#for better or worse au

[verfound]

FIC: "She Didn't Want That Day" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

For Better or Worse AU - Whump, No Happy Ending, Mind the Tags, etc.

Read on Ao3

Prompt 60: “Love is a choice, and I’ve made mine.”

She didn’t remember the building looking so…normal before.

But then again, it had been a long time since she’d bothered paying it any mind.  She could barely…no.  Not barely.  She could remember all too well the last time she had been there – the last time her papa had let her be there.

His hand had been so big around hers, back then.  So much bigger than it had felt a few weeks before, when…

She still remembered the screaming woman inside, too.  Much as she wished she didn’t.

Still.

She had no choice now, did she?  She had made a promise, and Couffaines kept their promises.

It was a good day.  One of his last good days.

Looking at him now, you’d never know…but she did know.  And that was the problem, wasn’t it?  She couldn’t not know.  He hadn’t wanted to tell her at first – hadn’t known how – but now that the whole ugly truth was out there…she saw it every time she looked at him.

He was dying, and a large part of her…a mean, hard part of her that was only natural, growing up the way she had…she wished he would just get on with it.

“I need you to promise me something,” he said, his voice quieter than she ever remembered it being before.  Quieter even than Aunt Juleka’s.  He was looking out the window, his fingers moving idly over the old guitar in his lap as he watched the cherry blossom branches move with the early spring wind.

He had told her once this had been her mother’s favorite time of year.  Her mother had supposedly planted that tree, back when they’d first moved in to the old house.  Back before everything had ‘fallen apart’ – when they had planned on actually filling the place with a family, one that would have had a swing hanging from one of the branches some day.

She didn’t remember that.

She had never met that Marinette Couffaine.

She’d been told she would have loved her.

“Of course, Papa,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if she meant it.  His lips quirked in a small, knowing smile – like he already knew she wouldn’t be keeping her promise.

“Make sure you visit your maman every now and then, all right?” he asked.  He had started playing that old song he always seemed to slip into, the one he had once told her was for happier times.  She had always hated the stupid thing – every time he played it he just sounded…stuck.  “She’ll need someone.  It should be you.”

“…I’ll try,” she said, though they both knew she hated the idea.  She didn’t understand why it needed to be her.  It’s not like her moth…it’s not like Marinette had any idea who she was, anyway.

“Harmony…” he sighed, his fingers stilling as he looked up at her.  He looked so…tired.  Worn.  “Please, sweetheart.  For me.”

She swallowed, her throat feeling too tight, and nodded.  She would.  For him.  Because she did love him, against her better wisdom.

…he had always tried.  She knew fathers who hadn’t even done that much.  Marinette was how she was because of one such father, if the stories – the ‘legends’ – of the great Ladybug were to be believed.

She had never put much stock in them, herself.  Sure, New York had its heroes, but magical jewelry?

It was a fairytale, and when you grew up with a mother who was batshit crazy…well.

Harmonika Couffaine had never put much stock in fairytales.

“Papa?” she asked after a long moment had passed.  After he had started playing again.  He hummed, and she sighed.  “Why…why do you keep going?  Why didn’t you just…you could have divorced her.  Found someone else.”

Given me a real mother, she thought bitterly.

“No one would have blamed you,” she said.  “It couldn’t have been that hard, given…everything.”

He stopped playing again, his gaze turning back to the tree.  That little smile was back on his face.  The one he got when he was thinking about her mother, of the way she used to be.  Back before she had been born.

“…no,” he finally said, leaning his head back against his chair.  “I suppose it wouldn’t have been.”

“But you didn’t,” she said, frowning.  “You stayed married to her.  You go visit her almost every single day.  You…Papa.  You put your entire life on hold for someone who doesn’t even remember you.”

“She remembers me, sweetheart,” he said, closing his eyes.  Harmony frowned, unconvinced.  After another moment, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again.  “It’s not that simple, baby.  I couldn’t just…walk away from her.”

“You could have,” Harmony insisted, but he shook his head and turned back towards her.

“No, Harmony, I couldn’t have,” he said, his voice firm.  Stronger than she had heard in a while.  “Love is a choice, Harmonika Couffaine, and I made mine a long time ago.”

She looked away, and for a moment…it was so strange, but the heat creeping up her neck almost felt like shame.

