#Body swap Au

[percivore]

My brain is so severely rotted by kidlaw at this point I cannot think of ANYTHING else 🌷🐯

[radioapple-tradingcards]

RA TC List pt1

Radioapple TC Confirmed: Part 1

○Fiendish Fortune ○Wicked Shadow ○The Hitman Chronicles🔞 ○My Deer Nanny ○Witchcraft & Wizardry ○Hazbinvania ○Echoes of Eden ○Piercing AU 🔞 ○Fairy AU ○Theoxenia And more on the way!

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[off-mozzarella]

(From the body swap AU)

Hii! I'm very happy to see that my body swap comic was so well received, so here's a little something as a thanks for all the support <3

I'm excited to keep sharing my drawings, I hope you like what I make!

[nevertheless-moving]

thinking fondly of that star wars body swap au where 3/4 of the protagonists are experiencing relatively standard body swap shenanigans: bewildering friends and confounding authority figures, learning about each other and themselves, going outside their comfort zones. Meanwhile Cody’s just kindof writhing in eldritch horror inside of Anakin’s force-stitched-together-meatsuit.

Anakin (as Padme): “Man I can’t believe that Senator actually called me sweetheart, I can’t believe how patronizing these men are.”

Cody (as Anakin): [Scratching at his arm] “Yeah, that’s great. Uh, hey, quick question—why does my shadow keep turning into a death head mask?”

Anakin: “Huh? Oh, hey! Would you like at that! I haven’t looked at my shadow in years! It’s—it’s totally normal! I mean except for how it’s Padme—”

Cody: “This is—your shadow just always—does it ever...I mean when you’re around other people”

Anakin: [sucks in his breath through his teeth] “Did it kill someone else’s shadow? I hate when that happens”

Cody: [scratches arm harder, eyelid twitching] “This...happens often? What—why—”

Anakin: “I try not to think about it, ha! Anyway, have you tried smoothies since—[voice fades into high pitched static noise, distant sound of respirator breathing]

Cody: [scratches arm harder] (muttering under his breath): “don’t think about it. don’t think about it.”

Obi-Wan (as Cody): “There you two are—oh Anakin—I mean Cody, you’re bleeding! What happened?”

Cody: “I...misjudged the strength of the mech arm.”

Anakin: [gives thumbs up]

[help-itrappedmyself]

Changes in Perspective (Dead on Main AU) Masterpost

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 AO3

[emuartworks]

Just a little 5 a.m. doodle of this scene from @sonic-takeover 🥺 MY LITTLE GAYS AAAGH

[pillowspace]

spoiler alert: he hasn't yet

[pemizart]

Forgot about this but i remember being weirded out when drawing Logan smiling like that

since this is getting attention here's my kofi

[silver-the-pendejo]

Fate’s Substitution Body Swap Soulmates AU Pokemon Trainer!Reader (Pokemon) x Time (Linked Universe) Reader uses She/Her pronouns Dedicated to: @nalubigtnt (sorry not sorry for Warrior´s) Words: 4840

The first time Y/N swapped with her soulmate. She was six so she knew it would happen at some point because of something her parents had explained to her just before her birthday. That didn’t mean that she was prepared for it when it was time.

One moment, she was in her room in her home in Saffron City, staring at the purple floating pokemon in front of her. It was doing tricks and it could talk in her mind, but for some reason, it wouldn’t tell her their name.

The next, she woke up in a forest, with clothes that felt and looked weird to her, filled with confusion she stared, until a girl with bright green hair approached her, looking confused. ”Link are you alright?”

Before Y/N could even think about answering, she was back in her body, the pokemon now nestled in her lap, looking at her with worry and with a hint of something else in their game, something Y/N couldn’t understand at her age.

“That was your soulbond Hoshi”

By the time she was ten, Y/N had grown accustomed to body-swapping with Link.

The swaps were random—sometimes months apart, sometimes happening multiple times in the same week. They never lasted more than a few hours, but she always learned something new.

She knew Link lived in a place called Kokiri Forest, where there were no adults—something she found weird but chalked up to different cultures. She knew he was treated strangely by the other Kokiri, though she didn’t understand why. And she knew, with certainty, that he was kind.

When she received her first Pokémon—a Charmander from Professor Oak—she couldn’t wait for the next swap so Link could see her Charmander when he was on her body. She didn’t have to wait long.

It happened during training. One moment, she was in Pallet Town, commanding Charmander to use Ember to try and knock out a Nidoran so she could add it to her team. The next, she was standing in the middle of Kokiri Forest and she was staring at Link’s bullies.

Mido was sneering, shoving Link—her—back. Before she could think, she lunged at him, she managed to get one solid punch in before she was yanked back into her own body. She landed on the dirt with a startled yelp, dazed and breathless.

Her cousin found her moments later, concerned, while his best friend (boyfriend? Y/n could never tell with them) went to get an adult. They thought she had been attacked by a wild Pokémon before she was able to capture it. She didn’t correct them.

