he was going to be sick, the edge of his vision doing something he only read about; as if truly turning red, crimson with hunger for blood. He never ever craved tearing someone in half, not a single one of the guys who bullied him in school, not the girls that laughed at him when he said he liked them; and make no mistake, he had always felt mad enough.
But right now, he tasted undiluted rage and it tasted like acid with a bitter aftertaste of iron and copper, searing hot on his tongue and spreading through his body, turning it heavy and nauseatingly light at the same time.
“No, you’re ruining his life,” Carol emphasized, leaning onto the table and glaring murder at the girl. “If this is your idea of fighting for someone, it’s pretty twisted. You could have done literally anything to make him notice you, hell, pick you, but leave if he still said no, because that’s a sensible thing to do. But instead, you hurt someone he cared about. And that means you hurt him too – not to mention that his name is in there, possibly putting a scrap on his reputation. If you did love him, you’d want him to be happy.”
Steve gulped and looked away, unable to bear the weight of Carol’s words, feeling the jab on his own person. Because he was familiar with being accused of ruining someone’s life and future despite seemingly loving them. God knew that on a rainy day, he wondered about his own ‘love’ and its purity too – and now, it was fucking pouring and Steve had been forced to question everything he knew.
Was this little brunet Satan a godsend in fact? Was she supposed to tell him to stop lying to himself about not being your doom? Just what kind of a mess this stunt would have made had you been working a steady job and this got to your employer?
A gentle hand reached for his shoulder, a silent support, and Steve found himself torn between irritated, grateful and deeply ashamed.
No matter how much he hated it, he should be on the list to get punched for hurting you too.
“So, sorry to break it to you, but you don’t love him,” Carol continued and with Sam’s palm on his shoulder, Steve forced himself to watch the scene, the grand finale. “You’re just a little girl with attitude issues, a crush that got out of hand, and a ton of luck for knowing a guy willing to help you. Guess what – you just ran out of that luck.”
Heavy silence fell on the interrogation room and Steve’s eyes slid shut, hearing Carol and Yvonne’s parting words.
“And just so you know, she didn’t get the highest score. She got a B.”
Steve didn’t even know that and despite all the shit they were in, he felt a surge of pride for his g- hopefully still his girl.
At the same time, the fact that he learned it from Carol and not from you as he still couldn’t reach you, felt like a punch to his solar plexus.
Carol entered the monitoring room with a discontent expression on her face, wordlessly telling Steve and Sam that the conversation, no matter how harsh, wasn’t satisfying enough.
Still, Steve glanced at her and nodded with severity.
“Thank you, Carol,” he rasped, surprised by how hoarse his own voice sounded; for the burn of rage in his stomach and the tension in his muscles, he almost forgot about the lump gradually growing in his throat with each hour of silence from you.
“My damn pleasure,” Carol huffed with slight irritation, one clearly not aimed at Steve. She subtly raised her eyebrows. “I kinda want to punch her, but I guess I’m not the only one, huh?”
Steve sighed and closed his eyes, his hands almost shaking with the said need. Still, it was surprisingly relieving to be called out on that and to learn that he wasn’t the only one. And when he opened his eyes again, the look on Carol’s face told him that she wasn’t blaming him one bit.
“You have no fucking idea, I- Jesus, I never wanted to—to-- so much in my life.“
The rise of one corner of her lips was sympathetic. “We’ll handle this, Steve. I know it’s hard to hear, but you can’t really help us here. Go home. Rest.”
The lump in Steve’s throat grew nearly suffocating at the idea of going to the empty apartment, where his uselessness became even more evident. Steve eyed Sam, searching with hope for any sign of a better advice, but the counsellor only nodded to second Carol’s thought.
“Go home and try to call your girl. She’ll pick up eventually.”
At that time Steve had done exactly that – however, the result had remained identical to those with his previous attempts. You hadn’t picked up and he had left a voicemail and a pathetic text that somehow seemed to be reflecting all of his insecurities and doubts about your relationship and it hadn’t turned out at all as he had planned – and then it had been too late to take it back.
He had sent another and another, almost hour after hour and he was gradually realizing that he was forgoing all hope and his faith in what you two had and what it could become in the future; and god, did he want the future so badly.
But he couldn’t always get what he wanted, could he? He thought that a miracle had happened when he had first met you and later heard your yes to the date. But here you were.
Four days from that terrible incident.
Did Steve even believe that you two were supposed to be together? He didn’t even know anymore. Perhaps it was an intervention from some higher power and you two breaking apart was meant to be, saving you a heartbreak and disillusions which were about to come later.
He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought and the sensation that felt like a punch to his gut, his insides cramping.
That was not true. You two loved each other. You had found something truly amazing in each other and you were about to reach out to him any minute so you could continue to your brighter future together.
…right?
Except a minute passed by and nothing happened, the phone Steve was toying with remaining silent.
No received text or e-mail.
No incoming call.
Another minute and then another ten, the phone still spinning in his hand in almost a reflex at that point and still not lighting up.
The knot in Steve’s gut turned tighter and tighter, the tension in his shoulders and jaw growing, his mantra of you surely contacting him gradually falling silent.
Finally, he came to the decision that only fools kept doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result.
He was supposed to do that a long long time ago, the moment he had convinced himself that coming knocking on your dorm could be considered harassment… and would break his heart in case you’d shut the door to his face telling him you were done with him.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Steve swept through his contacts and dialled your best friend and roommate in one person.
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Part 2
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Thank you for reading!
Let me know what you thought! I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ doing something with randomly timed shots to a series, so… you know. I’m a bit nervous. And I guess that this is very different from what this series was so far too, so I hope it’s okay. Thank you :-*
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strange-lace · 3 years
Text
I wrote a little something for my roleswapped traffic light trio AU! It’s of dubious quality and I’m posting it without any editing, but just take it!
