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petrichoravellichor · 4 years

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Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

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Chapter 1 (of 5) (Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Chs. 4 & 5)

“Crowley! Wake up, you son of a bitch, wake up!”

Crowley opens his eyes to Dean shaking him hard by the shoulders. Which is strange: the last thing Crowley remembers, he was dying, alone and forgotten in a parallel universe.

He isn’t there anymore. Instead, Dean is kneeling over him in a dome of golden light beyond which everything is dark, and for a brief, absurd moment he’ll chastise himself for later, Crowley thinks he’s somehow ended up in Heaven.

Then he glances past Dean and sees Sam with an exhausted-looking Castiel slumped against him; next to them is a younger man Crowley doesn’t recognize, but his eyes are molten gold, the same color as the dome surrounding them all. The amount of raw power emanating from the golden-eyed man makes every one of Crowley’s hairs stand on end, and not in a good way.

No, definitely not his idea of Heaven.

Crowley snaps his gaze back to Dean. “What—” he begins, but Dean cuts him off, hauling him to his feet.

“No time for questions!” Dean yells, and it’s only then that Crowley registers the roar coming from beyond the dome: it’s as though they’re standing in the eye of a hurricane as all around them things blow apart. “Come on, we gotta go!”

And then they’re all running, the dome of light moving with them like a shield as wispy black wraiths crash and burn against its perimeter and somewhere unseen, a hideous voice howls in rage.

*****

Once they’re safely back in the Bunker war room, Dean takes hold of Castiel and, along with the golden-eyed man—whose irises have faded to a soft, concerned blue—ushers him off in the direction of the infirmary, promising gruffly as he goes that he and Crowley will talk later.

Patience, however, is a virtue, and Crowley isn’t feeling particularly virtuous—especially not after seeing how tenderly Dean and Castiel looked at each other as Dean wrapped an arm around the angel’s waist and led him from the room. The sight had left a bitter taste in Crowley’s mouth, one he does his best to ignore. There will be time for that later; right now, he needs answers, and he’s not waiting on Dean in order to get them.

He crosses his arms and fixes Sam with an expectant glare. “All right, Moose,” he says, "out with it: what in God’s name is going on?”

Sam snorts, looking tired. “Um, yeah, about that...” He gestures towards the map table, then heads over to the liquor cabinet. “You...might wanna sit down.”

Crowley arches a brow, but he does as Sam suggests. Sam joins him a moment later and, after pouring them each a drink, spends the better part of the next hour telling Crowley all that’s transpired in the three years—three years—Crowley’s been dead.

Which is, it turns out, rather a lot.

Lucifer’s spawn survived his birth and is none other than the golden-eyed man Crowley saw when he woke up; his name is Jack, and for all intents and purposes, he considers Castiel to be his father.

An alternate version of Michael got a hold of Dean for a while, until Jack killed Michael at the cost of his soul, then, in a soulless rage, killed Mary.

God killed Jack. All Hell broke loose. Rowena, who’d apparently survived Lucifer’s last attempt to kill her, died to fix it and was now Queen of Hell.

Billie brought Jack back to kill God. Dean tried to kill Billie, so Billie tried to kill him. Castiel managed to take Billie out by admitting his love for Dean, at which point the Empty took Castiel—

Of course, thinks Crowley, the bitter taste in his mouth returning with a vengeance. Of. Bloody. Course...

The brothers had stormed the Empty not for him, but for Castiel. Good, noble, righteous Castiel, the wayward Angel of Thursday who’s been hopelessly in love with Dean for longer than Crowley has known him...and whom, it seems, Dean has finally admitted to loving back. Sam and Dean had saved Castiel because they loved him, because Dean loved him, but Crowley...They’d probably only rescued him because they’d figured they owed him for saving their denim-clad arses that day at the lake.

Now, as Crowley half-listens to Sam talk about defeating God, he glowers down at the map table and wishes they hadn’t bothered bringing him back at all, because it’s one thing to die unloved; it’s another to have to live that way. Crowley’s done both, and he knows which he prefers. At least in the Empty, he’d been at peace.

“Crowley? Hey, you okay?”

He looks up to see Sam regarding him from under a furrowed brow. Bollocks...

“Naturally,” Crowley says, leaning back in his chair with a dismissive smile. “That’s quite a tale, Moose. It sounds like you and Squirrel have outdone yourselves these past few years, even managed to pull one over on God; bravo. I’m sure Lucifer’s spawn will make a spectacular replacement: he is, after all, three.”

Sam’s eyes harden. “Jack’s nothing like Lucifer; he’s good, and he’s got us to help him, and Amara—”

“Oh, Amara! Now there’s a recipe for success if I’ve ever heard one: God’s evil sister and her Satanic great-nephew with billions of raw souls at their disposal. How could that possibly go wrong?” Crowley scoffs, shaking his head. “Honestly, there’s just no learning with you lot, is there? You just keep humming the same damn tune, then acting surprised when the notes turn sour, and it never even occurs to you to pick. A new. Bloody. Song.”

The frown on Sam’s face intensifies. “This is different. Jack, Amara, they’re on our side, and now that Rowena’s in charge of Hell—”

Crowley snorts. “Right. Care to wager on how long that lasts?” Then, at the look of sudden wariness on Sam’s face, he rolls his eyes. “Calm down, Moose; that wasn’t me plotting a coup. I have no plans to try and take back the crown.”

“You don’t?”

“Why on earth would I?” Crowley takes a sip of brandy, grimacing slightly at the flavor—for all the changes the past few years have wrought, the Winchesters’ abominable taste in liquor remains tragically consistent. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I hated Hell as much as the blasted place hated me. If Mother thinks she can do better, she can have it.”

They sit without speaking for a moment; then Sam clears his throat. “You know,” he says quietly, “Rowena regrets how things ended between the two of you.”

Crowley stiffens, a stab of anger piercing his gut. “No, she doesn’t.”

“She does,” Sam insists, and how anyone can look so stupidly earnest is beyond Crowley’s ability to comprehend. “She told us so.”

Crowley scoffs. “And you believed her?” he demands, left hand closing into a fist at his side. “You know, for the longest time, I thought you were the smart one.”

Sam sighs. “Crowley...Look, I’m not saying Rowena’s perfect—”

“She’s quite literally the Queen of Hell, Moose.” Crowley manages to keep his voice level, but his fingernails are digging into his palm. “I’d say that’s about as far from perfect as anyone can get.”

“—but I think you two should talk.”

Crowley’s hand starts to bleed.

“I mean it,” continues Sam, when Crowley says nothing. “When I was a kid, my dad...he wasn’t there the way he should’ve been, and we fought a lot, and there were times I felt like I hated him, but when he died...”

A multitude of emotions flicker across Sam’s face in rapid succession, too fast for Crowley to name them all, but the final one, the one Sam looks back at him with, is regret. “When he died,” Sam continues, “I didn’t care about any of that. And maybe I should have. I know I should have. Believe me, I tried. But I just...kept coming back to the fact that what I was feeling, the good and the bad, I’d never get to actually say it to him, and if he was somehow sorry for the bad, that was something I’d never get to hear.”

Crowley’s anger flares white hot; his hidden palm is slick with blood. “If you have a point,” he growls, “I’d encourage you to come out with it.”

“My point,” says Sam, curtly, “is that you actually have a chance at some closure, and I think you should take it. For your own sake.”

Crowley clenches his jaw, looks away. “For my own sake,” he echoes, softly. As if his and Sam’s pain is the same. As if Rowena is capable of causing anything but. “Tell me, Moose: since when do you or your imbecile of a brother actually give a damn about my own sake?”

He raises his gaze to stare coldly at Sam who, for the first time since they sat down, seems at a genuine loss for words. Crowley snaps his glass down on the table and stands. “Thought as much.”

He shoves his hands in his coat pockets and turns to go—where, exactly, he has no idea—only to nearly crash headlong into Dean, and suddenly, Crowley’s anger turns to outright fury, because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had gone up against Hell and his mother and even his own better judgment for Dean more times than he could count.

It didn’t matter that the two of them had shared a bed when Dean was a demon, doing extraordinary things to triplets that Crowley would have kicked out in a heartbeat if he’d thought he could get away with it.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had sacrificed his life to save Dean and Sam and the whole bloody world.

None of it mattered, because for all the times Crowley had chosen Dean, Dean had never once chosen him. Then again, Crowley thinks, maybe it’s his own fault for expecting any different, his due comeuppance for stupidly believing he deserved to be loved. It doesn’t matter; he knows better now.

“Hello, Dean,” he snarls. “Come to look in on me now that you’ve seen to your angel? Well you needn’t have bothered; I was just leaving.”

Dean frowns, crossing his arms. “The hell do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“I mean get out of my way.”

“No.”

“And why not?” Crowley demands, voice rising. “Am I your prisoner? I’ve already told your oaf of a brother that I’ve no interest in causing any sort of trouble in Hell, so if that’s what this is about, then you can just—”

“Damn it, Crowley,” snaps Dean, “no, that’s not what this is about; it’s about where are you even gonna go. You got a place somewhere we don’t know about?”

“I’ll find one.”

“Or,” Dean counters, “you could cut the crap and just stay here.”

That catches Crowley off guard, but only for a moment; he gives Dean a hard look, determined not to let the surprise show on his face. “And why on earth would I want to do that?”

“Because you know it’s the smart thing to do,” says Dean, face impassive, “and last I checked, you were an asshole, not an idiot.”

And it’s not that Crowley doesn't know full well that running off half-cocked into a world whose dynamics have fundamentally changed is naive at best and suicidal at worst—that isn’t what makes him nearly scream in rage, because he knows it’s patently true. No, the infuriating thing, the truly mortifying thing, is that Dean knows him well enough to know that he knows it, and that if Crowley does leave, he’s only going to prove Dean right.

The thought is more than Crowley can bear; still, if he doesn’t get out of this room right now, he’s going to start shouting—at Dean, at himself, at everything. There are other, less crowded places in this godforsaken Bunker, and it’s past time he went and found one. He’s not going to give Dean the satisfaction of watching him break.

Crowley pulls his fury tight and close, stepping forward into Dean’s space and glaring up at him with every bit of defiance he can muster. “Funny,” he sneers, “because last I checked, you were both.”

And he vanishes before Dean can respond.

*****

Crowley finds an unoccupied room at the far end of the hall and decides to claim it as his own for the time being. He bolts the door and turns to collapse onto the bed...only to freeze dead in his tracks.

His mother is standing in the corner. As Crowley gapes, Rowena takes a step forward, face pale and incredulous. “Fergus?” she whispers. “Gods, is it really you?”

Her voice snaps Crowley out of his shock, and he narrows his eyes. “Mother,” he growls, the word like poison in his mouth. “What do you want?”

“Sam told me they were going to try and get you back,” Rowena says softly, eyes roving over Crowley’s face as though seeing him for the first time, “and I wanted...I needed to see if they’d done it, if you were all right.”

Crowley glares, making a mental note to have a word with Sam about this particular indiscretion. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now get out.”

Rowena recoils, and if Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d swear his words actually hurt her. “You’re angry,” she says. “You’re angry, and you’ve every right to be, but if you’d just let me explain—”

“Explain what?” Crowley snaps. He clenches both hands into fists, ignoring the burn in his left palm. “What could you possibly have to say to me that I’d want to hear? You hate me, remember?”

“I love you—”

Crowley barks out a laugh. “Really? Have you forgotten the last time we saw each other? You left on a bus after you sent my son to his death, all because you wanted to watch me ‘suffer the loss of a child’, of my child!” He stumbles towards her, half-blind with rage. “Tell me, Mother: did losing me bring you any suffering, or were you just sad you weren’t there to collect three pigs in exchange?”

Rowena looks as though she’s been slapped. “Of course I suffered! Do you have any idea what I went through trying to get you back? I faced Death herself; I begged her to return you to me, but she wouldn’t do it! Ask Sam, ask Dean!”

“They’ve already told me,” Crowley grinds out. “It doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?” Rowena is crying now, tears rolling freely down her face. “Of course it matters! I did it because I missed you, because I love you!”

“You’ve never loved me a day in your life.”

“That isn’t true! I did love you; I do!” Rowena takes another step forward and reaches out a hand. “If you could just find it in your heart to forgive me—”

“Forgive you?” Crowley snarls, and it’s all he can do not to spit in her face. “You don’t get to ask for my forgiveness, not after any one thing you’ve put me through, not after everything! What was it you said to me that day at the bus station, your parting words? ‘Who better than me to crush your shriveled heart’? At least I had a heart, once; you never did.”

“Fergus—”

And Crowley explodes. “GET OUT!” he screams, seizing the lamp off the bedside table and hurling it at his mother with all his might...only to watch as it flies right through her and crashes into the wall.

And then Rowena’s gone, just like she always is, and Crowley’s alone, just like he always is. He stands in the middle of the room and stares hollowly into empty space. “Astral projection,” he says, quietly; it always had been one of his mother’s favorite tricks. “Of course.”

He spends the rest of the night warding the room as many ways as he knows how, determined not to let his mother or anyone else get the drop on him again.

#crowley #spn crowley #fergus macleod #crowley macleod #crowley fic #spn #supernatural #supernatural fix-it fic #spn fix-it fic #fanfiction #a new kind of life #my writing #here we gooooo!!!

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pendragonsandbuckleys · 3 years

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Reclaiming that broken youth.

Summary: Michael had made it his mission to relive a small piece of the past with Alex. First he tried with the rings, two chunky black and silver things that he’d claimed had been left at the junkyard during his one of his shifts. Alex had simply joked that they weren’t his style anymore and left it at that.

The eyeliner had been a much harder sell and still Alex had refused.

And now, as he was ambling his way up the driveway, he was starting to think that maybe his third attempt would not be so lucky.

aka. Michael convinces Alex to let him dye his hair.

Word Count: 4,949

[Also on AO3]

Was it embarrassing the number of excuses he’d found to come and see Alex? Yes.

Was he going to stop anytime soon? Not likely.

Nostalgia had been rearing its ugly head again leaving him craving a time long since passed and he’d been coming up with whatever reason he could to justify seeing Alex. Going to his house, or the Project Shepard bunker, or the Crashdown where he just happened to bump into him.

The photo of the two of them had been moved from the cardboard box to the desk along with the few other pictures he treasured of Max and Isobel - he couldn’t make it too obvious after all. But seeing the two of them together like that often made him miss what they used to have. Things were so much simpler back then, until they weren’t.

The problem with nostalgia though was that the feelings weren’t real. They were an echo of what used to be that tended to leave an uncomfortable emptiness the longer you thought about it.

That time had passed and there was no getting it back. Unless?

Surely they didn’t need to be seventeen again to get that feeling back. That soft, carefree feeling that used to settle on their skin as they kissed in the desert.

That’s why he had made it his mission to relive a small piece of the past with Alex. First he tried with the rings, two chunky black and silver things that he’d claimed had been left at the junkyard during one of his shifts. Alex had simply joked that they weren’t his style anymore and left it at that.

The eyeliner had been a much harder sell and still Alex had refused.

And now, as he was ambling his way up the driveway, he was starting to think that maybe his third attempt would not be so lucky.

Three quick taps on the wood brought Alex to the door and he was so focused on the sight of him that Michael barely noticed the smile it brought to his own face. He was in full casual wear, t-shirt, jogging bottoms, matching bed hair sticking up in a perfect mess.

“Hey.” Alex welcomed him with a bright smile. If he was at all surprised to see Michael on his doorstep on an early Saturday morning with absolutely no warning, he hid it very well. His eyes darted over to see where the truck had been parked comfortably on the driveway, before flitting back to Michael.

“I thought we could have some fun.” Michael spoke with a smirk, forgoing any formal greeting, eyes already glistening with mischief. And oh how differently that sentence would have been taken when they were seventeen.

Alex was about to step aside without hesitation when he noticed the box held gently in Michael’s grip. He eyed it warily, already sensing the reasoning for the visit. “What is that?”

“Fun!”

“Um no, I believe that’s called hair dye.”

“Just hear me out.” Michael grinned as he confidently side-stepped his way through the doorway and into the house. “We haven’t hung out properly in a while and we both have the day off…”

Alex shook his head as he pushed the door closed behind him and followed Michael towards the living room. He never would have denied Michael entry, but there was something about him making himself at home that gave Alex a warm feeling in his chest. “See, you keep saying we but I don’t see a box of dye for your hair anywhere.”

“Yeah, well I never had an emo phase, did I?”

“The important word there being phase.” Alex crossed his arms against his chest as he peered down at Michael’s hands again. It was a white box with a bunch of writing on it, but the guy on the front was very clearly modelling the black dye inside. “You know I never actually used to dye my hair back then, right?”

Michael shrugged and waved his hand in the air as if to say whatever, we’re doing it anyway and handed the box over for Alex to get a better look. “You vetoed my other options so I’m stepping up my game.”

Alex watched him closely, noting how he squirmed slightly under his gaze. At first, when Michael had started dropping by a few weeks ago, always at odd hours, always unannounced, Alex had been worried. The ‘hanging out’ excuse could easily have been a guise, an easy escape from any problems he was avoiding and Alex didn’t know how long was best to let Michael hide from whatever was going on.

But seeing him now, wide eyes filled with an innocent sort of playfulness, it looked like Michael really did just want to spend time with him. Even if he did have the most random idea for a pass time. “Why are you so desperate for me to dress all emo again?”

“For…fun?”

Alex chewed his bottom lip to hide the small smile threatening to emerge. “I’m only off work for a week, you know.”

“That’s why it’s temporary.” Michael turned the box around in Alex’s hand and tapped at the words printed clearly on the back. “Three washes and it’s gone.”

“You’ve got an answer for everything, haven’t you?”

Michael wasted no time in getting them set up. He grabbed a spare plastic bowl from the kitchen cupboard, an old towel that Alex didn’t care about dirtying and set Alex’s shower stool in front of the large bathroom mirror.

He should have been embarrassed by how excited he was getting, but he was far too busy being filled with said excitement to care. Against all odds, Alex had actually agreed to do this with very little persuasion required and there was no way he was letting him change his mind.

Alex didn’t interrupt as Michael rummaged his way around the house, finding what he needed and he certainly didn’t show his bemusement at how Michael seemed to know exactly where everything was. And once everything was ready, he took his place in the designated seat, strangely nervous at the thought of Michael dyeing his hair.

Though maybe it wasn’t nerves. He certainly had butterflies, though it could be from the thought of engaging in this teenage sleepover-esque activity. For the boy he liked to come over to his house and willingly run his fingers through his hair for the next hour? Seventeen year old Alex would have done anything for this.

“Right, tell me what to do.” Michael said as he pulled the instructions from the box and handed them to Alex before emptying the rest of the contents next to the sink. He’d probably end up doing it his own way, but he just wanted to give Alex an excuse to stop staring at him as he worked.

As Alex unravelled the instructions a small packet of gloves fell out onto his lap. They didn’t look the sturdiest but it was better than nothing. “There’s the gloves so make sure you wear them,” he said as he placed them next to the bowl.

He gave a quick skim read of the words to get a general idea of what do. There was a lot of writing and he doubted Michael would be patient for long enough to get through it all. “Oh okay, this sounds pretty easy, literally just brush it evenly through my hair.”

Michael nodded distractedly as he carefully fiddled with the lid of the tube. The room wasn’t exactly big and he’d already elbowed a wall with one arm and knocked the empty bowl to the floor with the other. Tripping over the towel had been an added bonus that Alex had enjoyed far too much. He had no idea where this clumsiness had suddenly come from, but now he was being extra careful with everything.

“Put it in gently. We don’t want it going everywhere.” Alex instructed him as he squeezed the dye into the bowl. The coal-black cream squelched as it left the tube and a small drop splattered onto the white tile wall which Michael hastily wiped with the back of his hand. It smeared across the wall at first until he managed to clean it all off.

With everything set up, he clamped Alex’s towel covered shoulders and beamed at him through the mirror’s reflection. “You ready?”

“Go for it.” Alex rolled his eyes at the enthusiasm radiating off Michael. Yep, he definitely felt like a teenager right now.

Michael started out slow. The dye was cool against his fingers as he scooped a blob into his palm. He knew Alex would be able to wash it out almost instantly if it ended up looking terrible, but still, he didn’t want to get it wrong.

He took a breath before reaching for Alex’s hair. Only now did it click just how intimate this activity was for two people who had barely done more than stand a few feet away from each other recently. He thought it would be a bit of fun, getting Alex to dress up in his old high school persona that they both used to love. But now, with the dye in his hand, he realised that meant running his fingers through Alex’s hair. An action that he used to love whenever they kissed. The smooth strands under his fingertips, pulling him closer when he could no longer control his urges.

But they were friends now. And friends dyed each other’s hair, right? Friends helped each other put on makeup or decided outfits if one was going on a date, so doing each other’s hair was no different from all of that.

The strands of hair slid across his palm easily, turning from dark brown to black with a single touch. It felt just as soft as it did ten years ago.

The room was silent as he worked save for Michael’s movements and the occasional hmm from Alex. Michael wasn’t sure if Alex realised that he was making the little noises but he was just glad he was finding it relaxing. The casual glances over Alex’s head and into the mirror showed that his eyes were closed, his lips curled into a small smile.

Michael was surprised by how much he was enjoying it himself. He was used to working with his hands all day, but this was different. Working on the cars was methodical, a heavy-handed muscle memory from years of experience, but this? This was gentle, personal.

It took about as long as would be expected to cover hair of Alex’s length and as Michael moved to the front so he could finish up the fringe, Alex opened his eyes to watch him work, “So really, what’s with all the emo stuff?”

Michael avoided the eye contact as he concentrated on turning the remaining brown into black. How could he explain that he was feeling nostalgic without it sounding sappy?

“It’s probably just some misguided attempt at reclaiming my youth.” He answered as he scooped more dye onto his fingers.

“Okay, but it seems more like we’re reclaiming my youth.”

“Yeah, well, this part of your youth was the best part of mine.” Michael replied without thinking, feeling the heat instantly rise up his cheeks at the honest answer.

The mortification was written so clear on his face that Alex forced himself to hold back a chuckle. They were still working on getting that openness back to their friendship, so for it to come out so easily every now and then was a nice step in the right direction.

“I actually always wanted to dye my hair back then.” Alex spoke up, steering into a new conversation to save Michael’s embarrassment. “It seemed like the next logical step for my fashion choice.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Getting the eyeliner passed dad was enough of a challenge and even then it was something I could take off pretty instantly if need be. I think the dye would have been too much of a risk.”

Michael felt a pang of sympathy for all Alex had to endure back then, he’d seen it firsthand several times all the way up until Jesse Manes’ death after all. But no. They weren’t going to dwell on that today. If they were reclaiming their youth then all unwanted memories were unwelcome and henceforth banned from all thoughts.

He nudged Alex’s shoulder playfully as he moved back to the bowl. “And you didn’t have an expert hairdresser to do it for you.”

“That too.” Alex laughed, rolling his eyes as he heard the sound of yet another blob of dye dropping to the floor, “Though I didn’t expect my hairdresser to get it everywhere but my hair.”

Michael gritted his teeth with a frown as he looked down at the small black splatter, a glaringly obvious stain against the white. “Hey, that’s only the third time.”

He ran his hands through Alex’s hair for the last time, being careful to check that every strand was covered. The dye had already started doing its job beautifully and emo Alex was very much taking hold.

It was as he was stepping back to inspect his finished work did he notice just how much of a mess he’d actually made, sheepishly pointing out to Alex that there was some on the edge of the sink, a few blobs in the shower and it was on the wall in about four different places.

“How the hell did it get there, I didn’t even go near that wall.” Michael exclaimed, utterly confounded at the mess he’d managed to create. Had he been in his own head so much that his hands had taken on a life of their own?

“It’s fine,” Alex laughed fondly as he nudged the bin closer with his foot. “Just put the gloves in there before you touch anything else.”

“…wait, there were gloves?”

Alex turned around this time to look at Michael properly. He hadn’t noticed the lack of gloves on the hands in his hair, but looking at them now he could see they were completely covered not by the plastic, but by a creamy black gunk. Michael had a mischievous look on his face, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he tried not to snigger and Alex could feel himself doing the same. “What is the first thing I said to you?”

“Put it in gently?”

