#unknown au

[blurredlinesbetweenoureyes]

i love me some bloody wings

I don't know what to call this AU - Part 1

[monarch-maelstrom]

Finished all of the redesigns for Ladybug, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge and Carapace, plus the design for Plume De Saphir, for my Unknown AU. Also added some outfits they wear when they’re not on patrol or fighting an akuma :)

[borrowedtimeandspace]

The Secret Flatmate

3. Impulsive

From this list of gt prompts.

AU: Unknown BAU

Note: Two prompts in one day??? Yep! ^^ this prompt and a few others have given me a bit of an excuse to actually post some things that have been floating around in my WIPs for a good while now. Enjoy some bonus pocketlock!

~~~

John Watson was a creature of habit. That was to the advantage of one Sherlock Holmes, who carefully watched the man from the safety of the walls.

221B Baker Street was an odd place for someone less than four inches tall to hang their hat– or long wool coat in Sherlock’s case– but Sherlock loved it. He’d been a drifter for quite some time, always shifting around London. One thing Sherlock had never been able to do was sit still.

Until he stumbled upon this humble flat in Central London. At first glance it didn’t seem like much; the most interesting thing about Mrs. Hudson the landlady who lived on the ground floor was that she was apparently married to a drug lord, and he wasn’t even in England anymore. Bored, he decided to explore the flat one floor up. From the second he saw it– with its kitschy wallpaper, rubbish carpet and mismatched armchairs– he was enamored. How he ached to be able to live in 221B Baker Street properly, like a human.

And then he remembered he was human. At least he used to be. He’d given up on wishing for his old life back ages ago. Things would never go back to the way they were.

He ended up settling for the next best thing. After a few weeks of absconding with food and supplies from Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock considered himself fully moved into 221B. It was empty, but someone would rent it out eventually, and then he could live off them.

Sure enough, John Watson moved in, and he was at least a little more interesting than the landlady. 

Sherlock had a hobby in childhood that became an instinct as an adult. Extraordinarily observant, he could pick apart even the most minute of details in a person-- their clothing, their posture, even their accessories-- and from them glean an understanding about their life. This was all the easier when observing human beings, whose relatively massive statures rendered all those details plain as day to Sherlock.

While peeking in on his first conversation with her, Sherlock observed that the man was ex-military, wounded abroad if his limp and tan were any indication. Just returned from either Afghanistan or Iraq (confirmed later to be the former) and clearly hadn’t found a job yet. There was no way he could afford rent in Central London on Army pension alone, so it stood to reason that he must be getting help. Perhaps a loan, or a bit of aid from a family member. Taking a wild guess on a hunch after a closer look at the human’s mobile phone, Sherlock thought John’s brother might have lent him a little. Judging by the other things Sherlock deduced about the brother’s failed marriage and drinking habit, it wasn’t the easiest thing for John to reach out to him.

John took the flat– Sherlock’s flat– right away, and the smaller man kept a watchful eye on the new human. It took John a while to find a steady job, solidifying a schedule for Sherlock to take advantage of. He fell into his own habits, patterns of going through his flatmate’s things to learn more about him. It didn’t take him more than a week to learn about John’s career as a doctor, his shoulder wound that got him discharged, and the psychosomatic limp and tremor that came out of that.

This was a man lost in his own world, his own thoughts and nightmares, especially in the comfort of his own home. A perfect human for someone trying to avoid detection.

Or so Sherlock thought.

A few months after the doctor moved in, Sherlock was raiding the cupboards for enough to last him the week. John had long since gone to work, so the flat was quiet and peaceful.

Sherlock took full advantage of Dr. Watson’s recent grocery run, snitching a little from each freshly opened box and package. It was almost boring, how easy pickings were that day. He decided to climb down to the counter, make the rounds of the kitchen before heading back to his hidden home.