“Guess now I know why you never talked about your family, huh?” Mei winced as Green helped her back on her feet, the numerous bruises on her body aching to remind her they exist. He had the decency to look ashamed, black hair now it’s true bright red and seemed to waver like flame with uncomfortable heat building up within his throat. Looks like using his flames after repressing them for who knows how long was like opening up a shaken soda, a sudden onslaught that was difficult to control due to built up pressure.
“Yes… I’m sorry though that I never told you Mei. I just… never knew how to broach the subject and I was…” He didn’t need to say more.
“You were worried I’d think you were faking our friendship this whole time to help your parents, weren’t you?” Green gave her a sheepish nod, words for once failing him. Mei could only give an exasperated sigh, a tired smile tugging at her lips. “Green, my dude, light of my life, my cinnamon apple… you are an idiot. Even if I had briefly thought that, you don’t go to the lengths you had to get information for parents you clearly hate. Besides, unless you guys can see the future, we’ve been friends long before I became the Monkie Kid.”
“So… you’re not mad?” Green didn’t protest as Mei leaned against him, his support a big help as they both began to walk through the woods back to the battle.
“Oh no, I’m absolutely furious, but not at you. Remind me to bury both your parents under a mountain when we’re done here. Because it means not only do they treat Demon Kid like garbage, they did the same to you, didn’t they?”
“Well… it wasn’t just them that led to me leaving but that’s a whole different story Mei. One that would take a while for me to explain and now is not the time to go through my entire tragic backstory.” Normally Mei would push a bit more but the sheer exhaustion weighing on her friend’s shoulder was enough for her to let things go… for now at least. She certainly exempt from the weariness that was just as heavy on her bones.
“It’s gonna be a pain dyeing this black again,” Green groaned as his fingers combed through his hair with distaste in a poor attempt to bring order back to the messy ponytail.
“I think red looks good on you though! Why not keep it that way? Not like anybody’s gonna connect techhead Green with the missing demon prince Red Son.” He was shaking his head before Mei even finished.
“You remember what we read in Demon Kid’s diary, he’s practically made it his life mission to find me and return me home. I don’t even want to touch the marriage thing right now. He may be nice enough to us, but we have no clue how far he’s willing to go with something like this. It’s better for everyone involved if Red Son remains missing. Preferably forever!”
Mei didn’t look impressed with this answer.
“Eventually someone’s going to find out y’know? And give him some credit, I doubt he’d go as far as you're worried. I mean… it’s Demon Kid, Green! Guy goes more out of his way to save us from other demons more times then he’s tried to kill us.”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate your faith in him Mei. But please, can we drop it for now. There’s more important things to worry about.” Mei would put her hands up in surrender if she still wasn’t relying on him to keep her legs going.
“Alright, but remember what I said: secrets have a nasty way of getting out, whether you want them to or not. Last thing I want is for you to get hurt because of this. And if push comes to shove, I’ll protect you. From your parents, Demon Kid, anybody who tries to drag you back to them. Go it?”
Green remained silent before giving Mei a brief hug and she didn’t need to hear him speak to feel his gratitude. They continued walking on out of the forest, ready to wrap things up and sleep for the next couple of days and allow their fatigued selves to rest.
Their mutual exhaustion was a good explanation as to why they failed to notice a small monkey-shaped puppet hiding within the tree canopy above, her red eyes gleefully broadcasting what it just witnessed to the other side of her mental link, with her creator.
To say Demon Kid was speechless was an understatement.
His prince was under his nose this whole time, hiding among humans and working with Sun Wukong’s successor. Not even Noodle Girl had known until just now.
His prince didn’t disappear but instead ran away from home.
They read his diary. 
They knew about his mission and fantasies of returning the prince home for who knows how long.
Demon Kid felt like all his hopes and dreams were crumbling around him with no one to catch him.
The anger, hurt, and betrayal were crushing him and before he knew it, he had thrown his makeshift throne across the room. It was only the sound of it crashing against it that snapped him out of it.
His breath was still ragged from his screaming but now his anger was more focused with a clear directive in mind.
He was going to hunt those two down to the ends of the Earth if he had to. 
And he was going to get answers from his prince or drag him home kicking and screaming.
“Ju.” Said puppet quickly snapped to attention, her left leg decorated with an ornate painting of an orchid growing and climbing the limb until stopping around her hip.
“Y-Yes Demon Kid?” She sounded cautious, as if afraid he would redirect his rage upon her. That was enough to make Demon Kid take a deep breath and calm himself, refusing to ever stoop that low.
“Get me my outfit that we’ve been preparing for the king’s victory. Seems we’ll be revealing the number sooner than expected.”
“Oh? But we were saving that for special occasions, sir. Why the change in plans?” Ju’s genuine curiosity was sweet enough to have Demon Kid cooing if he wasn’t determined to catch himself a demon.
“I’ve found him Ju, my prince. I know where he is now and I’m getting answers. I have to show I mean business as well, you understand?”
That had Ju and the other puppets in the vicinity to briefly freeze in shock before they broke out in cheers, seemingly unaware of the tension in their leader’s shoulders.
“Oh my goodness sir, this is a special occasion! You’ve been working so hard to find him and now it’s all going to be paid off! We have to prepare while you’re gone! There’s so much to do! GIRLS, GET THE ROYAL NUMBER OUT, OUR PRINCE IS COMING HOME!” And like that, Ju was off as she began to direct the rest of her comrades to what she could only imagine was going to be a momentous occasion for the royal family.
The chaos which blossomed from the announcement was enough to have Demon Kid thankful that the other demons of his ruler's court knew better to eavesdrop on him and his puppets. Last thing he wanted was this getting out before Demon Kid could get his answers.
He didn’t have the heart to correct Ju as she alongside a handful of female puppets that formed her group dragged Demon Kid along with the excitement of getting a bride ready for her wedding.
And if he didn’t listen to the whole conversation from Muffin, perhaps he could have shared that joy. Instead, he felt nothing but stone cold determination as the girls painted his face, prepared his hair, and dressed him with the elaborate Royal Number.
By the end of the process, Demon Kid himself wouldn’t have looked out of place among royalty. He was able to muster a proud smile as he looked over himself in the mirror before turning to Ju’s group.
