#he was probably one of nicest to Frank I think in the au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

idiopath-fic-smile · 4 years ago

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hey hi I've been trying to write something, anything, and what came out is like 3k of an extremely stupid supervillain/superhero story that I’d been kicking around in some form like over ten years ago. it doesn’t map onto any kind of an AU so I guess it’s original fiction? enjoy?

Cityton Chronicles, part 1

The problem with carrying out an evil scheme, thought Edmund, was the scheme part.

Anyone could nurse a sinister thought or two; it wasn't that hard to shake one's fist at the sky and murmur, “You'll pay for this. With God as my witness, oh, you will pay” and then maybe cackle a little. That much was child's play. (Literal child's play; he had witnessed more than a few dire pronouncements from his classmates at Hawthorne Grimmsbury's Academy for Ominous Boys, especially when recess was threatened.)

Actually going through with a plan was a whole different story. There were logistics to manage. There were people to manipulate, details to babysit, hypotheticals to anticipate. The nitty-gritty, as it were.

Edmund was not destined for the nitty-gritty.

Although, wasn't that what useless people always said? “I'm more of a big-picture person.” Maybe he was useless. Maybe that was the issue. Maybe Edmund Malarkey, heir to Malarkey Industries, was simply not cut out for masterminding.

Case in point, he had a terrible feeling he was about to make a complete hash of the Ritual.

The parameters were clear enough: full moon—check. Chalk for pentagrams—check. One hundred lit candles—check. (Some were scented; the store hadn't had enough plain tapers in stock, but the text of the Ritual had been written well before the notion of pumpkin spice was a cozy twinkle in some godless marketer's eye, and so Edmund figured this would probably not disqualify him.) Thirteen hooded figures, all in black...

This was where things got dicey.

The first sign of the trouble to come was when Carl showed up in navy fucking blue.

Edmund pinched at the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly, breath crystalline in the late November air. The invitations had been so specific.

“It looked pretty dark online,” Carl offered as the wind whipped at them atop the roof of the Cityton Natural History Museum.

“Pretty dark? Pretty dark? Did it look like the blackest black?” said Edmund. “Did it look like Anish Kapur's most haunting nightmare? Did it look like a raven's wing in shadow at the stroke of midnight, Carl?” Carl stuck out his chin. “It's almost black.”

“Yes, and bananas and humans share about sixty percent of their DNA, we're almost cousins,” Edmund told him, dangerously quiet, “but fortunately for you, I'm not going to peel you and eat you in a fruit salad, you buffoonish optimist.”

Edmund should never have relied upon his father's former henchpeople. They were loyal to his father; they looked upon him with bemused tolerance. He should've just gone ahead and recruited all of the necessary twelve people from Craigslist. He'd held off due to a suspicion that anyone he found on the internet would assume the Ritual was fundamentally a weird sex thing, but at least a bunch of kinksters would have probably taken the rules seriously.

He sighed. “Carl, there's a bodega down on the corner. Go buy two black trash bags and make yourself a garbage-robe.” Carl frowned. “Is there time?”

Edmund checked his phone. Eleven fifty-three. “Hurry. And save the receipt.”

Another gust of wind kicked up. Edmund shivered. He'd been smart enough to request a fabric swatch ahead of time from the Etsy store where he'd custom-ordered his own set of hooded black robes. He hadn't stopped to consider how warm—or not—a single layer of said fabric would feel well into autumn, completely unshielded by the elements. Theoretically, he could've crammed a coat under the robes, like a child wearing a Halloween costume in an unseasonably cold October, but no, he hadn't wanted to look bulky.

He checked the candles again, for want of anything better to do.

“Boss,” said a hesitant voice behind him.

“What is it, Stephanie,” said Edmund.

Stephanie had clearly repurposed her teenager's old Hermione costume as her robes, but she had bothered to remove the Hogwarts branding, which was something, at least. Beyond the fact that Edmund didn't feel like giving a repellent transphobe any extra attention, there might have been copyright issues.

“Is that thing about bananas really true?”

“Yeah,” said Edmund. He had read it many years ago, in a book titled 2002 MORE WACKY FACTS TO BLOW YOUR MIND AND AMAZE YOUR FRIENDS, which didn't seem especially pertinent. He did a quick headcount. Even without Carl, they only numbered eleven. “Where's Donna?”

“You should call her,” said Stephanie. “Donna never answers her texts.”

Edmund had been halfway through tapping out a text. Ugh, Boomers. Calling was for emergencies only; everyone knew that. Unfortunately, this qualified. He gritted his teeth and dialed.

Donna answered on the fourth ring. “What?” She sounded groggy.

“Did you,” said Edmund, still through gritted teeth, “forget what night the Ritual was?”

“Oh shit,” mumbled Donna. “Are you sure? I thought it was at noon tomorrow. Carl told me twelve o'clock.”

“At night,” said Edmund. “Twelve o'clock at night, this is a dark incantation to a primordial god, it does not overlap with daytime television.”

Just then, Edmund's phone beeped with another call. “Can you hold, Donna,” he hissed.

“Hey boss,” said Carl, “the bodega only has white or green trash bags, what's my next step?”

“HOLD,” Edmund shouted, switching calls again. “Donna, can you grab an extremely dark-colored robe and be here immediately?”

“Like a bathrobe?” said Donna, sounding lost.

Of course Carl had not bothered to relay the dress code. Of course he hadn't even managed to hand her the painstakingly crafted invitation. Edmund had used the nicest card stock available to him, not that it mattered.

“Uh, boss?” Leroy called over the roar of the wind. Edmund flexed his stiffening fingers.

“One second, Donna,” said Edmund.

“How much longer is this gonna be?” said Leroy. “Because I was gonna catch the late show tonight—”

“Watch it on YouTube the next day like a normal person!” Edmund snapped. “Donna—”

“I can be there by 12:40,” said Donna through the tinny phone speaker. “There's some errands I wanna run first.”

“It's the middle of the night, what errands!” said Edmund. “Donna, hold—” He switched back to Carl. “Listen, are you sure there aren't any black trash bags?”

“White or green only,” Carl affirmed. “Some of them are scented, do you think that would make a difference?”

“Boss,” said Frank from the other side of the roof, “we lost the chalk?”

“Hold on, Carl,” said Edmund. “What?”

“It was here a second ago!” “Did you secure the chalk against the wind?”

“What?” said Frank.

“The chalk, it's cylindrical!” Edmund managed to shout. “Did you do anything so it wouldn't just roll straight off the roof?”

Somewhere above the din of wind came the sound of a half dozen pieces of sidewalk chalk landing on the street five stories below and shattering.

Edmund buried his (cold) face in his (frozen) hands.

“Uh boss,” said Stephanie. “It's 12:01.”

Edmund sighed. The primordial god K'h'gg'ragel might have allowed for some creative interpretations on Ritual-adjacent matters, but everyone knew K'h'gg'ragel was a stickler for punctuality.

“Alright,” said Edmund, pitching his voice to carry. “Pack it in, we'll try again next full moon.”

“Phew,” said Leroy, who was wearing a thick downy jacket over his robes, and a hat with earflaps, and mittens. “It's cold out.”

“I FOUND A BLUE ONE!” Carl shouted from the speaker. “IS THAT ANY BETTER?”

Edmund turned his phone off.

Lighting and strategically placing one hundred candles had been something of an undertaking. Blowing them all out alone and stuffing them back into a series of duffel bags was somehow worse. Edmund was about half-done when he heard a distinct whirring buzz. He looked up.

It was Dragonfly. Of course it was Dragonfly, heading right for him.

Great. Edmund's first-ever showdown was going to be a one-on-one against a superhero armed with a jetpack, one hell of a punch, and electrified darts. Edmund was going to get flattened, and all before he even got the chance to point out that the darts and for that matter the punching didn't fit with the overall insect theme.

“Hey man,” said Dragonfly, dropping effortlessly down to the roof of the museum. “I saw the lights from the sky, thought I'd investigate.”

They weren't fighting yet. Why weren't they fighting? Edmund's whole body fizzed with adrenaline. Also, cold. Either way, he was shaking a little, and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“And what, strike another heroic blow against the terror that is a bunch of sweater-themed Yankee Candles?” said Edmund.

Dragonfly shrugged. His costume included a bottle-green moto jacket and gloves. It looked warm, in a way that made Edmund feel even colder. “Sweater candles? What, like burning wool?” he said.

Privately, Edmund had wondered about that too. This, he decided obscurely, was another strike against Dragonfly.

“Maybe burning wool smells phenomenal,” said Edmund instead, rocking forward. “There's no way you could possibly know, unless you're here to tell me you've lit a sheep on fire, which seems well outside your whole—” he waved his hands vaguely “—moral compass.”

“Word travels fast,” said Dragonfly gravely. “I am foursquare against sheep-burning. Always have been.”

Edmund squared his shoulders. “So, are we doing this, or what?”

From behind his signature oversized goggles, Dragonfly's brow seemed to furrow slightly. “Doing what?”

“Fighting,” said Edmund. He had to grind his teeth together to keep them from chattering.

“Ah,” said Dragonfly after a pause. “Oh. Um. Okay. Here's the thing?” He steepled his fingers. “You seem unarmed. You're not hurting anyone. You're also not committing any crimes.” Edmund opened his mouth to protest, and Dragonfly continued, “Or, okay, you're trespassing on the museum, I guess, technically, but it's not like you're even trying to sneak into an exhibit without paying.”

“I am here,” said Edmund firmly, “to perform a terrible and arcane Ritual which will summon—”

“Yeah?” said Dragonfly. “Where's your followers? Where's your summoning chalk? It's well past midnight and the only sign of any occult activity I can see is the candles, but for all I know, you were just up here trying to have a little me-time, which, like, on some level I get, you know?”

“So,” said Edmund blankly, “what now?” He had given up on trying to tense his jaw. His upper and lower teeth clacked rhythmically against each other.

“I give you a stern verbal warning about what's probably a minor fire hazard and recommend that you enjoy the museum from the inside, during business hours, with a ticket,” said Dragonfly. “I hear they have a great exhibit on prehistoric mammals. In the meantime, get somewhere warm, okay? Your lips are turning blue.” “Fuck off,” Edmund more or less managed to say through his shivers.

Dragonfly spread his hands, placating. “Fair enough.” He began to walk away. At the edge of the roof, he hesitated. “Uh, do you have a way down?”

“Obviously,” said Edmund.

“Yeah,” said Dragonfly. “Uh, okay.” They regarded each other. “What is it?” said Dragonfly after a few seconds.

Edmund froze. Or well, he was already half-frozen. Edmund stopped moving, was the point.

Apparently interpreting Edmund's silence as helplessness, Dragonfly offered dubiously, “I could carry you down?”

“How,” said Edmund, flat. It was the wrong thing to say, in that it wasn't 'No,' or 'Fuck off' again, something sensible like that, but damn it, he was freezing, and if he gave up the way he'd gotten everyone onto the roof, then this whole fucking evening was going to be a wash. He had tried so hard. It wasn't fair.

Dragonfly took a step closer. “Fireman or bridal?”

Edmund tried and failed to parse this three separate times in his cold-fuzzed brain. “Is that a meme?” he settled on finally.

“Do you,” said Dragonfly, “have a preference on how I carry you.”

“We haven't even established that you're going to,” Edmund said. Clackity clackity clack went his traitorous teeth.

Dragonfly sighed. “I can't leave you up here,” he said. “One, if I let you keep hanging out on the roof of the history museum, then technically I'm kinda aiding and abetting your whole trespassing situation. Two, it is really fucking chilly up here, and if you freeze to death, then that's on me. Which is also not, like, great for my conscience.”

“So I don't have a choice,” Edmund spat.

“You totally have a choice,” said Dragonfly. He tilted his head to the side. “Hell, you could do me a solid and just exit using whatever secret method you entered with, but I have a feeling mum's the word on that particular angle.”

This Dragonfly character was smarter than he looked. Of course, he was a grown man who fought crime dressed as a giant insect. The bar was not particularly high.

“Mum's the word?” Edmund echoed. “What are you, ninety?”

“I'm an old fucking soul, dude,” said Dragonfly. “Point being, you don't trust me not to watch you leave the roof. Which is hurtful, frankly. I'm not sure I trust you not to stay up here out of pure stubbornness. If I give you a quick boost down, then it's problem solved and we can both go about our nights. Crime-fighting for me, and for you hopefully a pile of blankets and whatever warm food rich people eat. Mashed potatoes? With...caviar?”

This clearly did not merit a response. Dragonfly knew who Edmund was, apparently. Most people did.

“What if you drop me?” said Edmund.

Dragonfly laughed. He had a nice laugh. It was yet another point against him, somehow. “Don't you think that might go against my whole—” he gestured with both hands “moral compass?”

Edmund recognized his own words being used against him. On the other hand, the thought of a hot meal and, moreover, central heating beckoned.

“I don't care,” Edmund said at last.

“What?” said Dragonfly.

“Bridal or fireman's carry,” said Edmund. “I don't care.”

Dragonfly nodded sagely. “Let's get this over with, then,” he said. “Hey, d’you want help with your candles?”

Did he? He didn't want to want help with his candles, but that was another question. On the other hand, if Edmund accepted Dragonfly's aid, it would shave off valuable minutes of this excruciating headache. The backs of Edmund's knees were cold. It was absurd.

“Fine,” said Edmund.

“Huh,” said Dragonfly several minutes later. “This one's rain-scented, and this one's Ocean Spray, and yet they smell nothing alike.”

Dragonfly had without fail commented on every single scented candle in the bunch. Edmund looked up from his umpteenth taper candle, momentarily distracted from the knifelike chill.

“Rain and ocean are two completely different things,” said Edmund. “The surrounding environment, the vibe, the salt content.”

“The vibe, I grant you,” said Dragonfly. “But salt, really? Have you ever smelled salt before?”

“The ocean has a smell,” Edmund insisted. His family had summered on the coast every year before—well. Before last year. He mostly remembered the sea as having a whiff of fish about it, which didn't sound promising for a candle, but it was the principle of the thing.

Dragonfly shrugged. “You've got me there,” he said. “Never been.” Cityton was only about an hour's drive from the beach. Edmund wasn't sure he knew anyone who had never visited at least once, for a long weekend at least. Of course, it wasn't like Edmund knew Dragonfly. He didn't even know what Dragonfly's eyes looked like.

Edmund blew out another few tapers.

“This one's just called Singing Carols,” Dragonfly announced. “Guess what it smells like, I dare you.”

And so on.

In the end, Dragonfly carried Edmund off the roof of the Natural History Museum scooped under the armpits, the way you might hold a cat if you were engaging in some light cat-related horseplay. The mechanical dragonfly wings were well-made, Edmund could admit that much; Dragonfly didn't seem to have any issue bearing Edmund's weight or the combined weight of the candles, and their feet gently touched the ground after only a few seconds. It was already slightly warmer—or at least slightly less freezing—on street-level.

Dragonfly let go and stepped back immediately. This close, Edmund could see that his lips were pretty badly chapped. It made sense that someone who donated all their time to—again—flitting around town trying to right every minuscule so-called wrong while dressed like a bug wouldn't be experienced enough with self-care to be acquainted with a good lip balm, but the thought made Edmund weirdly a little sad.

His sense of deeply ingrained politeness warred against the equally powerful urge to be a real bastard about the whole thing. In the end, politeness won out, by the very skin of its mannerly little teeth.

“Thank you for not dropping me to my almost certain death,” Edmund gritted out with extreme reluctance. He stared over Dragonfly's shoulder as he said it.

Nevertheless, for some awful reason, for just that moment, it felt a little like the end of a date.

“Right,” said Dragonfly. “Right. Well then. Happy trails.” He seemed to consider this. “Or you know, if doing crimes is what makes you happy, then for the sake of Cityton, let's say, mediocre trails. Do you wanna borrow my gloves?”