“…of course, Papa,” she said, and the smile he gave her almost looked relieved.  He sank back into his chair, his fingers returning to his guitar.  Playing that same damn song again.

“Thank you, Harmony.”

…that was what had decided it, in the end.  The look on her papa’s face as he made her promise to check in on her mother.  Not every day, but…every now and then.  Just to make sure someone was.

Because that’s what he had worried about, in the end.  Making sure Marinette Couffaine knew she hadn’t been forgotten, even when Marinette Couffaine didn’t know anything else.

He hadn’t worried about his own daughter.

Of course he hadn’t – because love was a choice, and he had always chosen Marinette first.

…her aunts would tell her she wasn’t being fair.  They had been reminding her of that a lot the past few weeks, but she didn’t think that was very fair of them, either.  After all, they had known Luka and Marinette Before.  She supposed it was easier to forgive someone of their present when you could still be comforted by memories of their past.

Her Granarchy would just remind her it wasn’t right to speak ill of the dead, things being what they were.

…she would be kinder later.  When the hurt wasn’t as fresh.  When the grave dirt had given way to grass.  When she could remember their own good times without anger and resentment.

When the words Luka Couffaine is dead didn’t make her chest burn and ache like a fresh wound.

The breeze was warmer when it blew past her, tossing her bleached hair into her face.  She pushed it back with a frown, swallowing as she looked back up at the building.

It looked so…innocent.  Like any other house in Paris.

She remembered it looking…bigger.  More intimidating.

Scarier.

“All right, Papa,” she said, taking a deep breath of warm, late spring air.  She looked down at the flowers in her hands, her stomach twisting unpleasantly.  Cherry blossoms, because they had always been her favorite.  Her signature.  In pink, because she used to be pink.  And white, because…well.  Mamie used to say it was a funeral color, in her home country.

It had seemed fitting, when Auntie Rose had helped her arrange it in the shop.

“She’ll love them,” she had promised, squeezing her hand.  “She’ll be so glad to see you, Harmony.”

Harmony couldn’t believe that.

Marinette had never been glad to see her before.

Marinette had never known her before.

She took another deep breath and steeled herself.

“Ok, Couffaine,” she said, glaring up at the building.  “You made a promise.”

She took a step.

[miaogo]

Savior Au (part 1) Realization

(I know the dialogue is kinda rushed, but I want to get my point across)

Color will be shown when things need to stand out mostly

[pixlokita]

A very glazed page 39

Previous - next - first

[nadiasna7]

What if WWX lived to see his forties in his original body (without the core, of course)

[bunnieswithknives]

OH MY GOD??? HAS IT SERIOUSLY BEEN A MONTH????? I am so sorry guys

Prev | Next

[rhiangalaxy]

Shen Jiu and his plant son Shen Yuan <3 (ft. a bonus of YGY and LGG's very different methods of babysitting)

[ID: A Scum Villain Drawing. Shen Jiu holds Shen Yuan is his arms, staring towards the audience with a slightly scary, unamused expression. In his arms, Shen Yuan, dressed in Qing Jing teals and greens, appearing to be around the ages of four-six with a darker skin tone, a mole on his forehead and a green sprout popping out of his head, is gazing and reaching out amazedly at a demonic butterfly. End ID]

[ID: A Scum Villain Drawing. The top half depicts Yue Qingyuan, cradling a Shen Yuan that is wrapped in blankets and smiling. Then leaning in to give him a forehead kiss. The bottom half depicts Liu Qingge lifting SY by the ankle, much to SY's delight, and then moving him around to the back of himself with a faintly amused expression. End ID]

[starry-bi-sky]

this just in: danny fenton is just as much of a mask as Brucie Wayne? - another danyal al ghul au

Turns out, being placed in a civilian family who have no knowledge of your background is actually detrimental to the health and development of a child assassin due to lack of proper support! Surrounded by strangers in a foreign city, Danyal Al Ghul does as assassins do best. He hides. Espionage is one of many teachings one learns in the League, and it only takes half a day for Danyal to construct a new persona to hide behind: Daniel Fenton.

By the time dinner rolls around, Danyal al Ghul is safely and securely tucked behind the face of Danny Fenton; brand new adoptive child of the Fenton family who came from overseas. A shy, quiet little boy with a thick accent and curly hair, with brown skin and blue eyes, and an avid interest in the stars. The best fictions are always cobbled together in a little bit of truth, it's some of the only truth he ever lets through. He apologizes in a meek voice for his behavior early, he didn't mean to be rude, and he watches the three of them eat it up with coos.