“You did wonderful my dears. I’ll be off now, but please don’t go overboard on the place while I’m gone.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it sir!” Ju’s tone made it obvious she would find a loophole to his request, so Demon Kid simply sighed before he vanished in a whirlwind of smoke, a man on a mission.
He was coming for his prince and if need be, he would show those two the full extent of his powers if they didn’t give him the answers that he wanted.
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sleepy-bunbun-ace · 2 years
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after becoming giratina's conduit, emmet starts to notice things that other people wouldn't. like how that police officer in alola is actually a ditto. like how that magmortar is actually mew. like how that gym leader in training isn't from this time.
wait, what?
melli introduces himself as gym leader olympia's trainee when he visits kalos. at a first glance, melli seems like he's from this time but emmet knows better. he notices how much he dislikes poke balls but acknowledges how useful they are, how he keeps using the phrase 'almighty sinnoh', how he sometimes slips up and calls himself a warden, how scared he is of his giant shiny gardevoir. he especially notices how he wears the symbol of a long dead clan due to the colonization of sinnoh.
usually those things can be written off but there's also an air around melli. an air that signals he's out of place in this time. not to mention there's still a lot of residue of the space-time distortion that brought him to this era and the amnesia.
emmet decides to help him. they help him get closer to his gardevoir. they help him get used to poke balls. they give him knowledge about this era. they help him blend in easier. melli may have a chance to go back to his own era, but if he never learns about this era, he won't survive. emmet knows better than anyone that this era, while peaceful, is still veerry dangerous.
melli was not there to see the team flare incident but he was there when the rift crisis happened in hisui.
in emmet's own opinion, melli landed in a much more dangerous era. this era is filled with dangerous weapons, teams who will do anything to get to their goals, devices able to control legendary pokemon. they need to prepare him for the worst.
they're thankful for the appearance change. while the regions are much more skeptical about what almost all of unova is dead set on, the regions still need to hunt them down. it's annoying, honestly.
for now, emmet will enjoy this time of peace as they help melli. they think he'll make a fine gym leader. it's quite unfortunate leader adaman never saw any potential in one of his own wardens.
and if they ever meet again during a crisis where future, present, and past mix together, well it's nobody's business if adaman breaks down when he realizes melli doesn't remember him.
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ofgoodmenarchive · 3 years
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The first in a series of drabbles exploring my Blood Mage!Dorian AU.
Priceless Rewards
It was a beautiful day in the south and Dorian was terribly bored.
Alright, so maybe 'beautiful' was a stretch- but there was no rain, which by Ferelden standards counted for beauteous. Still the sky was dreary- even here in the Hinterlands, the so called 'Heart of the South'. Constant damp livened the vegetation- everything was so green- and so in his way! He couldn't walk two steps without having to wrestle nettles or vines from his robes.
  Why did I agree to this again?
They needed someone not overtly suspicious, he supposed- at least, not suspicious in a particular manner. Dorian could be suspected of many things; by his appearance alone he could be accused of blood magic and perhaps some dubious forms of necromancy. Why else adorn himself in human bones, how else to explain the flash of amber that sometimes possessed his eyes?
Altogether, Dorian ascertained he had to be wearing a whole person- and that excluded his staff, shaped from a spine and skull.
Not all the same person, mind you. Still not a welcoming sight to most.
Granted none were innocent in his eyes- all had threatened his survival in one way or other.
Besides- as long as no one suspected him of working with the Venatori, it didn't matter how he was judged. His employers knew that- and Dorian knew he needed gold and influence to maintain the lifestyle craved by his inner demon.
So there he was, traipsing through the south with a sack full of magical equipment, questing to study Rifts for a group of mad cultists.
  I don't know why they're bothering...
  What did exploding an old woman and her Chantry puppets really achieve?
From his viewpoint, it merely added complication- now there was this 'Herald of Andraste' for the fools to contend with.
  Why can't people just appreciate life for what it is?
He considered to himself with a laugh, kicking aside more vines.
Then again- if the world lacked such madmen, who would risk contracting Dorian for anything? An open practitioner of blood magic, long-disgraced from his house? Of course whenever someone sought him out, their motivations were not exactly chivalrous.
While pondering this he approached a Rift and began work. Recognising him as one of their own, the demons barely glanced.
Speaking of which- he was really in need of proper sustenance. Food and wine can fulfil Desire for only so long- especially while sleeping out in the cold wild and not luxurious sheets.
Technically his employers were to blame- anyone with sense was hiding and anyone who might be some fun was miserable. Not that he faulted the local populace for cowering from demons, Templars, mages, holes in reality and Maker knows what else.
  Well. Us, for one. We're here too.
It was gradually creating an issue. Desire's primary source of nourishment came from the desire of others. For Dorian, this meant fuelling himself through a man's desire towards him. When times were well and the populace cheerful, no matter his place he could easily find a willing participant.
However when times were tougher or in this case, when fear of magic and the unknown ran rampant, meeting someone receptive was trying.
  Actually...when you think about it-
  this whole thing is Halward's fault.
A phrase Dorian said to himself often, spitting his father's name like a curse.
Just as often, he would sense the demon admonish what it viewed as weakness.
  Well am I wrong?
  We wouldn't have met if it weren't for him.
Waiting for devices to conclude their measurements, he plopped onto the grass and reminisced.
Dorian had been just a boy, as belligerent a youth as could be. Or that's how his father would excuse it, he was sure.
Perhaps Halward even liked that about his son- sometimes. When he put it to use, when his belligerence somehow went hand-in-hand with achievement.
Not when it caused him to loudly reject their plans, state he'd rather die than live in denial of himself, then run off into the night.
  If he hadn't found me...everything might be different.
Unfortunately Halward ferreted him out somehow. What happened next was a tangle of memory and emotion- what he did recall, was standing in a circle of fire while a voice hissed through his mind.
  Small. Such a small morsel.
  What does the human think I can do with this?
