#I don't know why! It's not like I forgot! Details just fuzzy enough to feel like novelty again I guess lol ♪ I'll take it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theladykassia · 21 hours

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Blurb: Sam makes your latte and accidentally confesses

Content: no triggers, just fluff. This idea came to me as I added an obscene amount of mini marshmallows to my own coffee.

Sam Monroe was working at a coffee shop during summer to earn some extra cash for a concert he wants to go. You guys aren't exactly friends but you always smile his way whenever the opportunity presents itself. You also made it a habit to go to said cafe because 'they make the best latte there', but honestly? You just want to see your favorite emo boy. You didn't even know the place existed before a friend of yours mentioned seeing Sam.

They had joked about the way Sam seemed angry at having to treat people nicely there. Or maybe it was the fact that he had to wear an apron.

You had to see it for yourself, so you went one day. And then the next... And then the next. Soon enough it became your favorite place.

It doesn't matter how hard Sam tries to give off this 'I don't give a fuck about you or anything else' vibe, the truth is that he's a total sweetheart— well, once you dig deep enough at least. The more you spoke to him, the more you learned about him. Even when he acts annoyed at how bubbly you're being, your sweet, innocent smile, is enough to warm his whole chest, you're just that cute! He's not used to people being so nice to him all the time, and you're always trying to talk to him. Complimenting him on his fashion choices or trying to talk about your few shared interests.

Sam would notice every little detail about you, and how could he not? You went almost daily to the coffee shop. He quickly learns exactly how to make your latte. The temperature, how strong it was, how much sugar to add.

It doesn't take too long for the poor guy to develop a crush on you. But this is Sam Monroe, talking about his feelings and being vulnerable isn't his strongest suit.

He ends up learning how to make some simple latte art, a skill he doesn't particularly use often. But it's the reason why you found out that the guy was crushing on you.

This particular day you were in a hurry, so you make your order and request that is served in a disposable cup and not a mug. Sam made sure to heat up the milk to the exact temperature you like. The only difference is that this time, he made a heart with the foam and slapped a cap on it almost instantly, giving the cup to you with an uninterested look.

“Here. It's hot so don't be stupid and drink slowly. Already put the sugar in it.”

You smile sweetly, rolling your eyes with humor as you put a few dollars in the tip jar. “Thank you, Sam. You make the best coffee here, y'know? I'm gonna miss you when you quit.”

The comment makes him want to smile, but he shrugs instead. Sam bites his lip to prevent the smirk that was about to happen from forming.

“Whatever, that's what I get paid to do... It's not like it took any real effort to make it,” he says with a tone that suggested he was bored. But that's the thing, he did put his best effort into it. "And you'll be fine.”

You smile again, not being bothered by his bratty tone. You know it's nothing against you, that Sam always did that to people. You figured it was just the way he was, or that it was some sort of defense mechanism. You also heard him when he said he already added the sugar, but you always like to see how foamy your latte is, so imagine your surprise when you remove the cap and find the shape of a heart, it obviously wasn't an accident. Your eyes met with a very flustered and blushy version of Sam.

“W-why the hell did you do that! I told you it had sugar already, damn!” he complains, furiously wiping the countertop that was pretty much squeaky clean before he began 'cleaning it'. You had never seen Sam so red and embarrassed before. It was adorable, and it was making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

You giggle, what else were you supposed to do? At this point you forgot how late you were to your own job. You wanted to take a picture of the coffee, but you didn't want to torture him any more.

“But... But it's so pretty, Sammy!” you praise, biting your lip shyly. “I really like it.”

The mix of you praising him, biting your lip and then giving him a nickname made Sam groan, his face getting even redder than before.

“W-whatever, it doesn't mean anything.” He grumbles, briefly looking at you. “... Unless you want it to mean something.” he adds, not being able to stop himself. Sam cringes at his own words, afraid that he only made a fool of himself. Not to be dramatic, but he felt like he could quit just because of this. “Well?”

You were not used to making bold moves like this, but you reach over the countertop for the marker he had on his apron. Sam frowned at the action, but kept watching you with curiosity.

Taking one of the flyers they had at the counter, you wrote your number on the back and handed both things to Sam.

