#like it feels very fair + the fight patterns are easier to pick up than most rogue bosses tbh. im a little clumsy bc i dont play many | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

Saw requests were open so here I am! 😊

I’d love to request headcannons of the Demon Brothers + Undatables (If you can, if not you can just do the Brothers) from Obey Me reacting to an MC that has Galaxy eyes. Their eyes are a glossy purple-blue, they have star-like pupils that changes patterns everytime they blink, and rather than blush red; They blush purple and get mini constellations across their face and ears. If they cry, their tears are hella sparkly too! MC has baby pictures/family photos to prove their eyes are natural and run in the family.

YOOOO!! As someone who has zodiac sign related OCs, and that loves the stars, this is such a wonderful prompt~❤️

Since this involves many characters, it’ll be under the cut and slightly shorter per character than previous hcs, but hopefully still enjoyable

HEADS UP! This includes spoilers for lessons ~14-15 (and has yandere themes in someone's belphie's part)

Here you go, luv!

-- -- --

OVERVIEW

Alright, so it’s a little obvious all the character are surprised with the looks of this human

Some are easier to convince it’s natural, while others think it’s a product of permanent magic/demon contracts

Needless to say, all of them get lost in MC’s eyes

All of them try to make them blush or cry, in their own special ways, to see their full beauty

💙👿 Lucifer 🖋️

“Apologies if my stare unsettles you.” He took their hand and placed a kiss upon their knuckles, “Your eyes are simply magnificent. I find myself unable to look away.”

The first thing that crosses Luci’s mind when he meets them is “Which demon did they sign a contract with to look like that?”

I think this one will try to fight back the urge to stare at them and be mesmerized by their beauty

Eventually, he just gives up and lets his eyes wander to their face and examine the sparkling stars

Whether he does it on purpose or not, Lucifer makes MC blush that lovely shade of wine purple. Always a gift to see the constellations that show up in their dark flush

Likes to stroke their face, especially run his thumb along their cheek and try to feel the shining lights on their skin

Will try to point out the constellations and stars he recognizes

💛😈 Mammon 💰💸

“Whu-? Huh?! No, no! Absolutely not! I-I wasn’t looking at ya because of the shining stars in your eyes… but, uh… Could ya maybe look into my eyes for a moment? Please?”

Oh god… when Mammon meets them, one and only one thought crosses his mind: If human limbs were already sought after in the Devildom market… How much money would this LIVE human with stars in their eyes cost?

(yup, let’s face it, folks… Mammon may be one of the very first sweethearts we see in game, but he’s still a demon, one very greedy demon)

Just let him see their tears. Boy, may any omnipotent force help them because he WILL try to make them cry just to see how much demons, witches and wizards pay for their sparkly tears

But then~ Whatever was left of his tender angel heart crumbled when he succeeded the first time. Never did it again and never collected any tears to sell

Mammon likes to explore their skin for more constellations. Arms, hands, shoulders, legs, feet, neck, anything they allow to touch!

What he loves most? Making them cry out of laughter and seeing little glittering drops roll down their cheeks, which he then proceeds to wipe away

Always gets lost in their eyes, but denies he was staring

🧡👿 Leviathan 🎮

“You’re just like an anime character! Wait, could it be that.. the author was inspired by your ancestor?!”

BOY OH BOY LEVI’S ELATED

Seriously, once his contract’s done and he accepts them into his room, he won’t ever stop examining their cheeks and eyes (with respect, of course, he knows how weird and uncomfortable it is to be observed so intently)

You know the first thing he did was introduce them to his anime characters that have features similar to them

GUESS WHAT??? HE ADORES WHEN THEY LIGHT UP HIS ROOM WITH THEIR CONSTELLATIONS!

Makes sure to watch super cheesy lovely shoujo, romantic, and cute anime/movies just so he can see how the blush darkens their cheeks and ears

Levi already zoned out when watching Henry’s big aquarium, he 100% does so too when watching the patterns in their eyes shift with each blink

The otaku musters all his courage, when feeling brave enough, to place a kiss on their cheeks bc they’re just too adorable (both proceed to flush deep red/purple)

💚 Satan 👿📖

“Wonderful… Thank you for showing me the night sky. It’s even more breathtaking when through your eyes.”

Alright, there are pictures that prove it’s all natural… but, where are the written records of space-filled humans? He gets to researching (if he finds proof or not, I leave it up to you)

Regardless, they’re an enigma to him, and he’d love to keep observing you up close

Oh, if only he could read and look at their face at the same time~

Satan may or may not have a secret notebook in which he records different occurrences that happened with MC and how he would describe their unique beauty in that moment

Many of his books and encyclopedias have maps of the sky, he’s taken up some constellations (which he points out, just like Lucifer pls don’t k word me satan)

I swear, this boy… Wants to see their beauty immortalized in writing, described in only the most wonderful ways by his favorite authors (“An honest opinion, your allure deserves to be eternally portrayed in books so every living being can imagine what splendor the world holds.”)

Hard for him to pick a favorite aspect of theirs, but he certainly is very curious what genes caused such phenotype

💗😈 Asmodeus 💋🦂

“That’s not fair! How am I to compete with someone with galaxy eyes?! S-Surely, we’re both ethereal in our own ways? ...But I’m clearly still #1!”

B O Y

One would think his first instinct was to try and seduce them… but oh no, no! For a moment there, Asmo thought he was Levi, feeling pure raw jealousy and envy at their magnificent eyes and glowing skin

He acted sweet and flirty just so his brothers wouldn’t suspect anything, but he felt terrible boiling magma in his stomach (why was he, a former angel, not blessed with looks as mesmerizing as theirs?)

It all changed once Asmo saw them awkwardly walk through RAD’s halls, littered with demons staring at their peculiar skin. Unwanted looks, intense stares, all of them varying in degrees of judgement. He remembered his first days as a demon, as a lust demon, how he disliked the stares at first. (“Looks like we’re not so different after all…”)

He went to their side, making light talk to take their attention off the stares. A human’s blush was never this beautiful before.

It was then when he became a little obsessed with throwing compliments their way to see the tips of their ears turn purple with little glittering spots

Asmodeus would adore to explore their entire body. Like, really, he wonders if their other… parts prone to blood rushes have the same purple tint

Allow him and he’ll cover every single little star on their skin with kisses

Asmo went from despising them to adoring every bit of them, but if he has to pick, their skin is his favorite

❤️👿 Beelzebub 🍔🤤

“Blink… Blink again… Once more... “ A very tender smile graced his lips, “Belphie would definitely adore your eyes.”

“But for me,” He wrapped his arms around them and lifted them up the ground, “Your blush whenever I hold you close is my favorite!”

Like, really peeps, Beel immediately remembers his twin’s fascination with stars and the night sky when his eyes land on MC

It’s strange, but he feels at peace whenever this star filled human is with him

Beel isn't much to care for looks, but wow… this is one very interesting human

When you guys were helping Luke, he definitely stared at the flickering lights on their cheeks and ears to find sleep (and in that moment, he felt Belphie's and Lilith's calming presence with him once more)

They once cried of laughter due to some food incident, and WOW that is so pretty

May or may not have asked them if he could taste their tears asdfgjdi "They look tasty"

Always tries to surprise them with food and hugs once he noticed they blush constellations

Probably the only thing able to make him eat slower is watching the shifting starts in their eyes

💜👿 Belphegor 🛏️💤

"I...uhm…" He blushed lightly, "[Name], could you please look at me? Stars are my favorite...and you, your eyes..." Belphegor is at a total loss of words at the magic in their stare.

I'm going to delve into that before we get to the fluff so

SPOILERS FOR LESSON 16 / YANDERE BELPHIE AHEAD

Sure, he loved their eyes once he saw stars in them...but they are human

Boy, oh boy, did he ENJOY wholeheartedly seeing those glittering tears roll down their face as he took their life

"Say… Would you mind me taking your eyes out to keep as mine? They'll surely look nice hanging from my headboard"

"Is your blood star filled too? Let us see!"

Such a shame that it was a human who was blessed with such wonderful features~

END OF YANDERE (spoilers for other lessons continue)

After learning they're Lilith's descendant, he wonders if their stars are product of her angelic lineage

"Sister… is this your way of telling me to be happy? Bringing a human that is so kind and pretty into my life?" "You filled them with the stars I love so much… Thank you"

What DOESN'T he love about them? Eyes, cheeks, skin, all the flickering stars and shades of blue-purple they blush in, their pupils and eye color

But out of it all, he adores looking at their eyes as he falls asleep

Also likes to trace the stars on their skin, be it forming constellations or in random patterns

Tickle wars happen with him, Beel and MC to see the glittering liquid from how hard they're laughing

I seriously cannot express how much Belphie's in love with this whole human Fun, caring, intelligent, kind, adventurous, and just… plain perfect

😈 Lord Diavolo 👑

"I was not 'blessed' like the brothers to see clear skies in the Celestial Realm, and it's uncommon for me to go up into the human world." Diavolo sat close to them as Barbatos left after serving tea. "But I can say I'm far more blessed with you here to show me the stars." A handsome smile shaped his lips, widening after they blushed.

Honestly, Diavolo is hard to pin for me

Sure, he gets surprised by the human's looks, but welcomes them with open arms regardless

Actually enjoys their company because he gets to see a little piece of the night sky he gets to see very few times

When they show him their baby pictures to prove it's all natural and real, the Prince will take to share some of his own (just ‘cuz, to bond)

He likes to make them laugh, if not to see the small shining tears, to see their face flush dark purple and show constellations

Their presence is calming

He sometimes comes with the request of sitting together so he can see their starry eyes to help him settle down and relax

😈 Barbatos ☕

"These are very particular features… Perhaps I should visit the past to know what led to this?" The butler pondered. "No, I certainly wouldn't like my actions to alter timelines and prevent you from being here." A polite, yet teasing, smirk came to his face.

Like Satan, Barbatos would want to find written records of the existence of other starry humans

Very curious what caused this in a human, but he himself hypothesizes it's due to the angelic lineage

Likes to say flirty things to make them flush, he chuckles every time

Is very interested to see the magical potential their tears have for potions and protection charms

Curious to see if their tears can be used in food preparations (thinks his special tea would look even better with some of their tears added to it)

With how his ability is time travel, Barbatos likes to (privately) call himself Time while he dubs MC Space

He likes their blushes most

😇 Simeon 📖

"If only I had met you sooner, I would've included you in my books. Your character would've been adored by many; not just because of appearance, but also due to your kind heart."

Simeon likes that there's a little piece of sky here with him

He's also one to wonder if their looks are due to Lilith's blood, will have to do some research back in the Celestial Realm

Is always complimenting their eyes

Half expected their eyes to reflect the actual sky at different hours (dawn, evening, dusk, sundown, etc.)

Whenever he stumbles upon a cute star or moon shaped accessory or sweater, he buys it as a gift for them

Likes their eyes the most. He's an angel and has seen many interesting pairs of eyes in his heavenly siblings, but none as breathtaking as theirs

His time writing TSL may be coming to an end, but poetry is always an option to share his admiration for MC with the world~

😇 Luke 🧁🎂

"Hey hey! Michael used to say my eyes look like sunrise!" The small one exclaimed with a big smile, "I'm dawn and you're the night!" Luke giggled.

OMG, THIS CUTIE 🥺💕

Forgive him for staring longer than is welcomed, he's just very amazed by their looks!

He's seen angels with sparkles in their hair and wings, but to see a human with stars and night sky on their skin!!! Is fascinating!

Luke is very grateful to have met MC, he just feels super blessed to know someone as unique as them!

Will use them as inspiration for cookie and cake decorating

Another one curious about what their tears can add to desserts

But don't worry! So long as MC is in his line of sight, he will not allow a single tear to be shed!

To make sure no demon endangers them, this little angel will do his best to protect MC!

He adores their eyes and always asks to look at them ("You can look at mine in return! And see the daybreak Michael sees in them!")

🧙🏻‍♂️ Solomon 🔮

"Oh? What is this I see, a rival?" The wizard chuckled, "We can share the starry sky aesthetic, I don't mind."

SPACE 🤝 AESTHETIC 🤝🤝🤝

He immediately fires a lot of questions their way to find as much information as he can about their looks, magical power, and magical properties of their peculiar features

While the rest just wonder what their tears can do, Solomon is the fearless soul to actually ask for a sample to conduct tests with

If they become close, Solomon will find a way to preserve one of their tears to carry with him at all times

Yup, you guessed it! His favorite feature is their tears

...he makes them shed quite the handful with the cooking he gives as thanks for the samples lol

This one wonders if they are also star filled on the inside...as in, their tissues and organs (and blood)

But worry not, unless he’s given permission, Solomon will keep his hands to himself

-- -- --

Sorry if this is so short Dx

And aah...sorry for including yandere themes, but it just fit and was interesting to think of~

Still, hope this was enjoyable

Thank you for the request!!

528 notes · View notes

akingdomofswordsandstories · 3 years

Text

Unrequited

azriel (acotar) x reader

Summary: takes place during acofas, you and Azriel are mates but he doesn’t know it yet, angst, fluff, and everything in between

*Also this is my first imagine ever so I'm sorry if it sucks lol! There will be a part 2 to this, but I am still working on it!!

word count: 3927

---------------------------------

The winter solstice was in a few days and you weren’t sure what to get some of the inner circle. You walked briskly down the streets of the Rainbow, chilled to the bone due to the wind. You had made the dumb mistake of rushing out of the townhouse - to avoid any questions of where you were going - without taking your scarf. Your current outfit, which was a chunky knit blue sweater with leggings and boots, wasn’t enough to keep the chill away. But the cold wasn’t the most important thing on your mind. You had already bought presents for Rhys, Feyre, Amren, and Elain, but that left Cassian, Mor, and Azriel. Mor and Cass would be pretty easy to buy for, but you put it off knowing they would look through your room trying to find their solstice gift. But Azriel, that would be much harder.

Every waking hour, the shadowsinger haunted your thoughts. Something you had come to conclude was unrequited.

You had realized the mating bond between you two before he did.

It had clicked a few months ago while on a diplomatic mission. The aftermath of Hybern had left things chaotic, and if you were being honest, it still was. Rhys decided to send Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and you to travel to some of the other courts to bring back reports on the recovery after the war. However, traveling did have some dangers. While you were on your way back to Velaris from the Winter Court, your group was ambushed by a group of Hybern soldiers who had been hiding out in the mountains. Had it not been for Azriel’s wings shielding you from the initial arrows, you would’ve surely been dead, and that’s when it clicked for you. But like an idiot, you didn’t say anything.

You had thought if the bond had clicked for you, it would've clicked for Azriel too. You realized your mistake when Azriel hadn’t acknowledged any change between you two. You hoped that he would figure it out in the coming weeks, but he didn’t. You knew the same sort of situation happened with feyre and rhys so you still held out some hope. But as the months went by, and you realized the bond still hadn’t clicked for Azriel and it felt too late to tell him.

At least that was the excuse you made up. Truly, you were also afraid of the rejection that could have followed. You weren’t a fool, you knew him and Elain had some sort of connection, and that shattered your dreams even more. The possibility that he wouldn’t accept the mating bond to be with the fair skinned, doe eyed fae. Everytime Azriel was in the same room as Elain, she was the only thing he would pay attention to. During gatherings, you would plaster on a smile and act as if you were happy, but Cassian and Mor, your best friends, could sense your discomfort. They tried to ask you about it, but seeing as you would shut down anything they said, they decided not to pry too much. Amren ended up figuring out the source of your discomfort had to do with Azriel, but kept your secret until you would be ready to share it.

You came to the conclusion that distancing yourself from him would be the best option, so that's what you did.

You walked down the street till you got to one of the finest seamstresses is Velaris. Since you were an artist like Feyre, you decided to draw out a dress and have it made for Mor. The color was blood red, her signature. It was a silk slip dress that would come down to her mid-lower calf and it would be embroidered with a brilliant gold thread. You drew out a pattern of the sun, stars, and moon, which you hoped she would like. To go along with Mor’s dress, you got a jeweler to make a custom necklace and bracelet set to go with it. You designed more dainty jewelry that had gold stars with diamonds, since she was a dreamer.

You decided to design Cassian’s gift as well, creating a beautiful silver and black dagger with a moonstone on the hilt. It was a beautiful dagger, but you also made sure it was usable, because you would hate for it to go to waste. To add onto the combat theme, you also decided to buy him new fighting leathers with touches of red embroidery to match his siphons. Lastly, you bought Cassian a bottle of fae wine, which definitely wouldn't last long.

The last thing you got for all three of you was a friendship necklace. Although that sounds corny, the two of them had become such a positive force in your life and you couldn’t imagine life without them. Keeping with the celestial theme for the friendship necklaces, you bought a sun, a moon, and a star. The sun for Cassian, the moon for Mor, and the star for you. Although they are opposites in some ways, all three need each other, just like the three of you needed each other.

Now that you had gotten Mor’s and Cassian’s solstice gifts figured out, it was onto Azriel’s gift. You honestly had no clue what to get him. Due to distancing yourself, you weren’t sure if there was something that he wanted. You were positively stumped. Lucky for you though, you ended up spotting Mor in another shop a few stores down from where you were, most likely getting the rest of her solstice gifts. You decided to sneak up on her as a friendly prank. Grabbing her shoulders, you yelled in her ear, making her jump.

“Oh mother above, it’s just you, y/n! You scared the life out of me” Mor said.

“Doing some last minute shopping?” you asked. “I could ask you the same thing”. Giving her a playful smack on the arm, the corners of your mouth curled upward, even the simplest remark from her could make you smile.

The two of you were currently standing in front of a jewelry shop, looking at the collections of necklaces and earrings through the window. “Wow” you breathed out “These are all so beautiful”

“Indeed they are, although they’re quite pricey”

“How pricey is pricey?”

She whispered the amount in your ear and you stopped breathing for a second, “Holy Mother wow, that is quite the price tag. At least we can admire it from a far”, you laughed out. Even though you got a very generous salary from Rhys, you still felt guilty spending so much money on materialistic things.

After a moment you said, “Actually, since you’re here, I do need help finding a solstice gift for Azriel”, softening your voice at the end, “Any ideas?” you asked, drawing out the syllables.

“Well, I always get Azriel some cool towels, clothing, or a dagger!” Mor said. A small scoff came out of my mouth as I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. “Fine!” she exclaimed, “I may have overheard him needing a new leather sheath for Truth Teller.” grumbling towards the end. “Oh that sounds great, thank you for the help! Now let’s go off to the closest leather goods store and find a sheath!”.

“y/n! I still have shopping to do” a scowl appearing on her face. “Fine, I guess I’ll just call Cassian, cause his judgement might be better than yours, when it comes to knife related things of course” you said, baiting her.

“Ugh, I hate you y/n”

“I hate you too Mor”

“Fine, let's get going before I change my mind” she grumbled. Then we took off down the streets of the Rainbow to find a sheath.

The task was easier said than done, for you at least. Being indecisive and a major over thinker, you had looked through close to 100 sheaths, but none of them seemed good enough to hold the blade that Azriel never let anyone else touch. Except Elain.

While you were lost in your thoughts, you laid your y/c eyes on the perfect sheath. It had a bright cobalt blue stitching to match Az’s siphons. Along the tip and lining the top of the leather was a thin coat of silver plating with little sapphires embedded in the metal. You quickly snatched it up and paid a hefty price for it, but it was perfect.

“Thank god you finally picked one, it felt like we were in that store for centuries”. Mor sighed, probably a sigh of relief for getting out of the store, “But y/n, it’s perfect, I know Azriel will love it”

“Do you really think so? I just want it to be the perfect gift and I’m scared he won’t like it because what if it’s too simplistic and what if-”

“Hey! It's perfect! Don’t stress too much y/n. And for the record, I think that you’re an amazing gift giver - the amount of thought you put into gifts make it all the better.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and mumbled a small thank you.

“Anyway while we’re here do you need to get anything to go with your solstice outfit?”

“Oh Actually, I was so stressed about getting everyone’s solstice gift that I forgot to buy my dress” your voice falling off at the end. You felt yourself being yanked to a harsh stop and the saw Mor’s face staring at yours, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

“Are you crazy?? Solstice is in 3 days and you still don’t have anything??? Oh honey, our shopping isn’t done yet.” And with that statement you found yourself being pulled into the nearest dress shop. After trying on nearly 20 dresses you finally found the perfect one, which Mor approved. It was a light blue silk dress that was more fitted at the top but flared down at your waist. It had a cowl neckline, a slit going up the side to the mid upper thigh, and accentuates your curves beautifully and has a slight shimmer to it. You looked ethereal in it

---------------------------------

After your exhausting day of shopping, you couldn’t wait to get out of the cold. You swiftly walked back to the townhouse. Once inside you made your way to your room to set down the gifts, change your clothes, and grab your book. Then you quietly headed down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the couch to read. The house was quiet since all of the others decided to go to Rita’s tonight. You decided to stay home for some much needed relaxation. You opened your book and started reading. After a few hours, you felt your eyes drooping and eventually, sleep consumed you.

The loud noise of the front door caused you to stir and your eyes fluttered open. You were too exhausted to look so you just laid your head back down and tried to go to sleep. You could hear Mor whispering something and then felt yourself being lifted off the couch and being held close to a chest with your blanket still draped on you.

“Cass?” you whispered hoarsely along with a string of incoherent words

You heard a slight laugh “Not Cass but It’s ok, go back to sleep”. Then you felt yourself being gently placed on your bed and the sleep hit you before you could mutter a thank you.

---------------------------------

The sun was setting towards the sea as you sat in the sitting room of the town house. You were in your blue silk dress with a glass of wine in your hand. Rhys and Feyre were by the mantel, quietly talking while Mor and Amren were across the room. Near the window I saw Elain, and from the corner of my eye I could see Azriel making his way towards her. My face fell but I quickly plastered on a smile, not wanting to concern anyone. Especially since today was also Feyre’s birthday and we had planned a surprise for her. Feyre thought she could slip her birthday past us, but we hadn’t forgotten. After a few minutes, Cassian made his way from the kitchen with the enormous cake.

You floated towards Feyre and gave her arm a light squeeze. “Happy Birthday, make a wish before the candles melt!”

She blew out the candles and then we ate cake before opening up the presents.

---------------------------------

Rhys snapped his fingers and piles of brightly wrapped bags and boxes filled up the sitting room. Amren was the first to open her presents. Naturally, everyone got her something jewelry related. Amren opened mine and you saw a wide smile set across her face, she picked up the diamond necklace and nodded a ‘thank you’ your way. You returned the gesture back, a small smile forming on your face.

Next, Cassian handed Mor her present from him and she pulled out a-. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He bought her red lingerie. Your face turned slightly red, but the Mor said “Don’t let him fool you: he couldn’t think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.”

Then, you heard one sharp knock at the door.

Nesta.

You saw Cassian tense up a bit. Nesta walked in, linking arms with Elain. She got a glass of wine before heading to sit in a chair in the back of the room. The silence was deafening. Finally Varian started talking and the present opening resumed.

From Amren, you received a new calligraphy set. It was so beautiful and you loved it. From Rhys, you got some books. It was perfect since you loved to read, and they were ones that you had been wanting to read for a long time. From Feyre, you received a painting as well as a new paint brush kit.

Cassian made his way to you and set a gift down in your lap. You opened the dark blue box that Cassian had placed in your lap. He had gotten you a sky blue hardbound journal with a gold embossed star on it. You desperately needed a new one, and this was perfect. You walked over and gave him a hug, whispered “Thank you, I love it.”.

Next you opened Mor’s present. You nearly choked when you saw what she got you and your whole face heated up. She got you a matching navy blue lingerie set like the one Cassian bought her.