They couldn’t hold back their laughter. Scrubbing his hands removed all but the faint grey tint now dyed into his skin, but Michael didn’t care. Maybe it was all the dye fumes, but it felt like he was on a weird kind of high. Here they were, two boys giggling away like they’d been caught making out in the supply closet at school and in that moment everything felt right with the world.

Leaning back against the sink Michael crossed his arms as he admired Alex’s hair from the front. Even slicked back against his head it was looking good but they still had twenty minutes to fill before it was ready. “So, what should we do while we wait?”

Alex slyly leant over to the bowl, still filled a quarter of the way with leftover dye and waggled his eyebrows impishly at the horrified look Michael was now giving him. “Come on Guerin, it washes out.”

It really was quite a small bathroom with nowhere to run so as Alex stood up to get closer, Michael backed away so much he practically fell into the shower. The laughter returned as he tried to hide as much of his hair as he could with his arms. “Nope. These curls are sacred and there’s no way you’re turning them black. The most you’d ever get on me is the eyeliner.”

Alex gasped gleefully, eyes wide with excitement as he watched it dawn on Michael what he’d just said. He opened the bathroom cabinet and there, at the back of the bottom shelf, was Michael’s latest gift to him. Still unused, he’d only kept it for sentimental reasons, a fond reminder of his past self, but now Michael had no excuse.

“Take a seat.” Alex batted his eyelids innocently as he gestured to the stool he had vacated and Michael had no choice but to comply. He always found it hard to deny Alex anything, but right now, he’d do anything to keep that joy in his eyes.

Alex hadn’t used eyeliner in over ten years. At age seventeen it had taken him weeks to perfect the art without smudging it or poking himself in the eye and when he first joined the military he often missed the soothing action of it. But now, a decade on, he still held the pencil with the hands of someone who would never forget how to use it.

Michael looked up at him expectantly from the seat, a slight tingling rushing through him as Alex held his chin to tilt it upwards. He’d never worn any kind of makeup before, never really had the urge to, but there was always a first time for everything.

There was something quite sexy about Alex knowing exactly what to do, telling him when to look up, when to blink, pressing the pencil down just enough to leave the colour on his skin, but not too soft that it tickled. His hands were very gentle as they held Michael’s face and he felt his mind wandering as he let Alex work.

“Guerin, stay still or it’s going in your eye.” Alex admonished lightly, tongue poking out as he concentrated. He was surprised by how steady his hand was being and he didn’t want to mess it up now.

He gave a few more strokes before stepping away, tapping the pencil against his chin as he admired his work with a grin. An eyeliner-wearing Michael was never a look he’d imagined before, but it sure was a look he was appreciating. It was a subtle change, but one that made Alex want to dress him in a leather jacket and start a rock band with him. “All done.”

Mourning the loss of Alex’s touch, Michael sighed as he got to his feet, knees popping as he stood up and leaned in close to the mirror.

He looked…different. Not a bad different, maybe even a good different. It made his eyes seem brighter and his lashes look darker and the longer he looked in the mirror the wider he could see Alex’s smile getting.

“Alright, I’ll give you this one. It doesn’t look too bad.”

“Right!” Alex was practically giddy as he stepped closer to look at Michael’s eyes through the mirror. Their hands brushed lightly as they both leaned against the sink. “I didn’t think it would look this good, but now I’m starting to wish you’d had this look in high school.”

Michael turned to face him then, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes roamed over Alex’s face. Maybe this whole nostalgia thing wasn’t so bad when you had someone to share it with.

He grabbed the eyeliner from Alex’s hand before he could be stopped and held it above his head with an eager grin as if Alex couldn’t reach it easily. “Your turn.”

Michael had been banished to the sofa while Alex washed out the dye. He’d willingly volunteered to help but Alex wanted the finished look to be a surprise. Not that he could blame him. If it looked terrible at least it would give Alex the chance to kick Michael out of the house before he even saw it.

Not that that would actually happen, Michael had done an excellent job and the finished article would prove just that, thank you very much.

The muffled noise of the shower turning on and off filtered through the walls as he peered around the room. He’d seen the inside of Alex’s house enough times now to know the layout but not enough to know its contents.

The colourful spines of the neat pile of books stood out against the brown of the table they were sitting on. Their titles were too small to read from across the room but it made Michael wonder what kind of books Alex read now. He’d never thought to ask in all the time he’d been back in Roswell. Did he still read fantasy books like the ones Michael used to see him get lost in for hours at a time? Or were they non-fiction, filled with facts about a world that Alex had always longed to explore.

There were a few plants dotted around the room which Michael was nerdy enough to know the names of. They weren’t the type that required much watering though Michael could almost picture a green-thumbed Alex taking care to provide them what they needed.

But taking up most of the space was a whole range of musical items. A turntable alongside a crowded box of records, because of course that’s how Alex liked to listen to his music. A pair of speakers on either of side of his keyboard, a thick black pair of headphones sitting atop the black and white keys. And guitars. So many guitars.

I mean come on, four of them in one room? Alex was practically begging him to pick one up.

Three of them were next to the keyboard, held neatly on their individual stands, but it was the guitar standing alone that caught his attention. It was leaning almost precariously against the wall, looking like it could slide to the floor at the smallest touch but he had a feeling it had been there for a while. It was the one Alex had tried to gift to him all those months ago, after all.

Before he could stop himself, he pushed off the sofa and edged towards the guitar. Its case had been unzipped just enough at the top to show the dark brown wood poking through and Michael didn’t hesitate to unzip it the rest of the way.

Plucking a few of the strings made Michael wonder if maybe Alex had played it recently. It seemed to be perfectly in tune. It had been a little while now since he’d held a guitar, let alone played one, but this one seemed to fit so naturally in his hands.

The faint whirring of the hair dryer could now be heard through the bedroom door and Michael couldn’t help himself. His fingers fell into place effortlessly and played a tune that he once played for Alex all those years ago. It wasn’t hard to remember, it was one of the only songs he actually knew by heart and the muscle memory of the notes hadn’t failed him yet.

As the strings vibrated under his fingertips, the rest of the world fell away, the soft melody filling the room. He’d missed this, the calm that would wash over him whenever he used to play and for a brief moment as his fingers slipped between the C and G chords he wondered why he ever gave the guitar back.

“Suits you.” Alex’s quiet voice interrupted the notes and Michael almost dropped the guitar in his surprise. He hadn’t heard the hairdryer stop, hadn’t heard the door creaking open but the way Alex was smiling at him told him he had nothing to feel embarrassed about.

The smile wasn’t what he was focused on though.

The inky black hair had turned out so much better than he’d ever imagined. The dark strands contrasted his lightly tanned skin so starkly and Michael could tell that he had taken a few extra minutes to style it a little.

His eyeliner was mismatched and uneven - one eye having been done badly by Michael before Alex, fearing the idea of getting poked in the eye again, had confiscated the pencil and finished the second eye perfectly by himself.

He looked like his innocent seventeen year old self.

But also not. His features were matured enough to set the illusion off-kilter just slightly.

He looked incredible.

Michael wasn’t sure when his legs had made the decision to stand up, but here he was, two feet away from Alex, staring at him with his mouth half open. Alex took the silence the wrong way though as he gave a nervous laugh, feeling his cheeks redden.

He anxiously rubbed the back of his neck and the movement knocked Michael out of his daze. He slowly dragged his eyes away from Alex’s hair and down to his lips, watching them form the words as he spoke. “It looks terrible, doesn’t it?”

Had Alex even looked in the mirror? Had he not seen what Michael was seeing right now?

And it’s not even like the hair and makeup changed him that much. He’s looked beautiful the entire time Michael has known him, he just looked beautiful with his old style right this second rather than his new one.

Maybe Michael just always thought Alex looked most comfortable in his seventeen-year-old style, it was a look he had precisely crafted for himself to best represent the person he was. The black jumpers with bold patterns, the makeup, the piercings. It was the look of a rebellious kid who didn’t want to fit in.

His current style was created through circumstance, through being forced to take on a duty that he never chose but has now made his own. And his style was his own now too, the muted colours much more reserved, but still his choice.

But now standing before him was a beautiful combination of both of those people and oh dear, he’s never really stopped thinking about Alex this way, has he? And more important, how long has he been staring at him without saying a single word?

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his throat had gone strangely dry.

“No.” He whispered in reply as he stepped closer, his feet making their own decisions again and he suddenly couldn’t stop himself. In that moment he couldn’t remember why he had been holding back for all of these months when the person he wanted most in the world was standing right in front of him.

He kissed him before he could stop himself, hands gently grabbing Alex’s face, feeling soft lips against his own. It felt like he was seventeen again, kissing for the first time in the darkened rooms of the UFO Emporium but as his hands crept up into Alex’s hair the sound of a distant car horn through the open kitchen window broke through his dream-filled haze and he realised what he had just done.

“Oh god, I’m sorry.” Michael stuttered out as he pulled away with a gasp, instantly embarrassed at how impulsive he had been. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed trained on Alex’s chest, not daring to lift them any higher. In one tiny moment of weakness he had broken their agreement and he wanted to kick himself for how stupid that had been.

It had been decided that they would just be friends. No drama, no fighting and definitely no sex. The relationship between them would be strictly supportive and platonic and as much as Michael had longed for them to be something, he had agreed for the sake of keeping any kind of connection with Alex. And turns out, he couldn’t even give him that.

If he had looked up he would have seen the surprise on Alex’s face. Surprise that Michael had kissed him - sure - but more the surprise that Michael had pulled away so abruptly. And far too soon for that matter.

Before Alex could talk himself out of it, he took Michael’s face in his hands and kissed him right back. His heart fluttered as Michael instantly pulled him closer, softer this time, as if they both knew in that moment that there was no rush.

Michael’s entire body tingled, heat filling his chest as Alex lips parted with a tiny breath. He was hardly aware of what his own hands were doing, so desperate to never let go, his knees almost giving out as the rest of the world fell away, leaving them in their intimate, almost forbidden, moment.

As his fingers ran through the soft strands of the freshly dyed hair, Michael was reminded of every other time they had performed this same action, how natural this felt, how safe, like coming home.

“I would have let you dye my hair weeks ago if I’d known that’s all it would take.” Alex sighed as they parted, still only inches from Michael’s face, not daring to move any further lest the spell be broken. He hadn’t seen the day going this way when Michael had turned up on his doorstep with his mischievous grin but he wasn’t about to complain.

Michael gave a small huff of laughter at the unexpected comment, his hands itching to pull Alex closer. He had been wanting to do that for a long time, but he’d been good. He’d stuck to their agreement and given Alex the space to move on, no matter how many times he’d wanted to rebuild that abandoned bridge between them. But it seems the long awaited move had now finally been made and he didn’t have to hold back anymore.

Because here Alex was, black hair, dark eyeliner, standing in front of him with that nervous post-kiss smile that Michael had missed for far too long and now he never wanted to let this moment go.

It seems today had definitely been third time lucky.

Very lucky indeed.

Thank you for reading 💜✨

#roswell new mexico #alex manes fic #michael guerin fic #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #malex #my fic

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trashyswitch · 3 years

Text

The New Life of a Dying Afton

Michael walks himself to Henry's house, gutted and disintegrating like a zombie. Henry tries to help him as best he can, and reprimands him for breaking their personal past promises.

This fanfic prompt came up after the following question ran through my head: How would Henry react to scooped Michael? This is my take on it! However, I will warn you: it's dark, gorey and quite sad at times. Though it ends on a bittersweet note, it won't change the general tone and gore within the beginning.

So despite that: here's the fanfic.

Henry was watching TV at home, trying to unwind from his day at work. It was getting tiring trying to work the long shifts these days. It was getting painful too. Some of the mechanical engineering he did in his 20’s were starting to get to him and his physical body now. His back often ached and his right hand would grow more and more painful the longer he worked any kind of machinery. Guess you could say he’s going through the Dirty 30’s of his life. Most of the time the pains and aches didn’t come till the 40’s or 50’s! But some people are just unlucky, I guess.

Henry looked at the time on his watch and sighed as he got up and started to make himself dinner. His wife was out hanging out with a few friends, leaving him to eat dinner alone. He threw some leftover lasagna into the microwave and set it to an estimated time. While he waited patiently for it to warm up, Henry grabbed the newspaper and read it for anything even slightly interesting.

He felt like a retired person: depressed, working a small part time job and living in a small, semi-old house. It worked for what he did, but he sometimes missed the good old days. The days William was a good person with only a quirky personality to prove his eventual criminal mind. It’s strange looking back now, remembering the little things he’d do that would later make sense after killing those children. He remembered the times Will would grow numb and distant, especially after something tragic happened. Example: When Chris died. Now, Henry knew that any death was capable of changing a person.

But William...almost snapped and remained that broken way up until he went missing. He almost lost it when he found out a second Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria was going to open. Why was he the only one who wanted to throw away the Fazbear Entertainment Business for good?! Was it even salvageable after the killings and the Bite of 87?! He really wanted the whole nightmare in his 20’s to be over. But the Fazbear Entertainment was not helping him to stop thinking about it. They just HAD to try and get profit off the animatronic business. He had sadly started a chain of circumstances that he can’t let go of for his life.

Even though he wasn’t the killer, Henry still felt partly responsible for the huge mess he made of things.

Henry’s thoughts were quickly pushed aside as he heard a knock on the door. Henry looked up and looked over at the microwave. It still had a few seconds left. So, Henry stopped the microwave and walked to the door.

He opened up the door. “Hello-”

Henry shouted in horror and just about died from a heart attack right there on the spot! ZOMBIE!

Henry fell his butt and scooted himself back as the zombie held his hands out. “Henry hold on!” it told him.

IT KNEW HIS NAME?! OH NO! “AAAAAH! SH- SHIT! STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

Henry tried to kick the door shut on the crippled, dead looking thing. But to his horror, the walking corpse grabbed his ankle! Henry SHRIEKED as loud as he could!

“HENRY! Henry, it’s me, Michael!” The corpse yelled to him. “Look!” The corpse pulled out his wallet and showed him his health card with a picture on it.

“YOU- YOU STOLE THAT!” Henry tried to tell himself out loud as he looked up at the face. “IT CAN’T BE! MICHAEL’S ALIVE AND FIT, AND-” Henry words started to fade as he immediately recognized the face of the poor boy he knew so well. “I-” He took the health card from him and held it up beside the face of the walking corpse.

Holy crap...it looked EXACTLY LIKE HIM! Except, it looked like Michael hadn’t taken a bath or brushed his hair in weeks! To make things worse, it looked like something under his shirt had been bleeding heavily and staining the shirt.

Henry dropped the health card in pure shock and covered his mouth. “What happened to you?!” He asked as he started to stand up.

Tears started falling down Michael’s darkening cheeks as he reached his hands out, visibly begging for a hug. Henry quickly acted, pulling him into a worried but loving hug. Michael wrapped his arms around him as well, and started crying into his shoulder. He was mentally exhausted from everything he had just been through. He was even partially holding himself up.

Henry rubbed his back and tried to ignore the slightly ghastly smell that was coming from him. He really looked like he was rotting from the outside in. He was secretly hoping the smell was just body oil drowning his skin, pores and scalp. Strangely enough though, Michael didn’t feel moist. He felt...dry. Like super dry. Like heavy amounts of Eczema was covering and destroying his skin bit by bit.

Henry finally pulled away and cupped his purple cheeks. “You...I hate to be that kind of person, but…” Henry brought his hands to his shoulders instead. “You look like shit!”

Michael guffawed somewhat quietly and cracked a yellow, lobsided smile. “I know…” He told him.

“How did this happen? And...do you need some cream?” Henry asked, slightly laughing despite the pain and confusion of seeing Michael so distressed and disfigured.

Michael looked at the back of his own hand, and nodded. “Yes please.” Michael replied, staring at the exposed skin where his nails used to be.

Henry grabbed some cream from the bathroom and handed it to him. Michael sat down on a chair in the living room, and removed the bottle cap. While that was happening, Henry got up and headed to the kitchen to get his presumably hot food from the microwave. He checked his food, and smiled when it felt nice and warm. Henry pulled his lasagna out of the microwave, and walked out to the living room again to check on his less-than-okay nephew.

Michael was putting strips of cream onto his arm and...patting the cream onto his skin instead of rubbing it. Henry widened his eyes and blinked in confusion. That is not how you put cream on. Literally no one puts cream on like that! “Uuuuuh...Doooo you want help? You act like you’ve never put cream onto your skin before.” Henry asked.

“I’m fine.” Michael replied.

HA! That’s a laugh and a half. He is most certainly NOT okay!

“If I rub the cream on like normal, I’ll remove all the skin that’s dying. So I have to be very gentle.” Michael admitted.

Henry blinked and frowned. “Then...is it even worth the fuss?” Henry asked.

“No. But it feels nice and cool.” Michael replied.

“Would...would you rather you had a bath?” Henry asked, placing his lasagna down.

“I’ve tried bathing. But...the skin and hair just falls off and clogs everything.” Michael admitted.

Henry just about gagged at that. Gosh...Whatever happened to him, must be such a pain. He looked down at his plate and...gave it a push away from him. He was quickly losing his appetite. “So what exactly happened to you? Did you get hit with radiation? Are you dying?” Henry asked. “It sounds like radiation poisoning to me. Did you hear about that Nuclear Reactor explosion that happened in Russia?” Henry added.

Michael shook his head.

“A nuclear reactor exploded, and they predict hundreds of thousands of people were exposed to radiation. Hair falling off, skin dying out, and skin color change are all part of it.” Henry explained.

Michael shook his head. “No. I wasn’t exposed to radium. But I did get hit with a metal scooping system.” Michael explained.

Henry tilted his head. “Scooper?”

Michael sighed. “A huge device that looks like an ice cream scooper, that destroys animatronics.” Michael explained.

Henry blinked and quickly looked at him. Did he just say animatronics?!

“Wait wait wait…” Henry pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. “You didn’t get yourself a job at the old pizzeria, did you?” Henry asked.

Michael shook his head. “Circus Baby’s Pizza-”

“Oh my fucking- MICHAEL!” Henry yelled. “We talked about this! I don’t want you having anything to do with your crazy fucking father! I know it’s probably curiosity that led you to do this, but come on!” Henry reacted. “Did none of that curious cat story stick to you at all?!” Henry asked.

Michael groaned. “That was 6 years ago.” Michael reacted.

“Still! It still applies here. The cat wanted to know what was at the bottom of the well, and tried to swim to get down there. But: she died before she got to see the bottom. One small question about your father, and now look at you! Rotting right in front of me!” Henry reacted.

Michael just chuckled at that. “Hey look: I died after getting my answer.”

“MICHAEL! Death is NOT a joke.” Henry spat at him. “You of all people should know that by now.”

“It can be if it happens enough times.” Michael admitted.

Henry stood up, walked right up to Michael and slapped him across the face. Michael widened his eyes and held his hand up to his own face. “That’s for not listening to me and getting yourself scooped like an ice cream tub.” Henry shot at him.

Michael frowned. “Don’t use ice cream as an allegory. I’ve heard it plenty enough for a lifetime from Elizabeth.”

Michael’s angry face morphed into surprise. “You...you found Elizabeth?” Henry asked.

“Mm hmm...Baby’s eyes changed color to match Elizabeth’s eyes.” Michael explained. “And...she was scooped too.”

Henry frowned. “Did you find anyone else while you were there?” Henry asked.

“Besides a ballerina whose voice strangely reminds me of my mother...no.” Michael replied.

Henry sighed and sat himself down. “Come on: let’s...cover up the tub drain with a drain cover, and let’s get you a bath ready.” Henry decided.

Michael looked up at him and looked down again. Something was up with him. But...he wasn’t saying anything.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong? Or am I gonna have to guess?” Henry asked.

Michael sighed again and started to lift up his shirt. Henry gasped and covered his mouth in panic as he looked at what was left of Michael’s middle. It was just a big, rotting hole of purple with only the lower ribs to identify specifically what was missing.

“Does…” Henry almost felt the need to put his hand in between the hole. “Does it hurt?” He asked, holding his hand out.

Michael gently took Henry’s hand and led it into the hole. The moment his hand went an inch deep without touching anything, Henry pulled his hand away and shook his head in disgust and fear. “It’s okay. Look:” Michael stuck his own hand into the hole, deeper and deeper. Until, he flinched slightly from the strange feeling of his hand touching his spine and nerves. Henry yelped and covered his mouth with his fist with anxiety filling him. He was so nervous he was gonna drop dead at any moment.

Michael removed his hand and gave Henry a smile to show ‘everything’s weird, but fine’. Though the deep red blood on the boy’s hand didn’t help much.

Henry almost shivered. “You sir...are really testing my stomach.” Henry mentioned.

Michael giggled and brought his bloody hand closer to Henry’s face! Henry shrieked and fell right off the couch! Michael bursted out laughing at the reaction, and got up to clean his hand.

“Ew ew ew ew gross- That’s the most inappropriate thing you could’ve done!” Henry reacted.

Michael just leaned forward against the sink and laughed at him. Henry’s reaction was perfect!

“Oh! OH! You wanna laugh now? Alright, you asked for it!” Henry stood right up, walked up to Michael and started tickling his ribs.

Michael yelped. “AAAHAHA! HENRY, WAHAHAIT!”

“WOW! Dead, purple, but still ticklish as ever!” Henry reacted. “Guess your death hasn’t killed off your nerves yet.” Henry brought Michael against the counter, turned him around to lean against his back, and continued attacking his ribs.

“STAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT! WHYHYHYHY?!” Michael asked, through his strong laughter.

“Why?! Because not only did you manage to break the many rules we agreed on, but you managed to nearly get yourself killed!” Henry reacted.

Michael grabbed Henry’s hands and held them away as he tried to breathe. “Hohohold ohohon…”

“Okay, okay. Take your time.” Henry allowed him.

Michael looked up at him. “Ihihi...Why though? Why did I live after...getting scooped?” Michael asked. He didn’t wanna tell Henry about Ennard, knowing he’ll flip even more if he mentioned a sentient animatronic that wanted to disguise himself.

Henry’s looked down a little and bit his lip. “Well…” He took a moment to think of how he was gonna tell him. “The only way I can describe it...is by giving it a name. I call it ‘The Afton curse’.” Henry explained with an awkward chuckle.

Michael frowned. “...Ouch. I know my family has a bad wrap, but I’m still an Afton too.” He admitted.

“I know, I know. It affects more than just the Afton family as well. Example: my little Charlie.” Henry admitted.

Michael looked down.

“Basically: The Afton family and those who’ve known William, have the unfortunate habit of possessing animatronics.” Henry explained. “But you seem to have gone down a new option: zombifying.” Henry explained.

Michael lifted an eyebrow. “You sound like an alien conspiracy theorist.” He told him.

“I know, I know. But it’s the only way I can explain the ‘possessing animatronics’ thing.” Henry mentioned. “Also, it doesn’t exactly help that the children William killed also rotted in the animatronics.” Henry added.

Michael made a disgusted face. “Great...I’m rotting without an animatronic to hold me together. And I’m stuck with this family curse because I’m genetically linked to a killer.” Michael groaned. “I have never wanted to slap my father across the face more than I do now.” Michael admitted.

Henry laughed a little. “Don’t we all?”

Michael smiled at that. “Can we...stop talking about the ‘Afton curse’? And maybe go back to the ‘You died! Time to tickle you!’ thing?” Michael asked.

Henry laughed and was taken back. “Really?!”

If Michael could have blushed, he probably would’ve at that very moment. “I mean...yeah! I kinda feel like laughing-” Michael’s explanation was quickly interrupted by a pair of hands tickling his ribs again. “HeheheHEHAHAHAHAHA! OHBOY- OKAHAHAYHYHYHY!”

“I don’t think I fully remember just how ticklish you are. I doubt you even remember either! It’s probably been a while since you were last tickled.” Henry admitted.

“YOHOHOHOU THIHIHIHINK?” Michael reacted.

“Yes! Now hush. I wanna hear some squeals and snorts from you.” Henry ordered jokingly as he lifted one of his arms up.

“HEHEHEHEhehehe...Henry, don’t even think about it!” Michael ordered. Henry only smirked at this and wiggled his fingers really close to his armpit. Michael yelped and developed a wobbly smile with nervous giggles spilling out.

Henry couldn’t stop his evil facade from breaking. He soon dropped his wiggling hand and started laughing. “Ihihi’m nohot even tickling you!” He reacted.

