#here i was thinking i'd be able to get the death note box set that i've had my eye on

[diseaseriddencube]

my quest to get the akudrive stage play just keeps getting more absurdly expensive (despair) (literally $6.31 in my bank account rn) (why did i do this to begin with)

[smartzelda]

Might I have some of your finest beyondtsuda or mikamatsu (is that their ship name?) headcanons on this joyous day?

Oooooh hoo hoo

Anon I would be delighted

ㅤ

Beyondtsuda

Okay so when it comes to Beyond Birthday ships, one of my favorite things is him finding little pieces of A in the people he likes. However, with that all being said, I actually don't see Matsuda as being incredibly similar to A (personal A headcanons and all that), so I'd like to think that BB grasps on to some of those little things he can find that reminds him of A, but he also...actually has to get to know Matsuda

With that all being said, because of how far removed they are physically in canon, I generally headcanon their meeting to be something by chance. In a canon setting for example, perhaps they happen to cross paths on the street or in a shop or cafe because BB is tracking L and Matsuda is out (most likely to do something for L, or perhaps related to his brief manager duties). Or maybe they even meet in task force headquarters, because Matsuda just so happens to be the first person B runs into

Idk I guess to sum it up best, I think their first meeting would undoubtedly be one of chance (be at least somewhat L related), and I think while BB upon growing feelings would draw similarities between him and A he would ultimately realize how different they are

It's like the idea of "What if we were strangers? What if we didn't know each other because you aren't a mirror of me? What if we actually had to learn to know each other?" with a sprinkle of "I couldn't help but latch onto the ways you remind me of the person I once loved, but I know you are NOT them"

Okay okay perhaps I should add a silly headcanon in here for your enjoyment

Beyond and Matsuda would bond over mutual enjoyment of magical girl anime/manga. BB infodumps about Akazukin Chacha, Matsuda talks about Princess Tutu and Sailor Moon. They watch Madoka together.

ㅤ

MikaMatsu

Funnily enough, if I had to draw a thread between these two ships, it would be that Beyondtsuda share the capacity to bond over L and Mikamatsu share the capacity to bond over Light. Dunno why that trope has me in a chokehold. Anyhow

I like to think that Matsuda would have visited Mikami in prison (in the manga canon setting) before Mikami "mysteriously died"

The Kira reveal was a *lot* for the two of them in different ways, and given how they were narratively placed as opposites ("the man Light chooses as his most devoted pawn and could successfully rely on, who only knows Light as Kira the god" vs "The man Light thought would swing to his side, who he thought he may be able to rely on in the end, who knew Light as Light Yagami the man, son of Soichiro Yagami and L's only friend"), I quite like the idea of them...wondering what it was like for the other

I like the idea of Matsuda being curious despite everything, unwilling to really write the man he'd trusted off as wholly bad and seeking to know the man that Mikami knew. And Mikami, while yellow box and the shock of his "god"'s apparent humanity leads him to grapple over the idea of 'renouncing the false god' or possibly even twisting truth for the sake of his own mind (so he doesn’t have to contend with his actions possibly servicing "bad"), I think at heart he too would be curious as to the Light that Matsuda knew. Ultimately, I would headcanon their first real meeting, their getting to know each other, as a tragedy. No matter how close they manage to grow, whether they are open to or even can understand each other, in the end Mikami will die

Now, on a less angsty (but still a bit so) note. One of my favorite headcanons is the idea of them becoming roommates post L's death during the timeskip. It's just hilarious to me to imagine Gevanni investigating Matsuda's roommate, and it's fun to imagine how they would be as roommates. Ultimately, I actually headcanon that Matsuda can decently cook, so I think it would be interesting for them to start out as roommates who barely interact, but then become the kind of roommates who collaborate on dinner and teach each other different skills and air out some of their frustrations. I also think it adds even a tad bit more complexity to Matsuda's own feelings about Kira if he's stuck between a rock (Mikami clearly being a Kira supporter) and a hard place (being a part of the Kira task force, which is full of quite a lot of heavy anti Kira people). And while I think it's more realistic that they would grow some manner of feelings for each other (not necessarily ones they can pinpoint as romantic or sexual at this time, but not exactly platonic either) but any realization of feelings would be overshadowed by their current duties/goals and their separate devotion to Light (and their own feelings for him), I think it's also fun to imagine them as sort of a...roommates with benefits situation

Okay okay now for something a lil silly

I personally headcanon Mikami as aroaspec but also gay, but I think it would be insanely funny if Teru Mikami just found himself at a random time completely down bad for Touta Matsuda. Like, while he's not 100% sure of the nature of any of his feelings nor do I think he takes the time to think about this, at least him being down bad for kami-sama makes sense to him, but when it happens regarding Matsuda? I think he would just think in his head randomly "Why him? Kira is someone whom I respect and adore, someone who I feel a connection to. Why can't I stop thinking about this dude??"

ㅤ

Anyways, thank you very much, anon! Your ask has made this day much joyous for me!!

[barclaysangel]

Andy, Junior, and Percy Jackson (Chucky season 2 rewrite fic, drabble 3/4)

Here is the third drabble! Just one more drabble will be posted on Sunday, hopefully I'll be able to write more later on. I'd prefer it if you read them in the order they are posted. PLEASE leave notes and comment what you think because comments help fuel our motivation since @streets-in-paradise and I worked on this AU together and one day, the fic will finally be written!

Thank you and enjoy! :)

Word count: 1.8K

Junior had been quiet that day. 

This wasn’t the first time that Andy has seen Junior be this quiet, not making any sarcastic remarks, jokes, or smiling just a little but it never met his eyes. It happened plenty of times already, but it didn’t make Andy any less worried whenever it did occur. 

The reasons for Junior shutting down were always different. Sometimes after a bad nightmare, he’d be quiet the next day, or it would be after opening up a little too much for the kid’s liking about his father. He’d go almost completely silent. 

But Andy knew that neither of those triggered this new episode. The night before, Junior had been talking about his mother. Bree Wheeler was still a touchy subject, even more so than her husband, but Junior talked about her this time. 

“I already enjoyed reading Greek mythology,” Junior had told Andy that night, “I was so fascinated with the stories of the Greek gods. Then my mom heard about these books and got me the first set. I was already hooked just after the first page.” 

The books Junior was referring to were all five books of Percy Jackson and the Olympians, tapping his fingers on the box the books were contained in. 

Okay, yes, Junior may have mentioned once that those were one of his favorite book series. Andy knew he could’ve just gotten one, but he splurged and bought them all. He figured the kid would want something to keep him entertained when he went on his weekly supply run, rather than to resort to cutting off pieces of Chucky’s plastic skin whenever he got bored. 

“She always knew me like the back of her hand. Sometimes even better than I knew myself.” Junior was speaking kindly of his mother but his eyes and smile were melancholic. 

Andy knew how much the kid loved talking about Bree, but it wasn’t a secret that he was still taking her loss hard. How could the kid move on, even after knowing that Chucky was responsible for her sudden death and it wasn’t by her own hands? 

Junior was grieving and unable to move forward. He couldn’t blame him, he’d be the exact same way if he saw his mother die the way the kid did. Junior lost the last person in his life that truly loved him. And in a way, so did Andy. Even though the adult’s mother was still alive, he had to stay away. He couldn’t bear it if he lost her too just like how he lost Kyle. 

So it wasn’t a complete surprise when Junior went quiet the next day, running almost on autopilot. There wasn’t a lot Andy could do to bring him out of that state, just be by his side and make sure he ate. 

The eating part was never the easiest when the kid was like this, he never had an appetite and spent most of breakfast pushing the food around with his fork before actually having a few bites. But Andy still made sure Junior had some food in his system and let him know that he was there for him. 

Junior would always say he was fine or hum affirmatively whenever the adult asked if he was okay. That was never true and Andy would have to pretend that he didn’t notice how Junior would come back after collecting wood for the fire with red tinged eyes as if he had been crying. 

Andy knew that he couldn’t push him to open up. Too much pressure and the kid would snap at him, making all the work he had done to get Junior to trust him come crumbling down. He had to be patient and take things slow, just let him know that he would always be there if the kid needed to talk and let him come to Andy. 

By nighttime, Junior seemed to relax slightly. He was still quiet but began talking a little more with Andy when the older man spoke rather than just nod his head in agreement. Baby steps, but it was certainly something and he would gladly take it. 

Even though the kid seemed to be doing a little bit better, Andy still felt the need to check up on him. And that’s what he did, peering into Junior’s room since the door was still open. He was already lying down on his cot, a few blankets over him, and staring up at the ceiling. The sight was a little concerning and the adult only relaxed when Junior finally blinked, assuring that he wasn’t dead. 

After a moment, Andy lightly knocked on the door. “Can I come in?” He asked, waiting for the kid to nod before walking inside the bedroom. Andy sat down on the edge of the cot, looking over at the kid who still had his eyes trained on the ceiling. “How are you doing, kid?” 

Junior didn’t say anything for a few seconds before he shrugged his shoulders up and down. “I…I’m alive. That’s all.” 

It wasn’t much of a response, yet that was something Andy was willing to work with. “Good. I’m glad you’re alive.” He told him genuinely and caught a glimpse of the corners of Junior’s lips turning upward just slightly. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” The kid muttered and Andy took that as another win. Sometimes Junior would say something about how he wished he wasn’t alive and then chalk it up as a joke. But the adult always knew he wasn’t joking, and it would break his heart. 

However, this time he agreed with Andy’s words, which was a step in the right direction. 

The adult paused for a moment, thinking of the right things to say. “You know, if you ever wanna talk…I’m right here. I can only listen if you want. I just want you to know that you’re not alone.” 

Junior nodded, finally turning his head enough to look at Andy. “I know…I just…don’t really feel like talking right now,” he said quietly, “but…maybe tomorrow? If-if I feel better.” 

Andy sent him a reassuring smile while nodding. “Yeah, of course. It doesn’t even have to be tomorrow, it can be whenever you feel like. Okay?” 

The kid’s lips tilted upward again, another sign of improvement. “Mhm, okay…thanks.” 

“No problem, kiddo.” He told him before he happened to look over at the Percy Jackson box set that was beside the cot, leaning over to gently nudge it with the tip of his boot. “You haven’t read these yet?” 

“Not yet. I haven’t felt like reading, but I’ll get to it.” Junior said before pausing, looking like an idea came to him before he spoke again. “Can you…can you read it to me?” 

Andy paused briefly. “I don’t know about that, Junior…” 

“Please Andy?” He asked again, now pouting. 

“I don’t think I’d make a very good narrator—” 

“I don’t care, just…please?” 

The longer the adult looked at him, the more his resolve started to fall down. God, it was getting a lot harder and harder to say no to Junior. 

Finally, he sighed quietly. “Okay, what book do you want me to read?” 

The kid’s eyes twinkled in delight when Andy gave in. “The first one, ‘The Lightning Thief’. I want to feel like I’m seven years old again.” 

He smiled slightly and nodded, leaning over to pick up the first book from the box set. Once it was in his hands, Junior scooted further to the edge of the cot to give more room for Andy, allowing him to sit down comfortably with his back resting against the wall. 

While Andy wasn’t very comfortable in his narrating abilities, he just couldn’t refuse the kid, especially when he was starting to open up a little more. “Okay, kid…” he opened up the book and flipped past a couple pages until he landed on the first chapter, “‘Chapter 1: I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher’? Holy shit, that’s how this book is gonna start?” 

“Just read it!” When Andy looked down at him, Junior was smiling. This was a real smile, his first one of the entire day. It made something in his chest feel warm. 

Well, now he just had to read it to him. 

The adult chuckled under his breath before beginning. “‘Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.’” 

And with that, Andy started reading the book. He understood what Junior meant about getting hooked after the first page because he was hooked as well. He continued reading and checking up on the kid every now and then, spotting Junior looking relaxed and smiling, giggling at any of the funny parts. 