Moving to Alola when she was twelve everything changed—new Pokémon, new people, and a whole new world of battling, and getting accustomed to Heahea City as her new home— but the swaps never stopped.

At first, she was worried. Would being on an island so far from Kanto change things? Would the distance between them affect the swaps? It didn’t. If anything, the swaps seemed to grow more vivid.

One day, she was in Melemele Island’s forests, training the Popplio she had caught a few days ago near a bubbling brook. The next, she was standing in the middle of a burning mountain, feeling like she was going to pass out, barely being able to grip Link’s sword.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, she felt that familiar tug in her chest. Y/N closed her eyes, and the world around her swirled before fading into darkness.

After that incident, the swap’s stopped for what Y/N feelt like it was a very long time.

Weeks passed. Then months. Y/N waited for the familiar tug in her chest, but it never came.

At first, she thought it was just another random gap—swaps had always been unpredictable. But as the weeks stretched into nearly a year, unease settled in her gut. Has something happened to Link? Has the bond between them broken?

Mew, ever watchful, seemed to sense her worries. They would often hover close, brushing against her cheek with an affectionate coo whenever she stared too long at the horizon, lost in thought.

"Do you think he's okay?" Y/N asked one evening, absently scratching the scales on Charmeleon's head. Her starter grumbled in contentment, oblivious to her turmoil.

Mew didn't answer right away. Instead, they twirled in the air before settling onto her shoulder. He 's strong Hoshi. If something happened, you’d feel it.

Y/N wanted to believe that, but doubt gnawed at her. If Link was fine, then why had the swaps stopped?

She tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing instead on travelling through Alola. She trained hard, battled tougher opponents, and even caught a Popplio, Rockruff and a Gastly that seemed to adore her. She threw herself into the island challenges, determined to earn her place as the new champion. But the absence of the swaps lingered like an unspoken weight in the back of her mind.

It wasn’t until her fourteenth birthday that it happened again.

She was on Ula’ula Island, climbing the rugged cliffs leading to the observatory, when it hit her—an overwhelming pull that nearly knocked her off balance. Her breath caught in her throat. It was happening.

Darkness swallowed her vision, and when she opened her eyes, she was somewhere else entirely.

It was night. Cold. Rain pelted her skin, and the scent of damp earth filled her nose. The weight on her back was different—heavier. Her fingers clenched around something solid, a hilt. A sword.

She barely had time to register anything before something huge loomed in front of her.

A monster.

She had seen plenty of Pokémon battles before—had faced raging Incineroar and territorial Arcanine—but this was different. The creature in front of her wasn’t a Pokémon. It was something else. Its red eyes glowed in the darkness, and its jagged teeth gnashed as it lunged.

Pain exploded through her side as she was sent flying, crashing into the mud. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and for a terrifying second, she thought she wouldn’t be able to get up.

She needed to move. She needed to fight.

But she wasn’t Link. She didn’t know how.

The monster reared back, ready to strike again.

And then—

Darkness.

When Y/N woke up, she was back in her own body, sprawled on the damp ground of Ula’ula Island. Mew hovered over her, their eyes wide with something she had never seen before. Fear.

She pushed herself up, breathing hard. The pain was gone. Her hands were empty. But the feeling lingered.

The swaps were back.

And something was very, very wrong.

Y/N spent the next few days recovering from the shock of the swap’s sudden return. Even with Mew’s reassurance, a deep unease settled in her chest. Link had been fighting something—something monstrous. And she had been completely helpless in his place.

The swaps had always been unpredictable, but this? This was different. This was dangerous.

Y/N threw herself into training harder than ever before. She had always been strong—determined—but now, it felt like she was racing against something she couldn’t name. Her Pokémon sensed the shift in her, responding to her urgency with equal determination. Charmeleon’s flames burned hotter, Lycanroc pushed itself to its limits, and even Magykarp, who was the most recent addition to her team and quickly evolved into a Gyarados, watched her with an almost knowing gaze.

But the swaps didn’t return.

Days turned into weeks. Then months. And again, the connection went silent.

The absence gnawed at her. She was sixteen now—older, stronger, more experienced—but none of that mattered if she couldn’t reach Link. What had happened? Had he been injured? Had he… died?

She refused to believe that. She would have felt it, wouldn’t she? The bond between them had been constant for years, even if it was unpredictable. If it had shattered completely, wouldn’t she have known?

Mew stayed close, never straying far from her side. Whenever Y/N found herself lost in thought, staring at the sky or tracing the edge of her Poké Balls absentmindedly, Mew would nuzzle against her, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

“You’re worried,” she murmured one evening, sitting on the shore of Heahea City’s beach, watching the sunset paint the waves in hues of gold and crimson. Mew trilled softly, floating in lazy circles around her.

He’s strong, Hoshi.

Y/N exhaled. “I hope you’re right.”

Her fifteenth birthday came and went without a swap. By then, she had accepted—reluctantly—that she might never swap again. Maybe Link had broken free from whatever had been holding him back. Maybe he had forgotten about her. Maybe he didn’t need her anymore.