“Yeah, I wasn’t too sure what to get you so I thought we could twin”. You looked around the room and saw the others holding in their laughs. You could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of red on Azriel’s ears. You just smiled and mouthed a silent “I’m going to kill you, but thank you” at her.

There wasn’t anything from Azriel. Your heart twinged. Had you not been important enough? It was just a present you reminded yourself, fixing your composure before handing Cassian his present.

He ripped it open like an animal, squealing when he saw it. A promising reaction given the amount of thought you put into it.

“Did you design these? They look amazing!”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it. It took a long time to figure out what to get for your dumb ass”

“You mean my cute ass”, you smacked his arm and then got up to give Mor her present.

You closely watched her reaction as she opened her dress and jewelry, a large smile spreading across her face.

“You really buy the perfect presents y/n, I love it”.

“Oh Cass, Mor. One more thing.” You pulled out the small boxes with the friendship necklaces and bracelets handing it to them. “This was just a little something extra I thought of, I hope you like it”. You knew you would have started stuttering and crying if you had said the meaning to them, so you just handed them notes instead. They read over them, eyes glossing over, and pulled you into a hug.

“This is the only time I’ll wear jewelry” Cass stated, causing you to chuckle

Then Mor said, “I am never taking this off” causing you to laugh again.

Finally, Azriel opened up his presents. He had opened up all the others. All that was left was yours and Elain’s gift to him. He found his way to your present first, opening it.

“A new sheath for Truth Teller. I heard you needed a new one” you quietly said.

He held your gaze and smiled, “Thank you, it's great”. Suddenly feeling exposed, you quickly gave him a nod.

Then he went to open Elain’s gift. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” she said.

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

You hadn’t heard him laugh before, and mother above it was gorgeous. You had never heard a sound so deep and joyous, a sound which made your heart clench. A part of you wished you were the reason he was laughing. You forced on a smile and spent the rest of the night drinking away the slight pain in your chest.

You were exhausted by the end of the night, sitting on the couch with Cassian and Mor, Azriel and Rhys seated on the opposite side of you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement towards the door, and craned your head to see what was going on. It was Nesta making her way to the door. You felt the couch lift next to you.

Cassian. He had swiftly pushed past Feyre and went after Nesta. This wouldn’t end well.

---------------------------------

Cassian had come back quiet and brooding, walking straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of liquor. You got up off the couch and followed him straight into the kitchen.

“Cass, let’s take a walk, yeah?”

“I just took a walk”

“It wasn’t a question”. You grabbed a white shawl and his hand and led him outside. “What happened?”

“What’s there to talk about? It was like all the other times. Why did I have to fall in love with someone who doesn't even love me back. Who looks at me like the Illyrian born bastard I am. Who hates the idea of being in the same room as me.”

You grabbed Cass’ hand, lightly squeezing it. “Don’t say that. Nesta, she,” your voice stopping for a second “She’s different. The way she handles pain and copes is different. Give her time. She just needs time. I know how much that may pain you, but you can’t rush healing”

You pulled him into a hug

“And for the record, I know the feeling more than you know” you quietly said “unrequited love”, head pointed at the ground.

Cassian tilted his head down to look at you, his face painted with confusion. You could tell he wanted to know more, but didn’t want to pry too much.

You hesitated before continuing, not sure if you wanted to reveal your closely guarded secret. “I-“ your voice faltering, “I found my mate”. The words seemed to have rushed out of your mouth and tears pricked your eyes as you said that. After months of hiding it, you had finally gotten it off your chest.

Cassian stood shocked, staring at you. “You found your mate? And you didn’t think to tell any of us? How long ago was this”

“I-, I found out who he was around the same time Rhys sent us on that diplomatic mission. And I didn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t even know yet.”

“That was almost 6 months ago, and you didn’t say anything?”.

The tears had started flowing at this point, “I thought he would figure it out. But by the time I realized he wasn’t going to figure it out, it was too late. He had already set his eyes on someone else. And I know I could never compete with Elain, even if I am his mate.” the last part slipped out without you realizing.

“Elain? What does she-“ his eyes widening “Does that mean Az is-“

You slowly nodded, tears welled up, threatening to spill out.

“Oh, mother…”, he pulled you into a tighter hug and that’s when the gates broke. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you sobbed into Cassian's chest, his hand stroking your back.

you must have been there for 15 minutes before you realized the other might start getting suspicious. Regaining your composure, you dried your tears and tried, to the best of your ability, to hide that you had been crying.

Looking back at Cassian, you gave him a slight smile before muttering, “Thank you. I’m sorry for dumping that on you, but please promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Of course y/n, and don’t apologize, if it makes you feel better, it helped to take my mind off of Nesta and my own problems, which I desperately needed” he chuckled out.

With the smile still on your face, you linked arms with Cassian before saying, “Oh mother above it’s freezing, let’s get back inside before we turn into popsicles!”

He let out another laugh before the two of you made your way back into the house.

---------------------------------

You walked into the house and your sliver of happiness was crushed as you saw Az and Elain sitting at the table smiling and laughing quietly to themselves. Elain had her sketchbook out, showing Az her plans for the garden.

Your distraught had been clear to anyone who saw your face, and you were too tired to realize you weren’t able to hide it fast enough. Not being able to view the scene anymore, you quickly got up, muttered happy solstice, and grabbed your coat and purse before heading out the door to your apartment.

While walking home, you were consumed by your thoughts. You hated the pangs of jealousy that coursed through you. You often found yourself jealous of her soft spokenness and kindness. You also found yourself jealous of her effortless beauty. It was something that kept you up at night. She was so likeable and easily approachable, something you wished you were.

You were so drowned in your own thoughts that you hadn’t noticed a male following you till it was too late. One of his hands clamped on your mouth while the other grabbed your waist and pushed you into the nearest alleyway.

The male pulled out a knife and your tears started to fall. You were terrified about what he would do to you. This could be the last time you would have seen your family. You were struggling and kicking against him but it was no use. Your senses were groggy from the alcohol and drowsiness.

You had been so stupid to walk home alone at 2 in the morning. No matter how angry you were, you should’ve just stayed at the town house.

Before you could realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain shoot through your side.

The sound of a clatter.

Receding footsteps.

A crimson stain blooming.

Your body crumpled to the ground and your vision started blacked out. This was it. Nobody could hear you and nobody could save you.

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel #cassian #imagine #sarah j maas #azriel acotar x reader

869 notes · View notes

mostly-mundane-atla · 3 years

Note

OMG! Please, I want to know your Freedom Fighter dynamic HCs!!!! 🙏🏽

Well, if I must lol (i could talk about this for hours who am I kidding)

I don't feel like having to slap any of my usual warnings on this, so it may be a bit vague. I'm also going to repeat some headcanons I've already written on other posts because they're relevent here.

Though of course the Freedom Fighters are first and foremost an anti-Fire Nation resistance cell (even if they are just kids, they got a pretty clear mission statement) they will pick up strays. War orphans are plentiful and quite a few manage to make their way out of the slaughter and well past the treeline. They recognize Jet as the leader and when they're woken up by vivid nightmares, they will go to him for comfort. He's very used to it, to the point where he will tuck only one side of his blankets underneath himself to make it easier on them. He'll feel their faces asking "which one are you?" and warn them about the floors being slippery at night before singing them to sleep. It's pretty rare for these kids to stay. A lot of them try to find distant cousins in other villages to take them in. But they never forget the warm meals and the safety in the fort

Jet is the leader but he and Smellerbee have known each other the longest and she's automatically second in command. She also knows a good deal of herbal remedies and natural poisons. If anyone is sick, the group takes her orders first because she actually knows what she's doing

Longshot has grabbed everyone else's hand away from a hot pan and will do so again. Only the Duke has ever taken offense to it, but he got over it pretty quickly.

Pipsqueak and the Duke got on friendly terms pretty quickly because they'd be teamed up for foraging. Pipsqueak would keep the Duke on his shoulders, and the Duke would use this height boost to get into trees, where he'd pick fruit or search squirrels' stashes for food. This strategy is responsible for almost all of the acorn flour they had. The Duke has also mastered egg foraging with Pipsqueak's help, which has been incredibly valuabe to the food supply. He still needs to comb his hair though

Jet pulls splinters out with his teeth and doesn't warn anyone about it. It can catch the others off guard to suddenly feel his mouth on their skin after complaints, but many girls and more than a few boys they've crossed paths with have been absolutely flustered by it. This doesn't pass without any comment from whoever he's with. Even Longshot made a point to look away one time

Sneers wasn't really disliked by the others at all -- he was as loved and valued as any other member of the group -- but it came to be known that he had a harder time keeping quiet. He likes to tap out rhythms and whistle and hum. They helped him figure out that he can tap his own knuckles silently for the same effect, and it helped him in other ways. He comes up with a pattern and taps it out when observing soldiers. Recreating the pattern later helps him remember everything, down to the tone of voice, exact words, even how tall they were. When out scouting with others, they'll signal for him to start tapping his knuckles

The Duke and Smellerbee, being the smallest of the group, are the only ones who can make jokes about each other being small. Anyone else attempting to do so will get every last little flaw of theirs thoroughly mocked. Not just by the Duke or Smellerbee, that person becomes fair game for everyone.

Longshot was captured by Fire Nation soldiers when his village burned down, forced into servitude, and faced much physical abuse from his captors before joining. A result of this is that violence from within the group is very stressful for him. He can't even be around his friends sparring for too long and will get between them to break up fights because he can't stand to see it. Some time after the failed attempt and blowing up the dam, Pipsqueak got into a heated argument with Jet and threw a punch. Longshot caught his wrist, looked him dead in the eye, and said "Find another way, or leave." Everyone was taken aback by the rare voice and commanding presence he never showed before, and even Jet didn't see the need to endorse or correct him. Pipsqueak and the Duke split from the others not long after.

This one I refer to as the "amatonormative mess": that Smellerbee falls victim to the idea that relationships are supposed to work toward something and that after long enough of being close enough to someone, there's a certain kind of relationship owed to that person, especially between a boy and a girl. Jet woke up one night to her trying to kiss him on the lips and tried to let her down easy, pointing out how she looked like she didn't want to do this. She persisted and he snapped at her in frustration. He softened his reaction because how couldn't he when his friend whose loyalty and devotion left him nothing to ask for tried to keep her crying quiet so her feelings of rejection wouldn't bother him? He ended up telling her that maybe someday something would happen between them, just not yet. This idea of owing themselves to each other sticks in the back of their minds and they try not to let it come up again. It doesn't feel sweet or pure, but like a rot in the loving friendship they already have. But it's supposed to happen, right? That's the truest way to be happy, right?

Longshot also had feelings for Jet but of a fleeting and ephemeral nature. He is not ashamed to kiss him on the cheek, which Jet doesn't object to and isn't bothered by, but never feels the need to go any farther than that.

Jet has had to do some desperate things to keep them from starving on the way to Ba Sing Se. It takes a pretty massive emotional toll on him leading to Longshot and Smellerbee wanting to protect him but not knowing how. Whenever they express concern, he says that he's the leader so they need to let him worry about it. They intend to find decently paying work in the city so they can make ends meet without him having to do that again

Smellerbee caught a terrible fever some time before the ferry. She survived, obviously, but for a while, the other two weren't sure she would. They took turns staying by her side. She drifted in and out of sleep, but looking back at it, she's sure she could tell who was watching over her and when by the way they each laid a hand on her shoulder.

#atla #atla headcanons #freedom fighters #these kids can hold so much autism in them

53 notes · View notes

nuttynutcycle · 3 years

Note

I just discovered your blog, and I'm in LOVE with your writing! I'm completely obsessed with Familiar, so if it's not to much to ask, could you write a continuation? Thank you so much, your snippets and prompts are greatly appreciated!!

Familiar - Pt 2

First part here

On a scale of one to ten, this was either a -2 or a 12 on the good idea scale. Hero double-checked the address Villain had sent her before looking back at the tiny house. The paint was peeling, steps were rotting and that roof was definitely of the leaking sort. Somehow, she had expected Villain to live on the rich side of town.

When he had invited her over to work on their assignment, her thoughts had been torn between screaming trap and find some evidence. The second side won. If there wasn’t anything in there to prove who Villain really was… Well, she’d have to find another way of getting proof to show the authorities. She knocked and noted the cracked windows to her side. After a few seconds, Villain opened the door.

“Hey, I’m glad you could make it. Come on in.” He led her down the musty hall towards a suspiciously normal bedroom. “Thanks again for making the trek all the way over here. My mom hasn’t been doing too well recently, and I’m trying not to leave her alone for too long.”

“Of course, I get it.” Hero let her eyes trail over the spartan room. The only furniture was a bed and two chairs beside a fold-up table covered with books and scribblers. Funny, the number of times Villain escaped from her with stolen cash made her think he’d at least have better furniture. Or a safe to put the money in. Maybe it was hiding in the closet? Although in this neighbourhood, keeping money lying around might not be the brightest idea. “It’s good that you’re taking care of her.”

He nodded, avoiding her gaze and moving his stuff from the table to the floor. “Hopefully, this next surgery will be the one that works.”

“Yeah, it’s tough watching people you love go through painful things. My sister has a heart problem right now, and it’s terrifying to watch her energy come and go.” Shut up! Stop telling him personal things. “Yeah.” She finished lamely.

Their gazes locked in understanding. Hero was the first to break away. “Ready to start the pain?”

They worked on the assignment in silence for a while. Honestly, there was probably a special punishment designed for whoever invented assignments over ten pages long. This just wasn’t fair. Hero sat back, running a hand through her hair. “I think this is karma's way of punishing me for not reading the textbook.”

His lips quirked. “There’s a textbook for this class? That would’ve been helpful to know at the start of the semester.”

“Want to know how tired I was at the beginning of the semester? I can’t even remember choosing my classes,” she pulled a hand down her face. “I think I just closed my eyes and pointed at the screen.”

“You could have been in differential calculus. Or worse, accounting.”

“Or Phys Ed. Did you know our university has a course devoted to badminton?”

Villain laughed. “What a racket. To think, I could have spent time swinging my arm around and gotten credit for it.”

“But then you’d be missing out on the glories of this assignment.”

“And a friend.”

Oh nope. Big nope. Wait, Hero reconsidered. Were they friends? They did chat after class and had studied a few times together, but that didn’t mean- wait. Huh. Time to deflect with awkward humour and process these feelings later. “I thought you saw me as a role model, but that’s cool too. I’ll just have to find a new lackey.”

“And here I thought you were friends with me for my brilliance and good looks.”

She felt her cheeks begin to burn. “Yep, it’s all for your looks. If you seduce our professor, then we don’t have to do this assignment anymore.”

Villain rubbed his chin. “I’ve never seduced a professor before. Would I have to wear a sweater vest?”

“And a tweed jacket. It’s the only way.” Her fingers twitched, and she was suddenly very aware of him. The light hitting his hair, the way his lips curled when he was amused… Bad, very bad. This is your official ABORT MISSION alert. Find some evidence on the dangerous criminal and get out of there. She cleared her throat. “I’m parched. Could I get some water?”

Villain nodded, standing and leaving the room. Hero leapt out of the chair the moment the door shut behind him. Her eyes latched on the only place one could hide anything in the sparse room - the closet. She yanked it open, feeling her heart speed up at the sound of Villain opening a cupboard in the kitchen and turning on the tap.

The closet was small and impressively dull. Clothes and boxes littered the tiny shelves, with no signs of the files or weapons she was looking for. A flap of a familiar fabric dangling from one of the top boxes caught her eye. Bingo. Hero gingerly reached to feel the consistency, making sure she wasn’t wrong before bringing the authorities in, and accidentally bumped an elbow against the side of the closet. The box plummeted from its precarious placement and met the ground with a thump. No! She scrambled to pick up the box and the spilled-out uniform when a movement behind made her pause.

Villain stood in the doorway, hand clenched around a glass of water. His eyes darted to the clothes on the ground. “What are you doing?” he asked quietly.

Hero’s throat went dry. She tightened her grip on the clothes and tried to look surprised. “S-something fell in your closet, so I opened it to check what it was.”

“Huh,” Villain said. “That’s unfortunate.”

He knelt, gently taking his outfit from her hands and placing it back in the box. “You weren’t supposed to see this.”

“Clearly.” Hero swallowed and prepared to run if he attacked. Worst case scenario, she had beat him before and could do it again. Theoretically. “I didn’t mean to-“

“I know.” A familiar calculation crept across his face, making her hands shake. Villain sat across from her and blocked the only exit, placing the cup of water between them. She felt trapped against the closet.

“You know, if this had happened a month ago, I would have killed you without a second thought,” he said mildly. “Guess you’re lucky.”

A horrifying reminder that she was not dealing with her awkward classmate anymore. “What are you going to do instead?”

Villain shrugged, seeming far too calm for the situation. “I don’t know yet. Talk, I guess?”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Hero said, lying through her teeth.

“Unfortunately, I’m too old to believe the promises of others so easily.” He trailed his fingers through the thin carpet, tracing patterns through the material. “Even yours. The stakes are just too high.”

“What’s even worth all the stealing and destruction?” she asked quietly. “Why do you do it? “

The fingers paused. “It started out as one job. My mom needed treatment, and we didn’t have the money to pay for it. Then one treatment turned into two.” He shook his head. “Before I knew it, I was on the city’s most-wanted list.”

Her shoulders tensed. “Will you stop when the treatments are finished?”

“There have been other benefits to criminal activity.” Villain ducked his head, cheeks turning pink. “Lots of amazing people to meet. I haven’t decided yet.”

She leaned against the wall beside the closet, feeling safer with something solid against her back. “I don’t know if meeting people through crime is worth a lifetime in jail.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “You’d be surprised.”

Hero picked up the forgotten water sitting between them and drank, if nothing else than for the excuse to avoid responding.

His fingers trailed larger patterns in the carpet. “I never wanted you to find out- this is one of the first friendships I’ve made since I started university. I don’t want to lose that. And I don’t want you getting hurt, but this does put me in a tight position. I won’t let you inform the authorities.”

Hero pressed her back further against the wall.

Villain took one look at her wide eyes and softened his tone. “Just don’t tell. If I get one inkling that you’re about to turn me in, then..." he sighed. "Please don’t make me choose between you and my mom.”

He would know it was her. Hero didn’t think she could after this. Or fight him, knowing it was for his mom’s medical bills. She pursed her lips, making a highly regrettable split-second decision. “Alright. But only on one condition: you stop once her treatments are done.”

He twitched. “I told you, I haven’t decided yet-”

“I’m making the decision for you.” She tried to sound more confident than she felt. "Deals are much easier to trust than promises.”

“No. I’d miss-” Villain stopped, clenching his jaw. “I can’t let certain people from that life go yet.”

Something clicked. The girl he liked was from his criminal life… Oh gosh, Hero probably knew her. The brunette villain from the southside? The redheaded weapons supplier? Stop getting distracted.

“I trust you. Give it up as soon as you can.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. “For me.” That was even worse. Was it possible to die from a foot in your mouth?

Villain relaxed his shoulders. “Yeah. It’s a deal.” He stuck out a hand and Hero grasped it, shaking firmly and ignoring the sinking feeling in her chest. So like, a 5 on the good idea scale.

@revrevrew-personal @spruceandpine @sailor-cat2 @literally-just-kirby @emerqlds @chaoticgoodandu @notsocharmingmagician @flying-paperboat @touchedbyanerdyotaku

#my writing #writing #hero #villain #creative writing #hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero villain snippet #snippet #my snippet #sorry for the long wait guys!#two idiots in love #if i was Hero I'd tell Villain's mom

239 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

congratulations on your milestone, you deserve the best, patricia! 🥰 could i request prompts 1, 8 and 23 from the fluff and romance section of prompt list 3 with our baby frankie morales? thank you! 🤍

“Tell me again.” & “I’ve loved you for years.” & “It’s always been you.”

Did y’all want some Thursday fluff? Because I have some Thursday fluff! Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader ; warnings: bi reader, mention of fighting

Frankie Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You could barely hold back your tears as you knocked on Frankie’s door. You shouldn’t have come, you kept telling yourself, you shouldn’t have bothered to show up and waste his time. It was late, too late for a normal social visit, and hell, he might even have been in bed by now. But you didn’t care, you just needed him, you needed your best friend more than ever.

After a few moments when nothing but silence met your ears, you sighed lightly, dabbing at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater before turning around to leave. You could see him tomorrow or something, or give him a call. But before you could make it off his porch, the door slowly opened and you turned around to find Frankie looking at you with a confused expression. His face fell when he noticed that you’d been crying.

“Bee?” he asked as he held out his hand for you, “what’s wrong? What’s going on, sweet girl?”

You took his hand and let him lead you inside as you just sniffled and tried to pull yourself together. It was hard; as soon as he pulled you in, he wrapped you up in his arms, you felt your emotions overwhelm you as you cried into his chest. Frankie rubbed your back in soothing circles as he whispered soft reassurances into your ear, “I-I’m sorry for showing up unannounced. I probably woke you up and I’m a huge idiot. I-I can go.”

“I was just watching a movie,” he promised, “besides, I’m always here for you. You’re much more important than anything else. Tell me what’s wrong, honey.”

He put his arms on your shoulders and guided you to the kitchen, motioning for you to sit down at the island as he shuffled around and gathered the ingredients for hot chocolate. He always knew that was your favorite thing for a pick me up. He grabbed your favorite mugs from the cabinet and then set them down the counter, a soft expression in his brown eyes.

“I...remember that girl I had started seeing?” you asked softly, staring at the patterns of the tile on the countertop. Frankie made a small sound and nodded; he hadn’t been her biggest fan, purely because he thought she wasn’t treating you very well...the fact that he was in love with you was a whole other story. Truth be told, you had really liked her - but deep down you knew she would never be Frankie..it would never be the same. But still, you had really liked her before… “she...she was rude, yelled at me-”

“Did she-”

“No,” you cut him off immediately, not wanting him to get the wrong impression, and he visibly relaxed, “it’s just...she gave me an ultimatum, and it just wasn’t fair, and I told her that and she freaked out and screamed and I had to leave. I just...I did like her a lot Frankie, but I feel like a fool for even letting things get this far with her.”

“What was the ultimatum?” he asked softly as he tended to the milk, making sure it was hot enough before he poured the hot chocolate mix in. Salted Caramel hot chocolate - your favorite that he always kept on hand. You sucked in a breath as you tried to figure out if you should tell him or not, or make up some sort of excuse. You could just do it now...get it over with and let the chips fall where they may. He noted your hesitation and silence, finishing off the drinks with whipped cream as he waited for you to go on, and didn’t want to push you.

“Umm...basically…” you took the mug he pushed towards you and stared at the soft cream, taking some on your finger and licking it off. You were going to do it. Fuck, you’d been wanting to do it for years. Maybe this was it - a sign that it was all coming together, “she said I needed to choose between her and...you.”

“What?” he paused with his mug halfway to his lips as he stared at you in surprise. You cleared your throat awkwardly before nodding, wishing it was easier to interpret his expression, “she asked...you to choose?”

“Yup,” you laughed lightly, willing yourself to be brave, deciding you needed to be brave, “and I told her that it was unfair and I would never make that decision. She said...she said you would get in the way, that it was clear we were more than friends. So she said it was her or you, and I said that if I had to actually choose, it would be you every time.”

“You told her that?” he asked incredulously as you just nodded, your heart pounding nervously as you watched him closely, “w-why…?”

“You know why,” you pushed him with a small little laugh, one of nerves and excitement, “you know why. It’s always been you. I-I think it will always be you. Frankie, I-”

“I’ve loved you for years,” he cut you off before you could make your own confession. Your mouth dropped slightly before a small smile tugged on the corners of your mouth. He seemed just as nervous as you did, and yet suddenly...everything felt so right. So calm and peaceful and light; like this was always meant to happen. When he noticed your expression, he raised his eyebrows, “I hope...I hope I’m not reading things incorrectly.”

