HI ‼️‼️
can i get uhhhh help w a ydau and wdau for a second??
for the ydau, i need fusions between yellow diamond + a demantoid, yellow diamond + a rose quartz (not PD), yellow diamond + yellow spinel and yellow diamond + a default version of blue pearl - yellow is undercover as mali garnet btw
i also need help w the demamtoid's components (rubies n sapphires are roleswapped in the au if that helps lol)
for the wdau, i need a few ideas on a multicolored quartz white can go undercover as
as well as fusions between that quartz and
-a hessonite
-a flint
-a default version of pink pearl
Yeah absolutely!!
Yellow + Demantoid = sphene, parti sapphire
Yellow + a Rose Quartz = tangerine quartz, honey stone
Yellow + Yellow Spinel = golden beryl, yellow calcite
Yellow + Blue Pearl = green moissanite, fuchsite?
Ahh, so you would like the Demantoid to still be a Ruby + Sapphire fusion, but with different types of corundum?
Demantoid = green sapphire + ruby, yellow sapphire + blue sapphire?
For the WD!AU could you explain what 'default version' means before I give my answer?
Other than that:
I feel like White Diamond could make a decent Iris Agate, Rainbow Quartz, or Herkimer Diamond?
IA, RQ, or HD + Hessonite = rainbow scapolite, rainbow pyrite, welo opal
IA, RQ, or HD + Flint = rainbow moonstone, rainbow hematite, opalite?
IA/RQ/HD + Default!Pink Pearl = angel skin opal, (pink?) moissanite, perhaps scallop pearl?
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For Malex, an au where they go on road trips to save aliens... whether or not they figured their shit out between them before or during is up to you
(like I mentioned, I went stray here, so they are saving aliens! through the rigorous process of record collection)
**
Colorado
Near Colorado Springs, they break into a facility near the Air Force base and discover what looks like an escape pod. It has some of the familiar components that Alex recognizes from Michael’s sketches and drawings. It’s a ship of its own and it clicks for him probably a few seconds after it does for Michael.
“Is this what you’ve been trying to rebuild?” Alex wonders out loud.
Numbly, Michael nods, like he can’t believe that he has a schematic to mimic. Alex doesn’t want to think about Michael leaving the planet, but faced with an actual escape pod, it’s hard not to. They take the escape pod out of the facility and load it up into their truck without any more conversation about what they’re going to do with it when they get back.
It’s their third stop on a grand tour of suspected sites they’re checking out. By all rights, these are abandoned sites now that Jesse’s support of Project Shepherd has dried up, but after Caulfield, they both know it’s better safe than sorry to make that assumption.
It’s why Alex has a gun and they have a rule.
If something looks like it’s a bad idea, then they both need to get the hell out of there before they end up blowing yet another building sky-high because they were impetuous and short-sighted and emotional. It’s bad enough they did that to their relationship the first time around. So far, they’ve stuck to that rule and it’s been serving them well. It’s also allowed them to survive the road trip, so far.
This trip is meant to serve a few purposes, namely three that Alex can specifically name. The first is checking to see that all the sites are closed down. The second is to see if anyone is still out there furthering Jesse’s cause.
The last and most terrifying point of this trip?
“Nothing like some good old-fashioned therapy,” Michael calls it, sitting in the truck after they load up the escape pod. “You and me stuck in a truck for hours on end is bound to fix at least one or two things.”
“There’s always the tape deck,” Alex says, reaching for the glove compartment where Michael used to keep his tapes, only to find that the ribbon of every single one of them has been yanked out – on purpose. He gives Michael a glare, because he has a sneaking suspicion how that happened. “…Guerin.”
“I got tired of listening to Garth Brooks, so sue me,” Michael replies, whistling innocently as he keeps his eyes forward. The escape pod is in the bed of the truck next to the other artifacts they’ve picked up (nothing as sensational as the escape pod, but the box of files from Santa Fe and the schematics for a new facility from Pueblo are still better in their hands than in someone else’s).
They’re onto their next stop when suddenly Michael pulls off the highway in a frantic rush.
“What the fuck?” Alex snaps. “Guerin! Is someone trailing us? Did I miss someone?”
Michael says nothing, he just puts his foot down on the gas and keeps driving. Alex’s paranoia begins to increase and he wonders if he’d missed someone when they’d left the Colorado Springs facility until Michael parks in a mostly empty lot and Alex sees what the fuss is about.
Alex stares through the windshield, leaning all the way forward so he can see it all.
“Guerin,” Alex says flatly. “Did you just risk our lives merging through five lanes of traffic so you could see a bug?”
Michael’s out of the car in a flash, smirking at Alex as he heads for the placard in front of the gigantic looming thing. Sighing, Alex abandons the ruined tapes and decides that whatever weird obsession this is, he might as well entertain it. Heading out of the truck, he’s careful on his prosthetic as he follows Michael and comes to a stop near a sign that deems the bug ‘Herkimer’.
“It’s a bug.”