The thought stung more than she wanted to admit.

But just as she started to believe the swaps were gone for good, it happened again.

She was in the middle of a battle on Poni Island, commanding Gyarados against a particularly stubborn Flygon that belonged to another trainer, when she felt it—the familiar pull deep in her chest. Her breath hitched. No, not now—

Darkness.

Cold.

A rush of wind, howling like a beast.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she wasn’t on Poni Island anymore. The lush grass, the battle, the sound of her Pokémon—all of it was gone. Instead, she was kneeling in the middle of a ruined field.

The air smelled of ash. The sky churned with heavy, dark clouds, blotting out the stars. Rain poured in sheets, soaking her to the bone. The weight on her back was different—heavy, unfamiliar.And suddenly a burn in her hand, making her throw to the ground the sword that Link had been holding.

The sword’s handle was burning in red now, she could tell that before, when Link was using it, it didn’t hurt him, but why did it hurt her now? She needed something to defend herself. Y/N stared at the sword lying in the mud, her hand still stinging from the burn. The blade gleamed even in the dim, rain-soaked landscape, but she didn’t dare reach for it again. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as the cold sank into her bones, the weight of Link’s body—his injuries, his exhaustion—crashing down on her all at once.

This wasn’t just any swap.

She had been forced into Link’s body, in the middle of a battle, again. Lightning crackled through the sky, illuminating the nightmare in front of her. It was massive, towering over her with eyes like burning coals, its grotesque form shifting in the darkness. Its claws, long and jagged, dug into the earth as it took a step forward, its guttural snarl vibrating through the ground.

It was looking at her.

Y/N’s instincts screamed at her to run—but Link’s body was sluggish, aching. She knew she couldn’t escape. She needed a weapon, anything—but the sword was still at her feet, and she couldn’t wield it. It had hurt her.

She barely had time to brace before the monster lunged.

Y/N threw herself to the side, barely avoiding the swipe of its claws. Pain lanced through her shoulder as she hit the ground, but she forced herself up, staggering back. Her mind raced. What could she do?

Her eyes darted around, searching for an escape, but there was nothing—just open space and the looming threat before her. She had no choice.

Teeth gritted, she raised her hands in front of her. “Please work—”

Before she could even try to call on a move like she would in a Pokémon battle, the monster struck again.

And then—

Darkness.

She was back.

Her vision swam. The sound of the battle disappeared, replaced by the crashing waves of Poni Island’s shore. She staggered, nearly collapsing as her body adjusted. She was herself again. Her Gyarados roared in concern, moving closer as she swayed on her feet. The trainer she had been battling—some guy from Hoenn—looked at her in alarm.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

She wasn’t. Because she had felt it. The moment she had swapped back, she had felt the pain—the exhaustion—the sheer desperation Link had been experiencing before she had arrived in his place.

He was losing.

And she had left him there.

Her stomach twisted violently, nausea rising in her throat. She pressed a shaking hand against her chest, trying to steady her breathing, trying to process what had just happened.

The words felt small. Hollow.

The other trainer was still staring, concern clear on his face. “That… didn’t look like just battle exhaustion. Are you sure—?”

“I forfeit.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse, her head spinning. She turned without another word, her heart pounding in her ears.

She needed to get out of here. She needed to think. Because for the first time since she had started swapping with Link— She was terrified of what might happen next.

The swaps had become a lot more irregular after that.

One moment, weeks would go by without a single change. Next, she’d be yanked into Link’s body, sometimes for just a few seconds, sometimes for hours, when she spent hours in his body, she would make little things, messages for him, trying to cheer him up, knowing that the swaps could go for a while without happening again.

The times she could see how Link looked, she saw scar’s always more and more scars, especially one’s that looked like tattoo’s in the right side of his face, she couldn’t open that eye and it made her fear what had happen to him.

Years passd again.

Y/N had grown stronger, both as a trainer and as a person. She had become the Champion of the Alola League, all of her pokemon evolving into their final forms, fought countless battles, and even traveled back to Kanto for a while, challenging the Elite Four there. She met new trainers, forged new rivalries, built a name for herself as a famous trainer. Mew watched her with silent concern, floating at her side as she paced her room in Heahea City one night, fists clenched.

"You’re afraid Hoshi" they murmured in her mind.

Y/N exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "Of course I am."

"Of losing him?"She swallowed hard, staring out the window at the moonlit ocean. The waves rolled in a rhythmic dance, calm and indifferent to the storm in her chest.

“…I don’t even know if he’s still alive,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I haven’t swapped in months.”

Mew drifted closer, curling themselves around her neck and nuzzling into her check, trying to comfort her. They didn’t offer empty reassurances this time. Instead, they just stayed, watching her with those endless, knowing eyes.

Y/N sighed, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. “If he is alive, he must be so alone.” The thought made her stomach twist. She had spent years learning how to fight, how to protect herself and others, yet when it mattered most—when Link had needed her—she had been powerless.