“Tell me again,” you asked softly as he nodded, “please...I just really want to hear it again and make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“I’m in love with you, sweet girl,” he repeated as you slid off the stool and moved around the corner to meet him halfway. He instantly reached for your face, gently tracing over your features with his fingers, a delicate and gentle touch, “I have been for a long time. I’ve loved you for years. I just...never thought you would..love me back.”

“Of course I do, Francisco,” you grinned at him, putting your hands on wrists and holding onto him, “it’s always been you that I’ve loved. I just...thought we were friends.”

“Just friends don’t do half the shit we do,” he joked as you laughed; both of you had always known, deep down anyway, that you were never just friends, “guess we were just dummies, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you grinned as you leaned in close and breathed him in. You were so close to kissing him, finally, and your whole body felt electric with anticipation, “Frankie?”

“Yes, sweet girl?”

“Will you kiss me now?” you could feel the brush of his lips against yours, as you grinned at each other like lovestruck fools, “finally?”

“If I start I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop…”

“I’m counting on that,” you whispered softly, “I love you, Frankie. You and only you.”

“I love you too, sweet girl. Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #forever-rogue's follower celebration

315 notes · View notes

youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

Some People Wrap Their Lies Around a Cocktail Glass | Damian Wayne

Come. And Be My Baby

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 3k

✦ fake dating AU

✦ summary — you need to cover up the fact that your boyfriend broke up with you a week before your step-father’s Christmas party, and Damian needs a date for his father’s New Year’s ball. Both of you are experts at pretending, what could go wrong?

✦ warnings — some angst (very light, blink and you’ll miss it), mentions of alcohol, a little awkwardness, fluff.

✦ author's note — thank you for reading this mini series! Most things had to be improvised because I couldn’t follow the plan I had for this story due to health issues. I hope you like it.

✦ mini series masterlist

════════════════════════

Turning the TV off, you found your own reflection ridden by guilt on the black screen.

You forgot to tell your mother you had plans for New Year’s that didn’t involve your father. You could blame Travis in your head and convince yourself that the stress of your fight with him had clouded your judgment, but it was far from the truth.

His attitude hurt, but you found it hard to feel too upset about it. Damian had been a good distraction which was a problem in itself — said problem would bother you furthermore if he hadn’t been so perfect at playing his role.

And now you would have to impress his father. Well, his siblings too, even if he wanted to act like he didn’t care about anybody from his family.

You really needed to talk to your mother.

There was no chance you would find your mother at home. Leonard liked to welcome the new year out of the country. Calling home would be easier, you could leave her a message with a maid.

Contacting your father first would open the possibility of your mother finding out from him and you knew better than doing something like that to her.

As if the universe was on your side, your mother didn’t pick up the phone and the perfect middle ground came to your mind.

Leonard answered at the third ring, calling you by your nickname as he greeted you.

“My mother isn’t answering her phone. Is everything okay?”

“She’s at the spa.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

“Did you need anything?”

You sighed. “Not exactly… but now that you mention it, I could use your help.”

“Is your father treating you badly?”

“No, no. It’s about Damian.” Before he could assume anything, you clarified, “He isn’t treating me badly either.”

“I’m all ears.”

You toyed with the tv remote, tracing the spaces between the buttons with your fingertip. “I… first, I need to tell you something,” you started, unsure. “But you have to promise mom will never find out.”

Leonard hummed. “Are you finally confessing that Damian isn’t your boyfriend?”

You winced. “Is it that obvious?”

“No. Harry told me about your fight with Trent.”

“Travis,” you corrected him.

“Him, yes,” Leonard dismissed the correction. “You didn’t have to lie to us, you know?”

“Mother was happy to know I was dating somebody,” you mumbled, “but Travis chickened out.”

“And Damian didn’t.”

“Exactly.”

“So? What’s the issue?”

Shifting, you rested your head on the arm of the couch. You felt like a teen again, telling Leonard about your day and the drama in your friend group. “I think I like him. I don’t know, I’m confused.”

“Give yourself time to figure it out.” It sounded easy coming out of his mouth.

“I wish I could. I have to get ready in like two hours to attend a ball with him, and I’ll have to pretend to be his perfect girlfriend like he pretended to be my perfect boyfriend.”

“You’ll do great,” he said gently. “You’ve pretended to enjoy events before.”

“I’ve never pretended to be perfect.”

“Because you don’t have to. Treat it like you used to treat the events you attended us. Why was that so easy to do?”

“Because I wanted you to look good.”

“Do you want Damian to look good?”

“Yes.”

“There’s your answer.” Good ol’ Leonard, always so patient with you.

“Will you help me get a new identity if I mess it up?”

He snorted. “Anything you want. Always.”

“I’m guessing you can tell my mother to call me?” You tried your luck, “Or let her know I won’t visit my father…”

“You’re not getting out of that one.”

“Fair enough,” you laughed softly.

Later, as you were getting ready, a question filled your mind — did Leonard imply Damian and you would be a good couple or did you imagine that?

════════════════════════

You jumped upon hearing the doorbell. Taking your clutch from the coffee table, you checked yourself on the mirror one last time.

Opening the door, you found an impeccably dressed Damian. His aftershave hit your nostrils immediately, mixed with his cologne.

“Ready?” he asked.

No. “Yes,” you assured him, watching him step backward to give you space.

You felt his eyes on you as you locked the door. Your eyes locked with his when you turned around, but neither of you said anything.

“My siblings might be too much to handle at first,” he warned you.

You shifted to look at him as he drove. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“I’ll let you decide once you meet them.”

“Oh, you’re cruel.”

He almost smiled.

This time the drive was shorter, and if Damian was nervous, he knew how to hide it to perfection.

His wall crumbled rather quickly. His eyes were fixed on the butler, gaze softening as he was greeted. You heard him refer to the butler by his last name, and introduce you.

“Please call me Alfred, miss.”

“Thank you, Alfred. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The old man smiled at you, bowing.

A commotion behind Alfred interrupted the butler himself who moved to the side. A blue-eyed man grabbed Damian by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug.

Damian inhaled sharply, patting the other man’s back a few times. “Richard,” he whined, “you’re ruining my attire.”

“Don’t worry. Jason isn’t even wearing a tux.” Hearing Damian scoff, Richard let go of him.

You stifled a laugh, watching Damian fix imaginary creases on his blazer. He sent you a glare, mouth twitching as he saw you pursing your lips.

“Hold it! You brought at date?!”

Standing straight, Damian introduced you to Richard as his girlfriend. You extended your free hand in a polite gesture that Richard almost found insulting.

You too were pulled into a hug. And welcomed to the family. “I can’t believe this!”

“Richard,” Damian gritted.

Ignoring his brother, the man hugging you said, “Call me Dick. Dami refuses to do it for whatever reason.”

You hugged him back, wondering if this was what Damian meant by too much. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dick.”

Dick shuffled, quite excited as he attempted to guide you towards the reception with an arm around your neck. “Come. Everybody will be happy to meet you.”

“Hey!” Damian exclaimed. “She’s my girlfriend, I should be the one introducing her!”

God. How many times would he call you his girlfriend? And how many times would you be able to take it?

Dick smiled, withdrawing his arm off you. “Of course.”

Damian lightly shoved Dick as he took your hand. His eyes found yours once again, silently asking you if you were ready. Gripping his hand, you lied by assuring him you were.

Two men and two women were in the living room. You recognized Jason immediately thanks to Dick’s comment about his lack of suit.

Chatter died down as four pairs of eyes fixed on you and Damian. You weren’t sure if they were shocked because Damian was there or because he had taken you with him.

“Hello,” Damian greeted blandly.

Jason snorted. “Definitely not a clone.”

The other man stood up, smiling at Damian. “Welcome home, Dami.”

“Thank you… Tim.”

Tim’s smile turned even brighter. He introduced himself to you unprompted, and he did a better job at hiding his surprise than Dick.

Everybody did, in fact. Jason winked at Damian as he congratulated him, Stephanie said she was happy for the two of you, and Cassandra stared straight into your soul before giving you a small smile.

Just when you thought things would go smoothly, somebody else entered the room and your stomach dropped.

Bruce stood in front of you and Damian, seemingly at a loss of words.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

Damian have his father a curt nod. Seeing his eyes deviate toward you, he opened his mouth to introduce you.

You were quicker. It was only fair, he hadn’t made you introduce him to your mother and he had already done the work with his siblings.

Bruce wasn’t interested in hiding his shock upon hearing you were Damian’s girlfriend. “You didn’t say anything about a girlfriend at work.”

“I didn’t find it appropriate,” Damian explained with ease.

“We should have dinner next week so we can get to know you better,” Bruce suggested, eyes solely on you.

“O—of course, sir.” What were you getting yourself into?

“I wish we had more time tonight,” Bruce continued, “but our guests will be arriving any moment now.”

Bruce was proven right as Alfred announced the arrival of a few guests.

Throughout the night, Damian watched you charm people he had never cared for and people he had once struggled to have in his pocket alike.

He felt you lace your arm with his and follow the pattern of his steps to walk in sync with him.

He heard you laugh with his siblings and gossip with Stephanie as if you had known them for years.

He became aware of the warmth of your palms and the coldness of your fingers as you danced.

And he couldn’t bear it.

Damian slowly slid his arm off yours and excused himself.

You decided to give him space. He would’ve asked you to go with him if he wanted your company.

It was clear that you weren’t the only one who was overwhelmed, and at the end of the night, he was the one who needed to look good. He deserved a break.

Damian roamed the main hallway, so familiar yet so foreign. Nothing had changed except for him and said changes weren’t unwelcome.

In hindsight, the only unwelcome thing he could find was how much he was dreading the end of the night.

He found his way back to the living room and stood in front of the window. He could see a couple hiding behind Alfred’s perfectly trimmed bushes, presumably making out.

Not many minutes passed before he heard approaching steps. He should’ve expected Dick to follow him.

“I didn’t think you’d show up,” Dick broke the silence. “But I’m glad you did. And I’m glad you brought your girlfriend with you.”

Humming, Damian continued staring at the greenery. “I always keep my promises.”

“And secrets, huh. We wouldn’t have known you had a girlfriend if you hadn’t come.”

“I suppose not.”

“You okay? I know you don’t want to be here, but—“

Damian interrupted him, “I am not uncomfortable here. Surprisingly.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my little brother?”

Damian tore his eyes off the window and glared at Dick.

“You know I’m joking.”

Sighing, Damian nodded. “I’m not used to… this.”

“Care to be more specific?”

“Not really.”

Dick stayed silent, respecting Damian’s line. The two of them enjoyed a silent moment together, staring out of the window.

A snicker blurted out of Dick as he caught sight of the couple Damian had spotted. Both were doing a poor job at fixing their attire.

Damian huffed a laugh, sharing an amused look with his brother.

“We should go back before Bruce starts the toast.”

Damian motioned for his brother to lead the way.

He took his spot next to you, snaking his arm around your waist. You leaned into his touch, feeling his steady breathing.

He didn’t give a single sign of being upset, so you asked him in a whisper, “Everything okay?”

“Don’t worry,” he answered in your ear.

You fought against the shiver the gesture sent down your spine.

════════════════════════

Leaving Wayne Manor was harder than you expected it to be. You would never judge Damian for wanting to be away from his family, he had his reasons, you simply didn’t share the sentiment.

You managed to fit easily with them, and what marveled you the most was how little you had to pretend to be somebody else.

The sight of your building saddened you. Everything would be over in a few minutes, just what you had wanted the day before, and you weren’t looking forward to it.

Walking down the hallway in silence, you were about to say good night as you approached his door when Damian asked, “Can you come in for a little bit?”

You nodded, not ready for the night to end. “Sure.”

Damian unlocked his door and allowed you to get in first, turning the lights on as he entered the apartment behind you.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

You shook your head. “I drank enough already.”

He shed his blazer, going straight to the point, “Travis was right.”

His comment took you aback. You didn’t expect this from Damian. You didn’t even want to believe it. Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, you asked, “About what?”

“You should have been with me from the beginning. And I hadn’t even...” He made a face, as though the right words were escaping him. That was a first. “I can’t tell you I love you. Not now, that would be insane. But I’m pretty sure I’m halfway there.”

He undid his tie, speaking still, “I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I started falling for you, I just know it makes all the sense in the world.”

Damian never imagined his life going like this. Romance wasn’t on his list of priorities when he left the manor. Or ever. He wanted to know himself properly, to be his own person, to finally let go of the bottled-up resentment.

He liked to think he had accomplished those things, and he had done so on his own. He was proud of that — of himself.

“You made the bad days worth it without even knowing,” he continued talking. You had never heard him speak this much. “The days in which I believed there was nothing more to myself than what everybody wanted to believe, mostly. You didn’t know a damn thing about me, and if you did then you never showed it. I was just Damian, your neighbor.”

“I—“

He shushed so you would shut up. He wasn’t done. “I was just Damian to you even tonight, surrounded by people who only see me as an extension to my father.”

“I like being just Damian. And for a while, I thought that was it. We’re good friends, we feel comfortable around each other… but the fact that you are gorgeous was never going to help my case.”

He stopped you before you could say anything. Almost desperate as he said, “I didn’t offer to do this because I wanted you to like me, or because I wanted to know how it felt like to be your partner. I need you to know that.”

“I also need you to know that the only reason why I’m telling you all of this is that I wish I didn’t have to lie when I told my family you were my girlfriend, because I wish you could truly get to know my father… because my family likes you and you like them, and it feels good.”

Getting rid of your coat, you let it fall onto the couch beside you. “Can I talk now?”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

You nodded. “But I want to.” When you were sure he wouldn’t interrupt again, you spoke, “I don’t know what’s going on. I mean, I’m not blind, you’re handsome, and I like spending time with you...”

“But?” he asked, impatient.

“There’s not a but. Let me finish!”

He motioned for you to go on.

“This is new. And I’m... confused?” You shook your head. “Not confused. Maybe surprised?” Chuckling, you messed with your hair. “I was going to distance myself from you for a little while to figure things out. And now I feel like I wouldn’t bear it.”

He swallowed loudly. “I can give you space if that’s what you need.”

“No.” It wasn’t what you needed, it couldn’t be when you felt the most comfortable around him.

Damian sat down, watching you. He liked doing it, following the movement of your lips as you spoke, and the way your hands seemed to have a mind of their own.

“I like being just Damian,” he repeated. “But I would love to be your Damian.”

Flushed, you admitted, “I like the sound of that.”

“Would you like to be my (Name)?” he asked softly.

“I would love to.”

“We can take things slow,” he assured you, eyes dancing all over your face. “I don’t want to pressure you or myself.”

You sat next to him. “It’s fine by me.”

Damian softly smiled. He placed his hand on top of yours, gripping it as his warmth eased the coldness of your fingers.

You returned the smile. “What a week, huh?”

“Eventful,” he conceded, scooting closer to you.

“At least we had an exciting end of the year.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes. “Is the Venn diagram between your idea of excitement and your idea of anxiety a perfect circle?”

You elbowed him on the side. “It wasn’t that bad.” Turning to look at him, you added, “Was it?”

Shaking his head, he stared at your lips as he whispered, “Should we make it more exciting?”

You licked your bottom lip, lightly leaning in. “It’s only fair.”

Damian left the playfulness to the side and captured your lips between his. The kiss was short and chaste, a perfectly acceptable first kiss between people who hadn’t known what they felt for each other until a few days ago.

But you soon remembered that it didn’t have to stop there. That you didn’t want it to. So you kissed him again, and Damian allowed you to set the pace at first.

Withdrawing his hand from yours, he wrapped his arm around your neck and brought you closer, prompting you to place your farthest hand on his shoulder as you tilted your head.

You felt him smile against your lips before the pressure of his mouth on yours became harsher.

Thankfully, you wouldn’t need a new identity. You liked yours very much.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #damian wayne

145 notes · View notes

whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

Ashes Chapter 16: Up Against the Wall

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Summary: You two will probably never stop fighting, but at least you're trying.

A/N: I'm so sorry to have to split this up. This was a smut chapter but it was just so damn long. I couldn't just slam 15 pages here. I mean I could, but it didn't make sense to. But next week? Smut. Also definitely gonna write a prequel to this. Even if it's just for me, unless you guys wanna see it haha <3

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

“What was that about?” Liu sat on the edge of your bed at your side without so much as asking for permission. Bold.

“Oh, that?” You looked to the door in amusement. “Yeah, about that. Cole knows.”

“Cole knows what?”

“Cole knows.” You gave him a pointed look. Liu furrowed his brow while trying to decipher your words and then widened his eyes in realization. He watched the door, surprised.

“Oh.” He seemed puzzled. “How, exactly?”

“He saw us the other night. Right before closing.”

“Oh.” He repeated. “Bad timing.” Liu sighed but you could see amusement behind his eyes. It was reminiscent of those first few weeks you’d spent with him where he didn’t say what he really meant but in a playful sort of way. He’d done that all the damn time and he knew just how attractive you found it. Damn him. Of course he would think this was a little funny while you were ripping yourself apart over it.

“That and…” You tilted your head to the side and pushed your hair away from your shoulder. Then you wiped the remains of the makeup off of your neck so that he could see the damn hickey that he’d left on you. Liu’s face dropped but then he practically snorted with laughter and had to cover his mouth to hide his smile. What a brat! He cleared his throat.

“Oops.”

That was all he had to say, huh? You shoved his shoulder.

“Really, Liu? A hickey? What are you, twelve?” You let your hair fall back into place.

“I guess I got a little carried away.” He shrugged as if this were all the explanation you would need. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You know, I cannot think of a single time where you left a mark on me and it wasn’t like we had a lot of self-control back then.”

“Well, that’s not true…” He looked ready to argue with you so you rolled your eyes at him.

“A mark that anyone could see.” You stuck your tongue out at him. He gave a short nod as if to thank you for clarifying. “Now, when things are at their most complicated, Liu, you just… go for it, I guess. Big ol’ mark right on my neck for everyone to see. Thank the stars that it was Cole who noticed it and not someone else.”

“I wasn’t exactly in control of much yesterday.” Liu offered a very pitiful defense but he, again, was hiding his laughter.

“Oh, and you were so in control back then, were you?”

“Uh…” He hesitated. “Fair point.” You laughed in disbelief. “It’s nice to see you smile.” But your smile fell almost immediately. It had felt nice to joke about it, like it wasn’t weighing so heavily on you. Things were often too serious between you now. You’d once been the best of friends. “How are you feeling?” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Of course not.

“I’m tired of you asking me how I’m feeling.”

“You collapsed earlier so I’m a little worried. That’s all. I think I get to ask.” When you offered him no further explanation of what had happened, he continued. “Overexertion, perhaps? Or something that you’re not telling me which seems more likely. You do that a lot. Especially now. There was a time where you couldn’t keep from telling me everything.” He was right about that. You’d had an instant connection and had shared truths and secrets very early on. That felt like a lifetime ago. You were a different person now.

“Liu…” You decided to let him down easy and then send him away. Today had been too much and keeping him around was dangerous. And considering how much you wanted to do something dangerous, you had to get rid of him.

“What aren’t you telling me, Y/N?”

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet.” It was true. You didn’t want to tell anyone what that man had put into your head. You weren’t ready to face it. In fact, your brain had completely stalled in processing it. The afternoon was already being blacked out.

“We don’t have time for you to brood over whatever it is. Dealing with it later can’t be the only solution you have.”

“You are just so damn determined to turn everything into a fight, aren’t you?” You snapped at him. “I didn’t force you to deal with whatever you’re dealing with. Maybe later is all I have right now.”

“We don’t have until later.”

“Does it make you feel better to pick a fight with me? Is that what it is?”

“You’re just as confrontational as I am, Y/N. Listen to the way you said that.”

“Let it go. I’ll sort it out with Raiden when we get back to China. You and I? We’re not that close anymore, Liu. Get it through your head.”

“You know that I can’t let it go.” He pushed his hair back in frustration. “Not just because you’re my friend. That night on the roof you saw something. I’m guessing you saw this. You saw what happened today.” You frowned. He was right but it didn’t mean you had to like it. “I let you have your space about what you saw on the roof and after today, I can’t keep doing that. And you don’t have to lash out at me every time you’re scared.”

“Scared?” You went from zero to annoyed immediately. Annoyed because he was right and annoyed because he was calling you out in such a tone.

“I’ve decided that’s what it is that makes you like this. Fear. Fear of change. Fear of the guilt. Fear of me. Fear of whatever it is you’re not telling anyone.”

“Sometimes I can’t stand the way that you assume you know what I’m thinking and feeling.”

“Only because you don’t tell me anything anymore. So don’t start on that. I’m not assuming anything, Y/N. It’s an observation.” He frowned but he hadn’t snapped or yelled at you. You hated that he was so levelheaded. Why couldn’t he be just as irrational as you were now? Why was it that he had gotten it together but you were still a mess? “You’re jumping down my throat because you’re uncomfortable.”

“Liu, I swear…”

“You pick fights now because it’s easier than talking. It was different when I was the one picking fights. And you called me out. So, I’m calling you out, Y/N.” He looked as if he wanted you to prove him wrong. You hated that he was right. You hated that he was making you face these things head on. It was something that Kung Lao just hadn’t done. You’d had your moments where you’d pushed each other but it was nothing like with Liu Kang. He had always pushed you. There had been a time where you’d loved that.

“You know what?” You began with an angry huff but it immediately deflated and your shoulders slumped. “I am scared.” You gave all of your attention to the tacky pattern on the carpeted floor. “I haven’t had to deal with visions in years. My arcana hasn’t drained me like this in just as long. Today was exhausting for me and my fuse is short. This is a lot. You’re right. It’s easier to fight with you than to deal with it.”

“To your credit you did duplicate nearly everyone today. Then you smashed all those things in one strike. I’ve never seen you do anything on that scale before. It was impressive.” He offered an understanding smile which you were relieved to see even out of the corner of your eye. Maybe you wouldn’t fight. “No wonder you’re a little gray.”

“I’ve never tried anything that grand before.”

“You never needed to.”

“It’s left me rattled, that’s all. Raiden will help. We figured it out back then and we’ll figure it out again.” It was probably the trauma and the guilt. Those things could weigh heavily on a person.

“We will.” He folded his hands in his lap and you sat together in silence. Liu shifted next to you. He was trouble today. And he had no idea how dangerous you were feeling, how desperately you wanted to cause some trouble and how easy it was for your brain to connect those two facts. Liu Kang could be just the trouble you needed and you were already kicking yourself for thinking it. “What aren’t you saying?”

“I’m not saying it, Liu, on purpose.” You spoke quietly so he leaned closer. His hand covered yours where you had it rested on the bed between you. Chills ran down your spine so you stiffened up. His touch was so careful, so thoughtful. You refused to shiver beneath the touch of Liu Kang.

“Y/N…” His voice was laced with concern.

“Don’t push me, Liu. Not today.” You turned toward him and leaned closer as if to dare him to do just that. Oh, how your body language betrayed you. “You have no idea how volatile I’m feeling.”

“Then talk to me. Don’t shut down.”

“Why, Liu?” You didn’t see the point. There was no way out of this for you. What did he think would happen? You were at war. What did anything matter? War with Outworld. War with wherever that horrid man had been from. War with each other. “I need to think it over. I’m not a touchy-feely-talk-about-everything person anymore and you know that.”

“No, Y/N, I don’t. We have clawed and fought our way to this point. Whether or not you like it, we’re in this together. You can’t just be in it when it’s convenient for you.”

