#Guardian Angle Au

[stabbyfoxandrew]

I can be ur devil or i can be ur angle

(Guardian Angel plsssssssss) - @jtl-fics

WIP Wednesday (9/27) | Guardian Angel Neil AU

After he stirs the flavor packet in, Andrew shoves Kevin’s long legs into the floor so he can sit down to eat. 

“Hi, Andrew,” Kevin says, barely glancing at him. Andrew grunts in reply and looks over at the TV screen, where Nicky is absolutely obliterating Aaron. He should be laughing at Aaron’s pisspoor gaming and trying to get a reaction out of him by now. But his entire belief system was just ripped out from under him, so Andrew just sits quietly and stirs at his food.

These last couple months he thought he was essentially talking to himself. But Neil is real. Andrew’s got proof and everything! A feather from an angel’s wing, right under his pillow! That’s kind of creepy of him, isn’t it? Definitely. 

Well. Oopsie. It’s Andrew’s very first time encountering the supernatural, Neil will have to excuse him. Speaking of Neil… Andrew’s got to get back up there. He’s got to… Well, he’s not sure what to do now. He’s got a couple ideas. But kissing an angel silly might just be against the rules.

Then again, it might not be. So Andrew scarfs down his noodles without tasting them at all, then rushes back up to the roof. Predictably, Neil isn’t there. 

“Neil?” Andrew says. Then again. But the angel doesn’t make an appearance. His words from earlier ring in Andrew’s mind, ‘You have other things to do. I want you to take care of yourself. See you tomorrow.’

Andrew chews on his lip then goes back inside without lighting a cigarette. He finishes the assignments he’d let pile up in the last couple weeks then takes a shower and goes to bed at a decent time. And for the first time in what feels like years, he falls asleep quickly.

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[duckapus]

So this is Diane "Floyd" Floyener, the ghost girl I mentioned in my post about SMG6 Kirby's friends, and that script post introducing Digi-Blade to Lil Coding.

She's twelve, dead, and has depression and a bit of anxiety. Also for some reason her main Ghost Thing is that she eats colors by draining them out of whatever object she touches, though she can control it most of the time. She can technically eat food normally, it just doesn't actually benefit her because she's dead. Her favorite flavor is yellow.

Picrew I used was this:

[elmushterri]

I don’t have time to draw my ideas out but!

Been contemplating TKH stuff and GunnTech stuff, and I was wondering.

I’ve set up TKH as a spiritual/supernatural/guardian angel thing (that bit needs no introduction to be honest) where knights have their own realm, and magic and such.

Buuut, I’m exploring some other angles too and I wanna know your thoughts.

I was exploring the idea of knights being man-made, a huge science project kinda like GunnTech (btw, I’m only basing this off GunnTech cause the science-experiment-kids angle is more of my au than PJ masks? I’d be stealing from myself + PJ masks is not my property so I could never produce/do anything with GunnTech anyway😭). So here, it would probably be something like “The Knight Project” and such. More sci fi/across the spiderverse than She Ra. The rest of it is mainly the same, same weapon power thing, same handbook stuff, just different vibe and origins. Rather than only fighting normal criminals and night time villains like in PJ Masks/GunnTech AU, the main character knights are teens who get to fight giant monsters and whatnot.

What do you moons think? I’ll probably end up showing some concept art anyways.

‼️ This is sorta for people who like the GunnTech sciency / hero/trained kids growing up in a lab aspect, cause once again it’s still just an AU of a property that isn’t mine and I can legally do nothing with. I love the GunnTech story but I can do nothing with it in the future because it belongs to Disney. If you wanna see an ‘original’ GunnTech vibes story with a slight fantasy twinge to it, then this would be for you.

Here’s some ‘mood boards’— note that there would still be cool glowy stuff and true knight forms and all.

The project would probably keep its title, but if not, in this sci fi case it would probably be more like ‘Project Knight’ but till I’ve figured that out it stays.

[sungbeam]

BIRD HUNT — three

nonidol!choi line x f!reader

gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.

▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman

▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of death and murder, mentions of weaponry, depictions of violence, use of pepper spray, breaking and entering

▷ word count. 4.4k // taglist: open

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FILE_03 : by the tail

gotham city.

[seven days since your mother was murdered.]

"Is she here?"

The voice was familiar to your sensitive ears, and although your eyes remained fixed on Mrs. Lee, you shifted your attention mentally to the two—no, three—wait… four?—figures making their way over to where you and Mrs. Lee stood in the home office space. Their footsteps were as quiet as heeled loafers could be against hollow wood floors. The Lees' home in the suburbs was a safe distance from the heart of Gotham, so the neighborhood was much nicer and much more like a home. The Lees had been ushered here after Lee Sungjae had been found murdered, and they'd resided here since.

You had been called in the day after the incident happened—that was the day after you had gone to see your father. We must work fast, Yn. They've already gotten to one of my… men. That was what he'd told you, and when he elaborated, you had discovered that every news channel now blasted footage of Lee Sungjae's dead, glassy eyes.

You had been busy since, trying to both grieve in peace and work at the same time.

"—take more time, Yn-ah. Losing a loved—" Mrs. Lee's voice cracked slightly and she covered her mouth.

"Mrs. Lee—"

She waved your hand away, angling her body away slightly so she could regain composure. "No, no. It's alright. I'm alright. I just… I know how it feels, and I think you deserve time to yourself, as well."

Of course you told her about your mother. You had to take another day off when one of your coworkers had noticed how spaced out you were when you came in. No, you didn't tell her your mother was murdered the same way her husband had. That was between you, your father, and the motherfucker who did this.

But for now, you were supposed to be here to answer the police's questions about your employer. You had been one of three of Mr. Lee's secretaries for the past several months now, having come under his employ about a year ago after Choi Enterprises turned you away. But magically, a few days afterward, this offer from the office of one Lee Sungjae had arrived in your inbox. When one door closed, as they said, another opened. Whatever guardian angel was looking over you then certainly wasn't looking over you now though.

"Miss Ln?"

You turned around and expected to see Commissioner Kim Namjoon and your co-secretary, Shin Ryujin, but you hadn't expected the two others with them. They stood behind the two aforementioned, both in black domino masks that covered the top halves of their faces. Their suits were skintight, most likely to allow for more mobility, but they also accentuated their starkly muscular figures. The taller one wore a suit of dark blue and black, while the other donned a maroon red and black ensemble. You recognized them, respectively, as Gotham's very own Nightwing and the Red Robin. Vigilantes. What were they doing with Commissioner Kim?

Ryujin bowed her way out, gently taking Mrs. Lee with her. That left you with the others.

"Hello, Miss Ln," Commissioner Kim greeted with a tired, but not unkind, smile. He fished a small notepad out of his coat pocket, ballpoint pen clicking to life. "My name is Commissioner Kim. These two… not sure if you need any introductions."

When you remained silent with only a nod, he continued, "We're here investigating the murder of your former employer, and we were informed that you often handled his familial affairs. We've already spoken with Miss Shin and Mr. Yun, but we wanted to ask where you were last Wednesday night at ten o'clock."

You were very aware that Nightwing had decided to wander about the office, eyes taking in the shelves and the notes and the desk… then there was Red Robin, who's attention was pinned intently on you, arms crossed firmly over his chest. There was something awfully familiar about these two. "Is that an accusation, Commissioner?" You asked, leaning against the edge of the desk.

"It doesn't have to be," he said airily. "Just answer the question, Miss."

"I was at home," you answered, schooling your face into neutrality. "You can ask my employer's wife and my coworkers—I was taking time off to grieve my mother's death."

The shock was not the most stark on the commissioner's face, but on Red Robin's. "She's dead?—" He coughed; even Nightwing had paused his movements. "I mean, I'm sorry for your loss." You didn't recognize the voice, but you suspected it was probably being disguised with a voice modulator.

The commissioner sent him a bewildered look, but turned back to you. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Yn. Truly." He asked with almost a grimace, "Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts? I understand you were most likely home alone, but perhaps a neighbor, a significant other…?"

And there it was again—that shift in energy as both the vigilantes in the room stopped to focus on you.

You shook your head with a tight smile. It probably wouldn't bode well if you revealed to them who your father was or that you paid the Iceberg Lounge a visit that day. You were also a little too preoccupied with survival to have a significant other, and you hadn’t been close enough to a neighbor in years. "No. Just my cats."

There was something so familiar about this Red Robin character, but you couldn't put a finger on it. Or maybe it was the way he was staring at you with such pity (and sympathy) that made you wish he was someone else. Either way, you needed to know why these two vigilantes were put on the case, and what they might have already found out. At the moment, it didn't seem like it would pose a problem, but you thought it wouldn't hurt to be a little more careful.

When you arrived home that night, bones aching as much as your head pulsed, you collapsed on the couch. A few of your cats began to swarm your legs, soft fur tickling the skin exposed when your pant leg lifted. Blue, a very introverted Russian Blue who you managed to make an extrovert when it came to you, plopped himself onto your lap like a warm, vibrating mass. You ran your fingers through his fur to the symphony of someone's purrs (you figured it was Byeol; he was quite vocal).

"Should I invite him to the funeral?" You murmured to Blue in question.

