#re. au ↳ variant

[see-arcane]

A Little Guy commission for a smooch between Jonathan and Mina! Specifically, the request was for my Redhead Mina design with Jonathan's look as up in the air. I decided to play with one of my ruddier designs to give them both an autumnal vibe🍂

If you're interested in your own mini doodle or a bigger piece, I have my Ko-Fi here!

[cattheskeletonofcreative]

Here's Genin! My baby!!!!! There's a reason he's mad at Dust (I might strictly call him Murder in this AU). I won't say why he's mad bc that's part of his backstory and I don't want to give that away.

(Btw, his left eye only produces red smoke when he's mad. Never when he's using his magic, unless he's doing magic angrily)

And, yes, Genin's a Killer variant. Just with a different story and in a very different multiversity.

Here's the original version of Genin (the only change is my art style):

(Cw: hand-drawn weapons below. And green face paint)

His ninjatō (sword) has the ability to turn into the kunai and other Japanese weapons. But he mainly only uses the ninjatō and the kunai. Genin uses jade green face paint, but isn't creative enough to do more than just a bunch of connected circles. He only uses face paint when he's bored and not on-duty. Also, he works for my AU's Nightmare.

[billie-the-sleepyhead]

Small MLP AU Chrisker drawing I did

Yes that’s a pink BSAA patch. He’s part of the Equestria division.

Wesker isn’t wearing his coat, that’s on purpose.

Version with the dbd black fog(I like that one a lot honestly)

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Hey Roddy. Do you take Chrobin prompts during Nanorimo? My brain is feeling a little wingfic, so. "Everyone has wings, but they aren't always out. Chrom asks Robin to unfurl hers after Southtown, and she has six." ...It's fine if you don't want to. I just, y'know. *Waves hands* Them.

Honestly, my NaNo performance this year is absolutely atrocious and I'm using it mostly as trying to get myself to get up and write again - which is to say I would write literally anything and count it for NaNo right now. Anyway I was casually chewing on this thought for like two days before I suddenly figured out an angle to come at it from that made me really want to write it...which ironically produces a story where the single scene you have pictured cannot happen.

----

Chrom has never met someone who doesn’t have wings; that doesn’t mean he’s never met someone whose wings he’s never seen. It’s polite to keep them folded out of the way so as to not bump into people in the streets or take up too much space in the barracks; it’s a fashion in Ylisstol to wear cloaks with hoods or cowls that obscure all but the largest wings into shapeless fabric. Of the Shepherds, Ricken in particular wears mages’ robes to hide the fluffy fledgling down that marks his age, and Sumia says that fabric over her wings keeps her mindful of what she’s doing with them and stops her from absentmindedly knocking them into things - most of the time, anyway.

So the stranger unconscious in the fields with no memory might be a notable oddity for all of the aforementioned reasons, the baggy hooded coat does not stand out as a peculiarity.

Her name is Robin. Like the birds.

-

The masked swordsman, Marth - swordswoman - whatever - has dark, glossy blue-feathered wings. She fights with them spread, like a goose flapping and screeching to drive away a threat. Like an eagle swooping low, coming in for the kill.

But when the assassins are dead and Emmeryn is safe, Chrom runs after the masked prophet to thank her, offer her anything in thanks, and he finds her with her wings folded to her back, small, like a sparrow, alone in the dark.

-

Taguel don’t have wings. This makes sense to Chrom, and the fact that Panne prominently displays her winglessness by not wearing any draped clothing across her back - or even much clothing at all, really - is still only one of her second or third most eye-catching traits.

-

Absolutely mortified as he is about walking in on Robin in the bath, and trying for both their sakes to put any sights he may have seen out of his memory forever, it takes until the next day, looking at her across a map as they discuss strategy, to realize something.

He is pretty damn sure that she didn’t have wings.

-

Manakete, unlike taguel, have wings in their human form. Manakete, unlike humans, have not a feather on their body; Nowi’s wings are leathery, like a bat, like a wyvern, like her dragon form.

-

Flying is difficult enough simply carrying the weight of one’s own body. Adding armor and weapons, even moreso. Wyverns and pegasi remain invaluable companions off and on the battlefield for such reason (even if Ylisse doesn’t have any corps of wyvern riders). A careful rider with a strong bond with their steed should only have to use their own wings to slow their fall if they are extremely unlucky. 

Phila and her knights are unlucky, and the Risen archers keep firing even as they fall. 

And Gangrel laughs. Gangrel stands holding a pike, upon which are impaled a pair of severed wings. Even from a distance, Chrom knows those tan speckled feathers. He’d know them even if, next to him, Lissa’s wings weren’t patterned the same. 

Emm falls. And Chrom flies, forgetting the archers, forgetting everything except the need to save her, but she falls faster than he can fly and arrows fly faster than he does. He barely notices the first two tearing through his wings, but by the third, Basilio is in the air with him pulling him back to earth. Robin clings to Lissa, holding her to the ground, holding her face against her shoulder, stopping her from following and from seeing. 

But Chrom gets a last glimpse of his older sister before Basilio drags him away. 

-

In Ferox they plan; their rescue failed, but they will not fail to topple Gangrel from his throne. Chrom has the faith of his Shepherds, the might and support of the khans, and Robin’s tactical guidance. He has Emmeryn’s dream for peace.

But they do not march for Plegia yet. And when Chrom closes his eyes he has the memory of Emm’s body lying broken on the sand and stone and the bloody stumps of her dismembered wings protruding from her back.

Sleep is hard to come by.

He finds Robin still in the war room, pouring over maps and markers. “Didn’t Flavia and Basilio say that we would start determining the specifics of our strategy in the morning?” he asks, even though he suspects that in the dark and in the silence, Robin hears Lissa’s scream the way Chrom watches Emm fall. 

Robin starts at the sound of his voice and she reaches immediately for her coat, draped over one of the chairs instead of her shoulders. Then she looks back up at him and when their eyes meet, Chrom thinks of the promise that she made to him, that she would stand at his side and help him be worthy of Emmeryn’s legacy. Her fist slowly unclenches from the fabric and her hand moves back to the markers on the table, but her eyes linger on Chrom’s for a little longer. “I need to have at least some idea of strategies to suggest,” she says, turning her attention back to the map. 

Without her coat, when she leans across the table to grab a book from the other side, her lack of wings is obvious. Her shirt, cut low in the front and back, exposes her shoulders and some of her back; he can’t help but notice the lack of even the stubs of wings amputated, or even any scars that could indicate a complete removal.

“You can say something, if you like,” she says, paging through her book. Her words could indicate a challenge she intends to bite back on - he remembers that unfortunate conversation about whether or not she could be termed a “lady” - but now, lately, with all of this weight they carry, he doubts it. 

“You probably don’t even remember, do you?” he asks. 

“I don’t,” she affirms, and that is the end of their discussion of that matter.

-

The dust settles over the scent of sweat and sand and singed feathers. Chrom steps on a reddish-brown plume that might have fallen from Gangrel’s wings. Robin stands at the crest of a hill, looking up at the carrion birds circling over the battlefield, ready to alight upon the corpses and add their feathers to the mix. Her expression is one he’s not seen worn on her face before and it’s hard to place. Wistful?

Chrom has a lot that he wants to say to her, but the first words out of his mouth, with a flap of his still-bandaged left wing, is, “Once I’m healed, I can take you to see Ylisse from up there.”

“I think I’d like that,” she says.

-

Most children are born without even a bump of what will develop into their wings. They usually start to emerge at the same time as a baby’s first teeth.

Robin wonders if her daughter will inherit her condition. 

She wonders if she will know by the time she comes back from war.

-

Validar, the new king of Plegia, looks identical to the leader of the assassins who attacked Emmeryn in Ylisstol. 

The hierophant of the Grimleal looks almost identical to Robin but for her wings; three on each side, long and thin with feathers of such a rich black that they appear purple in the light. 

-

Little lady Marth has a sword identical to Chrom’s and a Brand in her eye identical to that of baby Lucina’s. Little lady Marth is Lucina, no longer a baby, from a time yet to be, and the story belies belief but is too outrageous to possibly be false. The beautiful warrior who stands before her is Robin and Chrom’s daughter, and how could she be anyone else, when she looks so much like her father, her hair, her eyes, her wings with blue feathers darker than Chrom’s, almost black in the moonlight. Robin smooths down a few of her rumpled feathers.  

“I’ve been wondering if you would have them,” Robin murmurs, “or if you would be like me. I’ve wondered if it might be hard for you.”

“You have?” Lucina asks. “I would have been okay, because you were okay, and you’re my mother.” She blinks fiercely and presses the back of her hand to her mouth. “Mother… you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

-

Without heavy weapons or armor, mages would, in theory, be better suited to flying under their own power during combat. Like a divine storm of lashing winds, raging flames, and crackling lightning from above - but archers are an even greater threat to unarmored mages than they are to armored pegasus and rider. And magic, Lucina has been informed by Laurent, takes a great deal of concentration and conscious thought; add to that the focus required to remain airborne and steady enough to properly aim a spell, and the exposed position it puts oneself in, and the disadvantages outweigh the advantages. Cynthia agreed, saying that she would only be carting a tome around in the air if her pegasus was carrying her; Morgan attempted to train himself as a “flying tactician-magician” for two days, during which he shot nearly all of their companions with lightning. He acquiesced that it was indeed incredibly hard to aim while flying.

Gods, Lucina misses them all so much. She thinks of them as she tries to comb dirt and ashes out of her wings. They took care of each other, the way she sees their parents do now; anyone who needs help preening their wings will find it. Even from Nowi or Panne. Even for Henry, who only so recently fell in with the Shepherds. Just as even Severa and Gerome relented quickly to assistance. They took care of each other.

The memory of their companionship hurts worse now that she is no longer alone.

“Do you need help, sweetheart?” Robin asks, and Lucina, contorted as she is trying to reach the base of her wings, nods. 

“I wasn’t sure when you learned how to care for wings,” Lucina admits once her mother has seated herself behind her. “If it was before or after mine came in.”

Robin hums. After a few minutes she asks, “Do you know if I ever knew the reason why I don’t have wings?”