Halfway through the second chapter, Andy peered over and noticed that the teenager had fallen asleep. He couldn’t help but to smile at the sight, noting how peaceful the kid looked as he slept. Good. He needed some peace in his life. 

Well, Andy had to make sure to be quiet as he left, he didn’t want Junior to wake up. The kid needed to get as much sleep as possible, he was still a growing boy. Maybe he’ll make some pancakes with coffee tomorrow, he knows how much Junior likes his homemade pancakes, especially when he mixed in some blueberries— 

Oh…oh shit.

At that moment, a thought suddenly occurred to him. As he looked at the teenager sleeping, he finally understood what the warmth that was growing inside of his chest meant. 

He saw Junior as the son he never had. 

Now, Andy always cared for the boy since the moment he basically dropped on his doorstep. And the more Junior opened up, the more he began to care for him. Junior told him about his past with his father, how Chucky manipulated him, and Andy always felt this wave of protectiveness washing over him. He had to protect him. 

Was this how his mother felt? Seeing her newborn son for the first time, holding him in her arms and willing to do anything to keep him safe? 

Junior wasn’t his child, not by blood, but Kyle wasn’t his sister by blood either. If he could see Kyle as his sister, then he could see Junior as his son. 

Andy would do everything he could to keep the kid out of harm's way. To make sure that nothing and no one will ever hurt him again. He’d give his life just to make sure Junior lived because he couldn’t bear it if he lost someone else. 

And would he burn down the world just to make sure the teenager that was a pain in his ass half the time was warm? Then he’d do it in a heartbeat. 

But for now, the adult closed the book, noting what page they were on, and placed it on the floor beside the cot. He carefully pulled the blankets up to Junior’s shoulders, watching him shift slightly but remained sleeping with the same peaceful expression. Andy smiled fondly, hoping that tomorrow would bring a better day for his kid. 

“Goodnight, Junior.”

[manor-tea-time]

(TW! Description of torture, death, insanity, and human body parts)

A letter is sitting on the survivor's desk, with a small wooden box next to it. The letter reads :

"Good morning! Now, I know what you are wondering, "How did you even get in here?", well, lets just say that I have my ways. Anyways, back to business! As you can tell, there has been a little rat giving out my personal information, and as much as I hate others getting into my personal business...... Well, the fear and paranoia in everyone's faces is quite amusing.

Because of that, I've decided to spice things up by proposing a little game of Whodunit! Don't worry, there won't be any consequences if you get it wrong. The rules are simple, all you have to do is figure out my identity, and you win! You can do it alone, in a group, whatever. Now, you might be wondering, "Why the hell are you doing this?", Well, let's call it an investment for my very own entertainment!

It's been quite a long time, but I still remember that day....... A little game of mouse and cat with three others. Despite how easy they went down, it still provided quite a large amount of entertainment! Yes, they were blindfolded, yes, they had a fractured ankle, however, no one forced them in the path of my knife!

Anyways, I've decided to leave a gift, one that brings back some fond memories I had......... Please, take good care of them!

Love, You Know"

Inside the box is 3, well-preserved, human fingers.

The survivors gathered around the box hesitantly. Each one had already read the letter they'd received in their rooms. The air around them being undoubtedly tense as they each tried to think of what to say.

Ivy gagged as she opened the box, nearly dropping it at the sight of the 3 fingers. Slamming it back shut as she slid it away from the group on the table. "Disgusting! Vile! What the hell kind of present is that?!"

"One where the sender is trying to give a gruesome message. I'd say it was well received." LeRoy pointed out, staring at the box in horror. "I think this mystery killer is trying to get us to shoot ourselves in the feet while trying to figure out who it is."

"The bastard is trying to get us to turn on each other. Playing with our emotions as they pick us off one by one!" Wayne said shakily, desperately trying to hold onto some semblance of calm. "They've already broken into our rooms easily! Killing us in the night would be a walk in the park!"

"Unfortunately Wayne, you do have a point in your fearful tangents. This mystery killer was able to sneak into our rooms fairly easily and not disturb anything along the way. It almost makes it seem like they'd gone in there before to plan it out." Ivy muttered as she looked back to the box in disgust. "In any case, we should take care not to play into the trap of going against one another. It's probably best if we form a plan to keep each other safe till we figure out who this killer is. I don't fully trust that there really aren't any consequences to not figuring out what our mystery killer's identity is."

"I agree! Perhaps we could find a room in the manor that's not being used and camp out there? It would be less expected and we could possibly set some sort of trap for if the killer sends another note." LeRoy nodded. "We will probably do better as a group than separately anyways. I'd imagine it would be easier to subdue a killer with three people than just one."

The group continued to work out their plan to avoid the killer for the time being to give themselves more time to piece together who exactly was behind it all. Occasionally feeling watched as they glanced around the darkened areas of the manor. Surely it was just their mind playing tricks on them though, right?

-ξ(❁) ⊕) ξ  , (-⊕ ζ ⊕-) <  , 🗝️>(⊗▼⊗´)•ζ 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

[mimisempai]

Missing you comes in waves and tonight I'm drowning

Summary:

After seeing Loki disappear before his eyes and confined to the TVA because of the failed mission, Mobius decides to still believe in Loki and search for him. He witnesses the discussion between Sylvie and Loki on the train

Notes:

My theories on the method used by Mobius to locate Loki is probably very far-fetched and lacks technical truth, but that's not the most important point here, so I hope you'll forgive me for my short cuts. (I miss them together!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32162878

2008 words - Rating G

"Loki! Wait!"

Loki looked at him for a moment before stepping through the portal.

By the time they got there, it was too late Loki and the portal was gone.

"I knew he would betray us as soon as he could!" said one of the hunters right next to Mobius.

"Shut up!" shouted Mobius at him before returning to the TVA.

As he walked toward Ravonna's office, the same thoughts swirled over and over in his head.

Had Loki betrayed him! What were his plans? But worst of all, was he in danger?

He tried to think rationally.

Loki always said he was one step ahead, but Mobius knew that wasn't true. Loki was improvising. Loki was adapting. So reason told Mobius that this is what he had done.

That's when Mobius decided to do something he'd never done in his life at the TVA, he was going to bet on chaos. On the fact that Loki had chosen to follow the variant not only for his own sake but also because it was his mission.

Because Mobius could not imagine that what they had shared was nothing in the eyes of the god.

"Mobius! In my office!"

Ravonna... he was already imagining her reprimands, "I warned you" "he can't be trusted"...

As soon as he entered her office, she showed him a screen and just said, "Look!"

A scene showing the variant fighting in a hallway with the guards and Loki in the locker room retrieving his daggers then arriving at the place where the guards were eliminated.

Next scene Loki and the variant fighting, Loki trying to convince her to team up, at this point, despite the faith he has in him, Mobius could not determine if this is a way to stop her or get what he wants.

Then Rovenna arrives and the variant uses Loki as a hostage.

Mobius could not prevent a gasp.

Still on the screen, seeing that Rovenna is not persuaded, Loki grabs an object that opens a portal above them and he and the Variant disappear.

Mobius tried not to show his relief, but he saw that Rovenna was not fooled.

"So you still trust him?"

Mobius looked at her defiantly, "As long as I don't have concrete, real proof that he betrayed us, yes I’ll trust him!"

"Always the idealistic dreamer huh?"

Mobius didn't answer, Rovenna continued, "You're grounded here until I tell you otherwise. You can get out."

Once out, Mobius sat in a chair, held his head in his hands, and began to think. He was grounded, but there was nothing to stop him from trying to figure out where Loki was.

He just had to figure out how to locate him.

The difference was that now, thanks to Loki, he knew to look in the apocalypses, what he had to find now was the equivalent of that candy, something out of the ordinary, something anachronistic.

He stood up suddenly, he had found it!

He went to the office, where the screen that displayed all the nexuses was located.

"Casey! Come here!"

The younger man got up and joined him. Mobius spoke more softly, "Will you help me with a secret project?"

Casey, who had great respect for the man, nodded.

"Follow me."

They headed into the archive room. Mobius chose a table a little out of the way.

"You sit here. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, he returned with a stack of files that he separated into two piles.

"In all these apocalypses, we need to find one where it mentions two Lokis variants and unusual magical acts."

"Got it!"

Mobius didn't know if his smoky theory would work out, but he didn't have much choice.

He couldn't help but think back to a similar scene a few days earlier, when Loki had fallen asleep. He had let his guard down in the presence of Mobius, so that meant something, didn't it?

He started to flip through the files.

"M-Mobius! I think I've got it!"

Casey was showing him a file, Lamentis-1 - 2077, a woman reports that two demons tried to attack her. One even allegedly posed as her deceased husband in order to get information.

Mobius could feel it in his bones. It was Loki and the Variant.

He was going to have to gamble on someone again.

"Casey. I need you to keep this a secret for a while longer. If Ravonna gets wind of this, I'm afraid she'll launch an assault and won't hesitate to eliminate Loki."

Casey nodded without taking time to think, "As long as you need Mobius."

Mobius was surprised that he didn't have to persuade Casey more than that.

After all, he seemed to be the good, loyal employee who never disobeyed.

Casey, seeing his reaction, added with a knowing smile, "You know, I like Loki too. He promised me he'd show me what a fish is and you know? The drink he took from me the other day, he bought me another one and apologized. A villain wouldn't take the time to do something like that right?"

Mobius's throat tightened. Casey was the first person other than himself to acknowledge that there was good in Loki.

"Thanks."

Casey nodded and returned to his desk.

Mobius headed straight for the video archive room. The advantage of being an agent of his rank was that he had unrestricted access to this section of the archives.

He searched through the shelves until he found the videos of Lamentis 1 in 2077.

He sat down in front of one of the small projectors provided for this purpose. He was going to start from the described scene that Casey had shown him.

After entering a few parameters, the screen lit up with Loki being blasted by an old woman.

The noise of the meteors that rained down around

Loki and the one who accompanied him, prevented Mobius from hearing what was being said.He pressed the fast-forward button until Loki and the girl, after some trouble to enter the train, found themselves in a box in the dining car.

He turned up the volume to hear their conversation.

He was amazed at how easily they seemed to converse, despite the jabs on both sides, and couldn't help a twinge of annoyance that he refused to recognize as jealousy.

The variant said to Loki, mockingly, "FYI, that wasn't even a plan."

"Oh, really?"

God how Mobius missed that cheeky attitude. Even when unmasked, Loki still had that irritating confidence.

The variant replied, "Plans have multiple steps. Dressing as a guard and getting on a train is just doing a thing."

She couldn't hold back a yawn.

Loki responded, "Oh, are you a bit tired? Feel free to, you know, get some rest."

One thing Mobius had realized and Casey had confirmed to him just before was that Loki cared more about others than he let on if you paid attention.

The variant grunted and replied, "I can't sleep in a place like this."

"You can't sleep on a train?"

The variant retorted, irritated, "No. I can't sleep around untrustworthy people."

Loki replied, still cheeky, "Oh, right. That's me?"

Fearing he might misinterpret what had been said, Mobius pressed rewind and let the scene play out before him.

The image of Loki nodding in agreement about not being able to sleep near people he couldn't trust was superimposed on the image of Loki sound asleep in his company.

He could not suppress the pang of his heart.

Loki trusted him, Loki considered him trustworthy.

While he was thinking, the video had continued and Loki was now talking about his mother.

Mobius had witnessed Loki's relationship with his mother and his devastation at the news of her death.

Loki's voice had become more hushed, with that hint of fragility he had whenever he spoke of her.

"She was, um... A Queen of Asgard. She was good. Purely decent."

Then the variant and Loki respectively provoked each other about the fact that they were adopted and Loki continued, "You know, when I was young, she'd do these little bits of magic for me. Like turn a flower into a frog or cast fireworks over the water. It all seemed impossible. But she told me that I'd be able to do it too because... Because I could do anything. You wanna see?"

Loki sets off tiny fireworks over his hand.