Michael tittered into the side of his closed fist. “Cahahause ihihit’s the suspehehense!” He explained.

“The suspense? For something you told me you wanted?” Henry mentioned. He started wiggling his fingers again and finally touched down on the vulnerable armpit. Michael shrieked like a bat, and completely lost himself in his laughter. “Wow!” Henry reacted. “I don’t mean to sound insulting, but you sound a little like the Joker.” Henry admitted.

“HEHEHEHEY! IHIHIHIHI’M OHOHOFEHEHEHE-”

“Offended? Did I offend the son of a famous killer? Are you gonna vow vengeance on me and get him to kill those who bully you?” Henry teased.

“WHAHAHAHA?! HAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!” Michael shook his head and kicked his feet wildly.

“Oh, you’re not?! Thank goodness! I would’ve been a goner!” Henry teased.

Michael kicking started to reach Henry’s belly and waist, leading Henry to grab his feet. “Hey now! Who told you you could kick me?” Henry asked.

Michael’s laughter fell into giggles once again, mixed with panting. “Sohohohohorryhyhyhyhy.” Michael told him.

“I’ll forgive you, but you gotta promise me-” Henry pulled off his socks, “you’ll never try and kick me again.” he started skittering his fingers onto his foot.

Michael threw his head back and snorted before falling into rapid giggles. “Hehehehehehehenryhyhyhyhyhy! Nahahahahahahaha!”

“Wow! You’re still able to talk after all this? Your lungs must’ve grown extra strong when you died!” Henry teased, giving Michael’s chest a couple pats.

Michael’s giggles paused, and were quickly replaced with coughs. Henry quickly let his foot go, walked up to Michael and patted his back to help him cough it out.

“Ohohow...Ow. I think my lungs are broken.” Michael admitted.

“Was tickling you a little too much?” Henry asked.

Michael shook his head. “No. I needed that. Thank you.”

Henry smiled and fluffed his hair. “You’re welcome.”

Michael’s eyes went cross-eyed when he felt a bunch of his dead hair falling down his face. It felt weird. Henry widened his eyes and looked down at his own hand:

It was completely covered in Michael’s hair.

Henry looked down at his hand, back up at Michael, back at his hand and back up at Michael again. Not sure how to react, Henry rubbed the hair from his hand onto Michael’s chest. Michael laughed at this and just took it. Guess all the zombie jokes can be made. Starting after his drain-clogging bubble bath.

#post sister location #scooped michael #henry emily becomes michael's guardian #ticklefic #ler!henry #lee!michael #blood and gore #graphic depictions of zombifying #angst and hurt/comfort #angst and fluff

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

Just about everyone is back together. There’s only a few minor concerning things happening. I’m sure it’s fine.

@petrichormeraki and @helleborusangel

Bad had taken Grian and Jrum back to Jrum’s section of his house, helping plug the bot into his charger. Grian couldn’t find a chair immediately, so he just quickly built one, leaving Bad blinking in surprise.

“So, I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m Grian, one of Jrum’s dads.” And he held out a hand while fumbling for his comm with the other.

Bad shook Grian’s hand hesitantly. “I’m BadBoyHalo, or just Bad. I adopted Jrum while you weren’t showing up.”

“Yeah, Tommy sent me a message about that earlier.”

“Wait so that really was Tommy we saw earlier? He’s not dead?”

Grian shook his head. “No. He’s been living with us and some friends in a different world for a bit now.”

“Oh… then… he’s not going to like hearing some bad news.”

Grian tilted his head, worried. “Why? What happened?”

“Just after those two showed up,” Bad gestured to Jrum. “A message showed up that Tubbo died and he didn’t respawn.”

Grian leaned back in his chair. “Oh, no he’s alive too. My guess is your admin lied to you so you wouldn’t question his disappearance. Philza and Techno have also been away, so anything you’ve heard about them is probably also false.”

“Wait… so if they haven’t been here, who’s dealing with Ghostbur?”

“Who’s that?”

“Phil’s son Wilbur. He died but came back as a ghost and now he goes by Ghostbur.”

Grian looked down at the ground. “Right… Wil’s dead…”

That took Bad off guard. “Did you two know each other?”

“Yeah. Yeah we did. But I hadn’t seen him in years.” Grian then distracted himself by reading his comm finally. “Well it looks like I’ve missed a lot.”

<MumboJumbo> Found EX. He’s seen both the boys. Jrum’s got a nylium problem and Grum is…

<MumboJumbo> I think I want to throw up.

<Tubbo_> Tommy and I were sort of kidnapped by Dream, and I think he also did something to Ranboo.

<Tubbo_> but we’re out now and have Grum. I’ve also got Michael.

[Eyes] Current X-S, Y-S, Z-S

[Eyes] End X-F, Y-F, Z-F

<EvilXisuma> What do you mean Tommy is with you? He’s with me.

<EvilXisuma> give me an answer!

<Ph1LzA> I found Ranboo, but he’s got no clue what happened.

<Ph1LzA> no sign of Dream either.

<EvilXisuma> fuck

<EvilXisuma> that’s got to be Theseus with Tubbo, and he’s going after Dream to try and revive his version of him.

<Tubbo_> Hi! We’re fine now! Mumbo found us, though uh, Theseus and Dream are gone now.

<EvilXisuma> that’s… mostly okay. Has anyone heard from Grian or that pig guy.

<Grian> hey! I’m here! I found Jrum and he’s doing okay now! Though just to get things out in the open, I do not quite remember how.

<Grian> whatever was possessing him is gone now though. Still trying to deal with the angry parent who adopted him.

<Grian> How’s Tommy doing btw?

<EvilXisuma> he’s still not awake.

<Grian> any chance you can bring him here? I’ve got Jrum charging and I think we should all meet up in one place.

<EvilXisuma> Pretty sure the giant thing in this place is also a charger though.

<Grian> It did sound like the boys were split up, so that makes sense. Can you still come over here?

<EvilXisuma> Fine, but only because you blacked out before

Grian sent his coordinates and then set his comm down. Then he started crying. Jrum’s condition had been bad enough and the fact that he still seemed upset at him without the plants controlling the bot hurt Grian. And then Mumbo’s reaction to just hearing about Grum without seeing him was terrifying. What had they done to his kids?

His wings flared open when a large hand touched him and he glared up to see the blurry form of the demon that was helping him. “Don’t touch me right now.”

“Just trying to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m not. My kids are… they’ve… it just hurts. It’s only been a few days but they’ve been alone for months and I couldn’t do anything! At least when they were stuck where we first built them we could visit, but even with everything I have, I couldn’t get in.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you- Have you ever heard of the Watchers?”

There was a slight hum as Bad thought. “Yes, though I haven’t really looked into them. I just know they’re really powerful and occasionally interact with various worlds.”

“Well, I’m that. And I’ve been trained as an admin. And based on what I have learned in the past few days, my mom is literally death, so that’s fun.”

“Is that related to you being able to kill the egg?”

Grian let out a short laugh. “No. That’s uh, Mother Spore. She tried using my body as a host, I tried killing her, we have a bit of a stalemate now.”

“You’re not going to-”

“It’s fine. It helped, didn’t it?” Grian asked.

Bad nodded, it had indeed ended up helping them. “Just making sure it doesn’t cause more of the same.”

Grian nodded before looking back over to Jrum. He was currently in sleep mode as he charged which was fine, but Grian still wished the bot was awake. His eyes then fell on Jrum’s empty arms. He checked his inventory and was glad to find one of the backups on him, so he pulled out a faux diamond block and carefully put it in Jrum’s arms. The bot stirred slightly, but then hugged the toy when it was in his arms.

“Oh, you have another one of those?”

Grian nodded. “Yeah. Jrum and I were out one day and found a trader selling them. We got eight of them for an emerald and a real diamond block.”

Bad’s eyes widened. “You must really love him if you’d spend that much.”

“It’s not actually that much to me, but I would have gladly spent more if it would make him happy.”

Bad nodded and then went over to a chest and pulled out an identical toy that seemed to have been dyed red. “Here, this is the one he had before. He got upset when it turned red. The egg was able to change blue things red and red things to white.”

Grian nodded and took the toy. “I’m pretty sure I can fix this. Just not until we get back to Hermitcraft. I’m pretty spent right now and still need to get us back home.”

Then Xannes was suddenly in the room holding Tommy in his arms. “Get me somewhere to put him down.” Bad jumped up and grabbed a bed for them to set Tommy down on while Grian started checking Tommy over. He looked mostly uninjured, but he seemed to have a large scar that hadn’t been there before over his stomach area. Grian carefully tested the area and was glad to see he was at least reacting to what was going on, but not in pain from the new injury.

“How’s he doing?” Xannes asked as Grian continued to look Tommy over.

“Well, him still being unconscious is extremely worrying, but I’m not seeing any physical injuries other than this large scar.”

“He got killed and revived. I didn’t get a good look at what happened, but I would assume that scar is from what killed him.”

Grian nodded, then carefully worked on sitting Tommy up. “Any head injuries?”

“He ended up against a wall, could’ve been slammed there.”

“Good to know.” Grian moved Tommy’s hair around to see if he could spot anything that was hidden. “You said revived?”

“We have a three life system here.” Bad spoke up. “If a death is important enough, we lose a life. After we lose all three, we’re dead for good. Though there are exceptions.”

“Yeah, Tommy mentioned those. Took us a while to convince him we didn’t have that.” Grian looked over to Xannes. “How do people normally react when they’re revived?”

“Normally they’ve got ghost pains for a while and are more violent.” The helsmit explained. “But everyone has a different reaction. I’m also not sure how different this is from hels, plus the fact that it was an instant revival.”

“That’s probably it then.” Grian frowned. “Makes me almost consider trying to contact Ellen. But she might not be around anymore…”

“Who?” Xannes asked, but Grian brushed him off.

“Our best bet is to try and kill him again and let him stay dead for a few minutes before reviving him again. I… It’s not the greatest thing in the world, but it… should work. And he should be linked to this bed.”

“Wait, are you just going to kill him again?” Bad asked, making sure he was really understanding the situation. “That seems like it would make it worse!”

“I know! But it’s probably that he died and got revived quickly enough that his mind or soul or whatever you want to call it didn’t catch up.” He then sighed, noticing his hands trembling and trying to calm them down. “I mean, I still can’t be sure… but again, best bet.”

Xannes looked skeptical, but relented. “Fine, but we try this once. Even if it only sort of works, we’re not trying it again.”

Grian nodded. “Alright, so I’ll just step outside while you do that… okay?”

“What, you’re making me do it?”

“You’re the one with evil in your name.”

“My name is Xannes!”

Grian held up his communicator. “Yeah, but it’s evil on here, and you got to choose that for yourself, so don’t complain.”

Xannes grumbled, but accepted the answer as Grian stepped out of the room.

“Grian finally got back to us.” Tubbo told Mumbo since his hands were still full from carrying Grum. “He’s also got Jrum with him and I’m guessing he’s killed the egg.”

“The what?”

“Uh, a plant that was possessing people.”

“Ah, EX did mention that.” Mumbo nodded. “Anything else?”

“Well he says he doesn’t remember how he did it.”

“Ah, have to talk to him about that once we get back home to ask if it was a conscious decision or not.”

“And Michael, someone found Boo and he’s okay.” Tubbo told the ziglin, who oinked happily. He then read more and looked back to Mumbo. “Still nothing from Techno though, but Grian wants us to meet up with him at some coordinates. Xannes and Tommy seem to have already moved there.”

Mumbo nodded, pausing to heft Grum up a little to readjust his grip on them. “Which way is it from here?”

“It’s on our current path. Closer actually. That’s the location of Bad and Skeppy’s mansion. Technically the house you had us going towards would have been closer, but only because of the trident path.”

“That makes sense.” Mumbo nodded, before noticing something in the distance. “What’s that?”

Tubbo squinted to make it out at first, but then it was obvious what it was to him. “Pandora’s Vault. It’s a prison Dream commissioned. So far it hasn’t been used as far as I’m aware, but obviously a lot has happened, so I’m not sure anymore.”

Mumbo nodded. If there weren’t more pressing matters at hand, he would be curious, since Tommy had said large builds such as that weren’t common on the server if they existed at all. He was still staring at it when Grumbot suddenly stiffened up and he nearly dropped the bot in shock.

Life Counter active. Entity Check TommyInnit. Death: canon. Life counter: Infinite lives remaining. Commence Respawn.

Just as soon as it had happened, Grumbot was back to normal, though trembling again. Mumbo hugged the bot just a little tighter for a moment before looking at Tubbo. “Are you sure there’s not a faster way?”

“The only other option is still boats.”

Mumbo looked down at Grumbot. There was no way for the four of them to all sit in one boat. He couldn’t row since he needed to make sure nothing happened to Grumbot and obviously the robot wasn’t in any condition to row instead. Theoretically they could manage to get the two of them and Tubbo into the boat if Mumbo scrunched up and continued to hold Grumbot in his lap, but that would involve leaving Michael behind since the child couldn’t row a boat on his own.

“Right, okay. Still walking.”

The group continued to travel, Mumbo and Michael both getting spooked by suddenly getting mining fatigue as they got too close to the prison. There was a small river which they were able to cross easily, but a second wider river had them pause as Tubbo built them a bridge. “The mansion is essentially right on the other side of this river. We’ll just be passing the entrance to the prison first.”

“Is it that place made of quartz in the distance?”

“Yeah.” Tubbo answered, before getting a second look at it. “Looks like they got an extension built onto it though. So that’s new.”

“Might be where the others are. You said they were charging Jrum. I saw the one charger in the other house and it had to be built pretty big. That might be where it’s housed.”

Xannes came out in a few minutes to bring Grian back into the room. “I didn’t need to revive him. He respawned naturally, which isn’t a good sign. Because of that, nothing’s changed.”

“A-Are you sure? Nothing at all?”

Xannes rolled his eyes but did his best to keep Grian from spiralling. “Yeah, but that’s just from trying this. We’re still waiting on the others to show up and they should be able to come up with other ideas.”

“R-Right… I guess you’re right.” Grian nodded before going back to his chair.

Bad moved closer to Xannes and whispered to him. “I’m guessing he’s close with Tommy?”

“Obnoxiously so. I’ve heard a number of stories from Jrum about Grian and Tommy doing something together. Honestly not sure how they didn’t realize they were related in the first place.”

“What the muffin?!”

“...Did… Did you just use the word ‘muffin’ as a curse?”

“Maybe I did! Now what do you-” Bad cut himself off to go back to a whisper. “What do you mean they’re related?”

“The two of them are brothers. Not sure the current state in this dimension, but as far as I know, Grian’s a triplet and Tommy’s younger brother to the three. Same parents too.”

“Tommy’s mom is also a fridge?”

This time it was Xannes’ turn to be shocked. “Their mother is a what here?!”

Before much else could be clarified, there was a whine as Jrum woke up. “Stop yellinggggg. I’m sleepyyyy!”

“Jrum! You know that’s no way to act when guests are over.” Bad scolded, but Grian stopped him.

“Let him sleep. Charging in the middle of the day always messes with his sleep schedule.” Then Grian pulled out a certain shiny blue rock. “Besides, it just means he won’t get any diamonds.”

Immediately Jrum was fully awake and jumping off the bed to grab the diamond out of Grian’s hand. “Give give give give give!!!” Grian tried to hold the diamond up in the air, but Jrum just started climbing up him like he was a tree.

“Calm down! I’m not- mmph! Don’t step on my face! Okay fine! Take it!” Grian gave the diamond to Jrum who instantly put it into his inventory. “I’ve never seen that before.”

Now that the diamond was safely in his possession, Jrum realized exactly who was there and went back to his bed with a slight angry frown. “Well what do you expect when you just offer him up a diamond like that?” Bad asked, going over and patting Jrum’s head comfortingly.

“For him to wake up for it. I mean, he did, but the climbing and being very grabby is different.”

“Again, you offered up a diamond. To Jrum. He’s got a love for diamonds that could rival just about anyone. More than once he killed someone just because they hadn’t put their diamonds in their ender chest quite yet so he took them.”

“Jrum!” Grian scolded the bot, who just got angrier.

“Why do you care? You weren’t here.”

“Jrum, I swear we were doing everything we could to find you and Grum. Your daddy and I would never want to lose you. Some bad people just made things really hard for us. But once we could come to find you, so many people wanted to help because they know how much your daddy and I love you and how much you mean to us.”

“But why’d it take so long?! You should’ve figured it out sooner!”

“Well, you know the stories I’ve told you about my time machine, right?” Grian asked, Bad looking over to Xannes and mouthing the words as a question for clarification. “Well, it was like someone took this whole world and put it in the time machine, so that way everything seemed so much longer for you.”

“Well that’s stupid.”

“It is! But now we’re here. And I know you’re upset. You’re upset like I was at your grandpa.”

And that was what got through to Jrum. Back before any of this had happened, when Phil had first arrived and Grian had been upset at the older avian, Jrum was worried about ending up the same way with his dads. He didn’t want that to happen, but now it was starting to. He started crying and mumbling out apologies, but Grian just hugged the bot and rocked him. “It’s okay. You don’t have anything you need to say sorry for. It was scary and we weren’t there. But it’s okay now. It’s okay.”

The door opened up with a slight slam, making everyone there jump. “Oh thank goodness, you’re all here. Along with… a very tall… man?” Mumbo questioned, his previous train of thought already out the window.

“Demon actually.”

“Alright. Now what was I going to say?”

Tubbo poked his head out from behind Mumbo. “We’re back with Grum.”

“Right! Yes that was it!”

“I’ll get another bed.” Bad said, leaving the room to find one. While they waited, Grian and Mumbo met eyes and smiled sadly at each other, glad that at the very least they had their boys back.

“How’s Jrum doing?”

“Okay. Just upset that he was so angry at us.” Grian answered, rubbing the bot’s back for some comfort. “What about Grum?”

Mumbo frowned and looked down at the bot in his arms. “Not good. He’s a mess to the point I’m worried we’d have to…” He trailed off, not wanting to complete the sentence. “The admin ended up abusing the fact that he was a robot, barely treated him like a person. God… he’s in such disrepair just physically, and while Tubbo said he was speaking earlier, he hasn’t said a word since I’ve seen him.”

“Well, maybe once he wakes up, he-” Grian started to suggest, but Mumbo cut him off.”

“No, Grian, he’s been awake the whole trip here.”

Grian’s eyes widened and he shifted to calmly speak to Jrum. “Can I set you down so I can look at your brother?” Jrum shook his head and held Grian tighter. “Alright then.” Part of Grin wanted to push to get Jrum to say yes, but he also knew that that could just find a way to make things worse.

Bad finally returned with a bed and put it down between the two already existing beds. Mumbo tried to put Grumbot down, but the robot refused to let go and they ended up needing to pry it off of the redstoner. They nearly stopped trying when it was enough to get Grum talking, it simply saying ‘no’ a number of times. But still, they needed to get a good look at Grum, and being held in Mumbo’s arms wouldn’t help with that.

For the most part, Grumbot was still the same as when Tubbo had found it. The only difference was the screen flickering back and forth between the one it had been stuck with and its regular face. Also, instead of lying down on the bed normally, the moment Grumbot was on the bed, it curled up into a ball.

It hurt Grian to see his son in such a state. He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until Mumbo was next to him taking deep breaths for him to follow with. He slowly helped Grian lie down on the bed with Jrum, obvious to the fact that the avian needed rest with everything going on around him.

Xannes pulled Tubbo out of the room at one point, and when they returned, the two of them were accompanied by Phil and Ranboo who talked in hushed tones. When Grian had finally gotten to sleep, Mumbo took Jrum into his arms to discuss things with everyone else.

Tommy pressed his hands against his closed eyes. He hated how sore he felt, but he supposed that’s what happened when you get your last life taken. Then he paused. If he lost his last life, was he alive? Tommy pulled his hands away and opened his eyes. He didn’t look see through, but his skin definitely wasn’t supposed to be ash gray.

He cursed and got out of his bed, looking around. That was his bed, but not from the SMP. The wood around him was all from Grian’s old hobbit hole, and the last place he had slept before… well before everything happened.

Tommy started looking through chests, glad to find a spare comm in one of the chests. He turned it on and was glad to see it was one of the backups X had made him after the first time he managed to break one. He hadn’t wanted to accept it at first, but apparently a number of the hermits lost or broke their communicators a lot, so he was more willing to take one.

<TommyInnit> Alright, hey guys. Guess who is having a crisis

<TommyInnit> btw, how long has it been since I left?

<GoodtimeswithScar> What seems to be the problem?

<Xisuma> Not that long. Definitely under half an hour.

<TommyInnit> I think I’m dead.

<TommyInnit> I died in the smp and I guess I lost my last life, but I respawned here

<Iskall85> Okay, and?

<TommyInnit> Well I didn’t respawn right. I look like I came out of some of those photos Grian had of demise.

<Rendog> black and white?

<TommyInnit> Skin yes, clothes no. blood is currently blue.

<Xisuma> I’m on my way over

<StressMonster> Does it hurt?

<TommyInnit> I mean, I’m sore? But not really. It’s not raining, right?

<joehillssays> nah, you’ll be fine Tommy

<TommyInnit> Okay.

<TommyInnit> panickign more now

<TommyInnit> i cna;t fucking get outside

<ZombieCleo> Someone blocked the door?

<TommyInnit> np. Nothing theere.

Tommy had tried going outside, but ended up running into something invisible. He tested it and found it was just a sort of invisible wall in front of the door. He remembered Xannes making something similar to trap dream in, so for a moment he thought it was the helsmit's doing. So Tommy broke a hole into the wall and tried going through that. But he just ran into another invisible wall. Had it been just outside where he mined, he would just be upset, but this time it was right in the space where he mined. He tried not to panic too much, but it was hard not to.

<TommyInnit> i’m jus stuck

<TommyInnit> help

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #grian #watcher!grian #grian xelqua #avian!Grian #badboyhalo #jrumbot #evil xisuma #tommyinnit #mumbo jumbo #grumbot #tubbo #michael_beloved #ghostinnit

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cals-sunflower · 4 years

Text

road trip confessions (c.h)

summary: feelings are the best when it’s reciprocated back.

it was around 12 pm when you walked through the door of calum’s home. as soon as you closed the door, you took off your boots revealing your cherry printed socks. “cal where are you?” you yelled out to him. duke heard your voice and ran over to greet you. you then picked him up laying small kisses on his fur.

“oh hi baby! i missed you so much,” you mumbled to him and smiled while sitting him back on the floor. “wow sometimes i think you love my dog more than you love me,” calum walks from out of the kitchen with wide arms ready for a hug. of course, you pull him into a warm embrace.

“well duke is just about the cutest dog ever besides petunia, southy, and moose but you’re pretty okay,” you joked pushing his shoulder. he leads you guys to sit on the couch and pulled your legs into lap like he always does. “so no i missed you for me,” he pouts like a child making you smile. “obviously i missed my favorite aussie, the last time i seen you was literally like three months ago before quarantine,” you leaned forward to bring a hand to rub his cheek. it was really no secret to anyone that you guys were always touchy-feely with each other. wether calum had his hand on the small of your back or you intertwining his hand with yours. everyone knew you guys had feelings for each other but you two.

“and now i feel better, thank you for that,” he kissed the palm of your hand before you let go of his face. calum feels his phone vibrate next to him, so he looks down and sees it a zoom call link that ashton sent to the group chat. “who was that?” you asked him. “ashton sent a zoom call link to the group chat,” he replied quickly. he does know facetime is a thing, right?” you furrowed your brows. Cal shrugged his shoulders grabbing your hand to pull you into his office where his computer was.

calum typed in the zoom code and password waiting for the video to pop up. “hey guys,” an overly excited ashton says while everyone else said their hellos. “so ash what’s this all about?” you questioned the need for a zoom call.

“we should go on a road trip!”

“ashton you know there’s a lot of us. how are we all gonna fit?” michael pointed out the obvious. “well we could get one of those rvs. plus It’s only me, kaykay, luke, sierra, you, crystal, y/n and cal. i think we could make it.”

“wait that sounds so fun! we haven’t hung out together in like forever,” crystal states. “yeah let’s do it,” you shrugged your shoulders with a smile.

“great pack something to swim in.”

the very next day ashton came over to pick you since you were the last one they had to get. you put your bag into the rv and walked inside.

