#xshatteredreflectionsx

[rosetintedgunman]

( @stageplayhero , @xshatteredreflectionsx )

Wilford shrugged. "These blogs have had th' worst luck when it comes ta romance over th' years. If I wanna get some sorta self-indulgence I gotta go find it somewhere."

[theauthorlives]

five times touched

(Hit me wit your best shot, I'm so excited)

@xshatteredreflectionsx

Five Times Drabbles (Accepting, but slow.)

five times touched: ( five times the receiver touched the sender (platonically or romantically or otherwise!) )

-

It had been a whirlwind of a day. It started out as normal, then he met one of the new inmates (luckily, not the man that looked like a douche), then they FOUGHT, and now he was stuck in solitary on an overexaggerated act.

"First riot in years... Tch." He kicked some dust with the scuff of his shoe. "What does he call the brawl last week? Some sorta dance-off?" Dropping onto the flimsy, wire-frame bed with an annoyed grumble, Yancy rubbed the bottom of his lip with his thumb. It didn't hurt that badly, but it would likely leave a mark. Somehow, that new face had a good aim, even if they looked like they could be knocked over by a moderate breeze. What was their deal anyway? Being all nice and friendly, and then throwing it back in his face when he tried giving them an out? What did they want? Did they even know what they wanted?

It was a good punch. Little sloppy, but surprisingly good.

With a heavy sigh, Yancy flopped back against the pillow that was only slightly softer than a rock. It would be fine. He could manage one night of this. Then, he would be allowed back to his cell where he could have some peace and quiet and move on from this mess.

(Oh, if only he knew what changes happened while he was gone!)

-

"- which had Jimmy the Pickle nearly throw me outta the fucking window. And lemme tell youse, if I was a man who wanted out of here I would've taken him up on that offer!"

Months in the same space had broken down the walls. It was the first time in a long time that Yancy felt this comfortable with anyone. It didn't matter what they spoke about, or what they were doing. Everything made sense with Morgan in a way Yancy wasn't sure he could understand.

The story of the morning's events had Morgan snort in that familiar silent laugh, which immediately turned to anguish as they realised they had been distracted long enough to fumble one of their loops on their latest project. Unfortunately for Yancy, they were sitting side-by-side on the bottom bunk, which left him prime target for them to roughly slam their shoulder into his arm.

Naturally, this prompted the greaser to let out a dramatic, wounded cry and slump to the side. "Aw fuck! I can't believe youse would try and take me down like this. Me! Youse's good and loyal cellie who ain't done nothing wrong ever!" Though the conversation was one-sided (for now. Yancy was still secretly learning sign), words weren't needed as Morgan instead pulled out a spare crochet needle and began playfully poking him in the arms with it. It was only when they stopped and they looked up expectantly for Yancy's apology did he see an opportunity:

"So does that mean my funeral crochet blanket's gonna be fucked up and sloppy?"

Sure, he got shoved out of the bunk, but it was so worth it.

-

Yancy sat at the tiny table in the cell, tongue peeking out between his lips as he gave his full attention to the page in front of him. The page went over the finger-spellings that the class were going to be tested on. They knew the signs, but it was the test to see if they could spell words, and so speed was needed just as much as accuracy.

This was how Morgan found him upon their return from their late shift in the kitchen. He was muttering letters to himself, interspersed with the occasional swear. Unlike before, when he had to do all this in private, it didn't matter that he had been caught in the act. If anything, it was a startling reminder that Yancy did all this for them. And he was still dedicated to the task.

They waved to catch his attention. Doing okay? (It was best to keep the sentences short and slow.)

"Yeah. I, uh, wait." He flipped the pages of the notebook until he found a stuck-in sheet with phrases. Hard. Work. "Uh... Hang on." Another pause as the book was turned to the original page. S-P-E-L-I-N-G.

Morgan chuckled and scooped up their own notebook and pen before sitting beside him. 'You forgot an 'L' just now.'

"I did? Shit. We's gonna lose marks if we don't sign fast and right."

'You don't need to spell that fast. Not yet. You have time. Want help?'

"Please."