Lucina shakes her head, then says, “Not that I knew. I asked you when I was young and you just said that people are all different; some have Brands and some have wings and some don’t, just like some people are dragons and some are rabbits.”

“That sounds like I didn’t know why,” Robin says.

“Or maybe I was too young for the real answer,” Lucina says. “I was still rather young when…”

She doesn’t want to finish the thought, but she knows her mother knows how that sentence ends, regardless.

-

Morgan has black-feathered wings. He runs to hug Robin when he sees her, but with his arms around her shoulders he freezes for a moment before he fully leans into the embrace. Like for an instant he was confused. Like something he expected wasn’t there.

-

When Validar orders Robin to seize the Fire Emblem from Chrom and give it to him, she does so; her body acts against her mind as a splitting pain fills her head and sears across her back. Even after regaining control of herself, the pain persists, through their flight from the castle back to the safety of their army.

And that pain is still nothing compared to the horror of what she has done, and the thought of what else she could be ordered to do.

-

The sunset bleeds orange over the Plegian fields. At the outskirts of their camp, Lucina watches Robin shake off her coat to find, sprouting from between her shoulder blades, six wings. 

“Mother?” Lucina asks. “Could I have a word?”

Robin turns. Her eyes are wet with pain but she pulls a smile onto her face for her daughter. “Of course.”

Her purple-black fathers are matted with blood, wet and scraggly the way a chick comes out of the egg. But even now, Lucina knows those wings. She saw them on a monster looming over her kingdom as it burned it to the ground.

It is easier to raise her sword when she sees such a plain sign of the Fell Dragon whose vessel Robin will become. She knows what she has to do. 

Her resolve is still not strong enough. 

-

The hierophant, Grima, does not set her feet upon the ground. She hangs in the air with the lazy flap of her wings; it seems as natural to her as breathing. 

Robin has never left the ground under her own power. 

“You refuse my gifts at every turn,” Grima says. “Grounded by your own will, when you could choose godhood. But if you won’t claim your birthright, I will take what has been laid out for you instead.”

They are the same, Robin and Grima, the tactician and the hierophant, and the wings on their backs cast the same shadows as the Fell Dragon’s do on the ground far below.

-

They are the same, and that is the key to the Fell Dragon’s undoing.

Robin dissolves into the air, and Grima’s bones sink into the ground.

-

Chrom finds her again, no longer a stranger, unconscious in the fields, with no brand on her hand and no wings on her back.

[oliveroctavius]

okay this is a Fresh-off-the-movie take and not a properly thought out essay yet, but ATSV reminded me of thoughts I was having on the diversification of superheroes.

Superheroes have a long history of popular (predominantly white male presumably cishet) characters. Because of the MarvelDC model, any new diverse writers/characters have to be slotted into the preexisting structure. Brand new characters are a risk; the popular ones tend to be (1) AU versions or (2) legacy characters.

there's this bit, in the Spider-Verse comics, where Pavitr has this cosmic horror moment where he suddenly understands that he's a 4-issue miniseries variant of a popular character.

This gets brushed off with a "how do you know they're not copies of you? You Have Worth!!" speech, but Pavitr's observation is objectively correct.

Miguel's line is that some things are "canon events", neutral laws of the universe. But the projection in his web are all of Peter's story being told and re-told, revealing the truth: This is a particular person's story. To treat it as universal makes the variants' diversity no more than aesthetic-level deep. Which isn't how it has to be.

In the context of the comics, both Miles and Miguel aren't AUs, but legacy characters, and not even traditional ones--the torch isn't passed on, Spider-Man just died and they have his name now! "Peter Parker died because you became Spider-Man!" Miguel screams at Miles in ATSV, an insane thing to say. It's also objectively true. Spider-Man only dies for good when Marvel has found another Spider-Man to replace him.

ATSV isn't the first to touch this theme (Kamala Khan's comics intro gets into it bigtime) but man. Is there a place for new voices at the franchise-table if their perspectives say something structurally different? Will your book get cancelled and your world end? Is a place at the table truly something you want?

[bruciemilf]

Re-watching Spiderverse. My curiosity wills me to make an AU where Jason gets thrown in an intricate mess of multiverses where he's adopted by almost all Bruce variants.

"So let me get this straight,"

of course, he's god's most hated freak, and the ONE person who can guide him through this mess is a small, annoying, cartoon version of Dick.

"This is a network of intricate, interdimensional realities stitched to a 'canon' tapestry. And Batman has to lose me in every single one to hold it up."

"Sure! There's a less idiotic way of putting it, but I like your enthusiasm. "

Jason's urge to squeeze this funko pop motherfucker until the life slowly bleeds away grows. It can wait, thought.

Currently, he's trying to help with neutralizing a version of Bizarro. Poor guy must've gotten lost again. Very strange that only one Bruce accompanied him, thought.

"So how many Batmen are there, exactly? Seems like one's enough." He mutters, refusing to let the familiar warmth infest his body when thinking of how they look at Jason.

Like the universe ends and starts with him.

"Oh there's a whole bunch! We have 80s Batman, cowboy Batman, Batman who cries, Batman who sings opera, Looney Toones Batman, -- a personal favorite, -- really the numbers are unlimited!"

Jason watches with strange sense of unease as this one variant handles Bizzaro. "And that's who? Biker gang leader Batman?"

Nightmite gets quiet for a second. Jason pauses, because THAT’S strange.

This eery nervousness only springs when this Bruce, -- not as old as everyone, hell, not even as old as JASON, -- glues a green device on Bizzaro's chest and leaps away.

"That's, uh...Batman who kills."

Jason doesn't have time to react as a booming explosion overwhelmes his senses. His knees are weak. And not just because the ugly stench of burning flesh invades his senses.

But because this Bruce, this Batman, is aiming for him and quick. That mask sends him right on edge. He hates the way it only covers Bruce's mouth, forcing Jason to gaze into sharp, brutal blue eyes.

"Jason?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you," Jason snarls before anything else. "He was detained! He wasn't a threat anymore!"

"He got roofed with red kryptonite and destroyed half a neighborhood. What did you want me to do?"

"Come up with another plan! Trap him, knock him out! Blowing him to pieces doesn't solve anything!" Jason yells, Nightmite looking incredibly worried and hiding behind his shoulder. "Try TALKING to him. Show him some fucking mercy."

"We tried that before. It's not working." He says, "Mercy doesn't get results."

"It gets you HUMANITY."

"If your Batman thought you that, he already failed."

[starry-bi-sky]

I absolutely love your older brother Danyal Who left to protect Damian story, can you add on to it because I wanna know how he would interact with the family and maybe he knew Jason when he was in the league before he left or He would turn invisible and spy on the batfam to check up on Damian from time to time so he knows things about them

i've actually thought about Jason knowing about Danny in the League before! I made a little meme about it in one of my meme dump posts! Ultimately it's non-canon to the au and would have to be part of an offshoot branch or a variant of the au due to continuity reasons.

Meaning that if Jason knew about Danyal, I don't think Damian would have been able to keep his existence (and "death") a secret for long. Or at least long enough for it to be revealed that he was alive. Jason would have asked about Danny at some point, maybe even right away upon re-entering the family and seeing Damian there, depending on the context. I can see him asking whether in front of everyone and in private too, depending on that context as well.

Ooooo and! I just remembered this, but there's no guarantee that Danny and Jason would have even met while Jason was in the league too -- some depictions I've seen of this au have Jason around while Damian is still a baby, or as a young kid. The timelines are notoriously wonky. -- and Danyal "died" when Damian was five. Depending on the ages, the timeline, and all that jazz, Jason could have very well entered the League when Damian was five sometime after Danyal's death.

Or he could've been there to see Danyal, meet him, and eventually become close enough to him to figure out that Danyal deeply adored his little brother and everything he did was ultimately meant to be for his benefit -- in a twisted up way. Hey, we could even go a step further and say he was there the night Danny got his facial scar. It really would all depend.

But that would require me sitting down and recharting the timeline in order to fit that in without any significant plot holes; like deciding ages, how long Jason's with the League before splitting (ultimately he spent five years away from Gotham before returning. How many of those years am I willing to keep him in the au?), when he was there, etc.

Something I am simply not interested nor have the energy to do for this au this far in ashdgf. So for the sake of my own sanity and the continuity of the main au: Jason did not know nor know about Danyal in the League.

However its still a fun idea to think about! So some things I've thought about if Jason did know Danyal in the league:

- For the hispanic jason truthers: Jason sometimes called him diablito; 'little devil' since the whole 'grandson of the demon head' thing.

- Danyal had a habit of sitting right outside Damian's room at night to listen for intruders, something he's done since Damian was a baby after the initial attack that resulted in his scar. Jason would sometimes sit with him if he found him like that.

- If Jason was present -- both physically and mentally -- for the day Damian was born, he saw firsthand the way Danny was so happy to meet him. The light shining in Danyal's eyes as baby Damian latched onto his fingers is not something he could ever forget.

- This means he was also there the day Danyal got his scar a few days later. Bursting into the nursery with Talia and seeing Danny hovered in front of the crib, almost drenched in blood with his face split open, is not something he'll forget either.

- (fun fact, did you know that head injuries bleed the most even if it's a shallow cut? Danny's scar, which in order to still be prominent at 15, would be from his hairline to his jaw, would've been bleeding profusely. And scars shrink with age! This is not only because of healing, but because your body grows except the scar doesn't. This i know from personal experience -- i have a scar on my knee from 2nd grade that used to stretch horizontally from kneecap to kneecap and needed two large bandaids to cover. But now is barely any longer than the first joint of my pinkie. It has not faded.)

- Nor will he forget the thousand yard stare in Danny's little blue eyes as he looked up at Talia and, in a little voice, said; "They were gonna hurt Damian, momma."

- He and Talia both tried convincing Danny to use the lazarus pits to heal his face without a scar, Danny refused and kept refusing. It was proof he'd protected his brother and he wouldn't accept any of their reasoning. It hasn't impaired his sight or ability.

- Jason held his hand while the cut got stitched up. Danyal didn't cry once. He stared at the wall over the doctor's shoulder, and the only indication that Jason knew he was in pain was when his grip tightened in his hand.

- Jason left shortly after Damian turned three, so he was somewhat aware that Danny was going to begin distancing himself from Damian. Damian's memories of him in the League are fuzzy at best.

