Unbreakable - A Beautiful Lie (AU M/L ADULT) COMPLETE 5/5/17 + A/N 5/5/19

This is the place to post stories that significantly alter the show's canon or mythology such as prequels, backgrounds for the characters that differ from on the show, fics where different characters are alien, and alternative family relationships. These fics must contain aliens or alien storylines as part of their plot.

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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 3, 5/26/15, p. 2

Post by begonia9508 » Tue May 26, 2015 8:51 am

Oh my! Nosy Liz got what she merited; the truth! :lol: But that she reacted quite unexpectedly, that was a surprise... :lol:

Let see how the others two aliens react! :shock: :roll:

EVE :mrgreen:
- Les jouissances de l'esprit sont faites pour calmer les orages du coeur!
- On reconnaît le bonheur au bruit qu'il fait quand il s'en va!
- L'amour vous rend aveugle et le mariage vous redonne la vue!

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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 3, 5/26/15, p. 2

Post by dreamon » Tue May 26, 2015 1:07 pm

Can't wait to see the drama unfold!
I have a few dreamer challenges in mind if you are looking for ideas so pm me!

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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 3, 5/26/15, p. 2

Post by saori_1902 » Tue May 26, 2015 5:28 pm

oh my :shock: :wink:

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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 3, 5/26/15, p. 2

Post by AlysLuv » Wed May 27, 2015 10:34 pm

Well that was embarrassing lol. I bet their going to say she was too drunk to notice :wink: but I bet she'll be very curious of vampires...or maybe little green men :mrgreen: :mrgreen:

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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 3, 5/26/15, p. 2

Post by Roswelllostcause » Thu May 28, 2015 10:47 am

Do you think that they will believe that Liz was too drunk to remember? Nope! Max is going to have a lot of explaining to do!
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http://www.roswellfanatics.net/viewtopi ... 1&t=155639

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Post by max and liz believer » Sat May 30, 2015 3:57 am

Carolyn (keepsmiling7)
What happens now??
A very valid question :wink: Thank you for the feedback! :D
L-J-L 76 - Whoa :shock: That's a lot of questions. And this fic will be producing a lot of questions. But they shall be answered - in time. Some, perhaps, in the next chapter. Thank you for your enthusiasm and feedback :D
Eve (begonia9508) - Let's see how it all unfolds… :roll: Thank you! :D
dreamon - Thank you! :D
saori_1902 - Thank you! :D
AlysLuv - Yep, embarrassing on a lot of levels :oops: Thank you for the feedback! :D
Roswelllostcause - Weeeell… :roll: Thank you for the feedback! :D


I swayed on the spot as my eyes met Max’s. Intense as usual. Burning into my very soul. But there was no smirk this time. No grin, chuckle, amusement or wink. The dark eyeliner seemed to emphasize fear.

Fear? Why would Max Evans be scared? He wasn’t the one standing in front of three intimidating people, having just witnessed something that shouldn’t be.

“Liz,” Max whispered and a flutter of heat brushed my heart. No one had ever said my name like that. In a whispered reverence of regret and pain.

“Max,” I answered with a croak, because I didn’t know what else to say.

Michael’s grip on my arm tightened, forcing my eyes away from Max’s confusing face as I felt another dizzy spell claim me.

“What did you see?” Michael hissed.

The floor started to tilt and I stumbled in attempt to right myself. The last thing I heard before my world went black was Max’s voice, calling my name. With the image of Max Evans healing Isabel Evans’ arm, I sank to the floor as my consciousness flickered out.


“Liz? Liz? Can you hear me?”

”Oh baby, you’re bleeding.”

I looked down at my scraped knee, feeling the steering of the bicycle jut into my thigh as it laid in odd angles on the ground. The blood was running down my leg and I swallowed, my field of vision shrinking with building panic.

My mom’s face hovered in front of the horror, grabbing my chin to make me look at her. “Are you okay, honey?”