A sensation like needles puncturing his skull. He'd cried out but couldn't move. The creature burrowed into his consciousness, processed and digested in seconds.
  Oh...?
  So much desire.
  Ambition.
  Potential.
His heart drummed, limbs shaken- but still he was incapable of movement. All he saw was flame and all he heard was this ravenous intruder.
  A small meal...but still a meal.
  I could take it all.
  That's what he wants me to do, you know.
Whether through his own discernment or whatever link was strung between them, he understood what the creature meant. Panic increasing, Dorian's thoughts raced, floundering to convey them-
  So he told you 'oh go eat this desire for me', and you're just going to do it?!
  Aren't you a Desire Demon?!
  Don't you want to experience life?!
  Instead you're just going to- going to-
  have a little snack and slink back into the Fade?!
  When we can both maximise our potential- together?!
The voice fell silent, pensive. Dorian stammered to solidify his point.
  Just- just don't change who I am- that's all I ask.
It had fulfilled that promise- for the most part. When Dorian awoke he'd been in his bed, unchanged in every way that mattered to him.
Turning around, a pair of void-black eyes peered back and he'd screamed.
That was the first encounter with his shadow. It was structured vaguely as he was, had his voice, developed as he did. Yet was just a walking silhouette- that only he could see.
Thankfully his demon's wanderings were on an inconsistent basis.
However it didn't take long for Halward- and everyone else, really- to note Dorian changed in every way they hadn't instructed.
Always a morbid child, fixated on necromancy and the dead. His bond with the demon increased this fixation tenfold. Before then, Dorian sometimes preserved deceased animals and toyed with the idea of reviving them with Fade-Wisps. Now it was an unseemly habit- which his family loathed. Cheerful, bumbling creatures of bone and treated flesh roamed the estate, causing minor chaos and disrupting social events.
Eventually his father screamed at him-
  “Dorian Pavus! Clear this undead menagerie or I will take care of them myself!”
  “I WILL NOT!” He'd shrieked back, tossing mice-bones across his bedroom.
Halward did take care of them himself- to the boy's heartbreak and despair. By that point he knew there was discussion of somehow altering him again- he ran and this time, was free.
  Feeling nostalgic?
Desire lured him to the present moment- sitting cross-legged on a nearby rock-pile, seeming amused in it's posture. His shadow- not nearly as intimidating as it had been to him years ago. Dorian smiled, sighing wistfully.
  “Something like that...I think it's more that I'm under-stimulated.”
His companion mirrored this need with a drawn-out exhale.
  “Yes, yes, I know...but when we're done with this, we'll be paid, and then we can head somewhere people aren't so actively terrified for their lives.”
It hummed lowly at this but issued no official complaint. Overall the creature was content in deferring to his judgement- Dorian had never steered them wrong. They were usually well fed, occupied by an exciting project and comfortable- this whole apocalypse business was an unplanned circumstance. Even Dorian hadn't known the Venatori's goals- merely sought to benefit.
The creature's focus appeared to divert- features unobscured enough to gather simple expression.
  “Hrm? Someone there?” He wondered aloud, glancing. Activity further along- a loose group of people trudging through under-brush, chatting casually though he couldn't hear. Dorian lingered at first but soon recognised the Inquisition symbol- a single, glaring eye.
  “Not the people we should try explaining ourselves to, I think.” He decided, chuckling in exasperation. Dorian scooped up his instruments and willed his form to move; vanishing with a flash of embers, he materialised behind some trees and knelt. One advantage to his demonic condition was an ability to veil himself- as long as he didn't do anything too attention-grabbing. Standing around in the open was therefore not viable, so he watched and waited.
Two humans, a dwarf and an elf. A human woman and the elf appeared to lead the pack, both bearing the Inquisition crest. The group ventured for the Rift and Dorian frowned, wondering for their sanity.
A dazzling beam shot outwards, leading his gaze to the elf's hand- connecting him and the Rift. Next there was an explosion and the party launched into combat, too confusing and swift for Dorian to properly assess. By the end all demons and disruptions were extinguished and the elf stood to one side, surveying the area.
Dorian couldn't make out terribly much- obvious details; the radiance emitted by his hand and the weapon used in lieu of a staff, a sword-hilt with light where there would be steel. Dark hair, pale, Dalish- judging by the blue patterns decorating his face. Much taller than elves inclined towards being- he loomed over his party and seemed awkwardly aware of it, stooping whenever one moved to speak with him.
Each person drifted to scout the clearings edge and Dorian sat perfectly still. None wandered his direction and the elf appeared disinterested, loitering where the Rift had been dispelled.
Until he abruptly turned and marched almost straight for Dorian. Stopping just as suddenly, he peered down at scorched earth left by the maleficar's retreat.
  Maker's breath!
  Don't tell me he's going to notice me because of that?!
He was near enough for Dorian to study closer- light scarring on serious features, frosty eyes that pierced everything they saw.
Intense- but attractive. Perhaps more-so because of that intensity.
For a few heartbeats he was certain he'd been spotted- but the elf swivelled away, muttering.
  “Something wrong?” The woman asked, her voice distinctly Nevarran.
  “Burnt ground. I thought it odd.” He answered, falling in pace with his fellows.
  “Why odd? It would be from a demon, no?”
  “I saw none there when we fought.” His speech was a little stilted- possibly more accustomed to his native tongue.
  “From the Rift, then. It hardly matters.”
Their discussion was swallowed by forest and Dorian sprang forth, unleashing his shock.
  “That's the Herald?!” He exclaimed, laughing in charmed bewilderment.
Feeling eyes upon him, Dorian faced his shadow- standing within the tree-cluster, watching it's host ponderously.
Without speech or much communication at all, he knew they thought as one.
Dorian tossed the bag of instruments to the ground and booted it aside, half-snarling, half-laughing.
  “To the void with this dirty work!” Meeting his companion's gaze, he smirked. “I just thought of a reward the Venatori can't possibly hand over to us!”
Vague contours of the creature's mouth parted, displaying pointed teeth in a grin.
  The Herald of Andraste.