Mobius could not deny his feelings at that moment.

The sight of magic coming from Loki's hands, pure magic, was enchanting.

Loki continued, "She was the kinda person you'd want to believe in you."

Mobius could not help but whisper, "Loki, I believe in you."

For a few moments he didn't catch the conversation until it was audible again. Apparently they were talking about their love interests.

The variant asked Loki, "How about you? You're a prince. Must've been would-be-princesses or perhaps, another prince." She finished with a wink.

Loki, replied with a serious look, "A bit of both. I suspect the same as you. But, nothing ever..."

The variant finished his sentence, "real."

"Let me find you and I'll prove to you how real it is." Mobius didn't realize he was speaking aloud. He pushed fast-forward again.

The Variant had fallen asleep and Loki looked a little giddy.

Loki waved his hand and was back in his TVA agent costume.

He could wear the illusion of any outfit, and he chose this one. Why stay in these clothes?

Mobius really didn't want to be under any illusions, because how could he imagine that someone like Loki, a prince, a god, would want to claim a belonging to something like the TVA... to someone like Mobius?

Loki had started to dance and sing.

Mobius could not help but laugh. Then his laughter died down as Loki's song became more melancholic,

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

og synger "når kommer du hjem?"

Men traner danser og fossene stanser

når hun synger, hun synger "kom hjem"

Then seeming to regain his spirits, Loki began to dance and sing happily again as if trying to prevent nostalgia from invading him.

When the music stopped, he joined the Variant and resumed his seat in front of him. Mobius managed to understand what they were saying to each other.

"What did you just sing to look so disturbed?"

Loki looked a little moved and answered him with the voice Mobius knew well, the one he used when he was serious, when he was sincere.

"It's Asgardian, it says:

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair and sings,

"When will you come home?"

Loki stopped, apparently moved, and the Variant simply said, "So there's a would-be-princess somewhere..."

Loki chuckled looking so sad before answering her, "I like metaphors you know, it's not a princess it's a prince, and I don't know if he's waiting for me or hoping to see me again, it's not even really my home, but..."

"But you'd like to believe that right?"

Loki nodded.

Mobius, didn't dare to believe that it was him that Loki was talking about, even though he couldn't stop the hope from rising up inside him.

The video continued, much more animated, after a wild fight, both jumped off the moving train and found themselves walking through a kind of desert towards the energy source they apparently needed to reactivate the tempad.

Mobius saw Loki suddenly stop, looking shocked. But Mobius was unable to hear what they were saying, the sound of the meteors again covering their voices.

Suddenly, Loki shouted louder, "But they don't know that!"

And they began to run.

Mobius could see that Loki was repeating something as he ran, an expression that Mobius had never seen on his face. Like he was worried. But he couldn't hear him. He zoomed in closer to try to read Loki's lips and finally succeeded.

Mobius.

_________

The whole serie here : The story of Loki and Mobius

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[lyrishadow]

Fictober 3:

Prompt 3: “I’ve waited for this.” Fandom: Mass Effect. Title: Until The Date (in the end of it all) Pairing: Sarah Ryder / Kaidan Alenko Rating: m Warnings/Tags: Fluff (purely sickly sweetly)

Kaidan Alenko stood at the kitchen door waiting for Sarah Ryder to walk down the hall of the Tempest; it had been a long journey but having finally beaten the Archon, and taken Meridian. Having finally recovered from the fight, they would be getting their promised date.

"I've waited for this."

"Oh?" Sarah Ryder paused at the closed door to her room as Kaidan Alenko grinned at her. "I'm sorry it took so long."

"Well, death-defying, galaxy saving stunts come first you know." His reply was accompanied by a quirk of an eyebrow "though, I'd not mind if you did less of the death part."

"Noted." She sighed, his arm circling her waist.

"Now, close your eyes." He pushed the access button and guided her inside.

"SAM can you make sure we aren't interrupted for a few hours please?"

"Certainly. Please use the code to let me know when you are available again. Have a lovely evening Pathfinder."

“Thanks, SAM!” Sarah replied.

“Ok, keep your eyes closed,” Kaidan murmured guiding her over past where she thought there ought to have been books and such on the floor.

“You cleaned up in here?”

“Heh, just a little,” Kaidan replied, “I did have a little help setting this up.”

“Can I open my eyes?”

“Now.” Sarah blinked, Kaidan had moved her to the foot of the bed facing towards the room, her giant Blasto was sitting happily on the sofa which was pushed to one end in front of SAM’s hub. Yet in the middle of the room sat a table with candles and a white table cloth, food covered with another colored cloth and a single red rose.

“Kaidan!” she gasped turning to him with a smile “You did all this?” “You know I’d do anything for you? I did have help like I said, Cora found a source for the rose. Jaal helped me with a lot of the food. Liam helped moved furniture - find the furniture actually. I have a few more surprises.” Kaidan’s hand traced her face as he said that his brown eyes meeting her blue ones “but food first.”

“What are we eating? I can’t smell anything?” Sarah asked clearly confused, as Kaidan pulled her chair out and bowed.

“My lady your chair.” He grinned as he lifted a colorful cloth and placed it on her lap.” your napkin. “ Under the cloth on the table was a cleverly sealed selection of foodstuffs.

“Is that steak and mushroom?” Sarah gasped.

“I had mentioned once to Jaal I missed steak from Canada so he went out of his way to find some for me.” Kaidan and Jaal had become good friends since the Angaran had joined the crew. “I wasn’t expecting it, but he was too excited about it to keep it a secret.”

“I see, that is why he was avoiding me?” Sarah laughed.

“Yeah, got to admire him, he wears his heart on his sleeve but he can’t keep some things secret.” Kaidan laughed.”Look at this - fresh greens from Cora’s lab, fruit, and veg from Eos.”

“You did all of this.” Sarah shook her head “When we met, you didn’t even know if you wanted to risk coming here.”

“Well actually” Kaidan blushed “As soon as I saw you, I knew.”

“Kaidan Alenko, are you blushing?”

“Heh, probably.” he chuckled as he served the food and they ate together talking and laughing over the six months or so that had passed in Andromeda.

“Wow, that was good food!”Sarah grinned.

“Good. There is more though.” Kaidan stood and began to clear the table with a cheeky grin. He retrieved a cake from a box on the counter and bought it to the table.

“Sarah?”

“Oh my god… “ Sarah began to laugh. “May I take a photo?”

“Of course.” Kaidan grinned as the Blasto cake sat proudly in the middle of the table. He had worked hard to make this particular surprise. It was a reminder of how Sarah had come to mean so much to him.

It was a large cake for the two of them, but he knew that the leftovers would go to the rest of the crew. So he served a few pieces of cake and they sat talking about the fair and meeting and falling in love.

“So love at first sight huh?”

“Well, yes.” Kaidan blushed “When I first met your dad, at the restaurant. I don’t know if you remember?”

“Oh, I remember!” Sarah grinned “ I was so damn nervous, I invented a reason to leave.”

“Ah. I wish you hadn’t.” Kaidan grinned “I feel like I missed out on a few minutes with you.”

“Dad thought I would be… bait? A lure? I don’t know he wasn’t good at considering feelings.” Sarah sighed “I wish I had known him better, known what made him the way he was.”

“He was right though - and he told me to look after you and Scott.” Kaidan looked down “in case anything happened.”

“You were his second… it made sense,” Sarah suggested but Kaidan shook his head.

“More than that, he was worried about you.” Kaidan looked at Sarah and sighed “I was not sure why he would say that, but I had an irreversible crush on you. So I agreed.”

“Oh, I see.” Sarah shook her head grinning at Kaidan “You know I have had a crush on you since I was in boot camp and you led the biotic training specialist camp.”

“I remember that.” Kaidan nodded “It was meant to be some kind of reward for being promoted. However, it was just more work.”

“Alliance in a nutshell.” Sarah agreed,

“Do you mind if I change the topic and we move to the sofa?” Kaidan asked.”Let me just pass the cake to the masses.”

Clearing the table of the remains of the cake Kaidan unlocked the door and handed it to Scott who was waiting to receive it on the other side. Scott gave him a thumbs up and wave before taking the cake silently and leaving. Kaidan shook his head and closed and locked the door again.

“Your brother is a nut.”

“There is no truer statement,” Sarah replied with a laugh, she sat down next to Blasto, her legs folded underneath her.

Kaidan ran a hand down his pocket to check for the ring box which was still there. It had been a challenge to find an engagement ring but once people found out what he wanted and why they had pooled their knowledge and he was able to produce a very unique, special to Sarah ring. That had been the easy part he now realized.

“Kaidan, are you okay?” Sarah asked concerned.

“Uh yeah. I’m fine.” He exhaled his breath and inhaled calming his nerves as he turned back towards her. She sat with her blasto in her arms.

“Sarah, I can’t imagine spending time apart from you… I don’t want to ever again and..”

“Then let’s get married,” she said her head on an angle, a spark of mischief in her eye.

“Uh…. you could let me ask you.” Kaidan laughed “I was trying.”

“You were killing yourself with nerves. But Kaidan…” she held out her hand and he walked over to her. “You don’t need. to be like that with me you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He kissed her “So Sarah Hope Ryder will you marry me?”

“ Yes,” she whispered as she kissed him again. He smirked as he pulled out a ring her eyes went wide.

“How did you… oh.” The ring had a stone for every outpost she had helped establish and was made of a metal that Jaal had assured him would last longer than any of them would be alive.

“ With a lot of help. It’s special, just like you are. It’s the Pathfinders engagement ring.” he explained the meaning and kissed her again.

“Kaidan.” she had tears in her eyes “You know I didn’t think I could do this, and I was right - there was no way I could do this alone. I had you, from the beginning I had you. I am so glad I will have you going forward too. " X

[zombiiesque]

Nocturne Alchemy Halloween 2019 - Part Two

Originally published 10/10/2019

Hey y'all! Gonna dive right into these scents, today I'm reviewing the Resurgence scents that I have from the Nocturne Alchemy Halloween LC release. If you'd like to read my reviews of the new releases I chose, you can click here. NAlloween has always, and likely always will, be my favorite Limited Collection they do! I have so many treasures in my Halloween box.

Scarlet Bat - Red Sugar, Crimson Musk, Black Tea Leaves, Neroli-sugar, and NA Black Patchouli Absolute. Okay, my friend Heather picked this one up before I did last year, and she fell head over heels for it. I was already eying it, because I had two previous Vampire Patchouli Bats that I loved, and it had Crimson in it. It had to be a gimme. Like this year's Vampire Bourbon Patchouli Bat, it was a stunner right out of the mail - and it's only gotten better as it ages. Seriously, it's utterly fabulous. Slinky and sexy, and I think even if you ordinarily don't like patchouli, you might find yourself surprised by this one. Put simply, this is sugared red musk and patchouli. Crimson is a softer red musk than Kashmir, but there's almost a spiciness to it. This just warms up on the skin and reaches out, pulls you in. I crave this one when I haven't worn it in a while. For me, my two favorites of the Vampire Patchouli Bats are the Bourbon, and Scarlet. Neither is to be missed. And I don't find it to be like anything I have in my collection, either.