“Why,” said Edmund flatly.

Even though the goggles completely obscured much of the upper half of Dragonfly's face, Edmund had the distinct sense that a disbelieving stare was being leveled at him.

“For your hands? You know, the traditional office of gloves?”

As the scion of Malarkey Industries, Edmund was long accustomed to being hated for who he was. Hated, feared, not-too-secretly envied. And lately: mocked, dismissed, his family name transmuted into a juicy, low-hanging punchline for lazy late night writers.

He wasn't sure he'd ever been pitied before. It did not sit well.

“I'll warm my hands on the fires of hell while I plot your demise, you miserable fool,” growled Edmund.

“Yikes,” said Dragonfly easily. “Well, I'm off.” And with that, he took to the sky.

Edmund curled his fingers into the sleeves of his stupid, summer-weight summoner's robes and started back towards what remained of his home.

#original fiction #cityton chronicles #I'm sure that in some obscure way the fact that I'm thinking about this now is due to mainlining The Untamed #but this is definitely. not that.#warning for an extremely brief mention of transphobia that the main character condemns #also apparently there is a dragonfly-themed superhero in a 2008 superhero spoof movie?#let's say that movie exists in this world too and Dragonfly has taken a lot of shit for it #that sounds about right

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sofia-not-sophie · 4 years ago

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Percy Jackson: God of Demigods

Chapter 5

Tagging: @littlemisscupcake @tayquin04 lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist also see the link in my pinned post for all of my taglists

Text under cut; you can search my blog for #god!percy au Or #chapter [number] for the rest of the text here or see it all in the Ao3 links above

Tw: character death, albeit temporary

After I found Frank and had cleaned up, I was given a new purple Camp Jupiter shirt. I didn’t throw out the old tattered orange one though, it felt wrong throwing it away.

Soon we had to go form ranks as a part of the camp’s routine. Everyone fell in line in full battle gear and then the officers did role call. Hazel and her brother were almost late, arriving just in time for her name to be called.

After I was assigned to the fifth cohort, thanks to Hazel, I was given a probatio tablet that I put on the necklace with the clay beads. Then the legion disassembled and we had dinner.

Nico, Hazel, Frank, and I sat on a couch at the back of the mess hall, with one of the fifth cohort’s centurions, Dakota. I got a cheeseburger and some bright blue soda. I had no clue what prompted the soda, but when I tasted it it was pretty much like one of the diet cokes i stole on the way here, but blue.

Hazel explained how the war games would work, our cohort was one of the offensive ones. She said we were usually sent at the defensive wall first because apparently the other cohorts hated us for loosing the eagle standard a few generations ago. Frank was in the middle of explaining a few of the formations when a faun Hazel and I had encountered earlier came up and asked if he could eat my plate.

“Go away Don.” Nico said.

“No wait, I smell something.” He then started sniffing my hair, I did my best to try and bat him away, “You have an empathy link.”

“A what?” I asked.

“You have an empathy link with a faun. They’re very rare.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

One of the Lares, Vitellius, came over and got angry at Don for being in the dining hall. I knew the fauns weren’t exactly the nicest beings, they mostly seemed greedy, but I hadn’t had much of a problem with Don, other than him smelling my hair.

Eventually Nico got fed up and dragged the two off.

“That was... interesting. Does this happen all the time?”

“The fauns versus Lares thing happens pretty regularly. At least once a week.” Frank said, “The Don smelling people’s hair thing is new.”

“Of course it is.” I sighed, it seemed everything I did at this camp was unusual.

After dinner we got up and headed out to the field of Mars. We stood in formation, just as before, complete with our armor. When I went to put it on something about the process felt familiar and I knew just where to tie the straps.

I stood next to Frank awaiting orders, when he whispered to me “Percy? Could you meet me after the war games? We should talk.”

“About what?”

He didn’t get a chance to answer because just then Dakota and Gwendolyn, our other centurion, gave out orders for the initial attack. They basically stuck Hazel and Frank with me to show me the ropes.

“I doubt we’ll last long.” Hazel sighed, “There’s no getting past those water canons easily.”

“Did you say water canons?” I asked, “Cause I think I could probably take care of those, I’d just need to be closer I think.”

“Hazel, could you find a tunnel for us?” Frank asked, “I think I have a way to get us over the wall if those water canons are out of the way.”

She nodded, walked around for a second and then the ground opened up in front of her. “Let’s go.”

I dropped down into the tunnel and took off the cap to my pen-sword. It glowed with enough light for us to see once Hazel closed up the tunnel. We walked for a few minutes, hearing the occasional thud, likely from Hannibal the elephant, a truly ironic name from what little I knew about Roman military history from Lupa.

“Here,” Hazel stopped suddenly, “They won’t see us right away, and we can’t tunnel any further because they built the fort on underground foundations.”

She opened a hole in the ceiling and we climbed out. Immediately I directed my attention to the water cannons. I did my best to tune out the rest of the battle, I still wasn’t sure how my water powers worked exactly, so activating them might be a challenge. I had just felt like I had gotten it when Frank yelled “Percy! Anytime now!”

BOOM!

I felt a tug in my wrists and my stomach and the canons exploded, pushing back the guards on the fortress walls.

“Come on!” Frank called to me and Hazel, he began to climb a rope ladder dangling from an arrow he had presumably shot himself.

I climbed up after him, Hazel close behind me. Once we were up there, I’m not sure if the Romans knew what to make of me because I cut through the defenses pretty quickly. While I kept them busy Hazel and Frank went ahead to get the flags.

Something about this reminded me of somewhere, like I had played something like this before. Except less formal. An image of trees and a river and a flash of blue light surfaced in my memory, but when I went to retrieve the whole memories they vanished as if they were waves upon a shore.

Frank came out of the fort, banner in hand. We climbed down and out from behind the defensive wall, the rest of the fifth cohort joined us to celebrate. Except that celebration didn’t last long because the camp healers found Gwendolyn. She had been stabbed in the back with a spear.

The legion went silent as the healers tried to help, but it was too late.

I could almost tell the exact second it happened, I feeling something in my gut lurch.

Reyna was just announcing an investigation into finding her killer, when her eyes fluttered open.

“Gwen, can you tell us what just happened?” One of the healers asked.

“I’m not sure. There was a river, and someone asked me to pay a toll. But there was a door open behind me, so I left.”

The other healers moved to take the spear from her chest. As soon as it was gone her skin healed up almost instantly.

Reyna looked like she was about to say something when an eight foot tall man materialized behind the legion. He was dressed like a modern army soldier and had a large gun strapped to his back.

Everyone turned to see who it was, and immediately kneeled. For some reason I didn’t, something in my head told me I was angry at this person, this god, and also that I had no reason to kneel before him anyways.

“What in Hades are you doing here?” I blurted before he could speak.

He gave me a once over, as if deciding something about me, “You’ll want to mind your manners before you speak to me like that.”

“As if I haven’t beaten you in a fight before.”

“I don’t recall ever seeing you, though from the looks of you I probably should have. Anyways, let’s start this thing over.” I decided not to test him further, sure I hadn’t gotten injuries so far, and somewhere in my brain I knew I had beaten this god in a fight, but I didn’t want to push him or myself too far.

“Hello Romans! It is I, Mars! I was sent here as a messenger of sorts because you all tend to like me best. Anyway, your friend there, should be dead. But she’s not because Letus has been captured in the land beyond the gods. You could probably tell, as monsters are much harder to kill now and don’t stay dead.”

Next to me I felt Hazel shift uncomfortably.

“I was sent to order a quest to rescue him by the Feast of Fortuna. Apollo said that there’s gonna be something bad happening that day, and Letus will need to be free by then.”

“But Lord Mars! We need a prophecy to do that!” Octavian said, standing up, “I’d need to prepare a whole case of stuffed animals to get a prophecy for a quest.”

“You want to question my word augur? Or perhaps maybe your ancestor’s word, after all Apollo did approve this quest already.”

Octavian looked at his feet.

“That’s what I thought. Oh, the rest of you may rise now. Before I go I’ve got one more matter of business to attend to. Frank Zhang please come over here.”

I watched as Frank seemed to move on autopilot, his eyes widened.

“You did well tonight kid! First over the wall, I wouldn’t expect anything less from my son. Who was the ref for this game?”

Frank looked like he was about to faint.

“I was Lord Mars sir.” Reyna said.

“You saw what he did right? Make sure he gets the mural crown.”

“Yes Lord Mars.”

“Thanks to that, he’s gonna be in charge of this quest. Now I don’t care who the third member is, so long as he also takes Mr. Insolence over there. Now kid,” he turned to Frank, “Have you learned to use your mother’s power yet?”

“Uh... no.”

“You’ll need to get on that. Until then, take this.” He unstrapped the gun from his back and a slowly turned into a spear, “You’ll only have three charges, so you better learn fast.”

He passed the spear to Frank who gave his thanks. “Avert your eyes.”

I watched as the rest of the legion turned to face away and cover their eyes. I didn’t I was too busy thinking he meant more than just discipline when he said I had a lot to learn. I watched as he revealed his divine form and disappeared, just like Juno had.

Once Ares or Mars or whatever you wanna call him disappeared, the legion was dismissed by Reyna.

I went to catch up to Frank, he was still a bit dazed I think. He had said he hadn’t know who his dad was earlier, apparently now he did.

“Hey.” I did my best to look cheerful, despite feeling about ready to keel over from exhaustion.

“Hey.”

“You said you wanted to talk?”

“Oh. Right. Follow me back to the barracks. You and I’ll be sharing a bunk cause we’re the two new guys. We can talk there.”

We walked in silence to the fifth cohort barracks, no one else was quite ready to head in for the night yet so we were alone.

“You can have the top bunk, I normally sleep on the bottom, easier to flop into after a hard day’s work.”

I grabbed my bag which I had ditched here just before dinner, and flung it onto the top bunk. I looked over and Frank had pulled two vials of red shimmering liquid from underneath his pillow.

“These should be yours. They’re gorgon’s blood, a trophy of sorts, one from the left, the other from the right.”

“One deadly the other a cure. Can you tell which is which?” As soon as I said it, a feeling passed over me, I could almost tell that the one in Frank’s right hand would kill him.

“No, as far as I can tell, they’re identical.”

“Can I hold them?” As soon as he passed them to me I could no longer tell which one was deadly, I mean I knew from how he had handed them to me but that weird feeling was gone, “Huh.”

“What?”

I thought up a quick lie “I wonder, I mean, if we figured it out, maybe the cure all could help my memory. Not that I’d use it now. Juno said my memories would return, so I’d probably not use it until after the quest, just in case. But still...”

Just then people started filtering into the barracks, taking off their armor and getting ready for bed. I quickly set the vials on my bunk and started unstrapping my armor.

I was given a spare set of pajamas from one of the other guys who was about my size. I put them on and climbed into my bunk. I was soon out like a light.

I had a strange dream that night. Normally I didn’t really dream at all, or at least from what I could tell from my month and a half of memory, but that night I actually had a dream.

I was on a boat, nothing big, like a personal speedboat, and in the mist coming off the wake of the boat a faun’s face appeared.

“Percy? Percy?” I moved closer and got a better look, “Thank the gods! I’ve trying to contact you for months, and Nico hasn’t come back with news.”

“Who are you?” I asked, apparently this faun knew Nico, and he seemed to know me, which meant I did know Nico, from... somewhere.

Before he could answer, the scene changed. I was in the water and a blonde girl with a Yankees cap, Annabeth my brain supplied, leaned over the dock, reaching for me.

“Percy? Can you hear me?”

I nodded.

“Stay where you are, we’ve got Tyson and Nico looking for you, though we’re pretty sure Tyson’s closest. But STAY THERE, Seaweed-Brain. We should be coming to get you soon.”

“Who’s Tyson? And where are you? And why did your call me Seaweed-Brain?”

The signal, or whatever you want to call it started to cut out, the next thing she said was hard for me to hear, but after that I could make out three words “I love you.”

I woke up.

#riordanverse #percy jackson #pjo #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #heroes of olympus #hoo #nico di angelo #grover underwood #hazel levesque #annabeth chase #frank zhang #camp jupiter #camp half blood #percabeth #chapter 5 #god!percy au #appie is a writer!

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weirdagnes · 4 years ago

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💄RUDOLF’S DRAG RACE AU 🏁

ALRIGHT SO this AU originally started in our Yeah We Outlasting discord server, artists started drawing the characters in drag and I WOKE HMSHD real shit man. So I'm making a masterpost for drag au on behalf of the server✊✊

Outlast 1 = Season 1

Outlast 2 = Season 2

Whistleblower DLC = All Stars

All of the characters and ideas for the characters were written in collab with @gothivican, @panopt1c0n, @grahaam and the rest of the lads in the server, y’all have such beautiful brains. So anyways.

Here are the judges:

Rudolf Wernicke. Lowkey bias, literally goes to the backstage and tells Miles to beat Billy Hope in a lipsync because Billy can't continue on the show for some reason. Has favoritism towards Blaire, but was forced to sashay him away by the other two judges. Also this bitch is dying, literally has a breathing tank support behind his chair.

Pauline Glick. A very sharp critic. Wore the same shoes? Call out. Oh that's your signature makeup? UGLY tone it down. Sorry, the colors don't match, you'll be in the bottom two for that.

Paul Marion. The kindest judge. He will give constructive criticism in the nicest non-offensive way possible and compliment them after (because he would feel guilty about it).

Alice as guest star. Supportive as f u c k, huge fan, she cries when meeting the queens in Untucked. She can't help complimenting the queens every 10 seconds, she gives off the Leslie Jones’ enthusiasm.

Lisa Park as guest star. Like Alice, very supportive. She’s an artist, and will break down all the reasons why they are so good from an artist’s perspective. Crushes HARD on Wyssle Blower, she might’ve given her number after the show.

Lynn Langermann as guest star. She’s a judge, and she will judge. Gives out well constructed criticisms to all queens fair and square until she saw Angel Fromm (Blake) and just says “Wow what’s there to criticize?” Sallyzekiel hates her, Valentina and Angel on the other hand loves her very much.

Here are the queens:

Miles Upshur as Kill-O-Meter. Primarily an insult comedy and rocker queen, and specializes in dancing. She tends to be criticized for a lack of glamour on some of her main stage looks, and is one of the most dramatic, sarcastic and shady queens of the bunch. Can and will stomp on you in latex boots for money. Besties with Wyssle and Chrisel, gets into a little heated talks with (occasionally) Peacock, (frequently) Ricky and Remy. She adores Cheets’ (Pyro) makeup skills. Winner of season 1 babey!!

Chris Walker as Piggy Chrisel. A punk/grunge queen who seems to specialize moreso in dancing and lip syncing. She's a shy, gentle giant, has a little trouble speaking coherently and it affects her in the acting/impromptu comedy challenges. She will call out whores though, she will kick ass when the situation calls for it. Really good at makeup, makeup girl-friends with Cheeto and besties with Kill O Meter (Latrila vibes). Also a perfectionist and hates mess on her work table.

Rick Trager as Ricky Trix. Whore, that's all. This bitch OBNOXIOUS and shady but she's both a glamour AND comedy queen, the other queens are watching out for her since day one. Horror and '80s inspired queen, extremely good at comedy and acting and will literally stomp the competition with nearly perfect impressions and extremely expressive acting. The downfall for her seems to be glam on the occasion and singing. Rivals with Kill O Meter and Miss Tini, kikis with Remy (they throw shade to other queens the moment they get em)

Father Martin as Miss Tini. The oldest queen but she can still serve the cakes. Generally a kind person, coming from a religious background. She’s takes the drag culture religiously. She gets along with The Twinks.