No sooner had he emerged from the cupboard sliding smoothly down his hook and line, than the smell hit him. Dark curls whipped around as Sherlock followed the scent to the table in the middle of the room where a plate of homemade scones sat. Sherlock’s stomach clenched with longing; it was around lunchtime and, while the bits of cracker and cereal and dried fruit in his bag made for a successful haul, it had been ages since he’d had the chance at a proper scone.

He longed for the days when he could hold one in hand and carry it along his merry way as he ate.

As it was, no one was home and the plate was hardly touched. Sherlock reasoned that it’d be a shame to let them go to waste, landing efficiently on the counter and giving his line a pointed flick to disengage the paper clip he’d twisted into a hook. The second he caught it, he was on the move to dig it into the edge of the counter. From there, it was a short jog along the floor, a sharp toss of his hook, and a quick shimmy up the dark thread.

The smell was even stronger on the table surface. Sherlock usually exhibited a lot of self control when it came to what he ate, whether it be out of necessity due to a shortage of pickings or a voluntary fast to aid his brainwork. But for some reason, this scone was different. Maybe it was the sheer nostalgia of the treat or the rare opportunity for something fresh, but there was absolutely no hesitation in his step as he made a beeline for the plate. 

He had to give Mrs. Hudson credit: her scones were heavenly. The pastry crumbled easily enough and melted in his mouth, interspersed with the sweetness of the fruit that had been baked into the dough. For once, his ever-running mind stood still for a moment, drawing him back to childhood.

Shoving his older brother aside to snag two handfuls of scones before school in the morning.

Opening his eyes to regard the crumbs in his hands, Sherlock forced himself to push those memories away. That family was lost to him forever, and he would never get that life back.

Not while he was under four inches tall.

[bigg1999]

clexa angst

SO I had a dream? I dunno what this is, but so much angst and hurt. 

“The bill is $45, wait sorry, $35. I can pay for myself,” Lexa says, taking a ten-dollar bill from the pocket of her apron and putting it into the register. 

“Lexa, come on, I-”

“The bill Clarke,” Lexa cuts her off.

Clarke sighs, setting her large purse on the small table, digging through it and finding the small wallet inside. She hands Lexa $100 dollar bill.

“I’m sorry, I can’t take this,” Lexa says, pointing to the lamented sign on the countertop, saying they don’t accept $100 bills.

“Come on-”

“Rules are rules, they don’t just change,” Lexa says, clenching her jaw. 

Clarke sighs, opening the wallet again, and digging out a $50 bill. 

“Change is-”

“Keep it. Say it’s the tip,” Clarke offers.

“I don’t need your money,” Lexa rolls her eyes, grabbing Clarke’s hand and forcing the money into it. 

“Lexa I-” Clarke blinks down at the harsh contact, the way Lexa’s holding her wrist has unspoken anger. 

“I’m not some baby that needs to be taken care of,” Lexa growls, letting Clarke’s wrist go. 

“I, I didn’t mean to,” Clarke studders, shaking her head, throwing the money in her purse without care, “Lexa I-”

"You, you're different now,” Lexa shakes her head, crossing her arms. 

"What do you mean?"

"All that all yesterday. I mean, you just. You represent something more now, I mean, come on. You called the police."

"I'm not, that's not-"

"It's okay. I get it. You grew up rich, I didn't. We came from different worlds. I guess you were testing how much you could put me through and if I'd stick around. Now you see you could do it all, and I'll stick around. You can use me however you want to, and I'll still be here."

"Lexa,"

"No." Lexa shakes her head, giving Clarke the change back, "I'm, I'm done. Tomorrow I'll be out of your hair. I'll grab my stuff and go to Goodwill and find something else. I'll find somewhere else."

"Lexa come on, let me-"

"Now, please, get out of my restaurant."

"Lex-"

"And if you don't, I'll have to call the police. And we both know you can't deal with that."

Green eyes are full of tears, and Clarke wants to say something, needs to say something, but can't find the words. 

"I mean it, Clarke. Get out," Lexa says, blinking away her tears, face set of stone. 

Clexa signs, biting her bottom lip and nodding, turning on her heal and leaving the love of her life behind.

[arik-fonarik]

[bunrux]

Yummy designs Unknown Trio - @anger-sama Concept Design - @wyllaztopia

[anger-sama]

UNKNOWN HORROR Part 1 Made By Anger-Is-Flawed