“I'm a simple girl, I'm fine with watching a movie and grabbing some burgers afterwards” you give him one last smile before leaving the cafe. He had no excuses, you gave him your number and a first date idea. You even took the pressure of planning out the whole thing off of him. Now all you had to do was wait, and you had a feeling that he would be reaching out to you soon.

You smile big, looking down at the heart in your cup. You had a really good feeling about this, you just hope you're right.

#can he please be my boyfriend?#i'd treat him so good #hayden christensen x reader #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x you #sam monroe fluff #sam monroe headcanon #sam monroe #kassia writes ・☾・#sam monroe imagine #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen imagine

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sysig · 10 months

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If your eye causes you to [fear], pluck it out (P1 | P2 | P3 | B) (Patreon)

#Doodles #SCII #NEJ #Captain Sterling #Blood #Body horror #(I'll put the spoilers further down in the tags so if you'd rather wait to read all the way through first just ignore these for now)#Hey it's not spooky season yet! What the heck!#NEJ got me bad I super didn't expect it but thinking about his scopophobia exploded my brain #I don't know why! It's not like I forgot! Details just fuzzy enough to feel like novelty again I guess lol ♪ I'll take it #It was a fun concept to play in :D I guess I've never really thought about it but I do actually enjoy eye horror? :0 #I have for a while when I look back at it I just never put the name to it haha #Poor Sterling haha he's only had a few sets to himself and then I do this to time - well he seems fine! Lol #Well maybe not Completely fine there's something weird about him hmm ♪#[Spoilers starting] I know Sterling hasn't had a lot of screentime so far but I can tell you this isn't how he'd normally talk #He /is/ still a human Captain so take from that what you will - he has some of his own mannerisms - at least enough to be recognizable #But there's something Not Quite Right about him besides the obvious lol #No he hasn't been possessed but he is Something of a puppet at the moment :3 How we appear to others through their own lense and all that #This is NEJ's interpretation of Sterling through his VUX frame hehe - probably not difficult to guess but NEJ isn't having a fun time of it #How might his fears manifest inside his mind? /And/ the opportunity for horror and blood? How could I resist?#[/Spoilers]#I really am quite pleased with how it turned out :D I initially intended for it to be a Scratch comic but then it kept turning out pretty!#I especially like the panel of Sterling leaning towards him and NEJ leaning away with his head tendrils up ah <3 #His expression is intentionally hidden but you can still tell what he's feeling! Large and fearful! ♥#I also rather like Sterling's first panel of his eyes missing I think the toning came out particularly nice there :)#The guilt of putting my lads through Things is always outweighed by how fun it is to do so haha

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alfiely-art · 6 months

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Welcome to my Big Mikoto Kayano Analysis

Basically, I fully believe that Mikoto is the murderer. Not John, not an alter. Mikoto himself. I'll be presenting evidence and such below the cut, but I would like to preface this all with a disclaimer: I'm pretty sure I don't have DID, and while I've researched it quite a bit, sometimes research is wrong or the research isn't enough. If I get something wrong about it, please let me know! I will try my best not to be, but I'm only human. However, this analysis won't focus a whole lot on his DID? If that makes sense. Now, onto the post.

After examining Undercover, Mikoto's trial 1 & 2 voice dramas, MeMe, and Double, I'm fairly confident that Mikoto is the one who killed.

First off, in Undercover:

In Mikoto's main section of the song, the shots that linger have Mikoto looking unsure of himself, and deep in thought as he sings about how he's done nothing wrong. In the beginning of his first Voice Drama, too, he's quietly questioning why he's been brought here- if Es hadn't interrupted, I think he would've been trying to convince himself that he didn't do anything. Sort of like a few lines in MeMe.

Probably. Probably. Probably.

Mikoto isn't sure. The chorus asks Es, and us viewers, to really look at him- to look at him, fully, and to try to see that he's a good person, that he doesn't belong in Milgram. He asks Es to do this in his first Voice Drama, as well.

Mikoto wants confirmation that he didn't do anything wrong. Es mentions that it's possible Mikoto forgot the memory of him killing someone as a way to cope with the stress of it. As someone who suffers quite a bit from that, it can feel as though there's something just under the surface that you can't see. You know that something happened, but you can't figure out what. You can't remember. Maybe you don't want to remember.

I think Mikoto is suffering from that, as well.

