#Semblance swap au

[demapatto-art]

All | 2 | more body swap sillies

[setsu-kos-arashi]

Wait so if their semblances swapped and their aura's didn't, does that mean Jaune could magneto stuff, or Emiya

What if Ruby & Yang Swapped Semblances?

Ruby: *running track in a gym uniform*

Yang: *dashes past Ruby in a burst of sunflowers*

Ruby: -_- *keeps running*

Yang: *dashes past Ruby again*

This cycle continues a few times...

Ruby: Stop abusing it!

Yang: *stops in front of Ruby in her own gym uniform* Aw come on, Rubes! This is so cool!

Ruby: My semblance isn't a toy, Yang! And you still need good cardio to use it! It's not some kind of life hack!

Yang: Well, I already have good cardio, so I can do this all day. But you know what? You land one punch on me and I'll stop.

Ruby: *takes a pose* Fine. *throws a punch and misses*

Yang: Come on, I'm not even using the semblance. *jabs Ruby in the face*

Ruby: *swings and misses*

Yang: Come on, Rubes~ Hit me. *pops Ruby*

Ruby: *swings and misses*

Yang: *pops Ruby* Come on~ *pops Ruby* Ya gotta move faster to dodge. *pops Ruby* Come on, slowpoke! Don't tell me you relied only on your semblance~

Ruby: Stop it, Yang... *throws a punch and miss*

Yang: Well? What are you gonna do? *pops Ruby again and again* Your lucky these aren't real punches or-

Ruby: *eyes glow red as Ruby's hair turns silver, she throws a body blow on Yang*

SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!

Yang: *proceeds to gasp and doubles over*

Ruby: *returns to normal and huffs* Should've kept your guard up, Yang.

Yang: Jaaaaaaaaaaune, you gotta help me! I need you to heal me! I think Ruby cracked a rib!

Jaune: Sorry, Yang. But my Semblance got swapped too.

Yang: W-with who...?

Pyrrha: *walks in, cosplaying as Mercy*

Yang: ...

Pyrrha: I will only heal you if you cosplay as an Overwatch character.

Yang: ...Can I at least be Tracer?

Nora: No. *comes in dressed as Tracer* I'm already Tracer.

Yang: Fuck!

[oceanreveuse]

𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲, 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲.

◟fem!reader, NOT CANON AU, think of this as like... an evil, meaner version of neuvillette! that means yes, it'll be ooc by canon!neuv standards fyi, massively nsfw, dacryphilia, dragon man w a lot of stamina, two dick neuvi, overstimulation, breeding, neuvillette with forked tongue, penetration, dom!neuvillette, sub!reader, petnames (angel, darling, sweetheart), momentary praise (good girl), very short but it was just a thought - not proofread. ◟anastasia's footnote : this was spawned by a conversation with yukari earlier so this is how i'm spending my halloween evening; yet again, this is not canon!au neuvillette. it's like alternate universe. shadow realm. the evil akasha possessed haitham. that type!!

another long, slow thrust into your tight heat and this man has just about lost it. the two of you had been at this for hours, perhaps for longer than your fragile human body could withstand but he was at the point of caring less. NEUVILLETTE was certain you'd take everything he gave you, pushing you to the limits just for a little more of his seed, just for your womb to be filled to the brim with hot, sticky substance as if it was your lifeline. you had a safe word, you was very good at tapping out too so the dragon was past showing any concern.

you were so good for him, so obedient and willing to take his dick - or dicks, depending on the day. sometimes filling one hole up was simply not enough for him, perhaps his day as the iudex of fontaine had truly pissed him off. white hair drapes over his shoulders, brushing against your bare skin that's sticky and hot to touch, red streaks giving you some semblance of colour in the dim lit room. he had to run out of stamina eventually, right?

"n-neuv," you choke out, wanton moans and the lewd slap of skin drowning out your attempts at coherent sentences, "please!"

the dragon raises a brow, briefly amused at your apparent need to beg him. beg him for what? for relief, for a moment of recovery, for more potent seed, for a change of position? all the options and neuvillette was reeling at the imagery it gave him. a smirk tugs at those pale lips, hovering just above your neck as he inhales your scent so deep, fangs bared at the thought of just biting down on your skin. it's oh so tempting, he digs his fingertips into the plush skin of your hips just to gain some semblance of restraint.

"what is it, angel?" neuvillette chuckles, deep red eyes lifting to admire the glossy affect in your tears - what's this? tears threatening to drip down your cheeks and merge with the drool on your chin and jaw from laying on your back for so long? "enjoying being such a good darling for me that much tonight?"

the whimper you release is drowned out by neuvillette's low growl, the tip of his second cock bumping against your sensitive clit as it slides through your soaked folds with every sharp thrust he delivers, determined to finish you both again - and soon. the tears are on the verge of spilling, a black forked tongue licking at neuvillette's lips like a parched man.

finally, one falls down your cheek, rolling a path along your skin that his eyes narrow in on almost instantly. he knows you're too fucked out to acknowledge it, to even notice anything past his hips drilling into your wet cunt and his heavy balls slapping against your ass. neuvillette leans forward, almost pressing your body in half. he grunts as you squeal, blown out eyes blink blearily up at him with that damn innocent look.

he's so close to blowing another load into you, pumping you full of cum and ensuring you're bred, round and full for the sake of his legacy as the iudex but first... your eyes are squeezed shut, not expecting the rough slither that trails from your jaw up to your cheekbone, licking up a salty tear.

"fuck," he breathes, his nose bumping yours briefly as he swaps sides, his tongue wet as it follows the path of your tears that just keep flowing as a result of overstimulation, "you taste so much better than i thought you would, sweetheart."

there's a wicked grin on his face, his fair skin glinting with sweat in the candlelight. neuvillette's hot breath fans over your face, your little sniffles and whimpers almost matching the rhythm of his cock bullying your sweet hole and neuvillette bares his fangs once more, "i think it's time to reward you one last time for being a good girl, don't you think?"

© oceanreveuse 2024 | reblogs appreciated | do not repost, steal, translate, etc. on any social media platform & do not feed to ai.

◟the waves call for : @kokonoiis @tetsuskei @reonaissance @ryuryuryuyurboat

[ the magazine is affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum ]

[aaroleswapau]

are nahyuta or any of the other khura’inese characters in this au? i like them a normal amount

yep, they are! nahyuta and dhurke are swapped! it's been a while since i've thought about aa6 in any capacity for the swap au bc, let's be real, it's so hard to piece together LMAO ORZ

it's such a swerve to go from miles, klavier, and simon to "OH IT'S APOLLO TIME NOW!!!!!!!!" in the au WHEEZES so i did think about making aa6 like, swapollo's version of an investigations game just so it'd make sense that he gets the spotlight this time.

and yea, nahyuta and co. are here (i unfortunately don't have a design for rayfa yet :^[) but from what i remember, i haven't actually like, solidified their lore in the story bc again, it's very difficult to do (i just like drawing and character design why did i do this orz) DFGHD but yea. somehow, he left khura'in and went into japanifornia with a semblance of a plan in hand and if he could, find his long-lost brother :'^)

i did think about nahyuta approaching the eaa being one of the first things he did (reasons tba pftt) but the idea that he's your co-counsel in the 6-2 is really fun! i do remember switching out the prosecutor in this case to apollo, just for the added trucy angst (bc she still is the one who gets accused in this), and bc of "uh oh what's this!!! my long-lost sibling on the other side of the courtroom!! WHAT!!!!!!!!!"

as for dhurke, i haven't built a lot of lore stuff for him yet (bc i cannot remember aa6 lore very well DFGHD) but just. the switcahroo trick of him being gone the whole time? very fun. you know who else had a switcharoo moment in aa6? hey hold on, why is nayna not here in this au?? why is dhurke's hair lavender????? anyways :^]

[twost3ps]

I have not been doing so hot. I keep on saying that but burnout is actually crazy double comboed with artblock. But after some tears of frustration I wanted to show my swap au so yeyey

Short synopsis:

Lilith, Lucifur, Charlie 🔄 Adam, Micheal, Emily

Micheal and Adam fall after taking the forbidden fruit (it is a pear!) Rule over hell together and then have 7 children- Cain, Abel, Seth, Alclima, Awan and Emily. Hell does its own exterminations every year. Micheal and Adam lead along side with their children who participate as well. Up above Charlie watches in dispair. Her father has told her about the horrors of hell and its deranged rulers. She's the angel of Mercy (maybe I might change that) and wants the sinners of hell to have a second chance. So she goes down to hell without asking and tries to find a way to help save some of the sinners from suffering. In that time she makes friends with Hell's royal family starting with Emily and then comes to realize that heaven is a little (a lot) more corrupted than she thought

So here are some of their busts. I drew emily young bcz this was initially going to be a family portrait but I got lazy but for the au she's her canon age her horns are covered by her hair o3o

So heres a long but not full backstory and info of the au if ur interested under the cut:

Idk why yet why Micheal tempted Adam with the pear but it happened. Because of their betrayal, Adam and Micheal get sent down. But while Lilith is stripped of her fertility, Adam has his humanity stripped. When Micheal recovers, he's greeted with his lover in the form of a wild beast, body stretched, covered in feathers. The only human-ish thing is Adam's face which is essentially looks like a porcelain mask of his face with his eyes closed in a permeant smile unless he opens it and then the mask splits in two.

It takes days for Micheal to calm down the animalistic Adam. It just seems like everything about him is gone. Micheal still loves him, though, so he stays. Adam thrashes around, he screams, and he yells. The abyss is nothing but rubble as Adam digs wildly while screaming. Adam is too hostile for Micheal to comfort so he deals with just watching from afar.

As years roll by as Micheal watches his lover, Adam begins to calm down. He's grown tired and his animalistic rage has subsided. Micheal is able to pet Adam and he can see how tured Adam is. They begin sleeping together again.

All seems hopeless that Adam will ever gain any semblance of his humanity. That is until the first sinner arrives.

Micheal had seen the sinner from afar. He was going to approach, but then he heard Adam. Adam barreled at the sinner and before Micheal knew it, Adam had eaten the sinner with a vile crunch.