“there are you babe! i missed you so much,” sierra pulls you into a tight embrace and you reciprocated. “i missed you too si and of course i missed the all of you guys!” you make your rounds hugging everyone else and pet all of the dogs that where laying down. then you place yourself next to calum meanwhile ashton starts driving to whatever he’s planning on heading to.

“you look really pretty today,” you turn your head towards calum and gave him a smile. “even in my sweatpants?”

“technically they’re my sweatpants you thief but yeah you look great in anything,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. “you guys are so cute it’s literally sickening,” luke fakes a barf sound making you laugh.

“anyways, ash where are we going?” michael takes a glance away from his phone to look at ashton. “we’re going to this waterfall and i-“

“A WATERFALL? oh my gosh i’ve been dying to go to one but nobody would take me,” you clapped with a bright smile on your face. “excuse me ma’am, i believe i was talking,” he laughs to himself, “how come you never asked cal to take you?”

“oh i didn’t think he’d be into that,” calum looked at you as if he was partly offended. “hey, you know i’d take you anywhere. only one phone call away babe,” he would’ve taken you to the moon if you asked him to.

“i’ll hold you to that.”

everyone was quick to change into their swim wear, ready to get out and see the sights. the sun was blazing with the perfect amount of warmth, definitely the best day to go out. you stop to take in where you’re at. it was gorgeous and you didn’t ever want to forget this moment.

“c’mon love, everyone is already in the water,” calum tugged lightly on your hand to gain your attention agin. “where’s your head at?”

“huh, sorry i was just taking in the view. it’s really pretty.”

“yeah, the view is really pretty but i think you’re prettier,” you hide your face into your free hand laughing at his cheesy comment, “no, don’t hide your face now sweetheart. you should be told everyday you’re gorgeous.”

“calum, stop being a flirt and get your asses here!” you guys laughed at ashton yelling even though there were people that turned and looked at him.

“let’s race?”

“oh you’re on princess,” you take off running but it didn’t help seeing as he was right behind you. he eventually jumped in the water first and you couldn’t help but to stare at his tanned chest decorated in his tattoos.

“see something you like?” you scoffed shaking your head, “you wish hood.”

“you’re not wrong, come in the water babe,” you put your hand in his and he pulled you in. you realized your faces were closer now, the built up tension was real.

“hi.”

“hi gorgeous,” calum holds your face in his palm letting his thumb brush over your cheek. “are we on the mutual feeling right now or am i over thinking this?”

“I have been in love with you since we had that movie night at ashton’s house a year ago. remember? it was on halloween and we were watching scary movies. you cuddled up against me and i knew then that i didn’t want anyone else in my arms but you.”

“cal, stop it you’re gonna make me cry. i’m in love with you too but i don’t remember when i actually fell in love with you, sorry,” you pouted making him laugh. “hey no, don’t apologize babe there’s nothing to apologize for. my dream girl just told me she loved me back!”

“kiss her you idiot!”

calum smiles before bringing in your face closer and connected his lips to yours. you felt it all, the butterflies, the fireworks and everything in between. since sierra wasn’t in the water yet, she took her phone and captured the moment for you guys. there was a little rainbow in the back, the waterfall and you guys sharing your first kiss with each other. pulling away you smiled at him.

“if you’ve been in love with me since last year, why haven’t you said anything to me?”

“why haven’t you said anything to me?”

“don’t be a smartass calum.”

“i’m kidding y/n, i love you.”

“i love you too babe. now, i believe we have to go to our friends,” he tightens his grip on your waist, “do we really have to do that? i like keep you to myself.”

“you’re so possessive already huh?”

“only for you sugar,” he winks at you and places a kiss on your forehead.

#calum hood #5sos imagines #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagines #calum hood x reader

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morningfears · 5 years

Text

Bell

Rating: M | This is [kind of] smut.

Summary: “I was wondering if you could do a blurb of tattoo artist!calum where the reader is the sister of one of the other guys and comes into his shop to get her nipples pierced and they both get really flustered and you can figure out how it ends. Thank you sweets ❤️❤️” for anon | ft. Tattoo Artist!Calum, brother!Ashton, pining.

Word Count: 2.3k (...I know. I know.)

The bell above the shop door rang, signaling a client’s entrance, but Calum paid it no mind as he focused on the sketchbook laid open in front of him. He’d finished his appointments for the day, his last client had left less than thirty minutes earlier, and he had no intention of taking on a walk-in when the shop was only open for another fifteen minutes. He was content with letting Max, the shop’s new apprentice, deal with any annoyance that refusal would cause and turned the volume in his headphones up just a little higher as he continued working.

He remained lost in his work, his hand moving steadily over the sketch pad as he shaded in a piece unrelated to his work, and had nearly forgotten he’d even heard the bell chime when a hand touched his shoulder and sent his pencil skidding across the page as he jerked in surprise. “Fuck,” he groaned, both in surprise and annoyance, as he stared at the errant mark for a moment before he pulled his headphones off and turned on his stool to face the culprit. However, much to his surprise it was neither Max nor a persistent client.

It was you.

Standing before him was his best friend Ashton’s younger sister. You looked remorseful as you stared at the obvious mistake on his sketchpad. “I’m sorry, Cal,” you apologized, your eyebrows furrowing and your lips curving into a frown as you turned her gaze to his face, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Much to Calum’s chagrin, every ounce of annoyance he’d felt at both being interrupted and making a mistake disappeared the moment he laid eyes on you. You had a way of making him forget himself, of making him lose his train of thought, and it had been like that from the start. He had never been able to be annoyed with you, regardless of how badly he wished he could, and it drove him crazy. So, instead of telling you to fuck off like he would have Max, he shook his head and reached for the eraser he kept on his desk.

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled, his voice quiet as he carefully worked to erase the mark and diminish its obviousness, “it’s not inked yet.” You were quiet as he brushed at the eraser shavings, watching him fix what he could, and likely would’ve remained silent had he not asked, “What are you doing here? Ash left a few hours ago.”

“Oh, I know,” you told him as you grabbed one of the stools from a different station and took a seat. “I’m not here for him. I’m here for you.”

At that, Calum turned his attention away from the sketch completely and turned to face you. He stared at you, the confusion clear on his face as he studied you, and raised an eyebrow at your statement. “Me? You didn’t break anything else, did you?” You lived with your brother - something you’d both decided was your best option as you had had nothing but a string of bad luck when other roommates were concerned - and had come to Calum once before for help after your broke a music box that Ashton had found in an antique shop and loved more than anything.

At that, you rolled your eyes and shook your head. “No, not this time,” you denied as you twisted in your seat, a mild look of discomfort on your face as you averted your gaze and stared at the wall behind Calum’s head, “I have a different kind of favor to ask of you.”

“I feel like I’m going to regret this,” Calum mumbled, more to himself than to you, “but go for it.”

Calum watched as you shifted in your chair, your foot tapping against the black and white checked floor, and felt himself grow slightly uneasy as he waited for you to share your request. He knew that you would never ask him to do anything that would get him into trouble, you would never ask him for anything that would hurt Ashton, so your hesitation felt strange. However, it was explained as you blurted, “I want you to pierce my nipples.”

Calum blinked at you, surprised by your request, and opened his mouth to speak before promptly closing it. He wasn’t sure how to respond to the request. On one hand, piercing was something that fell under his job description and piercing nipples was, while not the most common piercing he did, something he did often enough. On the other, the person asking him to pierce them was his best friend’s sister.

Ashton was, admittedly, a little overprotective. Despite only being two years older than you, Ashton felt that it was his duty to protect you from the dangers of the world and freely admitted that sometimes his rationality was lost in that pursuit. One of the first rules he’d laid down when you moved in with him and began spending more time around the guys was that none of them were allowed, under any circumstance, to pursue you romantically. And though piercing you was in no way romantic, it would only further weaken Calum’s resolve and push him closer to crossing a line he knew he shouldn’t.

And, though he hated to admit it, Calum had dreamt of you in ways that he knew he shouldn’t. Seeing you topless would only exacerbate those dreams and the feelings he’d been harboring for you. So, he refused you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he answered after too long a silence. “But I can recommend someone. She’s good. She pierced Luke and Michael and they liked her.”

“Um, if you’re talking about Sam, I can’t go to her,” you informed him with an awkward smile as you continued fidgeting in your chair. “She pierced my nose and she, like, put her hand on my neck to steady herself and I kind of moaned and I’m so embarrassed that I can never look at her again. And out of everyone, you’re the person I trust the most. So, please?”

Calum’s mind reeled with the information you’d provided him - and the mental image that came along with it - but he did his best to push all those thoughts to the side as he shook his head. “I don’t particularly feel like dying any time soon,” he reasoned as he breathed a sigh and closed his sketchbook. “There are plenty of qualified piercers in the city. I’ll help you find someone else.”

“Come on, Cal,” you whined as you rolled your stool across the short distance and bumped your knee against his, “please? It’s literally your job. I’m going to pay you. And Ash doesn’t need to know! It’s not like I’m going to go home and be, like, ‘Hey, guess what I did today? Got my nipples pierced. Oh, by the way, your best friend is the one who did it. It was fun. What did you do today?’ No, fuck that.” Calum watched as you grimaced at the mental image of telling Ashton what you’d done with your day and realized that you had a point. He knew that you weren’t going to relent, not when this was something you clearly wanted, but he let you continue as you said, “He won’t know. Just, please?”

Although Calum liked to think he had decent willpower, he was weak when it came to you. It took very little pressing for him to agree to pierce you and, when the front door was locked and Max was gone for the night, he guided you through the shop and into the back room where he hoped you wouldn’t feel so exposed.

Though Calum had pierced more than his fair share of nipples, it was different with you. You were someone he saw on a regular, almost daily, basis and someone that he’d wanted to be more than friends with for nearly a year. He liked to think that he was a professional, that he could put his feelings aside and give you the piercing you’d requested, but the moment you tugged your shirt up and over your head, leaving you standing in just a black lace bra in front of him, he felt his cheeks heat and his heart begin to race.

You, too, felt the implications of your actions as you dropped your t-shirt onto the counter and reached for the hooks on the back of your bra. Calum’s crush was not unrequited, though you were half certain he would never try anything for fear of upsetting Ashton, and you realized just how much he would be seeing as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

“I, um… this is,” Calum paused, unsure of what he wanted to say, and shook his head as he reached for the box of gloves. “Fuck, okay. Um, you can take your bra off and have a seat.”

Calum looked and sounded just as flustered as you felt. It was no secret to anyone - other than Ashton who Calum believed remained consciously oblivious - how the pair of you felt about one another. He refused to look at you as you pulled the bra from your body and dropped it onto the pile with your shirt. It took a moment for him to gather himself enough to turn and glance at you, his eyes going to your face before they dropped to your chest, and you appreciated the brief moment of respite as you waited for him to begin.

It felt strange, having Calum’s hands on your body, but you quickly adjusted to the heat of his palms as he marked where the barbells would go. He spent a moment ensuring they were even, although it pained both of you to have his face so close to your chest, before he moved away and reached for the needle. “Alright,” he sighed as he returned one hand to your ribcage and braced himself, “you ready?”

You found yourself unable to speak as Calum sat so close to you, your chest on display and your heart beating wildly. You knew that he could feel your racing pulse, that he could see the effect he was having on you, but you said nothing to encourage or deter him from acting in any way other than professionally. Although your mind raced with fantasies of him leaving marks along your skin, of his lips brushing your nipples and lavishing your breasts with attention as he kissed his way down your torso, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable and you knew that if you opened your mouth, a moan would likely slip free. So, you simply nodded your head and waited for him to begin.

Calum himself was having a hard time concentrating. He wanted nothing more than to touch you in the way he’d dreamt of, in the way that he’d imagined several times before, but you were trusting him to provide you with a service, not ogle you, so he tried his hardest to keep his fantasies under wraps as he pierced your right nipple. The sharp intake of breath, the way your hand moved to his shoulder and pressed him just a little closer, made his heart race and his mind move in a million different directions. He’d pieced two and two together, imagined that pain was something you liked, but feeling your nails dig into his shoulder for a brief second before you pulled yourself together was all the confirmation he needed and it sent a rush of blood to his cock as he willed himself to focus on threading the silver barbell through your nipple.

The second nipple passed much like the first, with a sharp gasp and the stinging dig of your nails into his shoulder, but Calum didn’t mind. If anything, he wished the moment would last forever as you shifted in front of him and squeezed your thighs in search of relief. It took every ounce of willpower he had to pull away from you, to keep from doing something he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stop, and he noticed the almost disappointed look on your face as he averted his gaze and nodded.

“I, uh, that’s… they look good. You should keep an eye on them. You know how to take care of piercings so be mindful of them. If you have any questions, you know where to find me,” Calum told you as he tossed his gloves into the trash and kept his eyes on the wall, waiting for you to pull your t-shirt back on.

Though you’d felt as if he would finally make a move for a brief moment, it was over just as quickly as it had begun. Instead, Calum was keeping you at arms length, as he had for so long now, and you breathed a quiet sigh as you tugged on your t-shirt. “Yeah,” you nodded as you slipped your jacket on over top and shoved your bra into your purse. “Thanks, Cal. I appreciate it,” you told him as you decided to be bold, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you,” Calum nodded, his own disappointment filling him as he watched you step through the door with a final glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips. He felt a flurry of emotions - disappointment, sadness, excitement, lust, longing - and each of them hit him harder than the last.

____________________________________

Author’s Note: I know these were supposed to be drabbles. I’m very much aware of that, thank you. This, for this concept, is a drabble. If I’d gone full fic, it likely would’ve ended up 5-8k. Anyway.

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spaceskam · 4 years

Note

For the fanfic mash-up thing: how about 10 and 72 for Malex?

this prompt is literally like a year old whoop. from this prompt list

10. airport/travel au & 72. stranded on a desert island

warnings: plane crash, anxiety, injury, open ending

ao3

Michael Guerin hated planes.

He spent most of his life avoiding them which was easy. His childhood rendered them virtually nonexistent and his adulthood had always carried the excuse of poverty. It worked out. Until now when he found himself five seconds away from throwing up on his ex-something as they waited to board the plane.

“Are you sure you don’t want to even half of one?” Alex asked. He’d basically been trying to feed Michael his anxiety meds from the moment he realized Michael was nervous. It was painfully attractive and annoying of him to try to take care of him like that.

“You need them more than me, that’s why they’re prescribed to you,” Michael argued.

“You’re going to have a full blown panic attack if you don’t calm down,” Alex said, “Why didn’t you tell Isobel you were scared of planets?”

“And ruin her dream destination wedding that she can finally have because it’s her second one and she doesn’t need to have everyone come out, just the ‘nearest-and-dearest’, and that your brother took off of work for, and that you pulled strings to get me a last minute passport for? Absolutely not,” Michael said. He didn’t have to look at Alex to know he was rolling his eyes.

“You might ruin it anyway if you show up having a full blown breakdown,” Alex said.

“Shut up, I’m fine. I am perfectly and entirely fine,” Michael said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t need your help.”

“Okay,” Alex sighed.

And he was able to pretend that that was the truth until they called for them to board the plane.

Michael was shaking and sweating and already looking for exits. He didn’t know why he was so fucking scared. Nothing bad was going to happen. The plane was going to land and he was going to be absolutely fine. Fine, fine, fine.

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, buckling himself in immediately and identifying the little oxygen mask. Alex sat on the side near the aisle and Michael sat by the window. He didn’t look out of it though, instead choosing to look straight ahead.

Isobel was already there, ready to have her lovely wedding to Gregory in Cabo and Michael was going to be there if it killed him. Max and Liz were flying there from California and that was their wedding party. It was small and just about immediate family. And Michael was going to be there.

The plane started to move and Michael was gripping the arm rests like it was the only thing saving him. He hated this. All the way up until Alex reached over and laid his hand on top of Michael’s. He fiddled with it until he locked their fingers and squeezed.

“You can crush my hand, it won’t hurt me,” Alex promised him. And if it were any other situation, Michael would’ve sat there and let himself overthink every tiny thing about the fact that Alex was holding his hand. However, he was way too scared for all that and just squeezed and ignored Alex’s soft laughter.

Even after the plane took off, Michael didn’t let go. He clutched Alex’s hand until his started to cramp up and then he powered through the cramps to keep holding onto it. He just stared forward and tried to will away the bad feelings.

And it was all full and games until the plane shook.

“It’s just turbulence,” Alex said, voice soft and promising. Michael swallowed harshly.

“You promise?”

“Yeah, it’s normal.”

But then it happened again and worse.

Alex didn’t say anything that time, just rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of his hand as the flight attendant asked everyone to put their seat belts back on. There was rough winds, they said. Michael swallowed harshly.

“It’s okay,” Alex said, giving his hand a little squeeze.

Except it wasn’t okay.

Things started to move too fast, the plane was shaking and waving through the air. People were screaming, the flight attendant requested they put on their oxygen masks. And Michael knew this was going to happen. Bad, bad, bad.

Alex held onto him and stayed completely stoic. Michael almost felt guilty about that. He was staying calm because he wanted Michael to stay calm. He should get to freak out too, right?

Then they were going down.

Michael Guerin hated planes.

And now, in the middle of the woods, with the plane suspended amongst trees in the middle of nowhere surrounded by people screaming and hurt and dying and dead, he felt like he had a completely valid reason to hate them. He hated them more than anything in the entire world. Higher than Jesse Manes and snakes.

With a little unconventional use of his power, Michael had gotten himself and Alex safely to the ground. Sort of safely. There was a doctor on board and a couple other soldiers assessing everyone and trying to help them, triage them. Michael didn’t feel bad putting his full focus onto Alex.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Alex breathed, eyes closed as he laid on the ground. Somewhere during the plane going down and him trying to keep Michael calm, he’d taken a dislodged tray to the thigh. It was stuck in him and he was still trying to act calm.

“Alex,” Michael breathed. He’d thrown away his panic for the time being. He was still a little shaky, but he had his priority set on this man as it always should’ve been. “Alex, hey, I’m gonna get it out.”

“What? No, no, don’t do that,” Alex said, shaking his head. His hair was matted to his forehead and he was pale and he was bleeding and this was unfair. “Could make it worse.”

“No, look, I’ll make a tourniquet,” Michael said, already ripping his shirt to tie around his thigh.

“No,” Alex said, shaking his head and pushing at his shoulder, “No.”

“Alex,” Michael said a little desperately, “I need to get it out so I can try to heal you.” That got his attention.

“What? No, no. No, no, no. There’s people.”

“I don’t fucking care, Alex, you’re hurt!” he argued. Alex shook his head.

Alex was able to keep his stoic composure up until he tried to move a little to show he was fine. He let out an involuntary groan of pain and then gasped as it moved another way. A few heavy breaths later, Alex nodded.

“Okay, heal it,” he whispered. Michael nodded and immediately tied the fabric around his thigh and went to remove the tray. He moved slow and Alex did his best to stay calm. He had to admit, it was impressive how calm he stayed.

Blood gushed as the tray was removed and Michael hated it. He immediately covered it with his hand and was preparing to try his damnedest to heal him. Alex grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait,” he said, "Wait.”

“What?”

“Just, wait,” Alex said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, “If you do this, will you be able to feel my feelings?”

“Only if you want me to,” Michael assured him. That was, at least, what Max had said. “But I can’t promise you won’t be able to feel mine even when I don’t want you to. So, if you’re, like suddenly in love with me after this, don’t trust it.”

Alex gave a breathy laugh, squeezing his shoulder before he moved his hand to his jaw. “I’m already there, I’ll let you know if I feel anymore.”

“Okay,” Michael said, taking a deep breath as he pressed his hand over the wound. He felt like that just added fuel to the fire already brewing in him. “Okay, thank you.”

He’d been practicing for awhile now with Isobel and Max and he’d been getting pretty good at it. The main problem was that he usually didn’t do it when he was this stressed out. Alex was hurt. Actually hurt. He could’ve died. And they hand’t even fixed their bullshit yet.

It took a few seconds, long seconds, almost a minute, but eventually his mind swirled and blurred and he slowly pieced Alex back together from the inside out. He didn’t scream, not wanting to draw any attention to himself, just fed on Alex and the fact that he loved him more than anything.

After draining himself into Alex, he tipped forward a little and caught himself on the ground. So he sat there on all fours over Alex’s lap and just breathed and tried not to focus on the fact that this was bad. Alex getting hurt was just the tip of the iceberg. There were in the middle of nowhere after a fucking plane crash and Isobel’s wedding was still happening.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked.

“Are you?” Michael asked right back. Neither of them really gave appropriate answers.

Alex swallowed and grabbed his head, pulling him into his chest. Michael let himself fall and breath him in.

They were going to be okay.

There weren’t any other options.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

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allsassnoclass · 4 years

Text

my only weakness (you know all my secrets)

I have had the great fortune to participate in @ashesonthefloor‘s Halloween fic event this year! Honestly it was a blast and I’m super excited to see everyone else’s creations!

Event Masterlist

For this event, we all were assigned a pairing, then got to choose from a list of prompts. My prompt was as follows: “You’ve told me three separate times now you have a vampire kink and I’m starting to wonder if you know I’m a vampire.” Or, pretty explanatory. One person is a vampire. The other has a vampire “kink”. (Can also be them saying they like the aesthetic, or trying to hint that they know and don’t mind. Literally do what you want with it) I strayed a little bit, but the prompt idea is still there! Hope you enjoy!

Michael is having a hard time figuring out if the amount of vampire jokes and references is due to Ashton knowing his deepest, darkest secret, or if that's just his sense of humor.

Read on ao3

The first time it happens, they’re heading to their first date.

Michael hasn’t really dated anyone since the 90s, because dating is complicated. He doesn’t age. He can’t eat regular food. Going out in the sun is dicy at best and results in extremely painful sunburn at worst. He shows up in most mirrors now, because they rarely have silver backing anymore, but pictures are a no-go because his eyes cause a lens flare.

The last person he went on an actual date with was Calum, because they’ve been friends for centuries and figured they might as well give it a go. Michael wishes they could have worked, but it took some making out before they both agreed that, as much as they love each other, it’s all platonic. The date itself was fun, but there were no romantic butterflies to be found. Michael has seen Calum naked many times before, and while he can appreciate a handsome man, when it’s Calum it does nothing for him.

Ashton is very handsome. He’s also funny, and passionate, and he’s got more than enough snark to speak Michael’s language. He’s got tenacity and determination, and for some reason part of that determination got directed towards getting Michael on a date with him.

He didn’t have to work very hard. Michael said yes at the first opportunity.

For the first date, Ashton asked if he could pick him up, so Michael waits nervously in his living room, listening to his grandfather clock ticking. (He’s had it since 1733. It was made specifically for him by the clockmaker, a parting gift because if Michael stayed in the area for too much longer, his lack of ageing would get suspicious.)

(This is such a bad idea. Even if this date goes well, Michael can’t be in a relationship with a human for very long before his secret will slip.)

His phone vibrates with a message, and he nearly jumps out of his skin before he realizes that it’s just Calum, not Ashton about to cancel or spring a sudden change of plans.

Cal: have fun on your date ;) wow him with your Biting sense of humor

Michael: i hate you the puns got old centuries ago

Cal: you love them

Michael’s doorbell rings, startling him enough that he fumbles his phone and effectively cutting off any sort of argument he may have started to get into. Michael stands from the couch, takes a deep breath, and answers the door.

Ashton looks really fucking good. Michael has only really seen him in their work clothes, when Ashton is writing up articles about the local music scene and Michael is busy approving things to put on the website, but he dresses up very nicely. His hair is artfully tousled in a way Michael knows must take a little bit of time, and Michael thinks there might be just a hint of glitter under his eyes that would make his heart palpitate if it still did stuff like that. His shirt is short sleeved, showing off his arms nicely, and there are roses printed against the white fabric that match the ones in the bouquet in his hands.

Michael doesn’t know the last time someone gave him flowers.

“Hi,” Ashton says. “You look amazing.”

Michael feels like he’s underdressed now. He’s got on a black long sleeve, because the sun hasn’t fully set yet and he’s trying to cover as much skin as possible, and a pair of black jeans. It’s a nicer shirt of his, something name brand that he can afford due to decades of saving here and there, but he’s well aware that his overall style leans more casual than dressy.

“Thanks,” he says. “You look absolutely fantastic.”