“What did she see? Did she see you?”

“Shut up, Michael. She might hear you.”

“No… no, she’s unconscious. I can’t get in.”

There were soft touches against my cheeks, across my forehead. They were warm but fleeting. I struggled to pull myself out of the darkness, but it was too hard.

“How much has she had to drink?”

“How the hell should I know?!”

”Look!” a 7-year-old Maria called out, her fingers covered in white paint. As I watched, she put her fingers to the pink wall of my bedroom and traced a white line over the wallpaper. “I’m making the wall glow.”

Fear grabbed me. “No, Ria. They will see.”

Maria continued to paint. “It’s beautiful. Look!”

“Mom will be angry,” I tried.

The edges of the surroundings glowed brighter, forcing me to squint in the brightness. It only lasted for a couple of seconds before it snapped back to its original. Well, almost.

A 7-year-old dark-haired boy had taken Maria’s place. He turned to look at me with a small secretive smile lingering on his lips. “I can make it glow, too.”

Without a trace of paint on his fingers, the top of the boy’s index finger started to glow white and I felt the ground move beneath my feet, my hands tremble in fear, as his finger created long squiggly lines on my pink wallpaper.

When he was done, he took a step back and smiled at me brightly. “See?”

I looked at the wall and his ‘masterpiece’. His magic finger had painted three letters. L.I.Z.


The voice was so familiar, but simultaneously unknown. That voice was usually mocking, arrogant or amused. In that one short word I could only hear worry and fear. It made me fight harder to get back, to push away the darkness.

“Should we take her to the hospital? She might need to get her stomach pumped?” Isabel’s voice. She also sounded concerned.

“And risk her blabbering about what she saw?” Michael. He was not concerned. Well, not about my well-being at least.

“Why didn’t you search the room?” Isabel again.

“Oh excuse me. I didn’t know I was supposed to look behind desks.” Michael, tense and angry.

“We need to get her off the floor.” It was that worried voice again. Max.

I had troubles regaining full consciousness, but still felt his touch - in every cell of my body - when he pushed his arms between the floor and my slack body and scooped me upwards. I felt the warmth from his chest as I was pressed against it, felt the heat from his skin as my head lolled into the crook of his neck.

“What if she saw? Could you make her forget?”

Against the background of Isabel’s agitated voice, my body was slightly jostled along with the feeling of flying, before softness graced my back and Max’s body pulled away.

“I don’t know,” Max mumbled. “I’ve never done it. Maybe you, Iz?”

“I don’t think so… God, Max. What are we supposed to do? What if she tells someone-“

“No one will believe her,” Michael sneered.

“She’s smart, Michael. Everyone knows that. She, of anyone, will have credibility. I’ve seen her command an entire classroom during presentations with something as mundane as explaining the mechanism of a beetle’s life cycle.”

“So you think that she’s going to go up in front of a class and tell the tale of how she watched Max Evans heal a wound-“

“Shh,” Max’s abrupt fearful hiss interrupted Michael’s tirade. “She still has ears.” There was a pause, before Max added softly, “There’s still a chance she didn’t see anything.”

“Then what scared her? Something scared her, Maxwell.”

There was mere silence in response and in that silence the previous nausea I had fought a war with was rearing its ugly head again. The teasing of my gag reflex pushed me into stark awareness, flinging my eyes open.

I instantly got caught in Max’s dark eyes as I pressed my hand against my mouth.

“Sick,” I mumbled with a grimace, trepidation at what was about to happen causing sharp panic to race through me and I quickly moved into upright position. I watched Max’s eyes widen in understanding as I forced out, “I’m gonna throw up,” and tried to swallow back the catastrophe.

Max disappeared from my field of vision and my gaze flickered to Isabel’s, who was staring at me as if I was her executioner. Pale and frightened.

I made the mistake of looking to my left, into Michael’s black eyes, and my stomach content immediately pushed upwards with frightening intensity.

