This belongs to my NextGen StarAU where Fluttershy and Discord form a weird little family.
~~~♡
Backstory:
When Lux hatched from his egg at five months; ahead of schedule, Fluttershy and Discord put all their parenting knowledge to the test.
Lux from the very beginning was very unruly and full of energy, and another detail not less important, he was a creature born from the God of Chaos! Therefore, very dangerous. When Fluttershy realized that maybe, and only maybe, she had a baby capable of destroying worlds because of a tantrum, she almost died of nerves. But Discord, calm, soothed his wife's anxiety with hot chocolate and a few massages, and proceeded to tell her that, in fact, her mother, inherited millenary techniques for her future child to expend energy without destroying a city in between, such as, for example:
- Throwing the baby off a cliff and having him fall many meters by himself.
- Holding it by its tail so that it is upside down and spinning it around.
- Hitting yourself to make the child laugh his head off. For some reason, baby draconequus find violence funny.
Techniques that, to Lux's mother, were not very funny...
But despite all odds, it seemed that with a few kisses and cuddles, the unruly nature of the baby creature was appeased, so using such dangerous maneuvers was not necessary... in most cases.
~~~♡
First post here!
I always wanted to upload my drawings and stories on this site, but I never managed to have consistency! I'm taking advantage of the fact that my mental health is improving so I can upload more stuff and create new platforms, so I don't get overwhelmed with my main feed, Instagram.
Alternatively, "In which Patrick beats up Pete, also there's that one song from the 90's".
If you haven't read chapter 1, you can do so here, and the official AU blog is up as well! Follow that over here.
Remember that likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated, and thank you so much for following my story!
Pete's expression on the entirety of the drive to his Chicago apartment resembled exactly that of an irritated mother driving her teenage son home from school after he had done something completely, utterly fucked up. This kid, this "Patrick" was Pete's teenage son in that metaphor.
Pete really couldn't help but wonder what was going on in this kid's head. It was all happening fast, too fast. It reminded Pete of the race he went to with his father when he was younger, all kinds of colors swirling in a sort of motion that didn't seem possible. It was still really goddamn early, that was one thing. And this kid just decides he can fuck around, pretend to be an angel, and waste Pete's sweet time? No, no, Patrick wasn't getting away with this, he was getting himself into a world of troubl--
"What kind of music is this?" Patrick's voice was surprisingly sweet, quiet, harmonic, beautiful. Like a symphony. Not what Pete expected.
Pete's train of thought completely derailed, and he simply sat for a minute trying to recall the question. When he found his voice, it came out in broken, fractured pieces. "Uh. I? I don't know, this is the pop station.. y'know.. *NSYNC? Your boy, JT?"
Patrick stared at Pete with a look of ultimate confusion, and Pete laughed, one of those quick chuckles where you just kind of smile slightly and shake for a few seconds with barely any sound coming out. He kept his eyes on the road and shook his head, still grinning. "Wait, I forgot. You're from the sky! Aren't you? You're an angel, of course you don't know what music is, of course." Pete was cracking up. He hadn't slept in days, this was hilarious. *NSYNC was hilarious. He was hilarious..
Patrick still looked hurt as they pulled up to the parking garage and stepped out of Pete's car, a 2000 Ford Taurus with chipped paint near the windows and broken windshield wipers. "I'm not an angel, I'm a star." Patrick's voice was shaky and pained, but Pete raised an eyebrow and kept going. "Really? Send me a postcard when you get back to Jupite---"
Patrick grabbed Pete by the left wrist, spun him around and pinned him against the driver's-side door of the car. His cheeks were rosy and tears stained his face. "Leave me alone! Just leave me alone. I don't have anywhere to go, you're all I have and the least you can do is help me. Please help me.."
Patrick loosened his grip and let go of Pete, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans and walking out towards the building, breath shaky and unsteady. Pete's expression softened.
"Listen.. kid.. I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I just don't understand.." Patrick ignored him and kept walking, eventually waiting for Pete when they got to the 3rd floor, like he had said. Pete turned the key and opened the door to the apartment.
There were lots of empty bottles, stained sheets, jars of peaches (this one confused Patrick to no end) and clothes spread haphazardly across the living area.
“Uh. You know. Here’s your, uh. Joe. And Andy.” Joe and Andy nodded as Pete said their names. “Joe, Andy. Patrick.” He looked like he wanted to leave immediately. “Have fun-” Pete started to open the door when Patrick took off his jacket and shirt to reveal the scarred remains of two wings running down his back with some kind of dark blue substance. Everyone in the room paused and stared at Patrick as he laughed grimly and walked off.
