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askapalooza 2018: the askening
((hey, here’s a bunch of asks to be answered! honestly the first bunch is a lot of really amazing and sweet asks that are just nice words so feel free to skip those if you want, and theres a bunch more asks i have left too but i plan on using them for later.))
Kings??? Or kids au (that's an oldie)
im assuming fahc kids au? least thats the only one i had specifically. with adults jack and geoff, teen ryan, and kiddos lads
little michael gets into a lot of fights at school that should require reprimanding for at home. but most of them are in response to lil gavvy or jeremy being picked on so maybe geoff and jack don’t punish as much as they should because they just love that michael is so protective of his brothers. and honestly, in this life, fighting is something he’s gonna need to learn anyway.
ryan teaches michael more on fighting anyway, showing him proper technic. when jeremy’s a little older he starts getting lessons too. and if they thought michael was bad, jeremy is so much worse
they try to have movie night once a week, just some time for the adults to wind down from their kind of life and to make sure they spend time with the kids. sometimes its at the theater, sometimes its chilling at home. at homes the best because they all just cuddle up on the couch with homemade popcorn and under blankets and just have a nice, quiet, soft time.
you better believe those boys are spoiled rotten with all the videos games they could ever want. geoff and jack will often sit down and play with them. geoff claims he is just always letting the boys win whenever he loses. but in reality he just sucks
you better believe jack and geoff are incredibly protective over those boys but sometimes the most protective will be ryan, never hesitating to do whatever needs to be done to make sure the younger ones are safe. it scares jack and geoff a little, when he’s one beat someone half to death who tried to grab gav. they don’t let him have any sort of guns not because they dont think he can handle it (though thats what they tell him) but because they honestly fear what destruction he could cause with one
send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it
✏️Lesbian + Writing Aesthetic✏️
~Requested by @diva-de-gallifrey~
Maybe the crew discussing how long they've been alive for??
They came together over the course of a year or two. For some, that would seem like a long period of time - its 1 (or 2) parts of a lifetime. But for them its like the blink of an eye, like something is driving them together. They all feel a need to go to Los Santos - why, they can’t explain: it’s a bastion of hell, it’s a place of death and fear and rage. There’s no explainable reason to go there, but after so long, they learn to follow these urges when they hit.Geoff is the first to cross the hallowed land of the city. To feel its thrumming in his bones, to breathe its life and walk its streets. He’s only there for ten minutes before he realizes that it’s his. It has to be; it’s just a matter of time before he owns the place. He buys a penthouse and sets himself up as a King. Orchestrating his hold on this City of Sin would take time, but that was a commodity he didn’t have to worry about. He could be extremely patient when he had to be.When the others arrive, all are drawn to that same place, to that penthouse door. It takes time for them to grow at ease with one another, but after so long without a friend… well. How do you explain to someone the weight of decades, let alone centuries? When you find someone like you, you tend to hold on. And hold on tight.Two years later, they’re reclining in the living room of the penthouse after a successful heist, getting drunk on hundred year old red wine and reveling in their victory. Boasting about their roles in a heist, robbing the Bank that Couldn’t Be Robbed, by the Crew that Couldn’t Die. Cackles fill the room, increasingly drunken and warm. They did it. The city was wrapped around their little pinkies. They owned it, hearts beating in time with the thrum of the traffic. It was theirs, down to the lowest of the lowlifes and the highest of the superstars. Los Santos Police Department had practically given up. No one could kill the myths, the legends, the Fake AH Crew. They try, of course, but rumors flood the city now - they say Mogar took a bullet to the throat and laughed as blood, cherry red and vivid, dripped over his lips. They say The Vagabond fought with the strength of ten men even when he was missing part of an arm. They die, they go down, and then rise back up again a few minutes later, whole and wearing a smile ready to set even the kindest of men on fire.Waving his arms, Michael laughs, relating some of his shots and mentioning how much better this was than the trenches. They knew they were all inflicted with the same blessing (curse?) but no one pushed about the knowledge of where they had came from. Their First Death, their Real Death - that was personal. Their life Before…. that was personal too. But drunk on wine and flush with victory, the questions start. And as they start, it becomes a torrential downpour. Michael starts, recounting his time serving in the First World War. His first death, blown to pieces by a mine in front of his best friend. How he served in almost every war since then - he didn’t know