- When Damian joined the family and Jason was hanging around/reconciled with them, he asked Damian in the cave about Danyal. He said; "By the way, where's Danyal? I'm surprised he's not hovering by your side."

- He did not like the way Damian tensed up and refused to meet his eyes. When Damian finally revealed that Danyal was dead, he refused to believe it, and continued to refuse to believe it long afterward. Danyal? Gone? The little eldest demon was dead? That sounded completely unlike him. That boy was too stubborn and loved Damian too much to stay buried.

- They got into an argument about it right there in the cave. Jason thought Damian was lying to him, and Damian was not appreciating how much Jason cared nor him saying Damian was a liar.

- Jason has a few photos of him and Danyal and Damian in the league. All of them happened when Damian was too young to remember them. He has one or two photos of Danyal before he got his scar. He eventually shares these with Damian.

- I did have one idea where he found Danny in Amity Park once and had to be threatened by Danyal to not tell anyone.

okay that's all i've got for now. Onto the others!

"[or] would [he] turn invisible and spy on the batfam to check up on Damian from time to time so he knows things about them"

He wouldn't do this actually! Danyal is essentially in something like deep cover right now, and his whole reason for leaving the League is the belief that him being near Damian or the two of them being together is dangerous to Damian. That they will eventually be pitted against each other, and Danyal refuses to harm his brother in any sort of capacity.

The very last thing he would do is try and do anything that would indicate that he was alive -- including going invisible and flying over to Gotham to see Damian. The Waynes would figure out eventually that they were being spied on. They have experience with the paranormal and the weird due to Gotham shenanigans and basic hero craziness. They have incredible reflexes and intuition, you know how people can feel it when they're being stared at? That. That would happen, and when they can't shake the feeling of being watched, they'd get paranoid and seek out the cause of the feeling.

In some issues, afaik, Wayne Manor has protections against magical creatures. That place is more secure than Fort Knox; Danyal would not be able to get in or near it without triggering some sort of alarm.

And so, Danyal would do the opposite, and in fact would avoid Gotham like the plague -- in order to stay away from Damian, he has to stay away from Damia. And he'd probably avoid some of the cities where he knows his father's affiliates and allies lay, just to be safe. This is relatively easy to do since he's 15 and not leaving Amity Park any time soon.

If, for any reason, his foster family or school (for the 'visiting gotham' trope) made a plan to visit Gotham, Danyal would find a way to get out of it, by any means necessary.

It's just not a risk he's willing to take, and the 'deep cover' thing is something I mentioned in my Ellie and Damian Meeting oneshot (its in a reblog of my "danny and dani meeting" post). The only reason Damian hasn't immediately flown out to Danyal is because of two main reasons:

he has no idea where he is

Bruce forbade it for the time being because it could spook Danny off.

If Danny found out that Damian knew he was alive, knew where he was, and was going to come see him, there's no guarantee that Danny will just... stay. There's no guarantee that Danyal won't freak the fuck out and disappear off the radar, and then they'll be back to square one. Finding and meeting Danyal requires patience and proper planning, they can't dive headfirst into this.

Besides! Danny keeps tabs on Damian and his father (and eventually by extension his siblings) through news reports and articles about them! Sure not all of them are truthful, but the things reporting their actions, whereabouts, etc, he keeps and prints out and puts in a little shoebox/scrapbook in his room!

The folder on his father is huge because he started it a few months into moving in with the Fentons and it spans back decades. and Damian's is currently the smallest since he just recently appeared in public eye. Most of it is things like, Wayne Inc announcements for charities, galas, etc. Not tabloids or gossip. Positive publicity stuff.

He keeps them under his bed, and he pulls out his father's scrapbook to tell him about patrol whenever he comes back and needs to stitch himself up. It lets him pretend that he's actually telling his father about what he's done.

As for Danny interacting with the fam -- it'd be awkward but non-hostile! Danny's... not sure how to act with them, he'd be not unlike a skittish stray cat that you're trying to befriend who keeps running away. He only knows them from what he's parsed out from news articles written about them -- both civilian and hero -- and anything Talia's told him.

There's for sure a resemblance between him and Damian in more than just looks -- they both hold this sort of powerful or confident air around them that seems exclusive to the Al Ghul family -- and there's of course that pride in their abilities. They have similar speech patterns -- although Danny's more relaxed due to Sam and Tucker's influence. And they both share an intense care for animals and the environment that's also pretty standard for the Al Ghul family.

Overall though he's just... rather quiet. Snarky and witty, but quiet. Unsure and seemingly analyzing them, trying to figure them out. He's quietest around Bruce -- not because he's afraid of him or anything, but he's overwhelmed by him. He's wanted to meet Bruce since he was a child, and now he is and he doesn't know what to do. It's a strange feeling to have.

You can find him sitting in the same room Bruce is in and find him just, watching him. Watching him from various, obscure places. He seems content to just exist in his presence, and confused when Bruce speaks to him -- like he's not totally comprehended the fact that he's actually there in front of him.

Damian and Danny have perhaps the most awkward interactions with each other out of everyone -- they have old issues they need to sort out like Danny purposely distancing himself from Damian, and intentionally orchestrating their past interactions to result in Damian hating him, and Damian needs to figure out who his brother really is beyond what he led Damian into thinking.

There's a lot of one-sided yelling matches where Damian airs out his grievances at Danny, and Danny sits there silently and lets him. Danny apologizes to him for treating him so coldly in the past, that if there's anything he could go back and redo, it would be that. That he doesn't expect forgiveness from Damian, but he wants him to know Danyal's sincerity. He tells him that if he wanted, Danny could return to Amity Park and he won't bother Damian or his family again. Al Ghuls don't cry, but i think Danyal does when he apologizes to Damian.

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Mockingbird

Reader Description: He/him, adult, early 30s.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Male!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, angst?

(Now now, i know i put out a poll. BUT i started writing this and... oh well enjoy :> I promise the next one will be a lighthearted Wandanat HS au eeekkk!!!!!)

Summary: America Chavez gave Wanda what she wanted, Wanda sees the love of her life again from another universe. However, her lover's variant already build a life without her...

Y/n sits on the sofa with a huff and turned on the TV to watch whatever was available on Netflix, "What a day..." he said to himself. He loved his new job, but of course like any other person he just needed some time alone.

He scrolled to the various crappy movies and series that he hadn't watch. Deciding that he just wanted something light, he put on a sitcom that he watched many times with his late wife a few years ago. It felt weird not watching it with her even until now, but he remembered how much his wife loved re-watching the sitcom over and over to the point where she could recite every single episode by heart.

Y/n smiled at the memory, when the two used to binge watch Brooklyn 99 at the common room of the compound. Wanda even got to the point where she hosted a 'Halloween Heist', but it ultimately stopped after two heist when Natasha won in less than 10 minutes, yes both heist. Honestly they should've known better than to have those kind of heist games with a well renowned international spy.

At least they still have a few rounds of 'Jimmy Jabs' games.

Except they dialed the extremeness to a 10 considering they were the Avengers. We don't have to get into details, but due to the techs that they have and the powers they own, things get very interesting quite quickly.

Well almost everything in his life was interesting, I mean he's surrounded by gods, witches, spies. Not a single day in his life was ordinary...

Including today, when a portal in the shape of a star appeared out of nowhere right in front of him. The portal it self did not shock him in the slightest. What did shock him though was the fact that the love of his life, his wife, his soulmate who died years ago, was now standing right in front of him in the flesh.

Y/n was speechless. Ever more so, the fact that Wanda was choking what it looks like no more than 14 year old girl. "Wanda, what are you doing?!"

"Y/n..." Wanda breathed out, her grip on the girl loosen. The 14 year old girl then fell to the gasping for air. "I- I didn't..."

Y/n stood up from the couch, he couldn't move. His dead wife was alive right before his eyes, either she had rise from the dead or... well, there was only one other possibility.

She was from another universe.

No doubt in his mind that she was. In Y/n's universe, they knew the existence of the multiverse. "I just wanted to see you again." Wanda said with teary eyes.

Being a former SHIELD agent, he was quick to piece the puzzle together. This Wanda must be from a Universe where he had died. He tried to stay calm for her, even though inside, seeing Wanda again brought back so many memories. Happy ones, but most notably the painful one.

Particularly, a memory of the day he lost her.

Wanda noticed that Y/n had been silent the whole time, she hung her head in shame. "I'm a monster..."

Y/n's heart broke at her words. "No... Lyubov, don't say that." He approached her slowly and gently lifted her chin so her eyes meets his.

Gazing into the eyes of the woman he loves that died years ago was something that would never have crossed his mind. It took every, by that I mean EVERYTHING in his power to not breakdown right in front of her.

Little did he know Wanda felt the same, however the difference was her wound was still fresh. Staring into his beautiful eyes again, it broke her. Wanda broke down and pulled him into a hug, taking in everything she could.

His scent, his warmth, his comfort.

She cried on to his shoulders, and Y/n simply held her. It felt good, really good. To be in his arms again. To have Y/n hold her like he used too.

“I miss you, so much." She told him between sobs.

"I miss you too." Y/n responded. Wanda pulled back and rested her forehead against his with her eyes closed. The two stayed like that for a little while, yet the question still lingers in Y/n's mind. Why was Wanda choking an innocent little girl?

It seems like his mind is louder than he thought as Wanda answered the question. "I... When you died, I couldn't- I couldn't move on." She told him hesitantly as she opened her eyes. Fear and guilt painted over her face as she thought of the potential reactions she would get from Y/n.

He glanced at the 14 year old girl behind her, Wanda noticed the way his eyes shifted. She felt the need to explain herself, he deserved to know the truth. To know the extent she went just to be with her lover again.

"I... I chased down, America Chavez. She was the key..." He shifted his eyes back to hers. Key?? "I tried to-" The words got stuck in her throat. "I tried to kill her..." She cried, hanging her head in shame. Y/n's eyes widen at her words.

Wanda... a killer? How bad was her universe treating her to the point where she goes to that extent??

An embrace, was the last thing Wanda had expected to receive from him. She expected a look of disappointment, shame, anger, yet all he did was simply pulled her into a hug.

"I understand."