Now, in the Trial 2 Voice Drama, John has stated that he's the murderer, not Mikoto. Quite a few times. He also asks us to look at Mikoto fairly, just like Mikoto himself did back in Trial 1.

But John doesn't remember the details of the murder, either. He says it's fuzzy. He can't even tell us how many, or their identities. Of course, he also adds that he had just split from Mikoto, but... why? What caused it? Neither Mikoto nor John have been able to point to what caused the split- John says he was born to protect Mikoto, but from what?

Well, you may have seen the theory going around that Mikoto was being stalked. And honestly? I agree.

From all of the tv-recording imagery in MeMe, the countless eyes in Double (there was so many I don't even think it's necessary to screenshot), how his first assumption was that Milgram was a TV show and he was being monitored... being watched without consent is definitely something Mikoto is worried about. Being stalked is extremely stressful. Plus, Mikoto most likely works at a company that overworks him.

This is from Undercover. And, in Double, there's a person called "Chief" texting generally dismissive and rude things to Mikoto before he calls. So, I think it's safe to say that the stalking theory and the bad workplace theory are correct- or, if it isn't stalking, it could also be symbolic of how society is always watching, and how you have to act properly or you'll get in trouble. Which, of course, is stressful too. However, I think it's moreso supposed to hint at stalking. Now, I have to wonder if both of these things are further connected. Maybe a coworker/superior was stalking him. That could make sense, though I won't claim its definite- we don't really have any evidence.

Despite John saying that Mikoto would have reached his limit if he hadn't been born, I think Mikoto DID reach his limit, and THATS why John was born. Mikoto killed, and John was born to help him get through it. Honestly, I don't think John killed anyone at all. Yes, John is aggressive in plenty of cases, but I think he simply feels it's the best way to protect Mikoto.

Now, I have run out of space for more images, so I will continue this post in a reblog in just a moment. I'd like to go more into proof that Mikoto is the culprit, John's characterization, and also how this all is affecting my voting.

#milgram #analysis #mikoto kayano #john kayano #project milgram #mikoto #john #kayano #theory #milgram analysis #milgram theory #orekoto #bokukoto #bokuto

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hyperfixation-or-death · 3 months

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headcanon for the kids' concepts of their own ages during the time immediately following the finale:

Post-finale, there was exactly one instance of Victor being unsure of how old he technically is. He regrets letting that slip, partially because of how concerned everyone looked, partially because Sam wouldn't drop the issue despite Victor very much not wanting to discuss it.

But Sam does drop it, eventually, leaving Victor free to ignore the age question. (Because seventeen feels wrong, but so does thirteen, and everything's a little fuzzy but some things are all too clear and he doesn't want to think about it.)

Until one day, he's talking to Sofia Belkebirs, and she's explaining why, exactly, he can't do [some risky thing with his powers, idk].

"You're thirteen-" She starts, slightly exasperated. "Seventeen." He interrupts, just to be difficult. "Fifteen." She continues without missing a beat. Victor blinks. "...okay." Average out the numbers; that was a fair compromise. Why didn't he think of that?

ii.

Romane doesn't care how old she was. She's fourteen now; that's what she wanted. She wants to be fourteen. And she can almost convince herself that it's that simple, except for the days when everything feels off. When she nearly stumbles with every step, disoriented. When she can't fight off the swirl of anxiety telling her how fragile everything is. When nothing feels like the fresh start it was supposed to be.

On days like that, she eventually figures out, it helps to count back and forth.

14 years old on that night in the bunker. 15 years old was her first birthday since age 10 that was spent without her friends. 16 years old was the birthday that Camille helped make cupcakes. 17 years old was the birthday her mom gave her a necklace and talked about the future with her for hours. 17 years old, in the bunker with Victor. 17 years old, in the bunker with Victor, Sam, and Bilal. 14 years old on that night in the bunker. 14 years old, at Bilal's house for cake and presents. 14 years old, remembering.

It's grounding, in a way, to straighten out the years in her head. The details don't matter as much, as long as she keeps moving forward. And she does.

iii.

Bilal doesn't want to know. There's too many contradicting memories, too many conflicting emotions. They all culminate in piercing headaches when he focuses on them for too long. Everything's more vague for him then it is for the others. There are gaps in his memory; sometimes he has no idea what he actually lived through.

A classmate asks him how old he is. He blanks, his head feeling like a static screen: inconsistent, loud, rapidly moving, and a signal that something was wrong.