Ashton glances down and smiles, pleased. Michael likes that he can make him react like that.

“I got you flowers,” Ashton says. “I hope you aren’t allergic. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I’d feel silly.”

“I’m not,” Michael smiles, taking them from him. There are a few sprigs of lily of the valley tucked in amongst the roses and ferns, and he takes a deep inhale. He loves the sweet scent of roses and how lively fresh flowers can appear to be even when they’re dying. Maybe it’s self-centered, but he likes to think there are some similarities between him and the plants. They’re not alive anymore, but they’re still going, and they can still bring people a little bit of joy for a few impermanent moments before moving on.

“I’ll put these in some water. You can step in for a second, if you want.”

He had excessively cleaned the entry and living room earlier in the evening, paranoid in case something like this forced Ashton inside. At least now he’s certain that there’s nothing incriminating lying about.

“Nice place,” Ashton says.

“Thanks,” Michael replies, already booking it for the kitchen to grab a vase. Once he gets there he takes a moment to try to stop the slight shake to his hands and compose himself.

You are an ancient, immortal being who has lived through the fall of empires, he scolds himself. You can handle one date with a cute boy who brought you flowers.

Ashton beams when Michael says he’s ready to go.

“I was thinking we could walk, if that’s okay,” he says while Michael locks the door behind them. “It’s not far.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re actually going, yet?” Michael asks. Ashton mimes zipping his lips. The only information he gave Michael was that it’s going to be a pretty casual setting (and yet he showed up to Michael’s door looking like that) and that Michael won’t have to eat. That’s something he specifically requested, making up a bunch of excuses about being gluten free and severely lactose intolerant and giving a list of other allergens a mile long.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Ashton laughs when he pouts. “Come on.”

He grabs Michael’s hand to start leading him down the street, and Michael absolutely will not admit to himself how nice it feels, warm and alive against his.

They go through some basic small talk on the way there, touching on current work projects since they’re in different departments and learning a bit more about each other’s families. Michael makes an excuse about his being in Australia and tells Ashton about Calum instead, and Ashton fills time by describing his mom and siblings. It’s cute to see the way he lights up, seeming radiant in the light of the setting sun that Michael has to squint harshly against.

“Wow, you really don’t like the sun,” Ashton says eventually.

“What? Oh, not really, I guess.”

“I should’ve known, but I wasn’t sure if all of you are fully nocturnal or not.”

“What?” Michael asks, alarm bells ringing. “Why would you--what makes you say that?”

Ashton shrugs nonchalantly.

“You know. You’re just so pale and pasty,” he says, obvious tease in his voice. “Definitely closer to a creature of the night than an early bird, I’d guess.”

He’s joking. Ashton has not, somehow, discovered his secret ten minutes into their first date.

“Oh fuck you,” he laughs. “Not all of us can have perfect natural tans. I burn really easily.”

“Do you glow in the dark, too? Turn fluorescent under blacklights?”

“Shut up,” Michael says, but he leans a little into Ashton as he says it to let him know that the banter isn’t unwelcome.

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

Michael doesn’t have a chance to ask what he means before Ashton is pulling him towards the doors of a large building. He holds it open for him like a gentleman, and Michael misses the contact of their hands but appreciates having all of his senses free to process the new environment, which is full of a plethora of new sights, sounds, and smells.

“Roller skating?” Michael asks, looking around the large arena. It’s dim, but his eyes adjust immediately to take in the wondrously tacky carpet outside the rink, highlighted in brief bursts by rotating colorful lights. Loud music plays over the speakers, and in the arena people in small groups or pairs are making their way around the track. He can smell fried food and various types of beverages coming from a bar in the corner, mingling with the scent of unfamiliar people. He takes it all in for a moment, then dials back his senses to make it more bearable.

“It’ll be fun,” Ashton says. “Willing to give it a go?”

“Definitely.”

They go get their skates, and Ashton pays for the shoe rental and the entrance fee. Michael hasn’t been roller skating in probably around a decade, and he’s excited Ashton picked this as their date location. So many date ideas these days have to do with food, the only thing Michael absolutely can’t participate in, but Ashton found something that will hopefully be fun while still allowing them to talk and get to know each other better.

“Ready?” Ashton asks. Michael nods, and then they step out into the rink.

Ashton, it turns out, is worse at roller skating than Michael is. That makes sense, because Michael did it a lot in the 70s and 90s and has gone a few times since to keep it fresh, and Ashton isn’t awful, but there are a few instances where he wobbles and his hand immediately reaches out to grab at Michael’s arm before he rebalances and apologizes. Michael laughs at him good naturedly and does a few circles around him until Ashton huffs and Michael slips an arm through his.

“Come on,” Michael says. “Once you’re used to this in about fifteen minutes, I’ll race you around the track.”

Michael wins the first race, but Ashton wins the second, although Michael is giggling too much for it to count, in his opinion. They spend a lot of time making laps and talking, and Michael skates backwards to show off at every opportunity while Ashton dances to the songs that come on over the speakers to make him laugh. It’s one of the best nights Michael has had in a long time, and by the time they leave they’re both walking slowly, stretching their time together as much as possible.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Ashton says when they finally reach Michael’s door. His front light makes the glitter under Ashton’s eyes sparkle, and Michael technically doesn’t have to breathe, but his breath still catches.

“Me too,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So...do you want to do this again?” Ashton asks.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot. I’ll take you out, next time.”

“Okay,” Ashton smiles, ducking his head. Michael catches a faint blush on his cheeks, blood rushing up to color them, and he loves that he sees Ashton like this. At work, he’s always cool and level-headed, confident in what he says and strong in his opinions. Michael has managed to turn him bashful, and that is possibly the best thing to come out of the date.

“I should let you get on with your night,” Ashton says eventually. Michael tries to find some sort of excuse to get him to stay, but then Ashton leans forward and presses his lips to Michael’s cheek, soft and lingering. When he takes a step back, Michael wants to pull him in again to memorize the scent of his skin and feel of his warmth.

“Good night,” Ashton says.

“Night,” Michael makes himself reply. Ashton smiles again, then sets off down the street. Michael watches him, smiling when he glances back and waves again, and continues to stand on his front stoop until Ashton is fully out of sight, even for him.

His phone buzzes as soon as he steps inside, and Michael pulls it out in case it’s something important or work related (or Ashton).

Cal: how was the date? or are you two still going…?

Michael: really fucking good

On the third date, Michael gets to see the inside of Ashton’s apartment.

Michael took them stargazing for their second date. There was a meteor shower he wanted to try to watch, anyway, and he found a good spot outside the city where it would be mostly visible. Ashton likes being outdoors, and Michael doesn’t mind it at night, so he drove them out of the city, made the trek up a hill, and laid out a blanket for them to cuddle up in. All in all, it was a great night. Even the car ride to and from the location was amazing, because Michael told Ashton to make a playlist for it and they spent the entire time discussing favorite songs. Ashton is such a snob about it sometimes, since he’s a music journalist and is always evaluating in his head, but there were a few surprises that he put on there simply because “good music doesn’t always have to be good music, Michael.”

Ashton kissed him on the cheek again when Michael walked him to his door. Michael thinks that something so simple shouldn’t occupy so much space in his thoughts, but he’s been replaying it in his head over and over. It’s a little distracting at work, especially when he gets one of Ashton’s articles to upload to the website.

They head to Ashton’s right after they both clock out. Ashton doesn’t live far and typically walks (he really likes walking places, Michael has noticed), but Michael drives them so he’ll have his car handy at the end of the night. It’s a relatively nice building, and Ashton holds the lobby door open for him, which counts enough as an invite to allow him to enter. They take the elevator up to the fifth floor, then Ashton unlocks his door and steps in.

From what Michael can see, it’s a nice apartment. The entry, kitchen, and living room flow easily together, and there’s a hallway off to the side that Michael assumes leads to the bathroom and bedrooms.

He can’t step over the threshold. He hasn’t been invited in this time, not explicitly enough for him to freely enter despite knowing that Ashton wants him there.

“My roommate is out for the night. I swear I cleaned before I left for work today,” Ashton says, puttering around the living room and picking up what looks like a stray sock, righting the pillows on the couch and straightening some books on the coffee table. Michael leans against the doorframe and watches him. Fluffing the pillows doesn’t really matter to Michael, but if it makes Ashton feel better it’s no hardship on him.

Ashton finishes, then glances around until he spots Michael still in the hall.

“Oh. I didn’t really invite you in, did I.”

“It would’ve been the polite thing to do,” Michael teases. “I’d hate to intrude, you know.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Ashton says, coming forward and taking both of Michael’s hands in his. “Michael Clifford, I formally invite you into my home. You are welcome here whenever you’d like.”

“A simple ‘hey, come in,’ would’ve been sufficient, but thanks,” he laughs, stepping forward.

“Absolutely not,” Ashton says. “If you’re going to be vampiric about entering my home, I’m going to treat you with the proper respect, Count Clifford.”

Apparently the vampire jokes are going to be a thing. Michael can work with that, instead of panicking over it. If he turns it into a bit, maybe Ashton will brush things off longer.

“Thank you, mortal. Now, I vant to suck your blood,” he says, exaggerating the awful stereotypical (absolutely false and insulting) accent. It gets a laugh from Ashton, though, which is what he wanted.

“If you manage to beat me at chess, I’ll let you,” Ashton says.

Michael hasn’t let himself think about Ashton’s blood. He can control himself very easily around humans, and bloodlust isn’t really a thing with him unless he hasn’t eaten in over a week. He has a specific concoction that he picks up from the magic shop like clockwork, a mixture of animal blood, some herbs, a few drops of human blood (humanely donated), and whatever the fuck is the flavor for that batch, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely forgotten how amazing it tastes to drink pure, living blood. It’s incredibly intimate, and Michael hasn’t been that close with a human in a very, very long time.

“Okay,” he chokes, once the silence has stretched on too long. Ashton quirks an eyebrow at him, but moves to get the board games without comment.

Michael loves board games. He loves all games, really, and he mostly deals with video games now to keep as up to date as possible (and because he doesn't have to invite friends over to play most of them). What’s nice about games, though, is that they can change every time. Michael has been playing chess since it was invented, but he’s never played against Ashton, and it’s going to be an entirely new experience.

Unfortunately, Ashton is extremely good at chess.

“What the fuck,” Michael says, king toppling after a five-move checkmate.

“Darn,” Ashton replies, faux innocent. “I guess there’ll be no bloodsucking tonight.”

“Wait, I want a rematch. I’m good at chess, I swear.”

Ashton wins twice more before they move on to another game. They cycle through a few before landing on a card game from Ashton’s family, one that Michael hasn’t heard of or played before. It has a lot of complicated rules, and Ashton walks him through it slowly. If Michael feints misunderstanding more than necessary just to have Ashton’s focus on him, leaning close to look at his cards and explain the best moves, then that’s his business.

Michael doesn’t realize how much time has passed until Ashton’s stomach grumbles loud enough for him to hear.

“How is it already nine o’clock?” he asks. “Shit, you haven’t eaten yet. You could’ve had something.”

Ashton just shakes his head.

“I’m not going to eat in front of you if I don’t have anything to feed you, too,” he says. Michael wishes it were possible for him to digest human food, because while Ashton does have a nice amount of blood he could tap into with permission, somehow Michael doesn’t think that’s on the table

“I have a weird meal schedule, anyway,” he says. “I eat a really big lunch, then only something small late at night. I really don’t mind.”

“I’ll remember that for future reference,” Ashton says. “Although someday I hope you let me feed you.”

It is such a good thing that breathing is an option for Michael, rather than a requirement. Ashton may not have any clue how what he’s saying sounds, but that doesn’t mean Michael isn’t affected.

“We’ll see,” he says, although there’s no chance that’ll ever happen. “I should probably head home, anyway.”

Ashton checks the time.

“You can stay longer if you want. My roommate will be back soon, but he wouldn’t mind.”

Michael wants to stay, but he’s not sure he’d ever leave if he did.

“I think I’ll go. I’m not sure we’re at the “meeting the roommates” stage yet.”

Michael stands, and Ashton follows to walk him out.

“I had a good time. Again,” Ashton says as they walk down the stairs.

“Me too, even if I think you were somehow cheating at chess.”

“Hey,” Ashton complains, then pauses. “I was going to say that jealousy isn’t a good look on you, but everything is a good look on you.”

“Shut up,” Michael says. “That’s not true at all. I have made some bad fashion choices in the past.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ashton says. Michael wishes he could show him the pictures from the 80s, as embarrassing as they are. They reach the bottom landing entirely too soon, but Ashton walks him out to the parking deck until they’re standing next to his car.

“So,” Ashton says, squaring his shoulders. “We’ve been on three dates so far, and I really like you, Michael. Hanging out with you has been some of the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I was wondering if you wanted to officially be my boyfriend.”

Fuck. The smart thing would be to cut this off now, before either of them get too attached, because Michael already thinks it would absolutely shatter his non-existent heart if Ashton found out and thought he was a monster.

“Absolutely,” he says instead, because he’s an idiot who wants what he can’t have. “These past few dates have been the most fun I’ve had in a long time, too.”

Ashton beams, like the sun breaking through clouds. He has dimples, and Michael really wants to press his fingers into the divots. He just wants to touch Ashton everywhere, really, to feel the soft skin and know that there’s blood bringing heat to it from his heart to every corner and crevice.

There’s something so absolutely tantalizing about how alive Ashton is. Michael knows that he can’t be more like him, not even if he was actually alive still, but he’s content to have him near. He’d be content to watch from a distance, honestly, but if Ashton wants him close then Michael is going to stay close.

He should not be this whipped after only the third date.

“Well,” he says once they’ve spent too much time grinning at each other silently.

“I should let you go,” Ashton says. “I’ll text you.”

“I’d like that,” Michael says. He goes to open his car door, but Ashton’s hand on his wrist stops him. He leans forward and to kiss Michael on the cheek, just like the past two dates, but this time it lands a bit lower and closer to the middle. The corner of his mouth hits Michael’s and lingers there for just a second longer than he can bear.

“For fucks sake,” he breathes, then slots their lips together properly. Ashton smiles into the kiss before he can get it under control and properly kiss back. Maybe it’s dramatic to say that this kiss feels like it’s filling some hole in Michael that he didn’t know was vacant, but Michael is a dramatic guy, and there’s something special about the way their noses bump and how instinctual it is to shift closer. Michael doesn’t really want it to end, so he gives Ashton another peck before pulling away fully. Ashton’s eyes take a moment to flutter open.

It’s definitely far too early to be in love, but Michael is very self-aware after being around for so long, and he knows he’s going to have to actively try not to fall head-over-heels for Ashton.

“Have a good night, Ashton,” Michael says.

“You too. Drive safe.”

Michael keeps his composure as he pulls out of the parking space, aware of Ashton’s eyes on him. He manages to keep it together all the way home, actually, but the moment his door shuts behind him he’s leaning against it, giddy with a crush and wondering what he’s just gotten himself into.

Movie nights become a bit of a thing. It’s a low-maintenance way to spend time together, and sometimes they’re both too tired after grueling work days or hard weeks to be around a lot of people. Michael’s house has a pretty nice tv, and he has an extensive movie collection, including some horrible b-movies on VHS that Ashton finds endlessly amusing. A lot of Michael’s favorite moments are spent snuggled up on the couch under Ashton’s arm or with his feet in his lap, watching the way the light from the screen plays off of his face more than the movie itself.

Ashton hasn’t seen the Twilight movies, which is almost a travesty. Michael watched all of them in theaters with Calum, both of them weirdly captivated with how completely bonkers and inaccurate they are, and they’ve seen them often enough to quote them almost completely to each other at the drop of a hat. Michael is tired today, and he wants something he doesn’t have to pay much attention to.

He sleeps significantly less than humans do, but that doesn’t mean that staying up for the past week and a half straight was a good idea. He was also on his feet more than usual at work, and everything is hurting a little. His body has better-than-average healing, but it’s also over a few centuries old. Today, he’s feeling it.

Edward has just gotten the first sniff of Bella and looks like he’s about to puke when Ashton turns to him. Michael is leaning against the corner of the couch, head lolling to the side and feet tucked up next to him. He’s been looking at Ashton and letting his thoughts drift, and he should probably be more embarrassed than he is that he was caught at it.

“What’s up with you today?” Ashton asks. “You’re suspiciously quiet.”

“Tired,” Michael says. “My feet hurt.”

“I can help with one of those things,” he says. “Give me your feet.”

“What?”

Ashton gestures until Michael uncurls, stretching his legs out until his feet land in Ashton’s lap. He starts at Michael’s ankles, gently rubbing and then moving to the bottoms of his feet. Michael jumps when he presses down on a particularly tight tendon, but it’s already feeling leagues better.

“I can’t believe you’re touching my feet,” he groans as Ashton presses a knuckle into the center, making his toes curl. “That’s so gross.”

Ashton snorts.

“I don’t mind, but I’ll wash my hands after if it makes you feel better. I just want to make you feel good.”

Michael’s face would be completely inflamed if he had the blood for it.

“Shut up. This better not be a fetish for you.”

Ashton laughs this time, a full belly laugh that Michael would enjoy hearing more if it didn’t make him stop the massage.

“Would that be a deal breaker?” he giggles when he’s calmed down enough. Michael takes a moment to evaluate if he’s actually joking or not, because he really likes Ashton and has loved being his boyfriend for the past couple of months, but feet might be where he draws the line.

“No, I don’t have a foot fetish,” Ashton says after a moment of Michael staring at him like a deer in the headlights. Michael lets out a sigh of relief. He can be adventurous about stuff like that, and he’s been around long enough to try basically everything, but someone being aroused by his feet will always be just a little too weird.

“Do you have any embarrassing fetishes or kinks?” Ashton asks conversationally. “Just… for future reference, if that’s something you want.”

They haven’t done anything besides some lazy making out, which Michael is grateful for. He likes that they’re taking their time with it. He doesn’t want to rush this, but the thought has crossed his mind before.

He swallows. Ashton’s alternating between glancing at the tv and paying attention to his massage, and Michael doesn’t know if he should be grateful that he’s not trapped under that gaze or upset that he doesn’t have Ashton’s full undivided attention.

“Nothing embarrassing,” Michael says. “I’m open to a lot of things, but I really like being taken care of. I’ve been told I can be demanding and needy. Sometimes I like… being held down, I guess. Nothing excessive, but…”

He’s an extra-strong, extra-resilient being. Every time he feels like someone else has the control, it’s a special kind of rush.

Ashton glances at him from under his eyelashes, the blue-green light from the tv casting strange and otherworldly shadows over his face. Michael swallows thickly again.

“I like taking care of my partner, so that works out,” Ashton says. Michael nods. Ashton turns back to the tv and tilts his head in consideration, putting his neck on full display.

“You know,” he says, “I never really was into biting, but now…” He trails off, then brings a finger up to his neck, tracing along the length of it subconsciously. At least, Michael hopes that it’s subconscious. The air is thick with tension, and if Ashton is doing this on purpose than he knows a lot more about Michael than he’s let on.

“It might be nice to be marked up a bit,” Ashton says. He glances at Michael, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “Maybe Bella had the right idea, going after a vampire.”

Michael snorts and the tension dissipates like a balloon popping.

“I hardly think anyone in this movie counts as a real vampire.”

“You don’t think real vampires sparkle in the sun?” Ashton asks. “Darn. What’s the point of vampires if you have to dump glitter on them for the sparkle effect?”

“You’re an idiot,” Michael laughs.

“I’m the idiot? You’re the one who’s all the way over there when you have a perfectly good boyfriend right here who’s ready to cuddle you.”

Michael rolls his eyes and shifts to tuck himself against Ashton’s side.

“Happy?” he asks.

“Very,” Ashton says, taking a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over them. It’s cozy. Michael sighs in contentment.

“Do your feet feel a little better?” Ashton asks, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“If you want to take a nap now, you can.”

Michael hums and seeks out Ashton’s other hand, tangling their fingers together sloppily. He’s tired, but he probably won’t drift off. He has all night for a power nap, and right now he doesn’t want to miss a second of his time with Ashton.

The door bangs shut behind them, and Michael doesn’t have a moment to reorient himself before Ashton is on him again, lips incessantly seeking his and body caging him against the wall. Michael’s own hands are already slipping under his shirt, desperate to feel the warm expanse of his back and pull him even closer. He’s always run cold, even before he was turned, but right now he feels like he’s burning up from the inside out, flames igniting with every point of contact between them. Ashton gets a hand in his hair and tugs, and Michael makes a noise he wasn’t expecting to come out of him.

Don’t drop your fangs, don’t drop your fangs, don’t drop your fangs, he repeats to himself. It’s typically effortless to keep his fangs retracted and unnoticable, but he hasn’t done this with someone he truly likes in a very, very long time. He can’t allow himself to get so mindlessly overwhelmed that they slip down.

Ashton detaches their lips to take a breath, and Michael takes the opportunity to trail kisses over his jawline and down the column of his throat. Ashton hums into it, the sound reverberating through his vocal chords, and Michael nips at his throat to turn the hum into a groan, sucking at it again to ease the sting.

There’s a particular feeling of satisfaction at leaning back briefly to take in his progress, knowing that the blood is pooling just under the surface of Ashton’s skin. When he returns to his ministrations with a slightly harsher bite, Ashton jolts, rocking into him.

“Fuck, Michael,” he breathes.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Michael asks between kisses, trailing over his collarbones now because Ashton never buttons his fucking shirts.

“Anything. Everything. I--” He’s cut off by another groan that dissolves into a breathless laugh. “You’re so fucking distracting; get back up here.”

He tugs on Michael’s hair again, guiding their mouths together. It’s easier than breathing to let Ashton take control, and Michael could stand here all night and let himself be kissed against the wall if there weren’t other things he wanted to be doing in the bedroom. Still, he whines when Ashton pulls away.

“I know you don’t sleep, and I’ll keep up as much as I can,” Ashton pants. “I can’t fucking wait to take you apart.”

“So do it,” Michael says, not able to care about how desperate he sounds. “No one’s stopping you.”

“You’re such a mouthy little shit,” he says, leaning back in for a kiss that Michael feels all the way down to his toes. They don’t part again until they’re in the bedroom and falling onto the mattress.

-/-

Afterwards, Michael watches, amused, as Ashton fights to keep his eyes open. They never turned on the lights, but Michael can see just fine with his vampire eyesight and the early rays of sunshine beginning to paint the sky outside in pinks and oranges.

“Just go to sleep,” Michael laughs, tracing another mindless pattern onto Ashton’s ribs. “We’re done. I can’t handle anything else.”

“Weird to sleep when you’re not,” he mumbles, eyes already slipping closed again. “Can feel you watching me.”

“I won’t watch you,” Michael says. “I’ll probably fall asleep right after.”

Ashton snorts halfheartedly. Michael rolls his eyes, then nudges Ashton onto his side and fits himself behind him. Ashton sighs and relaxes again almost immediately, a heavy weight at his front while Michael slides one arm under the pillow and anchors them together with the other. He gets a great view of Ashton’s sweaty and tangled hair, and that’s about it.

“There,” Michael murmurs. “Now I can’t watch you. Happy?”

Ashton hums. He’ll be out in less than a minute.

Regardless of all of Ashton’s jokes about Michael never sleeping (he resents that he looks tired enough at all times for that to be an assumption), Ashton managed to tire him out. He doesn’t need to sleep right now, but there’s no harm in it. He lets the steady push and pull of Ashton’s breathing and the heartbeat he can barely feel under his palm lull him, and he drifts off soon after.

“You want me to meet your family?” Michael asks, eyes wide in the face of this new information.

“If you’re comfortable with it,” Ashton says nonchalantly, but the way he’s avoiding Michael’s eyes tells him this conversation is anything but casual. He’s focused on throwing things into a blender, raspberries and peaches joining ice cubes and yogurt for a smoothie that Michael has watched him make dozens of times before. Michael can drink smoothies if they’re blended enough, and honestly he’s got a bit of a blood hunger going on because the last batch of his concoction from the magic store tasted gross and he’s supposed to go in today to get the new one. Still, a smoothie wouldn’t help with that, and he turned down Ashton’s offer in favor of a cup of coffee, wanting a warm mug in his hands. He’s glad to have something to keep his arms from flailing at this new curveball, in any case.

Ashton turns on the blender, the angry sound filling the previously-serene morning.

