#but poor Moira

[roosterbox]

October Almost-Drabbles 10/11: Haunted

Pairing(s): Cherik (one-sided), Charles/Moira (implied)

Word Count: 686

Additional tags: modern AU, ghost!erik, cockblock!erik, jealous!erik, pining, angst, and they were roommates

Side note: finally something other than straight fluff, lmao. I swear I originally intended this to be slightly more comedic than angsty. But Erik said “No, I must pine,” and who am I to deny him? Also, the Cherik might not be completely one-sided, but Charles is a bit too angry and frustrated to deal with any other feelings, in this little fic at least.

———

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Charles, soaked through to the bone, glared at the apparition sitting at his table. The being didn’t look at him. Rather, they kept their focus on the kitchen sink currently gushing water out into the apartment floor. Gradually, the flow stopped.

“She wasn’t right for you,” Erik said. His ghostly voice was aloof, as if he couldn’t care less about Moira’s ruined outfit, or the money Charles would likely have to spend on repairs. He still wouldn’t meet Charles’ gaze, however.

“And you feel as if you have a say in the matter because…?”

The spirit didn’t answer. Charles wasn’t surprised. Just this once, he thought that bringing a date home might have gone alright. That they could have a nice meal, a fun evening, maybe even a nice second romp in the morning, before parting ways.

He should have known better.

“Look, Erik,” Charles let out a sigh, sitting down across from the figure that had once been a living man. He did his best to ignore the wet squelch of his pants and boxers as he sat. His next stop should definitely be his bedroom though, preferably before he started to chafe. “I already promised that I wouldn’t have you exorcised, or force you out. I said it, I meant it, and I don’t go back on my word. But-” the other man finally looked at him, and Charles again found himself wondering what color his eyes had been, when he was alive. “-but we’re roommates, essentially. Nothing more. I’ve got a life that needs living.” At Erik’s scowl, he added a quick, “no offense intended, of course.”

“She wasn’t right for you,” Erik repeated, a bit softer this time. Charles rolled his eyes. He’d begun shivering slightly, the cold Autumn air bleeding through the thin walls of his (their) apartment. He made a mental note to text Moira and make sure that she, similarly soaked as he, was safe and warm at home. For now, though, he rose up.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, voice flat. “Just as soon as I grab a few towels to…” he trailed off, watching the water recede, pool together, and evaporate in record time. Even the broken sink seemed to repair itself before his eyes. In any other circumstance, this would have been a shocking thing to witness. But after a year of living with a being such as Erik, almost nothing surprised him these days.

“Your clothes,” the ghost said, more apologetic than Charles expected.

“Never mind them. I’ll throw them in the wash.” He waved his hand dismissively, considering their conversation finished. “Good night, Erik.” An ironic sentiment, considering his evening after coming home had been anything but. He retreated to his bedroom, wet socks leaving a trail of footprints behind him, before closing the door, hard, behind him. A full stop on the end of an unspoken sentence. After a moment, the footprints evaporated too.

“Good night, Charles,” Erik said to the empty apartment kitchen. Now, alone again, it was his turn to sigh. To tuck his head into ghostly hands and wish, not for the first time nor the last, that the space in his chest where a heart may have resided didn’t clench so painfully any time he thought of himself without Charles. It wasn’t fair. He knew that. But at the same time…

He stood, in as much as an incorporeal being can, and made his way over to the closed door. Charles was showering. He could always tell where Charles was in this place, though he made sure never to peep or spy. And even now, while he could easily phase right through the wooden door, he only pressed a hand against it. Feeling the warm spirit radiating from the other man inside.

“Good night, Charles,” he said again, whispering as if he thought the other man might have heard him through the bedroom door and the en-suite. Other words burned in his stomach, but he knew there was really nothing more to say. Nothing that Charles would want to hear, at least.

[thing-with-wings]

disrespectfully, I will never get over that bit in gtn when harrow said "you are my whipping girl" like wooh okay, we're doing that? rip to my heart and soul.

[nyamcattt]

i saw a tweet someone made once that said, "moira and mercy bring that divorced energy that makes everyone uncomfortable." and they were so right!! there's even this voice line between them and wrecking ball 😭

[anthropologistfromentropy]

Don't they make such a great family?

Edik Razumovsky - Riddler (born in 1984)

Ilya Razumovsky (adopted American name Julian Devorak) - Plague Doctor (born in 1986)

Sergey Razumovsky - Citizen (born in 1989) (he and Moira are identical twins btw)

Moira O'Deorain (deadname Mikhail 'Misha' Razumovsky) - (haven't chosen an alias yet)

Gerasim Razumovsky - Party Poison (born in 1992)

Igor Grom is gonna have his hands full with this family of autistic and queer criminal geniuses! (And their partners: Penguin, Lucio, Oleg, Poison Ivy) They are badass, but also my poor traumatized babies 💔

[dawnthefox24]