That was when Wanda started crying against his chest. He was taller, so he kissed the top of her head lovingly. With her ears pressed against his chest, she could listen to his heartbeat. It was the calmest sound she hasn't heard in a while.

"I... I lost you, In my universe. I understand how you feel." Y/n remembered the day Wanda sacrificed herself for the soul stone. After the battle he begged, begged the Avengers to use the stones to bring her back. To have her in his arms again. To hold her...

Wanda felt his emotions. Anger, sadness, grief, Wanda felt it all as memory of her own death came back flooding his mind like a tidal wave. She held him tighter, knowing that he needed this just as much as she does. After a long while, they pulled back resting their foreheads against each other. Both with tears streaming down their eyes.

Wanda cupped his face, she felt Y/n leaning to her touch. When they gazed into each other once again, Wanda, without a second thought, pulled him down for a kiss.

Y/n reciprocated just as quick. Wanting to feel her soft lips after 4 long years. He missed it. Her soft touches, the taste of her lips, her beautiful voice. He missed her so dearly.

Wanda wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Holding onto his figure almost desperately. They held onto each other as they poured all the love they couldn't express with words through their actions.

After a long while, Wanda broke the kiss. "Let's not leave each other again."

Y/n clenched his jaw, he moved his hand from her waist to her face, caressing it. "I want that, more than anything..."

Wanda smiled, a genuine smile that she haven't had for the longest time. Yet... she noticed a hint of hesitation on Y/n's part. "What is it, love?"

He had to tell her, but he didn't know how. Y/n could tell she was broken, broken beyond repair that she goes to this extent. He doesn't know how to break the news to her. "Wands... I want you back, more than anything."

Slowly her smile fades. God he wishes he could bring it back.

"But... you can't stay here..."

That shattered Wanda's heart, "W-why?" Did he not love her just as much? He was a variant of her lover yes, but surely they would share the same love. Did he find someone else?? "What makes you say that?" She asked, from the tone of her voice Y/n could tell his words broke her heart.

"You can't... stay in my universe. And I can't- I can't stay in yours."

"W-why?"

"It would cause an incursion. It will destroy my universe and maybe even yours. I can't let that happen, Wands. I'm sorry." He told her gently while caressing her cheeks.

Her eyes started to pool again as she leaned to his touch. "Why... Why does it have to be like this- Why is the universe to cruel..."

Y/n wanted so badly to erase her sadness, her grief, to see her beautiful smile again. "If I was as powerful as you, I would've ventured across the multiverse for you. But, I'm just a human. The only thing I could do was... move on."

Move on

The word echoes in her head. Y/n had moved on. She looked at him in disbelief. "Move on?" Wanda breathed out.

Y/n clenched his jaw again, "Move on isn't the right word. You will always have a special place in my heart, but... I couldn't stay like that forever. I'm sorry, Wanda." He remembered the countless times he almost took his life, just to be with her again.

Wanda was... angry? Sad, heartbroken, deep down she understood. If she had died, she would've wanted him to live on. The same way her Y/n told her too. Yet part of her was still corrupted. How can he move on so quickly when she would destroy everything just to be with him again?

Anger was boiling inside her, before she could ask any further, they heard a little girl's voice. "Daddy?" Wanda was shocked to her core. Y/n... has a daughter.

Y/n quickly wiped his tears and turned around to face the 4 year old girl. "Heyy pumpkin." The little girl ran over to her father as he bent down to pick her up. "What are you doing up this late huh?" He asked her.

"Bad dream..." The little girl said while rubbing her eyes, yet it was clear she was still sleepy. Y/n turn to face Wanda with a gentle smile as he held his daughter.

Wanda was speechless, the sight... warmed her shattered heart. She was happy for him, but devastated that he had built a life... without her. The thought of Y/n having a kid, a family with someone else felt like a stab in her heart.

"Who's that?" The little girl asked, pointing at Wanda who was standing a few centimeters away from them with her hand on her chest. Trying so hard not to burst into tears.

Shit... how should he say this. "Honey, this is..." He wanted his daughter to know. But, she was too young. "...a very dear friend of mine. She has magical powers and came to visit me."

'Dear friend', so Wanda truly is out of his life.

The little girl waved at Wanda. "Hello!"

"Hi..." Wanda whispered. She wanted to hold the little girl. Wanda felt some sort of connection with her that she couldn't quite pin. It seems like the little girl felt the same as she leaned towards Wanda with grabby hands. Y/n took a few steps closer to Wanda, slowly.

"I think she wants to be held by you." Y/n said, looking at his daughter lovingly.

"May I?" Wanda asked, glancing at him. He nodded and gently moved his daughter onto Wanda's arms. The first thing the little girl did was reach up to touch her crown while giggling. “Oh-“

The action caused Wanda to laugh a little too. His daughter is beautiful. She definitely has her father’s hair. But her facial features probably leaned more towards her mother, whoever it is. Probably someone she knew as the little girl looked so... familiar.

“Magic?” The little girl asked.

Wanda smiled gently as she hovered her hand in front of the little girl. She projected a tiny rabbit that hopped around her hand, causing the little girl to giggle while clapping her hand. The bunny hopped around the little girl as well before disappearing into a red mist.

Unbeknownst to Wanda, Y/n doing everything in his powers not to break down at the sight before him. “Are you friends with my mama?

Wanda didn’t know how to answer that. “Um…”

“My daddy says my mama has magic powers, like you!” The little girl explained.

“Has your Mama talked about me?” Wanda asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The only other person who she know was a witch is Agatha.

"No..." The little girl said sadly. "Dad says she's somewhere up there." She pointed at the ceiling, Wanda understood what she meant. "He said we'll visit her one day!"

"Oh... I see." Well, what was she supposed to say. The little girl then played with her crown again, and Wanda lets her. Loving smile plastered on her face. It seems like the little girl was studying her face as well??

"You look a little bit like her?" Y/n's daughter blurted out. Could it be? No it can't be. "My mama had brown hair though, yours is red."

Deciding she didn't want to get her hopes up, she asked the girl a question. Hoping to steer the subject. "What's your name?"

"Wanda." The little girl answered, she was too pre occupied with Wanda's crown to notice the shift in Wanda's expression. "My daddy says my mama has the same name too." The little girl added.

Oh... It all makes sense now. The connection she felt toward the little girl.

Wanda finally glanced at Y/n who had a sorrow look plastered across his face. That was when she finally noticed the difference, this Y/n indeed looked much much older than the one from her universe. Her heart stammering in her chest. This wasn't just Y/n's daughter... It's their's.

Y/n approached the two of them, they didn't know how long time had passed. Probably a while, as little Wanda had decided to nestle on the crook of her mother's neck with her eyes closed. Wanda searched Y/n's eyes for explanation.

"You-" He corrected himself, "Her mother, had complications with pregnancy." He explained while tucking a hair behind his daughter's ear, watching her sleeping form with a small smile. "So, Tony made us an artificial womb to carry this little devil."

Wanda looked at his- her daughter's sleeping form. It felt surreal.

"But uh..." His voice cracked slightly, "Wanda and I got sent on a mission, to bring everyone back from the snap. We won... but I lost her." It was clear that the memory brought so much pain to him. "Not long after that this little bug was born. Wanda... never got to meet her. So I named her after her mother."

No wonder the girl looked familiar, she had took on most of Wanda's facial feature. Her nose, her face structure, but most notably her eyes. She looked exactly like how she was when she was younger.

"I would never forget you, Wanda." He whispered so only she could hear. Wanda glanced at Y/n who had tears in his eyes.

Wanda was at lost for words, the only thing she could came up with was. "She has your hair."

Y/n chuckles, "Yeah... that's kind of the only thing she got from me." He had a longing look as he stared at little Wanda holding onto her mother. A sight he wished he could've seen with his Wanda, but she was taken away from him before she could ever meet her own daughter. "I was lost for days, but then when she was born I-" He stopped himself, trying to find the right words. "I had to be strong, for her sake."

Y/n slowly wrap his arms around the two of them, the sight of the family was perfect. America, who had been watching their whole conversation was touched by the image. To see the contrast of how Wanda used her powers in front of her daughter. How tender she was, the power that caused so much chaos to be used in such a gentle way. It reminds her a little bit of her own mothers.

"If she wasn't here I-" Y/n's words got stuck in his throat, "I think I would've..." Yet Wanda knew what he meant, her heart shattered for him.

"Y/n..." Wanda closed the distance and rested their foreheads once more with their daughter sleeping soundly on her shoulder.

They stayed there for a few minutes, just enjoying the warmth from each other. Wanting so badly to be the perfect family that they could've been if the universe wasn't so cruel. Another thought creeped into his mind, how was he supposed to explain this to their daughter when she remembers?

Surely it was probably because of sleepiness that she couldn't properly remember her mother's face. But she has seen multiple pictures of her mother, how was he supposed to explain that this Wanda was a variant.

His thoughts was so loud that Wanda could hear it clearly. "It's ok." She said, giving him a reassuring smile. Wanda raised her hand slowly, little red mist emitting from the tip of her fingers. She tapped their daughter's temple ever so gently. Causing little Wanda to nestle further into her neck with a faint smile.

"Rest your head and go to sleep, little one. When you wake up, this will all just be a dream." Wanda whispered.

ᗢ

"Hey, pumpkin. Time to wake up." Wanda Y/l/n, slowly opened her eyes. She yawned and stretched her arms. Her father was smiling softly at her, she sat up on her bed and rubbed her eyes.

"I had a dream..." The little girl told her father. Unknown to her, Y/n tensed slightly.

"Was was it about?" He asked.

"Mama came to visit us instead." The little girl didn't understand why, but she felt extremely sad as she started to cry. Y/n was quick to pull her into a hug.

"Shhh... It's ok little one, don't you cry." He held his daughter as she cried in his arms. "Everything's gonna be alright."

"Why couldn't she stay?"

He thinks for a second before answering, "I know mommy's not here right now, but I promise she's gonna be alright."

And if you ask me to, daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. Imma give you the world. Imma buy a diamond ring for you, Imma sing for you, I'd do anything for you To see you smile

[rottenrosethorns]

Promise | Part One

Pairing: RE4!Leon S. Kennedy x co-worker!fwb!afab!Reader 

Genre: Friends with Benefits AU, Smut 

Synopsis: You and Leon had a strictly professional work relationship and strictly physical personal relationship. But recently, you start to notice more affection from Leon little by little. With his upcoming mission, will you be able to confront him before he leaves? 