Micheal rushed to Adam to see the damage. Then Adam moved and turned. It was then that Adam had spoken properly since the fall. He asked Micheal what happened but Micheal could only stare and cry. They were able to talk for a while and they savored every bit of it.

That joy only lasted for a few hours before Adam became animalistic again.

From then on, Micheal made it his mission to gather as many sinners and feed them to Adam.

Initially it hurt. It hurt a lot. And after doing it for so long, Micheal knew that the sinners would never reform. But that harsh reality paled in comparison to Adam finally having his concise again. Being able to finally talk to his lover and husband was more than enough reason for him.

So time flies and hell is getting bigger and stronger. The population of sinners is also getting bigger. There becomes less spawn killing of sinners but they are kinda checked over like livestock to the royal family.

Hell in this universe is more fairy tale based to differ from whats supposed be a circus theme??? that i get from hazbin. Thats what people say so I'm making my hell the brothers grim x into the woods x shrek.

I want the royal family in fairy tale clothes okay >:(

Hell is essentially far far away land except everything is out to get you. The place is straight up inhabitable as everyone who spawns in ends up having to run away immediately. It's so hard not to die or get hurt. The terrane is unforgiving, the trees are out to get you, the flowers are out to get you, the animals are out to get you, the weather is out to get you, the water thats not whatever is out to get you. Any wrong slip and you can just die again. Sinners are a lot more prone to betrayal and rage because living is just so hard.

There is no pentagram city, its like, a couple of very small town that are ruled by overolords. Overlords are people who just got lucky or got into a contract with one of the royal children. They use their power to stay alive and have some semblance of stability but they are given power to they raise other sinners like cattle through contracts if needed.

These overlords though are pretty... yeah... so they kinda become like those fairy tale villains.

So for funzies, all those fairy tales that people hear on earth are true stories that come from hell that had been told by demons who escape to the mortal realm and whisper them in writers ears as they sleep or some bs like that sdfoeufb

But as stated, exterminations do happen. Like cattle, it is important to save up the stock. You cant consume everything as they come, cattle needs its time to grow. So every year, they let the population grow and on extermination day, Micheal and Adam ride out into hell as they purge a bunch of sinners till Adam eats enough to revert back to human form till the next ectermination.

It's only them that exterminate and collect till their children grow up and join them in the exterminations- fueled by their want to keep Adam humanly conscious. They collect the bodies and then Adam feeds on them after hours to gain his humanity back

Micheal and Adam have their children- Cain, Abel, Seth, Alclima, Awan and Emily

Cain, Seth, Alclima, and Awan become the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse (i went with the good omens version with death, famine, war and pestilence- conquest is not one -yet- )

Cain (death) in very short is like Death in puss and boots with a lot less chill. He does have Death's sickles (I wanted to make them Abel's horns so thats a maybe) He's a mama's (adam) boy and a giant brat

Seth (Famine) Chillest of the siblings. He's a lot like Adam, just not as brash. He spreads famine through locusts that emerge from his cloak. They look like pretty jewels until they fly off. Food rots in his presence during exterminations. He hates when he accidentally activates it when hes eating (he loves snacking)

Alclima (War) She's very tough and brutish. Very honest in her opinions and not afraid to speak about it. Her and Cain play fight a lot. The exorcist army exists but they live as the royal family's castle's soldiers and they are commanded by Alclima. During exterminations, she is the one to lead them in battle. Her presence gives people the rage of war.

Awan (Pestilence) Very eerie girl/ Shes got that dead eye look sometimes and just stares at people. Shes actually very kind and soothing. She's very girly and has a room similar to stockings from paswg. Shes a stem girlie

Abel kind of overlooks them as the representation of chaos. (I wanted the death and chaos are the children of the devil thing to happen so this it) The first attempted murder does happen between Abel and Cain, but since they're in hell magic sooo hahah blam Cain allows his body to merge with Abel out of regret and so Abel kind lives in his conscience but can also switch control over his brother (idk im so done)

Emily is supposed to become a fifth horseman as the representation of conquest. But she young and stuff and only just became an adult so she still maneuvering through it- also sera's here too and she takes the place of Alastor and is a royal advisor to the family sufoauebfoebos

They are all part lion coming from Micheal but their horns are from Adam

Their children are very mixed about exterminations, but Emily has the most issues with it. The family in general feels bad, but family over the people. Emily is just way more emotional about it, especially since she is yet to participate.

Exterminations are very mixed in hell with the citizens because while some have the will to live, some want to truly end their suffering. Many willingly sacrifice themselves and go under contracts with overlords. With overlords, they get to live comfortably as they possibly can but they still hate hell so when exterminations roll around they willingly die.

This is a lot but its not everything. Actually this is all very vauge rn but idk if I want to work on this :p

THIS IS SUCH A MESSKJFBIABFIAEGFIAUEGIdfi

Also a bit of the beast adam deisgn. I want to add some more stuff. do some tweaking but AUAGSDD yuppers i will change some stuff about him later (i forgot his horns)

i dont think i'll do much with this au after this -maybe draw it but i won't write- but it was a fun thought

I'll try to post tomorrow some guitarhero stuff but im so dead IAFBISUEBFGI

[ftsmutweek]

Come One, Come All - It is time to get some spice on with:

Fairy Tail's Hot & Steamy Smut Week!

Prompts

—Dom Prompts—

Overstimulation

Praise Kink

Desperate

Tease

Entangled

Edging

Something New/Experiment

—Sub-Prompts—

Wine & Dine

Semi-Public/Public

Monster

Swap

Gender-Swap

Double Penatration

Potion

69

Creampie

Bondage

Degration Kink

Choking Kink

Master/Slave

AU Setting

Bound Hands/Feet

BDSM

Domestic

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Noisy Neighbors

Anniversary

Mutual Pining

Simping

Jealousy

Protector/Protectee

Brat

Power Bottom

—Written Prompt— "Warm...their body simmered and boiled, sweat cooling over heated skin. Back arching, hands grasping, they fought for a piece of control, even just the semblance of it. Too much...this would be their final mark in the world, an expiration date date too early. A keening sound rang in their ears, deafening them. When they realized they were gasping, desperate and yearning for the fresh air around them, they finally realized the cry came from them. And the lasting pleasure rolled over them as mind and body finally reconnected."

How Does This Work?

—Dom Prompts— The main prompts, or the Dom Prompts, are the main topics set for the week to use. There are seven there for the seven days the event will be going on.

If one of the Dom Prompts makes you uncomfortable or you cannot come up with something on the prompt, any option from the Sub Prompts can be used.

—Sub Prompts— These are additional items you can choose from to add to your story. Sprinkle in a bit of extra spice, or just use the first prompt alone. Mix and match to your hearts desire!

These prompts, as mentioned above, can also be used as substitutions for any of the Dom Prompts that just don't work for you.

Rules / Event Information

—Submissions— Smut Week is to showcase the works of content creators who make the spicier content. To make things easier for readers and those interested, please ensure the following: At least ONE (1) Dom Prompt, or a substitute from the Sub Prompt list, should be used as the Main Prompt and mentioned. After that, any additional Sub Prompts can be used and mentioned.

—Posting— Please mention ( @ftsmutweek ) the blog to help ensure the post is visible and it will be reblogged. Include the tag #ft Hot & Steamy Smut Week 2024 or #ft Smut Week 2024 within the first five tags as well. ALL SUBMISSIONS NEED TO PUT content warnings in the tags accordingly. While many might not see issue with adult-fun stuff, there are many who are either: - Minors - Have Triggers to certain topics - Are uncomfortable with this topic - Or generally might not be interested in it Due to the subject of this week, please ensure all submissions - here and on AO3 - are properly tagged. This also helps those who are looking for certain topics to read about - so it is a win-win for everyone!

—AO3 Collection— Fairy Tail's Hot & Steamy Smut Week 2024

—Generic Rules— - Please, keep it friendly between submitters, and no blatant character bashing. - Any and all ships with characters of age are welcomed, even Poly ships are welcomed! - ABSOLUTELY NO ships involving adult/child. This is illegal. Let's not. - If the subject matter has or is part of a non-consensual relationship, please ensure this is in the tags and addressed in warnings.

If there are any questions, please feel free to send an ask!

-

Art by @phoenix-before-the-flame Designed by @genavere Thank you @pencilofawesomeness for posting their event before mine so I could copy and paste some of your event rules (otherwise, I would have totally forgot)!

@ftguildevents

[to-fly-with-clipped-wings]

Chapter 1.2 - Train Rides and Talking Hats

Chapter 1.2 - Train Rides and Talking Hats

Pairing: Harry Potter x Chosen One! Reader

‘“Oi,” you spoke, feeling your jaw clench at the blond boy’s demeanour. “I’d watch what I was saying if I was you, especially considering the crap that’s spewing outta your sewage-system of a mouth.” Draco Malfoy turned his sharpened gaze toward you. “And I’d be more careful if I was you. You don’t want to make enemies with the wrong people.” “Same goes for you.”’ OR: in which you hitch a ride on the Hogwarts Express and buckle up for one hell of a ride. → Set in a universe where you are the chosen one, and Harry Potter is your best friend who tries to help you navigate the woes of being the lone hero of the wizarding world. A swap au where you are the chosen one, your parents are dead but the marauders + Lily are not. Eventual Harry x Reader, slowburn, friends to lovers. Series Masterlist

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡  　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

Perhaps, if you had any less self-respect, having had a mental breakdown on the King’s Cross platform would have been your morning on the 1st of September.

The train leaves at eleven, Hagrid had told you. The Caddels had dropped you off at the station at half past ten before leaving to drop Odette off at her new school, Smeltings, they’d said. All you were really aware of was the nifty cane that came with the uniform, supposedly used to thwack fellow peers. An excellent training for later life.

Regardless of peculiar apparels or uniforms – you had now acquired a steadily rising fear that you would never be able to wear your own, if you couldn’t uncover where exactly platform nine and three-quarters was located at the station. 