The Twins as The Twinks. Was recruited as two totally separate queens, but both quit on the first episode when one of the twins were to be eliminated. The queens tell the Twinks apart by who’s bald and who’s not. They don’t vibe with other queens except Miss Tini.

Pyromaniac as Cheeto de LaFlammeo. Queen of Makeup, she has some serious skill range on it. Good in the acting department, always plays as the tragic character. Was rivals with Kill-O Meter before, but one time when she had a breakdown, Kill-O Meter was by her side when no one was. After that, they respected each other.

Billy Hope as Billy Willy. CLOWN QUEEN, huge Crystal Methyd vibes. She’s the youngest queen, very energetic, a ball of SUNSHINE but Wernicke was a bias bitch and sent her home immediately the moment she was in the bottom. She was basically Kill-O Meter and Wyssle Blower's drag child. Hailed as Miss Congeniality, is voted by majority to return for a season 2 for going home a little too early than people feel was deserved. Best at makeup and outfits, her mom Tiffany taught her to sew and make dresses out of rags and other unconventional materials and the skill proved to be helpful. Also she likes puns and everyone likes playing with her name like: Silly Billy Willy, Witty Billy Willy, etc.

....

Waylon Park as Wyssle Blower. The Mom of the queens, the most well rounded queen, and the most 'fishy' one. Probably the smartest and most humble one out of everyone, she can read through people’s bullshit well. Genuinely looks like a girl in full drag, but always does her best on acting. She's serving you a cute, nerdy and quirky style, but can serve horror when need be. Always wins the mini challenges, she's not as loud as the other girls but she does beat Blaire in a lip sync (lowkey badass lipsyncer). Winner of All Stars babey

Jeremy Blaire as Remy Coco Ainée. Pretentious fake ass queen, even her drag name is just Cocaine in fake French. A pure fashion glamour queen, she serves it at almost all the fashion challenges but there's no more personality out of her other than that and her shady attitude (she will not hold back on the shade). Is extremely horrible at singing (her voice cracks) and acting, goes home against a lip sync with Wyssle. This bitch will FLEX her wins. Kikis with Ricky, mainly rivals with Kill O Meter, Wyssle and Peacock but she made everyone her rivals bc of her bitchass attitude.

Eddie Gluskin as Edna Taylor. Fashion queen, specializes in sewing, acting and singing, but is extremely lacking in the dancing department. Has a one-sided endearment for Waylon, and consistently tries to have her attention. Is extremely manipulative too, trying to consistently trip the other queens up. Also everybody hates her mohawk signature wig but nobody says anything about it because they don’t want to be victim to Edna’s mind games.

Frank Manera as Hanni Canni Bahl. Horror queen, best at comedy and dancing. Though it is prohibited, she’s able to sneak in weed, coke (for Ricky) and snacks in the werk room. Very messy when working, her discarded fabrics are EVERYWHERE and Chrisel is fighting the urge to clean it up. She eats while working when the camera’s off, and it stains the dress she’s working on (Pauline notices it).

Dennis as Denise. Mocked as “Edna’s little helper” as she always helps with her dresses. She’s trying too hard to impress Edna, and helps her get Wyssle’s attention. Very talented in acting and sewing, but bland in fashion, lacking in concept. Her inner conflict is what got her eliminated.

Simon Peacock as Julie Peacock. Rebellious, mischievous, and an ex-glam queen gone horror and campy instead. After being insulted much by glam queens (ahemRemyahem), she just embraced it and became a horror queen, serving the judges her horror aesthetic. Best at comedy, lacks extremely on acting and dancing though. No one is safe from her constructive criticism, and she will never stop ranting to Kill O Meter and Wyssle about Remy and Ricky being bad bitches and favored by Wernicke, she thinks it's unfair.

....

Blake Langermann as Angel Fromm. Singing queen!! Good at singing, but otherwise is moreso well-rounded, she might've been eliminated earlier, hadn't it been for her also low-key successful and iconic lip syncs. But the lucky winning streak didn't last forever, she goes home later in the season because she's slowly falling behind the other queens and can't keep up anymore. Has Rococo aesthetic, unfortunately the outfits can't make up for the lack of character as a queen. Though she needs a lot of improvement, the guest star Lynn adores her very much.

Val as Valentina. Queen of SEX or moreso impersonations and comedy. She’s a terrible tailor, but likes unconventional and simple fashion designs. She’s trans and lowkey Pauline has a crush on her the moment she walked on that stage. Pure rivals with Sallyzekiel, you know that iconic Aja vs. Valentina in Untucked? They had that moment. Probably goes home earlier, not entirely prepared, but still was a season icon. Definitely dropped it low about 10 times on her lip sync.

Marta as ImMartal. GOTH QUEEN, survived about early mid season. Best at her makeup and looks, glam queen, but the judges criticize her for wearing the same wigs/having the same hairstyle for almost every looks.

Nick Tremblay as Nicky Lanterns. Another gentle giant. Very introverted, she has a difficult time socializing with other girls because she’s generally not a very loud person. Really bad at makeup, her fashion sense is somewhat okay but it’s always on the ‘safe’ level. Pretty good at slapstick comedy, writing and concepts tho. It’s a wonder how Nicky and Lard Imp became “friends,” they’re complete opposites.

Laird Byron as Lard Imp. Whore, Exhibit B. Extremely rude, louder than Remy and Ricky themselves, and has a weird love/hate obsession with Angel for some reason. Everyone hates her, even Rudolf himself, and Lard Imp isn’t her original drag name but ultimately they came to a point where they just called her Lard Imp. Constantly denies the judges’ and the queens’ critiques, very delusional about winning the season and that’s why she’s the first one eliminated.

Sullivan Knoth as Sallyzekiel. The Big Bad Bitch of the season. Ultimate rivals with Valentina, constantly bullies Angel. Marta used to be friends with her, but after talking shit on Valentina, she says fuck you and defended Val. Glam queen, has an affinity for shoes but damn girl terrible makeup and padding. Really good with speech, acting and impromptu.

So far, here are the character designs we have made!

(1) Blake and Trager by @/pan0pt1con

(1, 2, 3, 4, 5) Waylon, Chris, Simon, Eddie, Miles and Jeremy by @/gothivican

(1) Billy, Miles, Chris, Wernicke, Pauline, Paul and Alice by @/weirdagnes

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snowyfrostshadows · 4 years ago

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Hyacinths

Grif tracks Donut down and some much needed words are shared.

Slight AU from s17 in which characters actually talk to each other like actual human beings who’ve known each other for years and not. ‘Well, it’s just a dumb web show, character relationships, what’s that?’

"You honestly think nobody in our stupid group likes you?"

Donut slowly turned to face Grif, surprised to see him again so soon after everyone had left again. The surprise quickly swings back to anger though. With as much shit he's been through over the last....fifty? Seventy tries, he's done. The last thing he needs is another empty apology or salt rubbed in the emotional wound of his 'friends' not caring.

"I'm not stupid. I-"

"Clearly you are since you're really going to hold on to that dumbass idea."

There's an unreadable expression on Grif's face. If Donut had to wager a guess, he'd say disbelief, maybe something else, but he can't quite put his finger on it.

"No one likes you." Grif scoffs. "Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds? Or are you that oblivious to Sarge letting you do whatever the fuck you want? Or Simmons hovering near you like a fucking worried mother now and again because he still has nightmares over Wash shooting you? Fuck! Are you seriously trying to tell me that Caboose. Fucking Caboose. 'Best Friend to Everyone' doesn't like you?!"

Realization at the unknown emotion from Grif slams into him with the weight of a hammer.

He's angry.

But not the angry Donut's used to. Where he snaps a meaner than usual comment or frowns a bit deeper than normal. This anger has Grif moving. His hands are moving, whether they're gesturing to help with a point or fidgeting by his side like Grif, of all people, has too much energy.

Donut unconsciously takes a step back, unnerved by this suddenly Not-Lazy Grif. "No one listens to me." Even as the words leaves his lips, he knows it's a weak argument.

"No one listens to each other!" Grif shoots back. "Do you really think it takes us so long to get anything done is because we listen to anyone but you?"

Grif glares at him for a moment before something...breaks in his expression.

"Fuck." He mutters quietly to himself before focusing on Donut again, all fight, all anger gone. Like it's just been sucked out of him.

"I don't... I didn't mean to come here and yell at you. If you need time to yourself to regroup or just... think. Go for it. Just... don't go it alone for too long. Being by yourself sucks."

There's a surprisingly haunted look in Grif's eyes as he says that and Donut considers dropping it right there. But then he remembers how Grif quit the team(s) not that long ago and now that he's really thinking about it, how different Grif was when he came back. How different he sometimes seems now.

"...Do you...want to talk about it?"

"No."

Donut frowns and tries a different tactic "Then I don't see the problem with being alone for a few months. Sides, I don't know why you'd care if I go isolate myself." The carefully nonchalant shrug he throws Grif might be pushing it, but, Grif has for most of the conversation here, been throwing him off a bit.

He's still mad at everyone, Grif included, but this is the most expressive he's ever seen his teammate. And personal feelings aside, it's kind of... worrying.

Grif's expression tightens minutely

"No offense, but you can't afford to lose any more marbles doing that to yourself." Grif snarks before shifting uncomfortably. "Of course I care. Do you really think I'd be wasting my breath if I didn't?"

Donut shrugs "Maybe? I mean, there's more work for you to do if I'm not around to help right?"

Grif sighs and looks upwards for a moment before dragging his gaze back towards him.

"I'm only going to say this once because apparently you're either too stupid or too full of self-pity or both to get this through your thick skull but god yes I care. We all do, you over-dramatic numb-skull. We wouldn't have put up with all your weird-ass comments over the years if we didn't."

He wants to hold on to all of his anger and justified indignation.

He knows he deserves better than these assholes he calls friends because dammit, he's a person and has always done his level best to be kind and friendly and helpful.

But that is the nicest thing he has ever heard Grif say.

"Do you mean that?"

"For the love of-yes! If I knew you'd be this daft, I'd have recorded myself on an audio file and chucked it at you and let you listen to it until it sunk through your thick skull!"

Donut pushes down a grin. He's already decided he forgives Grif (and maybe the others; but they're still on thin fucking ice) but he is, above all, still a fairly petty person himself even if he's nice most of the time.

"I dunno... it's kinda hard to believe...but maybe a hug might convince me..."

Grif's eyes narrow and Donut's positive he's either going to watch the other man leave or throw something at him.

"Fine."

Donut can't help but stumble back a little at Grif's curt response.

"Wh-What?"

"If getting a stupid hug is all it takes to get you over your stupid pity party, then fine."

"Are you serious?"

Grif's eyes narrow. "You know what? Nevermind. I'm heading back. Die here in self pity for all I care."

He barely manages a step before Donut throws himself at him.

"Nope! You already agreed! No takebacks! We are going to hug!"

In the years since landing in Blood Gulch, Donut likes to think he's got a pretty good idea of who is and isn't a good hugger.

Sadly, it's a very short list as everyone sans himself, Caboose, and occasionally Frank seem to be deathly allergic to anything more affectionate than a firm handshake.

He'd had theories of course but he never thought they'd go further than that.

And at first, his initial thoughts for Grif, okay if maybe a little stiff, seem correct.

Grif doesn't seem to know where to put his hands and stands a bit frozen. But then he relaxes and oh god it's probably one of the best hugs Donut's ever had. Grif is warm and soft and his grip is tight in all the right places and Donut could honestly just melt right here from the pure COMFORT a Grif hug exudes.

Far, far too soon for his liking, Grif pulls away looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"You uh. You good?"

Donut taps his chin and thinks for a moment before nodding and shooting his teammate the brightest smile he has.

"Yeah. I think I am. Thanks."

Grif gives an awkward nod and looks away. "Great. Glad you feel better. Mention any of this to anyone and you're a dead man."

Donut just gives him an affirming hum for an answer. Grif rolls his eyes before he stomps away, muttering too low under his breath for Donut to catch anything useful or interesting.

As...exhausting as this whole time travel thing’s been and as frustrating in how long it took just to get everyone on the same page, that fact that the most apathetic and debatably least-in-touch-with-their-feelings member for both teams just apologized to him, tried to make him feel better, almost, almost makes it all worth it.

Besides, now that everyone is aware of what’s going on, he doesn’t have to do everything by himself anymore. It won’t be long now before Genkins’ inevitable defeat is just another colorful page in his scrapbook.

And once that’s done; maybe….he can figure out just what’s eating at his friend.

#red vs blue #my fics #honestly wasn't going to post this over here cuz it's just...dumb fluff and kinda short #but ffn hates working all of a sudden and won't take my writing anymore so #here we are

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bi-bi-richie · 5 years ago

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BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE SINGLE PARENTS AU

Also sorry there’s no read more tab 😔

Richie almost missed the way Tiger tugged on his shirt and shyly asked him if her and her friend- Eddie’s son if they could go to the playground across the street from the school. He quickly gives her permission, with Eddie’s as well to Frankie, but it’s all because he wants to be alone with Eddie. Maybe a playground park bench wasn’t the dramatic reconnection he wanted to make with Eddie in his dreams, but he’d rather have any reconnection than none.

“So,” Richie said in an awkward manner, “how’ve you been, Eds?”

Eddie fondly shoved Richie with his elbow and Richie felt some of the tension of being alone melt away.

“That nickname is still as horrible as the first time I heard it,” Eddie chuckled. Richie knew that as a kid Eddie secretly loved his nicknames, he hoped that held up to now.

“Sure, Eds, but you haven’t answered my question.”

Eddie hummed, “well, Trashmouth-“ he smirked, “I’m doing good, probably better than I have been in years. Turns out parenting is more fun than I gave it credit for.”

Richie gives him a big, toothy grin, “yeah! I love it more than I thought I ever could, made me feel bad for my parents though.”

Eddie snorted, “same here. Well, my dad at least, but he denies that.”

“I’m sure, he was a nice man,” Richie could barely recall Frank Kaspbrak, Eddie’s father, but he can just barely remember him being the nicest father on earth. He’d always let them play together, even when Eddie’s mom said no, and patched both boys up when they scraped their knee. A piece of Richie is relieved that he’s still alive.

“Is there a certain other Kaspbrak to help you out?” Richie blurted out, then immediately regretted it. His daughter told him that Frankie had no mommy, like her, but he didn’t know about a husband- and a piece of him doesn’t want to know, but he needs to. He thinks.

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, “no, but there was at some point. That’s how I got my son, but it didn’t work out. How about you?”

Richie let out a subtle sigh of relief, then he shrugged his shoulders to mimic Eddie. “Ah, no... there never was either, Tiger was sort of an accident. I’d never tell this to a stranger, but you’re not a stranger, but her mother was kind of an asshole. I’d never judge anyone for not wanting a child, but she only gave her up because she refused to be associated with me, especially after I came out.”

Eddie placed his hand on top of Richie’s then, and it made Richie’s heart soar in a way he hasn’t felt in years. “I’m sorry, Richie, I’m sure you’re a wonderful father to her.”

“Thanks, Eds,” and then they fell silent. There was a burning question Richie wanted to ask him, one that he knew might break his heart if it goes wrong but it’d kill him if he didn’t at least try.

“So-“

“I was thinking-“

Both men looked at each other and laughed. It was as if nothing ever changed between them.

“You first, Eds,” Richie said with a smile.

Eddie huffed out another laugh and nodded his head. “Well, I know our kids want to hang out an awful lot, but I was hoping that maybe- you don’t need to say yes, but maybe you’d want to... to go out with me some night?”

Richie’s heart almost stopped right then and there. He knew he was going to ask Eddie the same thing, but he hadn’t let himself imagine that Eddie would say yes- or even feel the same way.

“Like a date?”

Eddie gave him a shy look and nodded, “yeah...”

Jesus, Richie couldn’t say yes fast enough.