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drsilverfish · 4 years
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Adam x Michael!Adam in 15x08 - The Integration of the Self and the Shadow
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Hey again folks,
Time to write a little something about the Jungian significance of the relationship between Adam and Michael!Adam in 15x08 and what that means for our heroes internal journeys towards The EndTM  (I’m specifically focussing on Dean and Cas in this meta, but Sam is our hero too, of course).
Just a quick refresher -  Jung, who was a psychoanalyst with a bit of a mystical bent, called the unconscious, the Shadow.
That means those elements of the personality or self which the conscious self is unaware of, or rejects. For Jung, that doesn’t mean the Shadow is inherently negative; it can contain much creative potential, when it is contacted and integrated by the conscious mind (often in dreams, guided through therapeutic work). However, when the Shadow is not recognised, it can negatively control a person, because then (repressed) it often leaks through, particularly in the form of projection - whereby rejected parts of the self are projected onto others and become the target of rage or other negative behaviour.  
“The shadow is a moral problem that challenges the whole ego-personality, for no one can become conscious of the shadow without considerable moral effort. To become conscious of it involves recognizing the dark aspects of the personality as present and real. This act is the essential condition for any kind of self-knowledge, and it therefore,. as a rule, meets with considerable resistance.”
Aion: Phenomenology of the Self published in The Portable Jung, edited by Joseph Campbell, Penguin Books, 1976, p. 145.
Integration with/ acknowledgement of the Shadow is key, for Jung, to healthy psychic growth and individuation. It’s not something you do once and then it’s done, either, although the first conscious work to encounter one’s Shadow is often particularly revelatory, but it’s a continuous process of self-reflection.
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Image credit: http://www.kerosene.digital/reviving-art-shadow-puppets/
I wrote a lot of Jungian themed meta in S14, where that motif was used particularly overtly in the writers’ room, in relation to Castiel’s encounter with the Shadow entity which guards The Empty (wearing his face) and Dean’s encounter with AU!Michael possessing him (wearing his face). 
Dean and Cas’ Shadow sides are multii-faceted (as are all our Shadow sides) and include, for example, Dean’s low self-esteem and fear of abandonment (triggered by his mother’s death when he was a kid, and the subsequent pressure his father put on him to be a carer to Sammy) and Castiel’s feelings of low self-esteem and unworthiness (triggered by his journey, over and over again, into doubt against Heaven, and his development of “feelings” for humanity/ The Winchesters/ Dean). We have seen them both struggle individually with these issues, and often be negatively controlled by them, and now these issues are also coming to a head between them, as they lie at the root of their present “break-up”. 
In the show’s queer subtext, Dean and Cas’ Shadow sides can also be understood to include their (closeted) queerness, and their anxiety about how powerfully they each love the other, yet fear the other does not love them back.   
There is a link below to my S14 meta masterpost, and if you scroll right down to the bottom, all the Jungian-themed meta is collected together in a post-script, for a deeper background dive:
https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/184628959784/drsilverfish-s14-meta-masterpost
So, what does this have to do with Adam and Michael in 15x08? 
We discover in 15x08 that the two of them are in a relationship - not a trapped vessel chained to a comet - but two beings who share Adam’s physical body, take turns at the wheel of conscious control, and have mutually supportive conversations with one another in their shared mind-body. They listen to each other and they trust each other. 
Dean is flabbergasted, after his own recent, tormented and coercive possession by AU!Michael (always a metaphor for his Shadow-side, including the repressive ghost of John Winchester in his head and, in subtext, his closeted queerness):
Dean: “Wait... Michael lets you talk? I mean he lets you... be?”
Adam: “Uh... yeah.... In the cage we came to an agreement. We only had each other.”
Of course, this is not the first time we, or Dean, have come across an angel-vessel relationship like this. In 12x10 Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets we were introduced to the relationship between the angel Benjamin and his human vessel Madrid:
CAS: “Benjamin is always very careful. Long ago, he found a powerfully devout vessel in Madrid, and her faith, it... she gave him everything – her trust and her body.” DEAN: “Wait. So Benjamin's a woman?” CAS: “Benjamin is an angel. His vessel is a woman. But it – it's – it's more than that. She's not just his vessel.” SAM: “She's... She's his friend.” CAS: “Yeah. Benjamin would never put her in unnecessary danger.”
Thanks to SuperWiki for the transcript:
http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/12.10_Lily_Sunder_Has_Some_Regrets_(transcript) 
I’ve always loved this exchange, because it emphasises the way in which human gender doesn’t apply to angels. We could say that angels are genderqueer and that Benjamin and Madrid’s relationship was a queer one, in the sense that it transgresses human and angelic “norms” (although, that also imposes a somewhat human frame of reference).    
It’s noticeable that both Adam AND Michael are better beings than they were before they got locked together in the Cage in Hell in 5x22 Swan Song. Adam seems less bratty, more reasoned, and Michael seems less arrogant, more willing to listen (to Adam, and hence to others). That is because their mutually supportive relationship is a metaphor for the integration of the self and the Shadow.
In a mirror for Dean and Cas, Adam and Michael!Adam have a conversation in 15x08 where they can clearly understand their respective Daddy issues:
Adam: “Maybe you don’t know your Dad as well as you think you do... Parents keep secrets, right? Does it hurt to ask the question?” 
Michael: “Yes, it would! It would mean that I doubt him, the good son, the favourite doubts his father!”
Adam: “Do you still care about that? After he left you in the Cage?”
Adam, of course, was himself kept as a secret by John Winchester from his other sons. And Michael (in a long-running parallel to Dean) here mirrors an earlier version of Dean, when he was “Daddy’s good little soldier”, as well as mirroring an earlier version of Cas, when he was Heaven’s obedient servant (in between his many rebellions and brain-washings).