“Nah,” Michael says, “it’s not just a bug, it’s the world’s largest beetle. Have some respect, Alex.”
He shakes his head, not sure why he should be respecting anything. They have to keep driving North so they can hit Wyoming, but the moment he tries to open his mouth and say so, he stops when he sees the look of longing on Michael’s face as he stares at a bug.
He seriously can’t have that many complex emotions about the thing, can he?
“Max and Isobel, they always took road trips when they were kids. Max used to bring back postcards from all the roadside stops. I asked my foster father at the time if we could take a road trip that summer from Roswell up to Colorado. It wasn’t much, I figured. I even offered to pay for the gas. The drunk asshole actually promised it to me, too.”
Alex has a bad feeling he knows how this story ends, because Michael never came to school boasting about what he’d seen on his summer vacation.
“What happened?”
“Oh, you know,” Michael says dismissively, turning away from the beetle. “He wrecked his truck and told me it just wasn’t going to work out, because I was asking too much. I learned to stop doing that pretty quickly.” He’s already on his way back to the truck before Alex can react, not fond of the emotional whiplash, but also knowing that Michael’s done it on purpose to protect himself from appearing vulnerable.
Alex gives the beetle one last look, and he digs out his phone to take a selfie with it, figuring that maybe later, he can send it to Michael. It’s not like they’re going to have show and tell when they get back to Roswell, but at the same time, what’s the harm in a few road trip souvenirs that they can both share in?
*
Wyoming
In Wyoming, they raid a small office building in the early hours of the morning and find employment records dating back to the second world war. There are more names here than Alex feels comfortable with, but he takes pictures of every page as backup before he slides them back into their folders. That box of files earns a home beside the escape pod and nestled with the schematics, as chilling as anything else they’ve found.
“I need a drink,” Alex insists, even though he knows for a fact that Michael is trying his hardest to avoid alcohol and acetone. He feels guilty as soon as he’s said it, thinking that he can wait until he’s back in Roswell to go over the records with a glass of neat whiskey. He doesn’t need to shove that in Michael’s face.
Michael doesn’t seem too angry with Alex’s slip. “I think I’ve got something better.”
That’s how they wind up in Jackson in another beat-down parking lot without a soul in it, except for them. This time, Alex finds himself staring up at a very confusing World’s Largest, and he digs out his phone to look something up. “You know the internet says that there’s a bigger one in Texas,” Alex says, glancing up at the roadside attraction.
Who the hell would want to build the World’s Largest Ball of Barbed Wire?
“I guess everything’s gotta be bigger in Texas, even their torture devices.” It’s a bad joke, but Michael doesn’t look happy to crack it, scowling up at it even though he’s the one who decided they should come here.
Alex wonders if Michael is thinking about the torture devices that the Manes and Valenti dynasties used on his family, and if he’s not yet, he’s sure it’s only a matter of time. Action is required. He digs out his phone and gestures for Michael. “Come here,” he says.
Michael gives Alex and his phone a wary look, but ambles closer to him, leaning back against the small fence that stands between them and the barbed wire. “Don’t tell me Isobel got you into Instagram,” he pleads.
“Who says I’m not already huge there?” Alex deadpans, even though he knows better than to put that much information in a public domain and absolutely wouldn’t even think about putting the details of his and Michael’s journey anywhere online. His location has been off since Roswell and while it’s not a burner phone, he does intend to destroy the sim card when this is all said and done. “Come here,” he says again, and gestures for Michael get close to him.
Michael drifts in close enough that Alex can smell the faint hint of his bodywash. For one brief moment, he closes his eyes and inhales, lets that smell of safety, security, and home wash over him. Then, he opens his eyes and gets the front-facing camera ready, pressed shoulder to shoulder with the barbed wire sticking out in the background. Michael’s smiling, even if he looks like he doesn’t believe that they’re doing this, and Alex looks smugly proud.
It’s a great picture.
“Come on, I think I saw a diner back a few exits,” Michael says, his gaze lingering over Alex before he finally steps away. “You can get a beer, I’ll get a milkshake.”
“Is it Wyoming’s biggest?”
Michael licks his lips, and he climbs on the truck’s step, leaning over it as he looks at Alex. “Doubt it, but I bet you that if you’re there with me, it’ll definitely be Wyoming’s best.”
He ducks into the truck, which is good because it means he misses the flush Alex gets in his cheeks. Staring down at the picture in front of the barbed wire, Alex sees the way Michael’s turned his head a little for the photo and how he’s staring reverently at Alex, a half-lidded look in his eye, like he’s suddenly remembered Alex is there, like he thinks he might want to kiss him.
Alex remembers all those looks enough to feel like the expert when it comes to Michael Guerin when he wants to kiss him. Maybe at the end of all this, when they’ve worked through the question of whether they can even do this together, he’ll get that back.
For now, he’ll stick with giant barbed wire and milkshakes.
*
New Mexico
They loop back around and take the long way home, finally hitting Alamogordo in the early hours of the morning. Alex had fallen asleep to the sound of Michael humming, not the greatest substitute for the broken tapes, but really not so bad.