“That’s so nasty, Liu. Don’t put it like that.”

“I already did.”

“I’m not ready to talk about it. That’s the line.”

“You are obviously hurting. Something happened and you aren’t telling me. Something prompted you to do what you did earlier. Let me be there for you. Let me comfort you.”

“I don’t want your comfort.”

“Why not?”

“You already know the reason, Liu.” His comfort came with strings. There was no such thing as no-strings-attached with Liu Kang. Even when he had said it meant nothing it had been a lie. You knew each other too well now to pretend.

“Because you’re afraid?” There was that word again. The way he said it with such disdain made you immediately angry. You gritted your teeth to keep from saying something awful. “Scared that it’ll make you weak to need comfort? Or scared that maybe you’ll do something that you clearly want to do and then have to deal with the consequences?” He moistened his lips and then swallowed hard as if to keep from saying something more. But he’d said enough.

“You just have to push and push and dig and dig until I snap, don’t you? You just can’t help yourself. Then you call me out for assuming shit and turn around and do the same thing to me, you hypocrite.” There was that bottled up anger, coming out in a bite. You’d warned him and he’d poked the bear anyway.

“You need pushing.”

“Are you getting some sick sense of purpose from this, Liu?” Your lip curled in anger. “I get it. You’re lost after losing Kung Lao and then after what happened with me and finding out I was wasted and made a mistake… now you’re…”

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel, Y/N. You’re angry. Defensive. Lashing out. But you do not get to tell me how I feel or why I’m doing what I’m doing. I’m thinking clearly for the first time since it all happened.”

“Oh, so you get to but I don’t? You used me like a verbal punching bag this last week, Liu! Maybe it’s about time you had a taste of your own damn medicine.”

“Stop.” He grabbed your arm and you tugged it but he didn’t let go. He grabbed your other arm and turned you to face him. “Just stop it, Y/N.”

You should have pulled your hand back and broken his stupid nose. But his dark eyes were full of concern, pleading with you, dripping with sincerity. Betraying your anger, your vision blurred with tears. He was right. You furrowed your brow and forced the tears away. Then you gave him a curt nod.

“Sorry.” You muttered. He shifted and moved closer. Letting go of your wrist, he placed his hand instead on your cheek. His warm fingers traced down to your jaw and then beneath it, tilting your chin back up so you would have to face him. His lips were close. They were dangerous and you wanted them. You hated yourself for wanting them.

“Don’t push me away, Y/N.” His lips brushed against yours just barely, tantalizing you with each word. He knew exactly what he was doing. Liu Kang played so damn innocent but you knew exactly what he was doing in these moments where you had gotten this close. He knew what he’d been doing back then and he knew what he was doing now. “Please.” His lips graced yours again as he spoke and then slowly engulfed them in a kiss that send sparks shooting down your spine. That soft kiss was enough to make you crumble. The tension you’d held in your every nerve faded. How could you do anything but lean into that kiss? You savored the touch of his soft lips, the bottom one still broken from the day before. The taste of them was like fire. Loose embers that had, at some point, coated his lips.

No.

No, you couldn’t do this. As much as you wanted it, this kind of trouble wasn’t the kind you would come back from twice. Hand on his chest, you pushed him back, pulling your lips away from his and just barely managing it.

“Bad idea.” You muttered against every instinct in your body.

“Why?” He grasped the wrist he still held in frustration. “You want this. I know you do.”

“That doesn’t matter, Liu.”

“It matters.” He was exasperated and you couldn’t rightly blame him. “What you want matters. What I want matters.”

“But…”

“But what?” His cool exterior finally broke.

“Don’t snap at me like that.”

He quieted you with a kiss and you laughed in surprise against the demand of his fiery lips.

Next Chapter >>

21 notes · View notes

whitherliliesbloom · 3 years

Photo

You follow the scent trail of sweet flowers...until you bump into a mysterious bijou girl with starspun hair and lustrous lavender eyes. Mysterious girl far from home: “O-oh- I’m sorry... The way you’re looking at me as if you want to d-duel... W-well, i-if you in-insist..”

@windupnamazu‘s Pokemon!AU Illya headcanons under the cut! It’s very long, so hang tight! Note the headcanons may be subject to change or updates in the future ;w; Drawings and designs of Illya’s outfits by @rosepinkwol.

Illya’s personality is about similar with her ffxiv canon verse. Shy, reserved, very sweet and gentle. But she’s considerably more cheerful in her pokemon au form and less emotionally volatile / depressed. She still does have some lingering emotional and mental health issues though, which will be covered later.

She became a pokemon trainer primarily to explore the world and meet more pokemon. Dueling and beating others isn’t a real priority for her, though she still does it to earn money.

While Illya bets pokemon dollars in normal battles with trainers she is unfamiliar with or in official tournaments, she doesn’t like gambling real money when battling with friends. Instead, she’d often suggest that the loser has to treat the winner to a meal.

Extremely good cook. You’ll never go hungry or be unsatisfied in the tummy if you go camping with her. Just don’t mention that you like spicy foods or she’ll almost always assume that you’d be able to handle the same level of spice as she does (pro-tip: you probably can’t).

She smells like the most gorgeous mix of flowers - no thanks to her Comfey often playing with her hair and wrapping flowers around her.

She takes pokemon welfare very seriously due to her upbringing and background. She thus has a habit of releasing pokemon she captured that she feels would either be happier out in the wild or are showing signs of stress in her care. That seldom happens though, due to how loving and caring she is towards all her pokemon - most of them end up becoming very attached and even protective of her.

In the same way, she never forces a pokemon to battle, evolve or do anything they don’t want to, even if they are strong.

Illya knows a lot about pokemon care and the likes / dislikes / proper way to take care of different types of pokemon. Thus, she makes friends with pokemon a lot easier than she does humans.

The very definition of ‘gotta catch em all!’..... but only if the pokemon wants to be with her. She loves all pokemon, regardless of her personal tastes and will treat any pokemon she comes across with respect and care as long as they mean no harm to her.

Knows basic first aid for both humans and pokemon. And much like in canon, her pain tolerance is incredibly high.

She’s very particular about money. Short-change her, and she’ll be very very cross. After all, less money means less treats she can buy for her pokemon.

In general, she’s dainty and graceful... however she is a tad more clumsy in her pokemon au form compared to canon.

Illya is the definition of gap moe: her sweet, cute and angelic demeanor causes a lot of people to underestimate her. When they challenge her to a battle, they are later shocked by just how ferocious and skilled she is as a trainer.

Illya has become quite famous everywhere she travels - owing to her infectiously sweet, genuine and kind nature contrasting her ferocity and skill in pokemon battles.

She’s extremely intelligent, observant and intuitive. She often stays on the defensive for long periods of time before she works out a strategy or her opponent pokemon’s weak points before going in for the (metaphorical) kill. Reckless trainers who don’t plan accordingly are the quickest to lose to her.

She WILL order her pokemon to use stun debuffs on your pokemon (sleep, charm etc). And she won’t apologize for it.... until the battle is over.

As stated, since Illya doesn’t especially care about dueling or becoming known as the best pokemon trainer, she often doesn’t see the need to challenge gym leaders to duels unless her friends urge her to, or if beating a gym leader is required for her to be able to advance in her journey.

Illya’s an extremely good sport. She’ll congratulate you wholeheartedly if you defeat her, and will also wish you ‘good fight!’ if she beats you.

Gives the best hugs - especially to her pokemon. It’s not uncommon for people to see her giving group hugs to her pokemon after a particularly tough or difficult duel.

Illya actually has a lot of pokemon, many captured but also many that she befriended and didn’t officially ‘catch’ until they decided to follow her home. She carries a fair bunch around with her, but also left a good number of her pokemon at home to live peacefull with her father. Of course, she only enters battle with 6 pokemon at maximum, as per usual pokemon battle rules. Relationships with her main pokemon team and other notable pokemon detailed below!

While Illya is generally not one to fuss too much about her appearance or fashion, she does care about making presentable. As such, she has a more colorful and varied self-made wardrobe in her pokemon au form than she does in canon. She does however, have a favorite outfit that has become trademark to her:

A loose cloak that is fastened either with a pin or buckle, and a long flowing scarf that sways freely in the wind as she walks. Underneath her cloak, she wears a knee-length dress with a sailor collar and elbow-length sleeves and black fingerless gloves. She often switches between various hair accessories such as flower corsages, ribbons and pins. However, her brightly colored hairbands are perhaps the most well remembered to those who meet her.

Some people speculate that her scarves were sewn from the fur that was shed from her Cinccino, hence how warm and fluffy that look. Her hip length pure white hair is wrapped against her neck when she wears her scarf.

Illya’s trademark outfit in the pokemon au has two different versions: one that she wears in the spring and summer, while the other is worn in autumn and winter.

Her spring / summer attire is lighter- both in color and fabric. Her baby pink cloak is fastened with a flower pin atop her pink and purple dress. Intricate flower patterns adorns her skirt, and she wears ankle-length socks and purple flats. She also wears flower earrings

Her autumn / winter attire is made of thicker, warmer material - specifically her purple cloak which has a star print and is fastened with a buckle. Her dress is a darker blue in color, with constellation and star patterning around the edge of her skirt. There are rumors that the underside of her skirt shimmers like a starry night sky... but you’d have to be out of your mind to want to look up it to confirm said rumor. Instead of socks, she wears white tights and dark blue shoes. She also wears a star hairclip and earrings to go with her blue hairband.

Illya does not like feeling cold, and thus usually travels around wearing her cloak and scarf... however, she will on occasion take them off indoors out of respect - such as when she’s eating a meal at somebody’s house as a guest.

Illya was born to two loving parents - Cocona, a lalafellin woman who worked as a nurse at the nearest pokemon center to their home in a small, quaint town and Lachlan, an ex-pokemon trainer who retired shortly after having his name entered into the hall of fame, now settled down to live with his wife and daughter.

Cocona’s job as a nurse gave her a lot of knowledge on how to take care of pokemon, and together with her husband set up a daycare / nursery for both young and old pokemon alike, where they spent their days taking care of many different species of pokemom.

Born under those circumstances, Illya was exposed to pokemon since a very young age, and began playing with and interacting with pokemon as a toddler. She also quickly learned to help around the daycare, learning more about each different type of pokemon and how to best take care of each of their needs.

At age 9, her mother fell ill with a life-threatening disease, and in order to allow his wife to see the world before she passed on, Lachlan took Cocona away on a one year journey outside their hometown, leaving Illya alone with her aunt (Cocona’s younger sister) to take care of the pokemon daycare in their absence. Unfortunately, Illya’s aunt had a somewhat sour relationship with her sister, and was neglectful towards Illya, often leaving her unattended for extended periods of time.

Illya sought refuge and comfort from the pokemon she was tasked to take of, and for a long time, they were the only ones Illya talked to. She’d take the pokemon out flower picking, stargazing. She ate with them, slept with them and vowed to take care of them to the best of her abilities for the sake of her parents.

On a particularly terrible stormy night, the land surrounding her home became flooded with rainwater and seeped into her house. While Illya scrambled to keep the water out, her pokemon were thrown into a panic, and eventually one of the baby pidoves flew out and away from her home. Illya chased after the pidove into the woods despite the rain, the wind so strong that it caused her umbrella to be carried away into the wind.

As she ran after the pidove, she slipped and tumbled down a hill, breaking her leg. Now injured, scared and alone in the middle of the forest, the young Illya cried for help, but her voice was drowned out by the sound of the pouring rain and thunder. With nothing but the darkness of the night staring back at her and fearing that a wild animal or hostile pokemon may be lurking about and attack her, Illya attempted to crawl her way back home, but the pain from attempting to stand up only causes her to collapse once more.

It felt like the entire world had abandoned her, and just as she heard a strange noise from the shadows and feared the worse, a mimikyu approaches her from the dark and sat by her, watching over her and shielding her with its appendages, as if to reassure her that it won’t let any harm come to her.

She was found later in the morning by the people from the nearest town, who had gone over to her house to check on her only to find she wasn’t in, her pokemon panicking and gesturing towards the forest for the townspeople to look for her. The pidove was hold safely afterwards too, trembling as it took shelter in a tree.

The incident left Illya well traumatized, and stemmed her own growing self-hatred and anxiety which would only grow worse as she grew to become a teenager.

She doesn’t like talking much about what happened to her as a child, and she only ever mentions the incident to people she truly cares about and trusts. And if anybody were to ever upset her by being pushy and asking her about it when she doesn’t want to share, her Mimikyu would be the first to smack the offender in the head.

Her main pokemon team underwent a few changes over the years, but for the most part now, it’s fixed and she rarely switches members of her party out for another pokemon unless she thinks it’s really necessary.

One of the first and oldest member of her current pokemon party. Illya and her Mimikyu are inseparable.

Mimikyu had in truth been watching her since she was but a child, enviously admiring how happy her family and her pokemon in their daycare had been together. He had, on multiple occasions, attempted to show himself in order to be part of their family, but was always too cowardly to do so. He would always scurry away whenever Illya or her parents would approach, hiding in the shadows and only ever watching from a distance. He watched her even as she was left alone, and on the fateful night of that storm where Illya would find herself lost and injured in the forest, Mimikyu folllowed her.

Watching Illya cry alone in the rain, he felt a surge of protectiveness and compelled him to finally step out of the shadow to comfort and protect her through the night. Perhaps in that instance, he saw himself in Illya, someone who was scared, alone and just wanted to be loved. He could relate to Illya’s loneliness, and loved her for the way she would love and accept any pokemon, regardless of their appearance or strength.

Since that day, Mimikyu hasn’t left Illya’s side and is one of the most protective pokemon of her.

Mimikyu can often be found sitting on Illya’s head when he’s out of his pokeball and traveling around with her. He will extend his appendage out to grab any food that she offers him, or even to swat away anyone who gets too close to Illya.

Compared to other Mimikyu, Illya’s Mimikyu isn’t at all aggressive towards Pikachu. It is however, very shy and embarrassed and will attempt to hide if it spots one.

As Mimikyu only really cares about what Illya thinks, he won’t attack anyone who catches a glimpse of him under his disguise. But he will be very, very grouchy.

He gets along decently well with all her other pokemon, though it is sometimes jealous of how big and strong Corviknight is.

From a distance or as a shadow, Illya’s scarf often resembles the appendage Mimikyu extends out. Once, while the pair were out in the woods and Mimikyu was sitting on Illya’s head, it extended its appendage to grab hold of a treat Illya was offering it. A distant passerby who could not see clearly in the dark of the night mistook their silhouetted figure as being a monster - or a near and frightening mythical pokemon. The myth is still circulating to this day, and Illya has no idea that it had been caused by her and her Mimikyu.

Mimikyu doesn’t like going inside his pokeball - not that Illya would force him to. He’d of course, prefer to spend time outside with Illya. He especially never leaves her sight while she sleeps, often snuggling up to her beneath the covers or otherwise making himself comfortable in her scarf that she set aside.

He’s surprisingly, and scarily very physically strong - able to grab hold of other pokemon and even other people several hundred times larger than itself. He uses this to his advantage by grabbing people who get too close to Illya and shoving them away - and he’s not at all gentle about it.

Comfey shares Illya’s love and passion for flowers and it’s not uncommon to see her Comfey drifting around her, weaving flowers into her hair as she walked. The scent of the flower crowns Comfey weaves makes people who wear them feel relaxed, so she often wraps Illya in flowers whenever the girl is feeling particularly stressed or uncomfortable.

Comfey loves decorating hotel rooms and campsites with flowers she picks from the wild, and she seems to be particularly generous when it comes to giving out her flowers to others. Friendly, sweet and kind - it’s almost as if Comfey was an extension of Illya herself sometimes.

Comfey is the resident healer of Illya’s pokemon roster, able to not only heal the ailments of humans but also the other pokemon. She is especially active when Illya is helping out at pokemon centers or giving first aid to others. When Illya is in pain, Comfey often goes into a tearful panic.

Corviknight’s appearance almost always gives other people a heart attack. Nobody ever expects someone as small, cute and demure as Illya to have such an intimidating looking pokemon. But she does, and she is just as affectionate to him as she is with her other pokemon. Strangely, Corviknight seems to be very uncooperative to everyone except her.

Once lacking a flying type pokemon, Illya almost fell to her death after being pushed off a cliff. Corviknight caught her in midair and hid her under his wings after he landed, guarding her with a ferocious glare even as other humans attempted to check on her. Ever since, he’s ever a watchful guardian to her, glaring from behind her back even as she smiles sweetly at others.

Corviknight also serves as Illya’s main mode of transportation when she isn’t able to walk herself. As Illya loves taking her time to explore on her own two feet, she tries to not overly rely on Corviknight... sometimes, it can’t be helped however - such as when she needs to cross large bodies of water.

Interestingly, Corviknight bears a striking resemblance in both his aesthetic and personality to a hyuran pokemon trainer of dark skin and black hair who has secret romantic feelings for Illya.

Bellossom met Illya while the girl was traveling through a tropical area that has been haunted by rain clouds and dark skies for the past several days. Illya was first attracted to bellossom because of the flowers on her head, and had watched as the Bellossom danced and chanted, mesmerized when the rainclouds pulled apart and sunlight began to shine through.

The two quickly bonded, with Bellossom teaching Illya her sun summoning dance before finally, she decided to join Illya together on her journey.

She wasn’t exactly meant to be a part of Illya’s team, and for a while, she was but a mere travel companion. However, Illya noticed just how active and enthusiastic Bellossom was to battle - or perhaps she saw it as an opportunity to show off her dance to more people. Regardless, bellossom hence became a new member of Illya’s pokemon team replacing Cincinno.

If it wasn’t obvious enough, Bellossom loves to dance. She is rarely ever seen not at least swaying to its own beat while she’s outside her pokeball, and she becomes very eager when other pokemon or humans show an interest in learning her dance.

Evolved from an eevee that Illya had taken care of since she was a child, it alongside Mimikyu are the two most senior members of her current pokemon team and also the longest to have known her.

Sylveon is a free spirit, much like he had been when he was still a baby eevee. He enjoys roaming about a fair bit, though he takes care to not stray too far from Illya.

He’s very attached to Illya and much like other sylveons, understands his trainer’s emotional state well by wrapping his feelers around her hand while walking with her. Whenever Illya gets sad or upset, he often likes sitting in her lap, purring and nuzzling himself against her in an attempt to make her feel better. He also wraps his feelers around her in an attempt to soothe and calm her down whenever she cries.

Despite his adorable appearance, he’s actually very daring and fearless, never once backing down from a confrontation or fight with other pokemon even if they are multiple times his size or even if they are a type that holds an advantage against him.

Illya’s Sylveon is also very attached to Alphinaud’s Espeon, nuzzling himself to espeon whenever Alphinaud has it out.

Gardevoir was one of the latest pokemon to have joined Illya’s team. She is an extremely elegant, regal but also stoic member of the party.

Like other Gardevoir, she is able to read the future - and it was through her prediction that she foresaw her meeting with Illya and prematurely approached her. She is also able to distort dimensions and create black holes, though she rarely ever does the latter.

Much like Mimikyu and Corviknight, Gardevoir is extremely protective of Illya despite not having known her for as long as the others have and would not hesitate to expand her own psychic powers to her fullest if she feels like Illya may be in any sort of danger.

Though powerful, she doesn’t tend to like roaming about much and mostly stays within her pokeball unless Illya calls her out for food or battle.

Gardevoir’s demeanor and headstrong personality reminds Illya a lot of her late mother, and perhaps there is some deeper reason for why Gardevoir herself feels such a strong need to protect Illya as if she were her own kin.

Some of her pokemon are carried around with her as travel companions, only occasionally taking part in battles, while others are left at home to be cared for by her father.

TRAVEL COMPANIONS [to be updated as au is expanded on]

Vulpix: A male vulpix that Illya carries around and cuddles with during the winter or when she’s traveling through locations with colder climates. Out of all her pokemon who are not part of her main party of 6, vulpix is probably one of the most active and frequently called forth in battles that aren’t official tournament leagues or competitions. Illya also calls her vulpix out whenever fire is needed. He is brave and enthusiastic and hopes to one day evolve himself into Ninetales.

Dragonair: A gentle male dragonair that Illya caught near a lake one day during clear skies. It had dragged her into the sky and allowed her to ride on his back, soaring high into the clouds before dipping back down towards the waters. However, Illya lost her balance and fell into the water. He still feels bad about it to this day. He likes to curl around her to sleep.

Cinccino: A playful female cinccino who evolved from one of Illya’s minccino that she has been caring for as a child. She was once an active member of Illya’s party, but now is more of a travel companion who rarely ever battles now. Some people believe that Illya used the fur shed from Cinccino’s scarf to sew her own trademark scarf that she’s seen traveling around with now.

Rowlet: Though Illya gets along with many pokemon in general, birds in particular seem to be very fond of her. This male rowlet followed Illya as she was traveling through the woods and eventually became a part of travel party. He doesn’t see very many fights but he does love to cuddle and is very affectionate towards not just Illya but other pokemon and trainers.

Alcremie: A shy female Alcremie who offers sweets to new friends she meets. Illya often has reservations about eating the cream and berries secreted from her, but after being assured that it doesn’t at all hurt her Alcremie and that it’s offering of sweets is a sign of affection, Illya has started learning to indulge more in sweet foods more and more. Illya doesn’t have the heart to tell Alcremie she prefers spicy food, though.

Trevenant: A female trevenant that attacked a woodcutter that Illya saved while traversing through the forest. Convinced at first that Illya intended on harming the forest, it proceeded to trap her in a cage of trees until she was finally convinced to release Illya after witnessing the way Illya refused to let her vulpix burn the trees down just to escape. She follows Illya around and holds a lot of respect for the way Illya cared for nature and the environment.

Hatterene: A reclusive Hatterene Illya met during her travel. She once hated Illya, chasing her by emiting a strong psychic aura much like she does with other strangers. Upon sensing Illya’s lack of hostility and own gentle soul however, she eventually calmed down enough to allow Illya to approach. She is very moody and temperamental.

NOTABLE POKEMONS AT HOME [not including pokemon that belong to Lachlan or pokemon that belong to other people being taken care of]. List is NOT exhaustive!

Cleffa: A female cleffa born from Cocona’s retired Clefairy. As Cocona passed away shortly before cleffa was hatched, Illya became her owner / trainer instead. Though cleffa wishes to someday be a part of Illya’s team, grow stronger and evolve herself, Illya hasn’t quite allowed herself to let go of her mother’s death, and hence prefers to keep cleffa safe at home. It’s one of the rare instances where Illya has explicitly gone against a pokemon’s wishes, even if out of a genuine love and protectiveness of it.

Musharna: A female Musharna that eats the nightmares of Lachlan and any guests who come to stay over at their house. She sleeps a lot and frankly cannot care any less about battling.

Chimecho: A male Chimecho that Illya caught and took along with her on her journey for a while, before leaving him at home with Lachlan. He likes hanging himself to the roof of the house and swinging in the breeze. Not hearing chimecho’s wind chimes tells Lachlan and Illya that something is wrong.

Azurill: A male baby Azurill that Illya rescued. He is very timid and lacks a lot of confidence. He wants to get better at doing battle, but still has a lot of training to do before it can get to that point.

Beedrill: A male beedrill that was evolved from a weedle - the very first pokemon Illya ever caught in the wild on her own. She’s trained him personally as she grew up, and he saw many of her clumsy behavior and less experienced days. He’s sort of retired now, spending his days keeping the more rowdy pokemon in the daycare in check.

Theme songs

If pokemon au illya were to have a theme / ost track, it’d be this lovely re-orchestrated track of the Lacunosa Town Theme! It’s soft, peaceful and has a touch of melancholy which suits her perfectly. This, this and this remix also fits her and may double as her battle theme?