Adam and Michael!Adam’s good communication and mutually supportive relationship, which, again, like Benjamin and Madrid, we can read as a “queer” relationship, by angel and human normative standards, is a positive sign-post for our heroes - both in terms of Dean and Cas separately being able to turn, and face, and thus integrate with their respective Shadows (they’ve already done significant work on this, but there is more to come) and in terms of Dean and Cas’ relationship (which Adam and Michael!Adam’s “queer” angel/ human relationship is also a mirror for). Dean and Cas will, this mirror tells us, eventually, be able to talk honestly, and supportively, with one another. 
But first, they must go on a symbolic underworld journey, back to Purgatory, which is again, a Jungian metaphor for the encounter between the conscious self and the Shadow.  
Michael!Adam says, “There’s the door!” as he opens up a rift to Purgatory and holds up the angel-binding handcuffs, requesting to be freed, in exchange. Which, provides us with a symbolic image suggesting that Dean and Cas’ return to Purgatory together will, despite its painful difficulties (which, as I’ve said in my 15x08 spell meta here:
https://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/189656694954/the-purgatory-spell-in-15x08-love-death-and-an
may involve a literal, or perhaps figurative, enounter with death) be a journey that will set them free (in terms of their encounters with their own Shadows and thus their ability to communicate better with one another):
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Jung even described the encounter with The Shadow as a narrow doorway:
“The shadow is a tight passage, a narrow door, whose painful constriction no one is spared who goes down to the deep well. But one must learn to know oneself in order to know who one is.”  
Carl G. Jung, The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, vol. 9, pt. 1 p. 21.
And we could thus understand the Leviathan blossom, in this reading, as symbolising the flower of self-knowlege that grows in the deep recesses of monster-land, aka the land of the unconscious. 
N.B - My usual disclaimer applies - reading the queer subtext in SPN does not promise an overt, unequivocal, “confetti, it’s a parade” queer romantic denouement, But, subtext IS part of narrative.
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Otherworld pt2
Here is pt1 for all of you who haven't read it yet.
https://return-of-a-space-cowboy.tumblr.com/post/188755044241/the-otherworld-pt1-i-became-absolutely-obsessed
Yet again based of of @yanderebloodlust s au
You woke up the next morning to the fire was now a few mere  embers you smiled as you could here the faint put that Abbaccio made in his sleep. You sat up and scratched him behind his ear which to your suprise he enjoyed.
"We need to get ready now" you said to him as ran upstairs and began to prepare for your return to the otherworld.
You quickly had a shower and put your clothes back on (they weren't that dirty anyway, so why waste water on cleaning them if they weren't that dirty). Then you went down stairs and quickly ate a muesli bar before making sure you were prepared.
🌌🌌🌌
You sighed as you looked as the door. You didn't want to go in there but you knew that if you wanted to get your parents back then you'd just have to toughen up and face your fears.
You held onto the pendent and closed your eyes. You had to do this, your parents were counting on you.
You got on your hands and knees as you turned the key. You could feel your body tremble in fear as you opened the door. You crawled through the tunnel slowly, your breath was heavy with anxiety as you looked towards the faint light that outlined the door ahead.
After a while you finally reached the end and pushed the door open. You examined the room for someone but nobody was there so you began to crawl out.
Completely unaware of the tall male that loomed over you until it too late.
You screamed as you were aggressiveness pulled up and held against them. You struggled as much as you could but they wouldn't let go.
"Doppio!?" You screamed out the name of you assumed captor.
"No (Y/n)... I'm not Doppio... The Doppio you knew is long gone" the voice similar to the one you heard last night replied. You were then pushed on to the lounge as a rat emerged from the door.
You turned around and saw the male. His long hair was a fuchsia pink with small balls of black lint intertwined in it, he was a lot taller then Doppio and a lot leaner then him as well. He also emerald green buttons held in with black thread and you couldn't forget that dark mulberry lipstick on his lips as well as the stitch like tattoos that were on his arms.
He gave a sinister smirk as he picked up the rat and pulled the key from it's mouth before placing it down again and locking the door. You were now trapped.
"What... What did you do to Doppio?" You ask the male.
"What did I do to Doppio? you really should be asking yourself that question" he retorted as he waltzed towards you until his face was only inches away from yours.
"He's merely another puppet of mine, but unlike the others he and I are directly connected" he explained to you. You tried to snatch the key out of his hand but he caught you with his spare hand before you could get it.
"I'm not going to fall for your rotten tricks again, unlike Doppio I have no tolerance for such things" he hissed as he pressed the key against his lips, his tongue slowly sliding along the teeth of the key before pushing it into his mouth and swollowing it.
You gave a disgusted expression at the male's action.
"That should hopefully keep you from your foolish antics" he said as he planted a kiss on your cheek which left a dark lipstick stain on it. He then tried to kiss you on the lips but you pushed him away.
"No get away from me!" You yelled.
"Oh why must you be cruel to me my dear..." He lulled as he twirled a few strands of your hair in his finger, which you now noticed that his hands was nothing but large needles mended together into a prosthetic device.
"I'm am not your dear! I refuse... I refuse to love a monster like you!" You screamed causing his eyebrow to twitch with irritation.
"I want my family back! I wish I had never met you or Doppio!" You continued before your head jerked backwards as he slammed his palm into your neck, his cold needle tips nearly puncturing the delicate flesh.
"Say that again, I dare you!" He hissed with a voice drenched in venom. You knew that the consequences for pushing your luck would be horrible, but a strange wave of confidence just gave you the urge to be daring.
"I W-I-S-H I H-A-D N-E-V-E-R M-E-T Y-O-U O-R D-O-P-P-I-O!" you said, making sure to painful lengthen out each letter and oh boy did he not like that.
The male was livid, he gritted his his before grabbing you by the hair, several strands getting lodged in the joints of his prosthetic hand. You screamed in pain as he dragged you through the house until he reached the upstairs mirror before throwing you into it. You closed your eyes as you braced yourself for impact with the glassy surface but instead you landed onto a cold concrete floor covered in water.
You looked up to find yourself in a room you had never been in before. It was a cold and damp concrete box of a room with a old kingsize bed that had chains draped down the sides.