He stared back at you, then silently turned his gaze to a particle of dust floating in the air.

You exhaled back against the couch cushions. "I'll take that as a yes."

In the dead of night—because there was always a dead of night, even for Gotham City—you pulled a dark beanie over your head and the top half of your face. Two holes had been cut and sewn for your eyes to see through, and at the top of the hat, two little triangles sat akin to ears. You recalled the night you had crocheted this on a whim, your mother having done most of the work.

"Blue wants it to have cat ears, mama," you'd told her just as she brought out her tub of yarns.

Your mother's eyes glittered. "Is that right? Well, we'll have to add cat ears then, won't we?"

You thought it would be fitting to find her killer in this. You thought it fit you quite well, at least.

The rest of you was dressed in black, and your hand grazed over Soul's fluffy, white head as you propped open the second floor window. "I'll be home soon," you whispered to the last of your family, then disappeared into the night.

"I can't get why this is so familiar to me," Beomgyu voiced into the echoes of the Batcave, hands braced against the main monitor as he stared at the copy of the note: A Debt Repaid. He had been staring at it for the past week, not consecutively, but it hadn't left the forefront of his mind. Like you.

Soobin trudged over to his brother with a bowl of cereal cradled in his large palm, the other hand spooning the sweet milk and wheat flakes into his mouth. "Mm. Maybe give it a rest for a little, Beom."

"And do what?"

"How do you know Ln Yn?"

Beomgyu whirled around just as Soobin settled into the desk chair, waiting. Beomgyu made a scoffing noise, eyebrows flying up to his shaggy bangs. "Where did that come from?"

Soobin smiled and shrugged. "You tell me." He slurped up a bit more milk before adding, "You're the one who reacted like that in front of everyone when she said she was grieving her mother's death. You sounded shocked that she died."

"Well yeah, wouldn't you be shocked to hear someone else died so close to another's death?"

"Stop trying to bullshit him, Gyu."

Both the brothers looked up at the voice who had just entered the underground space. Yeonjun strolled into the main area in a white tank top and sweats, hair sticking up in different places. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned loud and wide.

Soobin cocked a brow at him. "Nice of you to finally join us, hyung. How'd the date go?"

"Great," Yeonjun quipped. "We're going on a second one soon. I think Felix almost sent me off with a kiss goodnight." He slumped onto the edge of the desk, eyes lazily taking in the images and information displayed on the many monitor screens. "This is our stiff, huh?"

Soobin sent him a look that distinctly said 'No, we're just looking at dead bodies for fun.'

"Yeah," Beomgyu replied. "The note the killer left is so familiar to me though. Have you seen it before?" He knocked his knuckles against the monitor with the note.

Yeonjun's eyes narrowed on the screen, before he leaned back with that bored look renewed on his face. "You're both idiots. It's from that one killing a couple weeks ago."

Beomgyu and Soobin traded looks. "What?"

Their eldest brother leaned down to reach the lowest drawer at the desk. From its depths, he fished out a large bag of chips and grabbed a handful to stuff his face with. "Y'know," he garbled and gestured vaguely with his crumb-dusted fingers. "Beomgyu, you know! You were there with me. It was that one lawyer guy who was found dead in his car beneath the bridge. That same note was taped to his windshield."

"Oh yeah," Beomgyu drawled, while Soobin shook his head with a sigh. The former then knocked his foot against the latter's shin. "Aye! You didn't even know it."

"Yeah, because I wasn't on that case," Soobin fired back. He finished off the rest of his bowl of cereal and set the empty ceramic in his lap before crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes, like his brothers' were lined beneath with heavy eye bags. Someone was supposed to be on patrol around the city right now, but neither of the three brothers were in any rush to get up. "So it's just one person going after these people then."

Yeonjun chewed his bottom lip. "Then we just gotta find the connection."

"Was the lawyer guy from a couple weeks ago Lee Sungjae's attorney?" Soobin asked.

Beomgyu grabbed a hold of the wireless keyboard on the desk and braced it upon his thighs. He pulled up an internet browser and typed in their inquiry. All three brothers made noises of disgruntlement; if the lawyer hadn't been Sungjae's attorney, then how were they connected? It was no secret that 99.9 percent of the population here in Gotham had some sort of… shadow looming over their shoulder. It was almost impossible to get anywhere without the help of a corrupt figure, whether that be a mob boss like the Penguin or loan shark with special strategies to get someone to pay up.

Either way, there would be lots of digging required.

"Let's start with Lee Sungjae and the lawyer's records,'' Soobin decided as he sat up in the chair. "We'll sort through phone records, acquire security footage of their movements, their texts, etcetera."

"I call none of those," Yeonjun said. When his younger brothers scowled at him, he raised both hands in feigned surrender with a giggle. "Fine, fine. You're both lookin' at me like I murdered your favorite puppy."

They remained silent.

"What, too soon?"

The basement headquarters suddenly erupted in a dull siren sound, and Beomgyu was swift to pull up a set of footage on one of the monitors. It displayed a section of the sky, a white spotlight circle cast against a massive, dark gray cumulus cloud with a distinct bat shape in the center—their call to action.

All three men were on their feet in an instant—keyboard and cereal bowl abandoned on the table, capes and utility belts clicked into place.

"Meet you losers there!" Yeonjun hollered as the cave filled with the revving roar of his motorcycle engine like a clap of thunder.

Soobin and Beomgyu hurried over to their respective cycles. "Hey, we're not done talking about Ln Yn!" Soobin called to his younger brother.

Beomgyu flashed him a thin smile. "That's what you think!" And he sped away down the runway.

Soobin chuckled to himself, grinning. Then he revved his engine and launched himself after his brothers.

To be completely honest, you had no idea what you were doing. Actually, that was a lie. You kind of knew what you were doing, but that was leagues away from completely knowing what you were doing until it was muscle memory. Right now though, as you gripped onto the side of the building, fingertips digging into the concrete ledge like a lifeline (because it might as well had been one), you couldn't wait until it became muscle memory.

God, your arms were going to ache tomorrow morning.

"It's worth it, Yn," you muttered to yourself, under your breath, and that was what made you reach up one more time and grasp onto the ledge of the window sill. You had always wondered why buildings like this lacked security cameras, but based on its practically smooth facade, it was no wonder. Only a crazy person would dare scale something like this.

The law firm building was not one of the largest nor one of the dingiest. If it had been some place like Clark & Field, you would have considered other ways to get into the building, but it would probably be through the inside (because scaling a fifty story skyscraper without a net was not on your bucket list). And if the building had been on the dingier side, it would have, frankly, been much easier to find footholds and places to brace. Except for any mold or crumbly parts. That was not fun either.

Or maybe you could classify scaling buildings as just… not fun in general. But the skills and the strength would come with time.

This time, however, was fueled by pure willpower.

But the universe was on your side for once, and the window you clung to gave way and granted you entry. The stupid lock picks had actually worked.

Despite being dead for two weeks, Yang Eunhyuk’s office still looked like its owner was still alive. There were documents left out in the open, all of the furniture had yet to be touched, there was an old (upon further investigation, really old) cup of coffee on the desk, and a two-week-old calendar for the week’s appointments and cases. You peered at the calendar and skimmed its contents, but found nothing terribly noteworthy. You strolled by the bookcase, footsteps light as a cat’s, and glimpsed the titles. There were a lot of convoluted-sounding titles on the shelves, and honestly, you doubted that he even read half of the books there. They were probably just for show when clients came in.

After you had given yourself a tour of the space, you determined that no one had truly cared enough about this man to really clean up for him. The door out into the hallway was locked, and through its frosted glass door, you could make out the distinct yellow police tape crossed over the frame. This was no crime scene, but the police had still had the room locked down… odd.

You figured they didn’t care enough. But maybe this guy had more connections than you were giving him credit for. He had been one of your father’s clients, after all. (Actually, that wasn’t enough to determine whether or not Yang was smart or not. Resorting to your father’s ever-generous solutions was stupid; and you were very well-aware that that made you stupid, too.)

Your father had sent you to this office for something in particular.

“Yang Eunhyuk was an idiot and a half,” your father had told you the day you had come to him. “But he knows how to hide his things when he needs to.” He had carefully relayed all of the necessary information to you as the two of you sat on the couch together to outline your next steps and what exactly he was asking of you. “He owes me a compilation of files and a burner phone.”

When you’d asked what for, there was that gleam in his eyes as if he found the question amusing. “Well, to find out who betrayed us, of course.”

“To find who killed Mom?”

He had nodded at you—waved his hand flippantly. “Yes. That’s the same thing, Yn.”

A burner phone and a compilation of files. Your father had already searched Yang’s personal place of residence, but there had apparently been nothing but “shit." So here you were… sorting through more shit.

You drummed the pads of your fingers on the surface of the desk.

“Where would he hide you, hm?” You murmured to yourself. You tried all of the drawers under the desk—four of the seven came up locked. The top three drawers were all filled with a smorgasbord of knick knacks and junk like a fidget spinner, fidget cube, a package of cigarettes, and even a used gum wrapper. (Gross.) You slipped a lock pick out from your sleeve as you considered the remaining four locked drawers, then realized that Yang Eunhyuk might not have kept your father’s files in the same place as his regular, ol’ case files.