(If he stops lying, he’d admit that it’s the best sound in the world)
“Hey,” Alex says, after checking his phone to make sure that he’s got the information right. The search had been a bust. Whatever had once been in the jail is long gone, which is both good news and bad – it means that no one’s committing any heinous crimes, but their information is out of date, so who knows what else might be wrong.
They’ve just finished dinner and they’re in the middle of the drive back. Alex had woken up from his nap to see a roadside sign passing and it had been almost perfect timing.
“Take the next exit,” he insists.
Michael gives Alex a wary look, but the amount of unspoken trust he has in Alex is clear when he takes the exit without a single other question about why he’s doing it. Alex smiles proudly when Michael doesn’t ask for directions, clearly understanding what they’ve turned off to see.
He parks them as close as they can get to what a sign proclaims the World’s Largest Pistachio and the grin on Michael’s face is worth everything in the world. He’s out of the car and he’s the one who calls Alex over so they can take a picture.
This time, Alex makes sure that when he clicks the button, he’s the one staring at Michael like he’s the incredible roadside attraction instead of the weird pistachio behind them. It’s such a stupid thing, and it means nothing, and at the same time, being here to look at this tourist trap means everything to him because of how isolated and abandoned it is.
It’s like it’s a monument built for them alone and they’d better appreciate it, because no one else will.
“Thanks, Alex,” Michael says. “I’m nuts about it.”
He’s smirking and clearly proud of his stupid pun. The shame of it is that so’s Alex, because he’s grinning at him and thinking that maybe this trip is something they both needed. They’ve been sharing motel rooms, but sleeping in separate beds. They sit on the same side of the booth at diners and pick off one another’s plates, but they haven’t kissed or touched or fucked.
Yet, this trip has felt like one of the most intimate things he’s ever done.
The rest of the drive home is filled with light conversation as they swap stories about the days in Roswell before Michael turned up. Alex tells him stories about Max and Isobel in elementary school, like how Isobel had managed to make herself a little cult that had to wear glitter on Thursdays or how Max had constantly submitted awful romantic poems to the literary digest (and since no one else did, they were all his).
Michael tells Alex about high school and the things Alex hadn’t noticed, like how he’d used his powers to fuck with Kyle – including the time Kyle had tripped on the bleachers and wound up with a melon-sized bruise on his ass for a week. He’s laughing so hard that his stomach hurts and though Kyle’s his friend now, he’s so grateful to find out that there’d been some vindication back then, even if they’d all had to treat them as accidents.
They reach Roswell in the early evening.
Michael drives Alex to his cabin so they can drop off all the rescued pieces in the basement where they’ll be protected by Alex’s new state-of-the-art security system. Once they’ve unloaded everything, Alex feels himself searching desperately for any excuse for Michael not to leave. “You know,” he says. “I bet you Roswell’s got something.”
Michael glances up from where he’s been hanging around by the door, checking on the escape pod for the tenth time (which is why Alex feels pretty confident that he doesn’t want to go either).
All that time together and it’s shown them that they don’t actually want to be apart. The pieces want to be together. It just turns out that maybe they’re a pair of stubborn asshole pieces who can’t admit to it, not until they go on a three-week road trip around the Southwest to look for alien artifacts and proof that Project Shepherd is dust.
“Roswell’s got plenty of shit. You might have to get more specific than that,” Michael replies, not following.
“I mean, of the biggest,” Alex says, seeing as Michael had started that pattern. “Or are you telling me that you can die happy now that you’ve seen the world’s biggest beetle,” he deadpans.
Michael considers that for a moment, prying his cowboy hat off his head as he moseys Alex’s way, slow and steady, an amused smirk on his lips. It’s the smile of a man who has something clever he wants to say, but he’s the only one thinking it’s any kind of clever at all.
“Well,” he begins, considerately, “there is always the city’s biggest dick that you could take a look at,” he drawls, with an inclination of his gaze down towards his belt buckle.
Two can play that game.
“Oh?” Alex replies easily. “Is Kyle back in town?”
He’s lucky that Michael laughs instead of the scowl he’d half been expecting, but what Alex hadn’t anticipated is the way that Michael slides his fingers around Alex’s neck for a kiss that he’s been waiting for since they first set out on the road trip. He’s so proud of them for being mature and talking, making things work while acknowledging that they don’t have to get physical, but god, has Alex missed being kissed by Michael.
He tangles his fingers in Michael’s curls, grabs hold and squeezes the soft curls in his hands as he kisses Michael back, fully aware that he’s being shut up for making bad jokes, but definitely not mad with this punishment. Maybe they can’t compete for some of the world’s biggest anythings that they’ve seen, but Alex is counting the world’s longest kiss one of these days, and if he can’t manage that, then maybe he’ll go for the world record when it comes to kissing the man you love.
Not that he wants anyone stopping to take pictures of that, so maybe that’s one of those feats that’s best kept to themselves.
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