There they were, right in front of you, platforms nine and ten – right there – but nowhere could you spot any semblance or notion of anything three-quarters related. The large plastic number nine leered tauntingly at you, swinging back and forth vaguely with the passing breeze.

You had pestered the guard manning the station. He hadn’t even heard of Hogwarts, and since you had no flying clue where or even what the school was, you couldn’t describe it to him. The guard stared at you incredulously, as though you were deliberately trying to be stupid (you didn’t miss how he eyed Hedwig, your owl, who chirped irritably back at him). It took every ounce of your remaining willpower to not snap or lunge at him and cause a scene in the middle of the station, especially when a congregation of people had formed a circle around you to observe the exchange curiously.

Apparently, according to a variety of people at the station, there wasn’t even a train that left at eleven o’clock. And, though it was obvious, platform nine and three-quarters completely did not exist. Like, at all. And to top the cherry on your fabulous sundae of anxiety and chagrin, according to the large clock situated on the arrivals board, you had a little under fifteen minutes to be seated on the train. 

You wished Hagrid had left you with more information, but when the man had dropped you back at your house and allowed you the time to blink, he had vanished. Urgent magical business, you mused dryly. Almost like the kerfuffle of being stranded on a station with not the foggiest idea of where to go. 

Were you missing something? Did you need to cast a spell? What if you missed the train? Oh, you knew you should have read the books before coming to the station. You swore at that moment to leave no page in your spell-books unturned (in hindsight, you knew you would drop this vow three days in).

Just as you were preparing to brandish your wand at the stray ticket box next to platform nine, trying your very best to formulate a spell that would divulge the presence of platform nine and three-quarters. 

In a perfectly timed turn of events, a group of people passed behind you, and you managed to glean a glimpse of their conversation.

“ – packed with Muggles, of course –

You heard your neck crack from how fast you wheeled around. Muggles. You had never been happier to hear a single word. The speaker was a stout woman, to an audience of about five red-headed children. Four boys and a girl, who from the conversation that ensued, you discovered was too young to attend Hogwarts just yet. 

You trained your eyes on them like a hawk, shadowing ‘Percy’, the oldest boy, as he dashed toward the brick wall of platform nine, pushing his trolley along with him. Wincing, you closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see him and all of his school supplies crash onto the floor. 

Miraculously, however, when you peeled your eyelids back open, the boy was gone. As were the twin brothers, Fred and George (or did their mother say George and Fred?). 

There was only one more boy left; a tall – though that entire family seemed to be on stilts – lanky, deeply freckled one. If you wanted to know where the sons were disappearing to, this was your final shot.

“Hey!” you called out, dragging your trolley behind you as you approached the remaining members of the red-headed family. Then, realising how the abruptness of a random girl yelling at someone may be perceived as abrash, you decided to dial back your advances. “Hi, sorry. Do you happen to know how to –” “How to get on to the platform?” she said kindly. “No worries at all, dear. Is this your first time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” 

She pointed at her last son. He had dirt on his nose. You nodded your head slightly toward him in greeting, but your mind was still hyper focused on how the clock was dwindling closer and closer to eleven. “Pleasure,” you smiled, desperation beginning to blemish your voice, evident as it began to inch one or two octaves higher. “So, er, I’m hoping that you do know how to get to the train?” “That’s right,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Go on, go now before Ron.”

You ruffled the collar of your shirt, which was looking far too neat and sophisticated (and therefore, not nearly as charming as you preferred it to be). “Thanks, Miss.” 

You sucked in a deep breath before gathering your courage and sprinted toward the very solid, opaque looking barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. 

You were running — running like a lunatic, might you add, when you realised you were almost there — and then, quite suddenly, you weren’t. 

Rather, you now found yourself underneath a sign that read Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock.

Permeating through a brick wall was yet another box to check from your list of magical experiences. Twice, actually, if you counted the entrance to Diagon Alley. Odd was it indeed, but it was your odd now, and you lest would allow anyone try and rob you of it. 

You stood in awe, head on a swivel as you examined the new environment. A mammoth of a train, one whose size could only be attributed to the slight of one’s magical hand, with smoke seeping out of its charcoal chimneys, stood tall against the crowded stage of the station. 

You turned around to see if the red-headed family had made it through as well, and sure enough, there they were. The woman was still looking at you, and when you waved at her, her face split into a soft smile as she returned the gesture. You swept your dishevelled hair to the side – it had tousled itself into a heaping mess sometime during your episode on the other side of the train station. 

You only registered the consequence of this action when the red-headed woman’s eyes widened, and as an abrupt muteness circulated throughout the platform, capitulating the vocal cords of what seemed to be every single man, woman and/or child present there at that very moment. 

Families that were once bidding their children goodbye, lovingly caressing cheeks or smoothing down fly-away hairs, or families who were once loading trunks onto compartments, were now reacting in an identical fashion of the same scene that had transpired at the leaky pub; normal chatter was extinguished, and murmurs crept around the platform like an amateur thief in a treasure trove.

“The lightning scar!”

“Is that – oh, my sweet Merlin, it is!” “Oh – where –?!”

“Move! Let me get a glimpse!”

“Look, over there!”

“(Y/n) (L/n)!”

You stiffened under everyone’s combined gazes, the hasty switch of focus to you catching you off guard. But, as quickly as the alarm had rippled into your body, it had dispersed out. 

A smirk split your face, and you nodded toward the woman closest to you (who promptly went pink and near-fainted) as a way to acknowledge that you acknowledged their sudden interest in you. You heard someone chuckle at the sight, and a few more flurries of whispers were burgeoned from other by-standers.

During the time it took for you to jostle your trolley into an empty carriage near the back of the train, the number of people actively tracking your every move had died down, though only by a fraction. From the corners of your eyes, you could still see the odd third-year trying to estimate how many laces you had on your shoes, no doubt so he could pester his parents into buying the same pair. (You kept to yourself that they had previously belonged to Odette, however, as you seriously doubted anyone wanted to know that (Y/n) (L/n), hero of the wizarding world, still wore hand-me-downs.)

Unfortunately, it seemed that although you possessed the power to terminate the reign of the darkest and most powerful wizards in history, you had apparently not attained the muscles required to heave your trunk up the stairs onto the Hogwarts Express. You stumbled back, cursing as you reeled from the pain that rocketed through your foot after you dropped your trunk on your toes.

“Want a hand?” 

You looked up. It was one of the red-headed twins, from that family you had met before.

“Yes,” you said almost immediately. “Er, please.”

“Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”

The three of you managed to successfully store your trunk into the corner of your compartment. Before you could thank the twins for their help, though, one of the twins pointed at the spot on your forehead where the thin lightning-shaped scar donned your skin. 

“You’re (Y/n) (L/n),” he announced. Just like Olivander, this had not been a question, but rather a statement.

“Yes,” you straightened your posture, raising your head a little higher. “That’s right. I am.”

The two boys gawked at you, and you subtly swept your sweaty hair to expose the scar even further. To your slightest dismay, however, the familiar voice of the red-headed mother drifted through the carriage before you were able to elaborate further on your tale of the lightning-shaped battle scar.

“Fred? George? Are you there?” Both the twins groaned at their mother’s summoning. Sparing one last glance at you, they ambled toward her call. “Coming, Mum.” You waved the twins goodbye. Sitting down by the window, you ducked your head so you could listen to the family, who were still on the platform, whilst being half-hidden at the same time. Their mother had scourged out a handkerchief and was furiously scrubbing at Ron’s nose to rid the smudge of dirt that laid upon it.

You watched with amusement as Ron tried to lurch away before being caught in his mother’s iron-fisted clutches once again.

“Mum – geroff!”

One of the twins snickered, leaning close to Ron. “Aaaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?” 

“Shut up!” You saw the oldest of the red-headed siblings saunter towards his family, already draped in his robes. A shiny red and gold badge was pinned onto his chest, with the letter P engraved onto it.

“Can’t stay long, Mother,” he said stiffly. “I’m up front, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves –”

“Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?” One of the twins gasped, bringing his hands to his face in disbelief. “You should have said something, we had no idea.” “Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it, once –”

“Or twice –”

“A minute –”

“All summer –”

You huffed a laugh at the back and forth going between the family. Percy the Prefect’s face was starting to sport a lovely bright, irritable shade of red. 

“How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?” queried one of the twins.

“Because he’s a Prefect,” their mother smoothed Percy’s already-perfectly-smoothened hair fondly. “All right, dear, well have a good term – send me an owl when you get there.” 

She sent him off with a kiss. 

You sunk back into your seat. For some reason, the jovial atmosphere you’d felt upon discovering the magical platform had now become strangely dampened. 

Call it a moment of weakness, sure – but in that moment, you wished that you could have a mother. A mother who would dote on you like that or who would comfort you. 

But, as soon as that looming train of thoughts had festered, you vanquished them from your mind – the other kids could keep their affectionate mothers who waved them goodbye as they left, the same, in fact, would go for their superficial, gentle-natured fathers; you had your fame and that topped any shred of whatever they may have had, whatever you were missing!

As though the red-head family were suddenly attuned with your train of thought, you heard the voice of the youngest child, the girl, pipe up. “Oh! (Y/n) (L/n) On the train? Please can I go see her, Mum, please, please, please…”

“You’ve already seen her, Ginny, and the poor girl isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo. Is she really, Fred? How do you know?” “Asked her. Saw the scar. It’s really there – like lightning.”

“Poor dear.” 

Your fingers traced the pattern of the scar, not particularly liking the feeling of pity emanating from the family.

“No wonder she was alone. I wondered. She was ever enthusiastic, though, when she asked how to get on to the platform. I’d have thought she’d be scared, by herself…”

“Never mind that, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?”

The red-headed mother swelled. “I forbid you to ask her that, Fred! No, don’t you dare. As though she needs reminding of –... ”

The disarrayed ruckus of another family hurriedly barrelling onto the platform, and ushering their boy onto the train, stripped your focus from the ginger group. 

Observing the mop of black hair, you realised pleasantly that it was the boy you had met at the Quidditch store that day in Diagon Alley. Closely behind him, a stressed looking woman with copper-coloured hair, followed him briskly onto the train. Your lips twitched as you noticed that she possessed the same brilliant green eyes as her son. 