"Another poor unfortunate soul taken by Diavolo" a feminine voice that made your hair's stand on end muttered. You turned your head from side to side to find the source.
"Where are you? Show yourself" you said.
"Apologize, we should have known better then to hide" another female's voice softly spoke as three women appeared out of nowhere. The first had long straight black hair, the second had short bobbed blonde hair and the third had wavy brunette hair, all of had black buttons to cover where their eyes had previously been.
"Who are you?" You asked them.
"We are no different to you... We all wished to have a better life and that's when we met him..." The black haired lady said.
"He lured us in with the promise of a fairy tale romance in exchange for our eyes" the brunette continued.
"And that was when his true colours would shine... A twisted being, a demon of sorts" the blonde said.
"However we can see that you did not fall for his trap" the black haired lady said as her ghostly hand touched your face.
"Yes I did... He used my family as the bait..." you muttered.
"He swollowed the key and any chance of my escape" you continued.
"No he hasn't" the brunette spoke.
"Unlike us you still have your eyes, as long as you have them you still have hope" the blonde explained.
"Why are my eyes so important? How do they give me anymore of a chance of escape then you?" You asked.
"Eyes are a window to the soul, without them you'll never find your way to the afterlife... Diavolo takes them to trap our souls in this world... To keep us here with him forever" the blonde said.
"If you think I can escape... Tell me how I can" you ask.
"Diavolo may not act or seem like the type to play games, but he is..." The black haired lady said.
"Perhaps if you make a high stakes deal with him, you could have a chance to beat him, then he'll have no choice but to let you and your family go"
"But be wry-" the blonde was saying before something grabbed you and pulled you out of the mirror world. You flailed as you saw a few strands of pink hair in the corner of your eye.
"I hope the girls treated you nicely as I'm sure that you'll get have to get along with them" who you assumed at this point was called Diavolo said.
"You... You... Tricked those poor women into giving up their lives just to break them..." You muttered.
"Yes, I'm willing to do many things for a precious soul..." he said.
"But you, yours is something else... You give me such an indescribable feeling. It's intoxicating and I crave more of it" he mused as you could feel him push you down, even if his eyes were buttons you could see that gleam of lust.
"What would you put on the line for me?" You asked.
"Everything" he said with little hesitation he leaned I kissed you. This time you didn't stop him, you wanted him to let his guard down.
Afterwards he got up and extended his hand to you. Of course you didn't want to take it but you knew that you had to. You grabbed his and winced in pain as a few needles dug into your palm and joints pinched your fingers. Blood started to trickle down your hand but you tried you best to act like it was nothing.
"You must be so hungry, not having any food for days... You're lucky that Doppio prepared something to eat before he left"  he said as he dragged you behind him around the house. You looked at all the rooms which had been painted and decorated exactly how you and your parents had wanted to when you finally settled in. It was a bittersweet thought knowing that you were going to be painting your room last week, but alas you had been as foolish as to come to this world in the first place. Childish curiosity was what carved you into the very sinister heart of this man.
You entered the kitchen so see piles upon piles of food covering the table and benches.
"After you left Doppio when into a distraught frenzy... He blindly did things with little to no thought, including this excessive amount of food" Diavolo said as he pushed you into a seat.
Your eyes darted rapidly around the room as you look for something amongst the mountain of food. You grabbed out a chocolate chip cookie and began to nibble at it.
"what's the matter (Y/n)?" Diavolo lulled as he noticed your morbid features as you nibbled at the cookie like a little mouse.
"I'm bored..." You mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. Now was your chance.
"Well what do you  do you want to do?" He asked in a sultry tone as he placed his hands on your shoulders.
"Maybe...a game perhaps?" You Replied. In response he let out a chuckle.
"I'm not much of a person for board game" he commented.
"No, no. I want something more adventurous and daring" you said as you looked at him from the conner of your eye. Your words bought a small smirk to his face.
"I want to take a risk" you added. Those buttons showed a faint glint.
"How risky are we talking about?" He asked as a smile formed on his lips.
"As risky as it can get" you replied as you gave him a slightly suductive look.
"The girls told you to do this... Didn't they" he whispered in your ear as he wrapped his hand around your neck again.
"Don't let them manipulate you into thinking that you can win against me" he continued.
"I'm not just going to let you keep me here locked up" you choked.
"Fine then, I'll give you a game to play" he sighed.
"I've hidden the eyes of my three previous lovers throughout his world, they are in plain sight but also not able to be seen through eyes such as yours. Once you have found them you must return to me and I'll give you your final task. If you win you and your family will return to your own world and I I'll surrender the girls eyes, but if I win... You'll be all mine and you'll be trapped in this world with me for eternity" he explained as let go of your neck and fixes a few strands of your hair.
"I will warn you, I'm not making this some fun, childish treasure hunt... It'll be a agonising and painstaking challenge, just to show how determined I am to keep you" he continued as he trailed his finger across a small section of your spine causing you to shuddered.
"Oh don't worry, you can give up at anytime. All you need to do is call out my name plea for me to be at your side" he whispered in a husky tone as he licked your earlobe.
"I'm not going to be calling out your name anytime soon!" you hissed as you stood up and turned behind only to find that he had disappeared without a trace.
"I'll win this game if it's the last thing I do Diavolo! You here me?!" You yelled before walking out the kitchen door and into the large and elegant backyard. You then sat on the bench and went over what Diavolo said.
"I've hidden the eyes of my three previous lovers throughout his world, they are in plain sight but also not able to be seen through eyes such as yours"
How were you able to find something that you couldn't see! It was ridiculous, it was mockery!
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thecarmillacurator · 5 years
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Marriage of Convenience - Carmilla Fic Review & Recommendation
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Title: Marriage of Convenience
Author: RunWithWolves on Ao3 and @ariabauer on Tumblr
https://archiveofourown.org/works/4016743/chapters/9027772
Word Count: 111K
Chapters: 20
Rating: T
Ship: Hollstein
Tags I’d Assign: #fake dating #fake engagement #mutual pining #best friends to lovers #angst #hurt/comfort #politics #hollstein
Trigger Warnings: abuse, childhood abuse, emotional abuse, mental abuse
Author’s Synopsis: Her scheduled weekly Thursday night video calls with her old college roommate are Carmilla's favourite part of the week. However this week's conversation veers off the rails when Carmilla tells Laura that if she doesn't get married soon, Carmilla's going to lose everything she's worked for.