And so, you moved away from the desk.

You figured there were specific places a lawyer would keep their most sensitive files to ensure discretion and privacy. You recalled how your late employer, Lee Sungjae, often had his most precious files stashed away in a place that was so obvious that no one would ever assume any person in the right mind would hide such things. For Sungjae, it had been a picture frame on the wall of his office, the one with him and his entire family pictured. It was cute; but when one peered behind it…

There was only one picture frame in the entire office space. It was small and it housed his law degree. You wondered if it was phony.

You decided to give it a chance and reached for it with a gloved hand.

When you took the frame off the wall, a frown slipped onto your face at the solid wall behind it. Huh. It was worth a—

You stepped backward and inhaled sharply when your leg hit the back of his cheap office chair. You managed to right yourself, but your ears had also perked up at a curious sound. You swiftly replaced the frame on the wall and knelt down by the desk chair and twisted your body to peer beneath it.

The sound you had heard had been a soft swish. It was subtle and not at all loud, but thanks to the empty office and your own hearing, you had picked up on it. It was practically a miracle.

Your heart pounded in excitement as you stuck your hand beneath the chair and felt up the bottom. There—you felt a distinct, padded folder—and there—

Your fingers wrapped around a small device no bigger than the palm of your hand. It must have been attached to the bottom of the chair with some kind of tape, and you gave it a good yank. And behold… in your hand was the alleged burner phone, staring up at you, just begging for you to sneak a peek into its logs. But before you could, you removed the file that had been hidden beneath the chair as well. It was a standard manila folder stuffed to the brim with papers and, you assumed, lots of sensitive information. Your eyes were widening like your smile as you just struck gold.

Not too bad for your first time in a while.

You startled at the sound of a thump.

There was a figure, a shadow, standing on the window sill by the end of the desk. He was familiar to you with his dark hair and domino mask, and his red and black uniform. His cape flowed from just off the precipices of his shoulders and hung around the backs of his knees—imposing and regal but not in the way of any movements he made. The Red Robin had stood before you just earlier in the day at Lee Sungjae’s suburban home. He had been the one with the familiar presence to you, along with his… colleague? You didn’t know his and Nightwing’s association or relationship, but you weren’t about to interact long enough to find out.

“Breaking and entering is illegal, y’know,” the masked vigilante mused, and you could just make out the shadow of his smirk in the darkness. “Even at crime scenes.”

You rose from your spot on the floor, slipping the burner into the holster pocket on the garter around your thigh and tucking the file in the crook of your arm. There wasn’t really a place you could hide the chunky piece of shit. Despite your heart palpitating in your chest, you maintained a cool exterior. He didn’t know who you were, and you expected that he wouldn’t be able to recognize your voice since you had only spoken to him once.

“Nothing done in Gotham is illegal,” you replied to him.

His head cocked to the side, arms folding over his chest. “You’re not wrong about that. But…” He nodded at the file folder. “I really can’t let you leave with that.”

Oh, dear god. You needed an escape plan—and fast.

Nothing was coming to mind; it was just get out get out get out! (Very helpful, as always.)

“I’m sure you can make an exception for me,” you said with a mocking pout. “How’d you even know I was here? I didn’t realize Yang Eunhyuk had a connection to Gotham’s exclusive Bat Boys.”

A scoff from him. “He doesn’t. Your luck just happened to be running out, sweetheart.” He stepped off the window sill and entered the office, stalking toward you with slow, methodical steps because he knew you were cornered. You really should have tried that office door when you had the chance.

As you began backing away, you shook his head and tsked. “C’mon,” he coaxed. “Give me the folder.”

“And I can go?” You wondered how fast you could disappear once you flung yourself out of that window.

He smiled. “If you give me that burner, too, sure.”

Your heart stopped for a millisecond. God damn it.

He must have seen the doubt in your eyes, and that fucking smile of his widened. Something about that was tug-tug-tugging a nerve. He stopped walking toward you as you slowly made a move to set the file down on the floor. “Good girl.”

The file flopped onto the wooden floor.

"Slowly," he drawled, eyes glued to your form as he watched your hand move toward the holster pouch.

All the while, you were counting down in your head.

Before he could blink, you swung a leg out and kicked the file back behind Red Robin and toward the window. His head swerved in that direction, and you launched yourself at him before he could realize his mistake.

You kicked at him, one-two, adrenaline pumping through your veins like a virus. He blocked your blows, just as you swung around and made a grab for his mask.

He caught your wrist; you whirled—it was a high stakes tango you had not been prepared for. But you jabbed your elbow behind you, fist flying up toward his nose. Every move you made was desperate and offensive.

You slipped free and ducked, body curling under his arm, under his cape, until you ended up in the flurry of the dark fabric.

The vigilante knew his own cape though. You gave him that much.

He grabbed the opposite end and arced it over your head, arm coming down to wrap you in it—but you threw yourself out of it, landing a swift blow to his shin. Wouldn't do much except make him curse and loosen his grip slightly.

The file was in sight—oh god, it was right the fuck there.

You made a mad dash for it, leaning down slightly and reaching out with your hand—

"Not so fast, kitty—"

You hit the floor with a curse, palms flat against the wood. His foot had hooked around yours and tripped you, his knee set against your back like his own palm as he held you against the floor.

You felt his breath by your ear. "What's in the file, sweetheart?"

"None of your concern," you gritted out, then throwing your head back until you heard and felt that telltale "fuck!" from Red Robin.

You ignored the throbbing in the back of your skull to fling yourself around and throw off his balance again. Your hand dove into your holster pocket to retrieve the small cylinder of mace, then sprayed it in a final move of desperation, breath and chest heaving.

The man sputtered, hand flying up to his mouth as he stumbled backward and tried to eject the chemical from his body. "Dirty fucking move," he spat as you turned tail and made for the file.

Only—

"Looking for this?"

Two others had joined the party, to your absolute horror. Nightwing stood with the file in his hand, while Red Hood—the vigilante from the bank, and supposedly Choi Yeonjun based on your deductions—was perched up on the window sill with zero care in the world.

Well shit.

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[teodora156]

[angels/fallen angels AU]

Characters:

– The Lord of Darkness/Tomelior (Tom): The oldest fallen angel, looking like a centuries-old statue in a resembling a monk's robe with a hood. It hides a pair of dark, piercing eyes that sometimes turn scarlet at a certain angle. Behind his back he has a pair of large dark wings covered with ash with numerous scars from centuries of labor. He wears a ring similar in shape to a beautiful black snake with a very smooth and shiny body and ruby eyes. He is immortal, he lived for about 300 years, but since time flows very differently in Pandemonium, and you can live a whole life here in one hour, this figure is not accurate. The discoverer of evil, proud, decided to challenge the Creator, to take his place. Having sown seeds of doubt and persuaded some of the angels to join him in the struggle for the throne, he began slowly but surely to gather supporters. After hearing about God's desire to create the Earth and populate it with various creatures, including humans, he intended to rule them, making them vassals of his kingdom and distribute crumbs of power to those angels who joined him, who would help him achieve his goal. However, the planned and planned uprising failed: at the moment of the battle with the angelic army remaining loyal to the heavenly throne, a group of rebellious rebels, including Tomelior, were thrown into the otherworld by the forces of the Creator. Falling from Heaven into Pandemonium, and falling from the mercy of the Creator, he had to survive in a new, unexplored environment. Staying in numerous wanderings and searches, he saw a lot: the mysterious lands of this world, the creatures that lived in it, his companions of fallen angels who changed, succumbing to their inner nature. Later, Tom stumbled upon the Land of Eternal Shadows. After exploring it, he settled here, declaring himself its master, the Lord of Darkness. Since then, he has ruled it alone, this vast kingdom. He lives in a cave, spending most of his time alone with his thoughts.

– Harreth (Harry): A bright angelic creature, with immaculately snow-white wings and a more petite body, over which a snow-white Roman toga is draped. On his left ankle he wears a bracelet with beads created by their crystal hailstones. A sweet, pretty face with emerald eyes. Just like the rest of the angels, born and incarnated by the creator initially into a spirit, and then acquired a material shell, kind, innocent, but also stubborn and defiant Harreth spent his entire short, barely begun life in Heaven and knew nothing else. Due to his inexperience, he does not have such inveterate prejudices about the evil and vicious nature of fallen angels. He is still too young for some complicated assignments and is learning the business from the senior angels. All angels must undergo proper training and learn centuries-old knowledge from their teachers before being assigned to be a guardian angel, messenger angel, or warrior angel. Sometimes the instructive instructions of the seraphim and cherubim, as well as a strict system of hierarchies and rules, annoy the restless student and he runs away and explores new territories. So once he accidentally fell into an otherworldly, completely unknown world for him, almost crashing if not for his wings that saved him. By a strange fate, he ended up in the kingdom of the Lord of Darkness, in the Land of Eternal Shadows, and this gives rise to their forbidden relationship.

