#pre-heartbreak

[gruvu]

Malin gave me a prompt and they are best friends! Chen and Crimm actually would have a lot in common I think? Both are.. not.. they both may view themselves as not human and I think Chen envies Crimm to a level as well. It’s.. I have this whole board of what I think about their friendship. 

[ortegatrash]

Like talking to a brick wall

Name: Mikael Hansson | Puppet: Eden | Villain name: Thorne Cautious / anonymous / tech-savvy / tactician / anarchist Outsider scar, truth. Fandom: Fallen Hero Rebirth. Gen. Pre-Heartbreak.

"What do you have to hide?"

Direct as usual, Steel. You resent him for it, for making you feel so exposed and raw under his accusations. For always treating you like you're guilty without even having a fair trial.

What even are you guilty of, in those accusing eyes of his?

Existing?

It wouldn't be the first time. The reminder just churns up feelings not unlike soured milk in your stomach. Your very existence is an affront to people, you know they would not be so kind if they ever knew what was hiding under the clothes you disguise yourself from the world with.

You've had too much experience with being looked at like a object of disdain. Not good enough to be human. Not good enough to pass their standards.

Those glares still haunt you sometimes. It makes you hate that you have a body to be perceived by others with.

But Steel won't stop looking at you, like he’s trying to get in your head and dissect everything you are under his scalpel sharp mind.

So you just bury your head. Bury your head and grit your teeth and try not to outright snarl at Steel. You don't need him to think you've got an anger problem on top of everything, too. "It's none of your goddamn business if I don't want to go through a background check, Steel."

He sets his jaw, unconvinced. "It became my business when you started getting close to the Rangers," he lectures, because of course he does. "I need to know of any potential danger to the team."

You can't help the sudden intake of breath. "I am not a fucking danger to the team!" you protest, genuine anger filling your voice. "How dare you? I've only ever helped! I'm still a hero, no matter what you say! I've had Ricardo's back through thick and thin, isn't his trust in me enough for you?!"

His lips press into a thin line and for a second there he looks almost guilty. But then his face hardens again and you know, you just know he's going to twist the knife in. "Ricardo's a smart man," he admits, grudgingly. "But he's too sentimental. He's too blinded by his feelings for you to be objective."

"Don't you dare bring his feelings into this!" You don't even want to think about it. Whatever you have between you. Whatever guilty feelings you allow yourself to indulge in around him.

The way he keeps looking at you greedily, wanting more than you can give him, no matter how much you want it.

"You were the one who brought it up," he points out, eyes hard. Mind shut off as tightly as Fort Knox. "You know it's true. You're his blind spot and that means you're a weakness he has no defence against."

You flinch.

That…

That is a low blow and even he knows it, by the look on his face.

You hate that you can see where he's coming from. You hate that you can see how suspicious you are, how he feels like he just wants to defend his team and best friend from you, the potential danger. That doesn't mean you have to like it.

So instead you deflect and ask: "Why do you even hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"

"I don't hate you-"

The laughter that bubbles out of your throat is so bitter you don't even recognise it as your own at first. Bitter and tired and completely done with this conversation. "Well. You're sure doing a good job at pretending to," you scoff. "Just leave me alone, would you?"

"Mikael, I-" He looks almost regretful, hand running through his hair in frustration.

"Please,” you hiss out. Or at least you like to think you do. Even you can tell it sounds frustratingly desperate, you despise the way he always reduces you to this. "I don't want to think about this anymore."

Who are you trying to beg, him or yourself?

His mouth is still open, caught in wanting to say something and hesitating in the look in your eyes like a cornered animal. Still just looking at you.

Always, always judging you. Taking your measure and finding you lacking.

"Stop it, Steel."

He blinks, caught by surprise. "Stop...what?"

"Stop looking at me like that!" You're aware of how humiliatingly hysterical you sound, but your barriers are down and everything is too, too much.

"Like...what?" His face radiates confusion. Confusion, and…

Concern?

You shake your head, too caught up in the mess that is your feelings to unravel that little revelation. Bury your face between your hands. "Just…go away, Steel."

If you can't see him, it'll be like he doesn't exist. And then maybe you can pretend you're alone in here and not with someone who's been treating you like an enemy from the start.