As it spilled over my lips, Max was suddenly there, his hand in my hair, trying to catch the tresses before they fell into the line of the vomit, and when I didn’t feel the gastric juices on my hands or down the front of my shirt I realized that Max was holding a bin under my chin.

“It’s okay. Get it out,” he murmured and I concentrated on the scorching heat from the pads of his fingers against my scalp where he had scrunched my hair up as my throat burned with the heaves.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Isabel mumbled.

“Deal with it, Maxwell,” Michael commanded and his ice-cold presence left the room. I got the distinct feeling he wasn’t only referring to me throwing up.

“I’m sorry,” Isabel whispered as I gagged again. “I can’t stay.”

And so we were alone.

I breathed heavily, my stomach was cramping and droplets of sweat were breaking out on my forehead, as I stared unseeingly into the black bin.

“Are you done?” Max asked and I felt mortification spread up the sides of my neck. His voice was back. That nonchalant, arrogant and bemused voice. Maybe I had only imagined the softness of his voice earlier; the concern, the worry, the care.

I nodded slowly, feeling incredibly self-conscious with droplets of vomit burning with humiliation on my chin and Max Evans holding a bin in his hand with the consequence of my drinking spree. I couldn’t look at him as he removed the bin, his hand falling away from my head making my hair cascade down my shoulders. The large curls in my normally straight hair - made to go with the costume - fell forward, creating a curtain around my face which I could hide behind as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Don’t you know your limit?” His voice was tense and annoyed and my tired mind tried to make sense of what he meant. My limit?

“Is this why you never attend parties, Ms. Parker?” Max continued and I felt his eyes on my profile, burning against the hair that was trying to hide the expressions on my face. “Because you can’t control how much you drink? Because you lack self-discipline?” He was seated on the edge of the bed, one foot on the floor, the other leg bent onto the bed, his knee almost brushing mine.

“No,” I whispered weakly, all strength having left my body. “It’s purely to avoid you.” In the light of my exhaustion, I felt myself getting worked up about his line of questioning. Who was he to judge my actions? What gave him the right to scold me like some child? It was after all, his party - a party with free alcohol supplied in great amounts. If he didn’t like his guests to get drunk, he shouldn’t throw these parties to start with.

Come to think of it, I could easily blame this whole disaster on him.

“Hm,” he answered curtly, quietly, before adding, “Just me?”

I turned my head to look at him and felt fear rush through me. Something deep inside of me, in the most primal instinctual parts of my being, was telling me that he was dangerous. That I should get as far away from him as possible. I had the feeling that there was something I should know, something I had forgotten. Something about Max Evans that was crucial to my existence.

His face was dark in the soft light of the bedroom, the small hint of make-up around his eyes accentuating his Dracula-impersonation as shadows darkened his features. My breath got stuck in my throat as his eyes locked with mine, piercing into my head.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered, my heart doing staccato movements, “Just you.” Goosebumps were spreading across my body and my heart was getting tired from the constant rhythm changes.

The right corner of his mouth lifted marginally as he breathed a calm and understanding, “I see.”

My eyes drifted to his lips, to that beginning of a smile, and a memory flashed on a photo of a smiling Max. Before the rational and normally sober part of Liz Parker could stop me, I had asked the question of, “Why don’t you ever smile? Like in the photos? The ones in the hallway? Like you’re happy?”

Something flickered in his eyes (shock? surprise? fear?), before a veil came down shutting off all expressions in his eyes. They turned cold and dark - like Michael’s. I automatically angled my upper body away from his.

But he followed my movement, leaning into me with one hand positioned next to me on the bed, the shape of his impressive upper body, with that large Dracula collar posed behind his neck making him seem even larger and more intimidating, looming over me until he had chased all warmness from my body. There was nothing in his eyes. Nothing. I could normally read a lot of emotions in those brown eyes of his (even if they weren’t the most pleasant emotions), but now they were just empty. It scared me more than Michael’s threatening dark eyes had done when I had regained consciousness earlier.