V by Thoth - Incense, Sweetened spices of Cardamom, Cinnamon, Allspice and clove swirled with Vanilla pods, Ghost Musk and Copal Resin. V was a fan favorite last year - and for good reason. It's part of a set of 7 perfumes, each one designed by a House of NA perfumer. I remembered that I have another favorite Halloween perfume that Thoth did: Frank's Monster. I love that one, so I was pretty excited when I saw V was done by Thoth, too. Y'all, I have a lot of incense perfumes. They're something I just can't resist. Okay, confession time: I did love this one, I thought it was a beautiful perfume, but I didn't really get it until I pulled it back out after aging it over the year. I thought I perhaps had similar perfumes...well. I was wrong. I tried it again a few weeks ago, when the weather started to cool down here in Florida, and it absolutely floored me. It was like I was experiencing a whole new perfume - this is positively SPECTACULAR. Very, very different from my other incense perfumes, and it might just be my favorite yet. I don't know what Ghost Musk is, but if it's that beautiful musk I'm smelling here, I could go for a full 10ml bottle of it. It reminds me a bit of Egyptian Musk, but not quite as sweet - very clean, and very appealing - floaty. I think that's it, and if so....Y'ALL, PLEASE MAKE THIS I WANT IT! Hahaha. I think I might like Ghost Musk better than Cemetery Musk, and I love that one too. Anyway - I'm dwelling. This is balanced against a light incense, and the spices are very much in the background, just a nice warm hum of support. But the copallll. I'm sure everyone knows copal rules my world, when we discuss favorite notes. It adds a lovely smoky, slightly sweet depth to this. I'm fully mesmerized. Thoth has outdone himself. I think this is backup worthy. So, a lesson to be had here, and one I realize quite often - if you don't really love something, put it aside for a while, and see what happens when you return to it. And I want to reiterate, I really did like this - but I didn't see, last year, what I was supposed to see with it - aging it and trying it when the weather was a little cooler and dryer really changed my perspective of it, and now it's become an obsession and a Halloween favorite. If you were looking at this one and wondering if you need it - let me ask, do you like musk and incense? If so, you'd better run and get this before it goes away.

The Mummy Returns - Patchouli, Vetiver, Australian Sandalwood, Cardamom, Frankincense, Myrrh, Rock Rose, Labdanum, Siam Benzoin and Tonka Bean. I made a little mistake, and it's the first time I've ever done this. I usually have a solid idea of what I have in my boxes, particularly my Halloween box, but I ordered The Mummy Returns this year thinking I missed it last year, but after my order came in, I was digging into my Halloween box and pulled out....an aged bottle of The Mummy Returns. Yep. So I'll be putting up my new one for swap. At any rate, it just really proved to me about the differences aging makes in Nocturne Alchemy's perfumes, so I kind of enjoyed realizing the contrasts! The Mummy Returns is a resin lover's dream. It's a deep, dark, witchy scent. I love the balance between the sweeter notes, like the myrrh and cardamom, and the woods. I'm writing this based on my aged bottle, and it's just so....well, at the risk of sounding dramatic, it's deep and mystical, and I'll probably be using this for my rituals, I feel such a connection to it. I couldn't tell you how, but it's something I've smelled before - there's some memory I haven't tapped into yet. I find it to be comfortingly familiar, but at the same time, it feels solemn and sacred. If you are nervous of vetiver, as I am sometimes, it's not a note that stands out a lot here, I can barely discern it when I'm huffing at my wrists. So yes, The Mummy Returns is quite an intense experience for me, but I definitely would recommend this in a heartbeat if you, too, love resinous, woody scents with a little sweetness to them. It's a beautiful perfume. It lasts quite a long time on the skin, too - more than eight hours, and I would say it's on the stronger side, so try it sparingly at first, unless you love to slather like I do.

A Change of Heart – Copal Resin, Shiraz Wine accord, Kashmir Absolute, Indian Oudh, Leather accord and burning embers. This bottle actually was gifted to me by my friend Heather. When I first got it, the leather seemed a little loud on my skin - and that made me nervous, because I was thinking it would be more like Hokum, which is a snuggly, sueded leather. But I figured I'd put it away, and let it age - and it would probably balance itself out. Well, that's exactly what happened. This is one of those scents that you can identify the various notes, if you're familiar enough with them - but they compliment each other so well, they're seamless together. It's definitely a chilly day scent, I did try to wear it in the summer and I don't recommend that - it just doesn't do well in the humidity of Florida. But it's great throughout fall and winter - like the leather in Hokum, this is a snuggly, easy to wear leather, and the copal, wine, and red musk of Kashmir just meld together so well. The wine is sweet, and a nice foil - definitely not a sharp note. I do love the way NA does their wine notes. I'm actually kind of wanting to pick up She Could Raise The Dead, which also features a wine and leather combination - reviews are really intriguing for that, too. And I have totally fallen for both Hokum and A Change Of Heart, so I think I might need it! The copal is of course my favorite note ever - it's a little sweet, sticky, and resinous - and also a bit smoky. This really accentuates the smoky oudh when it starts to shine in long drydown. I'm not sure I am doing this one justice - it really is unusual, and striking. Leather was a death note for me previous to NA - I simply could not wear it. If I tried to put on a perfume that had leather as a note, it would take over on my skin - and I couldn't get away from it. But these soft leathers (vegan, by the way!) that Nocturne Alchemy uses are very wearable for me, and I really am enjoying being able to wear it!

Pirate Rum - Bay Rum and a Chypre of Lavender, Chamomile, Pirate Ship Cedarwood and Siberian Fir Needle with a touch of French Vanilla and Oak. I got this one for my fiance, as the notes reminded me a bit of his beloved Ghost Ship. I can only give you a brief impression of this as to how it smells on him, but I thought someone might be interested in hearing that, so I'm including it! So on him, the bay rum is a nice, round spicy scent. If you're thinking Old Spice, push that right out of your head - this is dark and sexy, and nothing like that old standby. Much more complex and well done. The woods in this are the perfect balance against the bay rum, and the chypre is clean, but not at all feminine, so don't let that lavender scare you. I love this on him. Long drydown is a deep, warm spice against weathered, well aged wood. Very appealing! I tried a drop on me, and it's very different with my skinistry. I get a lot more of the chypre and chamomile, the spice of the bay rum is sedated a bit. I think it might come out more with age, if you wanted to wear it as a unisex scent, though. It is there, it's just not as evident as it was on him. The wood notes are gorgeous - I loooove that fir and cedarwood against the slightly herbal chypre on me. I will say, I much prefer this on him right now.

And a bonus - Halloween 2020, which was given out as a sample with orders for this release. It's also available in the All Hallows' Eve section as part of the Permanent Collection, so if you love this, you can even get a big 10ml bottle! Notes: A special All Hallows’ Eve blend of 7 Sandalwoods (Hawaiian, Indian, Australian, New Caledonia, Indian Santalum Album, Karnataka Sandalwood, African Sandalwood (Baphia Nitida), Cardamom essential oil, Clove essential oil, Bourbon Vanille Absolute, Bastet Amber Absolute, smoked sandalwood infused with oak and pine smoke in the NA Studio. There was also a beautiful frosted black bottle, a special edition, along with Halloween 2018 and Halloween 2019, in frosted red and orange bottles, in the Halloween LCs this year. I had a feeling I was going to love this one right away - and I do. SEVEN. SANDALWOODS. 7, y'all! Now this will likely change and get even better with age, but my first impression of this? It is like a sister scent to Bastet Halloween 2016, which is one of my favorite PC scents. The spices in that definitely have a similar feel to the cardamom and clove in Halloween 2020, and of course the presence of Bastet Amber, one of my soul scents, is a star here, too. But those sandalwoods. So smooth. I'm making my way through that 2ml sample alarmingly quickly. Right now I'm not getting much of the smoke on my skin, but the clove starts out a little strongly when it's first applied. Once it warms up and sinks into my skin though, the other notes come out to play, and the clove sinks into the background to add a little spicy kick with the warmth of the cardamom. Beautiful for fall, truly. Brings to mind blue, blue skies, bright leaves, wispy white clouds. A fluffy scarf wrapped around your neck as you explore a farmer's market. That's the picture I have in my head when I huff at my wrist. I'll be reaching for this frequently. I can't really differentiate all the sandalwoods, but the blending of them reminds me just a bit of my beloved Pyramid Santalum. I think if you wanted more smoke, you could layer this with Titanosaurus - or if you wanted to really play up the sandalwoods, you could add even more Santalum or Pyramid Santalum, or Pteranodon. Hey, never enough sandalwood, am I right?

And that wraps up the second half of my NAlloween choices. Did you read the first half? What perfumes did you choose from this release? What are your favorites? I'm thinking about going back for one or two more, there are so many that caught my eye!

[roswelldetails]

RNM 2x05 - I'll Stand By You

So just a little note from me, the person behind the season 2 detailing.  I am trying really really hard to keep emotion out of these posts...which is really really hard for me because I'm an inherently emotional person. I'm a glass case of emotion, ready to shatter at any given moment. (#dramatic)  But I want to be true to the intent of this blog and keep my feelings, biases, and, you know, shipping out of this blog.

It was really really hard to do with this episode. Because I straight up ugly cried for like, 45 of the 60 minutes. 😂

So I guess, the point is, I'm proud of myself and sticking to the details here. My regular blog is where I'm doing the emotional flip out thing! 😂

EPISODE SUMMARY:

ACCEPTING REALITY — The discovery of some complications with Max’s (Nathan Dean) pod forces Liz (Jeanine Mason), Michael (Michael Vlamis) and Isobel (Lily Cowles) to confront the possibility that they may not be able to save him. Elsewhere, Maria (Heather Hemmens) and Alex (Tyler Blackburn) make amends. Kimberly McCullough directed the episode written by Alanna Bennett & Jason Gavin (#205). Original airdate 4/13/2020. 

DETAILS:

Max/Isobel/Michael reunite at age 11 according to what Michael tells Alex in 1x10.  So that would make the opening of this episode set in 2002ish.

Michael tells Max and Isobel, "I remember you. I don't know you."

"After nobody adopted me for a year they just stuck me with the name of that trucker who found us."

"I didn't ask you for anything."

This is like the thesis statement of Michael's whole history with Max in the flashbacks.

"Don't pay more than you collect, kid. Passing credit back and forth is a good way to get stuck with somebody forever."

Rosa's art. 

What I can see says: "...what they all told me, but I didn't listen" and "Stand the shelter".

Rosa on her dreams

"I have not had any freaky dreams in weeks. Okay, Max is probably off haunting Isobel now that they're strong enough for their psychic twincest weirdness."

"How long has that been happening?"

"Um, I don't know. It's an old boom box."

"Rosa, have electrical appliances been malfunctioning around you?"

"I really thought it was just a side effect of the handprint."

"If being in the pod introduced a new protein into your system it could have altered your DNA too. You could be developing abilities."

"Liz, look. The handprint is changing.  It's smaller."

"It's fading."

"Tell me this is a good thing."

"I don't think so."

Michael and Liz theorizing on why the pod shorted out:

"The pod's got a charge. It's like a battery powering the preservation process. This one's gone dead."

"Did the generator blow the electromagnetic threshold?"

"I think a surge came from the pod itself. But that pod has lasted almost a century. It shouldn't glitch out."

"Okay, well, then, this one did."

"All right, stop. It doesn't matter why the pod is broken. It just is. So how long does Max have?"

"My theory is that being tethered to Rosa through the mark is what kept Max from going brain-dead, and in turn the stasis process is what kept the mark from fading. So he could be gone by tonight."

"Okay, well, we have three more pods. So let's just put him into another pod."

"No. He's just gonna do it again. I haven't told you everything. I didn't want to scare you. I didn't want to be the one that took the hope away."

"Talk now, Rosa. Right now."

"I was seeing Max in my nightmares months before I told you about it, and he was begging me to stop you. He said that he was in a lot of pain in there."

"That's Noah's pod. Noah told us it was broken. It wasn't keeping him in stasis. He could feel time passing. None of us thought of that."

"We've been doing everything we can to make Max stronger. He pulled his own plug."

Note...as far as we know Isobel was the only one who knew about Noah's pod being broken.  In 1x12 it was before Liz arrived at the house that he told them about the broken pod, so only Max and Isobel heard that part of the story.

Alex on his training. "NSA intelligence cryptology training".

Monitor screen in the secret lab:

Noah's heart is still too weak to transplant. Kyle says it needs at least eight more weeks

"I wrote a paper for a bioethics class on patients in vegetative states who feel pain. Sometimes it's all they feel."