The father, a carbon copy of his son, followed seconds after, carrying a tremendously large trunk onto the train. There was one more man – perhaps one of the uncles the boy had mentioned – who remained on the platform. You guessed that he was allowing the family their final moments together. He didn’t really look alike to the mother or father of Quidditch Boy’s family, so you presumed that he was probably an uncle by choice, not blood. He had sandy brown hair with substantially sized scars running down the entirety of his face and neck. There was a large, shaggy black dog beside him too, and you swore that it had winked when it saw you looking at the group.

A shrill burst of steam raged outwards from the chimney of the train. You guessed that this was a warning to families that the train was about to depart right now. True to your word, just as Quidditch Boy’s mother and father practically leapt off the train carriage they’d left their son in, the train doors slammed shut, and the vehicle began dutifully chugging forward. 

Left behind now, was the platform of nine and three-quarters.

Leaning back in your seat, you exhaled roughly. This was it, the moment that marked the beginning of your journey into Hogwarts. You had no clue where you were going, but you just knew it would be good. A grand moment, you were sure, but what you were also sure of was that the next few hours on the train (or possibly days or months, who knew?) would result in you being bored out of your mind. Stuck in an empty carriage by yourself with no one to talk to – tragic – maybe it would do you some good if you popped down into one of the other carriages and try to find some other first-years.

Coincidentally, the door of the compartment was opened by none other than Quidditch Boy himself. His hair was askew, glasses lopsided and cheeks clearly flushed from the rush of trying to scramble onto the Hogwarts Express before it departed. He did not have his trunk with him, which meant that his father was able to stash it onto the train it in time.

“Hey, again,” he flashed you a bashful smile. “Would it be alright if I could sit here?”

“Sure. No problem.” 

You observed him as he took the seat opposite you. He was already wearing robes of sorts, not the Hogwarts ones, judging from the lack of school emblem, but the sorts that you hypothesised would be the wizarding equivalent to a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“Er,” he started, causing you to look over at him. “It’s nice to see you. Again.” “Yeah.” you agreed with him, offering a lopsided smile. “Great. To meet you.” 

“Yep.”

The compartment fell into a highly awkward silence, one that you were not at all familiar with. Back with the Caddels, or even at your previous school, you had no problem whatsoever making friends with strangers. In fact, conversation came easily to you – you weren’t the most popular girl in the grade for no reason, after all. So the stuffiness invading the atmosphere was most definitely unwelcome, and honestly, unnatural.

Thankfully the awkward cloud hanging above you and Quidditch Boy dissipated abruptly when the compartment door slid open again, revealing the tall, freckled, ginger boy. The other first-year you’d spoken to: Ron.

His eyes widened when he saw you sitting in front of him. “Uh – sorry, anyone else sitting here? Everywhere else is full.”

Quidditch Boy shook his head and Ron took the seat beside them, so they were both facing you. Ron’s gaze hadn’t settled and he kept on glancing toward you and then toward the window whenever he made eye contact with you. It was amusing, his discomfort, from how often he did it.

“Hey, Ron.” The red-headed twins popped into the compartment suddenly. “Listen, we’re going back down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” said the youngest sibling.

So we’re not going to question the spider. Seems good.

“(Y/n),” the other twin, the one who hadn’t been talking to Ron, turned to you. “And other Kid,” referring to Quidditch Boy, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. Anyways, see you later, then.” The three of you said bye in unison as the twins left.

As soon as they were gone, Ron blurted out, “Can we see the scar?” You blinked at him, and he went pink. Though, you complied either way (as you had no qualms to showing off the lightning-shaped bolt). Pulling your hair back, the scar on your forehead was revealed to Quidditch Boy and Ron.

“Wow,” breathed out Quidditch Boy. “It really does look like lightning.”

Ron was equally stunned. “So that’s where You-Know-Who – ?”

“Yes.” You grinned brightly at their awed expressions. They stared at you a couple seconds longer before Ron diverted his attention quickly back to the greenery flitting through the window.

“So, is your whole family magic then?” you asked Ron out of curiosity. 

You already knew that Quidditch Boy’s father was a pure-blood and his mother was a muggle-born, whatever that meant; you weren’t going to be the one to say you had no idea what those were.

“Quidditch Boy?” puzzled Quidditch Boy, eyebrows furrowing. 

Ah, had you said that outloud? Whoops.

You laughed, bringing a hand to your nape. “Sorry, I don’t know your name, so I’ve just, kinda, resorted to calling you Quidditch Boy in my mind.”

“Oh, well, I’m, uh, Harry. Harry Potter.” said the boy, smiling at you once more. 

You slouched further into your seat. “Nice to meet ya then, Harry Potter.”

Ron interjected into the conversation, for which you were grateful. The ginger boy seemed to hold the power of evaporating awkwardness with a snap of his freckled fingers. “Pure-blooded means that everyone on his father’s side is magic. I’m the same – everyone in my family is a wizard, well maybe except for my mum’s second cousin who’s an accountant, but we don’t really talk about him.”

“I get it,” you said, cupping your chin with your hand. “I’ve got no clue what I am. But I know that my father had no magic.”

“A muggle,” Ron nodded appreciatively. “Well, basically everyone knows that your mother was a pure-blood, though. That makes you a half-blood like him, since you’re a mix I guess.” He pointed at Harry. You were slightly startled that he knew more about your family and lineage than you did yourself. Maybe you should get used to people knowing more about you than you did yourself.

“A muggle-born’s a witch or wizard who was born from muggle parents,” continued Ron.

You tilted your head to the side. “Where does their magic come from, if they’ve got no magical blood or whatever?”

Ron looked partially affronted. “Who knows, – magic isn’t exactly something that comes in a nice little package that gets delivered to you when the time is right! All I know is that if you’ve got magic, then you’ve got it. That’s all there is to it, really.” He waved his hands about in the air for further emphasis. This was probably a topic Ron was passionate about, as you noticed his ears flushing red under the combined blank stares of you and Harry. You ponderedthat if Ron were to ever wear something salmon-coloured, it would definitely wash him out. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between his face and his left knee.

You tried to recover from the painful silence. “Thanks, that clears it up. You two must know loads of magic then.” 

“Not nearly enough as my mum wants me to,” said Harry.

“Hear, hear,” mumbled Ron.

“Huh. Guess that’s one good thing that comes out of being an orphan. No pushy mother for me!” You chuckled at the uncomfortable looks on the boys’ faces. 

“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron, scratching the back of his neck. “What’re they like?” “Alright,” you shrugged. “Not outstandingly nice or anything, but they do their job. Would be cooler to have wizarding brothers like you though.”

“Not if you’ve got five of them.” answered Ron gloomily. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes and Charlie’s old wand. I wanted an owl, but they couldn't aff – I mean, they got Percy one instead for becoming a Prefect.”

Ron’s ears went pink again. Your brain, it seemed, was temporarily delayed and was not able to formulate a response to that.

“I’m sure you’ll do better than all your brothers combined,” said Harry. 

Ron smiled gratefully at him. 

As the train rolled onward and your surroundings grew greener, you, quite helpfully, took Hedwig’s cage and placed her on the centre of the table, announcing that the first one to get nipped whilst feeding her treats would be declared the ultimate ‘Loser Lord and/or Lordess.’ Hedwig loved you, so obviously she went ham whenever the two boys got close to her in order to secure your victory.

The three of you fell into an easy conversation after that, and you barely even realised how much time had passed until a smiling, old-looking woman popped her head into the compartment and said “anything off the trolley, dears?”

With that lovely gesture, you had leapt out of your seat and essentially pounced onto the food she was offering. Your pockets were lined with wizard money now, an infinite stash really, and so there was nothing stopping you from buying multiples of everything she had. As such, you, Harry and Ron had to literally struggle and drag back the food you’d hoarded, before dumping it on the table.

“Hungry, are you?” said Ron, raising his eyebrows at the pile of snacks that was nearly as tall as him.

“Starving,” you grinned back.

You, Harry and Ron tore into the pasties and cakes, the mountain rapidly diminishing by the second. There was one incident with a chocolate frog creeping into Hedwig’s cage before getting mauled by her talons. The card that supposedly came with the treat, had also been destroyed, so Harry had given his to you. One with a moving picture of Albus Dumbledore, who had waved politely at your stunned expression.

Once you’d moved onto Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans, you found a lot of enjoyment when Ron had the misfortune of coming across a bean that tasted like dirty socks. Though, your amusement at Ron’s plight had been adjourned with the appearance of a round-faced boy.

“Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?”

“No, sorry.”

You were taken aback when the boy promptly burst into tears. “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!” “He’ll turn up,” said Harry.

“Yes,” said the boy, turning away dejectedly. “Well, if you see him…”

“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” remarked Ron once the boy had left. “If I’d brought a toad I’d lose it as quick as I could.”

You deadpanned at him. “You haven’t even got any pets to lose, Ron. I’m betting that if you ever got one, you’d have even worse attachment issues than Toad-Boy.” “Mind you,” said Harry, talking around his mouthful of Cauldron Cake. “That’s saying a lot.”

“What’ve you got then?” asked Ron, turning his head to glare at Harry. “You seem awfully high and mighty for someone who probably doesn’t even have anything at all.”

“I’ve got a dog,” defended Harry. “Snuffles.” You stifled a giggle. “Snuffles? No way you named your dog that!” “I didn’t pick the name!”

“A dog’s not as good as an owl anyways,” you teased.

“I’d beg to differ – my dog totally is,” Harry grumbled, crossing his arms. “Plus you don’t even need to have an owl – the school���s got its own aviary shock-full of ‘em that you can send letters with.”

“One day, I’m gonna get an owl.” Ron sighed dreamily. “Just for myself, I wouldn’t have to share with Fred or George or Percy or Ginny.”

“Who’s Ginny?”

Before Ron could express the identity of this ‘Ginny’, the compartment door was opened by a bushy-haired girl whose face was wrinkled up irritably. Toad-Boy also made a reappearance.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.” 

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening. Rather, she had been staring at you. 