Together, they worked through the list of words slowly, Yancy trying to get the knack of it. His hands worked slower than his mind - which already struggled with topics like spelling - so it was an uphill battle. But with that, there was a moment where he couldn't make the transition between letters right. Without thinking, Morgan reached over and gently placed their hand on his to help guide him through the letters. The idea that they could touch each other so casually was still a new experience for the pair that were still reeling over Yancy's confession a few mere weeks earlier. If Morgan was trying to help focus Yancy on the task, it only served to do the opposite as he instead lifted his hand so he could kiss the back of theirs.

Little surprise, then, that both forgot the purpose of the help as Yancy opted to spell L-O-V-E-U before gingerly pulling them in for a kiss.

(He never wanted to get used to this sensation.)

-

Another day, another loop. The calm before the storm on the Invincible. The Leads of the different departments were holding a meeting on what to do and how to deal with this.

(Morgan was not dealing with it well, thank you very much.)

"Hey, Captain. I brought youse the... Captain?" Yancy had been assigned to bring Morgan up their coffee. He'd even found one of their novelty mugs - Cartoony dolphins with one as a handle from some aqua resort Yancy couldn't pronounce. Instead, Morgan hurried right past him like he wasn't there. He knew that was the price to pay of another secret relationship... But it still stung.

He didn't belong on the bridge anyway. He was just a mechanic who only got in because the Captain had made a plea case for bringing someone along as part of a parole initiative. He didn't deserve to be here. The mug was left on the designated holder on the main panel so he could skulk out.

Later in the day, he had spent the whole of his morning and most the afternoon putting the final repairs on one of the mopeds that had received minor damage during transit. It was nothing terrible, but enough to need his full attention. He had tidied up and was getting ready to leave when Morgan walked in.

"Captain! I -"

They walked though him, literally bumping against his shoulder with enough force to knock him back a step. One of the crew walking behind turned to him. "What do you think you're doing? The Captain has more important things to deal with than someone like you."

Yancy froze, only nodding in agreement when the words sunk in. There and then, he made the decision to spent the evening in his own cabin once his shift was done.

-

It was terrible! The Gang were so sure they had figured out the best way to best the grumpy old men who wanted to turn a basketball court into a place where large benches would sit for the old men to sit on. But no! Some snooty snob decided that fun wasn't allowed! It was unfair! Yancy had decided that enough was enough! He was going to sort this out! He -

Something tapped his left cheek.

Then his right.

Then his left again.

Then both, for good measure.

Blearily, Yancy blinked awake to the blissful sight of a beaming Morgan over him.

You were muttering in your sleep.

"I would have punched some old men and went back to prison so we's could play basketball." The sentence was mumbled with such self-assuredness that Morgan snorted and patted his cheeks again. This time, they pressed inward until Yancy's lips puckered like a fish. It seemed to be enough to tug him fully back into the world of the waking, though it made speaking a little tricky.

"Wot timezit aneeweh?"

Too early, Morgan responded matter-of-factly once they pulled their hands back. It didn't answer the question, yet he was completely satisfied to know just that much.

"Good. I'm going back to sleep."

To punch old men?

"Nah. I'd rather dreams with youse in 'em. They's is way better. One time you revealed youse was a dragon. That was cool as shit. When's you gonna show me that here? Youse'd look fine as fuck with wings, just saying."

Both hands were back on his face this time, immediately blocking the wink that Morgan knew was coming. That only left them vulnerable to being snatched by the waist and pulled back down so they were in his embrace again. They didn't struggle, not when it meant they could nestle up against him until they felt comfortable.

"Hey, uh... Thanks. For waking me up. I mean. Didn't think I's ever spoken in my sleep like that before. Kinda prefer the not-sleep life where I knows youse loves me, so uh -!"

A hand quickly shot up to cover his mouth in a silent plea of shut up and go back to sleep.

[blueheartedmayor]

Uno reverse card

Behind closed doors for Dante and Moira :3c

Behind Closed Doors (I reblogged it once for all three accounts but it's accepted here too. It'll be super slow though.)

@xshatteredreflectionsx

-

It was a formal gathering, but one a little different from the ones Damien would have to attend. It was hosted by a dear patron, and the atmosphere was light and cheerful. It was a breath of fresh air for all the guests. Anything was better than those stuffy events where every answer is a move on an unseen chess board.

In fact, Moira was enjoying herself. As Damien's plus-one, she was an outsider to the group, yet had found herself tugged onto the dancefloor by an older gentleman who was surprisingly agile for his age. Damien watched on from the bar, amusement playing on his lips, before the host approached him.