He can’t meet Ashton’s mum and siblings. He’s a vampire, and he’s already entirely too attached to Ashton as it is. It’s easy to fantasize about revealing his secret and Ashton being okay with it when it’s just the two of them, but there’s no way he can get to know his family only to break their heart when he has to leave Ashton for his own good.

Michael can’t watch Ashton grow old without him. He could do it for a few years, maybe a few decades, and he wants to spend as much time with him as possible, but eventually it would get too hard. Michael’s good at running, and he’s good at being alone. It’s harder to do both of those things with a family involved.

“That’s a big step,” Michael says once the blender stops.

“I’ve met Calum, and you said he’s closer than your family.”

“Against my will!”

Calum had insisted on meeting “the guy who’s got you wrapped around his finger,” and Michael had been powerless to stop it. They get on like a house fire and Michael gets teased about five times more than he used to, but he secretly loves it. Calum and Ashton are by far the two people he loves most in the world, and it’s nice to see them also enjoy each other.

“Michael,” Ashton says, pouring his smoothie into a glass and still refusing to look at him, something unfamiliar in his expression, “I’ve never gone this long without introducing them to someone I’m serious about. They really want to meet you.”

“I--I want to meet them, too, but…”

Ashton sighs and finally faces him head-on. Michael has never felt this small.

“Are you serious about us?”

“Of course,” he says, but it comes out more like a question, and he watches something shutter in Ashton’s eyes. He turns back to the blender, starting to dismantle it so he can rinse it properly, always trying to keep the kitchen neat, and Michael knows that he has to say something to try to fix this, anything to stop the sad slope of Ashton’s shoulders and that hurt look in his eyes.

“Ash, I have to tell you something,” he says before he can think twice. Ashton hums, and Michael steels himself for whatever reaction is about to occur, whether he has to bolt for the door or not. “I--um, well, I…”

He hasn’t had to confess to someone in over forty years. He doesn’t know how to do it anymore. He swallows and tries again.

“I don’t really know how to say this, but… I mean, I--”

“Shit,” Ashton exclaims, something clattering in the sink.

“What’s wrong?” Michael asks, and a second later the metallic tang of blood reaches his nose.

“Cut my thumb on the blender blades,” Ashton says, turning around and sticking the pad of his thumb in his mouth. Michael stares at him, unable to move.

The thing is, Ashton’s blood smells really good. He knew it would, because if he loves everything else about Ashton it makes sense that he would love him down to the blood in his veins and the DNA it carries, but this is the first time Ashton has split skin in his vicinity, and it’s more to handle than Michael thought it would be. He’s hungry, and he’s upset, and Ashton is right there in front of him, bleeding.

He shakes himself from that train of thought.

“Are you alright? How bad is it?” he asks. Ashton takes his thumb out of his mouth to check, and that just makes the smell intensify. Michael feels a bit of saliva pool in his mouth and swallows it back.

“It’s not too bad,” Ashton says. “It mostly just hurts, but once the bleeding lessens I’ll put a bandaid on it and it should be fine.”

He goes to put it back in his mouth and glances up at Michael, freezing at whatever he sees there. Michael doesn’t know what his face is doing, or why his posture feels so stiff, or what the fuck he’s supposed to do with Ashton just standing there with a bleeding thumb, and for a long moment they just stare at each other. Michael forgets to breathe.

Slowly, like he’s coaxing a startled animal towards him, Ashton reaches out his hand towards Micheal. A drop of blood drips off his thumb and onto the floor. Michael couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

“You know,” Ashton says, low and calm, “you could help me stop the bleeding, if you wanted.”

Michael stares at him, not comprehending the words, when he feels two pinpricks on the inside of his bottom lip.

His fangs dropped.

“I have to go,” he says, scrambling out of his seat and hastily putting his coffee on the table. He probably spills some, but he can’t look back to check, shoving on his shoes and sprinting out the door, Ashton’s questions echoing behind him.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

He’s scrambling for his phone as he tries to unlock his car, tears starting to cloud his vision with the panic. He presses Calum’s speed dial as soon as he gets the door open, tearing out of the parking space without putting on his seatbelt.

“Hello?” Calum finally answers.

“My fangs dropped,” he says, consonants coming out in that strange way they do when his mouth has more teeth than usual.

“What happened?” Calum asks immediately. He knows how serious something like this can be, especially for someone like Michael, who tries so hard to avoid it. He sniffles and blinks the tears out of his eyes so he can see the road better. Calum’s house is close, and he just needs to get a few more blocks before he has backup.

“I was with Ashton and he cut himself on a blender. I--we had a fight, or--I made him feel bad, in any case, and I haven’t eaten enough, and then he cut himself and I felt the fangs and ran out of there with no explanation. He’s going to hate me. I’ve ruined everything!”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Calum says, but it’s not like Ashton is his boyfriend. Michael doesn’t know how to recover from something like this.

Calum tries to console him for the rest of the short car ride, stopping once Michael pulls into his driveway to turn an assessing gaze on him instead. His expression tells Michael that he’s leaving much to be desired right now.

“Alright, Mikey. Let’s get you out of the sun, yeah? We’ll figure this out.”

He holds out his arms, and Michael falls right into them, letting Calum lead him into the house. His fangs still prick at his lips, a sharp reminder of everything he ruined due to one second of lousy control.

The bell to the magic shop digs as they enter, and Michael pulls down his sunglasses. Calum got him to stop crying and gave him a bit of his own leftover concoction, because he hadn’t drunk all of it due to the taste, either. It was enough for Michael to be able to get his fangs back under control, but it doesn’t stop how miserable he feels about the way he left, or the conversation they were having beforehand.

He can’t let himself be around Ashton if his fangs are going to drop like that. He would never hurt him, he knows that, but there’s still the potential that he can’t ignore. Ashton’s safety and comfort isn’t something he can risk. Even if Ashton was somehow okay with him being a vampire, they wouldn’t work.

Michael has known this since the beginning. He let himself fall in love, anyway.

There are three missed calls and over a dozen text messages that he still has to try to answer on his phone. There’s no way to do that without breaking both of their hearts, but Calum told Ashton that Michael is physically okay and that he’d talk to him tomorrow. For now, he needs to sort through his own feelings and calm down, and for that they need to pick up the weekly blood supply.

“Hi!” the witch at the counter says. His name is Luke, and Calum’s been flirting with him ever since he started working there. It would be cute if it didn’t make these excursions so tedious, and if Michael himself wasn’t currently mourning what is soon to be the end of an absolutely spectacular relationship.

“Our usual, please,” he says curtly. Luke glances between him and Calum, who gives a beaming smile, then heads to the back storage room.

“Maybe it’ll taste less like shit this time,” he mutters. Calum nudges him, but doesn’t get the chance to say anything before the bell over the door chimes again. Michael knows who it is before he turns around, the scent and rhythm of his heartbeat as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Ashton freezes in the doorway. He has changed into a sweatshirt, the one he wears when he’s having a bad day because it feels like a perpetual hug without having to be touched, and Michael is probably going to cry again. Out of the three of them, Calum pulls himself together first.

“Hello, Ashton. I didn’t know you frequented this shop.”

“Ashton!” Luke says, returning from the back with their order in a crate. “Did you bring it?”

Michael finally notices the tupperware in his hands when he hands it to Luke, who opens a corner and sniffs.

“You know each other?” Michael asks.

“Oh, sorry!” Luke says. “This is Ashton, my roommate. I’d never eat lunch if he wasn’t there to bring it to me.”

“You’re the roommate?” Michael asks. In all of their months of dating, he never managed to meet the roommate, even though Ashton has known Calum for weeks. Weird schedules and Michael’s aversion to meeting and possibly getting attached to more people prevented it. Luke looks between Michael, Calum, and Ashton, and then a lightbulb hits.

“You’re Ashton’s Michael!”

“How many other vampires named Michael do you know?” Ashton asks, and Michael reels back, Calum’s hand on his spine the only thing keeping him upright.

“You know?” Ashton frowns.

“Michael, I’ve known since the first day I met you.”

“Wh--you never mentioned it!”

“I made some references, then figured it wasn’t something you were comfortable talking about.”

“Wait,” Luke says. “You know Ashton is a minor deity, right?”

“What? ”

Michael turns desperately to Calum, because none of this makes sense, but Calum is having some sort of silent conversation with Luke.

“You two need to talk,” he says eventually.

“I need to show Calum something in the back, anyway,” Luke says, grabbing Calum’s sleeve and tugging him around the counter, shutting the door to the storeroom behind them. It’s not the slickest move that Michael’s ever seen, but he’s having a crisis and can’t be bothered to laugh at Luke for it.

“So,” Ashton says. “It seems there’s been a bit of miscommunication here.”

“You’re a deity?” Michael asks. Ashton starts to blush, which is cute. He clasps his hands together and nods once.

“Yeah, my entire family is. The religion died down centuries ago, so it’s mostly our belief in each other that’s keeping us alive. I’m basically just an immortal human now, but I’ve been around long enough to recognize other non-humans when I see them.”

“And you’ve known I was a vampire the entire time?” he asks. Ashton nods. “Oh.”

“I thought that you knew that I knew,” he says.

“I didn’t,” Michael says. “I thought you would hate me when you found out.”

“I could never hate you,” Ashton says, taking a step forward and reaching for him before he aborts the movement. Michael looks at his feet and wonders if what he says next will change that.

“My fangs dropped earlier, when you cut your thumb.” His voice is steadier than anticipated, but he can’t help but brace himself for Ashton to back away or run screaming. He doesn’t do either of those.

“Is that why you left so quickly?”

He nods, shame pooling in his stomach.

“I was offering, you know? I wouldn’t have minded if you had a taste.”

“But I didn’t know that at the time,” Michael says, focusing on the shame so he doesn’t do something horrible like start thinking about what it would really be like to have some of Ashton’s blood. “I just… lost control. I can’t do that. I won’t let myself.”

“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself,” Ashton says gently, stepping closer until he can put his hands on Michael’s arms, then sliding down to grasp his hands. “Can you look at me?” Michael tries, then shakes his head. “That’s okay, and your fangs dropping earlier is okay, too. You had a lot on your mind, were probably a little hungry, and I was waving my bloody finger under your nose, even if you didn’t recognize it as an invitation. What’s important is that you didn’t try anything without asking. You didn’t hurt me; you removed yourself from the situation. I would say that that’s keeping things pretty under control, wouldn’t you?”

“But I could’ve hurt you, even if I didn’t.”

“Michael, you’re not a mindless beast,” Ashton says. “The fact that you’re this upset about your body’s natural physical reaction shows that. You’re not going to do anything to hurt someone else like that. You have to trust yourself.”

Michael wrinkles his nose, then finally makes himself meet Ashton’s eyes. There’s nothing but compassion there, no fear or disgust.

“You’re not going to hurt anyone,” Ashton repeats.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” Michael agrees. “I can trust myself with that.”

A grin breaks out on Ashton’s face.

“Good,” he says. “I trust you, too.”

“And, about meeting your family,” Michael starts.

“Don’t worry about that,” Ashton says. “I was a little pushy. We can talk about it and figure out something that works for both of us.”

“I was going to say that I’ll do it,” Michael says. “Half of my worry had to do with me being a vampire and you and your family being unsuspecting humans, but that’s not an issue anymore.”

“What about the other half?”

“Just normal meeting-the-family jitters,” he says. “They’re really important to you, and I don’t want them to hate me because I didn’t meet them earlier.”

“They won’t hate you,” Ashton says. “You’re a delight.”

“I hope they share that thought.”

“They will. I love you, so they will, too.”

Michael feels like he’s going to burst. He also feels menally exhausted from this entire affair and the emotional whiplash it’s giving him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. Ashton answers by leaning forward, and Michael sinks against him, melting into the feeling.

“So,” Calum says loudly, startling them both. “Are you guys good now?”

“What do you think?” he snips.

“I don’t know, Luke,” Calum says, turning away from Michael and towards him. “Do you think that they’re good now?”

“They did look rather cosy,” Luke says. “In fact, I’d say that Ashton looked ready to pledge himself to Michael as his personal blood bank. His little ketchup packet, if you will.”

Calum bursts out laughing. Michael tries to be affronted, but Ashton starts laughing incredulously next to him.

“Ketchup packet? Is that what I’m reduced to?”

“There are worse titles,” Calum says between bouts of laughter. Luke looks ridiculously pleased at this development.

“Please never refer to him as my ketchup packet again,” Michael says. “I’m begging you not to.”

“If the fangs fit,” Luke says, which makes Calum dissolve into laughter again. It’s not even funny. Honestly, they deserve each other.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Let’s go back to my place. I want to hear all about your vampire antics from the olden days, now that I know you’re okay with talking about it.”

“Only if I get to hear stories about being a minor deity,” Michael says, grabbing his part of the blood order. “Cal, you’re paying for this one!”

They’re out the door before Calum can protest, and Ashton puts an arm around his waist as they walk. It’s uncomfortably sunny out, but Michael feels no rush to get back inside. They’re both immortal, and they’ve got the rest of their lives.

#5soshalloweenevent2020 #my writing #mashton #5sos fic #this was super fun #I had a great time tbh #I like being forced to write au fics because I do so many canon-verse ones #disclaimer there is a joke at the end that I felt compelled to include #due to it being so ridiculous #but it is ainslee who originally said it. I cannot take credit :)

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the-peachpit · 3 years

Text

ENDER MIRROR

No Romantic Relationships

Fandom: DSMP

TW: Past Abuse

“Damn it,” Tommy breathed out, “Ah fuck it!” he pulled up his fishing pole seeing the third empty line, not even a hook attached to the end. “You fuckers!” The blonde shook his fist at the river.

“You’re too loud,” Ranboo set his pole to the side letting it lay on the wooden dock they had built, “You’re scaring away the fish.”

Tommy threw his fishing rod to the side, “Stupid fucking fish.” He pulled his knees up to his chest resting his chin on them.

He caught Ranboo tying another hook to the end of his line without even asking-Tommy groaned. He was done fishing was frustrating and no fun he could think of a million other things he’d rather do.

“You swear too much,” Ranboo concentrated on tying a small metal hook to the end of the clear wire.

Tommy had already stabbed himself five times with the hooks not even trying to attach them to the line one of them was from a bad cast. He had brushed them off before now looking down at his fingers he noticed two of the red marks where the hooks had stabbed the tips of his fingers. Ranboo had offered him one of the Band-Aids he carried around for Michael and secretly Tubbo. He turned it down a little dirt was good for a wound, it’s what Wilbur always said. Wilbur never carried Band-Aids. Tommy closed his hands into fists-well not after they left home. A stick from a hook was nothing he couldn’t shrug off.

“Earth to Tommy,” Ranboo held the pole up waving it towards Tommy.

Tommy snatched the wooden end, “Would you stop waving that thing around. Can we go do something else? You don’t even like fish.”

Ranboo cast his line, “Tubbo isn’t a big fan either, “He scrunched up his weird enderman mouth the small slitted sides caving in, “But he enjoyed fishing.”

Tommy snorted, “There’s no way Tubbo would be into this it’s so boring!”

“He thinks it’s relaxing,” Rnaboo’s green and red eyes were on the water.

Rolling his eyes Tommy watched trying to focus on Ranboo’s line almost transparent against the gentle current. It was swallowed up and then released searching for prey.

“I can’t picture him standing still this long,” Tommy let his feet dangle off the end of the wooden pier the water gently lapping to graze the bottoms every once in a while. “But I don’t really know Tubbo much, anymore do I?”

“That’s literally the exact opposite of why I brought you out here,” Ranboo leaned forward his shoulders scrunched up by his ears.

Tommy looked at him cocking his head to the side.

“Stop acting like I replaced you, it’s getting old,” Ranboo turned his head.

Green and red eyes that were split across the middles starred at Tommy. He looked annoyed but more annoyed than when Tommy would be loud and obnoxious and annoyed that felt familiar. Ranboo actually looked upset with him-Ranboo never looked upset with anyone, not genuinely.

“Tubbo married you,” Tommy gagged at the word married, “Can you get more replaced than married?”

Ranboo laughed but Tommy couldn’t see what was so funny. He watched the man sitting cross-legged keeping his delicate skin far away from the water. Instead of his regular suit, he wore a black tank top that almost matched half of his skin and black shorts. If he weren’t an enderman hybrid he’d look boring. Tubbo didn’t really like boring people though.

“The second you came waltzing back I was getting myself ready for a divorce,” Ranboo wheezed.

Tommy raised a blonde brow, “Why?”

“I knew what Tubbo was doing,” Ranboo shrugged, “He was replacing me, he had you to elan n his whole life, and suddenly you were dead. He couldn’t cope and I was there to fill a hole. When you came back, and he stayed I was just as surprised as you.”

Tommy shrugged, “He likes you a lot, and I guess,” he deflated his shoulders sagging, “I guess I don’t totally hate your guts anymore, but you’re always on thin ice.”

“Noted,” Ranboo nodded, “You know,” he leaned back on his palms, “You’ll always know more about him than I do. His scars are the biggest mystery to me, and I don’t pry, but I wish he felt comfortable talking to me about them. They keep him up at night sometimes itching, and sometimes his body aches in a way he can’t get out of bed.”

Tommy looked back down at his hands the scars running across his fingers and palms-he was covered in scars. Small reminders from head to toe of a life he lived too long ago. His skin wasn’t a map like Techno’s-but it was close. He found them mostly on his arms and legs-the biggest addition was to his forehead. Where Dream had bashed his skull open. Tommy grew his bangs long the white streak prominent-he didn’t think he’d ever get them short again.

Ranboo pulled up another empty line, “Tommy,” his voice was soft losing the playful edge, “Are you okay?”

Opening his mouth Tommy felt his heart thump against his ribs, “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Gentle hands held the translucent wire Tommy watched the wisps of steam rise from Ranboo’s hands. Even the small drops of water hurt his sensitive endermen skin. Ranboo returned Tommy’s confused look, “I think it’s pretty obvious, you never talk about your past with malice, but you went through so much.”

“Bit dramatic don’t you think?”

Ranboo looked out to the river, then back to Tommy, “Do you not,” He cocked his head to the other side swaying his long white and black bangs along with his floppy ears, “Do you not realize you’ve been wading in tragedy for years?”

“You’ve lost me Ran,” Tommy shrugged watching the river spotting a stupid salmon.

“You’re a child soldier for starters,” Ranboo frowned.

“L’manburg was our dream.”

“It sounds more and more like Wilbur’s dream every time I hear you talk about it.”

“Come off it, Tubbo can tell you-“

“We’ve talked about it,” Ranboo cast his line, “You two were bonded over being brainwashed into thinking you were bigger than you were. Wilbur sunk his claws deep into you being your brother.”

“Wilbur was,” Tommy looked down at his hands. Why was his skin so hot?

“Killed,” Ranboo said the word effortlessly, “By your own father who was never around- in front of you.”

He was blunt. Was that really what happened? It wasn’t that simple, there were layers he was skipping things. Tommy was there he saw it all it wasn’t bad.

“I was happy Ranboo when we were building L’manburg,” Tommy back peddled the conversation.

“You always reminisce in those days. Was it the last time you were happy?” Ranboo asked.

Tommy felt the heat creep up his neck, “That’s fucking stupid, I’m always happy.”

“That’s the problem,” Ranboo’s voice rose, “You died a month ago-like permanently in hell died. You came back fine.”

Tommy could hear his heart in his ears and desperately tried to breathe louder to prove to his throat it wasn’t closing.

“I-I,” Tommy stuttered, “It was all my fault. L’manburg, Wilbur-if I was better it could have been avoided. If I wasn’t me, maybe we’d still be in L’manburg and you’d be married to someone who wasn’t reliving dying in the middle of the night. I ruin everything. I started a war I couldn’t finish. I watched Wil change and didn’t reach out and he died. I betrayed Technoblade and hurt him. When Dream beat me to death, I thought I deserved it, the world would be free from Tommyinnit. I’d be free from hurting.”

Never putting it into words before Tommy felt the weight of his actions from the past few years. All he did was cause trouble, his father knew it, his brothers knew it, even deep down he knew his best friend knew it. Everyone always got into shitty situations because he ran his mouth thinking it was clever. The first day Tubbo said Tommy was quiet Tommy felt pride, being quiet meant being better. Sitting on that bench where an empty grave sat built by the only person who really cared Tommy dug his nails into his palms. Anything to not feel swearing the grave was his new beginning. Anytime Tommy felt too strongly he would dig into his palms until he could trace the crescent moon shapes indented in his skin.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s not your fault? None of it was your fault alone.”

Spinning his head to the side with wide eyes when he heard Ranboo shift Tommy thought the worst. Ranboo was toying with him, trying to get into his head before killing him. Maybe by pushing him into the river, holding him under. Lifting his arms in front of his face bracing for impact-he’d stopped fighting so long ago. Strong arms that could have easily broken his neck, strong arms had ended his life, but now they encircled him. With no malice, they embraced him tensing Tommy’s ragged breath made him feel like he was choking. Pressed against soft cloth Tommy was certain he’d be smothered. He accepted it his fight long gone. Stiffly Tommy sat in a hug, not one that was too tight like Wilbur’s when he told Tommy he could do better. Not uncaring and lazy like when Dream would visit in exile. A hug. Simple and gentle. Slowly Tommy felt a bubble rise from his chest. It traveled along his windpipe expanding as it broke to the surface.

A tear fell stinging its way out of Tommy’s bright blue eyes that had lost their shine. A singular warning to the start of a flood. It felt good, reliving to feel the wet cool water slip down his jaw. The bubble burst and Tommy did something he’d never done. Not when Wilbur yelled, not when Schlatt yelled, not when Sam yelled, not when Technoblade, not when Dream or anyone screamed at him. He took every blow with a smile for years being above it all. He didn’t know it was being stored away in his heart festering into his self-doubt and anxieties. It was the force suffocating him. As he cried into Ranboo’s shirt he finally felt like he could breathe. The bubble in his throat bursting as he screamed back at everyone who assaulted him verbally or physically.

He was scarred by unkind hands and instead of bandaging the wounds, he let them fester with mud, dirt, and hatred because he thought he deserved it. Finally feeling peace for the first time in months all it took was him dying for everyone to finally feel free. When he came back it all felt so painful and finally, he’d be what he always dreaded-alone. However, Tubbo and Ranboo accepted him so easily back into open arms. Invitations always felt like a trap to Tommy, but they were genuine. Caring for him gently making sure every hour he was holding it all together. He held it together for them. Being told he was allowed to not be okay, to feel and cry, it was crushing like a wave. Yet relieving as a cold drink on the hottest summer day. Tommy was free from the clutches of every pair of hands that circled his throat, held a sword to him and his friends. He wasn’t a hero gilded in gold expected to save or protect anyone. He was free to be anyone in a future that was stretched out bright in front of him in a small nation.

After what felt like hours but was realistically twenty minutes Tommy pried himself away from Ranboo worried his tears may have burned the man. To his relief, the enderman hybrid was unharmed protected by his clothing. Gently Tommy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand before looking back out to the gentle river. He pretended every current that whisked by was carrying every one of his fears away for the last time.

Looking back down at his hands Tommy saw the red pinpricks from the hooks.

“Hey Ranboo,” Tommy flexed his fingers, “Can I have some Band-Aids?”

Ranboo nodded digging into his pockets, “Sure thing.”

It was never too late to heal

#dsmp fanfic #dsmp writing #ender mirror #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp writing #ranboo #tubbo mcyt #thats my streamer #tommyinnit

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justlightlysedated · 4 years

Note

For the WIP ask meme: Can I ask about all of them? It’s just I am very curious and bad at choosing between things so I can’t pick one. If that is too much then talk about the one you want to talk about most. Or any you pick at random. I am literally interested in any and all of f them. I really love your writing ❤️

thank you very much!! i enjoy writing so much, esp for malex, and i wanted to talk about all of them tbh, so here you go, some plot plus a few sneak peeks!!

1. i knew from the start, you'd be the one to set me free:

--this one a teen malex fic where jesse doesn't catch them in the toolshed, and they're just smitten as hell and alex makes plans to follow michael to unm

--this one i wanted to write because i miss teen malex and they were so cute and so in love and i just wanted more of that

--here's a small sneak peek:

“See you tomorrow?” Michael asks, and Alex nods his head rapidly.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll call you later?”