#emmie speaks #reddie #this is kinda long :/#but hell yeah #building my story #parents au

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mtraki · 6 years ago

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RDR2 Headcanon request: Four jobs Arthur Morgan could have had other than being an outlaw (Or possibly while being an outlaw?) with Dutch.

… I don’t know why you do this to me, you know I overthink everything… (i still love you)So, if we stick with Arthur’s canon backstory, we know he’s orphaned around 11 and lives on the streets, having been raised by an outlaw and petty thief. I’ve heard rumors that Arthur was a petty thief or pickpocket himself before Dutch and Hosea picked him up around 14/15, but all I’ve found out from canon for sure is that he was a little hellion when they did pick him up…Assuming Arthur’s size has a good bit more to do with his genes instead of his lifestyle (he’s a big boah and a poor boah and those things don’t usually go together well with growing children) he’s probably just before his major growth spurts when abouts Dutch and Hosea find him. I bring this up so we have an idea of the Arthur we start with before meddling with the Arthur we eventually get…

Most readily, Arthur likely remains a thief on his own, and once he hits that growth spurt and gets big and intimidating, he could start a gang of his own if he wanted… but I don’t want to go that route. I don’t see him surviving long alone in that sort of life…

- If we keep him growing up alone, I like the idea of him wandering out of wherever he was, and going to a new area, maybe the next state over, and working as a hand on a farm or ranch to feed himself, hiring himself on to the next place and the next one. It’s not glamorous, and he won’t get rich… but I think from a story-telling standpoint, it could be interesting. He picks up skills, learns quickly how to tell a jerk employer from a decent one, learns how to assert himself over the other hands, meets a bunch of different people, swaps a bunch of stories, gets stiffed– gets justice (even if it looks more like revenge?)… It’s a thing he could do. He’s not like John, who just CAN’T ABIDE menial labor.

- I also like the idea of him picking up a different mentor, like a priest, or a deputy, or the guy who works at that store over there. Just a guy who sees this kid and decides he’s not going to be one more kid on the streets. This mentor probably isn’t in a position to adopt a rowdy kid off the streets, for whatever reason, but he takes time to talk to him, give him food, try to impart some kind of wisdom… Eventually Arthur goes about trying to make himself useful to this man out of gratitude and a desire to belong. Starts doing odd-jobs or chores or whatever, hangs around, picks up some useful skill (maybe learns to read, that’d be swell). I’m kind of leaning towards priest or deputy, honestly. I like the idea of the town whispering about “the brat who follows the deputy on his patrols” or “haunts the church grounds” eventually turning into the “big feller shadowing the deputy” or “always working around the churchyard”. I don’t see Arthur ever becoming a man of the cloth, but I do see him eventually becoming a sheriff– maybe not even of this town, but I think if provided a good mentor, he’d be one of those ‘salt of the Earth’ sheriffs. One of those who… may not be the nicest man, certainly not the friendliest, and sometimes his ‘justice’ is a bit skewed, but damned if he doesn’t keep his office for 30+ years because everybody trusts him to do the best damn job.

- I think a job Arthur could take to really well, even if he was in the outlaw life for a little while, but then decided to try and go straight would be as private security– particularly for trains, stagecoaches, herds, or prospect sites. It’s sort of mercenary work, and that kind of impersonal business would suit a more hardened Arthur. Besides that, he’d get to travel and he’d be paid well (you generally don’t stiff the guy you hire to shoot people messing with your stuff).

(Let’s throw an AU in here, just for fun!)

- People like to make a modern!AU Arthur an artist… but I think that’s focusing on the wrong thing. Arthur is a very talented sketch artist, but he doesn’t sketch things for art, and in fact, he doesn’t seem to have a great deal of appreciation for art for art’s sake, either. He sketches things he finds interesting. Objects, people, and places he wants to remember. Things that leave an impact on him, and he writes about them too.

Boom. Traveling photo-blogger. He’s a modern adventurer and explorer! I totally see him backpacking around the world, blogging about his adventures, the people he meets, their stories, the misadventures he runs into, the secrets he stumbles across. Arthur always seems to find something strange or interesting wherever he goes in RDR2, and his musings on it are always entertaining. Imagine reading that same deadpan frankness in one of his articles, sprinkled generously with his sass. Sometimes he throws a sketch up there, but his photos are really great. Great storytelling in every shot. NatGeo may or may not be trying to bring him to the table…

He’d have his private journal, of course. The blog is just there for sharing ‘fireside stories’.

#prowlingthunder #asks answered #arthur morgan #modern arthur morgan #rdr2 au headcanons

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buttsonthebeach · 5 years ago

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Quick, Bright, Easy

@wardsarefunctioning is the nicest ever and commissioned me to write about Ashara and Lucius, in an AU in which they are secretly sleeping together! Thank you friend <3 <3 <3 It was fun taking these characters into a modern space and playing around with this scenario.

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots currently CLOSED as of 7/29/19)

Pairing: Ashara Lavellan x Lucius Talvas

Rating: Mature. There is smut but it is not overly explicit. Read at your own discretion!

*****************

As usual, when Ashara made it to Lucius’s dorm room, she was already going a mile a minute. Already kissing him, one hand already on his belt. She smelled like soap and the leave-in conditioner she used religiously on her thick curly hair, and before he was really processing anything, his hands were already tangled in that hair, pulling her closer, breathing harshly against her lips.

“Careful,” she murmured. “I have class in half an hour. Can’t mess up the hair. But also hurry. I have class in half an hour.”

He laughed, and her cheeks pinked with embarrassment.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she said, pushing him a step or two back. “We have an exam today and I’m all wound up and I -”

Lucius silenced her with another kiss, with his hands on her ass now, pulling her tight against him. The sundress she was wearing was thin and he could feel the heat of her skin through the fabric and Maker he was already hard, and minutes ago he had been studying for his own exams and now he’d forgotten everything he’d ever learned about property law and the nature of limited liability corporations (not that he had ever really cared that much about them in the first place). All that mattered now was that Ash was here, and in his arms, her hand already snaking down the front of his jeans, gripping him tight.

Things were always fast with her, it seemed. She thought fast, talked fast, learned fast. She was quick to push him backwards towards his bedroom, to pull the sundress over her head, baring all that perfect brown freckled skin beneath it, the simple brown cotton bra and underwear beneath that. She’d been fast to befriend him after that first day they met in the campus library six months before, at the start of the fall term. She was a firstyear student at the University of Kirkwall but she was already fast knocking out the classes for her degree (Physics of the Fade with a minor in Elvhen Cultural Studies).

And when they’d first kissed, four months ago, she’d been quick to deepen it. They were at a Wintersend party at their friend Laurence’s fraternity, in a quiet corner, and Lucius was tall but so was she and she was on tiptoe and he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her. But he’d had to pull back, tell her the truth that had been knotted around his heart ever since he realized he was falling for her.

“My work-study program - they have very strict rules about dating. I can’t - we can’t - unless it’s a secret.”

And she’d been fast to accept that. Sure, whatever, it’s fine, we don’t need to be that serious anyway.

And now here she was, in his dorm, fast removing his clothes, kissing his collarbone, grinding against his thigh. And she was, as always, a wonder in his arms, and he feared, as always, that it would be over as fast as it had begun. This secret between them. The sweet sound she made when he slipped a hand between them, played with her over her underwear, pushed the underwear aside so he could feel how wet she was.

“Fenedhis,” she swore, her palms slapping against his headboard, and then she whimpered when he entered her, and he wanted to hear that sound every day, he wanted to hold her hand when they walked to and from class, he wanted to take her to one of the nice restaurants off campus, but he was a poor Tevene student from a poor family and this work-study program was the only thing keeping him in school, paying his tuition and putting food on his plate, and so this had to stay a secret.

But all of that fell away as he watched her, all but riding his hand as he fingered her, her own fingernails digging into the headboard. As she pulled away, fumbled through the drawer in his nightstand and found a condom, took him out of his briefs, rolled the condom down, and then sank down on him. Then there was nothing but how good it felt to be in her, close to her. She bent down and rested her forehead against his and it filled him with a tenderness that overwhelmed all of his senses, that forced helpless sounds up from his throat as he kissed her, bucked up into her, everything forgotten but the present moment -

And then, of course, his phone rang.

He had every single contact in there set to vibrate, except for one - Magister Corix, president of the Kirkwall chapter of the Nicon Estoris Center. His boss, and the reason his feelings for the beautiful woman above him had to stay secret.

"Shit. Sorry. Hang on. I have to take this."

Just as she'd been fast with everything, Ash was fast to listen. She pulled away from him, scrambled to the end of the bed, panting, apologizing. Lucius took a second to catch his breath, cleared his throat, and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Lucius. You sound out of breath."

Lucius closed his eyes, tempted to pray to the Maker he didn't believe in. "Sorry. I'm at the gym."

"I see. Go ahead and wrap up there - I have another mailing I'd like to get out before close of business today and I'll need you to come in as soon as you can."

"Understood. I'll be there in forty-five minutes."

"Sooner if you can. There are at least one hundred envelopes to be stuffed."

Corix hung up. Lucius had been working for him since he was a first year himself, and in those five years he still had not seemed to grasp that Lucius did not have a car, that forty-five minutes was the absolute fastest he could get from the University's Lowtown campus to the Center's Hightown office if he took the bus. Nor did he understand that most voters weren't going to open the mailings that Lucius would painstakingly assemble all afternoon. That was probably a good thing, though. The Nicon Estoris Center was focused primarily on so-called traditional Thedosian politics, and promoting the interests of the Chantry, and Lucius didn't particularly want anyone to open their mailings. He didn't particularly want to work there at all. But it was the only nonprofit that would pay the lion's share of his tuition, and his parents were so proud of him for going to college, and it wasn't like they were as reactionary as the Venatori faction that had been trying to influence Tevene politics and Thedosian politics at large -

And to be frank it hadn't really mattered all that much to him until this year. Until he met the woman sitting nervous and cross-legged at the foot of his bed, chewing her lower lip. The delicate points of her elven ears just visible through the cloud of her curls. Exactly the sort of person that the stewards of the Nicon-Estoris Center would never approve of.

All participants in the work-study will uphold the values of the Center in all aspects of their daily lives. This extends to their romantic involvements. Failure to uphold these values will result in termination of participants' work-study benefits.

They didn't say it explicitly, but Lucius had stuffed enough envelopes and edited enough promotional material to know what they meant. First, no sex outside of marriage, period. Second, that eventual marriage was to be with a Tevene woman. There was no room for any of the things he had ever felt towards other men. Or for what he felt for Ashara Lavellan, an elf, and the brightest and kindest person he knew.

"I should go," she said awkwardly, rising, looking around for the sundress she had discarded.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I've got that exam. Do you think you'll still make it to D&D tonight?"

"I think so. I'll probably be late though."

"That's okay. I'll let the others know. See you then."

She stood looking down at him, dressed but still flushed with desire, pink along the hollow of her throat and the rise of her breasts, the pupils of her big blue eyes still dilated. Before Lucius could say anything else she bent down and kissed his cheek. She drew back but her hand was still cupping his face, her thumb drawing a pattern across his cheekbone. She looked at him another moment, something like fear in her eyes, and then she was gone as fast as she arrived.

Lucius had never put that much energy into love and relationships. He'd been shy and awkward since the day he was born if you listened to his mother. He'd attended an integrated school in Vyrantium, in an era when the Tevene school system was trying to prove that mages and non-mages could have the exact same education, right down to their classes in practical magical applications. The end result as far as his social life was concerned was that he was isolated from the non-mage students who resented those who still had magic, an increasingly rare skill in modern Thedas, and one the teachers still fussed over despite being told to treat all students as equal. And yet his relative poverty isolated him from the wealthy mage students, of whom there were far more than non-wealthy mage students.

And, of course, the elven students, regardless of the other categories they might fit into - mage or non-mage - tended to stick to themselves as well.

Some students were brave enough, gregarious enough, to overcome those divides. Lucius barely had the desire or energy to talk to the students he most closely resembled, no matter how many pep talks his parents gave him. That did not change as he got older, as he became aware of certain girls at his school, and then occasionally of certain boys. He wanted the things he saw other people having - dates and presents and holding hands in the hall - but he wanted them distantly. The same way he wanted to be able to cast a fireball, the way mages had in the past, before magic became so rare and so weakened.

That had changed a little in college, with the introduction of alcohol. His work-study situation had been the perfect excuse to keep things casual. To dip his toes in, see what it was like, and then withdraw before any lines were crossed.

Until Ashara.

Lucius sat in one of the oak-paneled conference rooms at the Nicon Estoris Center, mindlessly filling envelopes, thinking only of her. About how she'd kissed his cheek before leaving. It hadn't been like that when their secret first started. There'd been plenty of kissing of course but it was the hot and heavy kind that happened when you came over to "watch a movie." It had progressed from there. She was frank about her inexperience and he was frank about his and so they learned together, all the way until they'd finally had sex. A first for both of them. But even then she had not clung to him or made professions of love. And she had not kissed him on the cheek before she left.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, trying to refocus on the task at hand. He was obsessing over nothing.

Ash was comfortable with their situation. He would know if she wasn’t. She wasn’t particularly good at hiding what she was feeling. And though no one was forbidding her from dating, or from dating someone who wasn’t an elf, she had plenty of reason to only want something casual. She’d come to the University of Kirkwall from the Republic of Enasan, an elf majority country in the far south. She was the daughter of two well known politicians down there - Solas and Ellana Lavellan - and she was a gifted mage and a gifted student. She was enjoying her first freedom from her parents and their relative fame (though she did always speak of them with great fondness). She was undoubtedly going to go on to great things. She didn’t need to fall in love.

She certainly didn’t need to fall in love with a twenty-three-year-old Business major who still had another semester to go after this one because he’d had to take time off part way through his degree to help out back at home in Vyrantium, who wasn’t even a particularly good or enthusiastic Business major, who had no idea what he was going to do with the degree when he was done with it.

So that was what Lucius reminded himself of over and over again. Not of the way she��d rested her forehead against his while they were having sex, or of the way she’d kissed his cheek or looked down at him with something like fear, something like hope, in her eyes. Of how impossible all of it was. Of how he’d never counted on falling in love anyway.

“Are we expecting more food?”

Laurence’s question cut through the fog of Ashara’s thoughts. She turned away from the door to the hallway, which she must have been watching more intently than she thought she had been.

“No.”

“Oh. Too bad.” Laurence didn’t seem too put out though. He had a plate full of pizza in front of him after all. Their other friend, Haleir, was the one who started laughing.

“Wait - did you actually ask that just because Lavellan was staring at the door?”

“Yes. She usually does that when we’re waiting for the food to arrive,” Laurence said simply, and Ashara could already feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Haleir laughed even harder at that.

“I’m not sure what’s funnier - the fact that she does stare at the door when we’re waiting for food, or the fact that you noticed and got excited.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ashara groused finally, kicking at Haleir’s chair.

“Please no destruction of furniture,” Claudia said, emerging from her room with her mountain of D&D books in her arms. “Where’s Lucius?”

Ashara pretended that the name didn’t make her sit up a little straighter.

“Running late. He had to go to work on short notice.”

“Oh. He didn’t text that, did he?” Claudia reached for her phone, frowning as she swiped through the notifications.

Ashara realized her error at once.

“No - ah - I saw him earlier today on my way to class. He told me then.”

Claudia gave Ashara one long, searching look, and then she dropped it. Haleir and Laurence were busy laughing about something else by that point, which was a relief. Ashara was no good at keeping secrets, if she was honest with herself. She was amazed this one had lasted as long as it had. Four whole months. Four great months. Free to explore and learn and enjoy college and more importantly to enjoy Lucius, the secret world between the two of them - the soft little quirk of his lips when he found something funny about a movie they were watching, because he very rarely laughed out loud - the way he melted whenever she ran her fingers up and down the back of his neck as they kissed - his ticklish spots and the tone his voice only ever took on when it was the two of them -

“Ashara.”