"I didn't think you would ever bring a guest to one of my parties, Damien." She claimed the bar stool beside him. "Here was me thinking you would never share that secret with me." Of course, she was only teasing him, knowing that the reason was not as nefarious as she was making it out to be.

"I do know that, Margaret. And truthfully, I've been meaning to bring Moira to one of these for some time. She's simply been very busy, and I would hate to distract her from her work. It's taken a lot for her to get this far."

They both turned their attention to the dancefloor in time to see the lawyer of the hour being spun around in an ungraceful, clumsy manner.

"You two met through work, I take it?"

"No, no. She's an old friend from university. The first friend I'd made for myself, by myself. I don't know where I would be without her. She has seen me at my best, and at my worst. She taught me how to live beyond the confines of the world I grew up in. She helped me see that there was still good in people; that I wasn't 'odd' like I always thought. She even bore witness to me being intoxicated for the first time, and relentlessly made fun of me the morning after when I couldn't lift my head off the table." His smile was sweet and more sentimental. "If I'm honest, there's no one I'd rather have by my side, and that's even beating my own sister out of that position."

"She sounds like a keeper."

"I suppose you could say that. She's my best friend, and she means more to me than anyone else in the whole world." Dark brown eyes were focused on the attempted dancing. No one had fallen, and that was a miracle. But he missed the way Margaret gave a breathless laugh and rolled her eyes. Oh dear...

BONUS:

-

"Permit me the opportunity to avoid some sort of 'story' to set the scene as is the norm here. Not only would it be forced, it would be wholly fake. I think it would be better to be honest with you directly. I wouldn't dream of speaking any of this out loud to anyone.

I loved her. I'm sure the choice of story prior to this showed as much. But I was a fool who was oblivious to the meaning of the messages drumming in his heart. I grew up in a loveless family environment. Love stared me in the face and I didn't do a thing about it. I felt this - this warmth in my chest when I was with her. I didn't understand fully what it meant. Instead, I channelled it into something platonic - or fooled myself into thinking it was familial, as was the case with the only friends I had ever known. Everything would be alright, if she was there. That's how it felt, anyway.

Choices were a luxury for me. I knew I wanted my life partner to be my decision, and no one else's. Mayhaps that was why I didn't see the obvious. There were so many risks in a relationship that had to be secret to the whole world. I was already scared of losing her friendship if my parents met her and deemed her 'unworthy'. It would have increased tenfold if that relationship had differed.

Now... Nothing would ever happen. Even if - even if somehow I can undo these disasters that have happened to her, it won't change what I did. I don't deserve her forgiveness, and I definitely don't deserve her love - if she even still saw me that way. And even if she did... I'm not even sure I have yet regained the ability to feel love. Regaining your own sense of self and your humanity is a slower process that simply snapping out of a trance. That's a tale for another time, I'm sure. Or, maybe it won't be.

To get back on track... If there was one thing I wished I could do, it would be to go back with a message. Not to warn myself of the manor. Not to tell Moira to feign illness to guilt me into leaving early the morning after... But I would go back to the university days. I would tell myself to run away with her. My family would not have been able to hunt me as I had feared they would. I could have disappeared, became a nobody, and learned to live as - well, as someone ought to. Mayhaps feel a proper sense of freedom for the first time in my miserable existence.

All I can do is try and find a way to liberate her. I know it won't magically undo a century of torment that was caused by my hands. I know it won't set everything right. But at the very least it will allow two people to feel like they can try and get their lives back on track."

[thelightfalls]

@xshatteredreflectionsx whispered: “ i don’t think there is a right choice, just a choice you have to make. “

Prompt

“You speak as if there’s a choice at all.”

Right or wrong, there is no such thing in a story like this. Choices hardly matter if you are pulled back to square one, but Morgan never truly grasps that, do they? Is it even their fault?

Frustration simmers below the calm façade he wears, eating away at colors, shadows threatening to suffocate the two of them.

“Do you not see it? We both don’t have the luxury of choice, presented only the illusion of it. Enticing as it may seem, it’s nothing more than a lie. Only a way to ease the mind so you’ll play your part.”

Why do they insist on being so naïve? So blind to the stage they’re eternally trapped upon!

“Are you satisfied with the path you walk upon, Morgan?”