Lies roll like silk against his lips, he struggles to meet their eyes and offers them his weakest, shyest smile. It's too easy. It's easy to go from there.

Danny Fenton, adoptive son, shy and awkward and unconfident but friendly. Who struggles in his classes and isn't the brightest, but tries his hardest. He makes bad jokes and has a quick tongue and a sarcastic mouth. He wants to be an astronaut. He's got the best aim in school, and is a terrifying dodgeball player. He's one of the least athletic kids in his grade.

It's like playing two truths and a lie, but there's only one truth, and the rest are lies. It's easy to pretend when he knows it's insincere.

Danyal Al Ghul, grandson to the Demon Head. Deadly, trained assassin. Has spilled blood, has had blood spilt from. Environmentalist, animal activist. He loves the stars. He owns a calligraphy set. A sharp tongue, an even sharper blade. He's clever, quick-witted, he would be top of his grade if he tried harder. He purposely doesn't.

He misses his family. He misses his mother, and he misses his brother. Mother visits a few times a year, so few times that he can count it on both hands. He cherishes every visit, as brief as they are. It helps remind him who he is.

Sam and Tucker are Danny's best friends. They've never met Danyal, but Danyal's met them.

It becomes routine to become Danny Fenton. As familiar and as easy as pulling on a shirt in the morning. Danyal wakes up and is always first to the bathroom in the mornings; stares at himself in the mirror until he can finally see Danny staring back at him. At night, he locks his door and sheds the mask.

Dying throws a wrench in his mask; splits a crack straight through the porcelain. He's able to smooth it over with sandpaper and liquid gold, but it's a little hard keeping his ghost form under wraps. It instinctively wants to shift to show his true self. Danyal can't have that, he's spent four years as Danny Fenton, he'll spend another four as him as well. Even if the feeling of the hazmat suit in his ghost form feels restrictive, like a too-small shirt suctioned to his skin that needs to be peeled off.

He'll live. Er-- well, you know what he means. It's frustrating however, trying to keep his Danny Fenton mask up even as Phantom - fighting in the air is something he needs to get used to, and the sudden propping of powers throws him off. But he is nothing if not adaptive, and he hates that he needs to slow his own skills down in order to keep pretenses up in front of Sam and Tucker.

The first time Danyal summons a sword when he's alone, is one of the few times Danyal gets to grin instead of Danny. He's fighting Skulker, and from an invisible hilt he draws a katana from thin air. It startles them both. Skulker takes a step back at the smile that spreads across his face.

They're both silent as Danyal examines his new sword.

"Do you know what people like me do to people like you, poacher?" Danyal finally asks him, the accent he began to hide a few months in slipping through. He drops all pretense, dragging the flat end of the blade slow and appreciatively against his palm. It's a good make, and when he cuts it through the air, it slices through like butter. He looks up at Skulker with a smile; "are you ready to find out?"

When Sam and Tucker ask about why Skulker seems so skittish around Danny now, Danny shrugs at them and says with a playful smile; "I don't know, I guess I kicked his butt too hard after our last fight." and he watches as Sam rolls her eyes exasperatedly, and Tucker snickers with his own joke.

By the time he reunites with Damian before their 15th birthday, Danyal is buried beneath so many layers of Danny Fenton that his brother will need a shovel to dig him out. He's not sure what he'll find.

[ominouspuff]

Repurposing GAR armor towards the end of pulverizing wrinkly Sith

— A guide by CC-1010, ecstatically-ex-marshal commander of Coruscant

A what-if au featuring the Corries pulling all-nighters fueled on caf alone to study republic law, Fox providing his own dubious legal representation resulting in the wildest civil court case in Republic history, and, they can only pray, formidable and clandestine cooperation within GAR high command’s clone contingents via a small-scale GAR-approved candy brand

[happypeachsludgeflower]

So, in PIDW, there was obviously wife plots that could bring back the dead (mushroom body being one of them), and since we know Airplane is a hack that reuses concepts over and over, there’s probably multiple wife plots that could work, so like, where’s the PIDW fics where Liu Qingge somehow comes back to life, memories of Shen Jiu trying to save him intact, and goes to hunt the asshole down so he can repay his life debt, and along the way accidentally clears Shen Jiu’s name of all his crimes and now everyone is convinced Shen Qingqiu is a saint.