"Um-"

Without looking up from her paper, purposefully nonchalant, Romane answers. "His birthday's [I forgot what his canon birthday is]."

"Oh. So...15, right?"

"Sure."

Yeah, that works.

iv.

Sam is fourteen years old. If the topic of age comes up, he'll recite birthdays and let whoever's asking do the math.

Sam is fourteen years old. When it isn't enough for Romane to go through the years in her head, he's fine with listening to her list what she can remember.

Sam is fourteen years old. As long as Victor stops claiming to be, "technically, in a way, older," he'll go along with the phrase "fifteen years old in theory".

(As time goes on, its effects begin to settle. Some memories fade; others sharpen. Within about two years, the kids feel more tethered to this timeline, and more normal about their chronological ages.)

#yeah i think there'd be an adjustment period where everything feels weird and out of time.#but i also think that would settle down after a little while and they would kind of just gradually return to normal.#paralleles #disney parallels #disney paralleles #also i don't think victor ever actually felt older than sam post-finale. but he absolutely claimed that he did.#because if my siblings were in a similar time travel situation i know they would hold the age thing over my head forever #and i think that's kind of universal for siblings. to some degree.#ALSO I WROTE THIS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. SO IF IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. THAT'S WHY.

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 3 years

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HER

I was rollin' around and in my mind it occurred. What if God was a HER?

Quick lil one-shot. Erik is onstage at a poetry night.

The words Urban Fever flashed neon above the familiar stage that Erik had seen countless nights through Open Mics and jazzy blues. Erik took the stage for the former, a first time poet created by the woes of heartbreak. He'd been through a lifetime in under a year.

A packed house sat before him as he adjusted the mic making it taller from the last poet who was 5'6 in her clunky platforms. Lights blinded him from the faces of the crowd and he squinted as the liquor in his system along with the vibe of the room made his mind run backward with reminiscing. His tongue was loose recounting his too brief time with.. Her.

"I swear I lost my train of thought when I passed her, fro godly like a pastor, skin like brown alabaster.

Astral choirs sing jagged edge cause shorty done walked right out of heaven a vision fulfledged."

NINE MONTHS BACK

"E, What you doing," Diamond's irritation cut into his sinful and lustful thoughts. For a minute he forgot he was in a relationship. He couldn't say he was in love but neither could most people. Diamond was down for him at least, he knew that for sure. "E!!"

"Hm?" His mind blanked so bad he missed the turn to take Diamond to work which meant he'd be late meeting his other bitch once he dropped her off. She sighed throwing her arms.

"Really E?" Diamond cut with a look that could kill. She was visibly sick of his shit but still there.. "You gone check this bitch out right in front of me when I'm in the car? Beside you?" She pushed the wheel causing the car to drift slightly into the left lane nearly hitting the car there before he righted it. "You that bold?"

He took a low look at her from the side of his eye as he kept driving. He'd passed the girl because Diamond made him gas the car so not to get hit.

"You trippin."

"Don't do that," she groaned. "Don't LIE. You want the bitch, go get the bitch." Impulsively she grabbed for the wheel again but he blocked her. "Let me out."

"You extra right now, chill out."

"Don't tell me to chill," she grit pushing the side of his head. He gave her another side eye as he contemplated pulling over.

"Just let me turn around.. Okay?"

She groaned as her head hit back on the headrest. "I don't know why I fuck with you, you ain't shit, never gonna be shit, make me feel like shit over your shit. It's just shit."

"So leave then Diamond! I don't need to hear that shit."

"I really should.. I'm not dumb, I know you cheating! I don't know why I stay with you when I know better."

"You know why."

Eight thick inches explained exactly why. He purposely missed the next turn hoping to find that girl walking again before she disappeared.

"I swear to-," she jumped suddenly, "LET ME OUT. I'M DONE, LET ME OUT!"

"Aye, chill. I'm a get you to work."

"NO. FUCK YOU," she pointed popping her door open before the car could make a full stop. He didn't stop and she either had to roll out or shut the door. She slammed it. She was finna be late as hell.. Meanwhile he was circling the area tryna go back to find that mystery woman he'd spotted before. Diamond wasn't dumb. She was shaking with anger, talking to herself.