Warnings: 18+ SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI, vanilla, oral sex (mutual), throatfucking (receiving), choking (receiving), cum swallowing (mutual), hair tugging (giving), public oral, physical restraint – hand wraps used (received). Please inform me if I missed anything! 

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: this is my first leon fic and im very, very new to the RE fandom but not new to writing, so i apologize if some parts/personality is non-canonical! im still working on learning more about the universe. also, this is my first fic ive written since a year so…if this is bad, im so sorry, working hard to get my writing back to better as well <//3 also there might be a part 2 but might not??? depends idkkkkk, if this goes well or not lolll

.....

- masterlist - 

- part two -

.....

You don’t remember how it started. All you knew was that somehow, it became routine for you both to spend Friday nights together after work. 

At first, it was every few months, nothing structured really. A stray text, here and there. A brief "My place or yours?" or "Are you up?" sufficed whatever cravings either conjured during the quieter nights. 

If he needed to be satisfied, you’d be there. If you needed to relieve stress, he’d be there. And that, for the longest time, was the determination of the relationship. There wasn't really much need for anything else. Leon was always out on missions, fighting off whatever offspring the latest virus variant had mutant and you were diligently cooped up in your tiny office, researching past strains, tracking patterns for the next possible mutations, and investigating outbreaks. 

Even though you both worked at the same company, albeit in different departments, crossing paths with Leon was not uncommon. Despite the frequency, every interaction was conducted as if you both were strangers. Partly because nobody at work needed to know the personal agendas you both occasionally shared as well as the work dynamic between your titles and ranks. It didn’t matter anyways, nobody would ever catch on that a DSO agent and a researcher would intermingle in bed anyways. 

But eventually, those seldom visits became monthly, always being on the first Fridays for convenience. It was weird to keep a schedule like that, especially when the appointment was solely for sex, but it’s what worked best for the both of you and neither of you had any complaints. Almost like a regular wellness checkup with your family doctor except none of you suffered from any illnesses. 

Then, monthly became weekly. Both of you needn’t ask to come over anymore, practically leaving work together on Fridays. You clean up whatever case you were working on, pack up, and head towards his apartment. This was routine. 

So, it was obvious what your plans for tonight were. 

“L/N.” A few knocks accompanied your colleague’s voice. She was Poppy, a sweet girl from a few doors down. One of the only co-workers that was near your age. 

Your desk was a mess, papers skewed everywhere from the recent case concerning a missing girl filled every square inch surface of your office. Briefly glancing up from the disarray of files, you caught a glimpse of her with her light coat and bag on, “Clocking out?”

Poppy cheered, “Yup, my shift at the bar is starting. Care to join me and the rest of the agents?”

“I’d love to, but I have plans for tonight already,” A mental image of you sitting yourself on Leon’s throbbing dick painted into your mind. Or perhaps maybe you’ll let him take the lead tonight with him pinning you down on all fours, “Maybe Saturday, if you're not hungover enough.”

“I’m always ready for a good time, hungover or not! If you change your mind, come find us downtown,” Admittedly, that’s what you liked most about Poppy. She was always cheerful, a great change of pace in the gloomy environment of your job. Not that you were overly pessimistic, you were just very logical and had a job to do. A job to find a missing girl and investigate the T-virus. So, you both exchanged goodbyes before you sighed and continued to review the deadend clues for the nth time. 

“You have plans for tonight?” 

You raised your eyes in surprise, sure that you were alone in the office, having this time of evening to been way past normal work hours as well as the rest of the floor supposedly at the bar. Well, everyone but him now. 

“I have plans every Friday, Kennedy.” You blinked innocently, keeping your facial expression neutral as you initially reference your workload; however, the sight of him in the cursed tight t-shirt underneath his jacket immediately shifted your tone into a sneaky innuendo. 

Leon was fairly well at keeping his composure, speaking nonchalantly without skipping a beat as he leaned up against your office door frame, “More important than catching up with the crew?”

You caught on to his dismissal, not willing to embarrass yourself with desperation to fix your sexual desire. Thus, you mockingly tapped your files as if Leon couldn’t see the plethora of papers for himself, “I have a case.”

“You’ve been on that case for weeks now,” As if to taunt you with silent temptation, he crossed his arms, defining his biceps. Damn him, you thought. Although you couldn't see them underneath his jacket, you could tell just by the strain of wrinkles folded in the fabric. Damn his shirt too, you thought. 

You shook your head, motioning towards the bulletin board of cold trails, “I’ve got to find a lead.”

“It’s one night, you can get back to it on Monday,” Leon pushed off the doorframe to welcome himself further into your office. You thought he’d make his way to inspect your bulletin, only to be surprised when he placed himself directly across from the other side of your desk. He bent forwards, placing each hand on the edge of your wooden desk and leaning his face close to yours. Even without words, you knew he wanted you to take a break. 

“I have to find the missing girl.” 

“One night,” Leon sighed before taking one hand to take the files out of yours and shutting your laptop closed, “It won’t kill you.”

“It could be enough to kill the girl,” You argued. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to save yourself a glare from Leon. A moment of silence passed before you sighed, not in frustration but in defeat,  “Let’s go before I change my mind.” 

Since when did it become so hard to say no to him? 

.....

“So, you decided to come after all!” Poppy cheered with a slight slur in her speech, already moving to pour you a drink, “I knew Leon would convince you.”

You gave Leon an accusatory look to which he dodged by moving to greet another colleague, “You-”

“Cheers!!” Poppy all but screamed into your ear whilst practically shoving the glass of alcohol to your lips. You quickly reacted, taking in the liquid in a few large gulps. 

“Damn girl, you practice that?” Poppy scrunched her eyes playfully, suggesting that you practice with more than just drinking alcohol in your down time. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw a ghost of a smirk appear on Leon’s face before disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Regardless, you shot him a dirty look. 

“Take a seat!” Poppy beckoned, sluggishly taking your coat and bag. 

There was only one spot left located on the far side of the table. Just as you were about to make your way, Poppy’s voice halted you, “Hey, move it, will you?”

Poppy’s question was more like a demand towards another colleague, “What? I’m already sitting here. Why should I move?’

“Just move!!” Poppy pretty much shoved the poor man out of his seat before turning towards you with a soft smile and gesturing you to sit. For a moment, you’d forgotten how this sweet girl could become a special agent, but with that display, you remembered just how tough she could be under that kind smile. 

“Thanks,” You laughed nervously, not wanting to be on the other end of her wrath. You wondered why sitting here was such a big deal until you realized it wasn't where but who you were sitting next to. With a seat so hidden in the corner and a private room full of many people, you were sandwiched between Leon’s sturdy torso and the wall. From where you were, you had to ask Leon to grab any drinks or food for you. 

“Want something?” Leon looked at you, ready to grab anything that you wanted. 

You nodded and thanked him. You did feel bad for making him grab all the things you wanted – especially since you were known to be a menu hog – but you really didn’t have much of a choice. It was either use him to do your bidding or climb over his lap in front of everyone. Just as you were about to ask for your desired dishes and drinks, Leon already knew what to bring to your plate without you needing to tell him. 

Since when did he know your favorite foods? 

.....

“You’re going on the missing girl mission?” 

Leon nodded, persona instantly switching to serious. His jaw tensed, brows furrowed as the tiny wrinkles creased between them. This was usual, almost like a pre-mission ritual of his to get in the mindset of gore, bloodbaths, and bioweapons. Afterall, nothing can prepare a man for the horrors that go on during those missions. Not even you. You've investigated countless missions, earning lead researcher in many strain cases, yet whenever it came to Leon being the leading agent you suddenly had so many questions, overly irrelevant and useless. 

Will you be okay? How long will you be gone? What’s your mission? Will you come back alive? Are you going alone? Is it dangerous? What if you get sick? What if you don’t come-

“Y/N!”

“Huh?” 

“I asked you a question.”

“Oh, sorry,” You slightly winced, holding a hand towards your head and checking to see if you were ill. It was unlikely of you to get distracted so easily. Forcing out a cough, you cleared your throat to compose yourself, “What was your question?” 

“Are you okay?” Leon shares a look of worry, placing a warm hand over your shoulder as if to comfort you while his other hand replaces the one on your forehead, “You don’t seem to be burning up.”

You gulped, tongue and mouth agonizingly dry as your eyes flickering towards his touch. As much as you wanted to shy away, his touch was warm and you craved his heat. It was unlikely of him to be in such near proximity to you, especially when you both could be seen through the glass walls of the briefing room. You averted your gaze, shakily looking at his baby blue eyes so it wasn’t obvious you were fixated on his hands, “Was that the question?”

“No,” Leon admitted with a small frown painting his sharp features, “You just don’t look so well.”

“Just thinking, I guess.”

“About?”

“Your mission.”

A half-lie, half-truth. Sure, you were concerned about his mission. You're highly paid and trained to be worried about these missions, but moreso, your concerns focused on him. In actuality, you didn’t really need to, he always came back safe. On the brink of death sometimes, yes. But, still alive nonetheless. 

He gave a curt nod, “I’ve got training soon, but can I swing by later to get your debrief? It’s your case, you’re the expert. I need all the help in order to save the girl.”

“Of course, how late are you staying at the office?” You brought up your schedule, double checking if there were any meetings you still needed to attend. 

“Actually, I was thinking we could go back to my place?” Leon nervously smiled, eyes squirting slightly, “Um, you know, because I got to sharpen my knives before I go.”

“You want me to debrief you at your place while you sharpen your knives?” The tail end of your tone stretched to be high pitched in your confusion. Was this a joke?

Leon let out an airy chuckle, “Yeah?”

You followed suit, letting out a laugh to ease the confusion, “Sure, I guess, wanna order in?”

“Yeah,” Leon smiled, “Pizza would be nice.” 

“I'll see you then.”

Since when did Leon come up with excuses to see you?

.....

“Pizza’s here!” 

Leon leapt up, putting his knives and sharpening tool on the wooden coffee table and rushing towards the doors to retrieve the pizza, “Thank god, I needed a break.”

