#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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[saturn--scribbles]

Hey

[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:

[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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[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 | 

[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

[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.”

[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.”

[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

[mikibwrites]

Here it is finally! Just under the deadline!

An Absolutely Devastating Scene

M | 5.4k | college au | written for @tarlosweeklyprompts Back to School Event Prompt #20

He approaches the door, reminding himself again that TK is probably out with friends on a Friday night, like he is every weekend, and Carlos can get to sleep in peace. He slips his key into the lock, turning the knob slowly and quietly despite this thought. After all, it’s not guaranteed that TK isn’t asleep in the room, so Carlos wants to be considerate.  He softly nudges the door open, and freezes.  “ Fuck ”, is what he hears, whispered and strained, from the direction of TK’s loft bed. The next thing he registers is the faint buzzing sound, followed by a small whimper. He cuts his eyes to TK’s loft bed, sufficiently high off the ground that he can’t actually see the man from this angle, but hoping to everything holy he hasn’t walked in on some rendezvous he wasn’t aware of (they’d never had the sock on the door talk…why oh why had they never had the sock on the door talk?). The bed moves slightly, and another whine from what is undoubtedly TK’s broken voice emanates from that direction. 

Tagging folks who might be interested under the cut!

@welcometololaland @chaotictarlos @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @taralaurel @bonheur-cafe @alrightbuckaroo @lemonlyman-dotcom @liminalmemories21 @carlos-in-glasses @sanjuwrites @basilsunrise @guardian-angle22 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @lutavero @firstprince-history-huh @lightningboltreader @detective-giggles (that's all I can think of right now, if you'd like to not be tagged, please let me know! Also, if you WOULD like to be tagged, let me know! lol)

[annakacoyett]

TL;DR: In which Rei has constant nightmares but always had someone to cuddle him to sleep. He realizes that he and Akai aren't on that level but he's the only one available and Rei doesn't want to have a panic attack til morning. So yeah.

Cuddle Bug AU:

- Rei always had someone to cuddle him to sleep after nightmares

- the first time was when he dreamt of being abandoned by his parents, then woke up crying in his bunk bed

- one of the older kids was awake, calmed him down and hugged him to sleep because she knew what it was like

- Rei stuck with her all the way until she got adpoted

- (later Rei ran into her again while in the Academy and they kept in touch since)

- this trend continues with various people he could depend on at the time: his caretaker, some of his foster guardians, sometimes Akemi and Elena when he was in their clinic, and obviously, the zero squad.

- most notably date and hiro because date's massive and gives good hugs and hiro is cuddle size and rei feels safe with them

- blah blah blah, cannon happens, blah blah blah

- hes destroyed everytime each and every one of them got killed, and eventually he would either curl up into a ball after a nightmare having a silent panic attack til morning, or just goes to the closest cuddle buddy he has

- which most of the time is hiro, because hes like the only guy closest to him that hasnt died yet

- on days where he couldnt reach hiro rei would just go to his first cuddle buddy in the middle of the night and she'd hug him to sleep that way

- (she never complains, she has a boyfriend who's in the military and knows what kind of nightmares it gives people)

- (they got engaged and her fiance found out about rei, and was extremely understanding and became another one of his cuddle buddies too)

- (rei feels guilty of course, since hes intruding on their home and personal space, but they honestly dont mind. fiance guy was an only child and never had a sibling, and obvs fiance girl saw him as a sibling.)

- this continues trend continues even in the BO, and surprisingly, Curacao and Kir got added to the cuddle buddy list

- (Vermouth is an honorary member, depending on her mood)

- but rei still sticks with hiro most of the time tho

- (btw he told his now-married cuddle buddies that hes going undercover and he wont be able to reach them for their safety)

- (their worried of course, but rei asked kazami to keep them in the loop and kazami was like, - 'my best boss/friend actually finding a healthy coping mech and has someone to depend on? fuck yeah ofc i would.')