[edorazzi]

Page 24 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which baby Felix continues his futile attempts to remove the ring, and Plagg is a deeply unsympathetic peanut gallery! 💍🤡

Index | Start | Prev | Next

Weekly updates each Sunday! You can also read ahead early on Patreon, and/or buy me a Ko-fi if you'd like to support my work! 💖

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS x ISAT part 1: In Stars and Necromancy.

(Part 2)

[verfound]

FIC: "All Her Days" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

Companion to It's a Good Day

Read on Ao3

09 September 2024

Prompt 21: Escape

“Aaaand…done,” she said, smiling as she stepped back from the wall.  She laid her hands on her still-flat stomach, absently rubbing as she considered her work.  “What do you think, Tikki?  Think he’ll like it?”

There was no answer.

She giggled anyway, turning from the room to let the paint dry.  She had left the window open, but it probably wasn’t good to be around those fumes any longer than necessary.

“You’re right,” she said, her hands still on her stomach.  “Of course he will.  He’s going to be so excited…”

She’d waited long enough.  It was about time they let themselves hope again.

She wasn’t showing yet, but keeping the secret from her husband had been killing her.  It had seemed like a good idea at first, what with the new threat to the city.  She had known if she’d told Luka he would make her stop, insist on wielding the Ladybug himself, but protecting Paris had always been her responsibility first.

“You have new responsibilities now,” he would have said.  “You have support.  Let us – let me – help you.”

And he probably would have been right, but…she hadn’t been certain at first, and she hadn’t wanted to get him worried – to get his hopes up – until she was.  And then once she’d known…well.  The threat had been neutralized quick enough, but then he’d had to go on tour, and now…

She sat down at the kitchen counter, pulling her lukewarm mug of tea over.  He’d be home any time now, and then she’d show him the nursery she had started decorating, and he’d know, and oh, he was going to be so excited…

She felt a fluttering in her stomach, and she knew it was crazy – surely it was too soon? – but she laid a hand over their little someone and smiled.

“I know, sweetie,” she said.  “I’m excited, too.”

She heard a noise by the door – keys in the lock? – and looked up, her smile growing.  Speak of the devil…

She put her tea down and rushed over to the front door, quickly unlocking it and throwing it wide.

“Welcome…oh,” she said, blinking as she stared into the nursery.  She took a hesitant step in, her brow furrowing as she looked around.  The crib was set up in the corner, the paint long-since dried (and replaced twice over, because she just couldn’t settle on a color that felt like both of them enough to suit their little someone), and the window was closed.  She shook her head, laughing slightly.  “All right, who closed the window?  Xuppu, was it you?  You know we need to air the room out.”

With the window open, she turned towards the rocking chair in the corner.  She sighed and sat, her hands going back to her belly.  Her feet were killing her today – she couldn’t wait for the baby to get here already.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Luka whispered by her ear, and she smiled as she felt him brush a kiss along her temple.

“About time,” she murmured.  “I thought you…”

…but he was gone when she opened her eyes.

Her brow furrowed as she sat up, looking around.

“Lu…Luka?” she called, but he was nowhere to be seen.  She was nowhere to be seen – the nursery had faded into swirling gray around her, the only clue it might have been there the rocking chair she sat in.  “Luka!  What…where are you?  Luka!”

There was a door, just across the room.  A faint outline that almost faded into the walls.  She pushed herself up and rushed towards it, her hand gripping the handle and turning.  It flung wide open, and she stumbled into their bedroom.

He was sitting on the bed, his guitar on his lap as he played an old, familiar tune.  He looked up at her with a smile, and relief washed over her.

“Don’t scare me like that,” she said, shaking her head as she crossed over to the bed.  She climbed in beside him and curled up against his side.  He hummed, and then his lips brushed against her head as he sang something low and sweet to her.  “You keep going away.  You need to stop that.”

“…I’m not the one who left, beautiful,” he whispered.  She blinked, and when she looked up he was gone.  She flinched back, her brow furrowing as she looked around the room.

“Luka?” she called.  “Luka!  Enough – it’s not funny anymore!”

She heard a noise in the hall, and she scrambled out of bed to follow it.

Their flat felt…stale.  Like she hadn’t cleaned it in far too long.  She looked around, her stomach churning unpleasantly.  She rubbed a hand over her belly, frowning.