The tall drink of hot chocolate with the god tier afro stood gracefully at the crosswalk looking like she'd flewn right out of heaven and into Stockton. Erik didn't know what the hell he was thinking.. he wasn't.. but he was damn near leaning on Diamond while steering the car closer to the sidewalk, rolling at a crawl to match this new woman's pace as his current sat fuming in the seat, shoving him off of her.

This new woman was divine. There were diamonds dusted in her skin like he'd never seen on a woman who wasn't on a TV screen. When she walked down the sidewalk, the world became chopped and screwed. That's how fixated he was. Not even Diamond slapping at him or shoving him could break his focus on that woman and her walk as he cruised beside her as though the surrounding traffic didn't exist.

"LET ME OUT," Diamond yelled smacking his face. She'd been trying the break the passenger door handle.. like he wouldn't make her pay for it. He finally stopped the car to let her noisy ass walk.

"Bye," he muttered pulling off to catch up with the fro'd up goddess.

"DON'T TALK TO HIM, HE'S TRASH," Diamond yelled from afar, her voice carrying faster than she could physically catch up. Erik wasn't bothered or embarrassed.

He had to think carefully of what to say. How could he impress this girl without her thinking he was a creep? Following her probably wasn't helping. Luckily she dropped something. It looked like money. Seizing his opportunity, he quickly parked in a no parking zone and dashed to snatch up what he discovered to be a twenty dollar bill.

"AYE.." he called ahead to no avail. He had to jog to catch up and when he reached her side, he noticed she had in earbuds. He waved for her attention and she fixed her eyes cautiously. Her almond eyes lined in jet black were just as black. She gritted on him hard. Even her disgusted face attracted him. She turned her nose up until she saw the twenty in his hand folded the same way the one in her pocket had been. He had her. "You dropped this.."

His hand smoothly ghosted hers as she took it. She felt like velvet to the touch.

"Thanks.."

She gave him a second look and he bit his lip as he met her eyes wondering how to make his next move.

"Ok.. so that's it?"

Her question caught him off guard.

"You do all that, follow me for damn near three blocks and now you've got nothing to say? That was anticlimactic."

Erik's jaw dropped slightly before he caught it.

"Wanna ride?"

She turned her nose up and he presented his key fob watching her deliberate on whether or not to trust him.

"Might as well.. before you get towed. Goofy ass," she mumbled with humor. There was something about her voice that was familiar and calming, the deep timbre. He rushed to retrieve the car. His face said it all as he opened the car door for her. It wasn't something he'd been in a habit of doing.

"Why thank you," she smirked.

"Of course... Why walk when you can be chauffeured," he commented when he was in.

"I like my woman black as the heart of an Aryan. Black as the back of a diabetic's neck. Black as coffee with no cream. My girl looks like 2 AM in a blackout."

Erik glanced wistfully to his memories ignorant to the soulful groans, snaps, and hums from the crowd. Of course his woman was no more, but he carried her still regardless..

Erik was stuck. He couldn't be away from his peace especially in the quiet moments when neither of them had anywhere they'd rather be than side by side doing whatever. Nail shop? He was in the pedicure massage chair right beside her with a drink and his feet up. Bank? They'd hit the BB&T and the SunTrust in one trip. They paid bills together.

"E, hand me my debit."

"You tryna pay it?"

"Yeah, I gotta pay today."

"I already did that."

"You paid mine?"

She seemed pleasantly shocked which was what Erik wanted.. to make her happy. Especially considering the pushback she got for their relationship. There were a lot of hating ass bitches.

"I heard you talked to Bianca.." He watched for any sign that she was omitting details to spare him. He didn't need to be spared. She took a deep breath and he knew without her speaking that some choice words had been exchanged. Afterall, he was playing Bianca with a whole girlfriend before leaving them both for this new flame. Bianca hadn't reacted well when she found out. "What she say," he inquired with faux calm. He had every intention of cussing out all his exes.. every one of them who had a problem with him moving on. It was the side effect of dating crazy bitches. They were too passionate. They couldn't just let shit rock, they had to harass him and his girl.

"I ain't worried about her, she can try me if she wants.. I'll knock her ass out that's for sure."

"Aight then," Erik smirked. He still planned to say something. "What she say though," he pressed.

"Same shit. She can't comment on anything but my skin because she knows I look better then her."