Moira, Gabriel & Cole : *screaming* Jack and Ana: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Cole ?! Moira: *is a bit offended*Wait, why are you asking Cole that when Gabriel and I are also here? Ana: *pinches the bridge of her nose* Because Cole wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance. Jack: And clearly he screams for something you guys lack off...WHERE'S GENJI!! Moira and Gabriel:.... Ana: Cole where's Genji.... Cole: He's trying to have a 1v1 re-match with Lena!! AND HE"S NOT LISTENING TO ME!!! Ana:OH FOR THE LOVE OF-*takes off running to sedate Genji* Jack:*pinches the bridge of his nose* O'deorain....Reyes....Why wouldn't you stop Genji..... Moira and Gabriel:.... Jack: *looks at Cole* Cole answer Cole: Moira thought it would be funny and Gabriel didn't care in fact he actually encourage it. Jack: *rubs the side of his head getting a headache* Okay thank you for tell me....Reyes, O'deorain, you two are in big trouble once the dust settles down....So let's have a talk in the command room Moira and Gabriel:*know that that sounds really bad* Cole: *takes off running* I gotta help Ana in case Genji targets her!!

[hidingoutbackstage]

Claire Redfield + crying over the people who sacrificed themselves for her

[sleeplessdreamer14]

I’m just gonna say it; Moira would make a much better Dr. Frankenstein than Junkrat. If you’ve read Mary Shelley’s book, you know what I mean.

[theunspeakablehorror]

ah it appears my calculations were incorrect, prepare for infinite agony

[blackhillverse]

do i want to play black widow in the background while studying for my ukrainian grammar lecture, only to get mad halfway through because of how poorly this movie portrays slavic people or should i just study in silence.

[franchoucho]

ignore the poor quality but here's my (subject to change) impressions of the misericorde cast after volume 1

[azurelr]

Imagine buying Overwatch: Declassified just so you can skim through it for snippets of Moira lore, hahahaha not me <3

[locking-the-tomb]

Some idiot had painted him with the skull of the Anchorite dying.

That idiot probably being Ortus.

[maenage-a]

send LOST for a scene from my muse's past in which they felt lost, literally or figuratively 👁

[ 1956, new york harbor ]

''  mom?  ''   fresh tears follow the barely dried tracks of those that came before,  warm on flushed cheeks.  a wretched cough causes his thin shoulders to shake,  but the boy still refuses to let go of his mother's hand.   ''  why?  why aren't you coming with me?  ''   a sniff,  wet and miserable and small,  breaks the onslaught of questions.  moira calhoun is watching the harbor,  watching for the ship that will soon take her youngest son away,  her darling boy,  the one she had refused to keep away from his roots, from stories of her beloved moors and gaelic songs.   ''  m—  mom?  ''

suddenly,  his mother seems to thaw from the ice gripping her body,  hardening around her heart.  she wraps him in her arms,  holding him tight and when she lets go she still keeps him near:  hands around his cold face,  a fierce kiss to his forehead,  fingers swiping away tears and smoothing hair from his brow.  she thinks,  rather stupidly,  that she should have given him a haircut.  when she sees him again,  he will be all grown up and he will probably refuse to let her sit him down on a stool to cut his hair,  like she has done so many times.  for some reason,  this breaks her heart all over again.

❛  winston,  listen to me.  there is nothing for you here.  ❜   hands on his shoulders,  she silently begs him to stop crying,  because she doesn't know how much longer she will be able to stay strong while facing her son's pain.   ❛  stay strong, mo luaidh.  i need you to stay strong,  ❜   she adds,  giving him one last kiss on the cheek before drawing distance between them and allowing a sailor to grab his hand.

when she sees him again,  he will be a fine young man,  dark hair curling just slightly at the ends,  just like his father.

when she sees him again,  he will have learned not to wear his emotions so plainly,  for all to see.  but he will still smile at her.

glimpses of the past — @strangercrime

[smallhatlogan]

"Same face syndrome" is a term that very often isn't the exact literal same face and more like, "yeah they all look very samey and if you completely shave them and remove makeup/tattoos/etc someone who isn't a super dork about these characters is not going to be able to tell who is who."

and like, when all your women have the same soft, young, flawless features and generally like they've been carefully crafted to be conventionally attractive while your men have a wide range of often exaggerated features....

[yoursupportdaddy]

The FATTEST game last night, I'm really happy with how I played this game eeee

Alittle tiktok Moira but we honestly didn't need much healing the whole game - amazing when the team works together lmaoooo

I'm sorry Nelly- yes I did corner you in a room and destroy you, sometimes I just can't control my succ

[thegreencarousel]

Bahaha this enemy Lucio learnt the meaning of fuck around and find out, after he killed me three times in a row by solo flanking me as Ana, I was pissed off and swapped to Moira so that at the very least I can wraith away from him. We ended up winning after I went dps Moira on their team because he was too busy being flanking Lucio with only 11 elims to my 26 (and 3k heals to my 8k) and leaving his poor Mercy to solo heal. Should have left me alone to practice my mediocre Ana play lol