– Creator (Dumbledore): An eternal phenomenon, present everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The original Self and the cause of all things. No one has ever seen his presence, so no one can tell what he looks like, but everyone has heard his soothing, enveloping voice. He can be completely different: wise and understanding, supportive and loving of his creations, but also cunning and manipulative, and in some moments ruthless. The guardian of the past, present and future knows the beginning and the end of time, but to share this knowledge only with his trusted advisers. There is a duality in him in the desire to leave his creations to determine their own fate, and at the same time in the intention to conceal something for their own personal interests.

[pt.1], [pt.2], [pt.4], [pt.5], [pt.7].

[rarepairronpa]

reading the wiki, going "oh mikan didn’t have any friends growing up?" and putting her in an AU where she was childhood friends with ryoko and matsuda

As you should!!! That would be super interesting, tbh. Childhood friends enomatsumiki/ryoumatsumiki would be such an interesting dynamic - especially the Yasuke and Mikan angle! We all know Mikan would grow to adore Ryouko, considering... But her relationship with Yasuke would be the really interesting part. Also, I could totally see the two of them defending her from bullies. Maybe Yasuke's mom sort of "takes in" Mikan in the sense that she let's her stay with her to get away from her guardians. And maybe when she gets dementia, that's one of the first things to go - leading to a very traumatic memory of Yasukes mom forcing Mikan out of her house with little to no warning. That whole thing would probably fuel both Mikan and Yasuke's medical career - not just Yasukes. Can you tell I have a lot of Yasuke's mom feelings? I imagine little Ryouko/Junko and little Mikan both call her "auntie". When Ryouko loses her memories, I think, would be the first clash between Yasuke and Mikan, since Mikan would not buy that it was natural and would demand Yasuke stop erasing her memories. "What are you expecting to happen here? That you can keep erasing her memories until the end of time? It won't work! She'll figure it out!" (Which would maybe lead into Yasuke talking about the NWP, which I think would genuinely scare Mikan.) If he explained that he was hiding her to shield her from consequences, Mikan would accept that as long as it was temporary. The fact that it wouldn't be temporary is where he'd lose her. She'd accuse him of trying to change her, not really loving her as she is, etc etc. Just full on hysterical yelling. I could see, like, her going along with it at first to protect Junko, only to get suspicious that it's going on for so long and confront Yasuke, leading to a truly explosive argument. Because Yasuke knew she wouldn't approve and left out shit just to get her to go along with everything. Oh! I also like to think that Ryouko would remember Mikan as well, and keep asking about her. To which Yasuke deflects everytime, feeling worse by the minute.

Mikan can't really... do anything to oppose this whole thing on her own though. That's why she'd probably go to Mukuro, and they'd have an alliance through most of DR0. Would Mikan actually appear to Ryouko, confusing her with how it seems she's working with Junko? That could be interesting. It could also be interesting that she works in the shadows, but I do like the messiness that comes with Ryouko seeing her working with Junko, feeling like she's been betrayed. Maybe she wants to forget such a thing so much that she never writes it down, and each time is a new betrayal.

But, she would also not be cool with killing Yasuke. And Junko and Mukuro know it. Junko would probably lie after the fact that she only killed him to defend herself - since Yasuke does start choking her. Which... Mikan would have really complicated feelings on. She'd probably comfort Junko about it, though, which is the real kicker.

The whole thing would probably end really messy. If Mikan ever caught on that Junko killed Yasuke for fun, she'd... probably be very unnerved. In this situation, she's built just as much as a bond with Yasuke as Junko. She might just not believe it on its face. She might become scared that Junko would betray her too. I feel like, in a world where Yasuke was a force in Mikan's life from the start, she'd have much more stable attachments, so she wouldn't be quite as obsessed with Junko. (Vs in a scenario where they met later- especially if they met because of Junko, since that would just subconsciously confirm to Mikan that she has all these good things because of Junko, too.) Despite having more time with Junko, I could actually see her as far more sane and stable than her counterpart. Because unlike canon Mikan, she actually did get support when she needed it. (Now if her childhood friend was only Junko, that would be a different story.)

Matsushima already reads as a Greek tragedy, but adding Mikan into it just makes the whole thing even more tragic in this case. (Junko would approve.) But good gosh is the image of tiny Yasuke, Junko, and Mikan eating orange slices that mama Matsuda served them too gosh dang adorable.

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 5

Chapter 5 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Eddie and Evan decide to get married, so Eddie can go off to war. Evan has to deal with being a parent alone, with Helena judging his parenting. Not to mention Eddie getting send back injured.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slowburn)