So, Nightmare picked up horror for the first time and promised him all the food he could eat. Once Nightmare and Horror arrived at his castle, He met the other two that were going to be working with him. Dust and Killer were the same just like him but something was off about them. Nightmare introduced Horror to them and then guided him around the castle where Horror would be spending most of his time in. Horrors room was nothing special, just a simple bed and a couple wardrobes. Horror was only in it because he was promised food. He was planning to give it all towards his au, considering everyone was starving in there. It was all too much to think about so Horror just decided to sleep it off. After that, Horror started going on missions one after another non stop. At the end of each mission, Nightmare would bring up the topic of food and Horror would instantly deny and ask him to send it to his AU. Nightmare agrees and disappears to send it over. Killer and Dust would constantly make fun of horror for the large hole in his head. They also would come at him for his clothes, his one eye, and being weaker than them. Horror didn’t really care that much. All he cared about was sending the food he got from his missions to his starving AU. This kept going on for over 50 years. Constant abuse from those two and trusting Nightmare to keep his side of the deal. He even found a way to talk to Insanity. They looked down on both of them so they bonded on something. Throughout all those years Insanity actually started to trust Horror. At least he has one friend here. Horror thought everything was going well… Until one day he walked by the living room and heard Killer and Dust talking about his AU. He was listening in on what they were saying. “Can’t believe he is THAT dumb! Does he really think Boss cares about a little AU! Boss probably already destroyed it by now.” Killer said. “Probably, but you better keep your voice down before he hears you.” Dust said. “What’s the problem if he hears? He can’t really do anything. Boss would destroy him in seconds! We can deal with him too if it gets that intense.” Killer said. Horror couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His AU gone? He quickly and quietly made his way back to his room and shut his door as quietly as he could. Horrors mind started to race and then he finally broke. He decided to take out Nightmare for deceiving him for all these years. Nightmare is hard to kill, especially since he can detect emotions. If Horror decided to sneak up on Nightmare, He would die in seconds. All of them underestimated how smart he was because of the giant hole in his head. Maybe he can use that to his advantage. He decided to contact Dream and ask for help. Dream can also sense emotions but Horrors true intentions were overshadowed by his genuine need for help. Dream accepted and they both agreed to meet in a deserted snowdin.

Part 2

[wyllaztopia]

unknown horror belongs to @anger-sama

also a fan design of killer for unknown horror's au

[bet-on-me-13]

Unknown, the Wandering Hero

So! We all know the typical Vivisection AU, right? Danny is revealed to his parents and they take it in all the wrong ways. They capture him, Vivisect him, and eventually he manages to escape with the help of his friends.

But what about his Rouges?

Sure, we all like to think of some of the more friendly ones like Ember, or Sydney, or Johnny 13 and Kitty, but he has WAY more Evil Rouges than good ones.

Without Danny there to reign them in, the Rouges spread out across the world to fulfill their obsessions, unhampered by the Heroes and Villains of the world that have no means to fight them.

And Danny? He feels responsible. He was the one to open the Gate, he was the Sacrifice, the one to let them through. And when the going got tough he just up and left? No, that won't do.

His Obsession is Protection for a reason, and nothing has changed. All he needs to do is expand his area of focus a little.

Danny, after healing up, starts wandering the world in search of the Ghosts who have escaped into the Mortal Realm. He battles all of his old foes, as well as many new ones who he hadn't met before.

His travels take him far and wide.

He defeats Skulker in Metropolis, as he is trying to hunt down the Super Family for their pelts. They are the last of their race after all, so he is inclined to try and hunt them. Honestly dealing with Skulker was easy, dealing with the Rich Asshole who was funding him was a nightmare.

He chases down Spectra in Gotham as she tries to feed on the misery of an entire City. (Thanks to @impyssadobsessions for the idea, this Prompt specifically). She is actually a very tough fight, especially powered by both the Misery of an Entire City as well as his Own Misery, but he manages.