Illyanaud track mayyyybe?

Legendaries / Mythicals??

I didn’t include any legendaries or mythical pokemons into her roster because lore regarding those are that they’re very very rare BUT if Illya were allowed to have a legendary and a mythical pokemon, she’d probably own a Cresselia and a Celebi!

Cresselia, the Lunar Pokémon. Shiny particles are released from its wings like a veil. It is said to represent the crescent moon. On nights around the quarter moon, the aurora from its tail extends and undulates beautifully.

Celebi, the Time Travel Pokémon. This Pokémon wanders across time. Grass and trees flourish in the forests in which it has appeared. When Celebi disappears deep in a forest, it is said to leave behind an egg it brought from the future.

Shout out to Diancie, who is a close second choice solely based on the fact it’s design looks like what Illya would be if she herself were a pokemon.

Relationships with other OCs / NPCs

To be added!

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #illya skawi #headcanons #mine #the greatest treasures #pokemon au #ffxiv art #i looked over this post maybe more than fifty times now and #one half of my brain says this is long enough and nobody's gonna care to read it all #the other half is saying i should write more #THANK YOU SO MUCH KAI FOR THE ILLYA DRAWINGS #HONESTLY YOU'RE SUCH A SWEETHEART FOR MAKING MY IFFY DESIGN REQUESTS INTO A REALITY #i already have alphinaud's team planned out and what some of the extra pokemon he owns will be but #i don't have the strength...to edit graphics for him....

103 notes · View notes

haloud · 3 years

Text

things we could burn in one go (eminence) - chapter 8

also on ao3

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Isabel Evans & Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes Additional Tags: post-s2, Canon Compliant, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Starts Forlex Ends Malex, Other Characters May Appear, Tags Subject to Update, Mutual Pining, Breaking Up, Getting Together

Chapter Summary: Forrest returns from his trip, and he and Alex clash over Michael’s presence in his life.

Excerpt:

Was Forrest right?

Was he taking advantage of Michael? No. His first instinct was no. Michael came to him when he was in need—something Alex still wasn’t letting himself stop to process.

But the thing Forrest said about power…

If he searched himself, if he had to put it in such terms: Michael did make Alex feel powerful. He always had. From the very first day, when Alex offered the only thing he had—the rebellious kindness he practiced mostly because his father wanted to stamp it out—and Michael took it, took it shy and suspicious, but then grew towards him like a sunflower. That made him feel powerful. And it would be dishonest to say he didn’t feel powerful every time he came and went and no matter what Michael was still there waiting when he returned, no matter how much, yeah, Michael made him feel weak, too, knew just the right words to say to cut the deepest.

Control was a commodity. Alex starved for it his entire life and gorged himself when it was available, and only now was he in a place where he could begin on the work of balancing himself out. Michael told him once that he never said no to him—how able was Alex to judge when they crossed such old, familiar lines worn away by the traffic they’d seen over the past eleven years? How much could Michael be trusted to see those lines either, or to tell him if they were crossed instead of just taking it?

They needed to talk. They always needed to talk. It never got any easier. And what the hell was all the talking for, if not…that thing Forrest was worrying about? Not cheating, no, but was there still some part of him that still dreamed his old dream of what peace looked like, Michael in the early morning, and birdsong after rain, and nowhere to be but here?

Sorry I’ve been so quiet. It’s been a pretty stressful few days. I love the pictures, and I hope your trip was fun.

Alex pressed send and sent a picture of himself and Buffy cuddling in the early morning along with it.

Forrest’s reply was almost instant.

No problem, babe. It’s been great, but I’m also ready to be home…and see you again. 😉

He sighed. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he searched for the right words to explain the situation before Forrest walked right into it, to explain why he was sharing his home with Michael, to explain why Alex balked and deflected and talked his way around every suggestion that Michael could be on his own now, that he was healed enough to make do alone. Maybe Forrest wouldn’t understand, but Alex owed him at least that much. Right?

Looking forward to seeing you, too, he said, then dropped his phone onto his chest and ran a hand over his face.

The house was quiet around him. Michael was an early riser, but a stealthy one; thus far, even Alex’s hypersensitive hearing hadn’t been piqued or sent into an anxious, paranoid spiral by so much as the sound of a foot tread from rooms away. At first, the silence troubled Alex, brought up thoughts of Michael laying stuck in his bed afraid of disturbing Alex, afraid of him, but he’d started his own day only to find Michael’s already begun enough times now to find the quiet peaceful, thoughtful.

The buzz of his phone was jarring in comparison. He picked it up to check it.

Oh yeah? Been lonely there without me? 😉 😉 😉

Alex threw an arm over his eyes and groaned.

He was saved from having to come up with a response by another message coming through quickly: Kidding—the first group just got called to board, so I don’t have time for all that. See you soon, babe.

Alex responded, See you soon. Sure you don’t need a ride from the airport? Call me if Wyatt flakes.

I will. But I think it’ll be fine.

Okay. He hesitated again. This was his last chance to say something about Michael before Forrest was back in Roswell. But, chickening out, he just said, Call me even if you just don’t want to spend three hours in the car with him.

Forrest responded with a kissing emoji, and that was that.

Eventually, Alex got out of bed and got ready for the day. He’d taken to not wearing his uniform when off base in deference to Michael’s deep discomfort with it, and, though at times inconvenient, it was worth it to walk into the kitchen and see Michael at the table with a bowl of cereal, and for him to look up and smile at Alex instead of lean back and close off.

“Got any plans for today?” Michael asked as Alex checked his watch and grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter to eat on his way.

“Nothing much beyond work. Forrest is coming home today. He has a short layover in Denver, so between that and the drive from Albuquerque, he should get back to Roswell around the time I get off.”

“Oh. Right.”

Michael’s voice was flat, and Alex didn’t know what to do with it, so he stood at attention and waited for Michael to make the next move.

“Max will be devastated,” was all he said. In her basket in the corner, Buffy slept on.

Alex’s lips quirked up. “Maybe we can set up play dates for them. Honestly, Forrest would probably appreciate someone taking her to the park or something when he gets deep into writing or research.”

“Huh. I’ll let Max know.” He took the last bite of his cereal and stood to rinse it in the sink. Every day he regained a little more strength, but Alex’s keen eyes still couldn’t miss the uneven shakiness of his limbs or the hollowness around his eyes.

Alex checked his watch again. He needed to get going, but it was harder than he’d ever expected to leave Michael in the mornings, a thought that left guilty grit in the pit of his stomach. His heart and mind hit on a pattern he didn’t mean, a dangerous domestic assumption that wasn’t fair to anyone, not Michael, not himself, and not Forrest. The first few days, laying in the dark at night trying to locate Michael’s beat and breath from across the house, he’d told himself it was just worry for him that rooted those thoughts in his head, that if Michael was in his house for any other reason, things would be different. If it was a lie, well, Alex was comfortable with lying to himself.

“I’ll make myself scarce,” Michael was saying as he put his bowl in the drying rack.

“What?”

He shrugged and turned to face Alex, leaning his weight back against the counter. “I figured it’d be awkward if your boyfriend showed up and I was here. So I’ll make sure I’m gone by the time he gets back.”

“Michael, no.” Alex’s heart pounded sickly in his chest—Jones lying in wait to get Michael alone—Michael collapsing to the floor of his trailer, red pouring from his mouth, ears, and eyes—Michael powerless and pulled over on the side of the road to Sanders’s, apprehended and shoved in the back of a Project Shepherd van—"You can stay here as long as you need to—until we know it’s safe and the threats are eliminated. It’s not pity, it’s the same reason Max is living with Isobel right now, right? And she’s only got the one guest room.”

He was babbling, excuses flowing like wine. But no sacrificed dignity was too far if it meant keeping Michael safe—making him understand.

Continuing, he said, louder and firmer, “Frankly, no potential target should be alone right now. This shouldn’t wait until Thursday—I’m going to get in contact with Maria, Rosa, and Kyle today and work out a buddy system. Someone might have to double up; would it bother you if Maria—”

“Alex,” Michael interrupted softly. “It’s okay.”

Alex stopped in his tracks. When had he started pacing?

Michael stepped forward and, with only a heartbeat’s hesitation, so quick Alex might have imagined it, he put a warm, solid hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“If you think it’s safer, I won’t go anywhere.”

Swallowing, Alex nodded. His hand twitched at his side, but he didn’t pick it up to wrap it around Michael’s wrist and hold him there.

While they stood there, caught in the moment, dawn through the window catching dew on a spider’s web, Alex’s watch beeped little and tinny.

“Looks like you do gotta go somewhere,” Michael said, voice comfortingly casual, dropping his hand and stepping away.

“Right. I do. Look, we can just tell Forrest you were too sick to be alone. If he gets pissed, I’ll deal with it. It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to come between—”

“You’re not. I should have told him, but I didn’t, so I’ll handle the fallout. I have to go.”

“Okay.” Michael didn’t look comforted, but he didn’t fight. “See you later. I might pick up a half day at work, too. Not pushing myself,” he pre-empted.

Alex was now running too late to argue, so he had to leave it there, with just a text to Max at a red light: Michael going to work today. Call me if anything happens.

He didn’t hear from Max all day, and when he checked his phone after work, he had only a couple brief messages from Forrest confirming he made it to Denver and made it onto his connecting flight.

Made it to ABQ alright? He texted, and by the time he got home, he had a response.

Yeah. Super tired. Maybe I should have asked you after all…I’m stuck in the car with Wyatt’s music, ugh.

Michael’s car wasn’t in the driveway like Alex might have expected if he’d gotten a ride to Sanders’s and come back, but Alex took a deep breath and postponed spiraling over anything until he confirmed whether or not Michael was here. Shouldering his bag and locking his car, he made his way inside, responding with his other hand. Ugh indeed. I hope you brought the good headphones for blocking it—and him—out.

You know it, babe.

“Michael?” he called.

“In the den,” Michael replied.

There, Alex found him stretched out on the couch, ankles crossed and propped up on the arm so Buffy could sleep beneath them, a book in his hands that he set aside as Alex entered the room.

“How was your—what the fuck?”

Buffy’s head perked up at Alex’s voice, and she gave him a baleful look.

Michael grimaced. “Don’t freak out—”

“What the hell happened?”

In two strides, Alex crossed the space between them and grabbed Michael’s hand to examine it. He sported thick white gauze wrapped around his palm, and Alex had to fight down a scream of pure frustration.

“I just burned myself at work. It’s not as bad as it looks—Max just went overboard dressing it since I wouldn’t let him heal it.”

Alex scowled. Traitor.

“Have you had Kyle look at it? Why didn’t you let Max heal it? Why—”

“Alex! It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He sat up so their eyes were closer to level; Michael’s eyes were golden and earnest and exasperated and Forrest might already be back in Roswell and Alex couldn’t stand it.

Michael continued, “I’m not stressing Max’s heart or wasting Kyle’s time with something like this. Little injuries are common in the shop. I really am gonna be fine. You need to breathe.”

Following that advice, Alex closed his eyes, breathed in and counted, breathed out and counted. Of course something as small as a minor burn wouldn’t register to Michael. Alex had held those hands, felt them on his body, counted every tiny white scar and callous, claimed and cherished them when one was warped with pain and grief. This little injury was normal, routine, not anything to protect him from, not any proof of Alex’s failure. He needed to calm down.

“Your car isn’t here,” he said, changing the subject off of such heavy things.

“Yeah, Max picked me up and dropped me off. I could have driven, but you’re not the only person being overprotective right now.”

Hm. Maybe Max wasn’t such a traitor after all.

“And is Sanders—"

He cut off at the rattle of the doorknob. Buffy echoed the sound with a bark, and instinct had Alex reaching for his gun; he rotated himself to be between Michael and the door, even as Michael hissed in displeasure. But he couldn’t defend himself like this, without his powers, so Alex wasn’t taking any chances.

“Alex, hey, babe, you left the door unlocked!”

Oh. Alex dropped his head down and took his hand off his gun, running through his hair instead. Right.

“Hey, Forrest,” he called back, checking his phone as he spoke. No missed calls or messages. He caught Michael’s eye and grimaced as Buffy clambered off the couch and loped towards Forrest’s voice.

“Everything okay? It’s not like you to…”

Forrest froze in the mouth of the hallway, locking eyes with Michael on the couch, who in turn flicked his eyes to Alex like he had the answers to the awkward situation that just landed in their laps.

“Michael! This is unexpected. I didn’t realize you guys hung out,” Forrest said with impressively convincing but still false cheer. He tilted his head and shot Alex a questioning look, too, and defensiveness rose hackles in Alex’s head.

“He’s been sick, had a pretty bad fever a few nights in a row, so I told him to come over, since he lives alone and all,” Alex lied brusquely.

“Ah. Well. I hope you’re feeling better?”

“I think I’m gonna go chill outside,” Michael said, leaping up with a vigor he clearly didn’t possess at the moment, wobbling dangerously and, after righting himself, staggering toward the door.

Thank god his car wasn’t here so he could only get so far if he decided to take off.

As long as he didn’t suddenly rediscover the ability to teleport that almost killed him, that was.

“He’s been here for how long?” Forrest asked as soon as they were alone, voice still false and light. His eyes were lined and exhausted from travel.

Alex shrugged and, inclining his head to suggest Forrest follow him, he headed to the bedroom to put his gun in its safe. Buffy watched them go.

“A few days,” Alex said as they walked. “Like I said—he was sick, and he lives alone. Sorry, I should have warned you.”

“Oh. Well, I, uh. That’s okay, I guess. I didn’t know the two of you were that close?”

The safe beeped, and Alex stowed his firearm and closed it, spun the dial, and waited for the whir of the electronic lock engaging too. Then he turned to face Forrest and said, “We’re friends. We spend time together sometimes. You know, Thursdays?”

“Every Thursday.” Forrest’s voice was flat again. “Do you guys only hang out on Thursdays, or…?”

“We have different schedules, so it’s mostly Thursdays, but not always. Hell, Forrest, he was there when the two of us met, I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“That was months ago, and I’ve barely heard you mention him since we started dating, only seen him once, when we went to the bar. Remind me who comes to those little get togethers again? Or is it just you and Michael.”

“It depends on the week,” Alex said, growing increasingly defensive. His back was to the wall; he didn’t have much room to maneuver. His ears were ringing slightly. “But there are usually—we have the same entire friend group, hell, I invited you to a couple Thursdays, and you always said no! But, yeah, Michael hosts them, we hung out one on one a few fucking times, should I start giving you a numbered list of my known associates, or what? Fucking hell, Forrest.”

“Okay, okay, God. No, I don’t care who you see, I just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know, you’re exes! You’re—you’re almost more than that, even; I may not know the whole story, but you have unfinished business or whatever! I know your song was about him. So the idea of you two spending a ton of time together makes me insecure. And I know you can handle yourself, but I worry, with Guerin being—"

Alex drew back at that. “Guerin being what? He’s not dangerous just because he doesn’t meet your perfect standards, holy shit, Forrest.”

His own voice whispered wasting his life nastily in his ear, but he shoved it down. That was guilt for another time; right now his energy was better spent defending Michael from whatever the fuck accusation Forrest was trying to point his way.

“Right, right, I know.” Forrest ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Sorry, it just slipped out.”

“That doesn’t really make it better,” Alex snapped back.

Forrest sighed heavily. “I know. I know. I’m sorry, I was just really taken aback seeing him here after being gone—and you being so distant. Can you see how that might feel? Even though I trust you?”

Alex took a deep, cool breath. Yes, he could see it. He’d sat with the guilt and anxiety about it for days, even as he’d been unable to let go of Michael in his grasp. He could at least be gentle about Forrest’s reaction now. He reached out and took his hand and said, gently:

“Michael and I used to date, yes. But we’re friends now, and nothing else.”

But no matter how sincere he tried to be, Forrest’s face told him something in there was hollow. Alex’s stomach twisted.

Even if, the thought intruded, even if he did decide to cheat, he wouldn’t put Michael through all the hiding and sneaking and secret-keeping it would take, wouldn’t do that to him. Again. He shoved that thought away with force, before it could get its claws in him, as nauseous with stress as he already was.

A brief smile flickered across Forrest’s face. “Okay. Thank you. I trust you, okay? I do. I’m sorry for getting all controlling.”

He leaned up, and Alex kissed him lightly.

“Hey, now that Michael’s gone…” Forrest raised an eyebrow and tugged Alex’s hand lightly in the direction of the bed. “I was hoping we could have a date night in? Celebrate my homecoming? As long as you don’t have any plans, that is, I missed you and wanted to do something a little spontaneous…”

“Hold on, he stepped outside to let us talk, he didn’t leave leave. He’s staying until he’s out of the woods with whatever he’s got.”

The glitter that had sprung up in Forrest’s eyes winked out again. “He looked fine to me.”

“He almost passed out when he stood up! I’m not leaving him by himself while he’s sick. That doesn’t mean we can’t still go out—”

“And what, I’ll have you home by ten with a nice chaste kiss on the doorstep? Or we can go back to my place, where Wyatt will be playing Xbox in the den.”

This was the sharpest Forrest had ever spoken to Alex, and his mind spun blank tape trying to come up with the appropriate reaction. Where was this coming from? Had Alex crossed such a line, gone so far that Forrest wouldn’t trust him at all? What about his reaction to Michael bled so far out of the boundaries he tried to draw, betrayed his heart so badly with no regard for what he knew he should want? What was wrong with him?

Forrest continued, just as piercing, “Or would we still come back here? Because I figured that’d be off the table, since you’ve gotten pissed any time I even hinted we might do anything with someone else within restraining order distance, but I’m more than happy to fuck with Guerin in the next room.”

Shock dropped Alex’s jaw at that one. “What the hell is your problem tonight? If this is how insecurity looks on you, maybe I don’t want to fuck tonight anyway. Maybe we should go out some other night.”

“I just don’t get why he has to be here, and not at his sister’s! Or hell, his girlfriend’s? Does she know he’s here?”

Utterly out of patience, guilt firmly faded in the face of budding fury, Alex snapped back, “Forrest, you are more social than this dumpy town knows what to do with. You’re involved in like four events every weekend, half of them at the Wild Pony, you cannot tell me you didn’t get that Maria and Michael broke up the first three times someone told you.”

“So his new girlfriend’s, whatever.”

“What, just because he’s bi, he has to jump right into—”

“That’s not what this is about, that’s not fair, Alex!”

“Okay! Fine. But what is it about? Because…”

Alex’s heart pounded harder as he realized what had his anxiety rising so fast and thick in his throat. Forrest set the tone and pace of their relationship, even if he set it as slow as he thought Alex needed, and Alex let him because Forrest was the one with dating experience, the one who knew how these things were supposed to work. But…

Swallowing hard, Alex said, “Because if this is you saying I’m choosing Michael over you—if you’re trying to tell me I can’t be friends with my ex, that’s a hard line for me. That’s not your call. I’ve never hidden how important Michael is to me from you, and it’s not on me if you elected not to notice. You’re not turning this on me when he needs my help.”

Forrest scowled and raked his fingers through his hair. “Never, huh? ‘It was a long time ago’ ring a bell to you? Never mind. Whatever. Just…you’re too nice, Alex. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of by a deadbeat ex or friend or whatever he is.”

“Deadbeat?” Alex whisper-shrieked. “I just told you he’s my friend, and you, what, you have to tear him down because of that? The only goddamn thing you know about him is what he has the audacity to Google next to you when you’re writing your oh-so-important Nazi fanfic, so maybe hold off on the judgment.”

Forrest’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline as Alex spoke, and by the time Alex was done he was storming out of the bedroom, Alex on his heels. “Okay, sure. Yeah, that’s it, I’m just jealous of the guy who hangs around you begging for scraps because you two used to get your dicks wet and he can’t move on like you did. Whatever. That’s none of my business, right. I do have eyes, Alex. I see what’s going on. But I’ll see you around some other time, once you’re over the power trip he gives you.”

“Forrest, wait. Forrest!”

“I’ll see you around, Alex. Buffy, come on, girl,” he called with a whistle, barely stopping to get her leash on before storming out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

And then Alex was alone in the entryway, watching Forrest leave through the window, stalking right past Michael huddled in a deck chair without a glance, and Alex’s jaw clenched harder when Forrest slammed his car door shut too and sped away.

Fuck. Fuck him. This wasn’t their first fight by any means, but the part of Alex that suspected he was too fucked up for an easy, normal relationship said maybe it was their last.

Would that be so bad? Would Alex actually miss Forrest, or would he miss the kind of relationship Forrest gave him, the kind that felt like what he should want, the kind that made him happier than loneliness did all the time except when it didn’t?

Okay, but now wasn’t the time to think thoughts like that, not in the moment, not so immediately, with hurt and anger still pumping red inside him. Especially not when the fault was largely Alex’s fault for not giving him warning in advance. Now was the time for deep breaths and not throwing things against the wall, no matter how much he might want to.

And as the fury left him, bit by bit, as his pulse slowed and his muscles relaxed and the clock again ticked louder than his breathing, it left this behind:

Was Forrest right?

Was he taking advantage of Michael? No. His first instinct was no. Michael came to him when he was in need—something Alex still wasn’t letting himself stop to process.

But the thing Forrest said about power…

A knock hesitated on the edge of Alex’s hearing, then came again, a little firmer, and anxiety propelled Alex down the foyer to answer it. Michael was still out there—something could have happened to him—or he could have left—Alex would call Isobel in to look for him, that was the backup plan, but—

Luckily, his front hall wasn’t long enough for him to truly get into a spiral; and even luckier, it was Michael at the door. Alex’s shoulders slumped with relief.

“You didn’t have to knock,” he said, stepping aside to let Michael back in.

Michael shrugged. “Wasn’t sure if you’d locked up in case Long decided to come back uninvited.”

With a snort, Alex closed the door and double checked both locks this time around. It really wasn’t like him to leave anything unlocked, but he’d pencil that freakout in for later.

That reminded him, though. “Speaking of locking up, here.” He opened a drawer in the little hall table and tossed Michael a spare key. “If you’re going to be going into work, or even just going out to hang out with Max and Isobel or Maria or someone.”

Michael caught it, but then he just stared at it like it was a shaken can of soda about to pop. “I, uh, kind of figured I’d be getting out of your hair.”

No! Alex wanted to shout, his already frayed nerves colliding with the visceral thought of Max’s healing failing or reversing somehow and Michael dying alone on the floor of his trailer. But he kept his voice level when he spoke, “I thought we talked about this.”

“We did! But I thought, with Forrest—”

“He can get pissed at me all he wants. The important thing is that we don’t know what Jones might try next, and we don’t know how what he did to you works, and as long as your powers aren’t back to normal…”

“I don’t want to—”

Heart rabbiting in his chest, Alex burst out, “Look, I get that you don’t want to be here, but my first priority is your safety, and—!”

“Of course I want to be here!” Michael interrupted. His eyes were wide and wild, hair a halo around his face.

“You—”

Both of them were panting like they’d run for miles, done anything but the running away and around each other they’d done their whole lives. The setting sun lined Michael in gold, slanted across the floor and the walls and got in Alex’s eyes but left the rest of him untouched.

Alex licked his lips and tried to speak again. “You don’t want to leave?”

Raking his hand through his curls, Michael replied, “Of course I don’t. I never want to leave. I want…” He spread his arms wide in a helpless gesture. “I don’t even know. Everything I’ve always wanted! But before anything else, I just want you to be happy. I’d never forgive myself if I destroyed your life even more than I already have.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex demanded. “Destroy my life? I’m the one who put you in my father’s path—I’m the one who—”

“No, Alex.”

He stepped forward like he might reach out. Alex wanted him to, but. What was he allowed to want? How had they gotten here, to this point, again or for the first time, and Alex still didn’t know the answer?