“You’re (Y/n) (L/n).” she declared matter-of-factly. “I saw you at the station. I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”

Ron gaped at her and Harry blinked a few times repeatedly.

“Be surprised if I wasn’t,” you said, winking cheekily. You also had no idea what she was talking about though.

She studied you appraisingly before asking Ron and Harry “and who are you?”

“Ron Weasley.”

“Harry Potter.”

“Pleasure. Well, I’m Hermione Granger. I was ever so pleased when I got my letter to Hogwarts, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard – I’ve learnt all of our set books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough.”

All three pairs of eyebrows furrowed in synchronisation. You, personally, had only caught about one-third of what she had been saying since she’d been basically rapping out her words. 

Herminkoni (was that what she said her name was?) began talking again. “Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds the best by far, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad. Anyay, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”

Herpes Motion thus turned around and left, taking Toad-Boy with her.

“Well,” you announced cheerfully. “She was nice.” “Sure,” muttered Ron, reaching for a Treacle Tart. 

“She was right about one thing though,” said Harry, grinning and brushing his hair out of his face. “Gryffindor, by far, is definitely the best house.”

“Who’s Gryffindor?” you squinted your eyes at him. Ron attempted an exasperated face-palm with his left hand (he was still holding the tart in his right). Harry laughed at this, before proceeding to explain the four houses to you.

Gryffindor had been the house Ron’s and Harry’s families had gotten into. The house of the brave, it was known for. Ravenclaw, the house for smart people (you had a feeling you would not be getting into that); Hufflepuff was the house for the loyal and well-meaning. And finally, there was Slytherin. Both Ron and Harry detested the green-and-silver clad house, for it had been the house to pump out the most dark witches and wizards.

“Ah,” you said. “So naturally, we should hate that house, since that was the one Voldemort was – ” “Woah,” interrupted Ron, looking impressed. “You just said his name.” “Why wouldn’t I? It’s just a name. Anyways, I’m guessing that you both want Gryffindor then?”

“Of course!” Ron puffed out his chest. 

“Hey,” Harry began, rubbing your chin. “Have you — ”

Unfortunately, whatever Harry had wanted to ask had been interrupted by the compartment door sliding open again. 

This time, it was a group of three – the ringleader being a sallow-faced, gauntly blonde boy. The other two were giant-sized, goliath looking boys who looked like his bodyguards. And, of course, they were all fixated on you. (But then again, why wouldn’t they be?)

“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train that (Y/n) (L/N)’s in this compartment. So, it’s you, is it?”

“That’s right,” you smiled at him.

His lips twitched into a small smirk. He waved his hand carelessly at the two body-doubles next to him. “This is Crabbe and that’s Goyle. And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

Ron choked on his treacle tart, but you suspected that may have been him trying to disguise a sneer. Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes on Ron.

“Think my name’s funny, do you?” he sneered, causing your hackles to raise immediately. “No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.” 

Ron’s face went pink again and he sunk into his seat. 

Draco Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry, but before he could say something about his family, you cut him off.

“Oi,” you spoke, feeling your jaw clench at the blond boy’s demeanour. “I’d watch what I was saying if I was you, especially considering the crap that’s spewing outta your sewage-system of a mouth.”

Draco Malfoy turned his sharpened gaze toward you. “And I’d be more careful if I was you. You don’t want to make enemies with the wrong people.”

“Same goes for you.” 

You stared down Draco Malfoy. Harry was glancing back and forth between the two of you, and he looked ready to stand up if this altercation escalated.

“You don’t get to come in here and poke fun at us,” you muttered slowly. “Especially, if you want to be on good terms with me.”

His cheeks tinged a faint pink. “Not like I would want to be friends with the likes of you.” He placed the emphasis on ‘you’ the same way you did for ‘me’.

You, Harry and Ron all stood up. 

“I think it’d be best if you left.” you gritted out, disliking the boy less and less by every twitch of his rat-like face.

Unfortunately for you, Malfoy’s rattish face had broken out into a sneer. “You’ll regret making enemies out of me, (L/n). I promise you that much.”

He furiously spun around and out of the carriage, but not before he could shoot you a final scathing look. Crabbe and Goyle chased after him, robes billowing out from behind them.

“What a buffoon,” you huffed angrily.

“Agreed,” said Harry, still glaring at the door.

“I’ve heard of his family before,” said Ron darkly. “They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” “‘Specially if they thought it was the winning side,” added Harry.

The door opened before you could open your mouth. There was Hermit Yeti, yet again, standing at the entrance.

“What has been going on? Why did I just see three boys bolting out of this compartment?” She looked you up and down. “You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!”

“They were the ones starting it – not us!” defended Ron, scowling at her.

“All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” she said sniffly. “And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know that?”

“Thank you,” you interjected, glaring at her on behalf of Ron. “Could you leave now?”

And finally, Herm-onion left.

If you had to guess, it had been only an hour after that when the train had pulled to a stop. You had slipped on your robes, ensuring that they still had your signature wind-swept appearance about them. Ron and Harry were also wearing their school robes now too. The three of you stuffed your pockets with the remaining sweets before you left the train.

Hopping out of the train and onto the station, you were delighted to be met with the familiar, wild face of Hagrid, the giant-man. 

“Firs’-years! Firs-years over here! All right there, (Y/n)?” He beamed at you from under his scraggly beard.

You waved enthusiastically at him. 

The first-years, it looked like, had their own means of reaching the school, which involved travelling in groups of four in a little boat across a lake. You, Harry, Ron and the bushy-haired girl (to your displeasure) took a boat close to the front.

Whilst you did not dislike the girl, you weren’t fond of her tendency to huff or be bossy, especially when she did it toward Ron (which you found she did often). Harry hadn’t done anything to get into her wrong books, and nor vice versa, so they were probably on the most amicable terms between your little trio.

The boats glided in unison across the great body of water, before coming to a stop at the front of the school’s castle. You could hardly hear Toad-Boy’s reunion with his toad (“Trevor”) amongst the excited buzzing in your ears.

The gaggle of first-years came to a stop at the entrance of Hogwarts, a ginormous wooden castle door. Hagrid raised his fist and rapped three times on it. 

The door opened immediately. There was a stern, grey-haired witch standing behind it. She was sifting through the crowd intensely, and her gaze did not linger on your scar like how most peoples’ did.

“The firs’-years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” The door was opened further and you streamed into the Entrance Hall. The entire school was huge, you realised, and was very elaborately decorated – like something you would read in a book. Flaming torches illuminated the corridor. The first-years were pulled into a little room, next to a place where you could hear the rest of the school talking.

It was then you noticed that Ron appeared quite pale under his freckles and that Harry was fiddling with his fingers. In fact, every first-year seemed to be exhibiting some sort of nervous tick, apart from Malfoy, who was rolling his eyes for some reason. 

You drew your eyebrows together in confusion. Should you have been scared too? It wasn’t like they were going to force you to fight each other or anything right? At least, that’s what you hoped. Although, you definitely knew that if they made you fight, you’d win.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and speed free time in your house common room.

She continued giving a debrief of the houses, but as it was something you had already heard from Harry and Ron, it wasn’t anything new. You fidgeted restlessly, wanting to get onto the Sorting already.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” Her eyes lingered on your messy hair and ruffled collar, as one lapel stuck upwards. 

Once she left, you turned to Harry and Ron. “What do they do to get us into these houses? Is it like a test? Based on how you answer, that’s where you get in? Like, ‘what is the square root of sixteen?’”

“That’s probably only good for finding Ravenclaws and non-Ravenclaws though,” said Ron, taking you seriously. “My brothers said it was a test too, though. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

Harry was looking more unsettled by the minute. 

“Hey,” you said, patting his shoulder, mistaking his expression as anxiousness. “Don’t be nervous. I’m sure Ron’s brothers are just messing with us.” “Me too,” confirmed Ron.

“But,” Harry’s green eyes met yours. “A test? I didn’t know we had to do a test. In front of the whole school? I can barely do two spells, how will they sort me with that? I— I didn’t think — I mean, my dad said— I thought it had something to do with a ha –”

“Listen,” you began, patting his shoulder. “That’s already two more spells than I know, and probably most of the first-years too. That Malfoy kid included.” 

You narrowed your eyes at the said blonde boy, before returning them to Harry. “Don’t worry, alright? Test or not, I’m sure we'll all do great. Probably.” 

Beside you, Ron nodded in agreement (although it looked like his skin was also beginning to reach a sickly pale green colour).

“You’re right,” said Harry, and you were pleased to see that he was a fraction less scared than he was a moment ago. Although he did still look a tad bit confused.

Anyways, moving onto more pressing matters. You didn’t bother with ‘smartening yourself up.’ You were already pretty smart enough, in your opinion. Having bested the darkest wizard of the age at a meagre one year of age didn’t come to just anyone, you know?

After a whole debacle with some ghosts or something flying in to greet you before the ceremony, Professor McGonagall entered the room once more. You all trudged in a single-file line into the Great Hall.

You gaped openly at the Great Hall, which looked even bigger than the Entrance. Four long tables were lain across the room, with golden plates and goblets sitting on each. The students were segregated by houses, indicated by the colour of their robes and ties. There were also several candles floating in the air, which was pretty sweet too. Oh, and the roof looked like the sky as well. 

Professor McGongagall placed a three-legged stool in front of school, and then she placed a rusty-looking hat on top of it. You deadpanned when it broke into song, and even more when everyone burst into applause once it finished.

“So, we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron whisper-yelled to you and Harry. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll!” Harry gave him an unsure smile, and said “I tried telling you it was just a weird hat. You threw me off with the test talk.”

Professor McGonagall approached the stool, unravelling a long roll of parchment paper. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

Hannah stumbled from the crowd of first-years and toward the professor. She placed the hat on her head and after a moment of silence, the hat shouted out “HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table on the right, with the yellow-and-black clad students, the house of Hufflepuff, cheered and hollered as Hannah went to join them.

‘Bones, Susan’ went up next and she too went to Hufflepuff. ‘Boot, Terry’ went to Ravenclaw, and ‘Brown Lavender’ became the first new Gryffindor. The cheering from the red table was definitely the loudest, especially when right after ‘Bulstrode Millicent’ was sorted in Slytherin and all she got was only a polite and semi-subdued applause from her new house.