It was supposed to be a simple trip back to her home region.

Y/N had been following rumors— whispers of strange things happening near Lavender Town back (as if that part of Kanto wasn’t creepy already), whispers of strange Pokémon sightings and other things. She had tracked the source to a set of ruins, crumbling with age, yet thrumming with a power that made the air hum.

And then—

The ground beneath her feet vanished.

One moment, she was stepping forward, Mew floating just above her shoulder. The next, the world twisted, light bending in a way that made her stomach lurch. Her Poké Balls rattled at her side as the air was yanked from her lungs.

She was falling.

But not in the way one falls down a cliff, or into water. No—this was different. It was like being pulled through the fabric of the world itself, yanked from one reality to another.

And then, she landed.

Gasping, Y/N pushed herself up, her heart racing as she surveyed her new surroundings. The sky above was not the one she knew. Instead, it was a swirl of unsettling colors, and she felt an ominous presence nearby.

Monstrous creatures, twisted and ghastly, emerged from the shadows, their eyes glowing with malevolence. They growled, revealing sharp teeth, and the air filled with their menacing snarls.

Y/N’s instinct kicked in. “Gyarados! Hyper Beam!”

With a furious roar, her massive sea serpent emerged, coiling protectively around her. Energy crackled in his mouth as he unleashed a devastating blast, sending one of the beasts flying.

“Lycanroc, Stone Edge!” she commanded, her voice steady despite the chaos. Her wolf-like Pokémon leaped forward, shards of rock forming in the air before launching toward the monstrous creatures. One struck true, causing a beast to stagger back with a screech.

But more kept coming, and the odds were against them.

“Charizard—!” she began, but a new voice interrupted her.

“Stay behind me!”

A shadow moved, faster than anything she had seen before. A blur of green and steel. A sword flashed, cutting through one of the creatures with practiced precision. Another strike. Another enemy down. “Who are you?” Y/N managed to ask, still in awe of the figure fighting beside her.

“Just a traveler,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the enemies. “But I’ll help you. We can’t let them overwhelm us!”

Suddenly, other figures joined the fray, each one wielding unique weapons and skills. The one dressed in red swung a strange looking weapon, taking down several creatures with one hit. Another one, dressed in blue, launched arrows with uncanny accuracy, picking off enemies from a distance. The fight continues for some more minutes, ending in most of the monster’s dead, dark blood coming out from most of them and both her and the group of strange looking travellers covered in blood. Y/N furrowed at that, taking the blood of her Pokemon was probably not going to be fun.

It was night time now, Y/N had decided to stay and camp with the group, seeing no other options as she was now in a strange land. Y/N sat near the flickering campfire, the warmth a stark contrast to the chill creeping through the night. Her Pokémon nestled close, Gyarados curled protectively around her, while Mew floated overhead, casting a curious gaze at the strangers who had fought beside her.

The group had gathered around the fire, their weapons resting against the nearby trees. Y/N observed them closely, they exchanged stories, laughter breaking through the remnants of tension from the earlier battle. One of them, the one that had what looked to be very heavy armor, something in him was familiar to her, but she couldn’t understand why the one who had fought so valiantly by her side. His blonde hair glinted in the firelight, and his blue eyes sparkled with a mix of relief and determination. “You fought well,” he said, a smile breaking through his serious demeanor. “I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks. “But it wasn’t much, it’s just the normal about leading my Pokemon.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s still impressive, you manage to keep your cool while giving them instructions against the monsters.” he shrugged, though she could see the pride in his expression. “I’m Time, by the way. And these are my comrades.”

The week’s that followed were unlike anything Y/N had ever experienced. Traveling with the Chain was both exhilarating and exhausting. They moved swiftly, covering vast stretches of terrain, their goal always shifting as new threats emerged.

Y/N quickly realized that the world she had fallen into—Hyrule—was nothing like Kanto or Alola. There were no Poké Balls, no Pokémon Centers, and certainly no friendly professors handing out starters to young trainers. Battles here were brutal, fought with steel and magic rather than strategy and type advantages.

She trained alongside the others, sparring with Warriors who had lived through more battles than she could count. Time was the one who took a special interest in her training. He showed her how to hold a sword properly, how to block and dodge, and how to anticipate an enemy’s movements.

But despite his guidance, Y/N struggled. She wasn’t made to hold a sword. Her body wasn’t trained for this. Every swing of the sword left her muscles aching, every battle left her winded in ways a Pokémon battle never had. She had always commanded from the sidelines—never been the one in the fight herself.

And yet, she refused to give up.

Time was patient but firm. “You’re not weak,” he told her after one particularly rough sparring session. “You just don’t know how to use your strength yet.”

She huffed, wiping sweat from her brow. “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve been doing this your whole life.”

His expression darkened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. “Not always.”

There was something familiar about him—something that nagged at her, but she couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t until one evening, when they had set up camp near a quiet lake, that she finally got some answers.

She sat by the water’s edge, staring at her reflection. The moonlight cast a silver glow over the rippling surface, and Mew floated beside her, their tail flicking lazily.