Haleir’s singsonging voice jerked her back. He was the only one who ever called her by her full name, since he was the only other elf in the little group they’d cobbled together over the school year.

“What?”

“What time is he getting here?”

“Oh. He didn’t say. Let me text him.”

She sent the text and then drifted on the tide of conversation as she waited for his reply, observing her friends. She and Haleir were the youngest, still in their first year at the university, and had met in their orientation; Ashara had already known Claudia through their parents’ friendship, which was why they were roommates, even though she was a year ahead of Ashara in school; Laurence, also in his second year in college, had shown up (already high on elfroot) to a party Claudia was hosting, thinking it was a dorm belonging to one of his frat brothers, and had stuck around since. And then there was Lucius, the oldest of them by a good three years, still working on finishing the last credits he needed for his degree, and painfully aware of that fact. She wanted to soothe his feelings about it, to remind him that none of them cared, that probably no one cared. She hoped he was doing okay at work. She wondered why he hadn’t texted back yet.

Claudia got to work arranging miniatures and reviewing her notes for the evening’s session, and then they were all complaining about their midterms when Lucius texted back.

Should be on my way soon. Maybe 30 minutes but then I have to take the bus. You can start without me.

A dart of disappointment hit her chest. He sounded disappointed too. Hopefully he wasn’t too tired to come after all.

“What’s wrong?” Claudia asked.

“Lucius isn’t leaving work for another 30 minutes and then he has to take the bus to get here. He said we should start without him.”

“I can roll for him,” Laurence offered.

“Nope,” Claudia said. “Same rule as always. You miss a session, you don’t get any of the XP or loot. You guys are all back in town right now, anyway. He can let us know what his wizard has been up to.”

Normally D&D was one of Ashara’s favorite parts of the week. A chance to escape from the mundane every day into a world more magical than their own - a world similar to the one her father described in every one of her childhood bedtime stories. A Thedas where magic was not a trickle but a deluge, where the beings whose skulls she saw in museums were real - dragons and varterrals and broodmothers. A world she got to study now that she was finally in college. But that evening her eyes kept drifting back to her phone, over and over and over again.

Things were casual with Lucius. Casual and secret. Both of those things were good. She was too busy for anything else. Too young for anything else.

Right?

But she hadn’t felt casual about him that afternoon, standing there looking down at him in his bed as she got ready to go to class. She hadn’t felt casual when she kissed his cheek on her way out the door.

Well, whatever her feelings were they didn’t matter. He had to protect his work-study benefits. He had no other choice. He was the first person in his family to go to college and even if she did have feelings for him it would still have to be a secret and that would probably hurt worse, and he probably didn’t even want that, and it wouldn’t be fair to put that on him, but she didn’t have feelings anyway so -

“Ash!” Laurence sounded uncharacteristically frustrated.

“Nope,” Claudia said. “Too late. She wasn’t listening and didn’t react quickly enough to help you flirt with the barkeep. He has already moved on in horror and, quite frankly, disgust.”

“What? Sorry, what did I miss?”

“Laurence has failed in his quest to successfully hit on every barkeep in town. He was hoping you would step in and roll to assist him,” Haleir snorted.

“Oh, gods, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, it’s no problem. Perhaps your character wanted to see mine fail, anyway. He is quite handsome in his new set of armor,” he said with a dramatic waggle of his eyebrows.

“If her character is anything like her, I don’t think she dates,” Haleir chimed in, a sly grin on his face.

Ashara felt the urge to argue, and then stopped herself. A secret was a secret, and they weren’t really dating, and there was no reason for that fact to make her feel sad.

“A pity in both universes, then,” Laurence sighed.

Ashara’s cheeks filled with heat.

“You would be correct. My character is a dedicated cleric of Mythal and doesn’t need any distractions.”

“And her real life counterpart?” Haleir asked.

“Not everyone is as obsessed with sex as you two,” Claudia quipped, shooting a glare at both of them.

“Thank you, Claudia.”

By the time Lucius arrived they had moved on from the subject and were heading through a tunnel they’d found in the basement of one of the bars in town, trying to see if it did in fact connect to the Deep Roads, and someone had pulled out a pack of cheap hard ciders, and Ashara was buzzy with laughter, totally removed from the confusion of the earlier part of the day. But then he was there, tall and dark-haired and quiet, and nothing else mattered other than the fact that she wanted to see him smile.

“Talvas!” Haleir crowed. “You’ve really got to quit that job.”

“I wish,” Lucius said, sitting heavily in a chair beside Laurence, accepting the cider he passed over. “What did I miss?”

They launched back into the game. All the while, Ashara wished that Lucius had come and said hi to her, that he had sat in the empty seat to her right and not next to Laurence, and most of all she wished that she didn’t wish those things.

* Lucius was surprised how many levels there were to intimacy. How many shades of difference there were in sex alone, even ignoring the other kinds of intimacy - the emotional kind, the intimacy of holding someone’s hand.

When he and Ashara had first slept together, it had been an awkward, half-drunk thing, and of course it was intimate by default because they were naked and he was inside her but that was a blunt, de facto kind of intimacy, wasn’t it?

It was nothing like the next time they slept together, two weeks after the time they’d been interrupted by the phone call from Corix.

He and Ash had been texting all day, venting their frustrations over schoolwork and parents and high expectations. He could tell even through those words that she wasn’t having a good day. She was an anxious person, and had gone to a therapist for it back in Enasan, but hadn’t found someone she liked in Kirkwall yet. He’d heard her talk about the strategies she had learned over the years to cope, and had watched how she could get so overwhelmed that she forgot to use them. So he texted her again:

Do you want to come over?

Not sure I’ll be good company.

You’re always good company.

:) omw

He was nervous the way he always was when she came over. Excited, happy nervous. But it didn’t unfold the way it usually did. There was no awkward pretense of something else before they dove eagerly into sex. There was nothing awkward about seeing her look so tired, so defeated, and wanting to soothe that away. They sat and they talked about her fears that she was in the wrong major even though it was the only thing she’d ever wanted to study, ever since she was a little girl and her magic first became apparent. How she was wondering now if it was selfish, the height of her privilege to study something so esoteric and theoretical when so many people all around Thedas needed help.

“I don’t see you that way. You went on that volunteer trip to Par Vollen for spring break, right? And you went to that protest against the gentrification of Lowtown’s historic alienage district last week.”

“Yes, but is that enough? Am I enough?”

It was natural to tilt her face back up, to look her in the eye, to say softly:

“Of course you are.”

It was natural to kiss her then, sweet and soft, and it was also the most intimate thing he’d ever done with another person. To hold her close, to hear her breath hitch not in desire but against the rush of tears. To kiss her eyelids and her nose, and then to feel her bury herself against his chest. He leaned back against the couch cushions and they lay there like that, and it was a rush as strong as that first time they’d slept together.

“Do you want to watch something?” he asked eventually. “Or get something to eat?”

“Whatever you want,” she murmured. “I’m happy like this.”

He turned on the TV for the sound of low voices but barely paid attention to what was on it, trying instead to commit to memory what it felt like to be so close to someone. So trusted. Anxiousness bubbled in the back of his own mind - this was too close, too intimate, and the closer and more intimate things got the more it would hurt to keep it secret, the harder it would be - but he kept silencing it over and over again. He wanted not to care. He wanted to be someone who didn’t have to care about these things. So he would be, at least for now.

Ash sat up eventually, bleary-eyed, her cheek creased by his shirt. She’d been sleeping and that realization filled him with a rush of emotion. They had never stayed over with one another. Had never even taken a nap together. And to see her now, when she was slowed down, yawning, vulnerable, not a whirling rush of feeling and thought -

Lucius leaned over and kissed her before he could feel or think anything else. She responded at once, soft sounds dropping from her lips, and he deepened it, and she followed suit, opening her mouth against his, threading her fingers into his hair. He pulled her closer, onto his lap. He could feel himself getting hard between them but he focused only on the way it felt to kiss her, on the present moment, because nothing else was guaranteed for them. Ashara started grinding against his leg. Everything felt slower than usual as she reached for the hem of his t-shirt, helped him pull it over his head, as she ran her hands along his shoulders and chest, still kissing him, still grinding against him. She pulled back, made long and steady eye contact with him, and suddenly there was no rush; they could make the present last forever.

“Do you want to go to my room?” he asked.

She nodded, and they went together, undressed slowly, came together on the bed naked and quiet, covered themselves up beneath the blankets, making a perfect warm secret place where there was only the two of them, and Lucius knew - knew - as he moved in her that this was too close, too intimate, that they hadn’t talked about this, that it could never go anywhere. But looking down at her beneath him, feeling her body so close to his, he could not imagine letting her go.

“Closer,” Ash said, tugging on his shoulders, and he laid down on top of her and she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight and he moved in her until all the pleasure coiled white hot in his core and he came, shuddering, not embarrassed of the sounds he made for the first time, because she was holding him, whispering something in her native tongue.

When it was over he lay beside her, not quite touching, and this time his mind was the one that was fast. Maybe - maybe this could work - it could stay a secret but it didn’t have to be meaningless anymore - maybe -

“I - I should go,” Ashara said suddenly, softly.

Lucius rolled over, saw her lying there stiff, looking up at the ceiling.

��There’s no rush,” he ventured, but Ashara was already standing up, collecting her clothes, not meeting his eyes.

“I, um - I forgot I had plans with Claudia tonight. I’m sorry. I’ll text you later?”

She was gone, and there was no good-bye kiss, and slowly but surely all the maybes in his mind drifted away.

Ashara had known Claudia on and off again, like a distant cousin, since she was young, but Claudia didn’t even need to know someone all that well to be able to read them like a book. And considering that people who didn’t even know Ashara could read her like a book, she probably didn’t stand a chance of hiding what she was feeling from her friend, but that didn’t stop her from trying as she unlocked the door to their dorm and slipped inside.

“There you are,” Claudia said from the couch. And then, about twenty seconds afterwards, before Ashara had a chance to get to her room. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Ashara said, even though she felt like she hadn’t been able to breathe all day, her anxiety a vice that had started the day with its grip on her throat and had been tightening it one notch at a time ever since. It hadn’t been bad like this in a while. Was it just that the flush of excitement of starting college had worn off? Leftover stress from midterms? Why was her brain once again focused on nitpicking every last moment of every day, like a song she couldn’t turn off or ignore?

Was it because of Lucius? Because of how good he’d been at breaking down that panic in her, and how she wanted that in her life every day and couldn’t have it?

“Ash,” Claudia said, her tone equal parts warming and warning.

“No, it’s fine, really. I’ll be fine. I’m just going to go lie down for a bit.”

Except lying down made her think of Lucius again, about how she’d wanted to stay in his arms forever, about how that frightened her. About how she had no reason to be so anxious and how she really shouldn’t feel bad about anything, ever, because she was so lucky in comparison to so many others, including him. She didn’t have to work for a place she hated and disagreed with, didn’t have to give up on living her life in any particular way, just to get her degree. So really all of her self-pitying moments, all of her fear were stupid, self-indulgent, and she was a piece of shit for ever feeling bad in the first place -

And now she had let all of that fear drive her straight out of Lucius’s arms, right when things had been good, and she hadn’t even explained herself, and she’d probably hurt him, and if there was ever any chance of anything happening, she’d ruined it. And she could not just lie there with that thought sitting on her chest for hours.

So she went back out to the living room, where Claudia was watching one of her favorite fashion shows or another - probably Queer Eye for the Fereldan Guy judging by the group of well-coiffed men on screen - and sat down beside her.

“Are you going to talk about how not fine you are now?” Claudia asked, muting the TV.

“It’s just the same shit,” Ashara mumbled. “I haven’t been feeling like myself. My anxiety is getting really bad and I have no idea why. And I - did something stupid today, and now I feel even worse.”

Claudia frowned.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing - just something stupid. It doesn’t matter what. I just feel awful.”

“That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. If it’s nothing, why feel awful about it? Where were you today, anyway?”

Claudia was one of the most trustworthy people Ashara knew. She would never breathe a word of this to anyone. And suddenly the secret was heavy and awful, as if one of the moons was crushing her windpipe.

“I was with Lucius. Like - with Lucius.”

“Ah, so you are dating him.”

“What - no - but how did you know?”

“Well, I didn’t know know, but I was pretty sure. You two always seemed to have a bit of a thing for each other. I just wasn’t sure why you weren’t shouting it from the rooftops if you were dating.”

Ashara was queasy with shame. Of course it had been obvious. Lucius should have chosen someone else - anyone else - to share this secret with. She was useless when it came to this sort of thing.

“Well, we aren’t dating. We’re just sleeping together. Because of his work-study. They have some stupid clause about upholding Estoris’s morals and values in public and private life.”

Claudia’s eyes widened with understanding. “Shit. Estoris was pretty conservative. So I’m guessing being romantically involved with an elf is completely off the table?”

“It’s actually being romantically involved with anyone you aren’t married to. But I doubt he would have considered an elf marriage material.”

“Lucius is totally against all of this, right?” Claudia asked, eyes narrowing.

“Yes, of course! He hates how conservative the politics are there. You should see him when he gets off of a shift. He spends hours proofreading things he doesn’t believe in and taking meeting minutes for meetings that he wishes didn’t have to happen. But you know what his family’s situation is. He has no other way to afford school, and he’s so close to finishing. So - we decided to keep it a secret. And keep it casual."

"So the stupid thing you did earlier today has something to do with all of this?"

"Yes. I was having a really rough day and he asked me to come over and we talked and cuddled and when we had sex it was - different than before. And I was so happy and then I just panicked and left and barely gave him a chance to say anything and gods I am so stupid, Claudia."

Ashara felt embarrassingly close to tears. Claudia was simply sitting there in front of her, one eyebrow delicately raised, a look of blank confusion on her face.

"So - you were having a good time, connecting with him more than usual, and then you left?"

"Yes. I mean, what other choice did I have?"

"Tell him that your feelings have changed?"

"It won't change the fact that the Center could deny his benefits."

Claudia looked off into the distance, nodding once or twice to herself.

"Let me figure that out. You just need to find out if he feels the same way."

Ashara thought back to earlier that afternoon - how Lucius had kissed her, the gentleness in his tone, the warm cozy closeness as they had sex, so different from excited experimentation or blowing off steam. And yet she still felt afraid.

"Maybe," she said. "We'll see."

Claudia put a hand on Ashara's arms.

"You could always talk to my dads, you know. They lived through some pretty shitty times in Tevinter as far as keeping love secret went."

Lying in her own bed that night, digging her nails into her palms, feeling like the whole world was spinning out from beneath her, like she was helpless and powerless no matter what she did, Ashara came back to that word. Love. She imagined the safety she felt in his arms that afternoon, and that was what pulled her into sleep, what caused her to wake up the next morning, knowing what she had to do.

Lucius already knew that Ashara Lavellan was fast - quick to learn, quick to laugh, quick to feel fear. In the end he shouldn't have been surprised that she would be quick to leave as well.

He'd played the moment she left the day before over and over again in his mind - how she had not even looked over her shoulder as she went. He had to remind himself that she had her own reasons for being okay with their arrangement. For wanting something easy and casual that did not tie her down or alter the dynamic with their friends. He'd panicked her with the intensity of his intimacy.

But then his mind spooled back to the softness of her voice, her words, when they had sex. How she'd held him. He hadn't imagined that.

He'd checked his phone repeatedly that morning but she hadn't texted. He tried to force himself to focus on the textbook in front of him but all he could think was how profoundly little he cared about his degree in business, about the Center and its politics, how he was barely into his twenties and already somehow totally trapped -

There was a knock at his door.