anything but how to be a good and loyal soldier. Until he fell in with crime, of course. This, he assured them all, was much more fun. They raise their glasses in toast, red wine shining like blood in their crystal goblets.Ramsey, laughingly, is the youngest (though not by much). Killed while running illegal liquor in the twenties, he continued on with crime. While he may be young in terms of years, he had the experience, and they all heaped on the praise until he was flushed and laughing, standing up and screaming the glory of their crew until they were all red-faced and grinning like loons, screaming the might of the Fake AH Crew into the setting sun.Gavin was a young lordling, killed off during the War of the Roses. He lived a variety of roles since then, from the humblest pickpocket to the richest man in England. He knew how to fit in in the highest courts and among the lowest denizens of crime. It fits his position as their Front-runner. Hackers came with a fascination for computers and a dogged desire to learn when they came on the scene late in his life. He leans against Ryan, wine blood red on his lips curled in a wicked smile, blond hair styled just so, teeth blindly white, and bows his head as they sing his fame.Jack’s also quite old. She wasn’t anyone of huge note, but was killed the first time fighting in the French Revolution, storming the streets and fighting the barricades dressed as a man. She was shot through the heart and pulls down her shirt to show the shimmering scar still there. They all hold their death scars and when they coax her, she screams Vive La Revolution! Vive le FAHC! to a chorus of ground-shaking cheers and stomps and drunken howls. Jeremy admits he was a witch with a callous smirk. Killed in Boston after the Salem Witch Trials. It explains the ring around his neck, hung until dead, and the aversion to water. He assures them all that men could also be witches and with a sly smile, admits that he was one of the few ‘real ones’. He thought for years it was his delving into “witchcraft” - blood sacrifices in the moonlight, dancing naked with his fellow Sisters and Brothers, etc - that gave him his immortality. He admits he’s since learned witchcraft is nothing of the sort, but hasn’t ever lost his taste for blood and sin and riding on the Devil’s dick. He says the end with a wink and leans closer to Michael and is applauded with shrieks of laughter and many, many kisses.Ryan’s last, the least drunk of them all but still sipping out of his decanter. He slowly admits that he was a Roman gladiator, hundreds of years older than even the oldest among them. He was killed as a young man in the Rings and traveled all around the Roman empire, fighting for the thrill and for the glory, changing his name every time he died. He grew to infamy and eventually picked up a life of shadowy crime, muscle and death for anyone who crossed him. Its silent for a moment as they all consider how long he must have been alive, but then a true chant of his name rises up: “Ryan!” “Ryan!” “RYAN!” as he takes an elaborate bow. They all come from different places and different backgrounds, united by both the sense that they cannot die and their desire to make the world quiver under their feet. They are Gods, for all sense and purpose. No doors can hold them out, no life they have not lived. Lying on the couch, wine that costs more than some people make in a lifetime spilling out onto their white carpets, they shriek and laugh and tease. Screaming their glory to the highest heights, laughing at the failure of the LSPD and at their own sick achievements. They are many things, apart. But together, they are the Immortal Fake AH Crew. They are one with the city, they breathe as it breathes, their hearts beat in time with the flashing of the city lights. They own it and it owns them, and they will be there until they turn into legend and song…. the legends of the crew that owned Los Santos. The legend of the Fake AH.
Judgement jeremichael?
judgement: awakening, resurrection, absolution;“Why did you have to do this?!”
(so uuhhh went with kings au because that’s the big au I have for jeremichael. Also I am sorry its still v short.)
“Why did you have to do this?”
The words are whispered from Jeremy’s lips, breathed onto Michael’s limp hand as he cradles it between his. The candlelight flickered, sending long shadows around them as Jeremy sits in the bed. As Michael’s chest rises and falls, as his body is far too pale, as he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t do anything but lay there, resting under blankets and head supported by feathered pillows.
Jeremy sighs, kissing his knuckles before laying his hand back down, reaching to brush through Michael’s curls, deflated and greasy now with how long he’s been on bed rest. With how long he’s been hurt.
Jeremy leans down, kissing his forehead, but Michael doesn’t stir at it, deep in sleep. They had given him a lot of healing potions after all. Enough to make sure he could sleep.
Jeremy should be sleeping too. Should be catching up on any sleep he can get. But he couldn’t sleep. Not when every time he closes his eyes he sees his husband’s blood spilling everywhere. Sees the flash of metal, hears the howl of pain. Sees him falling, collapsing, crashing to the floor, all for a strike that wasn’t meant for him. From a knife that should have been Jeremy’s to take.