“You’re thinking about him again Hoshi”

Y/N sighed. “Of course I am.”

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small wooden figurine from her pocket, it was one of the few thing’s Link had made for her during some of their longer swaps and she cherished it with all her heart

She clenched the figurine tightly. “I need to find him, Mew. I need to know if he’s okay. It has been far to long since the last swap”

Mew floated closer, their large blue eyes filled with quiet understanding. “You miss him.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers tracing the smooth edges of the figurine. It was small, carved with precision and care—just like everything Link did. She could still remember the night she found it on her nightstand, and the note that was at it’s side

“Something to remember me by,”

Mew’s tail flicked, brushing against her arm. “Do you think he’s still waiting for you?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if he’s okay.”

Before, no matter how long it took between swaps, she had always felt something—a lingering presence in the back of her mind, a warmth that told her Link was still out there, still connected to her. But ever since she had arrived in this world, that presence had gone silent.

And it terrified her.

A rustle behind her made her turn. Time stood at the edge of the clearing, watching her with that unreadable gaze of his. She had come to know it well—the way he studied her, as if he knew something she didn’t, as if he were constantly searching for answers just as much as she was.

Y/N quickly wiped at her eyes, shoving the figurine back into her pocket. “Couldn’t sleep?” Y/N let out a small, tired laugh, her fingers still curled around the figurine in her pocket. “I guess I just needed some alone time.” She glanced toward the sky, where stars glittered like scattered embers. “Everything’s been… a lot.”

Time nodded, stepping beside her. He didn’t say anything at first, simply staring out at the lake. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that came with understanding.

Mew hovered nearby, watching him carefully, their tail twitching.

Y/N finally exhaled. “I don’t belong here.”

Time’s eyes flicked toward her. “You’ve held your own so far.”

She scoffed. “Barely. I can’t swing a sword without tripping over my own feet, I don’t have magic, I don’t have a fairy—” She broke off, then shook her head. “I don’t have anything that makes me useful here.”

Time was quiet for a long moment before he finally said, “You have something no one else does.”

Y/N frowned. “And what’s that?”

His gaze shifted to Mew. “Them. And the world you came from.”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“Most of us only know war,” Time continued, his voice calm but firm. “Battles, monsters, survival. But you? You come from a world where people and creatures fight together, where battles don’t always end in blood.” He tilted his head slightly. “That’s rare.”

Y/N hesitated, her grip loosening on the figurine. “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

Time huffed out a quiet chuckle. “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

Y/N turned to him, curiosity piqued. “Yeah?”

He nodded, eyes distant. “Someone stubborn. Someone who never gave up, even when they felt lost.” He hesitated, then added, “Someone who always found their way back.”

Something in the way he said it made her stomach twist. There was an ache in his voice, something that felt too familiar.

She looked at him then—really looked. The strong, steady stance. The way he carried himself like someone who had seen too much, lost too much.

And yet… something in his expression, in his presence, tugged at something deep within her.

The pieces weren’t fitting together, but she could feel them shifting, trying to.

“Who was it?” she finally asked, her voice quiet.

Time was silent for a long moment. Then, carefully, he reached into the pouch at his belt and pulled something out.

A small wooden figurine.

Identical to the one in her pocket.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

Her hand moved before she could stop herself, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her own. The two carvings were nearly identical, save for a few small details—one slightly more worn than the other, both made with the same careful hands.

Her heart pounded.

No. No, that wasn’t possible.

Her throat felt tight. “Where did you get that?”

Time turned the figurine over in his hands, his thumb brushing over its edges. His next words were soft—softer than she had ever heard from him before.

“Something to remember me by.”The world tilted.

It couldn’t be.

And yet—

The scar on his face (how could she be so blind?). The way he always seemed to know her, even when she was sure she had never met him before. The way he had taken an immediate, careful interest in her training. The way he carried himself, so familiar, so steady—

The warmth she had once felt in the back of her mind.

Y/N’s fingers curled around her figurine, her vision blurring. “No.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “That’s not— You’re not—” Mew floated closer, their tail curling around Y/N’s wrist as if to steady her. Even they were silent, as if they, too, didn’t know what to say.

Time—Link—watched her carefully. He wasn’t reaching for her, wasn’t forcing her to believe him. He was just waiting.

Waiting for her to catch up.

Y/N shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. That can’t make sense.”

Time’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. “I know.” His voice was quiet. “It never did.”

Her breath was shaky as she ran a hand through her hair, her mind racing. “How long?” He exhaled slowly. “Since the last swap?” He hesitated, then finally answered, “Over a decade.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop. “Ten years?”

Time nodded once, his gaze never leaving hers.

She shook her head. “No. No, it hasn’t been that long. Maybe a few months, at most—maybe a year, but not ten.”

And yet—

She looked at him again, really looked at him.

He wasn’t lying.

Her heart pounded, her thoughts spiraling. Time moved differently between worlds—she had always known that. Some swaps had lasted days, others only minutes. But this—this was something else entirely.