And when he opened it, Ashara was on the other side.

"Hi."

"Hi," he said, heart already in his throat.

"I'm sorry for not texting or calling I just - can I come in? It's okay if you say no."

"Of course."

She was already talking as she crossed the threshold, because Ashara Lavellan was nothing if she was not fast, quick and lively as a flash of sun on the surface of water. About how she was an idiot, and a mess, and she probably wasn't worth the trouble of dealing with what an idiot mess she was, and how she knew things had to stay secret but how Claudia had some type of plan about the Center, and Lucius was caught in the current, happy to see her, not sure he was following, unwilling to interrupt.

"The entire point is," she said, taking both his hands suddenly. "That I like you, Lucius. I don't want this to just be casual. I care about you too much for that. And I don't know if you feel the same way and it's okay if you don't -"

Lucius kissed her, not to silence her but because he didn't have any words of his own for the swelling, buoyant feeling in his chest. Because he would never have half her skill with words anyway. Because he wanted to be quick, too, to show her how he felt.

"I'd like that a lot," he said. "Figuring this out with you."

"Good," Ashara said, beaming. "Then we will."

Lucius had never felt more sure of anything in his life.

#beach writes #beach does commissions #ashara lavellan #lucius talvas #ashara x lucius #eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh #thank you waaardsss

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annabeth-graecus · 6 years ago

Text

When I Taste Tequila

I'm a slut for college AUs recently and it's been so long since I've written anything I wanted to give this a go as a sort of warm up.

Song for this one is Tequila by Dan and Shay bc it's obviously where I got the inspiration for this

Also I’ve started posting my stuff on my AO3 account so go check it out pls kudos and likes inflate my ego

I tried to update the title and fucked up the formatting of this so soz about that

Percy can still remember the first time he laid his eyes on Annabeth.

He was at a college party during freshman year, having spent nearly the entire day trying to convince Jason to tag along with him.

“I don’t do parties.” Jason had huffed, reluctantly following Percy up the driveway to the frat house where the party was in full swing. Music was blaring from the open windows and shaking the floor.

Percy turned back to his friend and put his hands on his shoulders. “It’s time to step out of your comfort zone, my good friend.” When he saw Jason’s skeptical expression Percy rolled his eyes.

“That cute girl you like from your social sciences class will be there.” He said, smirking.

Jason’s mouth opened and closed. “I don’t- I never said-” He stuttered as Percy turned back towards the house and made his way up the driveway, chuckling. He caught up with Percy, muttering that he hated him as they approached the door.

“I don’t even know why I’m still friends with you.” Jason said.

Percy and Jason had been friends since middle school, after Jason had moved from California with his mother to New York to live with his dad. Him and Percy had hit it off straight away, and became thick as thieves as the years progressed. They were both lucky that they were accepted into the same college, meaning they could live together and avoid the awkwardness of sharing a dorm with someone they didn’t know.

“Because you’d be lost without me.” Percy responded, wrapping his arm around Jason’s shoulder.

“Sure.” Jason said.

It was true. Jason wasn’t sure exactly where he’d be if Percy hadn’t come to save him that first day of middle school. He will always remember that trouble maker smile when Percy approached him, sticking out his hand and introducing himself.

Jason was the first to enter the house. “Wow.” Jason said. He’d never been in a frat house before, and was completely taken away by the size. A large staircase led up to the second floor, a huge foyer and archway leading into the living room. There were already loads of people in the house, chatting and drinking. It was a huge house, bigger than any that Percy had certainly been in. They walked through the main hallway into the open plan living room, where the majority of people were.

“Percy, Jason!” A voice said behind them. The two turned to see Frank, one of Percy’s classmates, smiling wide at them.

“Frank, my man.” Percy said, going in to give him a bro hug. Jason smiled at him.

“You guys just get here?” Frank asked, grabbing some beers from a box by his feet and passing them to the two.

Percy nodded, opening the beer and cheersing with the others.

The three chatted for a while, chatting about college and making their way through a few beers. Percy didn’t realise how much he’d drank until he scanned the party again, and dicovering that the room was spinning more than it had been when he first arrived. When he looked at Jason he seemed the same.

“Oh, you need to meet my friend Hazel.” Frank suddenly said, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Hazel!” He shouted.

Suddenly a girl who could have been no taller than 5″3 appeared in front of them. Her curly hair was in braids, and her eyes glittered gold when she smiled.

“Hazel, this is Jason and Percy, my friends I told you about.” Frank said, gesturing to them.

Hazel smirked at Jason. “I see what Piper meant.” She said, stifling her laughter when she saw Jason choke on his beer and his cheeks flush red.

Jason coughed. “Piper? What- what do you mean?” He stuttered.

Hazel just smiled and turned to Frank. “Want to do some kareoke?”

Frank laughed. “You know me so well.” He glanced back at Jason and Percy.

Percy clapped Jason’s back, attempting to bring his friend back down to earth. “Come on, let’s go explore more of the party.” He nodded at Frank and Hazel. “We’ll see you guys in a bit.”

They weaved their way through the crowd, heading into the kitchen. The music was so loud Percy could feel the bass in his chest.

Jason was still reeling at what Hazel had said to him. “What do you think Hazel means, ‘I see what Piper meant’?” He took another sip of beer. “Does Piper know who I am?”

“You stare at her enough during classes, maybe she’s finally noticed her stalker.” Percy said.

Jason scowled. “I don’t stare at her.”

“Dude.” Percy said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve seen you in class. I’m suprised you even manage to make notes in between staring at her and dribbling.”

Jason glared at him. “I don’t-”

“Jason?” A voice said from behind him.

Jason whirled around and nearly had a heart attack when he saw who said his name.

“P-Piper.” He said.

Piper was wearing a pair of high waisted shorts and a crop top, leaving gorgeous glowing skin on show. Jason swallowed as he looked at Piper, trying to not make it look like he was checking her out.

Even though he totally was.

She smiled at him. “I’ve seen you around in a few of my classes, just thought I’d say hi.” She said, biting her lip.

Jason didn’t realise he was staring until Percy had bumped his shoulder.

“Say something!” He whisper shouted.

Jason snapped back. “Um- yeah, social sciences right?”

Jason didn’t think she could get any more beautiful, but when she smiled again he nearly melted right there and then.

“Yeah.” She turned back to the crowd of people in the middle of the living room. She looked at him. “Do you want to grab a drink?” She asked, tilting her head at him.

“Yes-uh yeah I’d like that.” Jason said, his reply instant. Piper smiled again and pulled on his hand, taking him away.

Percy chuckled at them, flashing Jason a thumbs up when he turned back towards his friend, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ to him.

That was when Percy saw her.

In the middle of the crowd was the most beautiful girl he had ever set his eyes on. Her golden curls were practically glowing as she moved. She was holding a bottle of tequila in her hand, laughing and dancing with the others. She was wearing a sorority sweatshirt, but he couldn’t quite make out the name.

Percy’s mother had always taught him to respect women, but she really was hot.

Percy immediately felt his knees go weak as he watched her twist and turn, her smile as bright at her hair. Percy took a sip of beer and stared at her, in awe.

Then suddenly girl began to move away from the crowd and head towards the kitchen.

Right towards Percy.

The two made eye contact and Annabeth smiled at him, walking past. He got the slightest whiff of lemon scent as she passed. Percy, whose brain had turned to complete mush at that point, turned to look at her.

“Hey.” He said.

The girl spun around, the bottle of tequila still in her hand, but this time it was accompanied by two shot glasses. “Hey.” She said, smiling at him again. She set the glasses down.

“I’m Percy.” He said.

The girl took a swig from the bottle. “Annabeth.” She offered the bottle towards him.

Even her name was enough to make Percy feel weak. He could hear the West Coast accent as she said her name. He took the tequila from her hand and sipped, ignoring the burning sensation as it slipped down his throat.

“I haven’t seen you around NYU. What’s your major?” He asked, trying to casually lean back on the kitchen counter. He offered the bottle back to her.

Annabeth took it. “Oh, I’m not actually at NYU. I go to Cornell- architecture. My friend Piper dragged me to this party.” She pointed in the direction of Piper, who was standing with Jason.

“Is that blond guy with Piper your friend?” Annabeth asked.

Percy nodded. “Uh- yeah, Jason.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t shut up about him since the beginning of semester.”

Percy nodded. “Yeah, it’s been the same with him.” They both laughed and settled into a silence. Percy looked at Annabeth, taking in her appearance. The way her tanned skin seemed to glow, her blonde tresses and those eyes. Up close they were even more stunning and reminded him of a stormy day, clouds swirling and colliding.

“So, Cornell?” Percy blew air out of his cheeks. “Wow.”

Annabeth ducked her head. “Yeah, wanted to get away from my parents so moving across the country seemed like the best thing.”

Percy could tell there was a whole story behind that, but didn’t want to pry. He was also far too drunk to be having deep conversations.

“You’re from the West Coast?” He asked, sipping his beer.

Annabeth nodded. “San Fran born and raised. Although I did used to go to a summer camp on Long Island.” She frowned, trying to remember the name.

Percy tilted his head. “It wasn’t camp Half Blood was it?”

Annabeth’s eyes lit up. “Yes! How did you know?”

Percy chuckled. “I used to go there too.”

Annabeth hit his arm. “No way! Which cabin were you in? I was in 6.”

Percy loved the way her eyes shined as she was talking. “Cabin 3.”

She nodded. “Ah, that’s probably why I never saw you.” She was all of a sudden standing very close to him now, and he could smell her lemon scented shampoo even better now.

Percy’s breath hitched in his throat. “Yeah I uh- I only went for a few years.”

His mother had sent him to Camp Half Blood when he was 13 and he kept going until he was 16. It was more of a way to get Percy out of the apartment in order to avoid his step-dad Gabe, who wasn't the nicest person to be around. He had enjoyed it a lot, making friends and having an escape from his life. He wished that he had bumped into Annabeth at some point.

Annabeth smiled again and Percy had to grip onto the counter to stop him from losing it.

She looked over at Jason and Piper, who were still talking.

“They seem to be getting on well.” She said. “Now I understand why she hasn’t stopped banging on about him.”

Percy felt a pang of jealousy and sipped his beer.

Annabeth shrugged. “Not really my type though.” When she looked at him she had a glint in her eye.

Percy raised his eyebrow. “What’s your type then?”

Annabeth shrugged innocently. “Oh I don’t know. Tall, dark hair, green eyes.”

Percy felt his heart stop momentarily as he stared at Annabeth, his mouth wide open.

“Come on,” She said, picking up the shot glasses and taking his hand. “Let’s go do some tequila shots.”

Percy happily let her drag him away.

“Hey, you alright?”

Percy snapped out of his reverie, looking over at Annabeth. They were sat at the bay window of their apartment, toes touching and mugs of tea in their hands. Their college days were far behind them now. His eyes gazed at her face, then to her growing stomach, a small smile playing on his lips. He then realised she was wearing her old sorority sweatshirt, baggier now after so many years.

“Yeah.” Percy answered, blowing on his mug and taking a sip.

Annabeth gave him a warm smile, resting a hand on her bump “Where did you go?”

Percy shook his head. “Just...remembering our college days.”

Annabeth hummed. “It was a good time, wasn’t it?”

Percy reached for her hand, stroking it gently. “It certainly was.”

#percabeth #percabeth fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #Heroes of Olympus #jasiper #frank zhang #hazel levesque #jasiper fluff #oh wow it's been so long since I've written anything #fluff

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stardewxcrossing · 7 years ago

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Family Values - Mafia AU of the Losers Club

Summary: When Frank Kaspbrak dies, he leaves behind his blood stained empire to his wife and son. Eddie wants nothing to do with the family business, while Sonia is ruthless, manipulative, and will stop at nothing to keep him in her grasp. His life takes a different turn when the one person he falls in love with turns out to be a cop, who happens to be part of a team trying to take down his family.

Chapter: | 1 | 2 - coming soon |

Read on AO3 // Word count: 3.8k

It really didn’t surprise anyone when squad cars swarmed the beach parking lot. Typical disturbances such as fights broke out all the time, or some dumb teenager thinking they can get away with petty theft, but not today. The body of a young girl had washed up the short earlier that morning, battered and bruised. This was the fourth body they had found this month, and they were no closer to catching the people involved as they were to figuring out why the body count was rising. They had some inkling of what was going on, but with no hard evidence, it wasn’t going to be easy to bring down the biggest family in Los Angeles.

Richie Tozier had transferred to LAPD for two full months now, and he was honestly bored. Not that there wasn’t anything going on; it’s more that no one will give him anything to do. No, actually, they gave me plenty to do, he thought bitterly as he stared at the mountain of paperwork the Chief had dropped on his desk yesterday morning. He get that being new and one of the youngest detectives on the force, he still had a long way to go to prove himself. But he figured having graduated the academy at the top of his class and pass the detective exam at the age of 24 should at least amount to something. Nope, still a rookie, rang out in his head as he doodled an obscene drawing on one of the reports he was supposed to be filling out.

“Morning, Rich.” Richie leaned back in his chair and looked up to see Mike Hanlon approaching him. Hanlon was a few years younger than he was and just joined the force for about six or so months before Richie moved to LA. He was probably the only person Richie enjoyed talking to at the station, and the only friend he had so far. Unfortunately, he was also the Chief’s grandson. “Chief wants you to go get coffee,” he looked almost apologetic. Of fucking course. Shit was happening everywhere in the city, and he was stuck making a coffee run for the fifth morning in a row. LA fucking sucked.

“Sir! Yes, sir!” Richie jumped to his feet in perfect posture and saluted before patting Mike on the back and went out the door. The walk to the shop wasn’t a long one, and he would’ve rather enjoyed it, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew he was only being sent out so that he’d miss the morning briefings. Again, LA fucking sucked.

He opened the door to the shop and was greeted by a beaming barista, “Morning, Rich-Rich.”

“Jenny, baby!” he winked at her.

“They got you on another run?”

“Always, but my day just got better seeing your pretty face.”

She let out a soft giggle, cheeks flushed, “Shut up, Richie,” and went to get started on his order.

As he stood waiting, he noticed a boy standing in front of him. He was wearing a light pink polo with a grey sweater and khaki pants. His hair was a dark brown color and curled slightly at the ends. Richie couldn’t help but trail his gaze downwards, and damn, that was definitely the nicest ass he’s seen since he’s moved here. He smirked and let out a whistle louder than he intended. The boy turned around abruptly as Richie whipped his head up, but it was too late. He had been caught.

“Can I help you with something?” The boy said with annoyance.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he said, still smiling. The boy rolled his eyes and began to turn around when Richie spoke up, “I’m Richie.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the boy replied, “Eddie,” his expression unchanged. Richie took a good look at his face, and had to admit he was really cute. They were standing close enough that he could see the light trickle of freckles on the other boy’s face. His eyes were chocolate brown that seemed to have a soft twinkle in them. Ok, maybe LA wasn’t so bad after all.

Before Richie could begin a conversation, the door to the shop jingled open, catching both of their attention. A boy with short, curly brown hair had walked in, caught Eddie’s eye, and made his way towards them. Hm, boyfriend…? Richie wondered. The other boy glanced at Richie for a split second before turning his attention back to Eddie and said, “Let’s go?”

Jerk. Richie thought.

Without another word or look in Richie’s direction, the other two boys walked out the shop.

“Here ya go,” he turned around to see Jenny standing with his drinks. “I gave you an extra muffin to get you through the rest of the day,” she gave him a smile before turning back to the register. Richie glanced down at the bag and noticed a message on the front.

Call me sometime ;) 310-555-9475

“Who was that?” Stan asked as they exited the coffee shop.

“Some creep,” was all Eddie said. “Where were you?”

The silence that followed was apparently all he needed for an answer because Stan could see Eddie tense up out of the corner of his eye.