You flipped through the debrief packet, only having gone through the first few pages of the hefty pile, “It’s a lot, these people – uh zombies? – are dangerous and fucked. Better to be safe than sorry.” 

“I’ll save the girl, promise.” 

Leon set the pizza box and wings on the table, careful not to let the grease seeping through the cardboard touch the mission materials and quickly left to grab plates and drinks. Meanwhile, you had continued to read aloud whatever essential background information he’d need to understand the nature of this mission. You hadn’t realized you were so heavily engaged in your notes to notice Leon plating two slices and setting a drink for you before helping himself. So, you continued until you heard the sound of Leon’s soft chewing. 

Looking up, you finally noticed that Leon moved to sit on the floor and rest his back on the legs of the sofa. Putting down the packet, you followed him and moved to sit next to him, “I got a bit carried away, huh?”

Leon shared a smile, showing no signs of disdain, “Just a bit. Take a break, we can get back to it later.” 

You held back a yawn, disguising it as you sipped your water and started devouring your pizza. You hadn’t realized how hungry you’ve gotten. You suppose you shouldn’t be skipping lunch anymore, but you knew that you’d probably forget that change in habit the next day. You both ate in silence. Normally, you found silence comfortable, but alone with Leon? You despised it. 

“You look troubled,” Leon scanned your face, “Wanna share?”

You pressed your lips together, indeed you were troubled. The sight of his sharpened knives had invoked the bombardment of concerning questions again. They burned on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. 

“It’s...” You hesitated. 

Leon didn’t speak. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but as if to encourage you, letting you know that all of his attention was on you and that he had no intention of interrupting you. 

You sighed, “I’m just worried.”

“About the mission? I’ll save the girl. When have I ever failed?” Leon smirked. 

For a moment, you laughed as well before becoming solemn again, “Not that, more about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Why?”

Without thinking, you split all the questions you’d been brewing since earlier. Pizza forgotten, you didn’t realize you’d been rambling until you’d run out of breath. Yet, Leon never interrupted you, letting you vent out. 

“Sorry,” You looked away embarrassed, shoving the slice of pizza to prevent you from speaking, “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sure you will take care of yourself.” 

If it had only been a couple of seconds, it felt like excruciating hours had passed from Leon’s silence. The room felt stuffy, the lights felt like they were shining too bright, and the sweat was sticky on the palm of your hands. The voice in your head was begging, crying for him to say something, anything. You didn’t care if he laughed in your face or reassured you. You just needed to hear something from him, so that you didn’t drown in your own thoughts. You had a tendency to overthink. 

You shrinked back, heavy under the gaze of Leon. You didn’t know what to do, so you made an excuse of needing to use the restroom to escape the invisible chokehold. You hovered over the sink, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths to calm yourself. It didn’t help much, but it at least eases your heartbeat back to a normal range. Eyes now open, you pathetically look at yourself in the mirror and internally berate yourself for your foolishness. Has Leon made you lose all your self control now? 

A brisk knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. As much as you didn’t want to face Leon, you couldn’t hide in his bathroom forever. 

“Leon, I-” 

Leon doesn’t wait for you to fully open the door, pushing his way in and pulling your body flush against his. His lips find a way to your neck, sucking and licking at the fragile skin. You were sure they left marks in its wake. Your words are cut off with a quick moan, your hand coming up to cover your mouth in shock. You weren’t sure what made him act this way, but you definitely weren’t complaining. If this is what’s going to distract him from the previous conversation, then you were more than willing to satisfy him. Plus, today was Friday. This was routine. 

Leon’s hands trail all over your body as the both of you stumble back into the living room and fall onto the couch. This was quick, this was sloppy, this was like two horny teenage virgins having sex for the first time. But you were with Leon, so all of that didn’t matter. You didn’t even undress fully, only having discarded your shirt before you got off Leon’s chest and kneeled on the floor to face him as he sat up. Greedily, you pushed up his shirt midway, half-hazardly exposing his tense abs before clinging your hands around the waistband of his sweats and briefs and tugging him free in one motion. 

“Excited there, big boy?” 

Leon’s cock twitched, slapping against his lower abdomen in anticipation. His length was impressive, but his girth was even more breathtaking. His tip glistened under the lights, heavily leaking with precum. You snickered internally with a silent smirk blooming across your face and eyes twinkling with mischief, amused at Leon’s erection from being untouched. 

“Watch it,” Leon’s voice was serious, tone stern and authoritative with his eyes narrowed as he watched you lick your lips at the sight of him. He was always serious and demanding during sex, yet always attentive of your needs. It was one of the things that you loved about him. You had a knack for power imbalance and an even bigger knack for defiance. 

You kissed his thighs, starting from his left knee upwards, skipping his begging cock and back down to his right knee. Leon grunted with displeasure, rolling his eyes at your cheekiness. Just as he was about to get impatient, you moved forward, lips barely brushing against his shaft. He could feel your hot breath, twitching in anticipation once again. Yet, you didn’t want to comply, having too much fun teasing him with your antics, “Watch what-”

Leon narrowed his eyes into slits, annoyance clear on his face and clearly ran out of patience with you. Wordlessly, he dug his large hands under your arms, lifting you up and throwing you roughly where he sat on the couch. Stunned and turned on from the sudden manhandling, there you laid upside down with your head slightly hanging off the edge of the cushion. All you could get out was a squeak of surprise before Leon grabbed your head on both sides to support you and shoved his dick in your mouth and roughly throatfucking you. Immediately, you gagged from the unexpected rough entrance, but loved his abrasiveness with you. Leon watched as you took all of him, throat bulging with every thrust. He basked in the disposition of your bobbing Adam’s apple and the lewd squelches echoing off the living room walls. Leon was normally attentive to your limits; however, he had a habit of getting carried away during oral, leading to you tapping his thigh twice and pushing him off. Instinctively, you spit out your cum mixed saliva as it slowly slid down the side of your cheek and sticking to your hairline. It’d be a bitch to clean later, but you could care less at this moment. 

Eyes opened, you took a deep breath in as you gasped for air. With his left hand, Leon continued to pump himself, slick hands rubbing along his length to keep his high going. With his right hand, Leon caressed your cheek with his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. 

“I’m sorry. Safeword?”

You shook your head, chest heaving, “I’m good, just give me a sec. Don’t worry, I liked it, just haven’t done this in a while.”

Leon nodded, eyes softening with slight guilt although you showed no signs of being upset, “I’ll make it up to you. Promise you’re okay?”

You kept your hand on his thigh as if to tell him that you were okay. Still with one hand, Leon took off his shirt and used it to gently wipe your face. You laughed, finding the delicate gesture humorous as he still stroked himself. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothing.”

You smiled innocently before replacing his hand with yours and sticking your tongue out to accept his length again. Leon hissed out your name, eyebrows crinkling with pleasure. You slurped him one, twice before humming in acknowledgement. The vibrations only elicited another hiss-like moan out of him. Feeding off the noises he was making, you kept at your bobbing head, licking, gagging, and kissing all along him. You took him out of your mouth, cold air blowing against his shaft causing him to shiver. He was close, and you both knew it. 

“Choke me.” 

It was a simple demand, but it was the green light that Leon needed to resume throatfucking you. You put your hands down, using one to sneak into your pants and circle your aching clit. You hummed against Leon, earning a satisfied grunt from him, “Keep that up and you’re gonna have to swallow.”

He released his hold from you, letting you have a moment of air. You looked up at him, challenging, “Good thing I like the way you taste, Kennedy.”

Leon responded to you with a short grunt, but you didn’t fail to miss the slight flush on his face before he thrusted himself back into your awaiting mouth. His thrusts were much more forceful and rough, basically pushing your body deeper into the plushness of the couch. Your fingers switched from rubbing your clit to inserting your fingers inside yourself. Leon’s hold on your waist kept you pinned to the couch before moving to pull your pants down to view the sight of you finger fucking yourself. He never liked it when you touched yourself when with him, but at least he could watch you while you did. Must be a pride and ego thing, you thought. 

He also didn’t like when you had too much clothes on. Albeit you were definitely no less than conservative at this moment, Leon just noticed you had your bra on the whole time. He didn’t like that. His hands swiftly moved from the dip of your waist to push down the straps of your bra and expose your jiggling tits. Moments like this, Leon became obsessed with every curvature of you, latching both hands on your breasts to hold as he pounded rougher into you. 

“Almost done,” He choked out like he was the one out of breath. Borderline whimpering and whining at this point, begging for release. 

You encouraged him by using your free hand to grab his hip and guide him. Three thrusts later, Leon’s hips stuttered and knees fell slack as he released his hot, thick ropes of cum into your mouth. You pulled away, lapping up every ounce he gave you. 

“Still okay?” Leon asked, breathless. 

You nodded.

“Say it.”

“I’m okay,” You confirmed, moving to sit upright. 

“Need a break?”

You shook your head, greedily bringing his hips towards you. He looked down towards your slit, messily covered in your slick, “Who’s excited now, hm?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing, “Shut up, Kennedy.”

He smirked, teasing you, “Don’t want it now?”

You sighed in defeat, needing to cum more than needing to save your pride. You gave Leon your best pleading eyes, brows creasing in desperation, “I do want you. Please, I need you. I need you to make me cum.”

“There we go,” Leon cooed, “How would you like me? You have to tell me what you want.”

“Please, please, I want your tongue,” You sighed, “I want to cum on your tongue.”

Thoughts about begging Leon to get to it and rail crossed your mind; however, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to beg him to eat you out. Not that it wasn’t often, it was just a special treat and you were always the type to take advantage of your situations. You’d been missing his tongue, and you craved his expertise and enthusiasm despite the snarky comments that came with it. 

“Copy that, agent,” Leon smirked, bending down and lifting your legs over his shoulders to bury his head in between your legs and licking a long stripe up your cunt, stopping to engulf his lips around your clit. 

You sighed with bliss, curling your fingers into his hair and giving a taught tug to his blonde locks. Leon released his hold, blowing on your clit as he gripped your thighs tighter and spread them further, “Behave.” 

He went to delve his tongue back into you until the shrill sound of his ringtone echoed, taking you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon shook you off as you tried to push him away, “Ignore it.”