- rye was confused as to why scotch would always worry over bourbon whenever he's away on a mission when bourbon is the guy youd never worry about

- but then rye stumbled upon bourbon hiding in a corner when scotch's not home, eyes wide, shaking and crying silently and it physically pains him to watch it

- so yeah rye is added to the cuddle buddy list but under the emergency only category that featured giant, bold, red letters with underline and italics

- which puts him under even Curacao, Vermouth and Kir but rei actually trusts them to some degree and hes confident he can outrun them for a while

- but rye? the guy that could put a bullet to your head from ten skyscapers away?

- yeah no thanks

- Rei's utterly crushed when hiro offed himself

- look hes smart, he knows that angle the bullet was in couldnt have hit hiro from where ryes standing, but he just lost his best friend and closest cuddle buddy and somebody just happened to be a convient scape goat

- Rei runs to couple cuddle buddies to cry after that, and the two of them plus their 5 year old twins cuddled with Rei in the family convo pit thats converted into a giant pillow fort

- timeskip to current timeline

- the detective boys are added to the cuddle buddy list, so is ai (she has Rei in her list too, cuz they both understood what it feels like (plus theyve made up a long time ago)), masumi and ran (kogoro didnt like it at first and outright kicked our poor boy out when ran hugged him, but got torn into a new one by ran, conan and our cuddle family. added to the list soon after when rei came to find ran but she was away and he couldnt watch this baby-faced kid having a panic attack because hey, dad senses.)

- time skip to a few months later

- rei and akai are basically very reluctant allies (on rei's side) and very much made up besties (on akai's)

- FBI and PSB issued stakeout

- surprise surprise nightmare strikes again

- so rei had no other option but to use akai because he isnt in the mood to have a panic attack til morning, nor could he afford to

- was gonna criticize akai for being a shit cuddler but unfortunately, our tall and thin as a stick boy here was actually on date's-level of comfortness

- so yeah, rei came by to him more often since he's just geographically closest to him, and he knows he cant always bother the mouris or agasa and ai during the night since the kids have school

- akai on the other hand doesnt go to school, even if okiya subaru was required too

- and rei basically moved in every night

- yeah they are practically dating by now

- i mean, rei taking over the cooking since he insisted on thanking akai and would not condem himself to eating okiya subaru's barely edible curry 24/7?

- akai buying extra pillows and blankets for rei since he knows our blondie still gets cold at night?

- rei making coffee for akai in the morning?

- akai dragging a dusty old futon from the kudou's back closet for rei to sleep in, plus washing and cleaning it during the day for him?

- rei having a bag of work clothes over at the kudou mansion since he lives there at night and needs to go to work in the morning?

- akai dognapping haro because he read that dogs get lonely at night if they dont have their owners nearby on reddit and because he knows that rei always worries about the white fluff ball even when he cant think straight?

- them both getting each gifts on holidays and their birthdays?

- eventually cuddling in front of the tv and watching a show or movie together while spooning with a bowl of popcorn in the middle of the night?

- cheek kisses? forehead kisses? hair ruffles? courtesy of akai?

- rei basically cleaning the house from head to toe one night because he deemed akai's sniper nest to be uninhabbitable?

- comfort foods for each other well stocked in the fridge? borrowing the others coats and jackets to sleep in when the other's not home?

- sorry guys youre basically married now.