Why were they angry with me?

Why was I here?

My memory contained big dark holes and as I struggled to breathe in the cold presence of Max looming over me, I desperately wished for Maria to come and rescue me. Or anyone. If just someone could come and open the door so that I wouldn’t have to remain one more second in this confusing and surreal setting.

“What did you see?” Max Evans asked slowly, his voice low.



I wet my dry lips and clenched the bedspread under my hands in my fists as I leaned back even further, trying to put more distance between my interrogator and me.

Rain. He smelled like rain and the zing from summer thunderstorms.

“Before. When you were hiding. In my room.” He raised a pointed eyebrow and I saw a flicker of the Max that usually taunted my emotions, “Behind my desk. You saw something, didn’t you?”

I frowned, desperately searching my mind, my evasive memory. Had I? Had I seen something? I couldn’t even remember how I got into this room. The last thing I know I was looking for a toilet-

As the thought landed on the reason for venturing up to the second floor to start with, the matter of my full bladder rushed to the front of my mind and screamed - yet again - for attention.

“I need a toilet,” I answered, swallowing.

He frowned. “You’re feeling sick again?”

“I need to pee,” I whispered, figuring that my maximum for humiliation was already reached. I looked away from his face and repeated, “I really need to pee.”

I felt his eyes move over my face as I became aware of the noise from the party still going on downstairs. My attention was riveted back to him as his legs moved, his knee briefly brushing against mine, making my breath hitch, before he stood tall next to the bed, holding his hand out for me.

“Come on,” he said simply, eyes calmly on my face.

I shook my head at his offered hand and started scooting off the bed. “I can do it.”

He folded his arms across his chest and took a step back, leaving me space to get off the bed. “I’m sure you can.”

I ignored the hint of amusement in his voice and placed my feet on the floor. Of course, as Max probably already had anticipated - considering his amused statement - my legs weren’t prepared for my weight, folding underneath me like a stack of cards.

His hand was around my upper arm in a second and an odd combination of fear and desire flushed my body at the contact. Irritation was not far behind as I pulled back harshly, amazingly managing to not fall over, as I ripped my arm out of his grip, and bit out a “I said, I can do it.”

He held his hands up in front of him in wordless surrender, mirth playing around his lips. I grabbed onto the cover of the bed, trying to get my bearings, regain my balance, and felt myself grow even angrier as I could practically feel him laughing at me. Even though there was no sound between us but my erratic breathing.

“Very funny,” I grumbled.

“I didn’t say anything,” Max objected evenly.

“I can practically hear your thoughts,” I mumbled, before straightening and squaring my shoulders.

I looked at him just in time to see his eyes widen in mock trepidation. “You can?”

I squeezed my eyes tightly closed as another wave of lightheadedness swirled through my head. “Toilet. Please.”

My eyes sprung open at his chuckle, but his merriment didn’t quite reach his eyes. They were conflicted, almost haunted, as he pointed at the door. “This way, my lady.”

The walk to the bathroom was one of the worst walks I’ve ever done. The floor was unsteady, Max’s eyes were burning a path down my back and his presence was making me feel both protected and terrified.

But wasn’t that how vampires operated? Wasn’t that what books and movies had always tried to teach us? That vampires were designed to be irresistible, even against our own innate warning bells of danger.

“To your left,” Max said behind me as I passed a door left ajar.

Without a word I pushed the door open and reached for the switch, at the same time as Max did. Our hands collided and I quickly pulled my hand back as a jolt passed between us.

“Sorry,” Max mumbled behind me and for some inexplicable reason decided to explain the phenomena. “Must be the cape. Static electricity.”