But you're too vigilant to be able to ignore your surroundings, not fully, and so you hear his soft breathing, the rustle of his sleeve as he makes to reach for you before he thinks better of it. Something in your tone of voice and the way you've been acting making even him find you too pitiful to actually deal with. Something that makes him turn around and walk away.

You wish you could walk away from all your problems so easily like that. But no matter how much you've tried, you've never been able to run away from yourself.

You absolutely resent him for being able to do so.

[ortegatrash]

My Sidestep Léon (Pride) as a wee lil babe just out of the Farm’s care. When he thought he could learn to be human and try this ‘being nice’ and ‘happy smile’ thing. Before they taught him how mistaken he was.

[ortegatrash]

FH:Rebirth WIP - The Mug Saga

Ortega returns to find the table minus one Sidestep and plus one innocent steaming mug of coffee.

"Wha- I can't believe it, don't tell me you left me to pay the bill, asshole!"

You can pinpoint the moment he catches sight of the mug because his indignant confusion turns to surprise and then melts into genuine delight.

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY', the crumpled piece of paper reads. It's tucked neatly under the special limited edition Marshal Charge mug, you had been there with Ortega as he did the photoshoot for the children's charity it came from. It'd taken all you willpower to keep from snickering as they presented a bewildered Ortega with increasingly more creative poses in front of a green-screen in a more 'traditional' version of his superhero uniform.

Aka, underwear over a bodysuit. You weren't really sure exactly why they needed him to then lose the bodysuit and start doing provocative 'come hither' poses in only the Official Marshal Charge Tightey Whiteys with Mobile Charger ™ but the smiles gathered you a pleased, smug grin from Ortega himself as he directed his expressions at you.

Damn arrogant asshole. That's why you got the mug where he'd genuinely tripped from one of the kittens escaping from the cardboard tree he was 'rescuing' them from and he has a stupid, dumb surprised expression on his face.

It always makes you grin to think of it.

You're interrupted from your thoughts from a bark of laughter as Ortega presumably catches sight of the rest of the message. You'd taken inspiration for that bit from seeing the man the table over flirt blatantly with the waitress before leaving his number on the tip.

There's a fond, indulgent look on his face and it brings more feelings into your gut than you know how to deal with. He looks all around for you before spotting you not-so-inconspicuously hiding behind one of the pillars trying to hide your grin.

"You didn't really believe you could dine and dash on me, did you?" he laughs as comes over and embraces you tightly. "I didn't think you had it in you, writing 'CALL ME' with your name and number. "

You look away, too red to look him in the eye even as he holds close. Like something precious. He's always been so earnest in his emotions. "You know I would outrun you, old man. So, the great Marshal Charge is down to catching petty food thieves now?" you tease, trying to will your heart to settle. "Didn't know you were such a cheapskate."

His answering wink as he reluctantly releases you from his embrace makes your stomach flutter. "Oh I don't know if it's so petty. I think this thief has stolen my heart," he whispers wickedly as he pulls away.

"Ortega!" Oh no. Oh no no no.

You are not blushing, you are not having these traitorous feelings. Not for Ortega. Don't ruin this. You know he would flirt with a sock puppet if it could talk. That's just how he is, you are nothing special.

Your brain tells you one thing and your heart just doesn't want to listen. Stupid body, going and having feelings. You can see the way he's enjoying how he can have such an effect on you, eyes warm with mirth at your expense.

So he thinks he can tease you like that with no repercussions? Well. Two can play at that game. You might not have always enjoyed the….education...you were given, but it certainly comes in handy at times. Tilt your head up at the right angle, looking up under your eyelashes.  Wide eyes, softened face. The picture of innocence.

Good. No one's looking this way and it shouldn't be too hard to gently redirect the old man in the corner who feels like heading towards you to use the bathroom. You still don't have the best control yet but it's simple to make him think he saw someone enter the single stall with an upset stomach and that he should try the disabled toilets next door.

Ortega's eyes are very wide as he takes in your approach, pupils dilated. This is just to get back at him, right? It's just revenge for always being so flirty. See if he likes having the tables turned on him.

"Maybe you're right," you begin slyly. "Maybe I have been bad. The big bad villain running away with my thieving hands full of stolen things."