Warnings: ableism, emotionally abusive parents, insecurity, homophobia

~~~

Chapter 5: Mr. & Mr. Convenience

They’ve run over the numbers an unholy amount of times. If Evan’s senior year math teacher saw him now, she’d have a surprised induced medical emergency with the amount of calculations he’s done. No matter how they count, Eddie is right. He’s going to have to re-enlist.

When the reality sinks in, Evan feels a fear grip his throat and softly he asks: “What’s going to happen to me and Chris if you do? You know your mom is never going to let me stay with him.”

A part of him thinks, this is it. I have finally overstayed my welcome and Eddie is going to leave to fight a war and Chris will go to his grandparents and I am no longer useful. It hurts, these past few years have been hard, but they’ve been so good too. He doesn’t want to lose the best family he has ever had over medical bills, but it seems like that will be his life.

Before his thoughts can spiral into anything more depressing, Eddie says: “They can’t do shit if you’re his legal guardian. We can do paperwork about that, right?”

“You want me to adopt Chris?” Evan has to check, because that can’t be right. This is the part where people leave, not where people pull him closer.

“Do you- do you not want to? I mean, you don’t have to, I get-” Eddie stutters, suddenly realizing just what he is asking Evan to do. He has already done so much, it keeps surprising him every day that he is still here.

“Of course I want to,” Evan cuts him off. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Evan, you’re basically his other dad. This will only make it official,” Eddie tells him as seriously and heartfelt as he can. He still isn’t great at emotions, but for Evan, for his family, he’s willing to try.

“Thank you,” Evan says, hugging him close, despite the awkward angle and the table digging into both their stomachs.

“No, thank you,” Eddie replies, glad that Evan starts crying so he doesn’t have to explain his own moist eyes.

He leaves Evan to go on a research binge about how to best tackle this, while he sits back, mentally trying to process what re-enlisting will mean. He’s going to have to say goodbye to Chris again. It seems even more difficult than it had been the first time around. They’re going to have to let his parents help again too.

As much as Eddie wishes he could, he knows Evan can’t take care of Chris by himself when he is gone. He is already doing way too much by trying. But Eddie is sure that if he lets Chris go to his parents now, he’ll never get him back. He can’t allow that to happen.

That helpless frustrated feeling is back and Eddie hates it. He needs to move. He wants to run away, but that isn’t possible. So, he makes a pot of coffee instead, it is already a late night and it’ll probably become a later one. He is used to it, but Evan is going to need the caffeine.

His own coffee is black, but Evan takes his with two sugars and way too much milk. Eddie thinks it is not how coffee is supposed to be drunk. No one likes the bitter taste, you just have to get used to it. However, he makes Evan his version of coffee without complaint.

When the coffee is done, he puts Evan’s mug next to him, taking a sip of his own as he leans his hand on the table, taking his place behind Evan’s chair to look over his shoulder to see what he’s doing, though not actually reading anything as he asks: “So, what did you find?”

Evan rubs his face with his hands as he takes a break from staring at the screen. He says: “All of them take a long time, too long for the timeline we’re working on with those bills. Unless you want to get married.”

Eddie can admit later that he chokes on the sip of coffee. However, he recovers in record time and actually thinks about it. He and Evan are a lot like a married couple when he thinks about it. They live together, raise a kid together, even sleep in the same bed (albeit practically never at the same time). He’s not gay and Evan has never mentioned being gay either, but you don’t have to be in love to be married. His marriage with Shannon wasn’t entirely out of pure love either. It’ll just be for convenience.

“Alright,” he says after a beat. “Let’s get married.”

“What? Are you serious?” Evan exclaims, giving Eddie wide eyes. He won’t mind being married to Eddie, even if it’s just so he can adopt Chris, but he never thought Mr. Toxic Masculinity Was My Childhood would go for it.

“Yeah, it’s legal right? And it’s the easiest. They don’t actually check if you fuck when you get married and take it from me, being divorced isn’t the end of the world either,” Eddie tells him.

A little feeling that Evan has been refusing to name feels a little crushed at the word ‘divorce’, but he doesn’t let it get to him. They’re friend. Best friends. And co-parents. He would withstand a lot for Chris, and it isn’t exactly a hardship to be married to Eddie. So he says: “Okay. Yeah. Sure. Let’s get married.”

“Cool,” Eddie smiles at him.

“Really? Cool?” Evan guffaws, playing it up to make Eddie laugh. “I don’t know if I’ll marry someone if their proposal consists of ‘cool,’ I’ll have you know.”

Eddie does, in fact, laugh, before dramatically dropping on one knee and saying: “Evan will you do me the honor of giving me tax benefits and parenting breaks.”

“You’re a fucking dork,” Evan informs him gleefully, though he’s unable to stop himself from blushing either.

“Is that an I do?” Eddie asks, leaning in and suddenly much closer than he has ever been.

Evan feels a little breathless as he nods: “Yeah, I- I guess it was.”

“Great,” Eddie smiles, then pulls back as he gets back up, groaning as he does so.

“You’re twenty-four, not eighty,” Evan rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” Eddie retorts. “We should go to bed. We have a wedding to plan in the morning.”

He starts putting everything away and Evan follows suit in their familiar dance of doing the picking up. “We’re not actually going to plan a wedding, right? Or do you have your sights set on Chris being the ring bearer or something?”

“As adorable as that would be, we’re not actually going to plan a wedding. Do you have any idea how expensive those are?”

Evan doesn’t know how to feel about that exactly, but he lets it go for now. They get ready for bed together and get in. They’ve been sharing the bed for a long time now, but it’s feel weirdly different to lie next to each other now. Technically engaged.

After a few moments of them lying side by side staring at the ceiling, Eddie softly says: “You don’t have to, you know that right? It’s not as if my parents can come snatch him out of your hands.”

“I want to have the legal backing if I’m going to try and pick him up from Helena’s house after she babysits. I don’t think a kidnapping charge would look good on my record.”

“I know, I’m just saying that I won’t be mad if you change your mind or-”

“Shut up,” Evan hits him with his pillow, earning a squawk. “I want to, I’m going to. Now sleep, I have work in the morning.”

And that’s that.

They call the same lawyer that did Eddie’s divorce in the morning and Eddie goes over to get a prenup made, not wanting a repeat of having to sort everything like he had to do with Shannon, because this is just for now. This isn’t going to be permanent, at some point Evan is going to find someone he loves and marry her. Eddie doesn’t know why that thought stings.

He also gets the adoption paperwork ready for when they come over after their wedding. Doing that doesn’t leave the same weird feeling in his stomach, he just takes it to mean he’s making the right choice, letting Evan into his life more. If that’s even possible.

A week later they’re at a courthouse with only Chris as their witness. Both are unreasonably nervous and the press of lips feels weird, but also not. Neither can look the other in the eyes afterwards.

The people who work there take some pictures of them and it’s so ridiculous that it breaks the tension. The two of them, along with Chris, do some weird poses and they’re pretty happy with their wedding day photos, even if they’ll probably get stuffed in a drawer somewhere and then forgotten.

Neither of them think anything will really change, they tied the knot because it is convenient, not because they want to be married. It’s just the best solution they have for now.

This assumption is proven to be incorrect when they eat dinner the first day after they got married when Chris asks: “Did you have a good day, papi?”

Eddie startles a little and sends Evan a look to see if he knows what’s happening, because Eddie has always been daddy. By the looks of it, Evan is just as confused as he is. Eddie turns back to Chris and says: “It was good, mijo.”

“No, silly, not you,” Chris giggles. He is going through a phase where he likes the word silly, he thinks it sounds, you know, silly.

“Me?” Evan asks, eyes wide as he points at himself.

“Uh-huh,” Chris nods. “I told Ms. Jane you are married. She says you’re my daddy too. But daddy is already daddy.”

That makes a surprising amount of sense, but as much as Evan would adore being referred to as his dad by Chris, he doesn’t want the kid to do anything he doesn’t want to. “You don’t have to call me anything you don’t want to Chris. Not because Ms. Jane told you so.”

Eddie surprises him by adding: “But you are allowed to if you want to. You’re right. Evan is your other daddy.”

He meets Evan’s eyes when he says the last part, trying to imprint it onto him that he means it. If there is one thing he knows about Evan, it’s that he can be insecure. Like, they’re married and he’s still worried about overstepping.

Chris is quiet for a second, thinking, then he smiles: “Okay. I’m going to.” Before asking again: “So, did you have a good day, papi?”

“I did,” Evan smiles, thrilled at the development and endeared that Chris is asking him. He always asks the same when he comes home and it seems Chris has picked up on the habit.

Another thing that changes, is their relationship with Eddie’s parents. Evan doesn’t go with him to tell them he re-enlisted and Evan is taking care of Chris while he is away on tour. The news is not well received. Evan will swear he heard the yelling all the way back home.

When Eddie comes back, he looks about ten years older and Evan cautiously asks: “So, how did that go?”

“Well, let’s see,” Eddie sighs, rubbing his face, before ticking off on his hand. “If this were a real relationship, they’d never support it. They can’t believe I’d go this far to keep their grandchild from them. I’m a horrible father for leaving Chris. Again. Especially because I’m leaving him with you. But they are willing to work with us, for Chris’s sake.”

“That… That is a lot,” Evan says, processing what Eddie has just said.

“Yeah, it is.” Eddie throws himself on the couch next to him. “And I don’t trust their motives either, but it’s not like we have a choice.”

“No, we don’t,” Evan sighs, also slumping into the couch. “Beer?”

“Please.”

The Diaz parents knowing also has another side effect of their business being spread all over town, which half-helps against homophobes, because Ramon makes it very clear that his son is being a rebellious kid, who is making idiotic decisions and Evan is the queer villain, who is tricking their son and stealing their grandchild.

Not ideal rumors to have going around, but Evan has a lot of practice not letting things get to him and Chris is too happy of a presence and sadly also too used to whispers following him.

The whispers get worse when Eddie actually leaves, but Evan never tells him. He has enough to worry about in a war zone, he doesn’t need to deal with Evan’s hurt feelings. Unless they get to Chris, it’s not important.

God, Chris. Telling him daddy had to leave again is one of the hardest things either of them have ever had to do.

He screams and cries and refuses to let either of them go for days. Evan thinks he’ll never be able to forget Chris wailing: “No, daddy, no! You can’t go, because you come back, but then papi will leave, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want either of you to leave.”