“I know, sweetheart,” she said.  “I don’t like it, either.”

She took a hesitant step into the living room, looking around for some sign of…anything.  Their flat was never this quiet – even when Luka and her were both out, the kwamis were always zipping around.  Where had everyone gone?  Where…?

“Tikki?” she called, taking another step into the room.  “Tikki, come on!  This isn’t funny anymore!”

…soft music came from behind her, and she sighed as she turned and saw a soft light coming from the bedroom.  She followed it, crawling back into the bed with Luka as he continued to play.

“It’s been such a weird day,” she sighed, resting her head against his hip.

“Sleep,” he said, bending to kiss her head.  “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

No, she thought, he wouldn’t be.  Because he was on the road, wasn’t he?  He was always on the road anymore…

“All right…” she sighed, laying back and closing her eyes.  She just needed a nap.  Just a little nap.  She’d go see her parents when she woke up, and they’d remind her everything was just fine, and then Luka would come home and…

The bed was empty when she woke up.  Her stomach was flat – but why wouldn’t it be?  It was still early.  She wasn’t showing yet.  Still, she had a nursery to paint.  Luka would be home any time now, and she was so excited to tell him her news…

“Come on, Tikki,” she sighed to the empty space beside her.  She pushed herself up, smiling as her hand moved to her stomach.  “We have work to do.”

[junesfool]

bingpup au bingpup au bingpup au bingpup-

lowkey/highkey likes the uncolored version more

[sincerely-sofie]

I thimk I have couvid…

[danny-chase]

I feel like people understand that Dick changed while Jason was gone, but where it goes wrong half the time is people assume that Dick "growing up" meant that Dick was irresponsible around the time he and Jason interacted/was mean and unable to conceal his jealousy well, which he then evolved from due to Jason's death and was able to build a loving big brother relationship with Tim and Damian and fix his relationship with Bruce.

Meanwhile canon is like:

>Be me, Dick Grayson, esteemed and respected leader of the Teen Titans

> Your younger brother dies

> Fire the youngest member of the Titans because it happened because you had a crisis of responsibility about child vigilantism

> Get punched by your not-official dad

> Help mentor new younger brother because you can't stop him and Bruce from the path they're on, and like hell is another kid going to die

> Kid dies. Not that one. The ex-member of the Titans died disobeying your orders and saving the world in a heroic sacrifice you didn't want him to make, this is exactly what you tried to avoid

> So did two of your friends and one of their moms

> Failed marriage, and a whole lot of relationship stuff you don't want to talk about

> Dad didn't ask you to surpass him in the roll he trained you for since you were 8, gives it to a guy who goes of the rails and starts trying to kill ppl

> Dad asks you to take the roll because he literally has 0 other options and wants to take a vacation

> Bond with younger brother II more, will kill everyone in this room and yourself if anything happens to him

> Move to a new awful city that's often compared to hell

> Having nothing to lose makes it kind of nice here

> Younger brother II gets killed by the same guy who killed younger brother I

> Kill the guy

> Younger brother II wasn't actually dead

> Dad used CPR, so neither is the guy who killed them

> Angst over not being a good enough person not to kill your brother's murderer

> Things start to become okay again

> Best friend dies

> Get shot in the shoulder and fired from your job

> Childhood home gets burned down, 20+ people die

> Apartment building blows up, 22 of your friends and acquaintances die

> Find out it's because someone was specifically targeting you

> Person dies for talking to you

> Choose to step aside and let the guy targetting you die

> Run home because dad needs help

> Get shot in the leg, while passed out another kid hero dies

> Quit being a hero

> Join the mob

> Things start to get better

> Help dad out with some case about this guy named the Red Hood

> City gets nuked because you live there

> Get radiation burns and pass out while saving people, content that you died doing something good

> Dad saved you

> You're still alive :/

> Propose to your ex-girlfriend (not the one from the last marriage)

> Crisis event happens, take a laser beam meant for your father

> Coma for 3 weeks

> She says no (for good reasons)

> You're still alive :/

~and around here is where Dick finds out Jason's alive~

Anyways Dick was not more well adjusted by the time Jason came back from the dead, his life was a constant series of L's, and he got worse 😎

[yuwuta]

gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story

REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you 

but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact. 

he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared. 

he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date