“It wasn’t anything important. How was class?” he asked as they approached his car.

“Fine,” the boy said before biting his lower lip.

Stan resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. He could probably guess what Eddie was thinking, but he had already been screamed at by one Kaspbrak that morning and wasn’t really looking to have a lecture from another one. He knew the decisions he made were far from being right, and Eddie only wanted what’s best for him. But Eddie couldn’t possibly understand why he chooses to be like this. Everything he had was because of Eddie’s family. Helping out Sonia was the only way he could think of to repay his debt.

“Stan?” Eddie finally broke the silence. “Can I ask why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you continue working with her?”

Stan sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now, Eddie.” Eddie must have sensed his tone because he dropped the subject completely. He knew his friend meant well, but he hated talking about his feelings. He tried not to think about everything that’s led him to this point in his life, but sometimes his mind wandered.

It had been his eighth birthday, Stan remembered it vividly. He had woken up that morning with excitement running through every part of his body. His father had promised they were going to spend the day at Disneyland, and it was going to be Stan’s first time there. He practically had their whole day already planned out with every person he was going to get an autograph from, every show he was going to watch, and every ride he was going to go on.

He remembered running downstairs, calling for his parents, and not noticing the eerie silence that lingered in the air. When there was no response, he simply thought his parents were out buying breakfast, or something, and would eventually come back. He remembered thinking about how proud his parents were going to be if they came home to see him all dressed and ready to go, and it made him even more excited. Even after he had finished brushing his teeth, dressing himself, and combing his hair, his parents still were not home. So he sat on the couch, waiting, as he watched the television, looking out the window at every sound he heard.

He had waited for an hour… then two… then three. The small boy had been so hopeful when he heard a car pull up to the driveway because for one second, he thought his parents had finally come home. But no, it wasn’t his parents after all. It was Frank Kaspbrak who greeted him when he swung the door open. It was Frank Kaspbrak, carrying a big box wrapped in nice paper, that made Stan burst into tears. And it was Frank Kaspbrak who held him as he cried and took him back to his own house to wait for his parents, but they never came.

He had no other relatives, so Stan was eventually put into the foster care system. He was only there for about a month before Frank got the paperwork approved to adopt him. He never really knew what happened to his parents, and when he was younger, he used to dream that they would one day walk back into his life with a perfectly good explanation as to why they walked out in the first place. Those dreams ceased when he turned fourteen. He and Eddie had come home from school thinking they had the house to themselves, when they heard the fight coming from Frank’s study upstairs.

“Goddamn it, Sonia!” Frank’s voice boomed. “He was my best friend!” Stan and Eddie had quietly crept upstairs, and were standing in front of the room with their ears pressed onto the door. Frank’s voice was softer when he spoke again, “Stan… he deserves to know.”

“They left him, Frank. There’s no point in bringing anything up again. They deserted their boy, and that’s all there is to it,” Sonia’s voice was calm, almost cold.

Stan remembered Eddie stepping back and turning to look at him, but he had avoided looking into the other boy’s eyes. So that was the truth. They really had just left him no good explanation. Maybe they hated him. He must’ve done something that caused his parents to walk out. Eddie never spoke about that day to Stan, and he was silently thankful for that. Because he’s never spoken or thought about them after that day either.

“So, where are we going for lunch?” Eddie asked.

Richie trotted back into the station with both his hands holding a tray full of cups. “Honey, I’m h–where the fuck is everyone?” He stopped in front of where Mike was sitting and set the coffee cups onto the desk. The place was practically empty with only Mike and a few other rookie officers scattered around. “How long was I fucking gone?”

“They got a call. Some body washed up by the beach,” Mike answered.

Richie’s head perked up. “What beach?” Mike looked at him skeptically.

“Mikey, my love,” he tried his best attempt at heart eyes, but knew he failed miserably. “Come on. I won’t say I heard it from you,” Richie flashed what he deemed as his most irresistible grin.

“I don’t know, Rich,” Mike rubbed the back of his neck. “Last time–”

“Okay, that was absolutely not all my fault!” How is it his fault that he didn’t have the right description of the suspect and ended up chasing the wrong person for almost seven blocks? Plus, barely any damage was done, and the kid wasn’t even that traumatized. He’d just wet his pants a little that’s all… And Richie may or may not have let the actual perp get away… Okay, maybe that was bad, but this was going to be different.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Whatever. Chief gave specific instructions not to tell you, Richie. Sorry.” Richie scowled, before Mike began again. “I mean, I gotta follow orders. Hope you understand. Just don’t go down to that sandwich shop by the pier for lunch.” Mike gave him a wink, and a smile slowly crept on Richie’s face.

“Michael, I could kiss you!”

“Please don’t,” Mike said scooting his chair away, but Richie’s hands were already on his shoulders as he pulled him in and planted a wet one right on Mike’s cheek. “Richie!” He went to push the man off him, but he was already running towards the door.

“Drinks tonight, Mikey. On me!” And he was out the door.

Stan and Eddie had chosen to eat at the diner right across from Eddie’s campus. It wasn’t a bad place, except for the fact that every time they walked in, the entire place seemed to shift their attention to the two boys. Stan must have grown accustomed to it by now because it didn’t seem to bother him anymore. Eddie, on the other hand, still felt very uncomfortable when it happened. He hated the fact that his reputation in this town was solely based on his parent’s reputation. He wished he could be far away, in a place where people didn’t know who he was.

“Do you have a preference on where to sit?” The waiter, Bill, had approached them, and Eddie snapped out of his thoughts. He was actually their next door neighbor, and surprisingly, always treated them very nicely when they came to the diner, which Eddie had noticed the visits were becoming more frequent lately.

“Anywhere is fine,” Eddie smiled, as Bill led them to a booth in the back corner and set their menus down.

“Can I get you started on something to drink?”

“Waters, please,” Stan replied, eyes glued to a menu he’s already memorized.

“S-sure.” Eddie observed the way Bill’s cheeks reddened slightly as he walked away, and smiled to himself.

“What?” Stan asked.

“Nothing,” Stan raised his eyebrow at Eddie, but didn’t press.

Bill Denbrough had groaned silently when he saw the two boys approach from the parking lot. He knew they were coming because they were almost always here during his shift. He’d notice that he would always dread it if they came, yet when they didn’t, he’d somehow feel disappointed. Which made absolutely no sense, because he’s never even spoken to Eddie Kaspbrak or Stanley Uris, even though they were next door neighbors and went to the same school since they were kids. They had only began their interactions when he started working at the diner. He had picked up the job as a way to make some extra cash so he didn’t always have to ask his parents for money. Not that they would mind, but he liked the idea of being able to support himself. But Bill was beginning to rethink whether he made the right decision by working here. He really didn’t like the way his stomach twisted every time he saw those curls.

Bill tried his best to push the thoughts out of his head as he approached the table again, with their drinks in hand. “You guys ready to order?” he prayed his face wasn’t as red as he felt it to be.

“I’ll take a cheeseburger with fries, and a vanilla shake,” Eddie replied.

“Just a Caesar chicken salad, thanks,” Stan handed the menus back to him causing their hands to brush together for a brief moment. Bill was sure the entire diner could hear his heartbeat, but the other boy made no indication. He simply turned his attention back to Eddie as Bill hurried away.

He really needed to get a grip… Thankfully he only had to endure this embarrassment for another forty minutes or so before his shift ended. After he gave them their food, he tried his best to spend the rest of the shift avoiding their table as much as possible. Only stopping by once to ask them how their food was and to introduce them to the new waitress taking over their table once he left. He couldn’t be happier to leave when he saw the old Ford pull up into the parking lot.

“Bye, everyone!” Bill shouted to the diner and rushed to the car where a girl with firey red hair was dancing in the driver seat.

“Jeez, Billy,” Bev smirked as he settled into the car. “Why are you looking like a tomato?”

“Shut up and drive, Bevvie.”

When Richie finally reached the pier, most of the beach area had been blocked off by officers standing guard. Crowds of people still hung around, trying to peer over the officers to get a look at what was going on. He flashed his badge as he walked towards the crowd and ducked underneath the tape to walk towards the group of men hovering over the body.

Leroy Hanlon had spotted him and frowned, “I don’t remember asking you to be here, Tozier.” Richie opened his mouth to reply when he heard the sound of someone hurling and turned to his left. An officer was hunched over near one of the rocks. “Pathetic. Get ‘im out!” The Chief yelled, before turning his attention back to the body.

Richie moved to the other side to get a better look. “Hey, I know her.” Now he had the Chief’s attention. “Yeah, she worked at that club on 3rd Street… what’s it called?” Richie looked up to see the Chief exchanged a knowing look with the other officers.

“Ritz, go find out what you can,” he walking away from Richie, Ritz alongside him.

“Chief, I can-.”

“Go back to the station, Tozier. I want those reports done by today.”

Un-fucking-believable. He was already deep in conversation with the other detective. Richie had the urge to give both of them the finger, but thought against it. It wasn’t going to help anyway. And then the best idea he’s ever had struck him, and he smiled. Fine, he thought. I promised Mikey a drink anyway, and it just so happens we’re going to a certain club on 3rd Street. If he was going to be kept out of the loop, his only strategy was to have his own investigation. In the meantime, he had a pile of reports to continue doodling on.

Eddie hated anything to do with the line of work his family was in, and he hated it even more that Stan continued to do Sonia’s bidding. His mother was a bitch, and Eddie wasn’t afraid to admit it though he’d never have the courage say it to her face. He knew too well what happened to people who crossed her path wrongfully, and some part of him knew she was capable of doing the same to him.

He was starting to regret his decision to follow Stan as he sat in the corner of a booth waiting for him. Eddie was on his third cocktail, hoping the alcohol would somehow distract him, but it didn’t. He sat up to scan the room, trying to find Stan, when he locked eyes with someone. The boy across the room grinned, and Eddie thought he looked familiar, but couldn’t place where he’d seen him before. He started to turn away, when he noticed him walking towards where he was sitting, and rolled his eyes.

“Eds!” The curly hair boy sat down next to him and flew an arm across his shoulder.

“What the-don’t call me that!” Eddie shoved him off. “Who the hell are you?”

“Eddie Spaghetti, you wound me. It’s only been a few hours and you’ve already forgotten me?”

Then he remembered. The creep that was looking at his ass at the coffee shop. “My name is just Eddie, asshole. And I thought I’d never have to see your face again, so I didn’t bother.” Eddie had no idea why he was being so rude to a stranger, but something about the boy in front of him made him unable to stop his word vomit.

Apparently, the boy wasn’t even offended because he gave out a hearty laugh before saying, “Yowza! Okay, Just Eddie, can we start over?” He was still grinning. “I’m Richie.”

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink, just as Stan was walking back towards where they were sitting.

“You ready to go?” He barely made a glance at Richie.

Eddie stood up, started walking away with Stan, and heard Richie say, “What the fuck?” He turned back and gave a small smile before the boy disappeared out of view.

Richie was in an irritating mood by the time Mike came back from the restroom. It was the second time he had been cockblocked by the same curly hair boy, and he was more than annoyed. Next time he saw Eddie, he wasn’t going to let him get away without having a decent conversation.

“What the hell happened to you?” Mike asked with a laugh.

“Nothing.” It was clearly something. “Let’s get out of here, Mikey.”

Richie had filled Mike in on what happened at the beach, and while the other boy was hesitant at first, he had agreed to go along with him. He said it’d be better for him to be there in case Richie got his ass kicked from mouthing off, to which Richie had given him the finger for.

Mike had told him a little about the club they were in. It was owned by a family named Kaspbrak, supposedly the biggest criminal organization in LA. The head of the family, Frank Kaspbrak, had died a few years back, and the organization is now being run by his wife, Sonia.

“She’s fucking crazy,” Mike had told him. “Chief and Ritz have been trying to get her for years. I hear she’s worse than Frank was. She really doesn’t care about who she crosses, and from what people say, it seems like almost everyone is afraid of her.”

“What’s the organization do?” Richie had to admit he was intrigued.

“Typical stuff like selling and smuggling drugs. Some hitman stuff too. The clubs and other businesses under the Kaspbrak name are supposedly a front. Crazy things go on behind the scenes, apparently. But no one has ever come close to finding any evidence to shut it all down.”

“What about the bodies? You think they’re related to the Kaspbrak situation?”

“Who knows. Chief doesn’t really talk about work at home.” Richie thought it was weird for Mike to call his grandfather Chief outside of work, but didn’t comment. “All I know is the age range is around 18-20 years old, boys and girls alike. Not all are bad kids either. Some of them have never even been arrested or had any record in school. I overheard Chief on the phone with Ritz the other day, though. Something about an overdose. So maybe that’s what’s happening to these kids.”

They decided to split up and had agreed to keep their badges hidden unless absolutely necessary. Mike seemed to think that two cops in the middle of a criminal den flashing their badges was not the right approach, and Richie had agreed. He may be thirsty for some action, but he sure wasn’t stupid. However, they had come up with absolutely nothing during the brief investigation. Either everyone here was in on a secret, or Richie was crazy, and the girl never worked here. Both him and Mike think it was the former. They had both noticed the “security” team slowly forming in the club the more they were pressing for information. Something was being covered up, and Richie knew it.

A/N: finaaaaally??? i hope i didn’t disappoint! i’m going to try to be a little faster with updates. this took a lot longer because i had a lot of planning to do to make sure that everything was going to flow. so i’m sorry >.< but i also work a lot, so i hope everyone can understand. anyway my ask box/messages are always open if anyone wants to send feedback/criticism! please, because it’ll help a lot! <3

@sassyclassysatan & @asteroidbill - wasn’t sure if you guys wanted to be tagged because your comment on the hc post… so i’m only going to tag you in the first chapter. if you want to stay, let me know! (:

tag list: @tomorrowtempley @zoinkstoto @ask-irljennarolan @staruris @killerxqueer @multifan-multishipper @ravenpuffholland @drunkrichietozier @reddieformeerkat @stranger-than-cherry @lemonadeandrice @riverdalexvixens @riverswolfhard @tiptoeingquietly @wilding-throught-thehallways

i hope i tagged everyone? let me know if i missed you (:

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stan uris #stanley uris #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #it au #it fan fic #it fic #it stephen king #the losers club #the losers club au #mafia au #family values fic #writing #mine #bitchardtozier

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annabethj · 7 years ago

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soulmate au - jiper (2 shots of vanilla)

hey guys! this is the second part of my soulmate au world, this time with Jiper! This can be read as a stand alone, but it makes more sense if you read the percabeth part here. I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know who you want me to write for next!

Piper’s job was boring. Here’s the real kicker; she didn’t even have to have it. Her parents were both crazy rich (a movie star AND a supermodel), but she figured having some work experience would do her some good. Plus, her dad thought it’d be a good way to keep her out of trouble. Admittedly, she deserved that. Sure, it kind of felt like a slap in the face, but she was used to that coming from her parents.

Right when she moved to New York for her dad’s new movie, she got enrolled in Goode High. It was a big brick building with blue doors and GOODE smacked on the side of it. She remembered being super intimidated when she first showed up; everyone with their obnoxiously blue matching hoodies that she loved and wanted so so bad. Girls seemed prettier here, somehow, now that they all knew each other and she hadn’t.

Goode’s operating hours were ridiculous. School stated at 7:30, earlier if you had a team or club or something. There were tons of girls who took 2 hours to get ready, which meant getting up at 5:00, and teachers were there an hour earlier, which could mean getting up at 4:00. The amount of tournaments and extracurriculars going on at this school had some students there until 6:00pm. Needless to say, if there was one thing everyone at Goode agreed on, it was coffee.

Even though this was NYC, and there were coffee shops absolutely everywhere, there was one just down the street from the school that everyone loved. It was run by this sweet old lady named Ms. Dahlia, who had recently started hiring when Piper moved. She figured, gee, what a great way to make friends and money! This will be perfect!