Evan hugs Chis close and promises: “Papi is never gonna go, sweetheart. I’m not going to leave you, even when daddy comes back. And he’s going to come, it’s not forever. And I’m going to be right here. Always. Okay? I promise.”

It’s the first time he ever referred to himself as papi, but he doesn’t even get to panic about it, too busy making sure Chris is okay. He teaches him the secret of the pinky promise, trying to ignore how Maddie didn’t keep her pinky promise to him. He vows that Chris will never have to learn that pinky promises are as meaningless as the normal ones.

When Eddie leaves, it is hard all over again. Evan and Chris drive him to the airport, Eddie in the backseat with Chris so they can cling to each other for as long as possible. Evan watches them fondly through the rear view mirror, heart aching and heavy, despite the fondness it is filled with.

He is about as ready as Chris is to drop Eddie off. He knows it’s for the best, did the math himself, then had someone more competent do the math as well. He would’ve offered to go instead in a heartbeat, but Eddie never would have let him. Evan knows he’s doing better for Chris, but sometimes it is so clear that he needs to be the man of the house. Needs to provide. So, here Evan is, having to let him go.

Evan doesn’t feel ready for it, but he supposes no parent feels ready to do it by themselves.

He’s seen how Shannon wasn’t ready and crumbled under it, seen the panic in Eddie’s eyes the day he realized he’d have to do it alone. He made sure Eddie never had to do it alone, but here he is and he is hoping with all he has that he’s not going to crumble like Shannon did. Chris won’t survive it if he does and he can’t do that to him. So he prays a little, even though he doesn’t really believe.

They park the car at the airport and Evan gets out alongside the others. Eddie unbuckles Chris, while Evan goes to grab his bags. Chris happily lets daddy carry him as far as he can, then tries to hold on for longer, hoping that if he can make him miss the flight, he won’t leave them.

It’s almost more heartbreaking than telling Chris when Evan has to pry his little fingers from Eddie’s clothes as Eddie backs up far enough that Chris can’t grab him again.

He holds Chris in his arms while he cries, pretty sure Eddie is crying too as he backs away further into the airport, still waving and refusing to turn his back on them until he absolutely has to. Evan wants to cry as well, but he keeps himself as strong as he can. For Chris. So, he takes Chris’s hand in his own and makes it wave, hoping that’ll be enough of something to make up for departure (he knows it won’t, nothing ever will).

The two of them stand there until Eddie has long since disappeared into the crowd. Neither of them are ready to leave yet. It’s almost as if they stand there long enough, Eddie will return.

Usually, it’s Eddie who makes the difficult calls, since he is Chris’s actual dad, no matter what the paperwork might tell you, so he has the final say. But now Evan is the one that has to make all the decisions, including the hard ones. So, he is the one that has to walk away.

Chris starts crying again the second he does and Evan doesn’t think he’ll ever feel like a worse person than he does in that moment, carrying a protesting, quivering, crying Chris back to the car and away from his dad.

Without Eddie there, the house is quiet. They lived alongside each other more than with each other for most of the time, but Evan is missing the little pockets of time he used to fill with Eddie.

It feels weirdly empty.

Lonely.

Especially the first few weeks when Chris doesn’t speak unless he has to. Evan knows Chris misses the empty spaces Eddie leaves more than him and he doesn’t blame the kid for being upset. It just hammers home how unprepared he is for this, how much he can’t do this alone, how he’ll never measure up to Eddie as a presence in Chris’s life.

However, Eddie calls. Evan can’t always be there when it happens and he knows it isn’t the same as having him there, but it gets Chris out of his shell again.

Those first weeks he only talks to Eddie, then he slowly starts talking to Evan again. A few days later, he talks to his grandparents too, something he learns because a smug Helena informs him of it when he comes to pick up Chris.

She is going to use it as a reason she should keep Chris there longer, since he is obviously more comfortable there. She hadn’t been able to sway Eddie before he left, but she has been trying again with Evan from the second they came back from the airport.

But, Buckley stubbornness is nothing to sniff at, so he just smiles pleasantly and says: “Good to hear he’s opened up here too. He was already talking at home a few days ago, but for a second there it seemed me and Eddie were the only ones that were going to hear his voice, it’s nice that he’s coming back to himself. Settling in again.” And Buckley pettiness is also pretty strong.

Helena’s face drops at that, twisting into something displeased as she replies: “Yes, with his sensibilities, it’s good that he’s recovering from the shock Eddie put him through.”

Talking to Helena always leaves a sour taste in his mouth and the time he spends talking with her has increased considerably since Eddie left. He specifically doesn’t like how she undermines Eddie and babies Chris. It gets on his nerves. His two Diaz boys are capable and she doesn’t get to decide they aren’t.

It makes his blood boil and he wants to fight her every single time he comes to pick up Chris. But he doesn’t want Chris to grow up around arguing, and neither does Eddie. It’s one of the things that they agreed on when it came up during the late nights when Eddie opened up about everything. How Chris has been around enough arguing already.

So, he tries to bite his tongue and scrounges up some sympathy to extend to Shannon for putting up with it for three years. Though, when he reflects, he’s also getting to the three years. He met Chris when he was three and birthday number six is coming up. It’s crazy how his short stop in El Paso for some more travel money devolved so quickly. Not that he regrets a thing.

With strained politeness, he forces out: “Chris is a strong kid and Eddie is caring for him, he knows that. He just has to adjust. Now, we need to go.” A little louder he calls out: “You got your stuff, Superman?”

“Yes, papi,” Chris calls back and he sees how Helena’s face sours even more at that.

She doesn’t like that he lets Chris walk to the car by himself and she certainly doesn’t like that he calls Evan papi. If it were up to her, Evan would’ve never met Chris or Eddie. He should have disappeared right alongside Shannon and the fact that he didn’t is quite the affront to her. Evan tries not to care, he’s used to parents not wanting to have him around, he can take it.

As Chris makes his way to the car, she can’t help but comment: “Be careful Chris that is dangerous, let Evan carry you.”

“Do you want to be carried, Chris?” Evan asks, before she can continue or Chris can reply.

“No, I can do it,” Chris says.

Evan shoots her a look that says ‘what can you do?’ not being very apologetic or genuine about it as he says: “He can do it.”

He allows himself those little petty moments. To stay sane. He can do a lot by himself, but with his hours he can’t pick up Chris from kindergarten, so he has to rely on Helena – and Ramon when he is in town – to do it for him and watch him until he is let off.

It’s not optimal, but he makes do. Eddie trusts him with his kid, Eddie married him, so Chris would be taken care of. That is so far beyond what anyone has ever granted Evan and he refuses to let him down. Even if school gets tense around him being in Chris and Eddie’s life like that and they have to switch where Chris does his PT.

Chris blows out his six birthday candles on a video call with daddy, surrounded by strained family relations. It’s not much better than his fifth, which he spend crying because mommy didn’t come back to celebrate. Evan hopes his seventh birthday will be better.

Evan tries his best to make it a good birthday, he saved up to buy him some nice presents, plays nice with Helena and Ramon, and showers Chris with as much love and attention as he can, trying to make up for the two missing parents.

He forces on cheer the whole day, infusing the birthday with as much love and happiness as he can, then tucks Chris in bed at the end of the night, crawls into his own and cries.

He cries, because he doesn’t want to do this alone, he can’t give Chris the childhood he deserves and he doesn’t know why Eddie trusts him with it, because he’s incompetent Evan. The child his parents don’t want, the idiot who couldn’t finish college and traveled all over to escape his failure and the disappointment. Who accidentally tripped into the best thing that has ever happened to him and is now ruining it.

Chris is old enough that he’ll remember this period. He’s likely not going to know much from Shannon’s struggles, but he’ll remember Evan’s. He will remember how much Evan can’t measure up against all the other people that care for him, how he lets Chris call him papi even though he doesn’t deserve the title at all.

Evan is probably fucking Chris over for life and he can’t stop, can’t walk away, because the only thing he can imagine that is worse than being bad at raising Chris, is not raising Chris at all.

Still, the overwhelming feeling of being insufficient and being lonely presses down on him and he cries a little more, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. That night he wishes Eddie would be there with them again and he is pretty sure Chris wished the same when he blew out those candles.

He regrets making that wish a few months later when he picks up the phone to find a very official voice asking if he is speaking to Evan Buckley, husband of Eddie Diaz.

It’s still weird to hear that said out loud, despite being married for almost a year now, because no one around him acknowledges it really. Not that’s real, beyond the fact that it is real. So he stumbles for a moment as he says: “Y- yeah, uhm, yes, that’s me.”

“We’re calling you, because of an incident involving your husband,” the person on the other end informs him and his stomach just drops, the world collapsing in on itself.

No. No.

This can’t be the call. His legs are jello and his lungs aren’t working.

The voice continues on: “He was injured in this incident and has been transported to Germany to recover, once he is stable enough to make the journey, we’ll bring him home to you,” which brings some relief, because he’s not dead, but Evan’s world is still off kilter, because Eddie is injured.

Eddie is injured. Eddie is badly injured. He isn’t stable enough to come home. He could have died out there.

There is a buzzing in his ears and he is perceiving at the world as if he’s looking through a layer of water. Dazed he makes it through the rest of the conversation with the military person about the state Eddie is in and the logistics of getting him home and getting into contact with him. He retains it all, because it’s important, but it doesn’t feel real. He doesn’t want it to be real.

Evan feels entirely disconnected from his body, because yeah, Eddie is alive. Eddie is probably going to be okay. But for a second there, Eddie might not have been. For a second Evan thought he was getting a very, very different call.

And that scares the shit out of him.

That moment wherein Eddie wasn’t coming back, wherein Evan wasn’t just taking care of Chris by himself until Eddie came back, but had to do it alone for the rest of his life, that scares him.