As a non sciencey person, I was wondering if bioethics class was a real thing. Tonight I saw an interview on the news with a UC Berkeley bioethics professor on COVID. So yes, it's a thing.

Alex on Michael that summer post-Rosa's death:

Starting fights with jocks

Broke into the drugstore

Not going to UNM

Hasn't hung out with Max all summer

Got busted for stealing hubcaps (Kyle's hubcaps, we learn later) 

Became a walking bar fight

Was in jail when Alex left to enlist

Michael on Max in 2008:

"It's more than that. And it's less than that. We were friends when we were kids, but now Max reminds me of a bunch of stuff that I'd rather forget. The only thing that we have in common anymore is Isobel."

Max's yearbook had a pencil stuck in the page with Liz and Max's photo in it. (The one we first saw in 1x03).

"Biology Club. Max hated science. He was in that club for four years just to watch your sister chew on the end of her pencil."

Max's mindscape:

First just desert, clouds, and then lightning strikes (destructive energy?)

Liz's antennae -- they disappear from Isobel's hands

Rosa describes it as broken

Crashdown special is Max's favorite "Little Green Man milkshake".

The Crashdown counter is kind of merged with biology lab equipment. 

The juke box is there

The Crashdown booths

Jeep

Neon Crashdown sign

One of those claw drop game machines (from the Crashdown) but it's filled with baked good displays.

The yearbook

Later, everything else is gone except the one Crashdown booth, the Jeep, and the neon sign.

The distorted music they follow to find Max is the Cactus Groove song in the music list...just, messed around with. See @angsty-nerd's post here:

"I'm the hothead. You are the hero. It's always been that way."

"You stole the hubcaps off Kyle Valenti's graduation present. Both his parents are cops. Do you want to end up in jail tonight?". 

👀 Tonight, specifically. 

Michael seemed excited about the job at Foster's Ranch until he found out that Max set it up for him.  Max found out about it from his dad (only like the 2nd or 3rd mention of his dad in the series so far).

"When I got back in town I asked Max why you and your brilliant mind hadn't changed the world yet. He said you didn't care about the world enough to bother changing it. He believed you could."

Max and Isobel in the mindscape:

"You're okay. I could feel something was wrong with you.  Everything felt…"

"Cold. I know."

"You can't be here. It's finally ending.  I can feel it. But I don't know what happens if you're in my head when I die."

"So it's true? You want this?"

"I could feel my connection to the outside world getting stronger, so I snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. I released a surge. You have to let me go, Iz."

"I can't take it anymore."

"Okay."

"I am so sorry."

"I just want to memorize this."

"Okay. Okay.  I need you to tell Liz something."

"You can tell her yourself.  She and Kyle are prepping for surgery.  They're going to use the faulty heart. She just wants to talk to you before you die."

"No. No."

"You won't be suffering. They're just gonna bring you back and then let you go."

"No you have to stop this.  You cannot bring me back under any circumstances."

"Max? What is really going on?"

"I am dangerous.  Whatever Liz is bringing back is not me. It's just some broken shell."

Maria on her mom's computer 

"Her nurse said that for the two weeks before she went missing, when she wasn't trying to escape, she was talking to someone online."

The 21st birthday flashback

Isobel gets Michael to help move Max after getting drunk on tequila.  He passed out in front of the tattoo parlor. It's the same tattoo parlor Michael goes to at the end of the episode.

Max's weird drunken statement.

"The thing is, there has to be there. Okay? There's always three. Until the very end.  I'll show you...What it means is you should be here…'cause it's all broken without three. So we'll figure it out.  You'll find your way back."

👀 Until the very end. Interesting.

On Max becoming a deputy:

"You know he did the whole police academy thing because of you, right? He thinks you're gonna get into the kind of trouble you can't get out of if you don't know someone."

Back in the mindscape:

"I figured it all out. She, there's an energy to suffering, there's an energy to death, and when I heal people, I absorb that energy. So when I resurrected Rosa, I took in ten years of emptiness. So if you resurrect me, you will be bringing back an infection. Don't want… I don't want to come back as a monster. I don't want to hurt anyone that I care about."

"That's what this is about? We've been hurting, Max. We don't work without you."

"You will! You will. You are stronger now than when I died. All of you are. You, Michael, Liz, you will survive this. The three of you. No, you need to stop them, Iz. Now."

"Okay. I love you."

"You too." Isobel disappears.

Max is using pretty similar wording to his drunken rambles in the 21st birthday flashback

We don't see that Max is chained down until this next exchange with Rosa. Isobel didn't see that detail as far as we know.  Didn't hear the chains clanking when they stood and hugged. Only after Isobel left.

"I'm sorry this is happening."

"Isobel is lying. She is buying time.  You know she'll never let me go. But you can feel the darkness too, right? That's why you don't like being in my head. Because you know it's real."

"I didn't want that to be true, but yes."

"I know my sister and I know your sister and they'll never give up. So you have to be the one to stop this surgery, okay? Or I will destroy everything that we love. You have to stop them to save them. Now go.  Please, Rosa. Go."

Isobel explaining to Liz

"When he saved Rosa he absorbed all of that dark energy. He's gonna have to expel it."

"And he's afraid he's gonna kill someone when he does."

"Yeah. So we just need someone stronger than Max to take that hit...if he thinks he needs to protect us he obviously doesn't know how capable we are. Bring him back, Liz. I'll handle the rest."

"I get it now. It's gotta be the three of us."

"He would never pull his plug to end his own suffering. Unless he thought he was saving us from something. And I'm a little sick of his heroic martyr crap."

In case you missed it, Michael did not know that.  At the beginning of the hospital sequence Isobel is telling Liz what she learned in Max's mindscape and says that she hasn't been able to get ahold of Michael.  Michael figured it out on his own. He finally "got it".

The pacemaker:

Isobel with Max at the end… everything is gone except the Jeep. And Bright Eyes playing (the song he and Liz danced to on their first date back in 2008). And then his eyes close and Bright Eyes fades away.

“First thing I remember is the three of us. We woke up terrified and lost. But together. And then all of the sudden I was alone. I got real good at being alone. I had given up on people entirely. And then you found me again. Hell of hero move. You showed up just in time. When you are a kid who nobody loves, kindness is a currency. Friendship doesn’t means jack. Family just lies, and hurts, and leaves. I’ve only ever known love to be temporary. So yeah, I push people away. Every time someone threatens to care about me I test their love until they have to leave. Connection is conditional. Everybody eventually gives up on the guy who refuses to be rescued. But you were the only one who I couldn’t run off. You never believed me when I tried to be something I wasn’t. So this thing in your chest, it might give your heart a pretty solid kick every once in a while. Consider it payback. It’s my hero move, Max. If you wake up, you consider us even, okay? If you wake up, we can be a family.”

Good visual parallels during Michael's speech. Alex and Kyle drinking together during the "and then you found me again". Maria walking up on "the guy who refuses to be rescued"

Max is in the coma for three weeks.  Wakes up at the secret lab (instead of his house, which is where he was previously.  I'm guessing it was a planned wake up because he's no longer plugged into all of the IVs and whatnot.

"I begged you to understand."

"Max, it's gonna be fine."

"No… I told you to let me go. I can feel it inside me."

"It's...it's symmetry, okay? It's just energy for energy.  We can deal with that. Fight it, Max. This isn't you."

"I don't want to hurt you. I need to get out. I need to get away from you, from everyone."

"I can't let you do that."

Max shoves Isobel and runs. When he shoves her there's a slight ringing like the sound they use when the aliens use their powers.  Isobel follows and stops him with her powers.

"I made a promise that if you came back and you weren't Max, and you were actually going to hurt people that I would kill you. I figure, hey, you got to play God. Make life and death decisions all on your own. Well it's my turn now."

MUSIC:

1. Letters To Cleo "Here and Now"

2. Lady Antebellum "Love Don't Live Here"

3. Cactus Groove "Fallin"

4. James Talley "Big Thunder"

8. Ross Copperman "Stars Are On Your Side"

5. Lindsey Ray "Keep You Safe"

6. Tommee Profitt feat. Sam Tinnesz "With you Til The End"

7. Bright Eyes "First Day Of My Life"

The Cactus Groove song is the first song this season that I haven’t been able to find on Spotify… let me know if any of y’all had any luck with it!

[angel-alvez]

valentine’s day detective ( p. parker )

prompt: you go full on detective to figure out who left a rose for you

word count: 1238

Every year on the fourteenth of February, at least one of your classes would be interrupted by somebody strolling through your classroom and handing out different colored roses to unexpecting teenagers in your class. You dreaded the day solely because while others received pink and purple flowers, you often were given the blue ones. Sure, the flowers were sentimental and an adorable idea, but the colors: not so much.  The pink symbolized love, the purple was secret admiration and blue was friendship. It seemed to single people out too much - but it was Valentine's Day, so it was somewhat bearable.

Your biology class was finally beginning a movie that took out at least a day's worth of class, which meant that the class finally got to relax after taking a rather large abundance of notes and quizzes. The science class was actually the only class you looked forward to. Michelle, Ned, and Peter all joined you in the class, which meant that there was never a dull day.

Halfway through the class, your teacher paused the movie. Numerous annoyed groans echoed throughout the room, not wanting to have another discussion about how the most common macromolecules in biochemistry are biopolymers and large non-polymeric molecules - whatever that meant.

However, a few cheers rang about when the familiar bundle of flowers entered through the door. You mentally prepared yourself for the regular blue flower. Of course, you thanked Michelle for the flower, giving her a hug as soon as she received hers from you.

"You're the best, MJ." You smiled.

"Thank you, for both the flower and compliment. Also, it looks like you have a secret admirer!" MJ exclaimed, nudging your shoulder.

A bright smile tugged at the corners of your mouth when you noticed the purple flower laying on the lab table in front of you. It was surprising to see your name written across the tag but confused as to whom it came from. The little logo from the school's decathlon team was scribbled at the corner, giving you a narrowed down list of the potential senders.

"Looks like I'm turning into a detective today."

〔✿〕

Pouring yourself a glass of freshly made lemonade, you sat down at the kitchen counter. The flower was laid right in front of you, along with a copy of the decathlon team's signatures. It was easy to gain access to it, considering that you were a part of the group. The easy part was now over, and the investigator's part was about to begin. You already were aware that you were taking this whole thing over the top, but wondering about your admirer's identity was taking over all your attention.

Just as you were about to begin comparing the handwriting, a knock on your apartment door scared you half-to-death. Looking at the clock, you realized that your parents weren't due home for another two hours, so it couldn't have possible been them. Trotting over to the door, you stood on the tips of your toes to look through the peephole. Another smile spread on your face as you unlocked and opened up the door to reveal an unexpected guest.

"Peter! What're you doing here? I thought you had that internship thing!"

He carefully set his backpack on the floor, shutting the door behind him. "You really think I'd let my best friend search for her admirer alone?"

You shrugged. Although Peter was overly nice to everyone he happened to cross paths with, you never expected him to show up at your door and help you with your mediocre investigation. Despite your curiosity, any help was better than no help at all.

"Riiiight," You dragged out the only syllable before leading him to your little setup. "Anyways, I haven't even started and I could really get all the help I can get."

Peter nodded his head as he set his chemistry notebook on the tabletop. You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure of how he would use his science book to help you discover your admirer. Deciding not to question it, you took a bite of the strawberry Pop-Tart that you had taken out earlier. Your eyes awkwardly roamed around your home, silence being a highly unusual thing during your classic y/l/n-parker hangouts.

The poor boy had no idea what to do, considering that he was the one who had sent you the flower - quite obviously. He tried giving as many hints throughout the day as he could, but you never caught on.

While Peter had been caught up in his own thoughts, you had taken a moment to admire the doodles on his notebook cover when a certain decathlon team drawing caught your eye. Deciding to compare it to the one on the flower's tag, realization had set in that it was practically exact. Upon your new discovery, you almost choked on your Pop-Tart - and your little coughing fit scared Peter in the slightest bit. When you were able to speak again, you questioned him.