[yankthoudong]

rubyneo and also rosebirds for the bingo

funny that you asked me for these together because they're 100% thematically linked in my mind

this one has been driving me insane for like 2 weeks now and i did pre-prepare this because if no one asked it i was going to anon it to myself lol. i am almost never an enemies to lovers type of shipper and even when i am it's normally about the potential of moving on for me. NOT here. neo redirects all of her self-hatred and blame onto ruby without ruby having any idea what's going on but directing her hero complex against neo as a stand-in for every other villain she has even less of a chance of beating (and most especially as a stand-in for her own failures that she thinks she's defined by) and they hit this dynamic at JUST the right angle to make me Obsessed. wrt the "only works in a specific AU in my head" bit it may well end up here but for now i am continuing to have the hopium that my Ascension theories will come real (regardless of canon romantic outcome). neo's previous Purpose was revenge against ruby, and she was devoted to it to a degree befitting an Afteran more than a human. so, i think her Ascension will go more like an Afteran's than like ruby's: a version of herself will be given different means and/or ends but with the same target in mind. same as what happened to the red monarch and to the paper pleasers/genial gems. the new neo will have a devotion towards ruby, but to help her bear her burdens rather than adding to them. especially since the Blacksmith seems to have liked ruby a good deal.

sorry i talk about this theory every chance i get lol and i don't think this is my best articulation of it. it's taking up a lot of my headspace and i'm not very confident in my personal ability to make a fic out of it for a few reasons. anyway theyre cute together and i think TATT is kinda hot

raven was hesitant to warm up to summer after a lifetime spent fighting for her next meal but when she does she puts her whole soul into it. she left the family because of her insecurities telling her that she would ruin their kids and that was even more unbearable to her than never seeing summer again. but she kept watch over them, a silent guardian ready to protect if necessary but never letting herself look at them, and leapt at the chance to help summer directly again if only to see her. whatever happened on that mission (my money's currently on salem forcing them to fight each other somehow before grimmifying summer) completely broke raven. she threw herself into the bandit life to try to live with the pain, but there is no true living with an emptiness in your soul. so she keeps watch over yang, and possibly ruby, trying to keep her/them out of oz's war as a kind of final tribute. this is how she can make up for her past wrongs, this is how she can live with herself.

[softquietsteadylove]

Me again! I am once again humbly requesting more of the family law au. Anything you wanna do with the story, I know anything you write will be amazing

Thena looked up as a small body plunked down onto the bench next to her. She looked back at the courtroom door, but the child had appeared from elsewhere. "Hello."

The child sniffled.

She looked around them, but court was in recess, currently. "Where is your guardian?"

The kid shrugged.

She could simply ignore the child. She wasn't a bailiff or authority, she was only in court to close a case of her own, it was signatures in front of the judge. But she recognised the deep hunch in her shoulders and the way her feet kicked idly hanging off the edge of the bench. "I know you have one. Kids aren't allowed to just walk into courtrooms alone."

The kid looked around; she couldn't have been older than twelve. "My parents are talking to a lawyer, but I left."

How did a kid walk out and no one noticed? Thena frowned, "who was watching you?"

"My dad's new wife."

Ah, an unwanted stepmother; Thena angled herself toward the young girl. "Hm, the lawyer speaking with your parents, is he...big?"

She looked up at Thena, her face betraying the vulnerability her body language was trying to hide. "Really big."

Thena couldn't help but smile. There was no more way effective way to describe Gil. "Trust me, he looks scary, but he's actually quite nice."

The girl looked back down at her lap again. "I dunno."

If her parents were speaking with Gil, it was some sort of family issue. Divorce - and to some extent, custody - was her specialty, but Gil handled plenty to do with family settlements and custody issues. He didn't always get to see families on their best day.

Thena rethought her approach. She undid her suit jacket and put her arm up on the back of the bench. "My youngest sister is around your age. She also hates talking."

The girl giggled, just a little. "I don't hate talking."

"Well," Thena paused and shrugged strategically. "Tell me why you're here today."

The kid sighed, seeming even more like Sprite. "My dad's new wife wants us to stay at their new house for his weekends with us. But it's really far away, and they only have one bedroom for me and my sister to share."

As much as she was listening to the child, her mind couldn't help but think that - professionally speaking - it didn't sound suitable for at least one preteen, if not two. "Are you parents discussing this now?--where you and your sister should go, that is?"

She nodded, sniffling again. "They got a little nicer with each other after the divorce. But now all they're doing is yelling again."