He keeps telling himself it scares him, because Chris would have been devastated by the news that daddy is never coming home. That it’s not about Evan, but about the kid that is his son, because Evan is just the guy that Eddie married so he wouldn’t have to fight his parents. Because Eddie will come back from war, divorce him and try to find stability without him. That Evan only has a place in his life, because he’s useful to Chris.

But he is realizing now that it isn’t just Chris, who has been waiting for a loved one to come home, it’s Evan too.

It’s a horrible thing, to finally name that thing you’ve been ignoring as nothing but a small crush as love. To realize it’s much more than a fleeting thing, that you’re in love with his best friend while he’s injured and on the other side of the world and you’re at home watching his kid, married to him, but not together.

So, he collapses, lets himself cry and grieve a relationship that will probably never be, then pulls himself back together again. He can’t break down, he still has to tell Chris daddy got hurt.

~~

A/N:

I am making up legalities for the fic, I do not actually know how to adopt a child easily and it can be wildly inaccurate, but I don’t care, bc it helps my plot xp

Also Chris would be hit harder with this additional third tour I’m giving Eddie, since he’s older and can process the leaving, especially after Shannon already left, so I’m hoping it’s not too out of character for people, since I do also love our resident sunshine boy :D

(in my mind he did a tour when Shannon was pregnant, then after she gave birth and now this one)

[asha-mage]

Would love to hear five fun facts about an AU where one of the other Two Rivers boys is the Dragon Reborn - Mat or Perrin, the choice is yours.

[Send me a potential AU and I'll answer with five things from that story!]

Going with Mat here-

Since I have such a hard time separating the idea of Rand from the idea of the Dragon, as both mythological figure and for LTT reasons, I'd probably approach this from the angle that Mat is the 'champion of the light' in this specific turning, i.e still the Gambler/Son of Battles archetype, but whose past life resulted in the Breaking of the World, and who must now redeem himself through defeating the Dark One in the present era, and re-sealing the Bore. I would keep the trickster fox symbolism, but mix in heavy elements of Loki (in particular the bits surrounding the death of Balder, and the murder of his sons Nari and Vali as punishment/use to bind him). I would also replaced Callandor (which is an OG exaclibur refrence) with Lævateinn, one of Loki's mythological weapons, an draw heavy parallels with both Gungir and the arrow crafted to slay Balder of mistletoe.

Mat struggles a lot more then Rand with certain aspects of being the savior, less so with others. He's far, far more resistant to accepting his fate especially in the begging, and the story would need to force him into a position where he had the illusion of choice. Rand could be compelled by duty and compassion to accept he is The Dragon- Mat would defiantly refuse just to spite fate.

I would keep the idea that Mat was born outside the Two Rivers, but not make him Aiel born. Instead I'd probably make him Seanchan born- instead of the Aiel War twenty years ago, it was the First Seanchan invasion, with them being beaten back at the Bloodsnows instead, in a decisive (but costly) Westlands victory. Instead of Maiden of the Spear, Mat's biological mother would have been a Deathwatch Guard, likely someone also originally from the Westlands, with a parallel story to Shaiel'sl. His father would have been an Imperial Prince (an adoptive brother of Radhanan's/potential threat to her power) placed in charge of the invasion as a suicide mission/punishment for disgrace.

Conversely it is the Seanchan that Mat has to bind to aid him rather then the Aiel- something he struggles with a lot more then Rand did with the Aiel, though he also feels a lot less guilty about upending their culture and social order then Rand did. This also means he spends TSR/TFOH journeying to, then having to directly confront the Court of the Nine Moons et all, where has to reveal the secret lies of which the Empire predicates it's strength. This leaves Tuon in Couladin's approximate role: the rallying point of Imperial opposition, attempting to pry loose Mat's grip on power.

Because I am, in my heart of hearts a filthy Cauthor shipper- I would have Rand remain at Mat's side as confidant and guardian through to the bitter end. In my head he ends up taking up the dagger in order to protect Mat from Mordeth, and almost consumed by it in a similar way before breaking free/being healed. Though I wouldn't have him Aiel born, I probably would give him an parallel Aiel Training Arc to both help get over Dagger Withdrawal Syndrome and find his niche (assuming he can't channel in this turning).

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Do Eddie and Steve have any Angle/Demon magic they can use on us,cause I think it would be funny if someone was flirting with y/n suddenly they just see the flames of hell engulf them?

hmmm, yes.... this is probably a good time to lay down some of the ideas I have on how they work:

so, guardian angels and devils, I think they are these fluid creatures who can look however they please.

so some of their more angelic and or demonic features is something that they can either turn on or off, or it is something involuntary that flares up in intense moments (arousal, anger, etc)

for example, I've already dropped some hints that Eddie's eyes aren't always completely black but sometimes they are (this one I think is very based in emotions. like a mood ring lol, but it's his eyes)

and does he have horns? he could, if he wants to.

and Steve can pop out a pair of feathery wings if he so wishes. I think he has a pair of big scars on his back indicating where they come out from.

and Eddie can totally make little illusions. but like shadowy ones, kinda spoopy

and I think Steve has a way of getting into people's heads, hypnotising them...

...alright... listen.... i gotta confess something... rn, all I'm thinking about is a thing someone said about having sweet sweet tentacle sex with these guys and now I can't think about anything else. for these purposes, these extremely important horny purposes, lets just say that that is a thing that they can do. it's canon. idk if it'll come up again, but in my heart it's a big ol yes. (but like on an aesthetic level I think their tentacles look different. Eddie's is completely black, like tar, where as steve's is, hmmm, I'm not 100% sure... maybe it's like light? maybe it's kinda nature like? maybe his are invisible with just the slightest little bit of sparkle?)

this is just a start and what I could remember tonight before I fall asleep. the list will 100% get longer when more fun stuff falls into place. if you have any ideas, then feel free to share them with me! ♡  

| devil & angel AU masterlist | 

[pup-pee]

i literallyt started going insane yesterday

ion; guardian of the universe issue #12

i mean ik u saw these alr BUT I JUST ISTG ITS REAL OK THESE R SO REAL

@pup-pee was reading Kyle Angst and I said the quote and jay said "Writing that on his grave" and I was like bet, but I rushed this bec I played honkai and forgot dshfjdhsjfhdsj

[birthdaycakeplate]

Ambiguous Ceasefire AU

Everyone’s favorite trope- Megatron gets high in the medbay and flirts with Optimus ✨

(I cannot proof read this or I will die)

————————————-

“It’s processor damage, Ratchet-“

“No, it’s processor lag. Stop fretting, Prime. He shouldn’t of been drinking that slag with an injury like that.”

“It’s a common practice, stumpy. Decepticons do not have ze luxury of pain patches jou hoity-toity Autobots do.”

“This is peace time, Strika. He could have waited for me to get to him after he comm’ed for me! Overcharge interferes with medication.”

“Please don’t raise your voice, Ratchet. He’s likely very sensitive.”

Megatron made a pathetic noise of agreement. Though it was too great a chore to open his optics and see for himself who was yelling back and forth at one another over his helpless, prone form, he could at least summon the strength to wave his servo in a silent plea to be spared.

These bots sounded far too over involved, and Megatron just wanted to sleep…

He shifted to find his bearings and a tremor ran through him as a searing sensation nestled deep in his abdominal plate screamed at him in protest. He conceded with a hiss, falling back against the padded slab beneath him.

“Hey! Stop moving!”

Megatron flinched at the sudden shouting.

“Let him.” Said the thick accent.

“He has to learn his lesson.”

“But it’s not his fault- you said he was trying to numb the pain.”

‘Not his fault’.

If Megatron’s glossa weren’t impossibly heavy and he had a slice of a processor left to think with, he knew he’d be quite inclined to chat with the more forgiving of the three voices above him to help him make sense of things.

He liked having a sensible mech around.

“He’s an idiot, but he was also desperate, you two.”

Megatron took it back.

Sleep was clearly not an option anymore, nor was a moment’s peace of the burning hole in his tank keeping him on high alert.

Through sheer force of will -and the need to assert himself, especially as an incapacitated warlord- Megatron cracked an optic open to address the spinning room at large.

In seconds, the colliding world of colors and far too bright lights came into a hazy focus, morphing into a sight more arresting than his first view of the Iacon tower in 4 millennia.

Before him stood a stunningly vivid mech, painted in blues and reds, silvers and yellows, and peering down at him with such captivation.

Shielding him from the blinding light in his optics with his curiously cocked helm.

Or perhaps, Megatron thought, that was concern etched into his smooth features- rather unsure of how to behold the colossal mech laid before him.

Megatron had built an empire with… ‘physical persuasion’ and his dashing charisma, and this new recruit was clearly feeling out of his depths at the sight of his glorious leader. Even in the pathetic state he was in -which Megatron could tell by his aching joints.

He was simply too magnificent a mech.

“Megatron?” The young recruit spoke his name, and in an instant of clarity, as Energon rushed to Megatron’s helm -and with it, the euphoric tendrils of some unnamed emotion- Megatron realized in wonder and awe that this was no recruit he’d ever seen before- because the blue mech wasn’t one.

“….M-Megatron?”

He was a guardian sent by Primus. That was a halo above his angled helm.

“A holy architect of the AllSpark.” The helicopter murmured in a hushed voice. Lying there in worship.

“You are a messenger of Primus?”

Wide optics stared back at him.

“No- Megatron, you’re not dead.” That little billed helm shook.

“This is Cybertron.”

“I don’t think he thinks he’s dead and gone to the well of AllSparks.” Ratchet mumbled somewhere off to his side. Dialing in another boost of sensor blockers to rush Megatron’s sensor net and effectively muddle his already vacant processor further.

With the new surge of pleasure came another ping of inspiration, as Megatron’s sharp denta gleamed and curled back into the first genuine smile he’d fostered in ages.

The little angel looked at him, terrified.

“You are a messenger, here to give me strength to stand and weather these injuries to fight another day. I can feel myself returning to my full glory from just your presence here.”

“That would be the cortical patch.” Ratchet spoke again.

“You’re high. Feels good, don’t it?”

The angel began to shake his helm more frantically at Megatron’s blatant leering.

“I’m not a… a… u-um. I’m…”

“When I raise my sword again, fair Virgo,” Megatron’s rumbling vocalizer broke with the roughness of recharge attempting to take over him.

“Know that it is you I pray to victory for.”

Laughter burst throughout the little makeshift medbay as Strika heaved her vents empty. Ratchet struggled similarly.

