3 Works in Fics That Make My Brain Rot
Listing Works
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with these two hands (build an altar) by Mook_aron
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
16 Jan 2023
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Summary
When Midoriya Izuku finds an altar buried in the woods, he really should leave it alone. It’s old and it’s faded— the dark stones are weather-worn, pockmarks from the flow of water over time.
An abandoned altar meant gods who had been abandoned.
(And maybe, Izuku finds this too sad to ignore)
With soft fingers and keen eyes, Izuku begins to strip the rocks of dirt and mould. Even though it is evening and the shadows dip low— the altar is warm beneath his hands.
It feels like change.
(American gods inspired au! Updates once a week! Author attempts (and usually fails lmao) to reply to every comment!)
Temporary hiatus yall im tired af
(If you see this fic anywhere else than AO3, it has been stolen! Do not repost my work! If you see this fic posted anywhere else, please let me know!)
Series
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one flesh, one heart, one soul by miss_nighteye (terryh) for sanguiinem
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
30 Oct 2022
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Summary
“This is what happens when you dance with dragons” Tomura chastises him as the flames lick at his wound, sealing it in blood.
“Shut up.”
“Speaking of” he adds, almost as an afterthought. “Do you know why it’s called a dance, Izuku?”
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In which Midoriya Izuku is Lucerys Velaryon, Shigaraki Tomura is Aemond Targaryen, and episode 1x10 goes just a little differently. (House of the Dragon AU)
[Written for the Shigadeku Halloween Week 2022 - Prompt: Alternate Universe] -
of poppies and pomegranate seeds by AGlassRoseNeverFades
Fandoms: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
01 Mar 2019
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Summary
She’s nervous. That’s new. She never gets nervous, at least not about things like this. The behavioral profiler in her wants to examine this feeling, run her fingers over it like running one’s tongue over a toothache. No time for that now. The boy in the bed has her full attention at the moment, frail-looking in his hospital nightgown. He shouldn’t seem so frightening.
“Will, I’m Special Agent Abigail Hobbs,” she introduces herself. “And this is Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Do you remember us?”
“I remember you.” Graham shifts, lifting his gaze higher to meet hers full-on. She gets the impression he doesn’t do this often. Abigail’s mother always warned her the most important moments in her life would come wrapped up in simple ones such as these, their potency drawn from the smallest of actions, and she believes it now, pinned in place by a teenager’s eyes like needles through a butterfly’s wings.
“You’re the woman who killed my dad.”