She had lost ten years.

Ten years where he had been growing up, fighting, surviving. Ten years where he had been alone.

And she had never known.

“I tried to force the swaps” Time admitted after a moment. His voice was softer now, rough around the edges. “For a while, I thought something happened to you.” His gaze flickered to Mew. “But you’re here. And you’re still you.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tight. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

Time’s lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn’t quite know how. “That makes two of us.”

The silence between them was thick—heavy with unspoken words, with all the lost time they couldn’t get back.

Y/N’s fingers curled around the figurine in her palm. He had kept his. All this time.

Time’s expression softened, and for the first time, she saw something familiar in his face. The ghost of the boy she had known.

His next words were quiet, almost like a promise.

“You never did.”

Nalu you better like this smhmh Ngl i was tired asf writing this so consistency maybe shit anyways ask and request open, ima go drown now byeeee

LU Masterlist

[brucewaynehater101]

I remember this one shot where tim & bruce swaps bodies while bruce is as batman in some jla meeting. Tim just continues it perfectly.

This is the body swap au, btw

Anyways, would Tim do a good job as Batman?. I think if Tim sees the swap as something brief he would do his best. (But we all make them swap long enough to Tim having enough time for long term plans) so if Tim gaslights himself into believing they would swap back after some weeks, he would do better. He thinks he can do better as a way to show he can be Batman without being a evil one(he's fighting the gun Batman allegations).

Still, it would be funny that in his "I'm gonna fix Bruce's life while am here plan".

Tim acts less as a classic moody batman while in the atalaya. Gives more and kind advice. He talks with Superman about his situation with Kon. He helps Flash with his eating schedule. He helps Arthur with whatever is going on in Atlantis. He shuts off all of the surveillance on Bruce's coworkers, just to mess with Bruce.

He just avoids Martian tho.

Then, it's been a month since the swap. They don't seem to find any way back. Tim cannot lie to himself anymore and the Batman duties are becoming way too much.

Then Bruce dies in Tim's body.

Tim never wanted to be Batman, neither to be like Bruce. But he messed Tim up. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne. And now he is living his nightmare, every day since Bruce death, Tim has to wake up and avoid his reflection. Tim never wanted to be like Bruce Wayne and now everyone call him the wrong name. Bruce died and Tim does what he does best, he sacrifices. He ditchs his identity any hope of being Tim Drake, so Batman can rise once again.

.

.

(The last paragraph is a little darker end of the version of this au where Bruce dies in Tim's body. I happily would read some of your ideas where none of them dies tho. There's just so many aspects os this au we can develop more, also we need more bruce pov of this).

Here is the post being referenced!

[I'm sorry to say that 90% of Bruce POV's are just gonna be him suffering.... I can try, though. Put up a valiant effort]

Let's really pack in that angst, shall we?

For this AU, Tim has been compared to Bruce so many fucking times.

At first, despite his shaky relationship with the grieving man, he took it as a compliment. He was like his hero Batman!

It started with Alfred fondly tutting over Tim's capacity to neglect self care duties and his shared interests. The older man would sarcastically ask Tim if he was following Bruce's footsteps of being a loner who sits in his basement all day (just teasing and joking and slight reprimanding).

Then there were the heroes that remarked on Robin's uncanny ability to do the batglare or translate Bruce's grunts.

When Steph and Tim got into arguments (and Tim was being a grade A asshole), Steph would compare Tim's emotional incapability and distrust with Batman's.

Dick, in the heat of the moment, has yelled at Tim to stop acting like Bruce (they got ice cream afterwards as an apology).

Jason has tsked and grumbled and shouted about Tim being molded into Bruce's shape/image.

Even Babs has made a comment or two.

While they didn't mean to hurt Tim (unless they were fighting [for which they would both usually make up and apologize]), it caused a small dig and insecurity to Tim's own self-image.

He wanted Bruce to be proud of him.

Tim wanted to be nothing like Bruce.

Then you add on the 16th birthday, Bruce's shit with Steph, how Bruce treats his other kids, other canon events, gun Batman, and Tim losing the rose-colored glasses of childhood?

Yeah. Tim doesn't want to be Bruce.

It seems fitting, after stealing Robin, that he'd get stuck under the name of the man he grew to see as a warning.

It figures that his choice in saving Batman lead to Tim's loss of self.

[Hmm... I can do another post chatting about Bruce or no one dying if you would like.... Or someone else dying before the truth comes out :)]

[bellatheinkdemon]

(⁠─⁠.⁠─⁠|⁠|)

[hatsbuckets]

Body Swap AU - Ghost x Soap

Body Swap AU Based off of this post Pairing: Ghost x Soap (?) Warnings: None WC: Short

a/n soap is in Ghost's body; Ghost is in Kyle's in this one

Price dismissed them to the showers. They smelled, and there was no way they were figuring this out now. So sure, a shower made sense.