Erik was disappointed every time he thought of the fact that he'd unknowingly fucked a self hating colorist. He hadn't seen it before but now that he was serious about this new girl, true colors were showing.. and it wasn't just Bianca.

In a moment of fuck it after a sweaty quickie in the post office parking lot, Erik uploaded a chest-up pic of him and his cutie glowing from within with smiles white enough to rival the purest coke. She clung to him, laughing from the gut with crinkled eyes about something they'd both previously witnessed and he was grinning full force. That was the shot. Very pure. It'd brought him joy just looking at it, but others ain't feel what he felt and they had words about it. He cut off a childhood friend over a conversation where the guy'd said something casually insulting.

"How you ain't mean it when it came outta your mouth," Erik challenged. His friend was a damn coon.

Even worse was witnessing the treatment of her when it wasn't immediately clear they were together. She stood firm and held her own with class and dignity but it was work she didn't deserve to have to do. He couldn't be there for it all and even before he'd entered her life these problems were there.. but still..

"You know you perfect?" Erik asked this question at least once every other day to uplift his woman.

"Erik I need you to pick me up from work today," she said one day and when he asked why, she stated that her tire was flat. There was a nail in it. He sighed rubbing roughly through the fuzzy growout at the base of his locs. It had Evil Ex written all over it.

"I'll take take of it," he ensured. "I'll meet you for lunch too, wait for me."

His dedication knew no bounds. His loyalty had never before existed. His feelings for this woman were like nothing he'd ever felt.

Five months in.. he felt the same way. He'd never lived with a woman.. He'd never been faithful in his life, but then he'd never been in love.

Eight months.. she was still perfection through the good and bad and he'd do anything. He saw it all. The attitude, the dookie braids, the subtle insecurities, the slight messiness around the house, the flaws.. and all he could think of was that... he had his eye on a ring.. one with diamonds that matched the diamonds he saw in her soft rich deep brown skin.

"I'm casting all my game hoping she bite. Told her ass: You got that air that I like. Derriere sky high bite down I like to hit it from the bike. She say she love when daddy cum and fill it up just right."

The ring was still in Erik's pocket. It flipped absentmindedly through his fingers as he spoke. Unfortunately she'd never gotten it.

26 DAYS PRIOR

Erik gave backshots through the hour of 5 PM. Both he and his girl had arrived home around the same time and it was on sight.

"Hey.. Bae.. Get up and fix me something to eat," he whispered in her ear as she was laid out and half asleep. He was laid out as well with little energy after emptying himself of everything. He nudged her and she groaned but sat up.

"You can't fix it? I don't wanna move," she snickered.

"Pleaaaase," he begged watching her give in as she stretched. He smacked her ass as she rose. Then he rolled over and closed his eyes, hungry but ready to sleep. He inhaled her fresh scent left over on the pillow. It reminded him of oceans.

The doorbell rang.

He figured it was a package, something else she'd ordered. The closet was full. He drifted off.

When a half hour passed he opened his eyes and she still hadn't returned, she had to be cooking something. The thought hit him to surprise her in the kitchen by taking her as she cooked. It would be sexy..

When he walked out to the kitchen, he immediately entered a state of shock. Not only was she not cooking or coming back.. She had left a note that amounted to this:

Erik.. I'm leaving you for my ex.

Apparently her ex had showed which meant they'd been in contact... she even let him in.

Turned out he'd been a rebound all along.

"I should've known better..," Erik's head dropped in dark humor as his story came to a close. "When a goddess says her name is Karma that means misery. Better run if you got a history. I guess if she's God then God's testing me. Cuz she sure left with the best of me."

@soufcakmistress @itsiesha @ju5tp34chy @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @blackpantherimagines @blackpinup22 @muse-of-mbaku @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @purplehairgawdess @indigoxsummers @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent-blog

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #her

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youhearstatic · 4 years

Note

For the micro-prompts: 20, 16, or 47? (I like to give options in case one jumps out more than the others, so don't feel like you should combine them or something!)

20 - You probably thought I forgot, right? I didn’t! (And I haven’t forgotten the other two I have left, either!)

Surprise, surprise, this one went long. Hope you like it!