Except it wasn’t. Like, at all. She worked both rush hours, which was 6:00 - 7:00, and 2:30 - 3:30. Right before school and right after it. You would think this would be fine, but you’d be mistaken. In all fairness, ‘rush hour’ was a deceiving name. There was probably a 5 minute window in which about 400 fucking people crammed through those doors asking for a latte with soy milk, or - god forbid- anything with 2 pumps of vanilla.

The system was greatly flawed. Vanilla orders were awful, because the machine was a little messed up. It could take probably 3 or 4 orders at a time, but then it needs either 20 minutes to reset or Dwayne Johnson to hold down the button for you. She’d complained to Ms. Dahlia tons of times, but the old lady had always insisted, oh dear, it just needs a little elbow grease, and pushed the button with ease. Only problem, Piper was not strong enough for that much elbow grease.

Brown locks twirled around her fingers as she ran her hand through her hair. Rush couple-of-minutes had come and gone by now, so all that she could do was wait for 7 to come so she could get to school. Today, however, was very different. A girl with dark skin, golden eyes and curly hair walked in. She couldn’t have been more than 14.

“Hi, how can I help you?” Piper asked standing up off her stool.

“Actually, my name is Hazel, and I just got hired,” the girl answered. Piper felt a huge smile forming on her face. Months of working these stupid rush shifts alone and finally, finally, she’d have some decent company. So, she shook her hand, and started showing her the ropes. When there hands were shaking, she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander to the gold writing on Hazel’s wrist.

Frank Zhang. She knew that name. How did she know that name? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

Ah, soulmarks. Her half sisters, Drew and Silena had both been absolutely obsessed as soon as they had gotten theirs. Piper had tried to stay away from all the drama, but she admitted she quite liked playing match maker. She could never quite shake her excitement to meet Jason Grace, the name on the inside of her right index finger.

Hazel got along very well with Piper. She learned that Hazel was doing this job to help put herself through school, which Piper thought was very sweet, but perhaps a little sad. Sweet, just like Hazel. She was probably one of the nicest people she’d ever met. Piper vowed to protect her, as lame as that sounds. She was too innocent for this world, especially New York City.

“The vanilla machine is... cookydooks, Hazel,” Piper had said on the new girl’s first day. She’d wanted to tell her the thing was batshit crazy, but felt like she would get her mouth washed out with soap.

Both girls let out a sigh of relief when the last person left the shop. They’d been working together for months, now, but they’d never been busier. Hazel’s curls that had been tucked neatly beneath her hat had fallen out almost completely. Huffing and puffing, she went and started their routine. Piper got to work cleaning everything off, wiping tables, etc. while Hazel stuck a bag of popcorn in the break room microwave. Some days they watched movies or TV shows on Piper’s phone behind the counter, and other days they took turns catching popcorn in their mouths in varyingly ridiculous places across the store.

Today was the day. Piper readied herself with one foot on the bottom rung of Hazel’s stool while the other girl turned on some music. She skipped over to the couch in the middle of the shop and sat crossed legged, popcorn bowl in hand.

“You can do it, Piper!” she called from her spot. Piper shook her head. Probably not, she thought, but thanks. “3, 2, 1!” Hazel yelled over the music. Adrenaline pumped through her veins (or maybe it was all the coffee), and pushed off her foot. Her body went kind of sideways, and she placed on hand on the top of the stool to help keep her body turning. The top of her hair skimmed across the counter as she was now fully upside down, and Hazel through one, single piece of popcorn, which landed perfectly in Piper’s upside down mouth. Hazel’s jaw went slack for a moment, and then let out a loud cheer. Her coworker continued to flip over the counter, the door opened, and a little jingle sounded.

To say the girls were shocked was an understatement. In all the months Piper had worked here, never had there once been someone who entered outside of the rush. Needless to say, she was rattled by the sudden entrance, which caused her to loose her balance, and, well...

Piper’s back hit the floor with a sickening smack. She let out a rough groan, and vaguely felt Hazel pulling her off the floor. Laughing quietly, she dragged Piper back behind the counter to take this guys order. When she looked up, all the breath remaining left her body. This guy was cute. Really, really cute. He looked strong, and he was blonde, and his eyes were so blue...

Hazel jabbed her in the side and brought her back to reality. She wiggled her eyebrows and moved out of the way, signalling that she didn’t want to take his order. Well, if I must, Piper thought.

“What can I get you?” she smiled, trying to grasp whatever dignity she had left with this guy.

“Cappucino, two shots of vanilla please.” Piper almost liked his voice so much, she didn’t care what he said. Until it finally sunk in, anyways. She nodded solemnly and started on his drink. When it came time for the vanilla, she tilted her head at Hazel to see if she’d come help. Thankfully, the girl was too nice to say no. Together, they held down the vanilla button, pushing as hard as they could, struggling so much that their feet slipped on the cool tile.

The guy had been on his phone, probably texting, but looked up when he heard a loud crash followed by two slight screams. He had one eyebrow raised, and Piper cursed herself for being so embarrassing. She blew a loose piece of hair out of her face, and tried to push the button again. Hazel joined in, but they were both holding on to the counter this time.

“Do you need help?” blondie asked. She knew she should have just said yes, but her pride got the best of her, so she shook her head no. He smiled sweetly at her anyways and helped the girls push the button. It worked effortlessly, no shock there. But Piper wasn’t paying attention to the stupid vanilla machine, no, she was looking at the gold writing on the back of this guy’s hand.

Piper McLean, in big block letters. She felt the wind being knocked out of her for the third time that day. Shaking her head, she decided to play it cool.

“That’ll be 3.50, please,” she smiled at the boy. Jason. Jason Grace. It felt really weird to finally put a face to the name. Weird, but good.

“Say, do me a favour,” she said as she took his 5 dollar bill. His eyebrows raised. “When you tell people about meeting me, can you just make up some cute, normal barista story?” His eyebrows crawled up even further.

“And how do you know I’ll tell people about meeting you?” he asked, confusion in his voice. Piper’s throat went dry. She took his hand and ran her thumb over her name in smooth gold lettering.

“I just figured everyone would want to know how you met your soulmate.”

And then Jason was running around the counter and pulling her into a hug, and the were both laughing, short breathy laughs as tears filled their eyes. Hazel gave her a proud smile and a thumbs up over her shoulder.

“Hey, do you want to come with me to my Aunt Sally’s wedding?” Jason asked her one night. They were in his apartment, having movie night.

“I can’t dance, Jason. You know this,” she rolled her eyes. “In fact, I didn’t know you could dance either.”

“Please, Pipes. They call me Grace Lightning,” he said. Piper laughed, hard.

“That might be the worst thing you’ve ever said,” she answered. Jason hummed and pulled her to the floor. Once they were standing, she threaded her fingers into his soft hair. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and began to guide them. She was wearing a tank top and some sweatpants, tied together with some fluffy socks.

Jason was humming something that Piper had originally thought was nonsense, but she realized she could recognize bits and pieces of melody. He took one of her hands and spun her, other hand landing back on her hips.

“What song is that?” she whispered hoarsely, clearing her throat. Jason smiled and leaned in very close to her ear.

“It’s the one that was playing while you hit the floor,” he said softly. Piper gasped and shoved him away, crossing her arms. He laughed.

“Hey, come on!” he cried pulling her back towards him. His arms held her close again. “I told everyone you wrote my full name on my cup of coffee, by the way,” he chuckled softly.

“Aw, that’s so cute! We’re adorable.”

“Aren’t we?” he smiled at her, and Piper was close enough to see the scar on his lip move. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world. She stood on her tiptoes, and electricity ran through her veins as Jason cupped her cheek.

“My locker’s in the same hallway as Jason’s, if you want to switch,” Hazel told her one day. Piper felt a plan forming in her mind. She was already kind of known as a meddler in Jason’s friend group, according to Percy. She couldn’t very well just tell Frank or Hazel she knew the other one now. It was so magical to meet Jason for real, she wanted them to have that. From this moment forward, she wouldn’t meddle for Hazel and Frank.

She’d make someone else do it.

Unknowingly, of course. Someone close to Frank, who would tell him everything.

“Okay, that’d be great! Thanks!” she called as she ran to class.

That day, she waited an extra 10 minutes after school around Nico’s locker. When she finally saw somebody with the locker next to his walk out, she called:

“Hey! I’ll give you 20 bucks to switch lockers with me!” And the poor kid took it, and Hazel took the locker next to Nico’s the next day.

When Nico ran up to the group a few days later out of breath, Piper knew her plan had worked. Once again, play it cool, she told herself. She pretended to open her mouth and ask what happened, but as expected, Nico danced like the perfect little puppet he was.

“Frank, I met her. Hazel Levesque, right?”

#jiper #jasper #pjo #pjo fic #jiper fic #jasper fic #hoo #hoo fic #jasper oneshot #jiper oneshot #pjo soulmate au #soulmate au #jiper soulmate au

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senkou-lights · 7 years ago

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▶, 🔲, and ❥ in all the AU's you do!

“…Siblings? I don’t have any si-”

With an abrupt, otherwordly flash, Senkou Lights had been replaced with Senkou Unken, or otherwise known as AU!Senkou.

Blinking only a few times, this AU!Senkou didn’t seem to miss a beat as he grinned wide at the chance to talk about his family. “Oh, sure!! I have five total siblings though, so you’re gonna have to meet me below the break.” He smiled warmly.

(Large image here)

“First off, this is Blind spot! My oldest brother. He’s about twelve years older than me, so honestly he feels more like another elder in the house rather than a sibling… In fact, most of my siblings are like that, but I’ll get to them later.” Senkou began, smiling pleasantly as he looked up in thought, considering how to begin… “Blind spot is… Well, suuuuper lazy. Or, maybe he isn’t lazy, but he loves to sleep. It’s most of what he does… If he isn’t working in politics or flirting with mares, he’s sleeping. Granted he does tend to like flirting with mares a lot too…“He’s awfully nice to me, though. I don’t think I ever remember him being mean or angry with me… So it really shows how patient and laid back he is. Though he did like to prank me a lot when I was little.” Senkou couldn’t hide an expression of annoyance as he mentioned this. “But they were always friendly, non-harmful pranks. Currently he serves as a seer… His magic is unique, as he gets visions of the future. As soon as he got his first vision as a ten year old, which was obviously before I was born, he got his mark.”

(Large image here)

“Next up is Cobalt. I have to admit… He’s kind’ve my favorite sibling, but don’t tell anypony that… He’s a full ten years older than me, and honestly acts more like a second dad. Played with me a lot as a kid, gives me tons of advice, gets me food sometimes, gives me presents… And he even disciplined me a lot as a kid. It really feels like I legitimately have a second father with him around.” Senkou went on and on, smiling brightly as his eyes closed, a look of adoration coming across his face. “Cobalt is sooo cool and sooo smart… He was a genius ever since he was a little kid! It’s no wonder he’s so popular with the mares…. and the stallions.“Cobalt is well known in my family… I mean, all of us are well known, we’re the nations protectors and Leaders! Everypony in our nation knows about the Unkens. But Cobalt… He’s special. Ever since he was little, he proved to inherit a super-rare form of magic that resembles psychic abilities. Just like our grandpa. It takes no effort for him to read your mind, in fact, he told me that he struggled to learn how to not invade other ponies minds. Obviously, it’s rude to read somepony’s mind without permission, he says so himself.“Currently, he serves as a Leader, working alongside Dad and still learning to prepare to take over one day. Cobalt would actually be leader right now if my Dad wasn’t young and still fully capable at his job, so instead they work together.”

(Large image here)

“Sword Dancer…” A slight cough escaped Senkou’s throat, his adoration and glee over Cobalt quickly fading and being replaced with a different, hesitant type of pride. “She’s ten years older than me, too… Cobalts twin, actually. The only earth pony of our family, as well. Erm… I know that she loves me, and she would literally fight to the death to protect all of us, but uh…” Senkou gave a nervous laugh, his hoof reaching to the back of his head as he rubbed it nervously. “She uh… always sorta terrified me when I was a foal. Sword isn’t really the… social type. Not the nicest, not the type to give you a smile for no reason, and has a very low tolerance level for ponies that waste her time. That being said, she isn’t actually mean. She hasn’t bullied me or treated me bad before, and in fact, she’s punished bullies that threatened me multiple times as I grew up. Sword lives to protect others, I feel.“Truthfully… I don’t feel like she and I are all that close. We don’t really share the same interests… But regardless of that, I know that if I need her, I could always rely on her. And I have to admit, she’s a hell of a general in our army.”

(Large image here)

“Here is Heartshine! My twin sisterrrr~!!” Senkou cheered happily, more than glad to brag over this fact. “Heartshine has to be the sweetest, most likable pony you’d ever meet… In fact, we often joke about how that’s a bizarre power of hers. She can charm anyone, even if she can’t necessarily convince others to do things. I swear, my parents will always cave into whatever she wants. I suppose we’re all sorta… super lucky that she doesn’t use her charm for evil…“She works with caring for animals, if her mark of a heart sitting on a pillow didn’t make it obvious enough… Probably the only member of our family that isn’t ever pressured into joining the military or politics, and again probably the only one of us that our parents wouldn’t ever dare to pressure into going into the family business…”

(Large image here)

“Juchoi. It’s pretty obvious, but, Juchoi is actually adopted. About a year older than me… He, uh… I remember it being super-awkward when we first found him when he was young… You see, our nation is at war with the Rams, and Juchoi is one of them… But he isn’t just any Ram. He’s the son of the Leader of Rams, so… you can imagine why it might’ve been super awkward when our family first found him when he was super young.” Senkou admitted, eyes averting slightly as a slightly guilty look crossed his face, “…We didn’t really get along at first, as foals… We fought a little, and honestly, my dad tended to side with me. My mom was more fair, but… It took us some time to get to a normal relationship.”Abruptly Senkou’s face switched to that of a wide, proud smile, “But that’s all better now! I consider him practically a best friend, and he returns the feeling. We help each other out, we hang out, we cheer each other up… I feel like he’s my only true brother, ‘cause Cobalt and Blind Spot are so much older than me that they almost feel like Dads.”

(Large image here)

“And here is my best friend!” A wry grin crept over Senkou’s face, “Obviously, she’s not a pony. She’s an Asra Deer, in fact, she’s Princess of the Asra deer, and currently working on becoming an ambassador for her subjects while her older sister prepares to become Queen just like their mother. Shadow is pretty great… We have fun together, and honestly, we kind’ve grew up together… Even though her lands are super far away, Asra magic allows them to teleport here with little problems, and her parents took advantage of this. To be frank? I think that our parents wanted to betroth us into marriage… But uh…” Senkou gave a deep frown, averting his eyes again and trailing off for a moment until continuing into a different subject.“Like I said, she’s working to become an ambassador, so I don’t honestly see her as often as I used to… Juchoi moved over to the Asra lands as well, as they’re looovebiiiirds.” Senkou gave a smirk, chuckling a bit, “They’re engaged currently… So I don’t honestly see Juchoi or Shadow that much anymore… But it’s alright…”

“And as for my crush, well…” Senkou gave a little cough… shuffling around a bit nervously as he looked off to the side, “..T-That’s.. That’s private…” A deep red colored over his cheeks, obviously embarrassed at the mere thought of his crush… Though his mun worked against him as an image of the duo was left for the viewers to enjoy.

Commissioned from Loppoditty.

Characters belong to me and @akikokumori / @mlpautumnal

#ic #super meaningful ask for us #au #Unken AU #Unken Info #Senkou Lights #oc #mlp #pegasus #earth pony #unicorn #ram #Juchoi #Onyx #Shadow Heart #Cobalt #Blind Spot #Sword Dancer #Heartshine

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