Soap’s boots thudded heavily against the locker room tiles, the sound louder than he was used to. Everything about Ghost’s body felt bigger, heavier, more deliberate. His balance was off, his arms swung too wide, and he could barely squeeze between the benches without bumping into something.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered to himself, his deep, unfamiliar voice echoing back at him. “How do you not knock over walls?”

Better yet, how'd he sneak around? Moving like a shadow on missions? Acting like he wasn't larger than nearly every other person on the Task Force? 'Ghost' for more reasons than one, of course.

Soap—with Ghost's hand—yanked open one of the lockers, the motion harder than he intended. The metal door clanged against the frame, the sound rattling through the empty room. Soap winced. He wasn’t used to having this much strength at his fingertips. Everything felt like it needed to be handled gently, like he was walking around with a wrecking ball attached to his arms.

He let out a breath, his hands moving up to the edges of Ghost’s mask. It was hot, suffocating, and the fabric clung to his skin like it had been welded on. How did Ghost breathe in this thing? Let alone wear it for hours on end?

Clothes removed, and every urge in his being keeping him from scoping out all of Ghost's scars and angles and other things this close, Soap hooked his fingers under the mask, ready to pull it off. He needed air. Just for a second. It wasn’t like he’d be exposing Simon’s face to the whole world. It was just him, here, about to take a shower after the roughest, weirdest mission of his life and—

A hand clamped around his wrist.

Soap reacted instinctively, yanking back harder than he intended. Gaz—Ghost in Gaz's body, he reminded himself—stumbled, his grip loosening as his borrowed legs faltered under the force. The movement was all wrong. Ghost wasn’t supposed to stumble. Even in Gaz’s smaller frame, he should’ve been steady, precise.

But Simon wasn’t used to being Gaz any more than Soap was used to being Ghost. Any more than Price was used to being Soap and Gaz was used to be Price.

Ghost caught himself against the lockers, his breath coming quick and sharp. He straightened slowly, the awkwardness in the motion so uncharacteristic it almost made Soap laugh. Almost.

Soap glared, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “What the hell, Ghost? You don’t just grab a man like that.”

Ghost didn’t answer right away. He adjusted his stance, his borrowed body visibly fighting to find a balance that should’ve been second nature. “Don’t take it off,” he said finally, his voice low and even.

Soap frowned, his hand still resting near the edge of the mask. “What’s your problem? It’s just me, in your bloody body, trying not to die of heatstroke. I’m about to get in the shower, for Christ’s sake.”

“Leave it,” Ghost repeated, softer this time.

Soap hesitated, the tension in Ghost’s voice catching him off guard. He’d expected a snarky comment, a barked order—something with the usual bite Simon carried. But this?

Soap’s frown deepened. “Simon, come on. It’s just me. I’m not parading your face around. I’m about to wash your bloody body.”

“It’s my face, Johnny." Ghost interrupted, his tone barely above a whisper. He crossed his arms, Gaz’s body shifting with a stiffness that didn’t suit it. "And I don’t want to see it.”

That stopped Soap cold. He stared at Ghost—or Gaz—or whatever the hell he was supposed to process right now—and felt the weight of the words settle in the space between them. The mask wasn’t just for show, Soap knew that. But still...

Soap let his hand drop, the mask staying firmly in place. He let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Fine,” he muttered. “Mask stays on. Happy?”

Ghost nodded, the tension in his borrowed shoulders easing just slightly.

Soap turned toward the showers, his movements still clumsy and heavy as he adjusted to Ghost’s frame. He hesitated at the doorway, glancing back at Ghost one last time. “You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “you could’ve just asked.”

Ghost didn’t respond, but the faintest flicker of something—relief, maybe—crossed his borrowed face. That stoney expression didn't fit Gaz's face one bit. Soap shook his head and stepped into the showers, the water already running hot. Way too fuckin' weird. The mask stayed on.

[off-mozzarella]

Just another silly thing from the body swap au, gotta keep those fae blood sugar levels high enough xD

To be clear, I don't think he needs to consume more sugar than your average hylian, I was thinking maybe Legend overexerted himself and Hyrule knows it would help him recover faster, so he's taking care of his bro with the excuse of a nice dessert 👉👈

[mari-lair]

more body swap!

[reason-with-the-underdog]

body swap au

a bodyswap au for hkvthm would be really sexy bc imagine them both being reasonably competent enough at each other's highly specialised jobs to be able to "pass" for a few days

plus you KNOW they'd react so differently to the situation:

alhaitham in kaveh's body unanimously decides to call in sick on all of his ongoing commissions so he can get a solid week of sleep to make up for the crazy sleep debt he's feeling (and also to give kaveh's body a caffeine break bc the caffeine withdrawal jitters are NOT it yo)

kaveh in alhaitham's body spends one day in office being very helpful and easy to find (which scares the rest of the office btw) before being reminded by panah that the mahamata has a generous PTO policy

kaveh graciously accepts, partly out of "i need to figure out what's going on here and if alhaitham's ok" & also out of sheer novelty (bc small business owners like him dont get paid time off...)