“But-” 

“I said leave it.”

The ringtone ceased, leaving the sounds back to being Leon’s tongue pushing in and out of your hole. Only a moment later, the ringtone came back to life and now taking the both of you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon threw his head back with a frustrated groan, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You bite your lip, can’t help but hold back your curiosity, “Who is it?”

“The President.”

.....

Leon was leaving. Leon was leaving for Spain. Leon was leaving for Spain to fight against an infected cult to save the President’s daughter in an hour. 

Arguably, you were more nervous about his departure than him. Actually, you were more nervous than he was. All your questions from the previous night flooding your mind again. So, you took it to the company gym to let out your worries. A researcher usually doesn't occupy the training room, but you need the stress relief. Why? Because your other stress reliever was leaving the country! 

“You’re hurting yourself,” Leon leaned against the door frame, clad in his tight tactical gear. Hip pouches and combat knife strapped securely on his sturdy figure, combat boots tightly tied and double knotted, and most importantly his handgun safely holstered along his belt. Although you hated the reason why he was in his uniform, you can’t help but drool over him. 

You’d known you pushed yourself past your limit a while ago. The sting of your knuckles along with the faint patches of blood staining the fabric of the punching bag made it obvious. You’d been bleeding through your wrap for a while, but you didn’t care as the pain helped you forget about your worries. Technically, this was equally helping as it was hurting you. 

Meanwhile, Leon pushed himself off the wall, steadily walking over towards you and grabbing both your wrists. You glanced up through your lashes, staring a bit too long in his baby blue eyes, “Shouldn’t you be gone already?”

Letting go, Leon panged fake hurt from your words, “Want me gone already?”

“You know what I meant, Kennedy,” You continued throwing punches, despite Leon’s disapproving looks. Regardless, you were thankful that he didn’t try to stop you. 

“Flight leaves in an hour or so, just doing my last double checks on equipment and saying my goodbyes.”

You raised a sweaty brow with doubt, freezing mid punch and fist never meeting the punching bag, “You don’t say goodbyes.”

“I don’t.”

“So, what are you doing here?” 

“Am I not allowed to be here?” Leon perked up, knowing that he would overturn you in any conversation. You stared at each other in silence, challenging the other person to say something first. Sighing, you broke eye contact, going back to punching, “You should bring a jacket. I heard the weather is pretty bad over there. Plus, you don’t look very inconspicuous.”

“Outfit screams “On my way to save the President’s daughter from contagious B.O.W.s,” right?” Leon laughed, “But, what’s on your mind?”

You half shrugged, “Just got some stuff on my mind.”

“Like?”

You. 

“The mission.”

Leon nodded, face turning stern as if he were calculating battle tactics in his head already, “Same.”

Silence fell over the both of you again, but this time, awkward. You cleared your throat, turning away from Leon to grab at your water bottle, “Nervous?”

“Not really,” Leon’s demeanor switched to devious, “Honestly, just want to get this over with. I got some unfinished business.” 

“Unfinished business?”

Leon’s eyes held a glint in them, patiently waiting for you to catch on. 

Unfinished business. Your unfinished business. You never got to finish. 

You slapped Leon on his upper chest with a hiss, “You can’t be serious!” 

“But, I am.”

“We’re at work!” 

“And?”

You gawked at him in complete disbelief, “And? Um, I don’t know, we could get caught, we could lose our jobs!” 

Leon shugged, smiling confidently, “There’s no cameras.”

“Someone could hear us!” 

“Only if you’re loud.”

You hated the smug look on his face, knowing that you were pretty vocal. It was only until your eyes followed his as he watched you subconsciously squirm and press your thighs together. Leon gently grabbed your shoulders, pressing soothing circles on your skin, "Do you trust me?" 

The look in his eyes was so fierce, your lips quivered, "With my life." 

Leon's hands slid down your arms and snaked them around the curvature of your ass before supporting the back of your thighs, "Jump." 

And, you did. Instantly, Leon's lips peppered your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You cringed, thinking about the accumulated sweat from your workout session, but Leon didn't seem to mind. He'd make you sweat even more pretty soon anyways. You sighed with pleasure, running your hands along his arms and feeling the firmness of his biceps under your fingertips. Whilst distracted by the heat of his touch, Leon took his chance and backed you up towards the Smith machine.

“Leon, what are you-” 

He hushed a whisper in your ear, causing a shudder through your spine, “You trust me, right?”

Leon looked at you, pausing all movement until you spoke a soft, “Yes.”

“Good,” Leon glanced at you through the mirrors spanning across the entire wall of the gym, “Remember to be quiet.”

Leon unraveled your blood stained hand wraps, lacing them together over your wrists and over the bar while effectively tying your hands tightly against it. Once finished, Leon gripped his hands over the ridges on the bar, unhooking it and effortlessly lifting the bar onto a higher post on the machine. You definitely didn’t miss the bulge of his biceps. Through the mirror, your arms were outstretched way above your head with the soles of your shoes firmly touching the ground. 

Leon moved in front of you, back now facing the mirror while keeping eye contact with you the whole time. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

He pulled down your pants, noticing the lack of undergarments. He raised a brow and teasing smile itched to bloom across his quivering lips. 

“Shut up, it’s easier to workout in,” You huffed, a bright blush rushing across your face. 

Leon hummed in satisfaction, “It’s easier to eat out too.” 

“Hey-” 

Your scolding fizzled out into a loud moan as Leon repositioned your legs and dove under you with his tongue flicking your clit. His hands traveled up and down your legs, taking the time to squish your plush thighs. Leon kept his rhythm for a moment before pausing, “I thought I told you to be quiet. Unless you like the idea of being caught.”

You involuntarily clenched at his teasing, jaw tightening from your lack of composure, “Hurry, you don’t have that much time yet.”

“Don’t need that much anyways.”

Leon uses his hands to push away your legs, running his fingers up and down the skin of your thighs. He grips them every so often before sliding his hand around, cupping the crease just below your ass, and firmly tugging you forward with his tongue stuck out along your slit. You choked out a sigh, careful not to be too loud as you threw your head back in pleasure. With the guidance of Leon’s hand, your hips began grinding on Leon’s tongue as he licked and lapped your dripping sweetness. The sight of yourself through the mirror was lewd 

“I’m- I’m almost-” 

“Hold on for me.”

Leon meant it metaphorically, wanting to show off the skills of his tongue and mouth just a bit more. But he also meant physically as Leon hoisted your thighs upon his shoulders, carrying most of your weight with the help of his arms hugging you secured around your lower back. Regardless, you’d instinctively grabbed the metal bar, flexing your arms to hold yourself up. Half not to crush your weight on Leon, and the other half in need of something to grip while waves of pleasure ruined you. 

You thrust your hips forward, needing more of Leon as you ached for him, “Please, almost there.” 

Leon pushed you closer towards him, hoisting you higher so that his face was centered at your core. Leon pushed his tongue deeper into you just as you reached the apex of your climax. A deep sigh of relief came over you as you ground the last of your ecstasy onto Leon and just in time for his flight departure. Gently, he set you down, pulling your pants up for you and untying your restraints. Without saying anything, he took off your hand wraps entirely, blowing cool air on your scratched knuckles, “Take care of this later.” 

“Take care of your mission.”

Leon nodded, switching back into his agent persona. You watched him begin to walk away before he hesitated right as he passed through the door frame, “Hey.”

“Yeah?” You cast him a longing look. 

“I’m going to come back, okay? Promise.”

Since when did Leon make promises? 

[quitealotofsodapop]

Theory on that Crimson Jimson-Weed;

So I was re-watching "To Catch a Leaf" like any good Sandy-fan when I recognised the name of the flower (Crimson Jimsonweed/Scarlet Mandala flower) being something I encountered in my horticulture/pharma studies;

You see, Jimsonweed is another name for Datura - a super-toxic nightshade flower known for it's psychoactive effects that was occasionally used in traditional Chinese medicine. A few seeds or leaves is enough to send someone into days-long potentially fatal delirium. Monk in India particularly used it to induce horror/madness in order to have a better understanding of the world.

My first thought was; "Why tf would Sandy reccomend a flower that's like a million acid trips in one?" and second "Why did LBD need it?"

According to Sandy the Crimson Jimsonweed can "influence mortality itself" - something that would be very useful if your opponent is someone who's pretty protective of their immortality. NO wonder why LBD was pissed. Huntsman "only" taking a single petal could have saved the gang's lives in the long run.

And I thought: "Cool!"

And then I was researching an au idea/theory @dorothygale123 brought up about "Shennong/The Flame Emperor/Divine Peasant" having connections to the Demon Bull King and Red Son; only to read how he (a primordial god of fire and medicine) died;

You see, after he retired/lost the godly throne, Shennong decided to put his brain and super-durable/transparent stomach to use and self-experiment on himself and document the results. He apparently got poisoned quite a lot in his research (he also discovered many ways to get high) to classify all plant life.

Ultimately Shennong died after eating a "small yellow flower" and being unable to find an antidote or "clean out his instestine" in time. Kind of a sad but expected end to the chinese mythos version of the first farmer-scientist. A rule of medicine is that anything that can heal can also kill at a certain dosage.

But the flower that killed him is up for debate. The book I have suggests it to be "Intestine-Breaking/Heartbreak Grass"(Gelsemium sempervirens). This Oxford paper suggests Tansy, an old treatment for worms. But a common theme is that the "flower of a weed" was the cause.

After my research into Jimsonweed and it's connections to mortality in Buddhism I must suggest a hidden culpurit;

This could be my mild red-colourblindness acting up; but The flower we see throughout the "To Catch a Leaf" is gotdamn yellow.

The flower that can "influence mortality itself" would be the perfect candiate for what killed the legendary Divine Peasant.

Makes sense why Sandy decided to instead brew a very small part of it into tea for MK. He likely read Shennong's research and realised that this super-rare variant of Jimsonweed *was* an amazing tonic... in the right dosage of course. Hence why Sandy didn't feed MK the whole flower.

[fabseg-creator]

Miraculous fanart: Cerisette/Lilanette Re-Verse (MLB Femslash February/Rock Band AU)

Day 15: Marinette and Lila/Cerise (Faulty; Rock)

This is the full colored version of the Cerisette Rock Band AU.

