Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Saint Spell's Love Guide to the Magical Student's Handbook (Visual Novel)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Luca Michaelides/Main Character (Saint Spell's Love Guide), Bugbear (Saint Spell's Love Guide)/Main Character (Saint Spell's Love Guide), Luca Michaelides/Bugbear (Saint Spell's Love Guide)
Characters: Luca Michaelides, Bugbear (Saint Spell's Love Guide), Main Character (Saint Spell's Love Guide)
Additional Tags: bear with me pls i had to create my own charas and ships tag, me when i write the 4th fic of a very niche media (sob), Time Loop, me when the timeloop timeloops, one million timeloops attack, idfk what other tags to put
Summary:
Wednesday. Study of Malediction class. Finally. That's what you've been waiting for.
The first thing you did entering the class was look at the far back, trying to spot a certain dark-haired man. You feared that, for some inexplicable reason, he wouldn't be there. But fortunately, your fear was mistaken; he was very much present, writing down in his signature notebook.
With a reassured sigh, you quickly scurried to the last row, sitting down at the seat beside him. Like last time, he didn't notice you, too focused on whatever he was scribbling down- but you already knew it was all about his daily life.
And you hoped he would write about you, in this run as well.
(Or; a time loop is worth the price to save Luca...right?)
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mcu peter parker vs miguel o'hara is nepotism baby vs other much weirder nepotism baby
NO JOKE JAKLDSF
Yeah, I make fun of MCU Peter, but Miguel "I got scouted early and especially picked to advance quickly through the megacorp and recieved personal attention from the VP because I'm just that great" O'Hara is a) so much worse and b) so much more annoying about it. Bright side is Miguel steals Evil Corp from his dad and then proceeds to vindictively run it into the ground. Socialist king. Peter take notes.
I don't know why Miguel didn't go IMMEDIATELY to the tabloids with the "bastard son of Evil Corp VP tried to addict his son to drugs" story, but maybe Miguel prefers direct action and takes care of his problems himself (kill his dad). Miguel's story arc involves being a member of Evil Corp and trying to save lives, becomes a cult leader and has Marx forcibly dictated to him by Thor worshippers as he tries to escape yet another guy trying to smack him with a DCMA claim, and then engages in praxis by killing capitalists and neoliberals. Great character arc over the series where becomes better and also somehow a lot worse.
Anyway, I think in a time travel situation Peter would have a conspiracy theory that Miguel is an immortal vampire who is secretly using Tony's genetics laboratory to make everybody else into vampires (Miguel has red eyes and fangs in the comics, because he was made in 1994 and he is fantastic). In 2099 Mobius is the patron saint of several small Eastern European villages and the vast majority of Finland, so Miguel takes this as a compliment. He goes by Miguel Ojeda, because he hates all three of his parents.
I have actual legitimate theories for Miguel's appearance in ITSV but I think the funniest possibility is that Miguel involves himself in inter-dimension saving, but the minute a portal opens up back to 2099 (probably 2/3ds of the way through this fake movie or comic) he walks straight through and goes back home, leaving everybody else to do all the work. This happened in the comics. Everybody extends sympathy that he lives in a dystopia. He thinks everybody else lives in an unlivable hellpit because their universes contain libertarianism. And/or smartphones, much in the same way if I stepped inside a utopia without internet I would turn around and walk right out. Somebody tries to explain democracy to him, which he also finds statistically and scientifically inefficient. They should have Doom as a "president" like in 2099. He makes the trains run on time.
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Day 17
Screaming because I'm definitely going to hyper-fixate and draw these until I burn out.
Tried to make the colors work, but neither red nor black really looked amazing with the drawing, so I just went with red and trusted the process.
I'm definitely writing Shads into the story more because he deserves to be more than just a one-off-never-seen-again-random-boss-character.
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"Crimson" for Blackwall & Cole?
HI RO THANK YOU I was saving this one for a special occasion........ of Pain™
For @dadrunkwriting
WC: 478
CW: Suicidal ideation, self-harm
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The blade skips off his whetstone and cuts into his arm. Cursing, he drops the stone and puts aside the blade. He has been clumsy and stupid. How many years has he sat, sharpening his steel with that stone? Celestine black, the best in Orlais. He lent it to Cassandra once, until she returned it in anger.
He stands, watching the blood pool crimson on his forearm, snaking to his elbow, dripping into the straw on the floor of the stable. He’ll want to wrap it soon. It’s deep.
He stares at the red, how vibrant it is. The pain hasn’t hit. He grits his teeth; he wants that thick, sharp cut to sting, angry and mean.
“It’s bleeding bad.”
He closes his eyes. That infernal half-boy, the one with flaxen hair and empty, watery eyes, is behind him suddenly, watching with a hungry stare.
“So what if it is?” Blackwall snarls at him.
The boy ducks under his floppy hat. He might be staring at his feet. His hands hang limply at his side. Blackwall wishes Lady Thalia had not let him stay. He speaks too many truths from his fevered mind.
“It’s not an accident.” Cole speaks as though it were a question, but Blackwall knows it isn’t. “You wanted the blade to hit. Why?”
Fury stirs within him. What does the boy know, about guilt and shame? About prices to be paid? About the longing that twists and twists inside to something ugly, blossoming every time he beholds a spirited auburn-haired girl climb the many stone steps to the Commander’s tower?
“In full view,” Cole whispers, cocking his head toward the barn entrance. They gaze upward at Cullen’s office door together.
After a long moment, Cole says, “I can help.”
Blackwall wrenches away. “I don’t want any of your help.”
Cole shies, as skittish as the horses. “I’m sorry. No. I don’t mean that. I mean… I know where the medical tents are. I watch a lot. Some bandages would—”
“Get out of my sight.” Blackwall’s voice is cold, like a captain’s orders.
The boy stares at him helplessly. Blackwall hinks of another night, another boy, the fear in his eyes as he ran down the tree-covered lane.
He feels sick. His voice falters, goes low. “Please.”
Tears glisten on Cole’s pale face in the firelight. He waves his hand in the air, once, a long, slow stroke. Then he walks away, tattered shoes catching on the floorboards as he goes.
Blackwall looks down. His arm is covered in red, but the wound is gone.
He feels an unspeakable grief — the one thing he wanted, ripped from him again.
He sits, picks up the whetstone. Celestine black, the best in Orlais. He reaches for the sword, sees himself in the reflection of the blade. The beard hides nothing. He wonders how he ever fooled anyone.
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