Thena bobbed her head slowly to show her understanding. The poor child had been through this already and was now reliving the struggle of an ugly custody hearing. "And do you remember what they were saying?"

The girl made a face, scrunching her small features. "I had to go with my dad's new wife when they started yelling. My sister is still in there, though. They were talking about 'confidence' or something."

So, the sister was older. Even more of a reason that the girls sharing a room would be unfavourable. "Competence--it means they want to know who's the better parent."

She looked up at Thena again, even sadder than before. "I like both my parents. I just don't wanna live an hour away every weekend!"

"Okay, okay, all right, sh," Thena attempted to comfort the girl (which had never been her specialty). She patted her back as the poor thing loudly hiccuped and sniffled up her excess snot. "Can I tell you something?"

Children enjoyed knowing secrets.

The girl nodded.

Thena sighed. It went against all her personal rules against disclosing her personal life, family situation, getting close with people in a professional setting. But she sucked it up, as Sprite would say. "I've had to prove my competence before, when I signed up to take care of my sisters."

"You take care of your sisters?" she asked, although she didn't seem so incredibly astounded.

"One is 16, although it feels like she's turning 20," Thena laughed faintly, and at least the girl smiled. It was the kind of thing a parent would say, much to her dread. But she continued. "I told you the other is around your age, she just turned 13 in the spring."

"How old are you?"

She ignored that question. "I had to prove I could take care of them, like a parent would, although I didn't really know how. But do you know what helped?"

She shook her head.

"Hearing from them," Thena said more gently. It seemed a revelation to the girl that someone might listen to her. "They said they wanted to stay with me. That I would take good care of them, and I swore I would. And I've tried my best, even if I'm not perfect. I get things wrong sometimes, like getting them to school late or forgetting about projects they have."

"What do you do?"

"I try again," she shrugged, and if anything the girl seemed to appreciate her honesty. "Because someone who's going to look after you only wants what's best for you. What's important is if you're safe, and taken care of and comfortable. If you're happy, and doing well in school, or with your friends. The person who's going to take care of you will care about that even if it means you're far away."

Something seemed to dawn on the girl. Although Thena didn't want to sway her opinion any, it would seem her assumption that the husband was not doing his due diligence was correct. Or perhaps the wife was pushing too hard for her new role in his children's lives. Either way, if the girls were best off with their mother, it was more than clear to the client, now.

"Thanks," she smiled at Thena, her shoulders un-hunching faintly. "I'll tell my sister that."

Perhaps the older one could communicate that to the parents. It sounded like the parents were a few precarious steps away from hiring individual lawyers for each of their sides as opposed to using one. But Thena regarded the girl, labelling her 'her client' in her mind. And it was her job to keep her client's best interest at heart.

"There you are!"

Thena looked up, catching Gil jogging over to them. She stood out of habit, holding her coat over her arm. "Mister Gilgamesh."

"Hey," he smiled at her before looking down at the girl. "What's the deal, we turned around and you were gone."

The mother and father immediately began berating the daughter for running off. Thena caught Gil's eye aside from the family. She leaned closer, "my client has some concerns about the pending custody battle."

"Oh," Gil blinked, looking from the girl and back to her. He smiled, showing off the charming and warm temperament that made him so popular, especially with families. "She does, does she?"

They drifted further from the family having their own discussion. Thena eyed Gil, who looked both exhausted and also a whole pot of coffee deep. "How is it?"

He angled himself closer to her and away from the family. "It's getting ugly, and I don't know what I can do to stop it. They're ready to hire their own custody lawyers."

Thena also peeked over at them cautiously. The girl was accepting her berating, although when the father's wife appeared over his shoulder she looked away, taking on a more defensive stance again. She really did remind her of Sprite. "Let the girls talk."

"What?"

She shifted on her feet. It was Gil's case, and she had no real right to get involved, even if it did cross into her expertise. She whispered, "let the girls speak. If nothing else, it should sway the parents enough for them to come to a decision."