“That’s ancient history,” Michael said gently. “You could never destroy anything, you’re…”

Alex let out a harsh laugh. “Have you met me?”

“Alex.”

“I literally went into the business of destroying things and chose it four times since, even after it destroyed a part of myself.”

Furious tears blurred his vision, blurred Michael, and it only made him angrier and more desperate. What didn’t he understand?

“Yeah, and I think that sucks!” Michael said, chest rising and falling like it might if he was laughing, but the sound he made was more like hailstones, heavier and colder than rain. “But I—I’ve made my own sucky choices, too, I’m not letting you take credit for them just so you can bury yourself with them.”

“You were the one who started talking about destruction. I’m not letting you do that either,” Alex accused. “What could you possibly be destroying except yourself? I’m the one keeping you here.”

“Really? Like I didn’t just punch a hole through your relationship just by hangin’ around? I’m no good and you know that, Alex, you should—”

His heart fluttered so fast he had to clear his throat before he could talk.

“Should just walked out that door. And he took his dog,” he said breathlessly.

A beat of silence followed. Then, the corner of Michael’s mouth twitched—Alex’s eyes dropped to watch it—and he dissolved into disbelieving giggles, leaning back against the door like he needed it to hold himself up.

When he could speak again, he thumbed a tear away from the corner of his eye and said, “What are we doing here, Alex?”

“I—don’t know. I never know what I’m doing.”

“That’s not true.”

“Okay, emotionally,” Alex allowed. “Forrest wanted to date me, and he’s so normal, I thought I could, I don’t know, follow his lead and things would just slot into place. But I’m starting to think it doesn’t work that way.”

“I gotta tell you, Alex, you’ve never been great at follow the leader,” Michael said, so gently Alex almost felt it on his skin, a palm cupping his cheek.

“But I can try. I can learn new things,” he said. “So—what about your lead? What, what are we doing here?”

Michael swallowed, the apple of his throat bobbing.

“I’m as clueless as you,” he said. “And I’m not ashamed to say shit scared, either. There’s a lot of things with you and me I’ve spent a long time telling myself either won’t work out or shouldn’t. I’m scared of all the shit I’ve said before. But some of it—a lot of it stands. I wanna be good for someone. I wanna be good for you, even if I know I’ll never be perfect—”

“You don’t have to be perfect. Nobody’s perfect,” Alex breathed.

“Right. That’s what they tell me.”

The two of them balanced on the edge of a knife, barely enough oxygen between them to sustain them both without sharing. There were always two ways this could go. The paths diverged again and again and again and they turned away from the clear path so many times it made the both of them half-feral. But, inevitable, like the summer sun, like gravity and escape velocity, here they were, again, at the crossroads.

Michael swallowed again, then his lips parted, then again.

“What do you want to say, Michael?” Alex asked.

“I want to tell you that I love you. That I have for a long time.” His voice cracked. “And that, no matter what happens, I always will. But I don’t know what to do with it, after this long, and now that things have been good between us, what if we fuck it up again? What if—”

Alex’s mind whirled, with words he thought he’d never hear, with the accusations Forrest had hurled his way, about power and control and all those things that, like Michael’s heart, Alex had far to go to wield responsibly, but here was a greater truth:

Alex had never been great at talking.

He seized the front of Michael’s shirt in both fists and hauled him in for a kiss.

Michael gasped against his mouth. His lips were hot, all of him burned, blazed against Alex wherever they touched, and they touched, as Michael relaxed against him, his hands grasping Alex by the elbows and sliding up to his shoulders, the sides of his neck, holding him there as they swayed, mouths locked together. He tasted just as Alex remembered. A cascade of shudders washed down his spine and washed away every other sensation.

They kissed in the sunset sunlight, in Alex’s home in front of the front windows, and Alex buried his hands in Michael’s hair and devoured him in the open, away from any place he used to hide him, under bedsheets, in anonymous rooms, in the back of his head when he was sure he was alone. When they pulled apart, they came back together, both of them insatiable, until Alex’s lips buzzed and the ache from standing too long crept in.

Michael was wobbly too, so Alex took him by the hand and pulled him deeper inside.

“We should probably keep talking,” Michael rasped.

“We’ve got a lot of time for that. As much as we need,” Alex promised.

He knew his priorities, now. That was a promise he’d never break again.

“Forrest—”

“If he didn’t mean to break up with me when he left an hour ago, I’ll take responsibility,” Alex dismissed.

“Okay, okay.”

When Alex glanced over at Michael, he was smiling and shaking his head.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just forgot how much I like a man who takes charge.”

At that, Alex had to laugh too, and the sound came out so different, light and giddy, that he surprised himself.

“Bullshit,” he said. “After all this time, you think you still have to flirt with me?”

Michael tugged him by their joined hands. They’d only made it as far as the den and they were kissing again, just long enough to get them buzzing again.

“Only ‘cause you like it,” Michael murmured against his lips. “It’s a crowd pleaser.”

“I love it,” Alex confirmed, so soft he shaped the words more than he said them, but they were loud to him—Michael’s face changed, and Alex knew they were loud enough.

#this is not the most recent chapter #but ive been delinquent with the crossposting #malex fic #my fic #michael guerin #alex manes #sorry to my forlex pals the breakup is in this chapter i hope ive done you guys justice all the same

18 notes · View notes

phantom-curve · 3 years

Text

find the strength, find the melody pt. 9

SURPRISE SHAWTY! I literally made a post yesterday about how this wouldn’t update until the weekend but then I drank some wine at noon and now HERE WE ARE. I love this chapter and I haven’t felt that about my writing in WEEKS. man, these middle of the night chapters are just absolutely my favorite thing. hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. (and yes, I did cry while writing Julie’s lil rant about Rose. what else is new?)

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder, @kat-maybe-not, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist

Julie should have expected this.

When the boys had left earlier, she had seen the telling glances between Alex and Reggie going back and forth from Luke to the studio and occasionally skipping over Julie herself when they thought she wasn’t looking. She had waved to them from the steps leading up to the house from the studio as they made their way to the van. She knew the moment she had been blocked from their view by the way they started playfully shoving Luke around, hooking thumbs behind them to point at the spot they didn’t know she was still lingering in. She watched Luke duck away from their teasing, opting to climb in the back of the van where the instruments would usually be stored. No one chose that spot in a band van willingly. It was clear he was trying to hide from Alex and Reggie. She caught a quick glimpse of that damn hand rising to the back of his neck before he was lost in the darkness of the van’s interior. The other boys exchanged a knowing look, twin grins stretched across their faces, before they piled in the van as well and took off down her street.

So, the boys knew he had spent the night before sleeping in her mom’s studio. Whatever. She trusted them not to spread it around the school or make it into a bigger deal than it was. Whether or not they cared about her reputation, they would want to protect Luke. Julie firmly believed they would keep that knowledge to themselves, unless they decided she was fair game for teasing as much as Luke was. The fact that they hadn’t brought it up during rehearsal or in front of her made her believe the worst of the ribbing would be reserved for Luke. She figured that would be the end of it. Luke would have some explanation to give them, and Julie had gotten pretty good at dodging conversations she didn’t want to have, so on the off chance they tried to talk to her about it she would simply deflect. No biggie.

What she had not expected was for Luke to reappear several hours later, caught red handed sneaking back into the studio. She probably should have expected it, but she had spent a few hours away from his overwhelming presence, and the quiet time had been enough for her to convince herself that all of those fluttery feelings passing between them earlier were simply in her imagination. So, when she climbed out of bed at midnight to jot some lyrics down and tuck them into her dream box, she had been surprised to see a small light on outside. Her first reaction was panic. That studio held every important memory Julie had of her mom. If someone had broken in or caused any damage to the space, she might not be able to survive the emotional fallout. Not to mention, she had promised the boys she would keep their instruments safe, and she wasn’t about to break that vow. Which was how she found herself standing in the open doorway in her fuzzy monster slippers and mismatched pajamas, the heavy cross from the dining room wall held in front of her like a weapon, jaw on the floor.

“Luke, what the hell?!”

Julie couldn’t stop the exclamation, even as she cringed away from the defensive look in his eyes. She dropped her arms immediately, the cross dangling limply at her side.

“Julie! I...uh...forgot my pick?”

His voice was rough, rising to a squeak on the last word, and Julie couldn’t help the way her eyebrow rose questioningly. He wasn’t even holding a pick. A fact he seemed to realize as he dropped his gaze to quickly scan the area they had left the instruments set up in. She didn’t even have to guess that his next move would be to reach for his neck. Without thinking about it, she took three quick steps forward to grasp his wrist with her free hand as it started to rise. He startled slightly, turning back to meet her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat at the raw vulnerability swimming in the stormy ocean depths of his eyes. There was a tinge of red around his irises, and she could just make out the sheen of drying tears on his cheeks in the low light.

“Are you...” She swallowed hard against the butterflies swirling in her gut. “Do you need a place to stay tonight?”

Julie kept her eyes locked on his, even as they flickered with some kind of internal conflict. She didn’t push farther than that, leaving him the space to decide for himself what it was he wanted out of this interaction. He had come here for a reason, even if he had originally intended to keep that reason a secret. She fought against the desire to pull him close for a hug. They hadn’t breached that barrier just yet. She did allow her fingers to slip from their hold on his wrist and travel down to entangle with his. That kind of comfort was safe, still tiptoeing the line of being just friends. His eyes searched her face for a moment before he squeezed her hand, pulling just enough that she had to step closer to him. Just like earlier, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up. I can go...”

Julie tightened her hold before he could pull his hand away. Queen of deflection that she was, she saw right through what he was doing. He might want to give into her on a subconscious level, but there was a part of him that he was holding back. She thought back to the whole dinner debacle and his fears over disappointing her family. His fears over disappointing her. He was trying to reject himself before she got the chance to, not realizing that ship had long since sailed for her. She was firmly a passenger on the SS Luke now, having jumped ship mere hours ago in this very same garage. To reject him in this moment would be like rejecting a part of herself.

“Luke, no, please don’t leave. It’s okay. You can stay here.”

She made sure to keep her voice soft. Luke’s conflicted gaze flitted across her face, like he didn’t fully believe it would just be that easy. She gave a tug of her own, stepping backwards so he didn’t topple her as he moved forward. She placed the cross on the floor, moving around it with Luke’s hand still glued to hers until they were in front of the couch. He didn’t fight her, following her lead willingly even as he avoided the concerned look on her face. She dropped onto the couch, curling her legs underneath her and reaching out with her empty hand to wrap around the one that still held his. It wasn’t the hug she wanted to give him, but it was as close as she was willing to get at the moment. He glanced at their hands, a slight smile playing at the edges of his lips before letting out a bone deep sigh and sinking down into the space next to her.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Julie murmured, her fingers stroking over the bumps of his knuckles and the rough calluses on his fingertips, “but my mom always used to say that the studio was the one place where I didn’t have to hide. You don’t have to hide here either. It can be your safe space, too.”

She didn’t look up from where she was drawing patterns on the back of his hand. It still hurt, to think about her mom, to talk about her knowing that she would only exist in memories from now on. But something about Luke made it a little bit easier. Her mom would have liked him, she realized somewhat ruefully. It was a shame they wouldn’t ever get to meet, but maybe that was part of what made him that much more important to Julie. He helped her remember those bits and pieces of her mom that she would have otherwise locked away. They sat in silence for a long moment, but it was more comforting than awkward. Julie tried not to jump when she felt Luke’s head fall to rest on her shoulder. His breath ghosted along her collarbone, sending goosebumps rippling across her skin.

“What was she like?”

It wasn’t a question she had expected him to ask. She could tell by the way he said it, whispered into the chilled air on a soft exhale, that he wouldn’t ask again if she chose to pretend she hadn’t heard him. All at once, she wanted nothing more than to tell him everything.

“She was...she was everything.”

The pain that was always under the surface when it came to talking about Rose Molina threatened to choke her, but a stronger feeling of needing to share this with Luke overpowered it. Julie cleared the emotion from her throat and pushed on.

“She was like the sun and the moon and the stars all rolled into one. An entire universe in one single person. No one loved like she did. It was all-encompassing. My dad told me once that he knew from the first moment he saw her that she would change his life. I thought that was just for us for a long time, just for our family. But I was wrong. She was like that with everyone. I remember one time I asked him why we couldn’t ever go somewhere without Mom making a new friend and he looked at me with so much happiness and whispered like he was sharing the secret to life itself: ‘Everyone falls a little bit in love with your mom when they meet her, mija. She’s magic like that.’ And she was. She was absolute magic. She had the biggest heart and the sweetest smile, and she always knew exactly what to say. When we lost her, it felt like my world collapsed in on itself. It still feels like that sometimes. Like, how can I exist somewhere that she doesn’t? Sometimes it feels like it has to be a dream because a world without my mom? A world without the very light that created existence itself? That shouldn’t be possible.”

Julie didn’t realize she was crying until one of Luke’s rough fingers was brushing the tears from her cheeks. She finally looked up from where their hands were still clasped together. His eyes drilled into hers, silently communicating that he understood, and she couldn’t fight against the need to be close to him any longer. She launched herself into his lap, face curled into the pocket of warmth where his neck met his shoulder, hands twisting into the fabric of his cut up tank-top like he was the only thing anchoring her to the world right then. He caught her without question, strong arms locking around her waist and one hand rising to rest on the back of her head. Julie let the sob that had been building in her chest explode.

“I miss her so much. She was the best mom, and it’s not fucking fair that she isn’t here anymore.”

The words were muffled against Luke’s skin, but she knew by the way he tightened his hold that he had heard them just the same. Julie didn’t know how long they sat like that. Being with Luke made time feel meaningless. He didn’t say anything, just tangled his fingers into her curls and nuzzled his nose against her temple until the tears finally subsided. She could feel the wet stain she had left along his collar against her cheek. That same smell that had drifted off of his towel earlier tickled her nose, foreign and yet comfortingly familiar all at the same time. She inhaled deeply, letting it seep into her bones until she knew she would recognize it anywhere. He swallowed and she felt the way his neck flexed, but she didn’t move from the cocoon of his arms.

“You’re like that too, ya know.”

Luke’s voice was so gentle she thought she might start crying again. The hand that was wrapped low around her hip traced feather light swirls against the thin strip of skin exposed there. Julie released a shuddery breath, pulling away just enough that she could look at his face, their noses almost brushing at the movement.

“The sun and the moon and the stars? That’s you, too. You’re just as magical, just as all-encompassing. All the best parts of your mom live on in you, Julie.”

His voice dipped, eyes blazing as they lowered to her lips for a brief second before rising to meet hers again. Julie felt her mouth fall open slightly, allowed herself to drown in the clear blue-green sea of his gaze. She gulped and watched him track the movement before he spoke again.

“I think I know exactly how your dad felt. I think I’ve been a little bit in love with you for years.”

His cheeks blazed bright red on that final quiet declaration, Julie’s warming to match. Neither one of them broke their stare down, and Julie thought she could feel the physical shift in the universe that was the two of them snapping into place together. The final piece of her soul being righted after a year of feeling lost and alone. Luke shifted impossibly closer, closing the last few millimeters of space between them so every part of their bodies pressed against each other.

“I wish you could have met her.”

The confession was wrenched from the softest part of her heart, meant only for Luke’s ears in this quiet moment that felt both infinite and precious.

“I do, too. But I’d like to think that a part of me did get to meet her. When I used to listen to you two play together, sometimes I would pretend I was right there with you, practicing scales and vocal warm-ups. You mom loved you so much, and I could hear it every time you guys were out here. I read that song so many times that even though I knew it was yours, it felt a little bit like mine, too. She might not be here physically, but her spirit is. I know you can feel it out here, and I can too. Nowhere else has ever felt as safe and loving as being here does.”

Luke’s voice had trailed off until it was nothing more than a breathy whisper on the last few lines. Julie felt her chest squeeze and burn, a fire lit within her soul for Luke and Luke alone. He was so right, and it was almost scary that he seemed to understand her so deeply after just a few days. And yet, at the same time, nothing else had ever felt so right.

Julie had never really believed in signs from the beyond before. She had begged for even a scrap of something to prove that her mom was still around for a year and had never received anything. But that had changed since the day Luke quite literally knocked her off of her feet. Now it was like everywhere she looked she could see the little parts of her mom that still lingered all around. Here, in the middle of the night, surrounded by the same four walls that her mom had infused with so much love, Julie felt like Luke was the ultimate sign. He had been the catalyst that led to her finding herself again, and all of that came down to her mom’s song. The song that Luke had rescued and protected for a year. The song that was the last love letter from her mom was also the first love letter from Luke. Everything had fallen back into place when he entered her life, and Julie couldn’t help but think that was her mom’s doing.

“Will you stay? The whole night? I meant it when I said this can be your safe space. She would have liked that.”

It wasn’t quite the same as Luke almost declaration of love, but Julie knew that he saw it for the serious gesture that it was. The way his pupils dilated and his hand flexed against her waist told her that he was reading in between her words, seeing everything she was leaving unsaid because it felt a little too big just then. He felt it just as strongly as she did, this thing between them that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.

“I’ll stay.”

Two simple words, one simple statement. But Julie heard what he really meant. This promise wasn’t just for the night, it was eternal. The weight of it pressed against her like the baby blanket she still sometimes curled up with at night, strong and secure and never ending in its comfort. Two words that were a stand in for the three he couldn’t say just yet. Fire burned low in her belly, licking a path up to her heart and searing across her chest. Their eyes locked, a million emotions they weren’t ready to express flowing back and forth between them like a river. Overwhelmed, Julie pulled his head close and pressed her lips against his for the briefest moment before leaping from the couch. Stunned by her own boldness, she raised her fingertips to her lips and caught Luke doing the same. Like they could each feel the lingering phantom of the other.

“Okay, so, uh...I’ll see you in the morning?”

Julie’s voice cracked and she fought hard to steady it before continuing.

“My dad will leave at the same time so just, uh, wait until you hear him go and then come up to the house? Okay, yeah, okay...goodnight!”

She made a beeline for the studio doors, taking full advantage of Luke’s shocked silence to escape before she could embarrass herself even more by kissing him again. The sound of his melodic voice stopped her before she could make it outside.

“Hey, Julie?”

She turned, cheeks burning red hot and heart on fire. He was looking at her like she hung the moon, eyes bright and face shining with unbridled joy. Some of the jittery nervousness leeched from her limbs at the sight of him looking so at her so softly. Not trusting herself to speak, she tilted her head and waited a beat for him to continue. A smile broke across his face like the dawning of a new day and Julie found herself momentarily blinded by his shine.

“Sweet dreams.”

It was a gentle hum, his way of sending her off to bed with the sweetest lullaby imaginable playing in her head. It took everything she had to resist the urge to fling herself into his arms again. Instead, she bit her lip with a smile, turned on her heel, and fled back inside to the relative safety of her room. It was an hour and an entire ballad composed later that she was finally able to close her eyes and sleep, the memory of the way Luke’s lips felt against hers playing out in every single dream she had that night.

23 notes · View notes

bibliocratic · 4 years

Text

For @babtest, who asked for the prompt: Martin showing normal, genuine human anger.

Jon/Martin, set in a nebulous post-160 AU. Cws in the tags.

“And if you want me to call – ”

“I know, I'll send a message.”

“And if you don't feel safe, or you want out of there, there doesn't have to be a reason – ”

“Jon.”

“I'll have the phone on me in case – ”

“Jon,” Martin snaps, and his voice is saw-toothed, edged with an irritation that serves as a defensive carapace to his nerves. “It's – it's fine, he's probably not going to be there anyway, this whole thing is going to be a waste, s-so would you please stop fussing, for – ” He releases a grunt of annoyance but tries to muster some calm, breathing with heavy huffing sounds. “I just need... this bloody Christ, this tie – ”

Martin's made a knot-eyed strangle-hold mess of it in his rush, and he tugs angrily at it, making it worse.

“Do you want me to – ?”

“No, I don't! Would you just let me do it! God forbid I be able to do it myself.”

Martin's voice raises to a shout that dips into a hollow of passive aggressive sniping. Jon stills, steps back from where he's been moving into Martin's space and crowding him, and tries not too feel too hurt, pushes down the knee-jerk cutting responses that will neither be helpful or deserved.

Martin tussles with the tie for a few more vicious seconds, his smart shirt having been tucked, untucked and re-tucked again and taking on a rumpled, disturbed pattern. He finally breathes out again, a heavy, weighted breath, closing his eyes. He takes a few calculated, noticeably deeper inhales and exhales that Jon recognises as the deep breathing his therapist taught him. Jon lets him tide through it.

“I'm sorry for snapping,” Martin says lowly, roughly. “I didn't mean – I'm not handling this very well. That's no reason to take it out on you.”

“Considering how many times I was short with you, you probably still have a surplus until we're even close to equal,” Jon replies, trying for levity. Martin wrings the abused tie miserably in his hands, and Jon wishes that this was easier, that this wasn't drawing out all of Martin's embedded poisons, his anxieties he's long laboured to conquer.

“Can you – Will you help? With the tie?” Martin says in a smaller voice, and Jon takes a step into Martin's unhappy orbit, and removes it gently from his hands.

“Of course,” he replies. “If you want to wear it. But you – Martin, you look good without it. And you hate ties.”

The last time he'd worn one was at his mum's funeral, Jon both knows and Knows. He hadn't been able to tie it then either.

“I want – ” Martin says, looking frustrated when the words don't come as easily as he desires. “It looks professional, yeah? Smart? I don't want to look – do I look like I'm, I dunno, trying too hard? It's – huh – it's only a cafe, right, not the bloody Ritz or something – will it, do you think it'll look too desperate?”

Jon touches Martin's arm with his hand. Martin's fidgeting with his shirt sleeves, the buttons at the cuffs, keeps tugging them down like he's worried they're not long enough. He twists and twists and twists his wedding ring and bleeds out nerves like a weather front stagnating in fog, and Jon selfishly wants him to cancel.

“You'll look fine,” he replies. “Smart, and put-together. And I'll think you look handsome, but that's by the by.” That coaxes Martin's lips to twitch. “But you don't... you don't have to wear it, if it's going to... if you're uncomfortable in it. Especially if you think not wearing it will make him disapprove or some nonsense.”

Martin huffs a sound that's the verbal equivalent of a long-suffering eye-roll.

“Spooky mind-reader strikes again, huh.”

“Fear my psychic powers,” Jon dead-pans, and Martin chuffs another one of those aborted half-laughs. Then, quieter, softer. “Want me to help with it?”

“I – I think I'll leave it,” Martin responds finally, with a nod to himself. “It's a Costa anyway, I'm just going to look like a hipster anyway in this shirt.”

“It's that and the beard,” Jon agrees, rubbing his hand at the thick scratchy weave of it until Martin bats his hand away with a 'get off you'. “Do you need your umbrella?”

“ 's only ten minutes down the road, should be alright.”

“You get caught in a downpour, it's your own fault.”

Martin's lips do actually quirk in a smile then, finding the grooves of their light-hearted bickering as a comforting oft-replayed melody.

“Your compassion never ceases to astound me.”

“You didn't have to marry me.”

“Not like any one else was going to do the job.”

“How noble and public-spirited of you.”

Jon kisses Martin's lips briefly, raising himself up on socked tip-toes. Martin's hand slots into his, faintly trembling.

“Whatever you decide, I'll support your decision,” he says in the tight woven space of their bodies. “Even if this isn't what you want, or even if it is.”

Martin nods, and returns a dry, bristly kiss in return before he heads out.

It starts spitting with rain not a minute later.