A few more people went, and then, so did ‘Granger, Hermione’ (so that was her name) who sat on the stool for a precariously long period of time before being sent to Gryffindor. Ron groaned. Toad-Boy (Longbottom, Neville!) got Gryffindor too, but somehow, he was on the stool for even longer than Hermione.

You were raising your hand to scratch at the itch in your ear when your name was called. 

As you stepped forward, the students in the Hall started to whisper loudly, just as they had done at the station.

“(L/n), did she say?” “The (Y/n) (L/n)?” Those comments did not help the rising ego blooming inside of you. You swaggered over the stool and sat down. Your fingers delicately gripped the brim of the hat. The fabric felt ragged and old underneath your fingertips. You brought the Sorting Hat down toward your –

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat had barely scraped the fly-away hairs on your head when it shrieked out. 

The Great Hall was silent for a few, stunned moments, taken aback by your instantaneous sorting. You stared back at them with wide eyes, darting downwards to look at Harry and Ron. They were wide-eyed too, before the dam of silence was broken, and they beamed gigantic smiles at you, alongside the entirety of the Gryffindor table erupting into cheers – louder cheers than for any of the people before you. 

You felt a warm glow in your chest. You looked around the table, and saw many friendly faces. Percy the Prefect had dived over the table (almost) to shake your hand vigorously and you could hear the Weasley twins jeering “we got (L/n)! We got (L/n)!” Even the resident Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, was congratulating you for your placement by patting your arm, which felt oddly like you were being doused in a bucket of cold water.

At the High Table, Hagrid was grinning and gave you the thumbs up of approval. Dumbledore, as you recognised him from the chocolate frog card, was up there too with a faint twinkle in his eye.

The only notable people left up, really, were Harry and Ron. 

Harry had been called first.

The Sorting Hat was sat upon his head for what seemed to be the better portion of an eternity. For the first time since your arrival, you felt a jolt of fear. What if you and your friends would be separated into different houses? You didn’t to be stuck in a full with only Neville and Hermione, everyday. What would happen if you woke up to find Neville’s slimy toad on your pillowcase or —

You felt a surge of joy and relief, as after a minute or two, the hat declared “GRYFFINDOR!” and the Great Hall erupted in cheers for Harry. You clapped your hands and smiled widely, looking for him among the sea of red and gold.

He took a seat beside you and you high-fived him.

“Nice to see you here, Potter, Harry,” you said, changing your voice to mimic McGonagall’s.

“Nice to see you too, the (Y/n) (L/n),” he snickered, mocking the way the students had reacted when they’d heard your name.

You grinned at him.

Ron joined you rather quickly, even though he was one of the last people to get sorted. You were delighted at this, as it meant you could still be with them for the rest of your Hogwarts years, if what Professor McGonagall had said about your house being akin to family, was true.

Dumbledore rose to his feet, “Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!” He sat down, and as he did, food magically appeared in front of you.

“Is he – a bit mad?” Harry asked you uncertainly.

“Probably,” you said, shrugging, reaching for the roast potatoes.

You scarfed down your food, listening to the conservation around you. You cheered when the dessert had come, causing the people around you to chuckle, quietly – except for Ron, who had gotten to the apple pie before you could.

You wrestled Ron for a slice of said pie, and were happily munching on it when you glanced back up to the High Table. Hagrid was drinking from his goblet, and Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were in a deep discussion with each other. Another Professor, in a purple turban, was fiddling nervously with his cutlery, tapping his fork against the edge of the table. He was speaking with a professor with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin.

The teacher, as though he could sense your presence, glanced straight past the Turban-Professor and bore his black eyes into yours – a sharp, hot pain seared within your scar, and you let out a hiss of pain.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked you, foreheading furrowing in concern.

“N-nothing.” The pain had left as quickly as it had come. How strange. You got the feeling that the hooked-nose teacher did not like you very much.

“Who's that teacher, the greasy-haired one?” you pointed at him, not discretely.

Harry stifled a laugh. “That’s Snape. No one likes him, they say he wants to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but every year he gets stuck as the Potions one instead. My dad doesn’t like him at all – actually, my entire family doesn’t really either.”

“Why’s that?” you questioned.

“Not sure,” said Harry, but he scratched his cheek nervously. “They won’t tell me.”

Deciding not to press him further, you continued to watch Snape a little longer. He never looked at you again, though, after that.

Once the desserts had all faded away, Dumbledore had announced his final speech and conducted a very tragic school school orchestra. He wiped his eyes, from pain or sadness or you guessed maybe even both, when they had finished. “Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

Powering your legs through the sheer force of the food you’d guzzled down, you followed Percy up to the Gryffindor Tower. With horror, you realised that you’d have to climb an average of seven staircases everyday, simply just to get to your bed. 

Anyways, the entrance to the Gryffindor headquarters was through a painting of a Fat Lady and she flipped open when you told her the password, Caput Draconis. You scrambled through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. 

You lazily trudged up the stairs, and without even bothering to notice that your trunk had been transported up to your dorm room, you face-planted onto your bed and fell into a heavy sleep.

Perhaps you had eaten a bit too much, because that night, you had a very strange dream. 

You were staring into a mirror, desperately trying to tug off a purple turban from your head. When did you get a turban? How did you get a turban? The fabric of the turban grew tighter, making you feel a sharp pain in your skull as the turban squeezed your head like a vice. You wondered how you got into this mess in the first place.

Furiously pulling, pulling, at the turban finally caused it to unravel and expose your hair. With a start, as you glanced back to the mirror, you discerned that your face had, horrifyingly enough, taken on the face of Snape. His own black, empty eyes stared back at you. 

You scrambled back, leaping away from his cockroach-like eyes, only to find that, for some reason, there was a bottomless abyss behind you. You fell down, down, down into a pit. Closing your eyes as your head thrummed painfully, you braced yourself for the impact. 

A bright flash of green light, and a high, cruel laugh jerked you awake. 

Oddly enough, however, when you’d gone back to sleep, you hadn’t remembered the dream at all. You did question, however, the next morning why when you closed your eyes, all you saw was a luminous, green light in the shape of a lightning-bolt scar.

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡  　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

→ Author's Note: Hello my lovelies, welcome to ch 1.2 yippee!! Sorry that its super long but we’re pretty already halfway through the ch 1 portion of the series XD — I’m guessing now that it's gonna reach about 1.4 or 1.5 but I could also be widely incorrect :P Anyways that’s all so catch ya next time :))) thank you

Time for this chapters analysis ~ You will have probs noticed one of the most canon-divergent parts of this series so far is that instead of the same dilemma Harry faced when he was getting sorted (Slytherin vs Gryffindor), as soon as the hat touched the little hairs upon your head, you were sorted into Gryffindor. During this chapter, and a little of the last one (but mostly this one), I've kinda been subtly trying to hint that the Reader is really quite arrogant and brazen. Rather than Harry as the chosen one, where he longs for a quiet and normal life, Reader dives headfirst into her role. She shamelessly self-promotes her lightning-scar and doesn’t try to hide it – she knows she’s special and she feeds into that!!  She’s kinda like James Potter in that regard >.< and therefore I want her to kind of be epitome of a Gryffindor (courageous and arrogant) and maybe, maybe not, a parallel to Draco Malfoy (who also got sorted into Slytherin ASAP, and is ambitious and arrogant) hehe → that’s also why Reader and Malfoy get more aggressive even more quickly than Harry did in canon… Anyways!!! This is the briefest hint at what I have in store for this series, and we’ll see how Reader’s arrogance courageousness deviates Harry Potter from canon.  Tbh I’m planning to make the reader Percy Jackson-coded (with the sass and reckless bravery and loyalty and what not) and maybe just the slightest bit Gojo-coded hehe,  I know that it's not that clear rn lol but I’ll work my way into it hopefully… Anyways, thanks again! :D Series Masterlist

Taglist (thanks for asking!): @kaverichauhan

[timegays]

Swap au?? Yes.

Character stuff under the cut-

Mischa-Jane doe: pretty much everything I’ve talked about in my JohnDoe!mischa posts (separate au). Head rebuilt by parts of his phone. No memories except for the faint knowledge that he was in love with someone (doesn’t remember who tho).

Constance-Noel: still sweet but a little less of a pushover. Feels like she should be more and wants to move to Hollywood and become a star. Defends herself more and doesn’t take bullshit but is very friendly if you are. 

Noel-Constance: ricky’s friend in this au- the parents putting pressure on him to “fit it” in kicked up a ton here. More to himself because he’s scared of what people will think of him. Just wants to be able to go full out on who he is and wants to be. (Still wants to be Monique). A lot more shy and less sassy but will not hesitate to defend his friends. 

Penny-Ricky: went nonverbal one day when she was younger and hasn’t spoken since. People tend to baby her and push her to the side because of this which makes her upset. She has a lot to “say” but nobody will listen to her. (Good thing she has ezra but that’s it).

Ricky-ocean: he always felt like he had to be perfect to make up for who he was. Him being unable to reach that perfection has made him a little bitter and gets angry when he feels someone his challenging the fact he’s perfect. Is a more of a teachers pet and secretly wants to just be himself cut his strive for perfection won’t let him.

ocean-Mischa: tired of her parents and everyone not caring about how hard she tries she’s sorta just- given up. Gets into trouble a lot to get some semblance of attention which she wouldn’t get otherwise. Still a know it all but is alot more jerky and angry about it. Acts like she doesn’t care about anyone when she really just wants to be loved. 

[maskyartist]

Just some random thoughts while I try n make this a thing, gotta put em on paper to see if they make sense yknow?

Okay now m thinkin of the implications so-

The thing about my Roman Lives AU is that Neo is also still alive. Roman never saw her body so he never assumed her dead, never count your bodies n all that. He had hope, a reason to keep going, a will to live in her potentially being alive.

That’s why he works with Ruby. That’s why he’s so willing to try at this good guy crap. For just a chance at finding her. It’s a low chance, but it’s something and that’s better then nothing.