Gil made a face, crossing his arms. It pulled his suit jacket to the point of strain; ridiculously thick arms, he had. "Or it could be the drop that makes the dam burst."

Thena shook her head though. "It won't. Those girls know the best place for themselves, and I believe the parents do too. Let the girls state what they want. The parents will respond to their needs and settle."

He gave her a peculiar look, and she couldn't fault him for it. She usually didn't offer personal perspectives on cases. She worked solely and completely on evidence, maybe sometimes on how a judge might regard something. But she didn't give personal opinions. "How do you know?"

Thena looked at the family again. The father patted both his daughters on the shoulder as the bailiff ushered them back to where they had been discussing things during the recess. She looked at Gil. "I just do."

Gil didn't look at the family again. He focused entirely on her, unfolding his arms, slipping his hands into his pockets and raising an eyebrow slightly. But he nodded, "okay."

"That's it?"

He shrugged, furthering the rumpling of his suit, entirely by his own doing. "I trust you. If you say the family will settle, I believe you. I'll ask for the kids to talk."

She smiled, genuinely relieved at the idea of the young girl's feelings being heard. Maybe there was something to how Gil made all of his cases personal. "I think it will be best for everyone."

"So, uh," Gil finally did just barely glance over his shoulder as they started walking back as well. "What'd you say to her?"

Thena pursed her lips. "Not much of anything, truly. The girl is quite competent for her age. All she needs is to be heard."

Gil chuckled.

"What?"

"Nothing," he laughed now, furthering her scrutiny. He shrugged, "you're great with kids, which I guess I should have expected."

"I would not say that."

"You just demonstrated it."

"You didn't see it happen."

"You literally have kids."

"I am not a mother," she argued, and it was true, even as a defense of herself. "She's around Sprite's age, and I recall when Sprite first got into her phase of wanting to shout at the world but not wanting anyone to look at her, either."

"See?" Gil gesticulated with his hand before rolling his shoulders to correct his suit jacket (it did not). "You're a natural."

That was not what the courts thought when she was going through her own proceedings a matter of years ago. But she smiled, giving his poor suit jacket a tug here and there to get it to sit right on him again. Why was he so ridiculously well built for a family lawyer? "Your clients await."

He gave her a more grateful smile as she brushed her hand over his lapel. "Thanks--hey, I'll make sure your client gets her fair say."

She waved him off as he went back to his meeting, and then the proceeding hearing. Technically she didn't have any reason to linger--it wasn't her case. But she sat herself down on the bench outside of the main courtroom doors again, pulling out her phone.

Can I go see that new gangster movie with sersi and her friends?

She would never understand Sprite's obsession with foreign, violent gangster action comedies. But she sighed. She had been poised to say no, that she would pick them up from their free roaming at the mall (which she only allowed them when she had court dates anyway). But she resigned herself to her decision.

That's fine, I'm still at court anyway. But don't stuff yourself on movie snacks, you still have to eat at home

With that, she slipped her phone away again, staring ahead at the elevators opposite her bench of solitude. It was silly to wait. She could ask Gil about it later if she was so concerned. It was inappropriate. It wasn't her case.

Then she would think of how Sprite had tearily asked if she and Sersi would be put in some stranger's house. She would think of that little girl who had sat right down next to her, and she thought of Gil, nervously pacing outside before even she had arrived for her earlier hearing time. He had been poring over this case all week.

Maybe she should do something for him if the case went well--and if it didn't go well, in all honesty.

Thanks thee btw can gil come and cook again it was soooo good

Thena swiped the notification away, decidedly ignoring the leading question. It was nothing but entrapment; as sweet as it was that her sisters had grown a fondness for Gilgamesh, she didn't need them reading too much into her relationship with her colleague.

No matter how amazing his lasagne was, and how often she had thought about it in the past week.