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

Alone, Finally

Barry followed the rest of the crew down the backstage hallway, tugging at the unfamiliar robe they’d been given right before they went on stage. Well, that some of them had been given. Magnus was wearing a jacket he’d instantly pulled the sleeves off of. The captain had a longer version of the same jacket that was tailored immaculately to him with military severity. Merle hadn’t even worn his for the press conference. The twins had worn both jackets and robes, somehow making the IPRE uniform look like couture instead of standard issue. Lucretia was in the robe but she looked like a lost boarding school student, the crimson robe looked stylishly scholastic on her. He tugged at the neck of the robe again, even more self conscious than he’d been on stage.

Ahead of him, the twins had their heads bowed together, whispering and laughing. For the first of many, many times, the echo of Lup’s comment on stage scraped across his thoughts like nails on a chalkboard.

Nerd alert!

Just a few more minutes and the others would be heading to that bar they’d mentioned. And then - for one last time for a while - he’d be alone, finally.

---

Trailing his hand down the wall, Barry made his way by memory. After eleven years he could have done it with his eyes closed.

Which was essentially what he was doing.

It was stupid, so fucking stupid. Okay, sure, that first year he hadn’t known to take his glasses off. Why would he? But by the third time they regenned he should have figured out that his glasses were going to be important and he should set them aside before … whatever it was that happened at the end of the cycle. That fourth year he’d died, that could be excused. The eighth year he’d had it ingrained in him not to even think of removing his mask. So that year could be excused, too.

But that still left six regens. Six opportunities to set aside a pair of glasses in case of emergency.

Well maybe next year he’d remember. But for the rest of this year he was practically blind. Anything beyond arm’s reach might as well not exist. He could make out colors and if he squinted really hard sometimes he could get a slight hint of shape to the faceless blurs around him.

It’s fine, he told himself for probably the thousandth time that day.

It wasn’t fine. Sure, he could make his way around the ship, fumbling his way from room to room by memory and feel. But once he was there he didn’t have much to offer. He couldn’t work in the lab. Experiments were off the table - literally if he was trying to do them. Just trying to clean basic equipment in the lab had resulted in two broken beakers before Lup kindly, patiently, but insistently suggested he leave the job to her. He couldn’t help look for the light. He couldn’t take notes on their observations. He couldn’t even help with chores around the ship!

Pushing open the fifth door on the left, he was alone, finally. Dark blur straight ahead was his bed and beige-ish blur to the left was his desk. And then the blurs were watery and the tears of frustration and self pity that he’d held off all week caught up to him. He leaned against the door and let his facade drop.

He was so tired of being a drain on the crew. Not being able to help, having to be looked after, and maybe worst of all, pretending it didn’t kill him by inches, pretending it was all just a silly thing to be joked away. ‘Barold bumping into things for three more months,’ wasn’t it hilarious? ‘Barry fell of the rock jetty, lost his glasses, almost died, and now he’s talking to the coat rack because he thinks it’s Lucretia.’

“Barry?”

Fear shot hot and electric through his body, startling him into embarrassed silence. He swabbed his hand over his face, trying to disguise the fact he’d been leaning against his door crying because he…

“Oh, fuck,” he said. “I went in the fourth door, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Lup answered. That one syllable was so patient and kind and understanding and honestly, it was just salt in his wounds. He didn’t want to be understanding about this whole thing and he really didn’t want Lup to be understanding about him bumbling into her room and having a breakdown.

“Sorry, I, just, um,”

A blur separated itself from the bed-blur, straightened into a taller blur, and approached him. He could almost see the shape of her hair in her silhouette - it was loose, not braided was all he could make out - when she was close enough to take his hand. “C’mere,” she said, tugging him gently towards the bed-blur. “Hold on,” she said. The Lup-blur bent then straightened again. “Don’t want you tripping over my boots,” she explained. There was a clunk to his right and he assumed she’d tossed the shoes towards the wall to get them out of the way.

It was disconcerting, being pulled into a sitting position on Lup’s bed. Their rooms were arranged identically, looked identical to his unassisted vision, and sitting on her bed was, in theory, no different than sitting on his own.

Except it was. It wasn’t his bed, it wasn’t his room, and worse - oh so much worse - it was Lup’s bed in Lup’s room. His face was burning and his stomach was winding itself into furious little knots and dammit, he hadn’t thought he could feel worse than he did three minutes ago but, look at that!, here he was sunk lower than the freezing point of mercury.