Jon has not been blessed with an abundance of patience. Martin's meeting is at half two, but he checks his phone at obsessive intervals, watching the screen lighten and the clock on analogue mode work through the grinding seconds. In case Martin's changed his mind. In case he wants out, doesn't want to do this. In case he was stood up, or is sat alone because there was some problem with traffic, or, or, or.

Jon, half-heartedly, tries a great number of things to distract himself, and to avoid any instances of Knowing. After an hour, he's given channel-hopping a go – watching five minutes of a mid-afternoon western, and then ten minutes of a reality show about buying houses on the coast and renovating them. (Martin loves these types of programmes, and in the spirit of them is trying to doggedly renovate the front hall. Meaning that any time Jon wants to go to the front door, he has to pick his way over old blankets thrown down to protect the flooring from paint drips, Martin's small forest of tester pots and paint pots and drying brushes).

Martin's got a window seat – the window misted with condenseness, some child has imprinted a pudgy hand as a calling card – has ordered a mocha – over-sugared, tacky in his mouth, he regrets the choice immediately –

SHUT UP, Jon fumes at himself, and tries to read, manages a few pages before he's struck with the frisson of Martin's spiking anxiety every time the ding of the cafe door pipes up, and stomps into the kitchen to occupy his mind by making himself an unappetizing lunch that he doesn't even want to eat.

His phone remains silent. Jon fights the powerful urge to send a brief check-up message, a little everything going ok? but stops himself. Martin's going to have enough on his plate.

Jon frets and waits for him to come home.

–

There's the plaintive squeak of the front gate (Martin will need to oil it again), and Jon sits up from where he's been petting the cat and poorly playing one of Martin's hand-held console games. He's been on the same level for about an hour now, and stubbornness is preventing him from giving it up as a lost cause.

The pad of two footsteps.

“You've – the flowers are nice. That you've got growing.”

“Thanks. It's not really – it's more Jon than me. He's pretty green-fingered.” The footsteps peter out. “So – er, well, this is me, heh. Close by.”

“Time really flew, huh.”

“Yeah. T-thanks for the, thanks for the coffee – ”

“Don't mention – ”

“ – and for the walk back – ”

“ – You can keep the umbrella, if you – ”

“N-no, it's, it's fine.”

The conversation stalls and splutters like an engine with the wrong fuel. Jon's moved out into the hallway, the cat restless but demanding in his arms, and sees the blurred bulk of Martin's stiff shoulders in the frosted glass pane of their front door, set high like he's shoved his hands into his pockets.

Jon skirts around the paint pots to get nearer.

“So,” the other voice – and it's so similar, strikes the same gulleys and furrows, the stop-and-start of thoughts eking their way out into expression, and it wrong-foots Jon to hear it, the ill-matching echo of it. “I – I'll see you again? If you, that is – I really liked... It was good. To catch up, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Martin says, and he sounds wrung out, straining on some mental rack he's internalised. “It was. Yeah. It was good to see you.”

“You want to do coffee again, sometime?”

“I – er. Maybe. Maybe.”

The first fuzz of hurt creeps to moss over the over-eager nervousness of the other voice. “Oh. Er, yeah. S-sure. That's... it's not a problem. Why, why maybe?”

Martin's hackles go up defensively. “I'm not sure, alright?”

“Was everything ok?”

“I guess relatively?”

“What's that mean?”

“Relatively as in, it's been thirty years, there's a few things to iron out after all that. Hence the, y'know, the maybe.”

“Right,” comes the response. “I am – you know I am trying here.”

Martin's voice goes low and flat and judgemental.

“And how long until you lose interest this time?”

There's a punch of silence. The cat buts against Jon's chin. Through the vague blurring of the glass, Martin shifts in that way of his, when he says something he wishes he hasn't, but he makes no move to take it back.

Half beseeching, half reproachful: “That's not fair, Marty.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

“It's Martin,” Martin replies, blistering with something bubbling to the forefront. “It's Martin, not Marty. I'm not – I'm not a child any more, so you can just – just drop that.” He scoffs a breath, and it's hard and hurt and deliberate. “And no, it wasn't fair. But neither was you leaving. So guess we're equal.”

“I – I tried to explain,” the other man starts, a heat of his own starting to shade indignant.

“And it was bollocks – ”

“It's the truth!”

“It wasn't good enough!”

“Your mother, she was – ”

“She was ill! She was sick and you knew, you knew she was just going to get sicker, and so you cut your losses and you legged it.”

“It wasn't like that – ”

“I was eight!” Martin snarls, and there's no pausing in his words any more, no careful consideration, it's a scatter-gun of words he's had secured in his chest for a long time now. “What the fuck sort of parent leaves an eight year old in that sort of house, with that sort of responsibility? What the hell kind of a life did you think I'd have?!”

“She had – you had aunts and uncles! They were, nearby, they were always cluttering up the house, popping round. I thought – I thought if, when she got really bad, they'd take you in!”

“She cut everyone out! What a stupid – you knew her! She hated anything that felt like pity, she was proud and she didn't want anyone to see her as she got worse. You think she'd have accepted someone implying she couldn't care for her son? No. And eventually it was – it was only us, and you know what, she hated me for it. Because I looked so much like you! Because everything I did, everything I ever did was just a reminder of how much she hated you for leaving.”

“I didn't – ” The response is regret-mired, apologetic, but Martin doesn't want to hear it. “I couldn't have known that...”

“No,” Martin replies, his voice all venom and hurt. “But it's not like you checked, did you? Pop in, see how I was doing. A visit o-or a letter in the post, o-or something! Christ, you didn't even come to the bloody funeral!”

“I.. No one told me! I found out she'd... she'd passed about a month back. I swear, Marty – Martin, sorry. I swear, I didn't know.”

“And now here you are.”

“I wanted to – I wanted to make amends! To be a better, a better father to you.”

“I'm nearly forty, dad,” Martin snipes unkindly, his throat thick. “What makes you think I need you now?” He sniffs, his words damper than he'd like. “Thirty years is a long time to wait to try and play happy families again.”

“Martin, I. Look, I had a lot of problems. Back then. For a long time. I'm not saying them as an excuse – ”

“Then don't say them,” Martin cuts him off. “I don't – I don't want to hear them. I... just. Don't.”

The conversation dies abruptly. There's a horrible, terminal sort of quiet to it.

“I'm going to go,” Martin says, his tone sanded down to quiet exhaustion. “I've got – Jon'll be waiting and I – I can't do this any more.”

“Right,” Kenneth Blackwood replies with an equal tone. “I'm staying, I'm nearby if you want to – I hope to see you again, Martin.”

Martin doesn't reply. Jon has enough warning of the looming shadow in the door to skitter back as Martin uses his key to twist the lock open.

His face is ruddy, splotchy with patches of red. His eyes wet.

“Guess you heard some of that, yeah?” he bites out bitterly on seeing Jon, tugging off his coat.

“Some,” Jon admits honestly, and Martin shakes his head like he's trying to knock something loose, throws his coat over the banister head, pulling off his scarf and balling it up and chucking it in the corner by the door like it's wronged him.

“What a fucking – It was a mistake, I knew I knew it was a bad idea, me and my stupid bloody – playing the bleeding heart idiot again as per fucking usual.”

“Did it, did go badly?” Jon asks, putting the cat down and skirting the edges of Martin's return, watching him pull off his shoes unlaced and slam them into the shoe pile into the corner.

“Absolutely fabulous!” he responds with a false bitter cheer that tinges yellowed and sick. He's not calming down. His hand threading through his hair, his face continuing to redden with an angry heat, eyes welling up. “He's so bloody sincere and apologetic and what the – what am I supposed to do with that now? Where were all his sorries then, where was he when I wanted to hear them?”

Martin plows on, clearly not wanting answers.

“A-and he was so interested, wanted to see our wedding pictures, and kept asking so so many questions like it was a job interview or something – what are you doing? What do you like doing? What are your hobbies? How long have you and Jon been together? – a-and, like, I couldn't help thinking that it's none of his – he wasn't there, he doesn't get to be all friendly like he didn't just walk out. And! And then!” Martin's voice rises to a furious damp crest, throwing his hands about. “Then he wants to share! He had pictures on him and his new wife and new kids – a-and mum, she always, she always said he hadn't wanted a family, hadn't wanted to be a dad, didn't want the responsibility that'd fall on him when she got sick. But he was so happy! So I don't – what am I meant to think of that? I don't know, I mean, was it lies she told me, how much was the truth, and how much did she twist like she did everything else?”

Martin sniffs loudly. “He got married a year after he left mum, and they're still together. His other kids are finishing uni or they've got cushy jobs in the financial district, and h-he was showing me and he sounded so... god, he was so proud of them.” Martin wipes at his eyes. “S-so that's, that's just great.”

“Martin...” Jon starts, despairing, listening to the croak in his voice, the way it keeps catching, the hitching jagged rise of his breathing.

“No. No, don't you get it, it's clear as fucking crystal. Because he wanted a family, yeah, he wanted kids he could dote on and take to the park and play football with. He just didn't want me, did he? And what the hell was s-so wrong with me?! I wasn't – I wasn't a bad kid, I was quiet and I kept out of trouble, and there's no, no reason he couldn't have taken me with him when he left. S-so what was so wrong with me?” Martin's shoulders are starting to shake. “Why – why wasn't I enough for him?”

Jon surges in as Martin bursts into angry bitter tears. Sobbing into Jon's jumper, fisting his hands into the hem of it, repeating snatches of recrimination and confusion over and over. Jon tries to tell him that he's enough, that he's always been enough, that he's so so loved, but Martin can't hear over his own hitching breaths, the sea swell of his grief.

Jon just holds him and waits for the tide to go out.

–

The doorbell rings around nine o'clock, and Jon Knows who's at the door.

Martin stirs under the twisted covers with a questioning noise, but Jon shushes him.

“It's the postman,” he lies. “I'll get it.”

Martin hums.

“Put the kettle on?” he asks sleepily, as though he won't be back snoring in a minute. Jon promises he will regardless, manoeuvring himself out of the heat-packed bed and Martin's loose grip, slipping on his slippers and a shirt.

He opens the door with his most imperious of gazes already set on his face.

Martin is there. Or, a man uncanny in resemblance. He shifts his weight from foot to foot like Martin does, has the same nervous twitch in the flutter of his hands. His skin is more weathered, maybe, has built up a collection of lines Martin hasn't sourced out just yet, a further progression to the receding hairline that's beginning to retreat back at Martin's temples.

“I – um, is Martin in?”

“Yes.”

“Can – would I be able to – ?”

“No,” Jon replies. “He's still asleep.”

It's taken for the denial it's meant to be. Kenneth Blackwood makes an 'oh, right' with the same ringing nervous cast to his movements that Martin had when he first came to the Archives.

“It's...” he starts tentatively, and politely does not have his gaze stray too long on the scars on his hand, his face, his throat. “It's Jon, isn't it?”

“Jonathan Blackwood,” he responds, feeling the odd need to stake the territory here. “I'm Martin's husband.”

“Oh!” Kenneth replies, a little surprised “That's... that's good. I didn't know you took his name when you got.... That's... that's great.”

“It's a good name,” Jon responds, and his father gives a sad, crooked look.

“Not sure Martin would agree with you.”

“It's not my place to comment,” Jon counters, and Kenneth nods and replies with a: “Yeah. No, no, you're right.”

The cat has come up to the door out of curiosity and nudges at the back of his legs before deciding to stay indoors. Jon clears his throat, feeling the nip of early morning under the thin cotton of his nightwear.

“I wanted to – ” Kenneth Blackwood starts. “I wanted to apologise. I didn't keep a cool head yesterday, and he – he deserved my honesty, not my defensiveness.”

Jon gives nothing else, and Kenneth Blackwood continues, clearly grateful for the conversational opening.

“Look, I'm – I have to head back today. I live up near Preston these days. But I hoped – Can I leave my number? I know I shouldn't have pushed so hard. It was a lot to expect. He doesn't...” He makes a half-sigh. “Martin doesn't have to call. I won't contact him again, if that's what he wants. I just – I'm there. If he wants to give me the chance to get to know him again. But if he doesn't.... I understand.”

Jon takes the piece of card offered.

“I'll give it to him,” he says, firmly but not unkindly, and then gives a nod. “Drive back safe, Mr Blackwood.”

He takes it for the dismissal it is meant to be, and he returns the nod. Shoves his hands in his pockets to stave off the chill of the morning as he leaves.

Jon closes the front door with an unobtrusive click, pockets the card he was given. Pauses for a moment, listening to the lull of the house, the rumble of snoring upstairs. Then he makes his way past pots and paintbrushes into the kitchen to make Martin a cup of tea.

#the magnus archives #martin blackwood #fic #prompt #cw parental abandonment #cw emotional abuse #cw intense emotional outbursts #cw poor parent-child relationships #jonmartin #angst #some domestic fluff #this is kinda heavy so if you want me to add more tags #please tell me #i wasn't sure how to word them

638 notes · View notes

beevean · 3 years

Note

How about a top 5 (or 10 if you prefer) best and worst bosses in video games? :D

I’m not very well versed in videogames, but anyway...

WORST

10) Chaos 4 (Sonic Adventure): Not a big fan of bosses who waste so much time - ooh, look at that, trying to hit me with very slow, very telegraphed attacks, and taking more and more time to becomes vulnerable the more the fight progresses. Also not a big fan of Tactical Suicide Bosses (excuse me Chaos, why is your strategy “stay in the water for increasingly amounts of time and then decide to raise my head to breathe”? In this form you’re a fish!). Even less of a fan of bosses that you have to fight three times to complete the game.

9) Sonic and Diablon (Shadow the Hedgehog): They couldn’t have come up with a more boring boss if they tried. Shoot the shield, shoot the cannon, avoid the hand, run away when you hear the word “anti-matter”, kick Sonic in the head, slowly chip at the large energy bar, rinse and repeat. The G.U.N. Fortress version is particularly painful, too, as the arena only offers those piss poor pistols with 10 bullets and minimal damage. And much like Chaos 4, you have to fight this lovely boss three times to get to the Last Story, except you don’t even get a different character with different abilities. Also, poor Sonic, from protagonist of the series reduced to nothing more than a footstep.

8) Collision Chaos boss (Sonic CD): Try to play a boss that relies on wonky pinball physics, that shoots projectiles with the only purpose of changing your already precarious trajectory, in the Bad Future that adds slightly more bumpers to destroy, with the American music (I linked the extended version to properly depict the experience). Pain is real.

7) Egg Pinball (Sonic Advance 3): Surprise! I find this boss worse than the more famous Egg Chaser. Yes, the Egg Chaser is very anxiety-inducing with its bottomless pit and the ball chain sending you into it, but once you learn the pattern of the platforms and that Amy as a partner makes it a joke it’s not that bad. This one, though? Even with Amy/Sonic, which is the only team where your partner is useless but you aren’t, this boss relies too much on luck, expecially by the end when way too many balls are flying across the screen. It’s almost funny, in a “screw you” way, that this is one of the two bosses in the game that can’t be hit by Cheese, in the stage where you finally unlock Cream. Pinball and Sonic don’t mix as well as Sonic Team thinks, apparently.

6) Boost Guardian (Metroid Prime 2, Gamecube): This boss’ strategy isn’t even that bad, it’s just that it hits you like a truck in an environment that is already sipping you of health. If being hit was less punishing, guessing the correct timing to jump over it would be fun. Too overkill for its placement in the game.

5) Mother Brain (Metroid Zero Mission): MB in the original Metroid 1 was... there, with the difficulty of the final boss coming from those stupid Rinkas pushing you into the lava below. In the remake, which otherwise is much easier than the original game, you have to think about the Rinkas, the lava, and MB who shots you fireballs! And if you fall into the lava (and you will spend half of the time in the lava)? She closes her eye and protects her only weak spot, forcing you to wait at the mercy of the Rinkas hitting you all over again. Asshole.

4) Dark Gaia (Sonic Unleashed): Dark Gaia, as a whole, is a stain on an otherwise beautiful game. Setting aside his “character” for a while: this boss is way, WAY too long (the first time I clocked at 11 minutes, like hell I’m trying again), the Gaia Colossus phase is frustrating for how slow it is and for having a nigh-unavoidable attack, the running phase requires pitch-perfect timing otherwise say bye bye to your life, and the Super Sonic phase is essentially “slipping down the shield to run over a bunch of snakes, then QTE up your ass”. Riveting. At least it has some banging music...

3) Egg Saucer (Sonic Advance 2): The bosses in SAd2 are already questionable with their “wind pushing you backwards” physics, but this one flings you enough bullshit to make you ragequit. Whoisthisgit made an excellent video explaining everything that makes this boss such a miserable experience. I am so sorry, Knuckles, that you had to be associated with this tragedy.

2) Antlion Mecha (Sonic 2, Game Gear): So let me get this straight devs, you take a boss that is already a little too had as the first boss in the game, you put it in a console with a much smaller screen, you screw up the slope physics making it just a little too easy to slide into the antlion’s jaws (and of course you don’t have any Rings), and on top of that you make the trajectory of the projectiles random when in the Master System they were consistent? Great game design there, guys :V

1) Spider Guardian (Metroid Prime 2, Gamecube): I was never as close as bestemmiare ogni santo e pure il padre eterno as I was when I was trying to beat this abomination. I love the Ing theme, but FUCK if I wasn’t hating every single sound of it while playing, OH MY GOD I envy the people who played it on the Wii so damn much

BEST

10) Robot Carnival/Storm (Sonic Heroes): Yes! Yes, I do like this boss! I’m probably the only one, I don’t care, I find these fights cathartic, especially with Team Chaotix <3

9) Jet Drill (Sonic 3 & Knuckles): The strategy may be simple, but I love the setup of Eggman destroying an ancient garden just to kill Sonic and I love how it emphasizes how much of a reliable bro Tails is. (let’s just ignore the fact that with Tails alone this boss is a pain...)

8) Doomsday Zone (Sonic 3 & Knuckles): The series had its fair share of Super Sonic bosses, but so far no one has beaten the original. It has excellent music, you can feel the tension as you smartly redirect Eggman’s missiles to him and as you chase him down through space, and Eggman in this game is really ready to do anything to win, I love it

7) Beta mk. II (Sonic Adventure): This is probably the best part of Gamma’s campaign. 90% of it is kindergarten-easy, and then Hot Shelter and the final boss are a sudden, but welcome spike in difficulty. Beta mk. II is a far cry from any other E-series robot you’ve faced, being almost completely invulnerable, hitting you with straight up nukes, and the time is still ticking in the corner. Then you add the context of having to kill your brother, and the deceptively upbeat theme, and it becomes a memorable experience.

6) Cykka (Metroid Prime 2): The first phase is fairly boring, but Adult Cykka is really fun to fight for some reason. Not only it has a cool design, but it’s a fast-paced battle (due to having to use the Grapple Beam to swing from platform to platform) where you have to go ham on the boss at certain points (when it becomes Dark Cykka), my two favorite styles for a boss.

5) Nightmare (Metroid Fusion): A name, a certainty. This boss looks, sounds and attacks in a way that makes you feel confused and powerless. Even at it becomes a game of “climb the stairs, shoot at its ungodly face, jump around to avoid it”, it’s still tense.

4) Ridley (Super Metroid): SM isn’t famous for having great bosses, but they put all of their effort into Ridley and it shows. There’s no strategy here, it’s simply “kill him before he kills you”. At this point you’re pretty much at the peak of your strength, you went through literal Hell to get The Baby back, you’re not going to be stopped by the asshole who killed your parents.

3) Shibusawa Keiji (Yakuza 0): What a beast of a final boss. The first Dragon of Dojima is the perfect foil to Kiryu, having all of his strength and style but none of his compassion, and beating him up to a bloody pulp, especially as you see him become sloppier and sloppier, is so, so cathartic. Also, Two Dragons, what more can I say?

2) Egg Dragoon (Sonic Unleashed): Best boss in the series? I don’t know but it’s surely in the top 10, and it’s ironic that you play as the hated Werehog. Not only it has some delicious music (that generations ruined), but it’s such a fun climax after the hell and a half that is Eggmanland! On one hand, Eggman sounds seriously angry and he is ready to kill Sonic (and if you take too much time, which admittedly is hard if you’re not doing it on purpose, he is positively gleeful while he sends you into a fiery death); on the other, Sonic just rips this giant robot apart like tissue paper, and even if it’s done through QTEs, it looks awesome.

1) Kuze Daisaku (Yakuza 0): I’ll let this say it all. If I had to pick a favorite version, the fifth one was my favorite to fight (by that point you have likely upgraded Kiryu’s abilities to the point of making him a juggernaut), but the second one is iconic for a reason... multiple, in fact. “DIE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

Special mention to Majima in Y1, YK and YK2 because he looks really fun, but I have never faced him myself so yeah.

#sonic the hedgehog #metroid #yakuza #sorry for the random italian #not my fault you guys don't have a word for insulting god himself #spinningbuster98

10 notes · View notes

secret-engima · 4 years

Text

Drabble for Time Travel Twins verse

(because I have no impulse control and SOMEONE *eyes @rayearthdudette* reminded me about Titus and then my muses ran away with me. Enjoy!)

...

-They are 12 when Titus first comes to the Citadel. Romulus is more than ready to stab him, because he remembers Libertus telling him what happened, that the man became a traitor, and any threats to Regis are threats that need to be removed, but Remus is … conflicted. One on hand, yes, Titus is a danger. But when? Surely the man hadn’t always been a traitor. Captain had taught him … so much. Taken care of them before going cold and hard in those final days. Remus is … biased he supposes. Reluctant to arrange an “accident” for the man who meant so much to him at one point, especially when he shows no signs of treason right now.

-So they watch, aloof and quiet (which is not unexpected for them considering their … backstory, so no one really notices), trying to find evidence of treason or loyalty and are both disturbed when they realize that Titus Drautos is … he is loyal. He is angry and hurting, having just lost his home of Cavaugh outside Insomnia and it’s Wall, but he is not angry at Lucis. He is not bitter toward the king, but instead seems to respect Regis in a polite, impersonal sort of way. He treats both twins with respect and manners, not questioning their paranoid looks, the way Romulus keeps picking a fight, or how Remus has nicknamed him Captain with a feral sort of smile even though the man is a Crownsguard rookie with no real rank.

-Sometimes he even steps into situations unprompted on their behalf, and while Romulus is convinced it’s a ploy to gain trust, Remus sees the crease in the man’s forehead when he interjects himself in a situation (a dispute with the other guards, a reckless prank he can see about to go dangerously south rather than just hilariously sideways) and his gut whispers that Titus is sincere. But then, he trusted Captain before and look where that got him.

-They are 16 when Titus Drautos disappears on a mission outside Insomnia. If they hadn’t been keeping a constant eye on him (hadn’t been making up excuses to be around him so as to search for treasonous behavior, hadn’t been getting attached despite the memories screaming that it was a bad idea) then they would never have noticed. Titus was one man amid the entire Crownsguard, and as good at his job as he was, as personal his reason for joining the Guard (saved by Regis when their “father” personally led rescue efforts to Cavaugh in the wake of the destruction), one man is so very easy to miss. Titus was new, he didn’t have that many friends in the guard, and most of them were on other missions and duties themselves. So when Titus was assigned to a milk run outside the Wall with three others and two of them came back with a report of a daemonic ambush, everyone else just shrugged with regret and moved on. Hardly the first time they’d lost a rookie to the Night.

-Except.

-Except Romulus and Remus know that Titus couldn’t be dead. They had not altered the timeline in a way that would have made the man die, surely. If anything, Romulus’s constant sparring challenges would have made the man more capable and besides all that, somewhere deep inside Remus still clings to the image of his Captain before the betrayal. The strong, steady, unbreakable presence that kept so many of them from throwing themselves into fights they couldn’t win because they didn’t want to come back to empty houses and shattered Clans.