But if Neo dies…all bets are off. Because that is Ruby’s fault. And Cinder’s. Cinder for letting them play pawns, and Ruby for pulling the trigger.

Now it’s just revenge that fuels him. A need to get back at those who hurt the only light he had in this shitty world. His star was snuffed out and he won’t let the world forget it.

He keeps Neo’s necklaces, along with keeping Hush on his person. He can duel wield with the best of em just fine, and a shield is always welcome.

Tbh I don’t think he ends up really picking a side, or at least he doesn’t fully assign himself to Cinder’s team. But he does work with her. Tries to take her down from the inside because lord knows he can’t defeat her with those Maiden powers of hers. She at least fills him in on what the goal here is now, and that’s all Roman needs to know.

Stealing relics? Starting an endless war? He doesn’t give a shit. If it gets him closer to that stupid brat who took away his spark he’ll do whatever.

He’s still the kingpin we know and love. His connections spread far in Remnant, he even had contacts in Atlas and Vacuo. They’re not entirely safe no matter where they go.

Roman and Neo are similar enough that I fully believe he’d go down that revenge path just like her, with just that same, If not more narrowed in, tunnel vision

In Ever After I like to think Roman’s semblance does evolve like Neo’s did, but in a different way. Instead of creating illusions, he can speak things into life and command people. Similar to Sherbet’s semblance, he just doesn’t need to mention how he sees them. Simply says it and it’ll be there.

All he has to do is say “Oh, Neo?” And she’ll be right by his side, smiling oh so sweetly at him.

And with his commands, it’s less like Marrow’s “stay” and more whatever he says, as long as he’s focused on one person, they must obey. Their bodies will follow his command and if it’s a mental thing, their brains will shift to make it make sense. His semblance is strong in Ever After. He’s so powerful there. He can finally get what he wants.

…he just wishes it didn’t all feel so damn empty.

why didn’t I think about an AU where Neo dies n Roman lives instead?

[howlingday]

Ok I'm gonna read though everything you have in the Pokemon Au to make sure I get everything so I leave the Kyurem and Jaune stuff alone. Side note is my Kyurem and Jaune stuff Canon to the Au or is it own thing now? Regardless actual ask now. What if Team Jnpr somehow got their semeblanes swapped?(Blame Nora) I will let you decide who gets what semblance.

Far as I can tell, Kyurem and Jaune will interact in the future.

----------------------------------------------------

Jaune: (Clanks as he stumbles about, Covered head to toe in metal)

Pyrrha: (Plugs in charger, Zapped) OOH~! (Sighs) Great. It's going to be all day with this, isn't it?

Ren: (Somehow unaffected) Nora, what are you doing?

Nora: (Squatting, Glowing) I'M GOING TO FIGHT THE MOON!

[mephiles97]

Murder Drones AU/Fanfic: "Through The Looking Glass"

AO3 summary: What happens... When you look through a mirror and find out the world is reversed? Is it like looking at the same world but completely different at the same time? Is it like you're looking into a window to a different world? What happens if the world as you knew it was completely flipped upside down? What happens if you look in that mirror and the same person staring back at you... Isn't you anymore? But is someone completely different living life in your shoes on the other side of that mirror?

Beau Doorman is what he'd call an average worker drone... Except maybe not so average by the time you factor in the weird dreams and the crazy over the top inventions. Okaaaaay maybe not as average or as normal as he thinks he is. Any semblance he had to normal flew right out the window with the reappearance of the colony's local drifter, a fateful scavenging trip, and three new friends haunted by their ghosts of the past. With the reemergence of a terrifying program from the past, everyone finds themselves being thrown into a story about found family, loss, grief, and recovering from that grief.

Information about this AU and a link to its fic's first chapter below the cut!

"Through The Looking Glass" (abbreviated to LG from here on) is my personal take on a swap AU! In this AU, MD canon as you know it has been taken and flipped upside down or perhaps more aptly, run through a cracked mirror. This is a character swap AU but the characters and roles have been shuffled around in deliberately wacky and wild combos and not every character/role has a clean 1:1 swap or direct mirror to their canon role

Since LG is a swap AU, this is set to retell all eight (yes, I am aware only seven are out at the time of writing) episodes of Murder Drones but with the swapped characters. Do note this is not just a 1:1 retelling of canon and some scenes are entirely new or have been twisted upside down and all around compared to how they went down in the actual episodes to the point they're almost unrecognizable unless you notice the roots of the scene

As you can see from the AO3 summary I copypasted... This AU stars Beau Doorman as our main character, taking the place of Uzi's role. He was born and raised in Outpost-3 by his parents Alice and Khan Doorman. Unlike canon Nori... Alice did not meet the business end of nanite acid in this AU and has lived to the present day/the fic's start. She is well known around the colony for being a bit of a menace with her hobby of making all kinds of scrap inventions and weaponry

Beau is joined by his childhood best friends Vivian (V) and Thad who happen to be the two most popular kids and the power couple of the school. He has also managed to befriend the mysterious borderline feral drifter named Uzi that's been randomly turning up at his colony for months now before disappearing without a trace again. Nobody knows why that mysterious purple haired girl seems to crawl around on all fours or make warbles and chirping sounds... Or why her systems are seemingly constantly running at feverishly high temperatures

There's also those three disassembly drones that haunt the vertical corpse graveyard outside Outpost-3. Let's take a look at them now, shall we?

Serial Designation B (Braiden) is the appointed leader of the disassembly drone squad and the pilot of their crashed landing pod but he's... sort of known for not feeling much like a leader. He struggles with a lot of fears over failing the squad and letting the people around him down. In fact, he worries so much about letting people down he felt bad when he tried to scare off a certain worker drone he had befriended for their safety...

Serial Designation C (Cyn) is the fastest but physically weakest of the squad due to her body and core being prone to malfunctions. She has good days where she can move about normally but on her worst days she is prone to motor malfunctions as well as voice box malfunctions leading to her voice skipping words or getting stuck. She seems to harbor a lot of guilt over some ghost of the past...

Serial Designation D (Doll) is the strongest of the squad and in a way the secondary leader because B asks for her input or suggestions often when it comes to planning or hunting tactics. She carries the weight of the squad on her back most days and tries to keep B and C from falling apart on her, but she seems to know a lot more about things than she lets on...

None of the three seem willing to mention or talk about the missing fourth drone of their group... None of the three seem willing to discuss the mysterious three-pronged symbol that's popping up on the visor of their new worker friend either. Gee, I wonder why they look so scared...?

Visit the link below to read the first chapter of the AU! Do note this AU is still ongoing so it's not finished yet but I am working on it and post chapters as they're done. Also! My ask box is open if you want to throw a question or two my way about the AU (or my other AUs!)

(And one more quick note: LG here was the first fic I started writing if we don't count two quick shorts I did so the earlier chapters read a bit roughly. If you can bear it, I swear the formatting and wording gets better in the later/newer chapters now that I've had some practice. I will one day go back and edit the earlier chapters of LG to make it easier to swallow but I haven't done that yet at the time of writing this so you have been warned)

[tanjirou-no-au]

I've only now just realized that my asks have been turned off.

WHOOPS!

Anyways ask box is open. Feel free to ask me about KNY and BNHA.

AU ideas, possible role swaps, powergenning (quirk ideas, Cursed Techniques, Semblances and weapons from RWBY, Parahuman superpowers, maybe Nen ideas, but I need to get more familiar with those)

[greydoesthearts]

The Awakening (Swap AU)

TW: Henrik being weird (like usual in this au), emetophobia at the end.

-

Marvin groaned and ran a hand through his long hair as he stared at the phone in his hand. Ten percent left on his battery, and the message that he'd missed his departing train to Ireland by mere minutes.

His breath curled out into the air in front of him and he pulled a long jacket around his body. He could stand here, wait around for a while, or sit inside where it was nice and warm but also... crowded.

Being around people didn't sit right with him. When he was this angry, he wanted nothing more than to go burn a building to the ground, or light fire to some poor dead grass. Neither of those things would lend him any luck in catching the next train in time, but they made him feel better, like a high of sorts.

Ugh.

Maybe he should just risk it, take a taxi to the middle of nowhere and do something about his frustration. Then he'd be in a much better mood to deal with whatever bullshit excuse Shannon wanted to throw at him about not seeing his daughter this week when he got back home.

Fuck it. He stepped up to the curb and started up the app to order a ride before his phone shut off when a car pulled in next to the very curb he was standing on.

Marvin raised a brow, then groaned again as his phone shut off in his hand while the driver of the vehicle rolled down his window.

"Excuse me, sir!" The driver called in a thick foreign accent, face obscured by shadows. "Do you know how to get to the hotel from here?"

"Oh, uhh..." Marvin muttered and stuffed his dead phone away in his pocket. Why couldn't people just leave him alone? "No, sorry, I'm not from around here. GPS not working?" He pointed at the very device he could see inside of the vehicle in suspicion.

The driver chuckled. "It does, but I'm terrible at following these things. Much better with spoken word or physical directions. Say, you headed anywhere?"

"Not in particular," Marvin shrugged. And that was a half-truth. "Was waiting for my ride, actually, so if you'll excuse me."

He stepped back from the curb, turning with his arms crossed over his chest and flicking his thumb across the insides of his fingers a few times like he was activating a lighter. A small flame sparked from the action which he used the heat from to warm his hands.

Behind him, he heard the car shut off and the door open before fancy shoes clicked on the pavement nearby and stopped.

"You were, huh?" the driver asked and Marvin halted in his tracks. Why was this guy so persistent? "Well, what if I drive you to this nowhereland? I ask no payment but the company you may provide--"

Marvin actually laughed out loud at that, turning slightly back toward the man and peering at his confused--and familiar--face. He barely paused. "You don't want my company, trust me. I don't keep well trapped with people I don't like."

"Aww, you don't like me? But you don't even know me!" He sounded genuinely... a little bit hurt. Marvin wasn't falling for it.

He laughed again, let his flame die out, and turned his body entirely back toward the strange man, getting a better look. Something was so familiar about him, and tied with the accent, he felt like he should just know this, but it escaped him. The man didn't even shift under his gaze, though, so that had to count for something, right? It provided some semblance of... innocence wasn't the right word, was it?