"Oh?" he breathes, eyes wide and terribly excited. This is out of character for you, being so forward. Usually you're too busy worrying about keeping a low profile to dare even think of doing such a thing. "And what exactly have those thieving hands been getting into?"

You can't help it, he looks far too amused and pleased at your antics to not want to take him down a peg. It doesn't take much for you to pull him into the darkened space behind the pillar while on the lookout for wandering eyes.

"Hm, I don't know," you begin with a shy smile.  "A lot of things, really…."

It doesn't take much to bring a hand up and stroke his cheek to distract him from where your other hand is wandering. The flicker of his eyes downwards and the warm blush spreading across his face tells you he can feel the way you reach around, teasing, merciless, as you go to cup his ass…

Aaaand swiftly yoink his wallet out of his back pocket so quickly he only has time to give you an outraged look. Like a cat thrown face-first into a bathtub, you think as you sprint giggling out the back door.

Oh, that was fun. You wondered how long it would take for Ortega to shame-facedly reveal he couldn't pay before the waitress let him in on the fact you'd paid the bill beforehand with a tidy tip for playing along with your little game.

It was his birthday, after all. You shouldn't be too mean to him.

But only for today. Just because it's his birthday, and he needs something to compensate him for becoming more of an old man. You couldn't let him get too spoilt and think you actually liked him or anything.

You really don't know. All you know is when Ortega lives up to his name and comes charging around the corner red-faced clutching his new mug delicately and with a coffee stain all over his previously pristine white outfit, you burst out in laughter and you've never felt so open. So filled with joy and delight.

"I can't believe you just did that!" he scolds. Shaking his head at your antics with a sigh. "Tricking me like that...thank you for the gift though, I love it."

You're not used to being thanked, it still makes you uncomfortable. It was just a stupid, dumb joke mug anyway.

Apparently your first instinct is just to deflect from actually confronting your feelings and tease him again. "Really? I thought you had better taste than tacky souvenir quality mugs of yourself," you joke. "I should have know you were a narcissist. I bet you even wear your own fan t-shirt merchandise."

When Ortega looks away with a "Well…", your smile only increases.

"Oh, wow. Really?"

"What's the point of having your own merchandise if you can't use it?" He gives an innocent, shameless shrug. "Besides, it's fun!"

"You're incorrigible." Despite what your words might say, your traitorous heart reveals the truth of what you feel. Like it's burst and swollen up to fill your chest with these strange, novel feelings. Is...is this what happiness is?

Ortega is...Ortega is staring at you like he's never really seen you before. Just watching your face with - you hate to even think of it- downright tender fascination. It makes your cheeks feel too warm, your mouth gape open only slightly as you struggle for something to say in the face of those soft, soft eyes.

What are you supposed to do when he looks at you like that? Like he…

Like he actually...likes you.

Such an idiot, you think, fondly.

Maybe...maybe things are going to be alright. Maybe things really are going to work out like Ortega says. He doesn't know what you're going through exactly, but he knows there are things troubling you.

That. That would be nice. Maybe you can really have a future as a hero, even if you can't be a ranger like the others. It's fine, it's better if you don't have the spotlight anyway. You don't want to bring any undue attention onto yourself.

It's fine. It's all fine. It has to be.

This is more than someone like you could have ever dared dream for and you are so, so hopeful for the future. It's as fragile like a butterfly's cocoon, spun out of the finest golden threads of promise. Hope.

[You were so, so naïve.]

The tears are rolling down your face and you don't bother to do anything to stop them.

[You miss it. You miss him so, so much you couldn't stand it. Heartbreak changed you forever.]

A hand on your shoulder, while you bury your face into his. "H-hey? Are you- are you crying?"

[You tore your heart out and threw every bit that ever cared about him away.]

"I think I'm happy." you whisper, and you think you actually mean it.

[fudge-x-x]

Finally got around to making my sidestep!!! Pre-heartbreak incident in her normal clothes (clothes that Ortega and anathema bought and forced her to wear) hence the lack of scars and relatively put together.

Name: Ava Axton

Knows the underworld and is a tactician.

Her vice: Sweets.

I'll give more details on the next one I make which would Ava in her sidestep attire! :)

@fallenhero-rebirth

[magically-strange]

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