-Except Romulus and Remus know that at some point Titus Drautos becomes Glauca, the wielder of an experimental regenerating armor, and Romulus has personal experience with Niflheim and their predilection towards immoral science.

-They are smart enough to leave a note at least. One telling Regis that they’re going looking for Drautos and will be back in a few weeks. Hopefully. Then they run, putting as much distance as they can between themselves and Insomnia before Cor can catch up to them and drag them home.

-It takes them longer than expected. Romulus remembered a lot of things and a lot of missions, but Niflheim holds a lot of territory and they can only hit so many bases before they risk capture and discovery from either side.

-But they do have some ways to narrow it down, and the twins lost their qualms against “aggressive negotiations” to gain information a very long time ago.

….

-Titus doesn’t know how long he’s been there. Only that it’s been too long. Far too long.

-Long enough to know that no one is coming. He is alone. Forgotten. Abandoned.

-Just like his home when Mors pulled back the Wall, not even sparing a thought for the region of small towns and simple villages right on his doorstep that were no match for Niflheim’s military.

-Long enough that he’s stopped trying to fight it when they come into his cell and unshackle him from the wall to drag him off to the lab for another session. Another agony filled day of them pumping black sludge and liquid metal into his veins and watching him writhe on the table as it forces itself into shape around his skin and then slides back underneath when the scientists press certain buttons.

-He hates them. He h a t e s them.

-He’s starting to hate the Lucis Caelums more. For leaving him. Just like they left his family to burn, just like they left all of Lucis to burn.

-(And in the back of his mind he knows that’s not fair, that he should hate the people doing this to him not those who live safe and far away, but he is helpless against these scientists who keep him drugged and shackled, and it is so much easier to hate the things that he doesn’t have to be terrified of, so much easier to keep himself alive when his hate has a target he can imagine lashing out at rather than the ones who have long since gotten wise to his escape attempts and tricks and pin him down body and soul).

-Titus has been here too long and as he is dragged to the table and strapped down for the (tenth-hundreth-thousandth) time he knows that no one is coming.

-He doesn’t realize that the shaking of the world is not just another side effect of his mind struggling to cope with whatever the sludge and metal does to him until the scientists stop in the middle of their work and start looking around.

-One of them looks toward the door and orders an MT to go check what was going on. The unit leaves and the pain resumes.

-Until the intermittent shivering of the world turns into one long, prolonged shake. Like reality is a wet dog and the entire lab is a stubborn drop of water that won’t quite leave the fur coat. Somewhere to his right, the head scientist, a weedy man with black hair and a propensity to laugh in childish delight when Titus gets violent, yells something that sounds like “earthquake? Here? Impossible!”

-Titus loses time easily on the table, and he isn’t terribly surprised when he blinks his eyes open without memory of closing them and instinctively looks around to try to reorient himself in regards to time (to whether the session is almost over or if he still has a long way of torment to go)

-Why is his face wet.

-Why does the wetness taste like copper.

-Is he bleeding again? Did the liquid metal come out of his skin too fast and open large gashes again?

-A blink of lost time, a sluggish glance to the right.

-Had … had the weedy scientist man been pinned to the wall by a sword through his chest for long?

-Why were all the scientists screaming? He was the only one who did screaming during the sessions.

-Another blink and the screaming was quiet but the alarms were like nails in his ears, so loud he almost couldn’t hear the words being said to him by the person yanking the restrains off his arms, “-kay, Captain, we’re gonna get you out of here. Just hang on. You hear me, Captain?”

-…Captain?

-Only one person called him Captain.

-He lifted a hand toward the … person? Hallucination? and brushed his knuckles against a slender cheek, metal skittering in and out of his hand, reaching for the person-vision-thing with something like curiosity, “Re … mus?”

-Blue eyes, darker than their usual ice, as dark as the ocean or the King’s magic, filmed with tears. The hand that took his was scarred in familiar patterns, burns that were done by fire but branched jaggedly like lightning, “I’m here, Captain. I’m getting you out.” A glance to Titus’s other side and a tightening of the jaw, “We’re getting you out. Just hang on, okay?”

-Titus had to be dreaming. Or dying. Finally. The royal princes were very openly not fond of him, for all they had chosen to make him their preferred pestering target and training chew toy for the last 4 years. They were only 16 and this was a Niflheim military laboratory. No one was coming for him, especially not the princes.

-Titus did his best to hang on to Remus’s shoulder anyway as the much smaller teen have carried, half dragged him down torn up, smoking hallways. Ahead of him, silver gleamed, not like the liquid metal the scientists kept pumping in his veins (that he was probably dying of right now) but brighter. Purer.

-Romulus’s armiger had always been a thing of deadly beauty, especially when Titus wasn’t on the receiving end of it. It carved through the MT Units that tried to stop them with barely a thought, the dozens of swords the boy had obsessively collected swapping from the air to his hands and back in the space of blinks, defending or destroying by turns.

-Not a single Unit or bullet got anywhere near Titus and Remus.

-Something coiled around him, warm and painful, but a … good kind of painful. Not like the scientists and their tools. More like the burn of a hot shower against sore muscles.

-Not a bad thing to feel while he dreamed up a rescue scenario as he died.

-A blink that lasted too long, because when he opened his eyes again, he was lying on his back, being dragged through the grass on some kind of makeshift shield sled. The sky was above him, so open and vibrant he hadn’t realized he’d started to forget what colors other than black, silver, and white were until just then. He didn’t dare blink away the tears that started, because he didn’t want to miss this. This dream of rescue and freedom in his final moments.

-It was evening. If he craned his head, he could see smoke rising in the distance. The base that had held him nothing more than an empty shell.

-The vision of Remus was still talking from where he and Romulus were dragging Titus’s shield sled, “-a little longer. We’ll patch you up once we get to the Haven, okay? Just a little longer.”

-He blinked. Opened his eyes to pain.

-Pain-pain-pain-painpainPAINMAKEITSTOPPLEASE-

-“What’s wrong with him?”

-“I don’t know! He might- he might be going through withdrawals from whatever drugs the Nifs used?”

-“It’s been hours past that point and it started up just now, withdrawals have more warning than that-!” swearing, loud and by his ear as he writhed in burning white agony, “Is he seizing? Hold him down till I get an elixir!”

-“-not working I don’t know what’s wrong-”

-“-ven! It’s the Haven!”

-“What?”

-“Captain never went on Havens! No one knew why, and he always had a good excuse so no one really questioned it but-.”

-“Daemon blood, it’s got to be, they probably used it as a conduit for the armor. The Haven was trying to purify him-.”

-“He’s off the Haven now, why hasn’t it stopped?”

-“We interrupted the process, the suit isn’t complete and we probably just screwed up whatever counted for stable with it-.”

-PainpainpainpainpleasejustmakeitstopjustenditenditENDIT

-“-dare die, Captain! Don’t you dare die on me!”

-Please.

-Just.

-E n d i t.

-Hand on his chest and on his neck it hurthurthurt-, “You don’t get to leave me behind!”

-Light.

-White hot light, brighter than the sun, brighter and more agonizing than anything in life before or after.

-Kids in front of him. Kids who thought they were adults, thought they were ready for war, thought they were ready for magic to reach inside and change them forever.

-His boys. His girls. His idiots.

-His Glaives.

-Blood and bandages, blades and crisp black uniforms edged in silver. “Appropriate,” laughed the shadow of the jungle and the storm on his heels and where did he know that voice from? Where did he know that shadow?

-Endless battlefields and unchanging training rooms, the flicker of braids in the corner of his eyes, meanings kept secret, meanings absorbed through exposure until the sight of pink made him cringe and the glimpse brown beads made his heart hurt in sympathy. A hundred faces come and gone, a dozen more that stayed-stayed-stayed. Brown eyes green eyes burning burning blue. Lips in a hundred different faces with a hundred different names, all of them looking at him and calling him the same thing in fondness-anger-respect-heartbreak-affection-trust.

-“Captain.”

-“Hey, Captain.”

-“Yo, Cap!”

-“For Hearth and Home, right Captain? As long as there is breath in my body, I follow that order.”

-A name on the tip of his tongue, a knowing that was fond and angry and regretful all at once. The glimpse of beads.

-Lightning branching scars made of purple fire.

-The pain stopped.

-Titus opened his eyes.

-And looked into burning burning blue, set in a face that was partially cracked open in branching lightning scars that bled purple fire, “Hey … Captain.”

-There was a name on Titus’s lips, and it wasn’t “Remus”, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what that name was. At least not before the world went dark and he passed out from the relief of no longer being in pain.

-He woke up to the crackling of a campfire and a sprawling night sky over his head. For a moment he lay there in utter disbelief, not daring to move just in case he woke up back in the lab. Something shifted off to his right and a moment later a small, calloused hand rests on his forehead, “Awake for real this time, Drautos?”

-Titus stares, “…Prince Romulus?” The words cracked in his throat and when his coughing fit died down, the prince who shouldn’t be there handed him a canteen of water. Titus inhaled carefully several times after drinking, then looked up again. The prince was still there, “…How?”

-Prince Romulus sat back on his heels with a carefully blank expression, “You’re a hard man to find, Drautos. And a hard one to keep alive.”

-“I … what?”

-The Prince looked over his shoulder and Titus jerked internally when he spotted Prince Remus curled up asleep on a bedroll, exhaustion in every line of his teenage body, his branching scars far more vivid than usual.

-Purple fire spilling free of skin and blue, blue eyes and memories he can’t see-hear-touch-.

-“You … you came for me.” Titus whispered, unable to believe it, but also unable to disbelieve it. Why?

-Romulus grunted and evaded the implicit question in Titus’s words, “It took us longer than we thought to find you. Didn’t realize the Nifs had so many labs, let alone in Lucis. Then we got you out to a Haven and whatever they pumped in you decided to send you into some kind of violent fit.”

-Titus could remember that, dimly, and it made him feel sick just thinking of the black sludge and the liquid metal squirming under his skin-.

-Except he couldn’t feel it anymore.

-He pressed his hands over his arms, trying to find the feeling of foreign, painful metal inside him and instead felt … something else. Light. Twin suns of light hiding in his core, one that nipped and grumbled at his senses like a winter-chilled river that looked calm on the surface but raged quick and fast underneath, and another that crackled and sparked eagerly down his bones like lightning and the pounding of rain. Magic. Twin cores of magic, humming under his skin in place of the horrible, burning liquid metal the Nifs had constantly forced into his veins.

-…The princes’ magic?

-Romulus saw his look and turned his face away, “Remus burned the Starscourge and that … metal … out of your body with his magic but something needed to replace it. It had … carved you up inside and leaving those channels empty … would have been fatal.” Romulus glared at the night beyond the Haven, “I’m not explaining that well. But that’s what happened. Then he passed out.”

-Titus couldn’t untangle his emotions properly, they were too jumbled and strong do to more than rasp, “And … you?” Because there were two distinct magics inside him now, he could feel them.

-Romulus shook his head, stood up and prowled a few steps away to the campfire before sitting down again and admitting gruffly, “Remus wasn’t enough. After you were purified, you went into shock. I’d brought along ten phoenix downs just in case something happened…” The prince inhaled slowly, whispered more to the flames than Titus, “I ran out. You were still fading. So I dragged you back.”

-“Why?” Titus’s hands were shaking and he couldn’t get them to stop, couldn’t think about what the prince’s words made him feel because if he did he would break before he could get an answer and he needed to know. Needed to know why the two princes that had never acted particularly fond of him would race into the wilds, would risk their lives to free him, and then would … give him their magic.

-It wasn’t Romulus who answered, but a sluggish Remus, who slurred from his bedroll, “Cause you’re our Captain.” Remus blinked sleepily, yawned and finished, “Hearth and Home. ’S what matters most. Hearth is where you stay, Home’s the people in it. That’s you.” Blue eyes fluttered shut again before Titus could think of a response, but when he looked over at Romulus, the eldest prince was watching him solemnly.

-The prince tilted his chin in agreement with his twin, then added very softly, “We were afraid of you because you’re from Cavaugh. Our father already has to deal with enough bitterness and backlash over Mors’ reign, we didn’t know how you would react, being so close to the royal family that failed your town. But then you disappeared and … a prince takes care of his people. We can’t save everyone, we don’t have that kind of power. No one does. But that doesn’t mean we can’t try. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.” Then he shook his head, shifting to sit with his back to the fire and his sword on his shoulder, a soldier keeping watch even though there was no need on a Haven, “Go to sleep. You’ve been through a lot. We’ll call for pickup to Insomnia in the morning.”

-Titus lay back down very slowly, head spinning and limbs shaking, his entire world upended and shaky. Except for one thing. One realization, one burning vow, curling tight in his chest.

-These princes were his. They had come for him. When he’d lost all hope that anyone could come, they had. They had come and carried him to freedom, burned out the poison in his veins and given him each a piece of themselves to keep him alive when they had no obligation to do any such thing. No matter what he thought of Mors, or their father, for that …

-For that he would stand beside the throne without hesitation or doubt.

-He woke up the next afternoon to find that Remus had somehow migrated from his bedroll to Titus’s and was sleeping curled up under one arm, his magic tangling around Titus’s soul and keeping the nightmares at bay while Romulus, who had drifted over sometime in the night, dozed fitfully within arm’s reach away. When Titus stirred, Remus clung tighter to the tattered Crownsguard coat they had dressed him in at some point. Remus called him “Captain” the same way King Regis beckoned his Shield, (the same way a child called out to a trusted adult, and what had he ever done to earn that trust from two boys who were known to have been abused so badly by adults before), and Titus relaxed obediently into the teen’s hold.

-And he knew.

-He was theirs. Whatever they needed of him, whatever they wanted him to be to them, that’s what he would be. For them he would burn down the world if they only asked, and in their defense he would give anything.

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Time Travel Twins verse #titus drautos #HERE BE ANGST #long post

152 notes · View notes

girlofthefandom · 3 years

Text

Tales from the smp thoughts and random quotes I enjoy (essentially delayed live blogging) Part 1

I love all these npcs already

“Hurry up camera man!”

Yes! Gladiators! I remember seeing someone say that idea

Just some joes

Porkeous the 7th. Oh no I can see the fan girls now.

Yes! Punch em off!!

“Yeah same.”

“That’s good cause I don’t” “we build a new colosseum every time”

I can’t want to see the names of everyone’s characters. Especially Philz’

Stairs everyone’s worst enemy

Tubbo... sweet child

She disappeared!! Witch craft! Burn the witch!

Tubbo=Jacky (forced off streets)

Fundy=Laggius Maximus (I love this name so much with the spinning)

Please don’t kill both the boys in this fight. But also I’m cheating for Laggius.

Subbin Empire? Subbin to Technoblade!

Go Laggius! This is not going to go well... this is really not going to go well...

No I refuse to root for Jacky. I like Laggius the bit will be funnier later.

I want to know what happened to the last camera guy! Let us know!

Vertical feeling! Heaven forbid! Also look at them insulting TikTok

I love the background music. Feels magical.

A lovely jump

Surprises... well that’s ominous. And wait the first one!

Tower! Towers are always good.

We got our popcorn. Ready to watch this fight.

Laggius is... coming... maybe...

GG Jacky... he hasn’t won yet but gg.

Lava!!!! Hooray! Love us some good lava

Poor Laggius... he was burning too early

And Laggius is still lagging

Why isn’t Jacky burning?? He won???

Knocked unconscious in the lava. What is this a Pokémon game?

GG Jacky.

Nobody needs to know the way around here.

“Almost like a video game” just break that fourth wall right down

Keeps looking at sapnaps character and talking about strong. How sweet. We love some fiancé’s.

Please don’t throw Laggius to the wolves

Jack Manifold = Bartholomew

Phil having to translate. I love it.

Watson = Phil

Good pun. Very good pun.

Nobody likes Punz. Gosh everyone’s so mean

We love Watson. Let’s go Watson.

Bartholomew with the drugs and Watson.

Crazy drunk man with fire resistance

I agree with Watson why did we come to this cousin.

Sapnap in a hole

Also I love the drinking age being 3

Let’s go Watson!!!

Where are my Pom poms? I’ve got a Watson to cheer for.

Execute those architects.

And their first Borns.

Watson! Watson! Watson!

“Welcome to the land of the living Bartholomew.”

I love the slow fight.

Come on Watson shoot em!

Oh no. Oh no. Come on Watson. You’re so close!

Noooooooooo.

Why Bartholomew???? I can’t spell that! I’ve been relying on autocorrect this whole time.

Watson would be so much easier to spell.

Still must go down the stairs.

Speed running life. That’s what I do.

No one dies. Just take them to nurse joy.

Poor Punz being so bullied

Punz=Levi

Levi? Really? Oh well I like the name. He won’t like but I like the name.

Also why does Levi have such a full backstory.

Has weapon hands with a horrible southern accent. I love it.

“Hmmm”

Who is Ol’ Sap?

Sapnap = John

And no creativity apparently.

Laggius had the best name for a gladiator. All the others are too boring.

Why are we beating up BBH

Hannah=Genevieve

Genevieve! I can spell that thanks to old Barbie movies!!

Go Genevieve! Trained her life! I love this woman!

Mostly women upstairs. I love it our fandom is so biased.

“Are you sure about that?”

Darlin? Really that’s not the right word.

Go Genevieve! I probably shouldn’t cheer for her since everyone I’ve cheered for has lost.

But still GO GENEVIEVE!!

Our empire is millions in dept

Let’s step up the battle! Let’s gooooo

“Ayyyyy!!!”

Go Genevieve! Levi hush up with your gills.

Jump in! Splish Splash!

Wait why are we listening to Mario Kart music? Wait I recognize this song.

Go Genevieve!!

YES FINALLY! I PICKED THE WINNER!

Levi hush. You done lost messed up southern boi.

Go Genevieve! I can actually spell your name!

I straight forgot Porkeous the 7ths name for a second and had to check my notes.

Stairs. Woop de doo.

“Pick the most handsome” wow

Ol’ Sap = John as I remember. And he’s sticking with it. Bold man sticking with it.

Ranboo = Ran

Just Ran and it’s just the enderman part of the skin. Haha. Very funny.

BBH = Edward

He went from strange voice to normal(ish) voice

I don’t like Edwards speech pattern. At the very least. Yucky.

John v. Edward letsa go

Go John!

Wait we renaming? This is going to get confusing.

Handsome. Can you two quit flirting (not really keeping going)

Alrighty then Ugly v. Edward

Go Ugly! (Sentence I never expected to type)

The seat thing

And saying king Julien. Sigh.

Just BRB real quick.

Thinking about buying things. Oh he meant ad.

Alright Ad 1/3 let’s go.

No I can’t even open chat to watch them instead of the ad. Boooo.

2/3 let’s get this done!

3/3

Snickers just loading for forever

Alrighty we survived.

And a crown really? Just wants his normal skin back.

Let’s go Ugly!

Bo-at battle! Let’s go!

Please don’t shoot Ugly.

Go Ugly!

“King Are you ok!”

I still hate Edwards speech pattern so much

Please. Just pretend to have a fair fight.

The rabbits???? Cant rabbits swim?

Hooray rabbits! I don’t what purpose they serve but I love them.

Edward or Edwardo? Did I miss something?

Ok it seems both.

Shooting a rabbit? Disowner on you disowner on your cow.

Killing pets reference? The references are so good.

YES UGLY!!!! Thank heavens!

I’m 2/4 for choosing the winner.

I hope ugly keeps on winning

“Colosseum Remote Control”

3 in 1 battle how did they not plan correctly for an even number

Nerds hold cameras you heard it here folks

I don’t want to hear deeper for some of these stories. All I want to see is Genevieves further story. She seems deep.

“Massive pigs growling at us. No offense”

Watson trying to clean the table.

We bringing in the Harmonika.

Harmonika fits the moment.

Yes name him handsome! Haha

Grievous is how I’m spelling that stupid sounding name. But it’s better than John and ugly.

I can’t get over the name Ran.

BE GONE LEVI!

I love Watson having to take care of Bartholomew. Translating for him and waking him up.

Phil just can’t resist playing the dad.

No no stopping just fighting.

Also I love Watson saying break it up. I wish Watson had won.

Genevieve sounds like such a lovely lady and she deserves to win.

As much as I love Grevious I want Genevieve to win.

Sapnap=Grevious good gracious this is hard to follow.

Ran is cool. I’m going to kill over listening to them just saying Ran.

Complicated backstory. Found the main character.

Ran is cool.

Wait this place is going down??? Pardon me???

Three person fight is...

Grevious v. Ran v. Bartholomew

Genevieve v. Jacky

Puns! Let’s go! And of course Levi likes Puns.

Everyone is so mean.

GO GENEVIEVE!

And Watson just babysitting Bartholomew

I’m going to get good at spelling Bartholomew. Because I was horrible at it before.

Empire of women!

Cages=Lava

“Mmm what smells good”

Battle star!!

“Boing Boing Boing”

Water dome?

Water Dome in Lava?

Well he tried zombies/bunnies

Lava in the water sphere?

Only fight at top of fishbowl got it.

GO GENEVIEVE!

Come on girl you’ve got this!

No Genevieve babe please don’t lose.

“The boats going down.” “It’s yelling timber.” “Like that song that hasn’t been made yet.”

Hurry up and die. I love it.

NO GENEVIEVE!!!!!

Do do do do

That was a longer fight. But pretty good.

To the cellars! Not to the cellars!

No! The boat is gone!

That was close.

This feels like a funky Pokémon game.

Jacky is a finalist! Good for him. I’m not cheering for him but good for him.

TRIANGLE FORMATION

Who’s missing? Oh wait it’s Bartholomew

“Intense prison cosmetic surgery”

Rabbits! We love rabbits.

Oh no faceplant mode!

What is even happening?!?!

Thinking creatively.

Just don’t die. What a game.

Cant wait to watch the thinking creatively animatic.

In a boat to avoid floating.

Attack!

Go Ran!

Oh we’re lagging.

Disable the dive mode!

The zombies are a bit much. Oh everyone’s actually fighting.

Rats why weren’t there baby zombies when Watson was going. They even made a Phil reference.

No treaties.

Go Ran! Keep on running away.

I love Ran.

GO RAN! I love Grevious. But GO RAN

Faster Zombies. Zombies go zoom.

Oh Grevious won.

Wait why does Ran have grass and why do they see him again.

Placing more dirt to clean old dirt.

Poor Grevious.

I feel sorry for him now.

Stand on da dirt.

Put the rabbits in the cages!!!!

I cheer for Grevious.

And yes there are many a loser.

Everything is so spicy. As in lava is there.

You can’t kick your fiancé’s future descendent out of the gang.

A full inventory

Watson with the backup button!

Seriously all he can do is be a dad.

OH BOY LAGGIOUS IS BACK!

And he’s here for the picture.

And Watson is (still) bullying him!

Bartholomew is pure trouble.

Ooops. The root beer was on the brain.

Watson! Come get your drunk!

Oh wait he actually did! I love this so much.

Petition for more Phil in Tales.

Only Genevieve voting for Jacky

Some people refusing to vote.

I’m sorry who asked if Laggius is ok.

He is always (not) ok

He is fine. See.

I love Laggius’ character the most.

Go winners!

Reformed kinda. If that doesn’t sum up the whole of the smp.

All the grass in the cage.

And Laggius being his slow self.

Nothing v. General

I love how it went from King to Emperor to King

And there is Laggius.

I don’t know how anyone else is spelling Laggius but I like this way and refuse to edit it if it actually spelled different.

Oh we’re getting more ads.

1/3 let’s go

#tales from the smp #tftsmp #dreamsmp #dsmp #delayed liveblogging

13 notes · View notes