“Definitely,” Michael says nodding, making a note to go put minutes on his phone before he goes to see Max.

Alex smiles, and Michael smiles back at him, and Michael isn’t entirely sure how long they stand there, just staring at each other, smiling, but they don’t move until another car passes by, this one quieter, but almost as loud.

“Alright,” Alex says, and takes a step backwards, towards the path that will lead him to his front door. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Michael replies and waves his hand, and Alex lifts his own hand to wave back, and then he just shakes his head and turns around, walking rapidly.

Michael watches him as he goes, and he can’t stop himself from leaning back against his truck and smiling, especially when Alex turns back, not once, or twice, but three times.

The last one right before he rounds the corner of the house that hides him from view.

Michael looks up at the sky, his smile getting wider, and he laughs a little, shaking his head, feeling like this is the beginning of something amazing, and he’s going to do everything in his power to keep it for as long as he can.

2. #nickyandjoepiningintheforest

--this one is for my 2kcelebrationfics, just yusuf and nicolo staring at each other and thinking sappy thoughts, in the forest by a campfire, as you do

--kayla asked me for anything to do with their sun and moon imagery, and two scenes popped into my head, the first one was yusuf looking at nicolo and the moon is perfectly positioned to look like he’s wearing a halo and just feeling too much, and then nicolo staring at yusuf as the rays of the sun start to caress his skin and pining quietly

--tiny sneak peek:

Their swords he can see are on the ground right by his feet, and Nicolo is concentrating on tying the feather fletching to his arrow with a thin leather cord.

His bow and quiver are lying down right by Yusuf’s outstretched hand, close enough that he’d be able to grab an arrow easily.

But he doesn’t, Yusuf relaxes even more in Nicolo’s presence, and turns a little, pressing his back harder against the tree as he leans his head fully on his arm and just stares.

It’s not often that he gets to look his fill of Nicolo, moments like these were often stolen and brief and few and far between, so he takes what he can, watching the way the fire throws shadows across his face, how he furrows his brow and purses his mouth in concentration.

He finishes fixing the arrow and sets it aside, eyes darting up to Yusuf.

Nicolo inhales sharply, seemingly surprised to find him awake, eyes widening just slightly, but he smiles immediately after, small and private and reaches out with one hand, before he stops himself, fingers clenching into a fist as he pulls his hand back.

“Go back to sleep,” he says voice low. “You’re safe now.”

3. may nothing but death do us part

--i’ve been dying to talk about this one tbh

--i just thought, what if michael and alex decided to get married right before the end of the world, and then to be even MORE dramatic, what IF they were dating other people and just break up with them and get married that same day

--basically, there is an imminent alien invasion coming, and the world is on the verge of intergalactic war, and michael realizes that he doesn’t want to die without ever having been alex’s husband, and he decides that he’s going to marry him, he just has to break up with his girlfriend first, and propose to alex, and then convince him to break up with his boyfriend, which he should do in that order, but he doesn’t exactly

4. feeling like a villain, got a hunger inside

--vampire au where michael is a vampire

--i have no excuse, i just thought, michael is a vampire who is trying to be good, but alex manes exists

--here’s a small sneak peek of this one:

Michael had been trying to be good, trying to pretend that he was satisfied with the vile, but tolerable mixture of whiskey and bagged blood, trying to be as normal as possible when he couldn’t exactly go out into the sunlight.

But it was hard to pretend when Alex was around, giving him still and thoughtful looks, like he knew there was something off about Michael, but he couldn't figure out what.

And it was only because Alex knew and Alex was willing or had been willing, once upon a time. There was nothing better in Michael’s opinion than to drink blood from someone who knew exactly what you were, and willingly put their life in your hands.

Alex figures it out when Maria puts the thick silver mug in front of Michael, pushing it over to him with a slight frown on her face. Michael swallows hard and smiles in thanks, but she’s already walking away.

They still haven’t talked since she found out the truth, but Michael can feel that she’s sort of warming up to him.

Michael looks at his mug of unappetizing blood, and slides it closer, making a face, wrinkling his nose when he feels how cold the mug is.

Michael picks it up and inhales deeply and then drinks.

He almost gags at the feel of the blood in his mouth, too thin, but at the same time too thick, almost stale tasting, only made palatable by the bite coming from the whiskey.

The whiskey makes him feel warm and tricks his mind into thinking that he’s had fresh blood, at least usually it does.

Tonight for some reason it seems like his stomach is rebelling.

Michael sets the mug down only having gotten through half of it, and he wipes his mouth before anyone can notice anything, the blood staining the back of his hand a bit red.

He swallows thickly and looks around the room to make sure that no one had noticed anything when his eyes catch Alex’s and he goes still.

Alex is looking at him like he not only knows exactly what his problem is, but also knows exactly how to fix it.

6. #theghostofchristmaspast

--the one where michael turns thirty and his twenty year old self, and forty year old self appear during a lab accident, and the one thing they both seem to have in common is the way they stare at alex manes

--three michaels and one alex sounds like the beginning of a pwp tbh

--here’s a small sneak peek:

Michael opens his eyes and his head feels like it's about to split open.

He groans as he sits up, and only knows that he's in the lab because the chair that he tries to use to help him stand up, rolls.

He manages to get to his feet eventually, and he looks around the dark room, and he vaguely remembers the lights exploding.

He groans, rubbing a hand through his hair.

Alex was going to kill him.

"What the fuck?" He hears a familiar, and yet completely unexpected voice that has him whirling around in shock.

He sees the speaker standing on the other side of the room, and there is just enough light that he can recognize the enormous brown hoodie he barely took off during the coldest nights when he was twenty.

Michael scoffs and rolls his eyes at him, “So that definitely wasn’t a drug induced nightmare then.”

“Nope,” another voice says from behind him, and Michael doesn’t have to turn around to know that there’s going to be another version of himself standing behind him, with a fuller beard and grey streaks in his hair.

“But you may want to lay off the acetone consumption, just a little.”

7. #shadowhuntersau

--where alex is a warlock and michael is a shadowhunter, and the year is 1885

--i’m actually also planning a second part to this where michael finds himself in 2018 after a portal accident, and alex is still in love with him

--i was actually working on this one for the remix fest, but then stuff and things happened, and i put it away, and then i reread it and was like, who wrote this????

--small sneak peek:

Michael stumbles back into the night table rattling the candle holder and making the flame flicker, and sputter out, plunging the room into darkness, the only light coming through the open window not doing much to brighten up the room.

But Alex doesn’t really pay attention to that as he stares at Michael letting the glamour fall from his eyes which allows him to see much better in the dark, and he can see the way that Michael's chest expands in his surprise.

Alex's eyes shine and unearthly blue, almost white, and he takes a step closer, and isn't really surprised when Michael flinches backwards, almost climbing up on the small night table.

Alex closes his eyes, pushing down the part of himself that is slightly disappointed, and he makes to move backwards, but before he can actually move however there are hands arresting his movements.

Alex’s eyes flutter open, and Michael is staring right at him, from too close to be considered anything short of intimate, eyes boring into Alex’s as he leans in closer.

He stops just shy of brushing Alex’s nose with his own, breaths hitching, eyes boring into Alex’s, something that seems to be childlike in wonder swirling in his eyes as he keeps looking at him.

Alex swallows hard, feeling like he’s frozen, and Michael moves his hands, fingers sliding across Alex’s cheeks, to brush lightly beneath his eyes.

Michael smiles, one corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other, and he breathes out, “Beautiful.”

8. the one where alex is a dreamer

--basically the only thing from trc that i took was the idea of dreamers

--an au where alex dreams up things that michael needs

--this one is for christi and christi only

--here’s a small sneak peek:

By the time the first semester is almost over, Michael Guerin is always lacking on school supplies. It's something that's become a constant to hear his voice hissing in the back of Calculus, asking to borrow a pencil.

Alex isn't very much surprised when he wakes up one morning and there is a shimmering pencil case sticking out from beneath his pillow.

Alex pushes it fully beneath the pillow and ignores it until he's getting his bag out of his closet to leave and debates whether or not to take it with him, but he already knows if he doesn't tomorrow night his subconscious won't be as subtle.

9. #projectfreelife

--this one is an au where alex gets hurt during his first tour, but instead of going to roswell, he’s recruited into project free life, a group whose main purpose is to integrate aliens into human society, he’s been working with them for a few years with his own team made up of, charlie, forrest, arizona, and steph, when they’re sent to roswell to deal with a black out they’re sure is alien in origin, since it’s the first time something that serious has happened since project shepherd was disbanded, their target, max evans

--small bonus: nora is most definitely integrated since caulfied was part of project shepherd and when it was disbanded it became a part of project free life, much to jesse’s chargrin

--small sneak peek:

"Okay," Charlie says, turning the laptop so that they both can look at it. "How do you want to do this?"

"Isobel is fully integrated, even married, and involved in various events in town," Alex starts. "So I think we should focus on Max and Michael."

Charlie nods her head along in agreement, so Alex continues hoping she agrees with that as well.

"You can take Michael and I'll-"

Charlie holds her hand up shaking her head, "No, I think I should take Max."

Her tone is serious, like she's thought this all out, and Alex frowns.

"Are you sure?" He asks, trying not to actually whine in protest.

She nods her head, "I know you went to highschool with them both, but I have a less conspicuous way to monitor him."

Alex raises an eyebrow in question.

"His partner," she says, voice tight with tension. "Jenna Cameron."

Alex gives her a look, "As in the sister you've been avoiding?"

Charlie just gives him a matching look back, "Yes. I think it's time for a little reunion, for both of us."

She presses a button, and the screen flashes to a picture that Alex has no idea how they got, of him and Michael, both holding guitars in their hands, Michael staring at Alex with a besotted expression.

"Fine," Alex says, pushing away from the bed. "We start first thing in the morning."

"Is he the reason why you haven't come back home?" Charlie asks, voice burning with curiosity, ignoring his obvious dismissal.

Alex just ignores her as he heads into the bathroom.

10. part one: the calm before the storm

--okay, i haven’t written anything but a few plot points for this one, but it’s an au where liz, kyle and alex all work for jesse (he blackmails liz by paying for her education after her scholarship falls through) as monitors integrated in the life of three suspected aliens, meaning that alex and michael are together, but they’re not living together, max and liz do live together and are engaged, and kyle and isobel are married

--think of an orphan black like situation, but with aliens instead of clones

11. #kinginwaitingmichael

--where michael is the king in waiting, but goes into a witness protection program after an assassination attempt, and he ends up falling in love with alex, who doesn’t realize that he is the king to be, until he foils another assassination attempt

--small sneak peek:

Isobel knows that they’re in trouble the first time that she sees Michael smiling at Alex.

Ever since they'd turn twelve and started their lessons on etiquette and how to act in public and with their subjects in a way that doesn't show preferences, Michael's smiles, while not unkind or fake, have always been brief or heavily sarcastic.

Michael smiles at Alex with his whole body, swaying towards him like he can't help himself, lips stretched too wide, showing all of his teeth, eyes sparkling and light..

And the most terrifying part for Isobel is that Alex doesn't act surprised or like the smile is something new.

He just blushes, a pink flush that works its way across his cheeks and down to his neck, and he smiles back at Michael, something sweet and vibrant, and places his hand over Michael's resting across the back of the booth they're sharing.

They keep talking, but mostly just stare at each other, almost like they're caught in their own little bubble, not paying attention to their surroundings or even the fact that they aren't alone.

Isobel tries to catch Michael's attention, but fails, so she reaches out with one hand, and tips over the half empty milkshake they'd been sharing.

The liquid spreads across the table and drips down the edge, landing on Alex's lap.

Alex jumps, and turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Isobel says without much sincerity, munching on the fry that she'd stolen from Michael's plate.

Alex just rolls his eyes and leans in to press a kiss to Michael's cheek.

Michael, who had been glaring at Isobel, turns a totally besotted look to Alex, all big lovesick eyes and wide grin.

"Be right back," Alex says as he slips out of the bench and away from Michael's grabby hands.

Isobel waits exactly five seconds, staring at Michael watching Alex walk away, and then she kicks him hard in the shin.

12. runaway until the last time, we're gonna lose forever

--well everyone knows this one is my sort of doctor who au that i’m writing for tove

--i just love space and time travel and malex, and just put all of that into a blender and this is what came out

--here’s a small sneak peek:

Maria takes a second to calculate in all of the ways that this Alex looks different than the one she had last seen on a cruise spaceship, and she sways, feeling lightheaded.

Alex steps forward immediately, and helps her sit back down.

“Hey, are you okay?” he starts asking. “What happened? Are you here by yourself-?”

He stops speaking as the ship’s alarm sounds, the soft purple light filling the room again.

“Emergency Protocol One, Revision Eighteen has been activated.”

Maria sees how the words affect Alex. His concerned and open expression closing down immediately, as he turns towards the console, pressing a few buttons and turning the alarm off, before he pulls up the ships video log, which Maria didn’t know existed, and she sees in reverse everything that happened.

Alex freezes the frame on Michael’s face right before he’s teleported away.

He frowns a little, and turns to Maria, “How long has it been for you? Since the Atlantis Cruise, I mean.”

Maria can see that he means the time that she’s marked in her calendar, which surprises her enough that she actually answers.

“Almost five months.”

Alex nods his head once, and then he turns back towards the console.

“Okay,” he says. “So I can trace back the signal that they used to get him, which could always lead to a dead end, but it’s early enough that they wouldn’t have moved him far. If these people are smart, they would create some type of temporal rift so that the COSMIC won’t be able to actually land at the same time that they took him. And if they know anything about him, about me, well, I’m sure they’re prepared to face an army. You know what that means?”

He says, turning to Maria who has been staring at him unblinkingly the entire time that he spoke.

“That it’s time that you meet your replacements,” he’s grinning as he says it, which takes the sting out of the words, and there is something about his eyes, that Maria can’t quite put her finger on. Something about the way that he looks at her, like to him she’s been gone for a really long time, something fond and nostalgic.

Which is kind of scary given the fact that he doesn’t look any older than thirty-five.

“You mean, the other traveling assistants?”

Alex's smile turns soft and fond, “Exactly.”

13. of guitars and hauntings

--this one is an au where michael moves into the old manes manor, that is ridiculously cheap because of rumors that it’s haunted, which turn out to be true when he gets woken up during the middle of the night by the sounds of a guitar being played in the attic, and that’s how he meets alex, who turns out to be perfect for him in every single way, except for the fact that he’s been dead for over fifty years

14. late dawns and early sunsets

--a zombie apocalypse au set to the song, early sunsets over monroeville by mcr, so v v angsty, without a happy ending, but that is par the course for zombie aus tbh

#malexsneakpeeks #this turned out into almost a full fic length #i have more written to some of these than i originally thought tbh

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bestillmyslashyheart · 4 years

Note

The soulmate thingy... 20. Malex.... 👀👀

the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you hear them say your name.

Alex wasn’t great at dealing with his emotional problems. He was well aware of his short comings in that regard. But he’d learned early and often that emotions made you weak and old habits were hard to overcome.

It’s what made his relationship with Michael so hard. No matter what he said or how hard he tried to communicate with Michael, it was never enough. Sometimes it was like they were speaking two different languages without even realizing it.

Alex had thought it would be easier.

Or, if not easier, than at least it would all work out in the end. Because that’s the way it works, right? You find your soulmate and you live happily ever after. They’d lived in the same town and gone to the same school for years before they figured it out but Alex knew from the moment his name left Michael’s lips, from the moment that heat bloomed in his chest and warmed his whole body down to his fingertips and his toes (and he would honestly swear he’d felt it in his hair), Alex had known. His father made it difficult, just as they were trying to determine how to do this, how to be together, but Alex had thought a little distance would ease those wounds. Maybe he’d put too many miles between them. Too many miles, too many times.

Michael had chosen someone else. Alex didn’t know how. The thought of making a life with someone other than Michael felt like a physical pain in his chest, he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to actually do it. But Michael had managed it. Because being with Maria, feeling that pain, was somehow less than the pain Alex put him through.

Alex had to accept that.

He had to.

He was trying to.

He really wished he’d managed it before now. He just needed more time.

“Alex!” Kyle yelled, grabbing his arm. “We have to go!” The alarms were blaring loudly but Alex could hardly hear them.

He turned quickly, his eyes catching on everyone in the room. His friends. His family. They were all poised to run, the alarms catching them off guard as they tried to raid another Project Shepherd compound. Thankfully, this one was prisoner-free so the only people who’d be caught in the explosion was them.

“Alex!” Liz yelled. She waved at the door. “Let’s go. Whatever’s on those computers isn’t worth it.” She was wrong. In the scant seconds he’d had to look them over he’d realized this was their headquarters. These computers held everything.

“Go,” he told them. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Liz huffed and grabbed his arm. Alex grabbed her wrist and looked over her head at Max. “Go,” he told him. “You need to get out of here.” Take her out of here, he didn’t say. Max seemed to hear him anyway. He held Alex’s gaze for a moment before giving him a firm nod.

“Liz,” he urged, his hand wrapping loosely around her waist before he started to tug firmly. “Alex will be right behind us. But we’ve gotta go.”

Liz wanted to protest but Rosa came up on her other side and started pushing her towards the door. “Standing around isn’t going to help anyone, Liz, let’s go!” Liz finally let Max pull her out of the room and then they were gone.

“You’re not going to catch up,” Kyle realized quietly. “You can’t,” he looked down at Alex’s leg. It was true, Alex’s window of leaving this compound alive was quickly shrinking. If he didn’t leave now, he likely wouldn’t make it to the exit.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promised anyway.

Kyle opened his mouth to object but again Rosa was there. She put both hands on her brother’s chest and shoved. “Move your ass, Valenti.” He stumbled back a few steps and then Isobel took over. She met Alex’s eyes with a wary look but she didn’t bother with pleasantries as she grabbed Kyle’s arm and pulled him after her.

Then it was only Rosa, Maria, and Michael. “You need to go,” he told them.

“No,” Michael and Maria responded immediately.

Alex looked at the screen and the progress of the file download. He wouldn’t be able to get it out of here but he should have just enough time to send it to the secure server they’d set up in their own compound. But it would be just enough.

“This place is gonna blow,” he reminded them. “You need to be clear of it before it does.”

“So do you,” Maria stepped forward and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him a little. “I will walk out of this room when you do. Not a second before.”

Alex could see her determination in her eyes. Helplessly, he looked to Michael. “Guerin, get her out of here.”

But Michael was shaking his head. “Not a chance, Alex. You come with us or we all stay.”

Once again, Rosa stepped up. She took Maria’s hand off of Alex’s shoulder. “What about Mimi?” She asked quietly. Or as quietly as she could with the alarms still going. Maria froze, her eyes slipping closed.

Alex tried to smile, tried to put on a brave face. “Go,” he urged her again. “Your mom needs you to leave.”

Maria shook her head. “I can’t just leave you here.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promised wryly. He looked past her. “Michael, please, take her out of here.” Michael froze, his eyes widening in shock and something else. “Michael!” He yelled, glancing at the clock counting down. “You all need to go!”

“Alex,” Michael breathed, that indescribable look still on his face.

Alex stared at him, trying to parse his reaction when his chest was nearly caved in by a tight hug. “You stupid, self sacrificing idiot,” Rosa muttered into his ear. “Just had to get all the attention, didn’t you?” Alex didn’t have time to respond before she was grabbing Maria’s wrist in a tight grip and literally yanking her after her as she hauled ass out of the room.

And then it was just Alex and Michael. “Dammit, Michael, you need to leave!” Alex yelled. He knew how fast Michael could move and it would be close. But he needed to leave now. The file was still downloading on the computer.

Michael pressed a hand to his chest before slowly blinking. That indescribable look slowly gave way to one of wonder. “You’re my soulmate.”

Alex stared at him. “So what?!” Alex yelled. “You have Maria. But only if you leave.” Alex pushed at Michael’s shoulders. Michael barely moved except to grab Alex’s wrists. “Michael, please, just go. I can’t have you dying in here with me.”

“You’re my soulmate,” Michael repeated.

The computer beeped loudly. The file was done. Alex shoved Michael’s behavior out of his mind and threw himself into the desk chair. It was child’s play to encrypt it with Kyle’s dad’s encryption and send it off to their own facility. It took less than a minute. Which left him, left them, with less than a minute.

Michael waited until Alex clicked enter and then spun his chair around. “You’re my soulmate,” he said for the third time, pulling Alex to his feet.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Alex asked. “It doesn’t matter. You chose Maria.”

Michael shook his head. “You said my name.”

“That’s how it works,” he agreed, confused.

“No, Alex,” Michael huffed. “Just now, you said my name.” He shook his head slightly. “You always call me Guerin. You’ve never called me Michael.”

Until just now.

Which means...

Michael didn’t know they were-

Alex felt the heat and then there was nothing.

---

Death felt a lot like the ground in the turquoise mines. Looked like it too.

“Alex?” Michael’s hands were holding Alex’s face like it was something precious. His voice was soft but rough, like he hadn’t used it in a while. There was a strange sensation on Alex’s chest and then a crushing relief swept through him. It was strange though, because it wasn’t his. Alex didn’t understand what was going on enough to feel relieved. “Alex?” Michael asked again. There were other sounds but they were distant.

“Why-” Alex coughed, his through raw. “Why do I feel like I died?” He asked. He wasn’t sure why that was his first thought but it was.

The other sounds solidified into sobbing laughs of relief. Something fell onto his chest and forced the air out of his lungs.

“Hey, careful!” He heard someone, Kyle, warn. “He’s in recovery.”

Alex forced his eyes open. Michael was kneeling on his right, his face hovering over his and his hands still on Alex’s cheeks. Maria had his left hand clutched in hers, his fingers pressed to her lips. On his chest was Liz in some semblance of a hug though he couldn’t reciprocate.

“What happened?” He coughed.

“You accidentally saved your own ass,” Rosa grinned from behind Maria. “Michael somehow protected both of you from the explosion, well,” she stopped and considered, “most of it?” She shrugged. “You were about 95% dead there for about two weeks. Turns out aliens with human soulmates get some nifty power boosts. Everything Michael needed to know to save your life was in those files you saved from the compound.”

“And I feel like shit because...?”

Max and Isobel laughed. “Healing isn’t Michael’s forte?” Isobel offered. “Max almost killed himself again healing Michael. He didn’t have enough juice for you too so we had to wait until Michael could figure it out.”

Max stepped forward and gently nudged Maria and Liz out of the way. He didn’t bother asking Michael to move as he placed his hand on Alex’s chest. He initially put it right over Michael’s handprint but both Michael and Alex moved it before he could do anything. Max didn’t say a word before healing the rest of Alex’s aches and bruises. In a moment, Alex felt as good as new and thankfully, Max’s mark paled in comparison to Michael’s.

“Better?” Max asked, sitting back on his heels. He accepted the acetone Liz shoved at him but didn’t take a sip yet. “All I’m good for right now is the small stuff.”

Alex pulled himself into a sitting position, softly knocking Michael’s hands away from his face as he did. “Yeah,” he leaned sideways into Michael. “Much. Thanks.”

Max smiled. “Anytime.”

He stood up only for Maria and Liz to get right back in Alex’s face. “If you ever do something like that again,” Liz started off.

“Don’t,” Maria finished with a hard look. “You don’t get to be the hero, okay? Been there, done that, leave it to someone else next time.”

Alex smiled tiredly. “Okay.” They all knew he was lying but Maria and Liz accepted it and crushed him in a joint hug. He would’ve fallen back onto the ground if Michael hadn’t held him up.

“Okay,” Michael tried to pull Alex free of their grip. “That’s enough.”

Liz glared at him playfully but did loosen her grip. She and Maria fell back and helped Michael get him to his feet. Once he was vertical, Kyle stepped in with his crutches. “You good?” He asked softly, his eyes searching Alex’s face. Alex only nodded but it was enough. “Good,” Kyle nodded. “Now. As your doctor, I am prescribing a lot of rest. And talking. Because apparently you suck at it.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “We’re not talking about this.”

“I don’t know,” Isobel drawled. “We’ve done a lot of talking about it already.”

Alex nailed her with a hard stare. “Glad I was dead for that.”

“95% dead,” Rosa corrected. “This town’s only big enough for one zombie and it isn’t you.” She hugged him far more gently than she had before the compound went up. “Don’t be such an idiot next time, yeah?”