"You sent me the rose?" You stammered.

"Guilty as charged."

Peter wasn't sure what was happening, but his heart was beating a million miles an hour. He had basically just admitted his feelings to you and, so far, he was getting no reaction whatsoever. Apart of him was worried that you didn't feel the same way, but the other half recalled the times you laughed at his stupid science jokes and how he often caught you looking at him with a glimmer in your eyes.

"I-uh... why?" You finally allowed your eyes to meet his.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. "Why? Because, y/n you're the sweetest, funniest, most adorable person I have ever met. How could anyone not like you? What I'm trying to say is that I've liked you since the day we first met."

"That was the day that you helped me with my family's boxes and I repaid you with Pop-Tarts," you laughed.

"y/n, it's totally fine to say that you don't reciprocate my feelings, you know that right?"

"Yeah. But honestly, I really do like you, Parker. Of course your confession is way more sentimental - but I do."

Peter breathed out. "Oh thank God! I was so afraid that you would reject me!"

By now, the two of you were on your feet, smiles on both of your faces. Wrapping your arms around his torso, the brown eyes that you had grown to love were now looking back at you. The two of you were best friends for what felt like forever, making embracing each other fairly normal - but this time just felt different. Your feelings were out on the table, and smiles illuminated the room.

Peter carefully placed a hand on the side of your face, indirectly asking if he could finally kiss you. Nodding your head, he hesitantly leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in the most delicate way possible. The kiss was short and simple, but it made your smiles shine as bright as the stars.

"Now... how about we eat a bunch of Pop-Tarts and watch a marathon of The Office?"

[hybrid-lion]

Lion Daydreams Journal

2-3-21 / 2-5-21

OR

Succulent witch jokes and DnD cheatcodes

Musing on perpetual journey and points of processing certain themes..

Four days prior exiting Hedgewitch Hollow (more on that later) from my abusor(s), at @ the hospital and other musings

 Curbside outside familiar building, looking something like a cross between between the rite aid/CVS in West Emoryville I saw in 2011 this one time and and outside heron pond plaza from tripjoy advantage in New Hampshire.

 Present was a Sedan with big extra Star Wars wrap all over it- specifically Rebel Alliance logo on hood.

 Don't fall for the nurse; they're always immensely humane and kind and working; not to be your fixation (I've gathered this for a while too, though as the derivative term goes, "What a Catch.."

  Anyway Fallout girl/nursing tech (With the magnificent taste in communication skills and tattooage whom was without a doubt better at putting up with my roundabout chittering than I even am (which states a bountiful amount of patience in her own rights and also that I need to work on alloying others more time to have the proverbial talking stick in dialogues), whom I had chatted with the day prior for a while regarding the matter of the vibrational level on this conscious and graceful hostess; (That's the planet we are graced with being able to provide for in turn), with with the rose and sun moon tatts, was present in this dream sequence, as short lived as the scene was. 

 Clearly taking a journey. Capable technical reasoner boi was there as well who cannot even understand where that's at at all definetly was also present in this one.

Clearly journey symbolism, as I was approaching the vehicle in question. 

2-5-21

 "WHY IS THERE BRINE IN THE ORANGE JUICE"

Walking around downtown burning time between returning from securing a temporary order/petition to court and grabbing dinner, I was between looking at the lines in leaves and patterns in the puddles near an underpass when it occured to me regarding my subjectiviteas this far:

   Almost anybody would be able to tell you that there's more than one way to skin a cat as well as probably one of the worst things you can do is box with an apex creature, specifically one that most dungeon Masters wod probably have on the back burner as a sort of endgame accomplishment that would either make or break the parties resolve to complete that leg of their long arduous campaign; or correctly enough the kind of boss fight that one would face in an old RPG that then unlocks a potential ally to the party whom would essentially have the capacity to either RUIN EVERYTHING, knock something off a really high shelf at the appropriate time, or just absolutely love you to death in the dirt merely depending on the way you decided to associate prior and subsequently accounted for).

   This I would assume so boldly is primarily due to the nature of such back burner endgame beings, as well as with all things considered that it is most likely cognitive of it's own journey as well to some extent and that it has retained all the EXP of both that, along with some of the experiences said party would have had by that point, again considering stuff and things.

--

I digress from the point- but we're getting there.

--

So 'boxing'; i.e. showboating or perhaps just putting up and making the most of the situation pertaining to that proverbial beastie the DMs sent around the way-- 

Noting that at that point to some fair extent isn't quite OP persay, but had maintained a good enough vantage for some time that it had or has more than enough capacity for adapting, recanting it's own skills based in experience as it do/what have you, as well as subsequently recognizing that somewhere along the way said party or perhaps their questgivers or guild leads decided to not entirely tell said prior and then the party at hand- what have you- 

  they would then be either in the same raid/map/party/team as it already, but still decided it would mostly likely do well to or behoove them to, and said prior backburner beastie to just go proverbially or metaphorically corner it; and subsequently snare or root or web or whatever their skillset would do; then dragged it off to have a dialogue with it about or pertaining to..

..something sort of akin to poking it awake with a slow burning brand, 

 But only after years of putting it on display without its consent or knowledge.

   This is probably one of the worst things you can do for either yourself or anybody else, regardless of the lens of which it exists in, without having prior and then post poking explaining it.

  Especially considering the nature of some endgame beasties and the capacity for critical analysis.

  If you had a support tank, that didn't know it was a support tank, and you left it out in the rain for like, ever, do you think a little K, Y Jelly and some WD40z to Freedom would constitute a thoroughly squeezed explanation of this scenario to that support tank?