This happens in the Re-Verse from the Miraculous Paris special: Lila/Cerise and Marinette play rock music and form a duo together before merging with the Kitty Resistance (Rose, Juleka, Luka and Ivan). Lila/Cerise plays electric guitar and Marinette plays keyboard. And they make an illegal concert. In this AU, the Supreme from the Re-Verse has forbidden the music. The latter's logo gets vandalized.

Lila/Cerise's hair is a wig with a sky-blue dye. Marinette is just Emonette-Shadybug.

Marinette is the Ladybug and Cerise is the new Hesperia for this concept.

We can see Marinette is blushing about her music partner.

About their music, the two girls compose the instrumental part. It's the band Kitty Resistance who perfoms the vocal and parts.

This fanart is made for the @mlbfemslashfebruary event.

Bonus (variants):

Playlist of Marinette and Cerise eventual covers in collaboration with the Kitty Resistance/Kitty Section:

Muse - Uprising

U2 - Pride (In The Name Of Love)

AC/DC - Highway To Hell; Thunderstruck

Guns N'Roses - Welcome To The Jungle; You Could Be Mine

Twister Sister - I Wanna Rock

Nirvana - Smells Like Spirit

Kenny Loggins - Footloose

Evanescence - Bring Me To Life

Zedd ft. Ariana Grande - Break Free

Europe - The Final Countdown

Bon Jovi - It's My Life; You Give Love A Bad Name

Johnny Hallyday - Allumer Le Feu (french)

Linkin Park - Numb

Pink Floyd - Another Brick In The Wall

Lady Gaga - Born This Way; Perfect Illusion; Bad Romance; Shallow (ft. Bradley Cooper)

Mötley Crüe - Kickstart My Heart

Aerosmith - Dream On

Queen - We Will Rock You; I Want It All; The Show Must Go On; I Want To Break Free

The Police - So Lonely; Every Breath You Take

Coldplay - A Sky Full Of Stars; My Universe (ft. BTS)

Van Halen - Panama

The Who - Baba O'Riley

Kiss - I was Made For Loving You

Initial sketch here:

This fanart has been made the 20th January 2024.

Femslash Colletction:

[lexytoga]

Since kang is gone i wanted share this idea I saw a art on Pinterest for-

part 1 out of ??? (part 2)

An au where older loki is revealed to be he who remains at the end of time, kinda like how in agent of Asgard it was revealed older loki was trying to kill his younger self, something like that, but older loki was trying to get rid of his past of being a villain by removing all his variants so they don't end up as the faith as him which is always dying by more powerful beings

I think this older loki would the comic of classic mad loki- (which I love alot lmao-) but more powerful to the point he removed his timeline and created the TVA to erase his variants and since he needs someone to replace him when he gets over thrown that's where TVA loki comes in, he was supposed to be the next he who remains

Idk it's a work in progress au- I will change it when I re-read agent of asgard

[generalluxun]

Chloe Travels back in tie AU question, but what is her Akuma like?

I always feel Akuma re meant to reflect the person changed, with those who have notably strong but distinct drives, despairs or obsessions (Or just a lot of character growth) having more than one, while more stagnant people end to return to form so to speak.

Anyway, my mind, with a Chloe in this kind of head-sace would be Obsidia (She's dropped the Queen theme cos Audrey sucks too actually) Despite her new and well established standard of "Audrey sucks" the powers are annoyingly similar, but Chloe's are a vastly improved variant.

IE, her body is made of obsidian class, she is constantly cracking and reforming (A reflection of her disintegrating mental health She can swiftly alter the shape, form and density of the glass which is primarily used to make blades, claws and other cutting implements given Obsidians sharp nature.

So for example she could point her finger and then boom, its suddenly a super long blade piercing whatever is on the other side of a given room.

She can also turn herself into glass particles to fly and dodge, as well as grow her form by absorbing and converting the glass or even sand around her to increase her material mass or make herself giant, or otherwise shape shift, ETC.

This is also meant to reflect the fact Chloe is sharp, dangerous but frankly very fragile, IE, Obsidian is a supreme cutting implement but can shatter. Chloe's form is constantly shattering but she's reforming it just as fast, its sheer willpower and rage keeping her together at this point and that is all that keeps Obsidia from disintegrating.

Okay first off-this is a very cool akuma design! If you are writing you should definitely use it! I could see working it into a different fic, but it might be too much for this particular AU. The focus here is on emotional trauma not physical danger, and since it's a season 1 throwback I'd like to keep it less 'lethal' overall.

So perhaps... 'Miracle Queen' suits our usage with a face lift, minus the bee theme. It's less 'look at me' Queen and more 'I am better than you!' Queen. Her power is 'Queen's Battle'(with a nod back to the S2 name) which isolates her and one other person in their own little pocket-dual dimension. Since she thinks she can beat them H2H(like with Mayura) she's cutting them off from their friends, just like she is cut off and alone.

This also neatly explains why LB couldn't find her partner in time to intervene. And upon winning it finally sinks in that... She's not the hero right now, she's the badguy. Hence, breaking the akumatization and fleeing.

[mallywarez]

Some references for an AU of mine! Sooo here's some AU lore infodump below!

The Sentient / Re-Animated Objects:

Objects in this universe are "re-animated". This means they become sentient after a couple months of isolation from humans. The objects are given this sentience after a human loses interaction with said object and abandons it.

They are namely classified as objects due to:

-Segmented limbs (like bugs), but they can also resemble branches/plants and/or paper/similar material. (They can also vary in size and segmented parts lengths.) And limbs are never directly attached to the body. Parts of the limbs are connected. They also never have appendages minus the thumb.

-Unique eye shapes. Every object that is re-animated has it's own unique eye shape. Although some can have the same eye shapes. (Not all shapes have to be angular!)

Machines:

Object-made creations that were invented for accessibility reasons, but most have become sentient and no longer need a "function" to exist.

Machines are classified by:

-Robotic limbs. Usually similarly built to segmented parts, but are never truly segmented. (Only really like how limbs are portrayed in the drawing above. There can be variants, but it's not common.)

-Faces are usually defined by lines. Eyes and mouths are usually simplistic lines and never a true shape.

Algebraliens:

Beings usually not involved with humans, objects, machines, etc...They have generally the same characteristics and lore as in the show, but a bit different. They're not entirely opposed to interacting with objects, humans, machines, etc...

Algebraliens are usually defined:

-They're usually mammalian in features and form. They are more-so closely resembled to plush toys. (There can be non-mammalian Algebraliens!)

-No distinct nose.

-Eyes are usually wide and circular. They have unique pupils.

Humans:

A near extinct and almost forgotten about species. They are usually isolated and tucked away from most other life. Very rarely are spotted or are interacting with others.

Characteristics of humans:

-Stick figures usually. Can be varying different types of stick figure.

-They have "magic". Although, it's moreso classified as "humanity influence" as their existence singlehandedly (and accidently) created sentient objects. Usually objects are re-animated when they abandon or are no longer nearby them.

Demi-Gods:

Unexplainable forces that exist within the world. They simply exist because they can and will.

Notable features of demi-gods:

-Usually no discernable face, features, or even a proper "body".

-They usually are not classified as "sentient", but if around other life for long enough they can be sentient. Normally, they start off as detached in behavior, but over time can develop their own personalities.

-If there is a face, it's usually simple and has no irises.

-Can be any size and anywhere.

[peppermintflavoredlove]

LOCKING IN. borrower!jay au stuff under cut

notes thus far:

-has BIG ass ears, even for a borrower. unfortunately, tends to subconsciously tune things out when focused anyway

-among the rarer variants of borrower, possessing traits of a large animal rather than a small house pest as is typical. poses somewhat of a disadvantage as he does make noise when he walks on hard surfaces, and his tail isnt as prehensile as is standard

-still a very skilled tinkerer, as he (DEFINITELY NOT BACKTRACKING ON SOMETHING I ALREADY SAID ->) spent many of his early years in the junkyard with ed and edna.

-wasn't abandoned as early on as he was in canon, so he was still socialized to fear humans. trusts ed and edna as they are the closest to real parents he ever had, but is naturally skittish around them despite it. also considers them as the exception rather than the rule, and, as his birth parents drilled into his head from as soon as he understood words, avoids any other humans. once he ends up at the monastery (for reasons im still working out, but i know it probably wasnt purposeful..) leads a very average borrower lifestyle up until:

-zane is, naturally, the one who finds him, given that he does random bullshit at night. i imagine he's less concerned with the fact that there is a tiny man in the kitchen but more so with the fact that said tiny man is stealing, and then far more concerned with the fact that what he's stealing is food. he completely fails to understand the purpose of the borrower's code and merely wonders why one would resort to theft in order to eat instead of just asking for food.

-given zane's very mild reaction to him and eventual offers of a free meal, zane is the one jay ends up trusting first and the most. you all know im a zane/jay bestieship truther through and through

re: zane, while nya is the one who does most larger repairs on him, jay is the perfect candidate for working out intricate details and fix deeper internal damage, as he's able to simply climb in and wriggle through to reach the damaged part

can you tell i like zane

[nyktoon]

Every once in a while, I decide I need to go back to Sans's sprite and re-decide how I want to draw him, particularly his head shape and eye socket shape. And then I usually go of the rails seeing how I'd tweak things for his variants, which definitely happened this time.

Red and Blue here are kind of just what I use as a default placeholder look for Reds and Blues in general -- they're not the canon designs or from any particular interpretation of their AUs, and that's true of Dust here, too. The Horrors are from two separate Horror AU ideas I'm kicking around, but they're very Halloween Town Horrors: they look kinda scary, but they're not malicious. And then Killer and Error here are pretty much straight lifted from their canon, visually.

The bottom set of four are from @popatochisssp and you can easily read more about them using her Undertale Skeleton's Master Post. Slate and Jasper are from Wave 1, and Ash and Brick are from Wave 2. I really like them, and I think you probably would like them too, if you don't aready :3c But if you're not into Sanses, or these types of Sanses, there are a bunch of Papyri and Swap / Swapfell Sanses you might enjoy! (Edit: fixed so all the colors have the appropriate hex code colors as assigned in their reference post.)