Thankfully, her mother's provided a list of suitable candidates.
Readability: Prose reads smoothly. There are quite a few minor typos, but they’re not distracting and given that the author was writing this for us in the midst of doing one of her Carmilla-writing-a-thon sessions, who the heck cares?
Reviewer’s Plot Summary: Non-supernatural AU. The author’s synopsis doesn’t begin to cover the meatiness of the story. Carmilla is running for MP in a bi-election, and polls reflect that Carmilla’s youth, combined with her single status, have her perceived as being possibly too young and unstable for the position. Her mother, driven to make sure Carmilla is elected, insists she become temporarily engaged for public relation purposes. And it’s here Carmilla pulls the only maverick move she’s ever dared to where it comes to her mother: Rather than choosing from her mother’s “list,” she asks her former university classmate, former roommate, and still-best friend, investigative journalist Laura Hollis, to take the part before her mother can object. Together, the two end up on a parallel journey, individually wishing everything about their engagement were real, while at the same time, it becomes apparent to Laura that Carmilla is not simply influenced by her mother’s intensity, but that she’s actually been conditioned through decades of mental and emotional abuse (I would argue even physical abuse) into a disturbing, programmed-like obedience. Laura does her best to help Carmilla stand, and knows Carmilla needs her strength and support more than ever, but Carmilla has a history of leaving Laura whenever her mother’s influence demands it. Ultimately, Carmilla will have to decide if she has enough courage to finally say “no.”
Review:  This one hits deep. You want a Laura and Carmilla absolutely wrecked for each other and broken-hearted when first their own fears, and then later, Carmilla’s mother and her abuse, literally rip them apart?  Well, you have it here. You want a Laura who has courage, who is willing to fight for Carmilla? Well, you have it here.  You want to see good overcome evil, and chains get broken? Have a read. And yet, thankfully, there is mutual pining and fake-dating fluff throughout a majority of chapters so the weight of the main struggle doesn’t become too depressing.
The story is written in third person limited, alternating Carmilla/Laura POVs.
The Good: The story has substance and takes full advantage of the core characteristics of canon Laura and Carmilla’s backgrounds: Carmilla is the puppet daughter of a villainous, powerful, cunning mother. Laura is a truth-seeking, justice-demanding investigative reporter with the tenacity of a dog on a scent. Laura’s goodness and dorkiness (and love of sugar) endear her to Carmilla. Carmilla’s depth and quiet steadiness make her Laura’s rock. The main difference between canon Hollstein and this version of them, though? Laura for once is willing to put Carm above her need to out the truth and right the wrongs. And (Ahem, glaring at you, canon-Laura Hollis), it still works out in the end!
The romance unfolding between these two feels more sweeping than we usually receive in a Hollstein fic. I think a few things accomplish this. First, setting this against the stretch of a political campaign adds a certain built-in sense of time and weight. Second, more of their romance is conveyed and developed through actions than through the simple narration of their private feelings. (The first being a significantly stronger writing style, and one I’m perpetually envious of.) The date Laura sets up for Carmilla, the melt-down disaster that happens at the dress shop, Carmilla flooding the newpaper’s lobby with cupcakes or buying them greasy burgers from their old college favorite burger joint, the lightning storms… they all speak volumes without having to rely on internals. And, in turn, they result in evocative physical reactions by the characters and amplify the particular relationship-aspect being highlighted at the time, either through using mirroring metaphors or contrasting metaphors.
In that same vein, locations and things have weight given to them as well, rather than being simply included as background detail. This isn’t a fake-dating plot that could take place just anywhere, or which could theoretically be limited to a few typical, hum-drum locations. The locations and weather (the lake, the city, the newspaper lobby, the dress shop, the frozen river, the cafe, etc.), the literal atmosphere (Fall, stormy nights, crisp days, snowflakes, a chilly sunset seen through the glass windows of a broken down boathouse), and objects (a black swan paddle boat, the ring(s), Sir Bearington, cue cards), all are presented with vivid imagery and matter as to why the characters respond a certain way in that moment. All of this adds a definite theatrical/visual dimension to the story. That is great writing.
The Concrit:  Perry, LaF, Kirsc… They feel a little like throw-aways. That’s not too big of a deal, since that is already the case in many Hollstein fics. But, I would have appreciated a bit more of them mattering in small ways. Matska didn’t have a huge word-count, and yet, her presence was *felt* in the same way the setting, items, and atmosphere mattered to the plot: Her absence would have changed the story. And even Danny, though she only had one scene and a minor role in it, mattered in a tangible, if still small way. The other three, not so much (despite the whole period-table analogy LaF tried to share with Laura). 
Secondly... While I’m not sure how accurate Carmilla’s (verbal) conditioned responses are, this is fan fiction and I don’t think the author was making any claims to be an expert. (And, as it went, it definitely worked well as a plot-device to flag for the reader when Carmilla was in one of her regressive episodes.) But that being said, it was a disconnect for me how normal-functioning Carmilla was in the absence of (or triggering by) her mother. Yes, we’re told she had some self-worth issues, but aside from being told that, really, she seemed just fine.
Finally, I would enjoy an epilogue. Although, as written, it definitely stands on its own without one. 
NEXT IN THE QUE: We’re still on the fake dating / fake relationship au binge for the next two weeks!
Remember: If you enjoy the stories I review and recommend-  whether you’ve only just read them because of my reviews or you’ve read them in the past and these rec’s remind you of them- stop by the authors and send them some love. They’ve given a tremendous amount of their time, effort, and passion to provide us with high-quality, free entertainment that keeps Carmilla alive for us. Let’s thank them. You don’t even have to mention this blog: JUST LOVE ON THEM!
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