He defeats Technus is Central City, as he tries to Raid Star Labs for their advanced Tech. It actually took a while to beat him after he amped himself with all that Power, and he did need help from the Local Hero to deal with him. He's just thankful Technus is one of the more "Harmless" ones.

After every Victory, he sends them back to the Realms using the Banishing Spell that Sam taught him a while back (the only bit of magic he ever really managed to master).

He knows they'll eventually find their way back out, but it's all he can do anymore. It's his eternal Punishment for unleashing them out into the World in the first place. He was the Catalyst for this Situation, now he was tasked with Fixing it, no matter how long it took.

...

The Justice League is caught in a tricky situation a the moment.

In the past few months, they have been encountering more and more of these Extra Dimensional Beings known as Realms Ghosts across the World.

Justice League Dark has had some success in battling them, but even they are getting tired of having to deal with every single incident alone.

They did get approached by a Government Agency known as the Ghostly Investigation Ward that seemed to want to help, but it didn't take long to realize that their main Aim was to Genocide the entire Race. The JLA had quickly cut ties after realizing that, and took what little Tech and Information they had been able to gather.

Still, it wasn't easy to deal with these Entities.

Thankfully, they have had some outside help. An Unknown Being has been routinely showing up whenever a Realms Ghost appears and defeating them, before using a (as described by Constantine) "Rudimentary Banishing Spell held together by willpower and luck" to send them back to their home Dimension. There's honestly no way it should be functional, but he did make it work either way.

They don't know much about this Unknown, aside from the fact that he seems to be the only one able to consistently damage the Realms Ghosts. His Powerset leads them to belive he may be from the same Dimension, or at least drawing his power from the same Source, but as he actively avoids the League and takes every opportunity to not talk to them, they know they aren't getting any answers any time soon.

Over the past few months, they had affectionately started referring to him as Unknown, creative they know, because they could never get his Real Name. Sure, some of the Realms Ghosts seemed to recognize him, but they always called him stuff like "Whelp" and "Punk" and "Usurper", which were not very good names to use when referring to him. Although the last one was a bit concerning.

They had only managed to trade a few quick words with Unknown in the past few months, but it was enough to get the Gist of it. He was just doing his job, sending the Realms Ghosts back where they belonged. There was apparently a Tear in Reality letting them through, but he seemed hesitant to reveal what he knew about it.

After a few months of sparse interactions, they eventually managed to convince him to at least take an Emergency Communicator. Just in case. They even let him take it apart to look for any Tracking Devices, which earned them a small bit of trust. They took whatever wins they could.

Fortunately, it seemed he never did need it. In fact he was getting more and more efficient with every battle, defeating his foes in half the time it would have taken before.

Unfortunately, it didn't last forever. One day, the Communicator went off, a distorted voice quickly saying, "Need backup, some of them decide to Team Up" before cutting out.

They quickly rushed to his location, finding an active battlefield with no less that a dozen Ghosts battling Unknown. And he seemed to be on the ropes.

With their arrival, the combined force of the Justice League and Unknown eventually managed to defeat the Group of Ghosts. Justice League Dark volunteered to work on the Banishing Spells while the others cleaned up the damage from the Battle.

One of them approached Unknown to make sure he was ok, and froze.

During the battle, Unknown's Mask had been Torn off, and they could finally see the face of the Hero they had been working with for the past few months.

And he was a Child.

[kiilttis-art]

Silly guy ⭐️

[darkmuffinstudios]

Gotcha…

Unknown Horror was made by @anger-sama

[blurredlinesbetweenoureyes]

hold on im blorbing

Unknown AU - Part 2

[monarch-maelstrom]

Unknown AU drawing dump

Plus basically what happened after Chat Noir fell

[borrowedtimeandspace]

The Household Spirit

19. Trickster

From this list of gt prompts.

AU: Unknown BAU; pocketlock | [first] [prev]

Note: determined to finish these off before July. 3 to go!