[briingmayflowers]

“You have the power to shape your own destiny”

This Was Probably A Meme Which I Have Forgotten || @xshatteredreflectionsx

May, who hadn’t realised she had more or less been pouring over her woes without really mentioning the crucial part about magic, was surprised by Morgan’s response. She gave them a small smile. “You really think so?” she asked, cupping her hands around the polystyrene coffee cup. “Sometimes, I just feel kinda...stuck.”

[maiusbonum]

❝ But I still have so many questions! ❞ (hello :) )

frozen ii sentence starters.

❝ you and me both, ❞ oswald huffs, as mark strides away from them, whisking himself out of the room and down the hall. ❝ he never tells me anything. ❞ he scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, puffing a sigh out of his nose as he looks to morgan. ❝ sorry ‘bout that. i’d say he isn’t usually that rude, but he sort of always is. ❞

❝ i’m sorry to make you write everything down, too, by the way. ❞ he gestures at morgan’s phone, which he’d just read the other’s complaint off of moments ago. ❝ i need to pick up asl. be useful right about now– maybe i can convince mark to hire me a tutor or something. ❞

[rosetintedgunman]

"we're two sides of the same coin, right"

(tfw both are sunshine babies)

@xshatteredreflectionsx (Prompt from here)

-

"I'm glad I've gotten ya ta takin' my point of view."

Was it March? Were they sitting on a park bench eating ice pops? Absolutely. How could Wilford resist? They were colourful! His - pink, obviously (because it's strawberry flavoured, obviously. The colour doesn't matter!) - was waved at Morgan as though it was an extension of his own hand.

"It's not easy ta get ta this point, but I think it's th' better place ta be. People'll look at ya an' think that yer all chirpy an' cheerful all th' time, so that means yer stupid or oblivious. They don't know it's not always th' way." A half-hearted shrug accompanied this. "Still, life is better when ya look up. See th' clouds up there? That one on th' left looks like a pineapple. But if ya resigned yerself ta feelin' nothin' but doom an' gloom, y'd just see it as a cloud, y'know?"

[theauthorlives]

Other members of Mark's team were milling around, and Morgan was about to break several different rules about fraternization, but fuck it. This was their ship, they had just gone through an eternity of hell, and they had never wanted to kiss Yancy more in their life; so they did. A deep, desperate, searing kiss that was only broken for need of air. And then a second. And then a third. Their teeth definitely clinked together, but they couldn't have cared less. Morgan deserved this. ( B) )

@xshatteredreflectionsx

👀👀

-

Truthfully, Yancy wasn't completely sure what the fuss was about. Apparently, things had been looping, and the crew had been experiencing certain periods of time over and over again. He himself woke up with new tattoos (more fucking boxes. Wonderful! And his finger tattoos! He PAID for those?? Why the hell are they different??) but didn't remember much else. Everything was hazy, like dreams that had mashed together into one big compilation.

Even so, there was no ignoring the sheer delight across the ship, and he was happy to join in. The stress of everything was gone, and it did explain why he felt he had seen Morgan upset far too many times to count.

How many times did he comfort them in a closet, a bathroom, the dorms, inside the cryo tube, or anywhere else?

A request had been made by the computer voice for Yancy to get to the bridge, and fast. His co-workers gave him a look as he gathered his tools and hurried. He had been keeping out of trouble, and sticking to what he was allowed to do. In fact, nothing came to mind about why he could be summoned. All he could do was push down the fear that something happened to Morgan.

He barely got to the doors when he nearly crashed into Morgan, who actually seemed alive and well.

"Snap - er, Captain? Is there som -" was all he managed to say before he was yanked into the most passionate kiss they had shared since they started dating. Arms were quick to wrap around them and hold them close as they led the charge on the kissing. He hadn't expected them to be so open about their relationship, but he certainly wasn't complaining! He was the lucky guy that had been snagged by Morgan when he was at a low point in his life! He'd sing his affections if he was allowed!

Another kiss, and then another, and Yancy could feel himself getting lightheaded from both giddiness and the fleeting luxury of air. But what did it matter that the kisses were sloppy, rushed, and somewhat awkward? They were together, in public, for one of the first times in their entire relationship!

"God, I love you, Morgan. I love you so fucking much." Thankful he had taken off his gloves enroute, he rested his left hand on their cheek before leaning back in for another, more meaningful, kiss.