#alston

[wingedjewels]

Western Bluebirds by Ruby 2417 Via Flickr: Napa, Ca. April, 2025.

[unteriors]

Alston, Devon.

[roughridingrednecks]

Alston in Maryland

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 4!!!🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 4 "Under Pressure"

Timestamp: 00:24:52

Video Length: 4min. & 16sec.

Fabian's Trust Fund. Nemesis Alert?!

If Fabian cashes out his trust fund sum money early/when he's still in high school or in a place of higher education, it means he'll get 2 million gold pieces right away. The bank will get 5%, and then 18 million will go to Fabian's nemeses! 😭✋

Alston Hughes: "Your father wanted to ensure that you made a name for yourself, right? And he wanted to take care of you."

The weight of Bill Seacaster still looming over Fabian fr! Even after it's been so long since he's been dead for! 😭✋

There's yearly checkpoints!

Fabian asks how they know who his nemeses are and they apparently have their own system for that already!

NOT CHUNGLEDOWN BIM PLEASE!!! 😭😭😭✋✋✋

Fabian: *thousand yard stare*

😭😭😭😭

Brennan! Stop laughing and clapping I swear! 😭✋

I'm shocked Fabian hasn't thought about the name "Chungledown Bim" all summer! 😂 I swear in my mind, Fabian thinks about Chungledown Bim at least once every day because of his trauma 😭😭✋✋ Either that or he has nightmares about Chungledown Bim that he doesn't talk about. 😭😭

Poor Fabian 😭 Bill needed to teach Fabian so much 😭 There's so many things out there that Fabian hasn't learned 😭

Bill Seacaster was frugal! ;0 kinda shocked! ;0 but it made sense when Mr. Hughes said that Bill was more interested in making money! ;0 🤔

Cathilda name drop! 🥺🥺

5,000 gold per month isn't bad at all!!! ✋✋

Alston Hughes: "Would you like nemesis alert?"

😭😭😭😭

Mr. Hughes asks if Fabian wants to "free trial" it! 😭✋

Alston Hughes: "Would you like dragon madness alert?"

😭😭😭😭

[archivediver]

PAUL R. WILLIAMS, A.I.A. - NOTED ARCHITECT

By Charles Alston

[miss-genki-art]

Every player character from a monster-hunter inspired D&D campaign I’m in! For more information on these goobers check out them all together in their teams here!

[oldnorthcarolina]

Henry L. Alston Jr., Riverside Cemetery, Asheville, NC, November 28th, 2023

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Sammiches (Alston, Post War ~25-30 yrs)

(A/N: This is set about 25-30 years post war and post Rider school founding. Al, aka Alston, is a half elf toddler. Born to a human mother who realized that she could not provide for him and an elf father who never knew his one night fling would end in a child and disappeared, Al has been in an orphanage in Alagaësia for about half of his life. Although he is chronologically around six or seven years old, his elvish blood slows his aging and maturity, leaving him with the mind and body of a child that would be considered, in human eyes, around three to four years old. Arya notices him after his innate magic pops off while she and Fírnen in the area, and realizes that no one, not even Al himself, knows what he is. Worried about his safety and the stigma already surrounding him, she and Fírnen begin the process to become Al’s guardians and take him to the Rider school where he can grow up in a mix of cultures and learn how to control his abilities.)

Fírnen gave a sigh of contentment as he rested his head beside his Rider. The last few days had been almost delightfully calm, time spent with Arya and the little two-legs-half-ears Alston. The three were doing their best to get to know each other as the round-ears system processed Arya’s guardianship request. 

The winter sun did little to warm his scales, but Fírnen still stretched out in the beams he could find. It was just past noon, and for the past two days Alston had spent lunchtime beside his prospective guardian and her partner of heart and mind.

Fírnen blinked and let out a rattled cough of laughter. Across the small courtyard the other children fell silent at the noise before slowly returning to their uneasy murmurings and play. 