Megatron did not mind the boisterous -frankly bothersome in this moment of rare beauty- laughter, as the angel’s blue faceplates turned kissably red all at once because of it.

Perhaps he was shy and unused to the thunderous sounds of war. The battlefield was always full of raucous mechs, and untouched by the appearance of a creation so pure and precious, did not know how to shelter one from it.

Megatron attempted to reach up and pacify the frightened thing by freckling each cheekplate with a gentle press of his lips to them, but found himself immediately knocked back by the weight of his own unresponsive limbs.

“Megatron!” The little mech reached out and grabbed his paw of a hand, barely able to grip one massive digit, squeezing for some kind of confirmation that Megatron was ok.

He was out, though. Giving in to the impressive cocktail of blockers Ratchet had calculated he’d fall victim to several minutes ago.

The laughter continued until Strika was on her knees on the floor, scrambling to string a sentence together.

“It’s processor lag…” Optimus reminded them.

———————————

Megatron had been subjected to the recording Strika had taken ten times over -or what little he could make of it over her deafening cackling. The wretched glitch.

Why he hadn’t permanently demoted her right then and there with his fusion cannon was entirely Lugnut’s fault, with his endless litany of loyalties Megatron needed to take into account.

He had to admit, while he couldn’t see most of what he and Optimus were up to by the end of Strika’s wheezing attack, he could not deny that that was his voice on the other end of the recording, promising his spark away to his former rival and crooning over him like he was the one bleeding out on a medberth.

Not that Megatron would be worried if he were…

At least their entire Earth teams hadn’t bared witness to the display, as they had when it’d been Blitzwing and Bumblebee accidentally confessing to one another. And that had been fairly explicit in its presentation, too.

So it could have been worse…

Optimus, with his flushed face, wasn’t looking at him like he shared that opinion anymore, though….

————

Actually, Optimus is gay as fuck right now and he wants to do that again please, but he doesn’t think he deserves it, you know how his insecurities are

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Angle Neil please :))

WIP Wednesday (2/21) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 120)

Andrew sits quietly with that, trying to understand why exactly a five year old would need to know how to use a knife. And trying to process how the fuck an angel made of thin air and pretty thoughts can hold one. He can’t come up with an explanation for either. But the latter is more pressing an issue. Is Neil actually solid? Or… Has Andrew imagined handing him a knife? Andrew subtly pats at his inner arm and the knife is gone. 

It’s still in Neil’s hand. He’s really holding it. Oh. 

Oh. Andrew’s eyes widen. If he’s really holding something that is real. That means… He’s touchable. But more than that, he’s solid. He’s real? Neil is real. Neil is real and… Oh shit, Neil is still talking and Andrew has heard virtually none of this seldom given backstory! Damn it. He blinks and tunes back in just in time for Neil to stop being interesting.

“Anyways, for better and worse, I know my way around knives. You’re better off with a pocket knife. You know, the folding ones. At least you can hold that in your fist to strengthen a punch.” Neil says, holding the knife back out. 

Andrew wordlessly accepts it and is even more rattled when the handle is still warm. Neil is real and solid and warm to the touch? Andrew is not sure what to do with this information. The kissing thoughts reappear as he mechanically pushes the knife back up into his armband.

“That’s a good way to bleed to death,” Neil says, his jaw clenching. “Unless there are sheathes built into those.”

Oh right. Time to speak. To the pretty angel who apparently is actually real and has a physical form. Andrew coughs into his fist. “Don’t worry about it.”

[randomrando767]

Supernatural au take two.

Luffy's a werewolf, shanks turned him. Zoro is an oni, same with Robin. Nami is a dragon born, Ussop is a fea, chopper is a chimera, Brook and Jimbei stay the same. Sabo is a vampire, Dragon is one too, Roger Rouge and Ace are all angles. Coby is gaurdain, I'll explain that in a second.

The marines are monster hunters. They work with angels and guardians, and that's about it.

Angles and oni's have veiled and unveiled forms.

Guardians are porcelain beings that just kinda spawn. They don't age, but they can be killed. If you best one in a battle, they become bound to you. They're also about 10 ft tall cause the idea of Luffy sitting on Cody's shoulder makes me laugh. Guardians are based off of the guardians in the podcast Unbalanced Encounters: Rally.

Sabo used to be a normal human, but Dragon turned him to keep him alive. Shanks just turned Luffy cause he thought I'd be funny, he was right.

Garp is also an angel, but unlike the other angels, he has no backbone. He's the only angel in the Marines, but they do have 9 guardians, not including Coby cause he owes Luffy and refuses to leave him. This is meant in the gay way.

Coby ends up losing his arm protecting Luffy during marineford, Luffy does wholeheartedly tear Akainu's throat out with his bear teeth.

[onegoomensauaday]

Good Omens AU 46:

Crowley is a politician, Aziraphale is his guardian angle body guard. Secretly they are in love and often kiss on the lips.

Then thre is an attempted assassination on Crowley, and Aziraphale jumps in the way of the bullet.

[smaller-comfort]

It is WIP Wednesday, my dudes!

I need to work on necron stuff, but instead I've been kicking away at actually fluffy SoS things. Palate cleansers, now that Save Scumming is done.

A little bit of Outshine the Sun, Etudes, and Modern AU.

Untitled Aephorul/Resh'an, the extremely silly, porny sequel to Save Scumming.

--

“Let me look at you,” Resh'an said at last.

“Hmph.” He didn't want to. It didn't matter what Resh'an said; there was always that moment when he could see the pity in Resh'an's eyes. And then the disgust. Resh'an was good at hiding it- but he'd always been an open book to Aephorul.

Still. They were trying something new. He let go of Resh'an. “I'll show you mine if you show me yours.”

For a moment Resh'an just stared at him with narrowed eyes, but then he shrugged. “On three?” Resh'an tucked his fingers under the edge of his mask.

“One.” Aephorul rearranged the flesh beneath his hood into something vaguely face-like.

“Two.” Resh'an's eyes glowed a little brighter.

“Three.” In unison, Aephorul pulled back his hood and Resh'an pulled down his mask, and they both dispelled the illusions that hid their faces.

He hissed again, this time in sympathy; when they'd last met, Resh'an hadn't looked good, but he'd at least been relatively whole. Now, half his face was missing, the skin torn away to reveal the skull beneath. The lower mandibular angle was crazed with hairline fractures.

----

Etudes: Beginnings (B'st/Resh'an). I'm still going to finish Glass Harp first, but now this series has over 15k words and at least five separate stories in it and I've clearly lost control of my life. Resh'an is such an unmitigated disaster in this series, but he's trying so hard.

----

He rarely used his bedroom in the tower; on the rare occasions that he actually slept, he usually just put his head down at his desk. The actual bedroom and living quarters had become a secondary storage space for his research notes. The first time B'st had found an entrance to the Archives, Resh'an had thrown him into a time loop in a mild state of panic, and then hucked everything in the bedroom into an extradimensional storage closet. 

He'd gotten so used to solitude- but that was no excuse for poor hospitality. When he released B'st from the time loop (hopefully none the wiser, but he wasn't going to ask) the bedroom was sparsely furnished, but clean. In the end, it didn't matter; they hadn't spent any time there that first visit. He gave B'st the tour of the tower, such as it was- the library and the reading room at the heart of the Archives, the laboratory, the living quarters- and then they'd spent the rest of their time on the observation deck.

It took considerable effort to unmoor his tower from its physical anchorage, but he did it anyway. It let him relocate the observation deck anywhere he liked, so they could look at the stars from new vantages. Resh'an had, quite frankly, been showing off.

And it had been worth it, to see B'st's eyes- already so bright- light up when Resh'an transported them into the center of a meteor shower.

----

Alternative Sleeping Arrangements (working title), Aephorul/Resh'an, college students au. Aephorul goes home with Resh'an over spring break; he meets Resh'an's aunt; a pillow fort gets built. I'm not sure if this one will ever really get finished, but I like fleshing out some of the background for this AU.

This is a non-magical AU; it literally takes place in New Jersey. But Anais and her partner Estelle are still also Guardian Gods, despite that.

--

He was surprised by how much she looked like Resh'an; she was nearly as tall as Aephorul, with the same long-limbed, willowy silhouette. But on her it looked graceful, where Resh'an always looked like he was surprised he had elbows. Her hair was a frizzy cloud of strawberry blonde to Resh'an's dead straight auburn, but they had the same eyes and the same smile. 

She drifted in on a cloud of sandalwood, peasant skirts swirling above her bare feet and silver bracelets jangling down her arms. “Darling boy!”

Resh'an looked slightly pained at his aunt's endearment. “Hi auntie. This is Aephorul.”

She kissed Resh'an on both cheeks despite the way he rolled his eyes, and then she turned to Aephorul.

He understood what Resh'an had meant when he said his aunt was a lot, now. Anais looked at him like he was a bug caught under a glass. For a moment, her face was as still and cold as a marble statue, unsmiling and distant. Then she smiled at him, the same radiantly beautiful smile that Resh'an used when he was genuinely happy. 

It took considerable effort not to flinch when she offered her hand to shake. Her grip was surprisingly firm. “It's nice to finally meet you,” she said warmly. “Resh'an can show you around the place- Essie's out getting groceries, but when she gets back we'll start on dinner.”

Resh'an rescued Aephorul from his aunt's handshake and tugged him away, down the hallway. “Come on, my room's this way.”

[princess-of-the-corner]

This ask, https://www.tumblr.com/princess-of-the-corner/751158088103608320/not-sure-anyone-proposed-it-an-au-where-lila-is?source=share

Actually made me think on like "Lost Miraculous" what if angles. Either Fu lost them or the Order was slipping even before they got ate.

So Longg is in Kagami's family and she's technically using him but Tomoe has a bunch of encoded commands so snap him back if she wants. They set off to Paris not long after Hawk Moth starts making trouble for vaguely defined reasons.

Trixx has been in Lila's possession for awhile, but as more like a mischievous household spirit that just happens to live in a necklace she bought. She has zero idea he's a Miraculous until she sees the book and outs two and two together.

Not sure if there'd be any others floating about, especially as I default to my 12 Kwami AU format over the shows.... However many XD But I feel like there could be fun in that.

Especially if the Kwami have their own goals and agenda.

Like Trixx may not dislike Fu, buuuuu he also doesn't wanna go back in the box. Pollen & Sass may pay lip service to their deal with the Order, but in truth they'd much rather the Guardians stay ate actually. Roar doesn't really have much of a view on morals and is fine with causing havoc for heroism or villainy but hates fighting family, ETC.

tbh my only thoughts on that last bit are once again #FreeTheKwami