Jeremy sighs, lowering himself to lay down besides Michael at least, careful to not brush over where the bandages cover his side.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Jeremy whispers again, resting his head gently against his shoulder. “Wish that you didn’t. I could’ve taken it. I should’ve been the one who got hurt.”
Jeremy huffs, nuzzling against him. “You aren’t allowed to fucking do this,” he grumbles against him. “Fucking scared the shit out of me. I thought… You almost –“ the words catch in his throat and Jeremy can’t bring himself to say it. “You aren’t allowed to leave me like this. I need you here with me. I love you.”
Michael’s even breathing is the only response Jeremy gets, the only response he expects. He kisses Michael’s cheek, hand squeezing lightly against his. Sleep still doesn’t come but he closes his eyes, letting Michael’s heartbeat lull him into some sort of rest. The steady, strong beat to show that he’s still alive. That his love is still here. That he hadn’t lost everything just yet.
Ryan leaning in mid heist and kissing Jeremys forehead, he is too giddy to notice that Ryan left a smudged lip print in facepaint on his forehead. He secretly loves it
haha yessss. Jeremy gets all the forehead kisses. and the boy loves them too, loves the soft sort of affection it always means. he doesn’t really mind that Ryan left a little smudge, even if the other Lads tease him on it
Gavin who is the most touch starved person ever but is very ashamed of saying so, it gets worse after heists and when he is hurt but he had very neglective parents who made him think craving affection=weakness so he feels like he can never tell the others. Of course the others find out and tell him otherwise and give him all the cuddles.
haha yess give the poor boy the bad backstories. he’s so touched starved it hurts but he’s also terrified of asking for even a hug. They aren’t generally the most touchy, just personality wise and in a job like theirs, he has to appear strong all the time. God forbid he show weakness when they’re fucking criminals. they probably figure it out sometime after gav gets hurt as is jacked up on pain meds. maybe its geoff or jack who brush gently through his hair, making sure he’s alright and gav nearly just cries because it feels so good and he needs it so bad and he just sort of clings like a child. he’s too far gone to care about hiding it in that moment and maybe later he can just blame the pain meds, but for now he pulls them down next to him and buries his head against their chest and just holds tighter than he’s ever held anyone before.
Alive jeremwood??
(this made me think of this post from @dikdickdik, so just here’s my twist on the start of this haha. hope u like angst! Warning: Major Character Death)
Ryan can only stare at the other side of the glass, watching as Jeremy frantically paces around the room he was held. He had been screaming for him before, but Jeremy couldn’t hear him. And with the lights off on his side, Jeremy couldn’t see him. Jeremy had no clue he was right there, as he can see his name being formed from his lips, can see his face growing redder and redder as he screams louder and louder. But it wasn’t being answered.
Ryan was resting his head against the glass, sighing at the sight of the other. He was hurt, something badly the ache seeping into him. He had tried to find a way out earlier, but at this rate he knew there wasn’t anything he could do.
And then the intercom in his room cracks, some voice alerting him to the people who had brought them here. Whoever had been the one who kidnapped them while they were fleeing from a heist. Ryan glances to the corner of room where the box speaks. “Only one of you gets to make it out of here alive.”
Ryan’s face drops and his eyes widen. His heart sinks to his feet as he whips around to face Jeremy who apparently hadn’t received any message of his own as he obliviously continues pacing his room. Oh god please. Please don’t let it be Jeremy, please don’t hurt him, don’t kill him please oh god--
“You get to decide,” the voice cuts into his panic.
Ryan doesn’t stop watching Jeremy as the light finally turns on in his room. Jeremy’s head whips around and finally they’re looking in each other’s eyes. God, those soft brown eyes Ryan can never get enough of. Jeremy rushes over to him, banging on the glass, shouting his name more and more. Ryan just reaches up a hand, foolishly trying to touch him, feel his warmth, hear his voice, anything. But there’s nothing but the cold glass and empty screams. But at least he got to look into his eyes once more.
“What’s your decision?” the voice says behind him. “Who is going to be the one to die?”
Ryan doesn’t even hesitate, brushing a hand across the glass where Jeremy’s cheeks are. He watches those worried but loving eyes as he answers. “Me.”
one word prompt
when link no longer works, event is over.