~~~

John opened and unlocked his laptop. He hesitated only a moment when he saw the empty blog that had been left open the last time he used it, then he clicked to a new tab and went to his browser.

Fingers hovered over the keyboard. With an uncertain huff, he typed ‘tiny person’ into the search bar.

As soon as he hit return, he knew that his keywords were flawed. Immediate results were mostly to do with dwarfism, and that wasn't at all what he was looking for.

He really should have been job hunting. He'd put a few feelers out to some old contacts, people he knew at St. Bart's, and was waiting to hear back. Couldn't hurt to cast a few more lines.

Having an inches-tall man continuously appearing in his flat was an incredible distraction from that task.

He'd shown up in John's sight several more times over the past few days and, John had just begun to notice, did so a little closer to him each time. He didn't do anything but stand there staring John down, since he most often chose to have some sort of high ground. Since their first encounter was so tense, the doctor didn't want to approach him and appear aggressive like before. So the tiny man just watched him for a while, and disappeared when John wasn't looking.

All that simply baffled John, and didn't give him any insight into what exactly he was and what he was doing.

John clucked his tongue as he reached absently for the chips left over from his takeaway lunch. Cheap and convenient, just something to fill him up. He could think about how to narrow his search as he chewed and cleaned the grease from his fingers on a nearby paper napkin.

Once his fingers were clean, he added the word ‘folklore’ to the end of his previous search. He gave it a second thought before inserting ‘English’ in front of it.

This brought up expected results as well. Pixies, fairies, gnomes, leprechauns… It all seemed a little too fantastical based on John's (admittedly limited) experiences. The tiny man didn't have wings, didn't seem able to fly or in possession of magic powers. The closest things John witnessed were those bursts of speed while he was trying to get away. Surely if he had more tricks up his sleeve than that, John would have seen them.

One term among them stood out as something he couldn't immediately associate with some fairy tale or cartoon. ‘Brownie’. John's brow furrowed, interest piqued as he clicked on the first link featuring the unfamiliar creature. 

Brownies certainly seemed a more low-key sort compared to fairies and whatnot. Little people living in walls, trying not to be seen and quietly carrying out small household tasks in exchange for food. John thought back to the scones Mrs. Hudson had left out…

One point against brownies as an option was that every depiction and description of them was significantly more impish or animalistic than what John saw. Seemed very much like any human he might see around, just one who happened to be inches high.

Then again, as John read on, brownies were not to be trifled with, if the folklore was to be believed. Though they mostly operated in the shadows, they were known to be mischievous as well. Playing tricks on people when they least expected it, and if they got pissed off, they became more hostile and took on the form of ‘boggarts’. 

He had to blink away the memory of trapping the guy under a mug. Suddenly he was really hoping that he wasn't on the right track.

John sat back in his chair to try and reset his thoughts to come up with something else he could try. He gave a sigh, once again going for a few chips when something gave him pause. A small yet sudden shift in his peripheral vision.

Glancing over, John was surprised to find the tiny man on the far edge of the kitchen table. He stood there as straight and tall as he could make himself, arms crossed and eyes sharply fixed on John.

John in turn froze; this had happened a good handful of times now, but he'd never appeared this close.

An even bigger shock was that the man began marching toward John. All he could do was stare as his eyebrows jumped up, clueless about what brought this on. Did something change to make him behave this way?

The determined march slowed as the little man came within inches of John's hand, still stuck outstretched and hovering near the chips. He broke eye contact with the human to glare at the hand, just about twice as large as he was tall, and then cut those sharp blue eyes right back to John.

John broke out of his trance to awkwardly move his hand back, feeling like he was intruding all of a sudden. Unsure of what else to do with it, he let it come to rest near his keyboard.

He could swear he saw those tiny eyes narrow as the man all but stomped forward to close the distance with the chips and snatch a small one up. When all John did was blink dumbfoundedly, he huffed and turned on his heel to go back the way he came.

From that spot right next to the chips, the screen of John's laptop was in full view of the man as he turned. He spared it a glance and scoffed.

“Dull…” John thought he heard the man mutter.

Before John could even think about how to take that, let alone respond to it, the tiny figure turned into an impossibly fast blur and vanished over the edge of the table.

John sat there for a long time, mouth agape as his chips went stone cold beside him. When it all caught up to him, he glanced at his idle computer and closed it.

Judging by the man's response, John could only assume that he was not a brownie.

[mecachrome]

Oscar on Today Show Australia

[arik-fonarik]

Redrawing for something