 Depends on the tank and some stuff and things probably.

~~~

  All things considered…

I take it back the brine is fine but the synaptic firings of my brain giving me a first class ticket to Stockholm's I could do with more of for sure, but I'd rather just hang in the Catskillz and make art about 

===

This lens of comprehension on dealing with what to not allow to occur to a raid party would have been monumentally helpful for me subsequently years ago years ago.

   This would been subsequently helpful for me in decision-making, free will, yes, and choice-based processes of course as humans go.

   And if in when the case arose that I had to tell my younger self, "Hey don't put yourself on display or get worked up, but hang in and also read this book in full before walking out to the tarmac or at least in between flights to and from, don't act the fool for the sake of a fool, unless you need to act to fool forreal forreal. Just leave that shit in the sand, dig a foxhole for it if you have to, or bring it sooner maybe?

 

 

  Don't let other people harsh thine proverbial mellow and as it would only fuel their trashcan fire of excusable accounts as to why they allotted a random roaming low level beastie to accumulate that much of an exp grind crunching on bones and jellies and some mimics that don't even, without alluding thoroughly so that they wouldn't act a fool at the loss or sacrifice of someone else's journey as well as their own. 

 At that point, you should have just pulled the support tank aside and been like-

*Mumbles*  

 listen, "you are our favorite dumb dumb juice supersoaker palindrone cat, just saiyan"...

we just want/wanted to sap and then sac your last floating stackable 💕 for the raid that pulled it along on a chain that long for display and experience just to see how it would go like, IDK it'll work out either way but like we could probably use a dumpster fire and we hear you're full of shit, but also the ship is intact and just needs a happy tree friend sometimes so like, knowing the support tank is going to anyway because of its back story… 

~^•=•^

Uhm.

 *TAKES DEEP BREATH*

~=^•Î||I•^=~. •°•°{"UNACCEPTABLE CONDITIONS" 

*TAKES DEEP BREATH*

~^•=•^~

 "we deserve better and also some stuff you left in my backpack over here oh wait what's that accounted for oh okay here a random distracting smoke grenade quick make your escape.*

 🍊  🍃

---

In retrospect-- this would have been monumentally helpful years ago, as would have keeping the deck of playing cards I received years ago with me, my towel, journal and probably better time management skills and also understanding the concepts of the journey of oneself as both the lessons of our priors on the road and with us as we continue.

  I will continue to explain why this could have to explain this to myself in dreaded prose. 

Preferably after I come to terms with the huntresses and chieftainesses and the shield maidens who keep attempting to bait and no scope my ass when they can't even decide if they want to be a volva a shield maiden again or a valkyrie or a witch of the wild blue yonder or all like 20 at the same time; but are getting fond of kiting me around with salt rounds and rubber bullets and genuine uncondition positive regard despite both of our sanity and interests even though it ain't nobody's goddamn business how baby treat me.

 Anyway if you see a random roving ** monster on the map assume it has your best interest at heart or if it's in your teahouse just do yew fam, most likely it's just stopping in for coffee or orange juice or the finest proverbial trashcan fires to warm up aside this side of the milky way.

 Also try not to forget to set a reminder to wake up at an appropriate time, and don't forget to to carry on and through and keep up with your affirmations and random google searches for sigils you have no understanding of and show love to all your complex houseplants and rock's needs balanced with your own.

 Also don't worry about eating carbs late at night before bed. We can burn them off when we're running through each other's minds. 

More in all that later though in detail.

 

*Switches to sleepytime mode, proceeds to cleans whiskers and thanks you for coming to it's shed talk.* 

[sunken-standard]

If you're still taking drabble prompts I'd be happy with any of the following: 7) Everyone keeps telling me you're the bad guy; 54) He thinks he's a mind reader; or 71) Me and the boys will handle it. If possible, could it somehow feature Wiggins calling/implying Molly is Sherlock's "missus?" I have a particular fondness for that trope :) Please and thank you in advance if you have a chance to get to this! I love ALL your amazing work!

Not my finest, but I’ve been off my ficlet game the last two days.  I got 2 out of three in there, plus Wiggins, though.  And thank you

*

“What’s he doing?”  Mollyasked, peering around Wiggins into the lounge from the landing.

“He finks he’s'a min’ reader,”he answered, sounding annoyed.

“I’m not a mind reader, I’mutilizing a complex internal algorithm to successfully predict—”

“Are you high again?” sheasked, ready to be extremely angry contingent upon his answer.

“No,” he saidemphatically.  He didn’t elaborate, which meant he either didn’t wantto get caught in a lie or he was genuinely offended she’d even asked. Hard to tell.

“So why is your bodyguard blockingthe door?”

“Oh for—Let her in.  I told himI wasn’t to be disturbed and no one was allowed in.”

“Even the Missus,” Wigginssaid gravely, moving aside just enough so that she could slip by.

“For the last time, not actuallymarried,” Sherlock said, springing up to his feet from wherehe’d been sat cross-legged on the floor.  He tilted his head side toside and shook out his arms; she wondered how long he’d been sittingthere.

“Or, y'know, together,” shesaid, mostly to herself.  She wasn’t sure, but a hint of a shadowpassed over his features at that.  She shouldn’t have made it weird,but that was her stock-in-trade.  "Just thought I’d pop roundand see how things were going.“

"Mycroft sent you to spy on meagain?”

“No.  I haven’t talked to him thisweek at a—”  Her phone blared the chorus of ‘Queen Bitch,’Mycroft’s ringtone.  Set by Sherlock, again.  She had no ideahow he did it, she never let him alone with her phone.  Ever.

He gave her a smug look.

“He’s probably just monitoring theCCTV again and saw me come in,” she said, letting the call go tovoicemail.

“Nope, budget meetings all day andshift change for his flying monkeys, no one would have seen you comein.”

She narrowed her eyes and cocked herhead, trying to determine the truth of that statement, then gave itup for a bad job and walked past him into the kitchen, which wasstill (thankfully) free of any drug-cooking apparatus.  "If youmust know why I’m here, I brought you a present,“ she said,dropping her bag on the table and going for the kettle.

"Ooh, what is it?” Sherlocksaid, at her side in an instant.

“Didn’t predict it with youralgorithm?”

“Still working out the kinks. Now, present?”

She fished in her trouser pocket andheld up a plastic vial before handing it over.

Sherlock rattled it, then popped thecap to look inside.  "Wow, it’s huge!  This is the biggest oneyet!  Cystine?  Ooh, and it looks like a goldfish.  This one’s goingin the shadow box,“ he said, practically bouncing toward hisbedroom.

Only he would get so excited over akidney stone.  Well, she did too, because it was huge, andrare, and it was her job.  And it did look like a goldfish.  One ofthe fat ones with the gross bulging eyes.

He turned at the bathroom and boundedback, dipping to press a kiss to her cheek.  "Thank you,”he said, grinning, before disappearing again.

She smiled to herself, glad she couldmake him happy.  Positive reinforcement; he’d been clean a month andthree days.  Kind of a belated milestone gift, even thematicallyappropriate.  Milestones, kidney stones…  No idea why peoplethought she was weird.

“Wiggins, tea,” she calledinto the lounge.  

He appeared at her opposite shoulderand she startled; he must have come through the kitchen door,or—equally likely—apparated there from his position on thelanding.

“Thank you, Missus,” he saidsolemnly, accepting his mug.

“Oh, did I miss the vicar?  No? Still not married,” Sherlock bellowed from his bedroom.

“May as well be, way ya takecare'a 'him,” he said, blowing on his mug.

She made a little noise of agreement. He was probably the only one that saw it that way.

She didn’t exactly like Wiggins, thoughshe didn’t hate him like the others did.  After everything had beenover, she’d seen his workups for Sherlock, how he’d calculateddosages and monitored him to make sure he was alright (alrightbeing relative).  She couldn’t help but respect him just a littlebit; she mourned whatever circumstances in life had led him away fromwhat could have been a promising career in medicine or chemistry, hadhe gone to university.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’rethe bad guy,” she thought out loud, immediately regretting it.

“’S'alright.  Get that a lot.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes you did, but he’s really notoffended,” Sherlock said, swooping in to grab his mug.  "Areyou, Wiggins?“

"No,” he said, face blank andhonest, a bit distant like he always was.

“What was the cause of death?”Sherlock asked, switching gears without taking his foot off the gas,just like he always did.

“Hit by a bus.”

“I’m sure they’d be grateful ifthey’d lived long enough to pass it.  Wiggins, go home,”Sherlock said.

“Rude.  I haven’t even finished mytea.”

“Here,” Sherlock said,shoving a £50 note athim.  "Buy tea.  Go.“

Wiggins shrugged and set his mug on thetable, leaving without a word.

"You could be a bit nicer to him,”Molly said.

“I could be a lot of things.” Sherlock sipped his tea and made a face.  "I think the milk’sgone off.  Want to see the shadowbox?“

"You know I’ve seen everything inthere.  Because I gave them to you.”

“Yes, but you haven’t seen themarranged,” he said, already starting for the bedroomagain.

He had her there; she followed him backto see all the things she’d dug out of people artfully displayed onblack velvet.  She wondered if he’d been this cute as a child, allspringy curls and rosy cheeks and enthusiasm.

“Nope, cuter,” he tossed overhis shoulder.

“What?”  She pulled up short.

“Algorithm.”

Don’t picture him naked, don’tpicture him naked—

“Really, Molly?”

Anybody could have guessed that.  Itwas human nature.

“If you say so,” he saidholding up his shadowbox proudly.

I hate you.

“You really don’t.”

Yeah, fine, she didn’t.  She clampeddown hard on the next thought before she had a chance to have it,just in case.

“Tinfoil’s still in the cupboard,if you feel the need to make a hat.”

Arse.

“And we’re back to that again.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

*

Really, he thought, it’s just too easysometimes.

Of course he couldn’t read minds oreven predict what people were thinking (well, he could, a bit). Molly was so transparent birds flew into her.

And, well, if she said ’oh,Sherlock, I woke up today able to read minds,’ he knew exactlywhat his firstthought would be.

[rudderless-in-an-ocean-of-stars]

Ship-fic-thing : more Alex and Winn brOTP! I love the sibling dynamic between them and I'd be excited to see your take on it!

Not exactly BrOTP, but still features a sibling dynamic, Big Sister!Alex, and a very sheepish Winn on the receiving end of her infamous lecturing. Enjoy!

Father’s Day | Winn/Alex brOTP ficlet | to be posted on Ao3

In which Winn has his day ruined by a not-so-unexpected surprise and Alex is there to yell at him for an idiot move.

Winn’s day had been off to a good start.

He’d woken up a solid five minutes before his alarms had been scheduled to go off, finding himself in that rare mood where he didn’t need an IV drip of caffeine attached to him arm to kickstart his morning routine.

He’d still made himself coffee though, if only to savor the taste of the rich blend from Lapeyronie, a fair trade cafe located somewhere within the 3rd arrondissementof Paris that Kara made regular trips to just to indulge Winn’s addiction. 

Kryptonians are awesome, Winn thinks dreamily, sipping slowly at his freshly brewed cup of caffeinated ambrosia.

But everything had gone to shit the moment he’d opened his front door.

There, resting on his prized ‘welcome to the dark side’ doormat, was a medium-sized package wrapped in a brightly colored paper that Winn recognizes, a pang of longing echoing through his chest at the remembrance of the very same paper being used on a majority of his childhood gifts.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Winn kneels to inspect the box, vaguely wondering if his father had finally decided to off his only son and just be done with the whole ordeal of family. He wouldn’t blame him if he had.

On a hunch, he pulls his phone out to check the date. Sunday, and if Winn wasn’t mistaken, the third one of June. Father’s Day.

He sighs, stowing away his phone in order to grab the gift with both hands and retreat back into his apartment, shoulders hunched, shuffling across the floor with an air of resignation weighing down each of his steps.

A part of him- the rational part of him- tells him not to open the box.

He tears into the paper with more force than strictly necessary, all the while acknowledging the fact that he was never great at the whole sense of self-preservation thing anyways. 

Too stupid to live, he thinks, but surrounded by too many superhero friends to die.

He reaches for the lid, wincing, and rips it off with a haste usually reserved for tearing away reluctant band-aids. 

Nothing happens.

Winn waits a few seconds, lid still in hand, before looking down at himself and noting the lack of leaky holes and gooey bits sticking out of his flesh with mild relief tainted by a vague sense of dismay that he quickly dismisses in favor of inspecting the contents of his father’s ‘gift.’

“You did what?!” Alex bellows, hands automatically finding her hips as she enters what Winn had once affectionately dubbed Big Sister Mode™ after repeatedly bearing witness to her various lectures, usually geared towards Kara after the blonde-haired superheroine rushed headlong into danger against all reasonable advice.

Now turned against him, he finds the situation less amusing but no less endearing. Yet. Behind her, Kara watches, unconsciously mimicking her sister’s pose as she tries- and fails- to maintain a severe expression.

Wincing, Winn raises his hands in the universal gesture of defeat. “I opened it! Sue me for being curious!”

“Curious?!” Murder flashes in Alex’s eyes, sending alarm bells off in the back of Winn’s mind. Foot, enter mouth. “Curious is Kara using her x-ray vision to check her Christmas presents!”

Kara flushes a shade of red with a speed that would be worrying if she were human, and shoots them a sheepish smile.

Winn coughs in a feeble attempt to disguise his laughter as Alex turns back to him, frowning. “Opening presents from your homicidal father who has well-documented tendency of sending exploding presents doesn’t qualify as ‘being curious’!” 

Cue violent air quotes. The gesture would look silly coming from anyone else, but from Alex, it radiates her usual brand of badassery. 

She continues with a snarl. “Maybe the term you’re looking for is ‘craving death’!” 

“Alex, I’m fine!” Winn leans back in his chair and waves his arms and legs in the air for added emphasis. “Look! All my appendages are still attached!”

“That’s not the point!” Alex roars, and Kara, doing some kind of interpretive dance with increasingly desperate fervor behind her, finally makes a motion that Winn is able to understand, drawing her hand across her throat and letting her head loll to the side as she bounces up and down on booted feet with a surprising lack of noise.

Too late.

Alex hoists him out of his chair by the front of his shirt, her left eye twitching ominously, and a strangled noise escapes the Kryptonian’s throat as she watches the scene unfold. 

Winn gulps.

A lesser man might have needed a change of underwear at this point, but Winn is not that man. At least, not yet.

There was a lot of ‘yet’ involved when it came to Alex Danvers, who took it as her personal mission to defy every expectation set for her- and doing it all with supernaturally perfect hair and heroic facial expressions to boot.

Someone clears their throat- several someones, actually- and the trio look around to meet the stares of approximately half of the DEO, agents having collectively gathered to watch the show. 

Vasquez hurriedly shoves a bag of chips behind her back as Alex’s no-less-murderous gaze darts around the room.

Alex releases him with a low growl. “You got rid of the whole thing, right?”

Winn nods as hard as he can without dislodging his brain from his spine. “Threw it into the incinerator chute as soon as I got here.” He shrugs, trying hard to appear nonchalant. “It was just a teddy bear.” 

A note of wistful longing echoes in his voice despite all his best efforts to sound stoic, and he knows she catches it. Alex doesn’t miss anything- at least, not when it came to Winn and Kara’s various tells.

Her homicidal expression softens- marginally- and Kara gives him a thumbs-up over her sister’s shoulder, a mixture of sympathy and understanding etched across her features. 

The sight of it makes Winn’s throat tighten, and he struggles to swallow as tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes.

“Come with me.” Alex turns on her heel, movements brisk and efficient, heading towards the hall leading towards the training rooms. 

Predictably, Winn nearly trips over himself following suit.