which means that alhaitham and kaveh are both at home, officially on leave. so now what?

well, alhaitham in kaveh's body discovers that even though he's incredibly tired (again, the sleep debt), the insomnia very much won't let him. he's grumpily counting desert constructs in his mind with all the curtains pulled shut and soothing instrumental music playing on the record player and still. sleep does not come

meanwhile kaveh in alhaitham's body hears that alhaitham paused all his projects and is just like "nope i refuse" especially because he's actually feeling pretty great right now. so kaveh plans to keep working on those commissions anyways so he can meet the original deadlines

....except he discovers to his disgruntlement that alhaitham's body demands an afternoon nap right after lunch. it doesn't even matter that kaveh in alhaitham's body drank coffee, he's sleeping even if he doesn't want to

and worse, he wakes up refreshed... and ready for a run??!? wtf (kaveh has asthma, he has never woken up feeling like he wanted to run ever)

anyway one of kaveh's clients is super pushy and insists on a meeting with kaveh

so a very grumpy alhaitham in kaveh's body shows up & reads them the riot act (he knows the law, the client's property deed was improperly filed & the resulting delay is not kaveh's responsibility)

meanwhile kaveh's dealing with sensory overload bc wdym that textures are loud?? :(

somehow this all results in the same way they always seem to end up, alhaitham and kaveh napping together in the living room, piled up on the same divan despite having three perfectly good couches to use

and now they understand each other a bit more, but also they're both pretty grateful to be switching back into their normal bodies

[crazy-ache]

WIP Snippet - Elucien Body Swap

Thank you @olenvasynyt for making this graphic for me! ₊₊₊₊ Lucien’s mechanical eye whirred more frantically and erratically at the emerald jeweled necklace than he could ever recall in his long, immortal lifespan. It was thrumming and covered in a spiderweb of spells, though through his russet eye, he could see it sit plainly as any other piece of jewelry would in Elain’s small hand. 

“Who could throw such a thing away?” 

He wasn’t used to her asking questions of him. He wasn’t used to the pleasantry of conversations with his mate. Yet it wasn’t nerves churning in his stomach. 

“Lady, you really shouldn’t touch that,” Lucien cleared his throat, nervously stepping toward her. “I have a bad feeling about—“

He watched as Elain looked into the hallway mirror and held the strange necklace up in the air as if to place it upon her perfect neck. 

“No!” He couldn’t restrain himself. It reeked of curses and ancient spells. To hell with manners and their long-standing history of stilted, distant propriety.

Instinct had him lurch forward, reaching for her shoulder to prevent her from putting it on. 

When his hand found her skin, the last thing he saw was her reflection in the mirror—wide, surprised brown eyes staring right at him and her gaping mouth parted as if to shout his name. 

He never did hear her shout it. 

The buzz of unfamiliar, tingling magic encapsulated them both, starting from the necklace itself, then traveled up her delicate arm to the place his fingertips joined her shoulder. A gold dusting spread all along their bodies. As it happened, it seemed to grip them both in place from where they stood and breathed—not a single hair on their heads even moved. A single heartbeat later and the magic released them. 

Lucien went tumbling back, careening into a coatrack. From the loud crash he heard, the force must have also sent Elain falling backward. The necklace clattered on the spot where they had just stood, its magic no longer emanating, leaving it seemingly ordinary and lifeless. 

“What just happened?” 

Lucien heard his shaky voice ask. 

Only he had not spoken. He had not even opened his mouth. 

Pushing himself up on his elbows, he snapped his head up. Wide, mismatched orbs met his gaze from across the floor. His eyes met him. That was his molten red hair spilling on the floor as his body pushed itself up to a sitting position. Panic surged through him, extinguishing his inner fire like a bucket of ice cold water. Lucien nearly broke his neck to look down at himself because what the actual fuck—

Those were definitely Elain’s breasts where his chest was supposed to be located. He wasn’t proud to admit he did in fact know what they looked like even if they barely made eye contact in the past few years. Her long locks of curled hair came into his view and her thin hands trembled as he tried to breathe. 

He clumsily jumped to his feet, not used to the lightness of her petite frame. Elain followed and they both peered into the hanging mirror at the same time. His mate’s face was staring back at him. He touched her smooth face with the hesitant pad of his fingertips. Next to him, Elain did the same, her now large, broad hands slapping his cheeks, like this was just a bad dream and she simply needed to wake up.

He was inside Elain’s body. 

And not in a good way. 

Which meant Elain was inside him—

He cringed as the loudest, most blood-curdling scream pierced the hallway. Lucien had never heard himself sound so terrified before, and he certainly hadn’t known his voice could reach such a high octave in range. Which meant Elain had figured it out as well.

Elain held his hair in her hands as if it were the most offensive creature to ever touch her. His own heart was thundering in his chest. Well, technically it was Elain’s chest. It felt as if he couldn’t find the air because these lungs did not belong to him. The unsettling realization made the room spin. 

Oh, Cauldron boil him.

They had switched bodies.