“What’s so funny?” Arya wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. They had agreed that for Al’s sake they would communicate both aloud and mentally, trying to get the boy used to their connection as quickly as possible.

You synchronized your bites of food. 

Arya’s eyebrows went up. She turned to Al, who had resorted to staring at his apple with intense focus now that she was no longer eating her sandwich. “Are you copying me, kid?” Al vigorously shook his head, bleached mop of silvered blond hair bouncing. A giggle slipped out, though, and he quickly smacked a hand over his mouth. “Well, you’re doing it wrong! You gotta eat your sandwich if you’re gonna copy me!” Arya grinned and rubbed the boy’s head, sending him wobbling. 

Al frowned and crossed his arms, suddenly red faced. “No! I don’t want my sammich.” 

“Ah, come on. You didn’t eat your sandwich yesterday either. You’re gonna be hungry before dinner.” 

The little boy tightened his arms and suddenly blew an emphatic raspberry. “It’s YUCKY!”

Arya’s concern drifted across to Fírnen. Curious, the dragon tasted the air. The salty, greasy tang that met him was unmistakable. There’s meat in it.

“Meat?” The elf flashed him a questioning glance before looking to the increasingly red-face child. “Hey Al, can I see your sandwich?” Ignoring the boy’s wary glare, Arya reached over and unwrapped the apparently offensive lunch. 

A simple ham and cheese sandwich, bread heavily buttered, greeted her from within the wax paper. “Al, do these sandwiches give you a tummy ache?” Fírnen choked back a snort. Arya’s mental swearing came on hard and fast after letting the words ‘tummy ache’ leave her mouth. No matter how hard she tried to speak to the boy like she would anyone else, sometimes the more childish talk slipped out. “Does it make your stomach hurt?”

Al’s tension eased into wary curiosity. “They make me throw up.” His little face screwed up in discomforted disgust. “Kelly’s stew, too.”

“Does Kelly put meat in her stew?” Al nodded. “Well, that’s okay! You don’t have to eat meat. You know, I get a tummy ache if I eat meat too.” At this, Fírnen failed to suppress his laugh. “Can it, deer breath!”

But Al’s eyes were wide. His arms dropped to his side and he leaned in, ecstatic. “You can’t eat meat?”

Arya shook her head, flicking Fírnen where his claw met his scales as his stifled laughter echoed in her head along with jovial queries about how her ‘tummy’ felt. “Nope. Most elves can’t. You probably can’t because of your Da’s side.” Seeing the rest of the child’s meager lunch, Arya took her own sandwich and ripped it in half. 

“Here.” She held the unbitten portion out to the boy. “This shouldn’t make your stomach hurt. You might not like it though.”

Al took the offered meal and sniffed it, appearing almost squirrel like in his examination. He took a cautious bite and chewed it slowly. 

A smile brightened his face. “Ish good!” Lettuce flew from his mouth at the praise, but it was quickly replaced by another healthy mouthful.

“Don’t talk wif your mouf full.” Arya muttered through her own bite. 

Fírnen was surprised Al didn’t lick his fingers clean once the last bit of the sandwich disappeared into his mouth. “Ari, whadda I do wit my bad sammich?” The boy held it out at arms length, trying to pass it off to the elf.

“Hey, I don’t want it.” Arya pulled back and then glanced at her partner. “Fírnen, you want it?”

I could eat. Delighted at the prospect of a morsel, the dragon opened his mouth. 

“Fírnen would love to have your bad sandwich.” Arya brushed her hands off and jerked a thumb towards Fírnen’s waiting maw. “Be careful of his teeth.”

Al toddled over. “Mister Feenan! Tongue out please!” Fírnen obliged, and was rewarded with the taste of buttered bread a moment later. “‘Kay, hands out!” 

Fírnen slowly retracted his tongue before finally closing his mouth with a click of teeth. Thank you, little ears.

“He says thanks, kiddo.”

Al beamed.