It finally clicked who the man was; he tried not to let the realisation show on his own face. Bar news television came in clutch this time.

"See, the problem there is that I really don't care that I do or don't know you. Your vibes are truly awful." Marvin taunted him. His phone was dead, and he still didn't want to go inside the station where there were at least a dozen people, but he had a feeling he could get this man weak. He deserved what he had coming. "Terrible."

The man chuckled, one side of his mouth quirking up slightly more than the other. "My vibes? I'm afraid I'm entirely unfamiliar with that concept."

"Just means you're a weird, weird man, that's all," Marvin shrugged again. "But, hey, listen. If you really wanna drive me to a secondary location, at least take me out to dinner first, yeah?"

"Dinner first?" The man said, finally catching on, a frown overcoming his previous grin. "Ah, well, you got me."

Marvin beamed with pride for only a moment before his expression turned sour. "My only question now is how the fuck you're out here, in the open, trying to pick off any poor unfortunate soul you come across and yet... you haven't been caught."

Henrik approached him carefully. "Tis a good question, there. I just- don't think it's the right one. That question should probably be why I chose you despite how brilliant you seem."

Marvin's lip curled as he moved up in front of him, the top of his head only reaching Marvin's chin, and patted his back as if they were old friends.

He pulled his coat around his body again, resisting the urge to reach out, grab the t-shirt peeking through Henrik's open coat, and set fire to the fucker. But all signs pointed to that being a bad idea if he ever wanted to get home. Still, he couldn't stop the fidgeting flick of his thumb against his fingers, causing flames to hurdle toward the ground and die out.

"I don't care why I was targeted, no," he emphasised and Henrik grinned. He narrowed his eyes in return.

"Not at all a little bit curious?" Henrik asked, tilting his head. "Because it's very interesting how I've come to know you at all." Marvin shifted his feet in place and looked away ever-so-slightly. "There it is. You are interested, aren't you?"

"Fuck off back to wherever you came, man," his own accent came out stronger as he spoke this time. "You're not even worth the effort..."

He tried to walk away, finally regarding the inside of the station as the best place for him to not lose his entire cool, but the hand on his coat sleeve ruined all of that collected cool and he lashed out, the palm of his other hand fiery and as skilled as he preferred; not very.

The fire burned through Henrik's coat quickly, yet the only indication of pain was a slight hardness in his eyes as he stared Marvin down in cold blood, then tackled him over. Even though his frame was smaller, he did the damage well enough as he watched Marvin's head hit the concrete and his eyes rolled back into his skull.

He was entirely too quick and quiet to have alerted anyone inside of the station, and from the windowless entrance no one could see them, or him as he dragged Marvin's body back to his car.

When he woke up, Marvin's head was killing him. He didn't remember what had happened, it was all so fast...

That man. Aw, fuck, what was his name? The fucking-- the murderer... Henrik, that was it!

Whoever, or whatever, the fuck he was, he must have done something to him. Well, he did, but Marvin couldn't remember what. Couldn't? Yeah, that was about right. His brain felt empty, all things considered. All he'd wanted to do was get home, then there was the fuzzy conversation, the stark realisation, and then nothing.

His hands burned like he'd used his magic recently. If he had, that meant he couldn't have been knocked out anymore than ten minutes, but the intensity called more for five.

He hadn't yet opened his eyes, but he didn't think he was moving or being moved, so he wasn't in a car being kidnapped or anything. He just felt nauseated and like everything was spinning, probably from the hit to the head.

Is that what happened?

"Fuck..." he put his arm over his face and cursed, but it came out a garble, like the word was stuck in his throat, choking on it. He coughed to get rid of the feeling, then finally opened his eyes as something wet dribbled down his front, and wiping his mouth and looking.

Wherever he was may have been dark, but the blood on his hand was darker.

Marvin sat straight up, trying to get any more blood out of his mouth by spitting, but it just kept coming and coming, and he was choking and choking, until he suddenly felt the need to throw up, emitting a ton of, practically black, blood onto the floor in front of him with a sickening splash. And that caused more sick to rise, until his stomach was empty and his mouth needed to be washed extremely badly.

He spat a few more times messily to make sure he was clear, then laid back down on-- it was a fucking couch, fake leather creaking beneath his body, he noticed. But he couldn't give a shit. Weakness was setting in and his eyes refused to stay open any longer.

Quickly, before he could fully pass out, he lifted his hand back to his mouth and touched the inside. His tongue... was...

His tongue was fucking gone.

[mezzomorendo]

- ; new au

wrong actor upon fate's stage

This is going to be a catch-all for any roleswap AUs. I have two so far, listed below.

In the first alternate timeline, Sephiroth and Zack's lives are swapped around. Zack is the general, Sephiroth the Second-Class. As things are slightly warped in this world, here are some more of the changes.

Zack gained his x-shaped scar in the war from a stray thrown blade.

He fights with the buster sword still. Angeal instead fights with Masamune, which is passed down to Sephiroth.

Zack's natural charisma and kindness make him an easy poster boy for SOLDIER and drives up their recruitment rates. Many and more aspire to be just like him - a sparkling, classic hero who braves it all with a smile. He's featured on a lot of propaganda and frequently is in the limelight. He's well loved by his subordinates and while he doesn't have a specific protege, he does take time to train other SOLDIERs when he can.

Much like my corruption verse, his madness takes a different form. He still burns Nibelheim to the ground, but plays it off as an accident. He becomes calculating and emotionally manipulative and won't show his true colors until he needs to. He still doesn't have much patience for long games, but he does keep his cards close to get closer to those he wishes to suffer. His goal is to make those feel the same as he did - to rip the rug out from their lives and prove that the world is devoid of warmth and kindness.

His breakdown is caused less by him realizing he's a Cetra and more that he has no idea who he is anymore. He finds records of Shinra raising him to have the personality he has now. They meticulously treated him with what was necessary to make him a gentle person, a kind boy-next-door type that they could market. He realized he was a product.

He also learns that many of his accolades weren't even real. He was gaslit for many years of his life into thinking he had all these achievements and all these things that he had done, only to learn they weren't even real. The sudden shock to his mind - that not only was his identity fake, but his achievements were too - ultimately shattered his perception of the world. Suddenly, no one actually loved him. No one actually cared about him. He was only shown kindness to make him a perfect tool for marketing. That realization broke him and turned him into a monster grieving for what he longed was real and clawing to find some semblance of reality.

In the second alternate timeline, Zack mentors under Genesis. He is still incredibly excitable, only exacerbated by Genesis encouraging theatrics and bombastic attitudes.

Zack fights with a saber instead of the buster sword, and as such his fighting style changes. He focuses more on speed in this universe so much so that he's often a blur on the battlefield. This combined with this natural energy make him absolutely exhausting to fight.

His magic still isn't great, but that is part of why he enjoys spending time with Genesis. He eventually learns to control materia better but prefers enhancement magic to elemental magic.

Because he's directly under Genesis, he tries to talk Genesis down from starting a war with Shinra. He cares for him deeply and sees Genesis as a hero in his own right, regardless of his physical status. He could be persuaded to join Genesis' war.

[baskeigh-ball]

ive read your mind swap au as well as some of the asks, and now im imagining a version where they dont swap neurodivergencies per se, but DO swap sensory issues, and like, i know thats not at all how that works (im autistic myself lmao) but THINK OF THE POSSIBILITIES!!! raph gets mad so much easier because he feels so mUCH MORE, donnie feels practically nothing compared to usual (e.g - he has an itch, and when he scratches, he gets annoyed about how he jUST BEARLEY FEELS IT!!)

im not gonna write any more cuz i dont jave time rn, BUT PLEASE, DO YOU SEE IT. CAN YOU SEE MY VISION

YES this is exactly my struggle with this au gjghskg

There's so many potential scenarios either way, it's really hard to just stick with one version. However, I want this au to have some semblance of consistency, so I won't really touch on the other routes this idea could go (maybe i could leave that up to u guys, idk). I might revisit it in the future, but not now bc I already have like 4-5 different things I'm juggling atm lol

[fortune-maiden]

Random TGCF AU of the Day

This started as PX ramblings in the original vs the revision but between my want for some kind of SWD & PX relationship and a certain realization about PX’s revised backstory…

Pei Xiu vs the Black Water Arc

Pei Xiu’s revised backstory is pretty tragic. A bright shining star and kind happy person, Pei Xiu’s life is ruined when he joins a martial arts tournament and shows up a general’s son that was favored to win the thing. His family is convicted on false charges, his parents and younger siblings are exiled somewhere and PX himself is pressed into the army, the only one of them the right age for it.

He then spends the rest of his life doing whatever it takes to move up the ranks so he can get save his family culminating in his massacre of the Banyue kingdom… and his reward is finding out they’d all died years ago :D

(and also Banyue’s death)

I imagine canonically he gets some semblance of healing in the form of a good mentor and CO in Pei Ming (not enough to maybe not murder innocents in an incredibly convoluted plot to save his girlfriend but well…) but with a backstory like that I feel like there’s a certain scholar from Fugu he might also feel some kinship with

So he does his homework. Pei Xiu is smart-ish and puts together some pieces about the scholar from Fugu and a certain low key ghost king and hatches a plan.

Rather than the convoluted murder plot, he’ll get the ghost king to save Banyue. And in exchange he’ll be the ghost king’s eyes and ears in heaven and help him with whatever evil plots he’s plotting

he_xuan.exe promptly stops working.

On the one hand this is the most absurd thing he’s had to deal with in centuries and he has half a mind to kill Pei Ming’s idiot descendant on the spot. PX only figured out that he’s the scholar from Fugu, nothing about the fate swap or the earth master, and he’d prefer to keep it that way.

On the other hand, He Xuan does, in fact, feel bad for Banyue, and PX has three things going for him:

1. As Pei Ming’s protege, he has an easier in with Shi Wudu

2. He’s a better (read: less of a dick about it) source of funds than Hua Cheng

3. He’s good with the bone fish