PSL || poe/odin

[shadowglitter]

WAY TO REJECT ME YOU FLIGHTY AIRBORN PIECE OF SHIT! WAY TO FUCK EVERYTHING UP FOR ME AND MY HEART, FOREVER AND EVER, ALWAYS UNTIL FOREVER



HEY YO YOU TOLD ME TO WRITE A LIST SO GUESS WHAT!!!!!! IT'S TIME FOR US TO GET FUNKY AS FUUUUUUCKKKKKKKK

god i am not going to bother formatting this

TO DO LIST:
1. SEXTING FROM BOOT CAMP ringverse AU
2. prince/concubine AU - owain's the prince, poe's a concubine to the king, paranoia and political assassination ensues, etc etc etc etc etc
3. vampire hooker AU?? owain gonna get his gothic goth goth dick wet in that spooky vampire butt
4. HAHA BOOM WE'RE DOING IT I LINKED THE POST DOWN THERE
5. enemies of war AU - owain's a good guy on the bad guy side who almost loses his life trying to save poe even though he's an enemy soldier, poes like What, Shit, Damn, gay shit ensues
6. HNENENGH
7. ANGELS AND DEMONSSSSSSsss
8. 20s AU///?? YES. YES ALRIGHT
9. WW1 AU WHATS Up
10. ?? there was something that was supposed to go here from the kink meme
11. samurai champloo AU what up. chon'sin. Shit
12. bBODYSWAPPpappapp


long-term AU posts:

⚔⛉☆ PLEDGED

Comments

Moulin Fucking Rouge AU

[flightforfreedom]

This is a stupid idea.

Poe Dameron was used to a lot of stupid ideas - the scar that was etched permanently into his back now was proof of that - but this one was something else entirely. The first stupid part of this idea was wanting to do any of it at all: wanting to build a new flying machine, wanting to get back in the sky.

It was stupid enough to want to do that, let alone to end up concocting a massive scheme with a dwarf and his hedonistic friends to find the funding to build a new aeroplane from the Moulin Rouge. (It was even more stupid if he knew just how much the place was hurting for money.)

But a series of bad decisions and too much absinthe had led him here - standing in the middle of one of the most lavish suites of the entire club, fiddling with the bow tie at his throat. He could do this.

All he had to do was convince Odin Dark to talk to Ziedler on his behalf, and then everything would fall into place from there. Right?

He let out a breath, looking at the door, and then walked over to one of the lavish drapes, pulling at the deep blue fabric with his fingertips. Huh. Silk. And a really nice silk, too- there was enough silk in this room that he'd be able to build half an aeroplane out of this stuff al--

Without warning, the door opened, and he immediately let go of the fabric and cleared his throat.

[shadowglitter]

They call the male courtesans around here chevaliers, a word which always sticks in Odin's throat when he tries to say it. It's-- shameful, to refer to himself with a word typically reserved for knights, men with honor and strength and purpose. He, a prince with a fake name, a man who stained so much of his blood and his nobility by turning to a life like this one after his country fell to ruin, has none of those things.

But he tries to live up to the concept, as best as he can. Knights are refined, charismatic. They throw everything they have into doing the things they love, which - shamed as he should be to admit it - is kind of how he feels about this job. The attention he gets, the praise, the way people want him and the way he's encouraged to want them back - fuck, he loves it all and he took to this like a duck in water. Another thing knights do is politely hold their tongue, when a stranger is in their bedchambers poking around at all their shit. They also, well - serve the rich and the powerful, and as Odin enters his room and raises an eyebrow at the man threading through his silks, he realizes that this must be the duke who has been booking and re-booking with him for weeks.

"Ah - welcome."

He doesn't waste time in showing his intentions. He was hired for a job, the poor guy looks nervous, and he can fix that. Poe's the king inside these four walls, and Odin is his servant, dressed in nothing but blue, form fitting silks that drape way too low and show far too much. He closes the distance between the two of them and gives him a quick once-over, tilting his head like Poe's a particularly interesting piece of art. He notices Poe's bowtie, crooked and out of place after he was fidgeting with it as he waited. Odin reaches forward and undoes Poe's it as slowly as he can, drawing out every tug and pull of those long, slender fingers, and then he ties it again, laughing softly as he straightens it and pats down Poe's shoulders.

"Much better." He tilts his head again. "You seem nervous."