“Kara, stay,” Alex calls out over her shoulder, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

The blonde pouts, almost appearing to wilt beneath her cape, but obeys, throwing herself into Winn’s vacated chair after shooting a last, oddly indecipherable glance in his direction.

Winn wonders if he had been allowed to evade death at the hands of his father just for the extra bonus of having to face death at the hands of Alex Danvers.

Who knew the grim reaper had such a sense of humor?

In the privacy of one of the unused training rooms, Winn anticipates a violent death as Alex locks the door with a decisive twist of her wrist.

But she doesn’t kill him.

She approaches, expression intense and unreadable, and pulls him into a hug.

Alex holds him, clutching him tight against her chest with the attitude of someone just daring the world to try and take him from her grasp.

He breaks down in her arms, weeping against her shoulder, mourning for the father he had lost so many years ago, whose ghost now cast a relentless shadow across his life even from behind the bars of whatever dark hole Agent Chase and her colleagues had thrown him into.

Almost absently, the gesture borne from years of being Kara’s older sister, Alex runs her fingers through his hair as he buries his face into the junction of her neck and her shoulder, his tears hot against her skin as he clings onto her with equal fervor.

They stand like that for a while, and the only sounds that echo through the room are Winn’s gradually subsiding sobs and Alex’s surprisingly sweet soprano as she half-hums, half-sings the words to a song he vaguely realizes is in Kryptonian.

She must have learned it for Kara, he notes, heart nearly full to bursting in his chest as he slowly relaxes into her solid, unwavering warmth.

They gather at Kara’s apartment later that day for Trivia Night, and Alex quickly claims the spot beside Winn- along with his beer- when she arrives, bearing potstickers and Japanese takeout from a place just down the road from the building- Mr. Pi’s, if he’s not mistaken.

Maggie sits beside Alex, and her gaze is warm and friendly when Winn is finally introduced to her. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she quips, and her smile reveals a pair of deep-set dimples that make her seem instantly more adorable in Winn’s eyes. And Alex’s too, judging by the lovestruck expression that softens her face every time said smile is directed at her.

Winn grins back, clinking their bottles together in an impromptu toast. “I could say the same. Alex never shu-”

Alex shoves a potsticker, pilfered from Kara’s ever-shrinking pile, into his mouth with a dangerous smile. Winn chokes, and Maggie laughs. “What was that, Danvers? Do you really talk about me at work?”

Alex stammers out a hasty response before turning back to Winn with a glare that makes his life flash before his eyes.

Around a mouthful of pork and mixed vegetables, Winn makes a sound that could pass for an apologetic squeak.

Kara laughs, and Winn draws the conclusion Kryptonian laughter must be infectious, because it spreads around the room until everyone is chortling. 

Lucy is sprawled across James’ lap, seized by a fit of uncontrollable giggles, and Maggie is leaning backwards against a bemused Mon-El, who doesn’t get the joke but laughs along nonetheless in the spirit of being polite. Even Lena, who had been sitting quietly beside Kara for most of the night, comes out of her shell to chuckle at Kara’s antics. 

Winn smiles, taking in the sight of the people gathered around the living room table- his friends, real friends, made in spite of his last name and his father’s violent legacy. 

He joins them in their laughter, collapsing against Alex, who steals his beer again- but he doesn’t mind.

He is here.

He is happy.

He is home.

Aaaaaaaaaand scene! What did you think? Was that enough brOTP for ya? Let me know what you think! :D

Hugs and much love to everyone! :)

Fic prompts are, as always, welcome! (Told ya I’d be getting to some today!)

P.S.- the cafe and the restaurant mentioned above are all very real places you should check out! 

[maneaterwithtail]

A lot of people were acquainted with him through his prolific participation in News & Politics, but to me Aaron was always an author, one half of the team behind Hybrid Theory. That fic was a bastion of creativity, drama, and wry humor; a ludicrous and ambitious premise, played gloriously straight. It provided me with much-needed hope and entertainment in years past. His death comes as a punch in the gut, and takes the wind of optimism out of my sails.

I never knew him well, and now I never will. Rest in peace, Aaron. The world is lessened by your absence from it.

-orm Ember

I didn't want to write this. 

Not just for the obvious reasons, that nobody likes to say goodbye to a friend like this. I didn't want to make this about me, because it isn't about me. I wanted to say something about him, to tell his story, to express the tiniest part of the loss I feel in a way others could understand. 

But I came to realise that it wasn't for me to tell his story. I can't. That story was for him to tell, and unfortunately, he cannot. The only story I have to tell is the story of us. So that's what I'll do. 

I met Aaron Peori when we were both new in high school, about twenty-five years ago. Glace Bay High was the tenth of the eleven schools that I attended in my eleven years of schooling, and so by then I was almost as well-practiced in "meet new friends" as I was in "meet the new local pack of bullies". Walking home, I noticed one guy about my age that always walked alone, reading a book. In other words, a fellow nerd, a weirdo, an outcast. Like me. After a couple of days of spotting this lone reading fellow, he happened to be reading a book by Christopher Pike, an author I also had books by. That was, as the saying goes, an opening.

"Hey, isn't that a Christopher Pike book?" I asked this stranger, casually, as if I hadn't already known.

He looked up at me, not even showing any surprise that some weirdo had walked up and asked about the book his nose was in. "Yes," he said, peering at me owlishly from behind his glasses, then after a moment added, "He's a good author."

By the time we reached home that day, we were already good friends. From that point on, in fact, we were virtually inseparable, aided by the fact that he lived almost literally in my backyard.

From the very beginning, we were creative collaborators. At first, we were using GI Joes and a few other toys in elaborate setpiece dioramas that spanned his house's enclosed front porch, and sometimes spilled out to occupy part of the year as well. Factions, sacrifices, betrayals, and no doubt embarassing-in-retrospect dialogue were all a part of those first afternoons and weekends.

I think he first got a copy of the Marvel Super Heroes RPG from his cousin. Before I'd met him, Aaron and his cousin had both been drawing their own comics about a space-based superhero team called Sonis. Now, with a tool that you could use tell stories about superheroes, and rules to arbitrate - our new great dioramas were ones made of words, not toys. I quickly made my own "expanded universe", about a group of mercenary superheroes called Heroes For Hire. 

At that point, what turned out to be a very long-lasting pattern was set. Aaron was the GM, and I was the player. Aaron created the worlds, and I lived the characters in them. He did want me to be the GM sometimes (it's more fun being the player!), but I was always uncomfortably aware how much better at it he was than me, and so I felt intimidated to pit my own lesser stories against the epics he created.

As time went on, another pattern that would be long-lasting emerged: Aaron and I's stories became vastly greater in scope. He rewrote the resolution system of the game to account for much higher power levels than the original design used (Ochre feats!), and eventually we dispensed with the rules altogether, playing completely free-form with no set rules and only the occasional dice roll. I learned to handle multiple characters at once, and bored at the success easily reached by my insanely overpowered characters, learned to find more fun in getting them in trouble instead. Aaron learned to handle the narrative challenges faced by trying to craft stories about protagonists who had literal "I win" powers, and weren't very likeable to boot.

Very little of Heroes For Hire would be something I wouldn't be embarassed to show off today, but my former internet nom de guerre "Blade" comes from the most central and overpowered character of those days.

About a year before I left Cape Breton, Aaron and I discovered two things of lasting consequence: anime, via his having a comic adaptation of the movie "Project A-ko" in his huge box of comics that I would regularly raid, and fanfiction, which I had been introduced to via USENET by another friend of mine, Mark MacIsaac. After I left, Aaron had more free time, and thus he started writing a story that combined two of his favourite things: the then-popular anime Ranma 1/2, and Star Wars. 

Aaron wrote prolifically, longhand on sheaths of paper, in his inscrutable and typo-laden scrawl. My role in those first stories, for all they were credited under both our names, was just to type these up and edit them - but that wasn't a small task, to be fair. I can type 60wpm despite still pecking with two fingers instead of touch-typing, a skill that dates to those early manuscripts. 

That level of collaboration, though, wasn't enough. Soon we took to role-playing games again, and I took on various Ranma characters in lengthy phone conversations where he was once again the DM. Those games formed several of the plots for Ranma: Curse of Darkness, and the entirety of the plot of Kyoto Chronicles (sadly never actually finished), along with other stories both Ranma and non that never made it to the internet. Again, he would write the scripts and I would type them up, now with more creative control and editing. 

The time came when we once again lived in the same city, able to really collaborate with both of us writing scenes. All of this finally culminated in Hybrid Theory, our longer-than-Lord-of-the-Rings magnum opus, and something we were both pretty proud of despite the various flaws and that we totally botched poor Rei's character arc.

After writing something like that, we were sure, it would be easy to write something for professional publication. But unfortunately, it never came to be. Circumstances separated us again, several promising projects got stalled after a few chapters, and then the grinding workload he faced at his job hurt his ability to write consistently.

But Aaron never stopped writing fanfiction. His mind never stopped working. Most of what he wrote was "junk" in his words, and he wouldn't even show it to me, but he was still thinking up stories and worlds and his favourite thing of all: elaborate fight scenes. He once told me he could write in any series, no matter how crappy or derivative, "as long as the main characters can run up walls".

It frustrates me that I cannot prove to anyone here how brilliant Aaron was, because that brilliance was hidden behind the various flaws in his prose style. His prospensity for typos never did much improve, though he could at least spellcheck stuff he wrote on a computer rather than longhand. He never got hung up like me searching for the exact right word, and so he often just used the same words over and over. For those that read his last work, I can only explain that I took out a ton of "snaps" - "snapped her head back", "snapped his wrist forward", "the snake snapped out" and yet there are STILL that many in there. I was going to do a much more thorough editing pass when it was finished. 

But that is all surface-level. Where Aaron excelled was in his vision for a setting and story. He could take the ridiculous and make it somehow sublime - indeed, he often challenged himself with making ridiculous or cliche concepts work. He could keep track of a million dancing pieces and know precisely which should enter the stage, and from where. It's not that I didn't contribute meaningfully to our collaborative efforts, but I often felt like a child with crayons colouring in the lines of a sketch by Da Vinci. Even if my colouring was good, it wasn't the masterpiece.

His players knew, though. Another habit Aaron kept for the rest of his life was GMing (though he enjoyed playing, when the opportunity was afforded to him), even if he couldn't do it as much in recent years. Aaron was a masterful GM, able to coax out strong story arcs and dramatic moments from players of any skill level, able to make NPCs that the players hated or loved or both, able to coax rambunctious player parties into dramatic clashes and events that never felt railroaded. But perhaps even more than that, he was a master of making game rules work for him instead of against him. Aaron loved role playing game rules: one of his primary hobbies and uses of his spare cash was to buy new gamebooks, even if he never planned to use them for a game. He'd devour them, expertly analyse their strengths and flaws, modify and house-rule them to his liking, and even a notoriously tricky game to GM like Exalted flowed smoothly in his hands.

His set of replacement Dragonblooded charms are still the best and most flavourful charmset ever made for them. And he always maintained that the best game system to run Star Wars with was the pulp action game Adventure! - which was the very last game I'd play with him. He was, as always on these matters, completely correct.

In another world, even with the problems we had, I'm sure Aaron could have been a published author. The problem, if problem it was, was that Aaron's prolificness stemmed from his own joy in writing and creating. Ultimately, if he was more interested in writing about a magical self-insert Sakura than he was in something "professional", then that's what he did. He took note of criticism and changed things if he got it, but ultimately the only critic whose opinion he internalised was himself. He wrote because he enjoyed writing. If somebody else enjoyed what he did, great. If nobody did, he'd write anyway.

Aaron and I were so close that my father asked me if we were gay once. We weren't - I'm straight, and he was (unknowingly at the time) asexual. But we loved each other anyway. We had the kind of easy camraderie and understanding where we could nostalge and talk for hours upon hours, week upon week, and never get bored even when we didn't have really anything to talk about. We were never bored of each other's company. From that very first day we met, we understood each other in ways that nobody else ever did, or ever would. I never pictured my life without Aaron in it. I was going to be a writer, I knew at 15 years old, with Aaron. I was going to move back to Canada someday - and live near Aaron. 

There is a hole, and it cannot be filled. It hurts, and it will always hurt. And yet I am greater for having it. It is unthinkable to wish that I didn't have it. My life without Aaron is unthinkable. I'll have to think of it, maybe another day, but not yet.

Aaron's last few years were difficult in some ways. He stuck in a predatory, horrible job that left him perpetually sick and exhausted, the only thing in the 25 years I knew him that actually forced him to stop writing and GMing for any length of time. He was too proud to take help, too tired to look for an alternative. He nearly died of a perforated ulcer a few years ago, and that added "chronic pain" to his ailments, and being him, he would only take painkillers when it became unbearable. It was unsustainable, we knew it, but he was always reaching for that promotion that would finally bring the shorter hours he had been asking for. In the meantime, he'd always say "Don't worry about me, I'm fine." I wish he had been right.

And yet.

In those same years, Aaron discovered himself. He discovered that he wasn't the strange not-wanting-sex freak he had grown up thinking he was, that there were many people like him out there. He got in touch with the emotions he had suppressed within himself due to a traumatic childhood experience, and while he sometimes had difficulty handling his newfound sadness (he was striken by grief like I'd never seen over the death of his grandfather) or anger (political topics were verboten in our conversations over the last few years), I believe that for all the pain and overwork and lack of creative output he was still in some ways never happier than he was these last few years.

He told me once that he wanted to find a partner of either gender, who didn't need or didn't want sex, but could be with him and hold him close when he needed it. I cried, and told him I knew he could find someone once he was out of that job. He deserved it. He deserved that happiness too.

This forum (although not solely) had a lot to do with him discovering himself, and that is why I felt I had to post about him here. You meant more to him than you know, and to some of you, though I don't know your names, I owe a debt I can never repay. Whoever you are, thank you so much. You helped him in a way I couldn't. The joy and hope of his last years came from the help you gave him.

And that's the end of the story of us. Aaron was exhausted, pushing himself beyond what he ever should have - now, at least, he can rest. Aaron was in pain, but now the pain is gone. There was nothing good or right or kind or acceptable about it, but it can't be changed, it can't be helped. 

Goodbye, Aaron. I love you. Thank you for writing stories with me.

-Chris Mcneil addressing sufficient velocity forums