Alex didn’t bother replying and soon enough Michael was shooing everyone out ahead of them so they could make their way to the truck at Alex’s much slower pace.

“So,” Alex asked as they pulled away from the mines. “You all did a lot of talking?”

Michael hummed. “Mostly about how you never mentioned we were soulmates.”

Alex looked at him. “I didn’t think it was a secret. It never occurred to me that you didn’t know.”

“So you thought this whole time that I wanted to be with someone else over my own soulmate?” Michael grip tightened on the wheel but he didn’t look over at Alex.

“We aren’t good for each other,” Alex parroted. “You wanted to be good for someone.”

Michael rubbed at his chest. “It hurts just to think about now.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “I know.”

Michael finally looked at him. “You know how this feels and you still thought I wanted someone else.”

“You did want someone else,” Alex reminded him. “And you said it yourself, all I did was hurt you. Wasn’t a crazy idea that I hurt you more than that did,” he nodded at where Michael still rubbed his chest.

“Okay,” Michael said slowly, his hand returning to the wheel. “I think we need to get some truths out into the open.” Alex started to say something but Michael kept going. “We’re soulmates. I love you. We hurt each other. We can be better.”

Alex didn’t say anything. “We can be better,” he repeated. He wasn’t going to touch the other thing. “Because we have to be? Because now you finally realize we don’t have any other options?”

Michael stopped the car. “Because I love you,” repeated. “And you loved me.” He turned to Alex, his hand not letting go of the steering wheel.

“I do love you,” Alex told him. “But that hasn’t stopped us from hurting each other.”

“Do you want us to do better? To be better?”

“Yes,” Alex answered honestly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do for months. And I still seem to end up hurting you.” He and Michael had cobbled together a strange friendship over the past few months. If it was anyone else, Alex wouldn’t be able to call it a friendship, more some awkward combination of colleague and antagonist with a side of shared friend group forcing social interactions. But it was Michael and it was all they had so Alex counted it. What it wasn’t was something to build off of.

“So let’s be better,” Michael ignored the second half of his response. “Be good for me. Let me be good for you.”

Alex held his eyes for a long moment. A car flew past them with a harsh honk of his horn but neither one of them even blinked. “What about Maria?”

“She’s not my soulmate,” Michael answered immediately. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

#malex fic #rnm #my fic #long post #ok first this was in fact the prompt i really wanted to do so thank you very very much for sending it to me #and second...i originally ended it at the read more #you're welcome for not doing that #Anonymous

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spookyboogie3 · 4 years

Text

MY FAVORITE AH MOMENTS W/O R*an H*yw**d

Also keep in mind some of these moments i picked Bitch Face r*an may have been present for but this aint about his stupid ass.

The straw bit on Off Topic

Fiona and Trevor’s “Look at us” “Look at us” “Look at us” in TTT

Drunk Jeremy inhaling helium, followed by Jack and Trevor on Off Topic

“Krusty KrAYAYAB!!!” TTT

Jeremy trying to slam his face through a table, followed by Michael doing the same thing

“my god…… the munchdew” “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” Minecraft: Skyfactory

Actually all of Simple Farmer Geoff from Skyfactory

Whatever those sounds were that Jack was making in the beginning of GTA video

Alfredo screaming as he continues to fall down a steep tube in a GTA race

DESTROYING THEIR OFFICE DEAR LORD

“How did he drown though?” “UNDERWATER, MATT!”

Anytime Fiona starts to RAGE in TTT (bonus if others join in)

The time Gav was the phantom in TTT and he kept dying and being brought back and Jack spitting water and then trying to catch it

Alfredo’s Magoo moments in Minecraft

Geoff laughing in the background of a video hes not in

Lindsay fucking around with Chef Mike on Harecore Minigolf

Lindsay fucking around in general

Gavin and Fiona playing Animal Crossing and laughing at the stupidest shit

The Fish Tempura incident on Wheel of Fortune

Lindsay’s reasoning for why her and Michael should have 4 kids

Geoff’s fucking ad reads (my favorite is 23&Me)

The whole thing during Push the Button where everyone especially Michael gets mad at Fiona because she said the best candy to get while trick or treating was lollipops

Matt’s fucking desk in the corner of the room

Anytime Millie is in a video

Everyone falling off the pink ladder during TTT and dying repeatedly because of it

Alfredo “the two-time champ” Diaz dying very early in YDYD 3

Gavin and Michael fucking up almost every game they play on Play Pals

RAY OR NO and then RAY OR NAY on Off Topic

Reddit Roasts Geoff

Gavin asking if someone could kill 20 cows with their bare hands and the proceeding so say he could rip out a cow’s veins by reaching into its neck

Ify’s narration during Let’s Roll Ave Caesar

The internet losing its shit when Jeremy shaved his head years ago

“We need a knife” Gavin comes back with a hammer

Griffin chain sawing the Off Topic table up

“How do I put the boat in the water??” “Right click you animal”

As of 2020, 8 years of playing Minecraft, certain people still do not know how to play the basics of this fucking game.

Honestly it took over 200 episodes for some of them to figure out how the compass worked. You know after they decided that the sun was setting in the wrong direction. (this was in 2016??)

Flynt coal still is a joke they make

So is Day 2

Whatever happened in that GTA lets play where someone called a mugger or a hit on someone and the game glitched and 50 guys showed up and lined up on the street below from where they were playing

Anytime Gavin gets mugged, it’s an old running gag but it’s a classic

The time a mugger fucking started driving the fire truck away after mugging Gavin with Michael and Jeremy still in the truck thinking the other is driving and it takes them like 2 minutes to realize what happened while Gavin’s yelling “come back”

They got a water jug and immediately started water boarding each other

“It pinged and went dingle”

“Hey Trey-Boi” “Hey Gay-Boi” Immediately realizes what he has said

Jeremy’s website puns

(OLD) Ray jerking off in the corner during a let’s play

(OLD) the world in Minecraft never loading and everyone screaming about as Geoff says its fine for him

Jeremy’s “I AM MONSTER TRUCK”

Jack taking AH to Disney……in Minecraft

On Twitter, Gavin asked about recommendations for a computer mouse and Fiona starts sending him pictures of actual mice.

“Its not ghey, if its on the moon”

Literally anything Fiona does as Po

Jeremy saying the heterosexual flag is boring

UNO THE MOVIE!

Geoff fucking cackling the whole time.

“here’s looking at you kid”

the video was almost 3 hours long

“you know what my favorite color is? blue” “oh really? You know what my favorite hand is? Yours

They all want it to end but no one wants to lose and so they fuck each other and that prolongs the game. Also they put on more rules, so they just keep getting more cards if they don’t have a card to match the previous

Alfredo saying he won’t participate in ghost hunter because he knows what happens to people of color in horror movies

Fiona walking in on Off Topic with a protein shake and Gavin asks if shes drinking milk and she says without missing a beat “ah no that’s cum” and everyone laughed not expecting the answer

(OLD) “SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER” *falls in hole*

(OLD) Ray and Gav running in a panel dressed as X-Ray and Vav and Ray running the whole way around the room before he got to the stage

Duck taping Jeremy to the wall

(OLD) All of Minecraft Episode 3 Plan G (This was the very first AH video I watch and why I know who they are)

Geoff and Gav creating Achievement City and giving everyone houses just to prank Jack into burning house down with lava.

Ray’s house is a dirt block with no furniture and single torch

Geoff’s giant ass house next to Ray’s tiny house

Jack tries to destroy everything with lava throughout the episode

“lets be honest, I realistically didn’t lose anything”

Michael stealing art from Gav’s house “NOO! I want nice things”

The sign to Michael’s says “Awaiting Approval, Awaiting Approval, Awaiting Approval” he runs into house and say “I’m home”

Ray also steals this sign at some point

Plan G – The failsafe.

“Oh whats this? Is this a button? Whats this? (pushes button) Yeah it was a button”

“Did you push the button?”

“Yeah”

“okay”

“wh-what does it do?”

“uh…”

Cue Achievement City beginning to explode as Michael starts screaming

Rays reaction “NO, MY SHITTY HOUSE JUST GOT EVEN SHITTIER!”

Not something funny but something VERY IMPORTANT. AH admitting that they all fucked up and how shitty their behavior was when dealing with harassment in the fanbase. People were racist, sexist, homophobic, misogynistic, and just downright horrible to a lot of the employees at RT and AH. This came up after Mica Burton left the company and talked about it publicly and how nothing was done about it. Fiona who also experiences these same things, along with Lindsay and other employees, but Fiona took the charge on the Off Topic talking about people can’t continue to get away with that behavior. She got to sound off her feelings to a group of white men who all respected her and LISTENED to what was saying and how she felt. She cried; Geoff cried. They all want to do more, so this doesn’t happen in the future and they’re not tolerating the racist and horrible comments. AH taking a mature moment to talk about how they failed to stop these comments and Geoff was right when he said the company has a long way to go.

Outside of AH each member has more to them than just all of the comedy and laughs and dumb shit they do

Geoff helped found Roosterteeth and Achievement Hunter. He has a beautiful daughter in Millie who is awesome in her own right. He’s a recovering alcoholic. Currently doing F**k Face podcasts. Was in the fucking army. Takes accountability for every mistake he makes.

Jack also helped start Achievement Hunter. He does so much work for charity. His twitter is full of things to help people go vote. He’s like the dad to AH, especially Fiona. He’s happily married to his wife Caiti.

Michael was an electrician and has a lot of handy man experience. He made a few videos online about him raging at games and that got the attention of RT. He’s currently married to Lindsay who he met because of RT. They have two kids together.

Gavin is an expert at high speed filmmaking and know how use and edit footage from a slow-motion camera. He has worked on actual films. One of the creators of the Slow Mo Guys. Worked his ass off to get to work for RT. Currently dating model and cosplayer Meg Turney

Lindsay flips between being the mom of the group and a complete chaos queen and we all love her for it. She started as an editor for the RT podcast and then AH stuff. She is an incredible voice actor, most known for Ruby Rose (RWBY), Space Kid (Camp Camp), Hilda (Xray & Vav) just to name a few. She also has a degree in finance

Jeremy started as a fan who made videos on the community page. He took over Ray’s place after Ray left to do Twitch full time. He is a self-published author and a skilled rapper and singer. He’s currently married to his wife, Kat.

Matt also started as a fan making videos on the community page. He actually interacted and made stuff for the guys in really early Minecraft episodes. Seriously this guy is like king of Minecraft. He has a degree in electrical engineering. He also has pretty decent singing voice.

Trevor is THE BOSS. Has a degree in aero-space engineering and is getting paid to babysit AH. Currently dating Barbara Dunkelman, RTs queen of puns.

Alfredo worked at IGN before RT and is a well-known streamer. He is the best when it comes to first person shooter games. He and Trevor look so similar.

Fiona. Po. Her majesty. Host of This Just Internet. A Twitch streamer. Baby of the bunch. Grew up in Europe. Her and Gav act like a pair of siblings. She has stated and showed time and time again she will fight for people to have safe spaces for anyone who needs them.

Ify, our new guy. He is wonderful and I want to stay forever. He’s a comedian, a writer, and an actor. Co hosts F-ing Around with Fiona. Has his own film podcast, Who Shot Ya? I look forward to more content with him in it, cause everything he’s been in so far has been great.

Were all hurting but well make it through this

We have all these wonderful moments and a lot more that I didn’t list and this incredible team of personalities with their own accomplishments and achievements. Not to mention old team members who were also great additions and the entire crew behind the scenes editing and making videos look the best that they can.

Here’s to Achievement Hunter and to this community. We need to be here for each other in times like these.

@theonyxranger gave me the idea for this based on their own post they made about the fans giving their favorite moments without bitch face and there were just too many. Oop.

#Achievement Hunter #Jack Pattillo #Gavin Free #geoff ramsey #michael jones #lindsay jones #alfredo diaz #trevor collins #fiona nova #jeremy dooley #matt bragg #ify nwadiwe #roosterteeth #yes im calling him bitch face now

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cosmiceverafter · 4 years

Text

The Pieces Want to Be Together

Pairing: Alex Manes/Michael Guerin

Characters in this chapter: Alex Manes; Michael Guerin; Gregory Manes; Isobel Evans; (mentions of Flint & the Scooby Squad).

Rating: T

Words in chapter: 2k

Read on ao3

Ch.1/Ch.2

**Content Warning for this chapter: mention & slight evidence of torture/abuse during a kidnapping; blood warning; minor violence; mention of death (no character deaths). None of these are graphic.**

Summary: Day 3: | REUNION | faith, loyalty, optimism, resilience.

A/N: A lot of what I wrote, is speculation for the episodes to come for the rest of this season. It also shows my hope that Gregory Manes is in fact a good guy and Flint Manes can be redeemed.

I hope you enjoy the last chapter of this fic for Missing Alex Manes Weekend! I really enjoyed writing something that was a bit different for me. But you should always know, with angst will always come to a happy ending full of hope. Thank you for reading!

To you Alex Manes: I love you very much.

Ch. 3: Fit Together with You

Alex flutters his eyes open, feeling a searing slash of pain from his head.

All he sees is darkness. He is unable to make out any features around him.

Where am I?

Trying to make sense of everything, he calculates strategically the surrounding area.

Why would someone want… him? Was he getting a bit too close to something? Did this have to do with the aliens of 1947? Did this have to do with Michael?

His hands are bound, but he tries to feel the ground. Cold hard pavement.

He will find a way out. He owes it to himself and the love he has for Michael.

Alex will not go without a fight.

***

Michael thought he understood fear after a lifetime of hopelessness. But fear was finally understood when Alex Manes was gone.

Alex had been kidnapped, and his brain had short-circuited any reason or patience.

When he had been searching location after location without a trace, that was when the fear settled in as well as the realization he couldn't lose Alex.

This human boy had taught him so much, not just what love truly meant, but learning about who he was and what he wanted from this life here on earth.

He fell in love early on with Alex in high school, staring constantly at the way Alex’s eyes fluttered when he got into his music. He was so talented and Michael admired him from a distance for so long.

But Alex had offered not only a safe haven to call his own, but his heart as well.

Michael for the first time in his life felt what having a family could feel like.

The two of them had made mistakes, more times than he could possibly count, but they kept coming back to one another in a way cosmic lovers would.

Alex was the shooting star in his night sky and together they made the constellation of peace, love, and hope.

It was the melody he had heard every single time Alex had played on his guitar. Quite honestly, it was the most moving moment of his life.

These were the thoughts that swirl in Michael’s mind as he searches all of Roswell. He would travel to heaven and hell to find one simple clue to Alex's well being.

After hours of nothing, he receives a phone call. It’s Gregory Manes.

***

Bright lights shine in his eyes, and Alex swallows, “Who are you?”

There is shuffling and Alex knows there are multiple people around him. He can’t make out faces but he can see figures standing around.

Finally, a deep unfamiliar voice says, “You’ll know in time. This is for the greater good.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We know who you are, Alex Manes, and who you associate with. That is, what you associate with. We will have answers.”

So this was about aliens.

Alex isn't clear on much of this situation, but one thing is crystal clear: He will protect Michael Guerin with his last dying breath.

***

Michael had always been right about Gregory Manes. He was the next best Manes after Alex.

The guy was good. He cared about his younger brother, more than even Michael had realized. He didn’t fit the mold that Jesse had once created for their last name.

Gregory had also found out Alex was missing when he had come to visit Roswell. He too had entered Alex’s house and went on his own search when he had seen the evidence of a struggle.

Apparently, he had inquired information from their other brother Flint, who wasn’t always the guy you’d want watching your back. But Michael also thought there was more to Flint than meets the eye.

After hours of figuring information out, they had all come to terms with the fact this wasn’t Jesse’s doing, much to all their surprise.

It was another puzzle Michael realized, that he didn’t know how to fit back together. Story of his life.

***

They ask questions; he doesn’t answer.

He’s hit, repeatedly; he’s had worse.

They press further; he doesn’t cry out.

Their frustration grows; he stands his ground.

They use fear and hate; he uses resilience and love.

***

Michael refuses to give up, he can't.

His phone rings and he looks down. It’s Isobel now.

“Iz?”

“It’s Alex.”

“I know...I’ve been searching for him with Greg,” Michael says as his eyes fill with tears. No use trying to stop them. “We can’t find him. Anywhere.”

He looks at Alex’s brother who is now driving his truck, and his brother looks as solemn as he feels.

“Michael, listen to me!” Isobel exclaims on the other side, “I know where Alex is!”

***

Alex’s whole body aches and he finally lets a moan escape his lips. He’s not sure how much more he can handle. He’s tough, but hell, he’s only human after all.

Whatever these things are...he's not entirely sure they are human. However, feeling delirious will do that to a person. He can no longer make sense of it all.

It’s been hours, and Michael never leaves his mind.

Michael is his anchor that keeps him tethered to his strength; it keeps him grounded and sane. He’s grateful even though his alien isn’t even there.

Truthfully though, Michael is always with him.

It all seems so trivial now; their arguments the inability to connect through the pain.

If only they both had foreseen this future, maybe they would have communicated what they had wanted so much sooner.

Being at rock bottom will do that to a person though. Your regrets, your mistakes, all of it, comes crashing into you like a current in the ocean.

These thoughts stay in Alex's mind. He realizes he probably won’t make it through the night. But at least he will go knowing he didn’t budge; he kept Michael’s identity and whereabouts hidden, as well as his pod siblings.

Some things are worth dying for.

As he allows himself to lean against the wall and close his swollen eyes, he hears a commotion outside the cold dark room he’s kept in.

There is yelling, a boom, and screaming.

He can’t make sense of it; he doesn’t have the energy to even try.

But that’s when he hears it, the most beautiful sound in the world.

Michael’s voice.

He found me, Alex realizes as he finally breaks. The tears run down his cheeks as he succumbs to darkness.

***

Isobel, that brilliant-not-by-blood-sister of his, was right! She had given them a location, something that she had seen when she had gone to Alex’s house.

Isobel had touched the floor where Alex had fallen, and that’s when she had a vision. The warehouse had been clearer than the light of day, and she explained it perfectly.

It was miles out of Roswell, but luckily, Michael knew exactly the one. He had driven past it many times over the years.

Gregory is by his side as they enter the location. Michael does not see who the people are that took Alex because their faces are covered, but that doesn’t stop him from throwing them against the walls. Hard.

Michael knows he's probably just given away his identity. He just doesn't care.

His anger is unmatched at this moment.

Gregory stops and looks at him with a look of shock, but Michael just shrugs and keeps on moving. There is no time to talk about the “what are you and where did you come from?” speech.

Unfortunately, whoever they are, escape quickly, but his number one mission and priority is to find Alex.

They will be dealt with later, that much is certain. A vow of his for the mere fact that they ever thought they could touch Alex Manes.

Gregory yells at him to come over and he sees a locked door against the metal wall. Gregory gives Michael the look with a bit of hesitation.

Michael opens it easily with his powers and scopes out the room quickly.

Alex.

His stomach falls as he sees Alex crumpled in the corner of the small room. Michael almost collapses, but Gregory steadies him.

Alex’s brother rushes over to his younger brother’s side, clearly checking for a pulse.

Michael has never felt this before. Before when trying to find Alex, he was on a mission. But this… this is different. If Alex is not okay, Michael will not make it. He knows this to be true. They are too connected and intertwined.

He won’t survive that type of pain.

So he’s stuck. Unmoving. He literally cannot breathe.

“He has a pulse,” Gregory calls out, which adds faith and hope back into Michael’s life. “It’s weak though. We have to get him to a doctor.”

“Valenti,” Michael replies, still scared to see Alex and the damage they caused the love of his life. “Kyle Valenti. He’ll help.”

“Here,” Gregory exclaims as he rushes over, “let me talk to him.” Michael punches in the number for the good Doctor and gives his phone to Greg. The guy looks over at Alex, and his eyes are full of sadness, “Go be with him. He needs you, Michael.”

Gregory leaves the room for a moment and Michael can hear him talking to Kyle.

Slowly, as if in a dream...a nightmare, Michael walks over to Alex.

He bends down and starts to cry instantly as he takes in Alex. All the emotions he has felt searching for Alex and the horrific outcome of this reality is too much.

The bruises are all over Alex. He’s swollen and bloody. Not Alex. God, no. Not to Alex….

Michael lifts Alex’s hand up gently and sees damage there as well. “I’m so sorry, Alex.” He cannot stop crying. The heavy sobs leave his body as he trembles uncontrollably. Michael realizes he’s not just crying because of what happened to Alex, he’s sorry for the way he has treated Alex over the last few months. He took Alex for granted and now here his love is, broken and in pieces right before him. “I’m so damn sorry.”

He bends down and kisses Alex’s battered forehead. That’s when Alex moans. He squeezes Alex’s hand softly, “Alex! Alex, I’m here. I’m here. I won’t leave...I’ll never leave you again.”

Alex squeezes his hand back.

***

It takes Alex a while to heal, but luckily with the help of Kyle, Michael, and his friends, he makes progress every single day.

It's both mental and physical healing he needs and that in itself, takes time.

The group continues digging deeper to try to figure out who took him. It’s nice to see everyone working together for a change. He’s wanted that for some time. Maybe that was the good of being taken after all; they stopped taking each other for granted.

As far as Michael, he never leaves his side. That gesture doesn’t annoy him though, if anything, it’s beyond comforting and welcoming.

Neither of them is walking away. They prove that more and more each day.

Michael is generous and gives him space and time, not expecting anything. It means so much to him.

But he does give Alex several hugs a day; clinging on to him tightly as if to make sure Alex is real. Alex gets his strength from Michael every time.

They finally have their breakfast and open up about it all, even the parts that hurt. But that was the point of healing, true healing. In doing that, they break the barriers of their cycle once created.

Their talk wasn't a one-time thing either; they talk for weeks and weeks, sometimes going late into the nights. The nights where they make each other laugh, are Alex's favorite. He realizes that even though during their time apart when they weren't together, they had been building that friendship all along.

Sometimes during these chats, he catches Michael just staring at him, and he can’t help but smile. Their love has only grown. Deeper than even he could have imagined it would.

One sunny morning, he decides to finish the song he has been working on. Alex is staying at the cabin that Jim left him. It offers peace and solace, especially if Michael is there. Which he is, always.

Alex smiles as he pulls his guitar out of the black case. It's funny how an object can cause so much joy. The gift of music was just that, a gift.

As he holds the guitar in his hands for the first time in a while, he closes his eyes from the comfort it brings. His fingers sometimes still ache, but he plays anyway.

He plays the trauma he grew up with, the pain, and the sorrow, but also the resilience and the strength to rise from the ashes. He adds the hope, faith, and love that Michael has brought into his life. The joy of friendship and unity as he sees his friends smiling back at him. And most importantly, he plays the love he feels for himself and the growth he has made, with a nod of gratitude in Forrest’s direction.

It is the melody of his life. The melody that makes him...Alex.

“That was so beautiful,” he hears softly behind him as he finishes.

Alex looks over to see Michael beautifully leaning against the doorframe holding two cups of coffee, his curls tousled from sleep.

“I hope I didn’t wake you, I know it’s early.”

Michael shakes his head, “Nah, it's the best alarm clock there is actually.” He walks over barefoot on the wooden porch and hands Alex a mug.

He sits down and looks at Alex with a genuine loving smile, “Truthfully though. It might’ve been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard you play.”

“Thanks,” Alex replies with a smile of his own. “I’ve been working on it for…well, a very long time now.”

“Is it finished?” Michael asks. Alex looks deeper into those hazel eyes. Not for the first time around the guy, hope fills him up like a balloon. “I think it’s just the beginning of a very special story actually.”

Michael nods and takes Alex’s hand softly. “I hope to hear each chapter of that story then.”

Alex moves Michael’s healed hand to his lips and kisses it gently, “You are and will always be a huge part of this story, Michael. The story is a part of us.”

“You always have a way with words, Alex Manes.”

The words he has wanted to say every day are right there. They are the only words that truly matter when it comes to the alien sitting next to him, “Speaking of words, there are a few more important ones I need to say to you.”

Michael smiles once more as he leans in closer to Alex, “Please, tell me.”

Alex takes in this moment, never looking back, “I love you, too.”

Tears fill both of their eyes as they come together as those two pieces of their puzzle, finally fitting together as one as they kiss.

The missing piece was there all along.

Hope was the melody that would always bring their love home.

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