Uh-huh, sure, I thought, but couldn’t be bothered to assign more thoughts to it than that. Instead I let my eyes peruse the bathroom in front of me. It was huge. I could probably fit my bedroom into it and throw in half of the living room. It was completely white, from floor to ceiling. There was a large white bathtub in the center of the room, a toilet to my right opposite two sinks, and in corner there were-

“You have armchairs in the bathroom?” I asked incredulously as my gaze fell on the two small white fluffy armchairs next to a round table. “What for? You invite your friends to watch you while you go to the toilet? Or do you have meetings in here? Drink coffee?”

I could feel him standing behind me as a took another step into the stark whiteness.


I froze as I felt his breath behind my ear sending shivers down my neck, raising the small hairs on my arms as he answered my questions with a voice dripping with seduction that shot straight to the core of my body, “That’s where I could be sitting were you to take a bath, Ms. Parker. You know, keeping you company. To offer my assistance…” his voice dropped lower “…in certain areas.”

My mouth went dry at his suggestion and I barely managed to turn around without tripping, to glare at him. My glare faltered as my eyes collided with the laughter dancing in his dark eyes. It wasn’t the implied intimacy in his gaze that confused my mission to put him on his spot, but the warmness in his eyes. The hint of happiness and laughter, of all walls behind his eyes being gone. I swallowed. His eyes were a new level of intimacy that his stereotypic words could never get close to.

“And what makes you think that I would take a bath in front of you?” I asked, keeping my voice level, crossing my arms over my chest as I squared my shoulders.

He caught a tendril of my hair between his fingers, catching my breath along with it, as his fingers lightly brushed my cheek while tucking the elusive hair behind my ear. “You always do. All of you.” He licked his lips slowly, his bemused eyes dropping to my mouth. “Sooner or later.”

I frowned, letting annoyance rule over the desire he was pushing at in the pit of my stomach, “All of us?”

Amusement danced in his eyes, a smirk claimed his sensual lips as he brushed his fingers along my jawline on their return from tucking my hair in place. “All of you girls.”

I flushed at his outright arrogance, at his self-absorption and narcissism, and took a step backwards, away from his enticing touch. My eyes were dark with anger - and a sliver of disappointment - as I stared at him coldly, “Well, I’m not one of your girls. And I never will be.” Raising a trembling hand to point at the door I added curtly, “If you excuse me. I need some one-on-one with the toilet. And you are not invited.”

He chuckled and gave me a mock salut, his body straightening as his clicked his heels together. “Aye aye, my lady.” He walked backwards out of the room, his eyes clinging to my body as he repeated the slow once over of my body he had done earlier that night, and with a hand on the doorknob, he added, “Let me know if you need some…uhm,” his eyes heated as his eyes stopped on my lips, “…assistance.”

Anger heated my cheeks - and something else that I would rather not admit. “Get out!”

He grinned and stepped out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him.

Last edited by max and liz believer on Sat Jul 01, 2017 6:50 am, edited 2 times in total.
Unbreakable (M/L, AU)
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 4, 5/30/15, p. 3

Post by Natalie36 » Sat May 30, 2015 6:11 am

just started reading and boy max is a cocky s.o.b :lol:

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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 4, 5/30/15, p. 3

Post by Roswelllostcause » Sat May 30, 2015 7:20 am

Max really just needs to stop acting like an ass!
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 4, 5/30/15, p. 3

Post by mela3 » Sat May 30, 2015 7:34 am

I love this story. I like this new Max and I cannot wait tower how it all develops.
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Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 4, 5/30/15, p. 3

Post by begonia9508 » Sat May 30, 2015 7:53 am

Oh my! that was an experience, for Liz! :lol:

Next time, she will certainly avoid unknown rooms! :lol: :lol:

But Max is just... indefinable, and being an alien seems not to disturb him that much at all... :lol:

Let see how it will go on! Waiting and thanks EVE :mrgreen:
- Les jouissances de l'esprit sont faites pour calmer les orages du coeur!
- On reconnaît le bonheur au bruit qu'il fait quand il s'en va!
- L'amour vous rend aveugle et le mariage vous redonne la vue!

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