“I didn’t mean to bug you,” he mumbled, eyes aimed at the floor or where the floor was if he could at least be trusted to get that right.

“Hold still,” she tells him. Then she’s pushing the hair back from his forehead and there’s a weird sensation, like a pinching pull that doesn’t quite hurt but it’s just so odd he can’t figure out what’s going on.

“Stop frowning!” she tells him, her voice colored with laughter. “I’m just clipping your hair back.”

“Why?” he asks before he can stop himself. He feels like he’s three steps behind what is happening.

“Because we’re doing face masks.”

“What?”

“Relax,” she tells him.

And for some strange reason, he does.

---

They’ve been alone. Over the years, in a dozen planar systems, across doomed worlds, in forgotten ruins, or just in the lab working silently, they’ve been alone.

They’ve been alone. Over the months of study and composition and practice. They’ve been alone, just the two of them and their music filling the empty room, no witness to the way the notes have been building and the music has been building and the way the tempo has somehow gotten slower. Here at the end, right next to each other, a pair of pathways that have wound ever closer over the years, the paths have almost joined and yet.

And yet.

They meander these last months. Dancing closer and closer but not touching, not mingling, not yet.

Each step forward slower and slower until the momentum is crawling forward, making the distance of a few inches last and last.

They are alone together on stage.

There are so many around. Instructors and audience and all the people that it takes to keep an infrastructure like this running: janitors and receptionists and the guy that refills the coffee machine in the fourth floor break room. Anyone in hearing distance that day notices. It’s like that sometimes. You can go weeks and months and nothing sticks, even the pieces that get rebroadcast, they run together at some point. It’s beautiful, amazing, but there’s filters to restock and inquiries to respond to. There’s a leaky water heater that needs tending to. But for a minute, you stop, lean on the broom and take notice.

But not Barry and Lup, alone, finally, despite the people surrounding them. Their music is still echoing around them when their hands find one another.

Lup and Barry, alone on stage. Two paths that have run side by side, so close for so long, join at last.

There’s applause and then the song is sent out anew, reflected from deep within the mountain instead of from her violin and his piano. There’s applause and an empty stage.

Alone, finally.

---

There’s a pillar of bone carved with arcane symbols. There on the hill, two people lean together, forehead to forehead. Further away another watches. But in this instant there’s no one else. Seven on this planet yes. Eight if you count their strange, duck loving new shipmate.

But for now. On this hill. In this moment.

There are only two.

Two liches.

Alone, finally, after years of study.

And then like so many times before, they pick up their responsibilities and work and pull it all back on like a costume they only ever drop for a little while.

In those moments they are alone.

---

He’s alone.

This was the final place. It was supposed to be…

His shoulders sag. It was supposed to be their happy ending, their settled-at-last, their no-more-running.

But he woke up and she wasn’t there.

It felt different. He didn’t say it, but it did.

And then morning turned to day turned to week turned to months.

He’s alone.

---

Exhaustion wears them down, hang like too-heavy cloaks on backs that can’t stand tall without her.

He’d been alone.

But feeling the last of her disappear - the her that was only in his memories - he knows what alone really means. He can’t lose her that way, not again, not like this.

“Taako, k- kill me! Right now!”

He’s falling.

Forgetting.

Forgotten.

Alone.

Final.

---

He’s alone. There is so much that makes no sense. Three guys - one of them made of fucking wood if you could believe it - and him naked in a tank full of goo.

Then he got in the one guy’s pocket? Somehow?

The details are fuzzy.

But dammit, he’s happy. Something feels right. After so long. (How long?)

He’s alone.

Alone, but -

Finally.

---

Who’d have guessed this was a skill? The ultimate hangover and when you got that giant memory dump poured on you every time you did something stupid like fell off a cliff or didn’t bring enough water into the desert… well, you got better at it.

So while the others recovered, he was alone, the only one not under fire from a million contradicting thoughts.

Alone, Finally.

At the end.

And then… and then… his brain comes up empty at the thought. And then?

Alone?

---

The pale green glow throws strange shadows across the cave. There was a ball of brilliant fire but, well, anchoring yourself in a body after a decade out of practice took some concentration. And he didn’t exactly have the concentration himself.

After so long. After everything. After endless nights in this very cave, planning and plotting and hoping.

Alone.

And then.

Finally.

Alone together.

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