#(well hello!)

[y1xj]

ough

@youareunserious and @swarms-of-smoke

[strryhaze]

a set of pictures that will always make me feel sick to my stomach no matter how many times i see them 😭😭 jfk and bobby are watching eunice leave for buckingham palace here from a balcony and i can just imagine jack getting into one of those sporadic brotherly moods, letting bobby run up with him to the balcony to bid eunice farewell. bobby talking to him non-stop so animatedly while jack takes a deep, subtle breath and barely holds in a retort as he tries to find his mother & eunice in the sea of faces, probably regretting letting bobby tag along lest his little brother get the wrong idea and think that now he can follow him around for the rest of the day. neither of them knowing that they’ll become such an essential and constant figure of each other’s lives in the coming years. and how could they ever predict such a thing. their lives weren’t even in parallel paths. a seemingly different future was on the horizon. jack was preparing for it while bobby looked on from a distance, unnoticed and left out, so low in the family hierarchy. they were both so young and they didn’t know !! life would push and shove them but they would come out right on top but only bc they worked for it side by side (albeit a little grudgingly)

[pocket-full-of-poppies]

Oh, great .... Hadal ...

Uh, hi!

[A wave with one hand that keeps on going and going and going.]

You probably don't recognise me to be fair, but I- I know you. I might feel familiar too. Oh god this is just- GREAT- isn't it-

+×÷=/_

[boyofwar]

gow spoilers;;

once again thinking that atreus is somewhere out there with no mimir and without his father. just traveling all alone and sometimes he feels lonely AF just talking to himself (because we know he loves that shit).

[ascendance-if]

What would ro's reactions and thoughts be if they ever met someone that looks exactly alike one of mc's past selves? And what if it was alike one of their past selves?

Hi ❤ What an interesting question you have there! =)

Elya

Someone like MC

Despite knowing better, would freeze in place and stare. He'd know it isn't you: you look different now and your aura is completely other than theirs, but such resemblance with your past self of any particular life would reach a place deep into his heart, one he'd perhaps forgotten was there. Would go out of his way to talk to the person without mentioning the fact that they look like someone he'd die for knows.

Using the best of his skills to learn everything he could about that person in a short conversation, Elya would be lost in thought for a while, smiling to himself, only to conclude (for the hundredth time) that you are irreplaceable.

Someone like himself

Would take a couple of minutes to consider the situation, after all, there are more than a handful of reasons why one would see "themselves" from the past while awake.

Realizing what the situation is, would probably raise an eyebrow and chuckle. Wouldn't make an effort to talk to the person, and if he had to, could be more or less warm towards them, depending on which version of himself they resemble.

Ian

Someone like MC

Would gasp quietly in genuine surprise and nostalgia, especially if the person resembled you way back then. In his head, it'd be like rewinding a film and watching the two of you become very close, all over again. After standing in place reminiscing about your past lives together and potentially creeping the person out, Ian would walk straight up to them and be as charming as he could.

Make no mistake, he'd be upfront to the person that they remind him of his partner (he'd describe you like this even if you weren't in a relationship in this lifetime), but would very much want a picture with them, just so he can playfully go "Darling, you have no idea who I ran into today" as soon as he saw you next.

Someone like himself

"Hello, beautiful!" - I'm kidding, but he could indeed think that, lol. For most of his past looks, he wouldn't pay the situation much mind. The universe is infinite, after all. He could be slightly bothered by the fact that someone can look so much like he once looked, especially since uniqueness is a very important concept for him, whether on a big or small scale.

That being said, stealing a couple of closer looks at the person, he'd realize that they don't have the three charming moles he used to have on his neck back then, or that their eyes aren't as dark as his were, or, finally, that their nails aren't nearly as beautifully done as his always are, among other details. That'd bring his inner peace back.

Joana

Someone like MC

That'd startle the hell out of Joana for a fraction of a second. She would quickly take a second glance at the person and assess their aura, discarding every other possibility for this situation other than this is, in fact, a look-alike of you in a past life.

Feeling instinctively more protective towards them, Jo would have to calm herself down intimately. Despite her training and best judgment, would avoid talking to the person because she knows she'd be a bit biased and warmer than usual towards them. It could get a little awkward, but nothing she wouldn't be able to handle.

Someone like herself

She is the one who'd take it best, mostly due to the fact that it wouldn't be the first time this happens to her. In normal conditions, The Protectors travel more than any other division, so these eventualities are prone to happen to them more often.

Her first thought would likely be "If you are anything like I was at that point, you still have a lot to learn". After reading their aura to find out a bit more about them, she'd smile caringly, secretly wishing the person good luck.

[queenofbaws]

Ello queenie ♡

Hope u like this prompt, been on my mind for awhile.

(Mike and The Stranger AU)

I always got to me how upset Mike sounded when mike found out how what happened to Hannah and Beth. I had a thought that mike went and got the pages Hannah wrote on by himself. He's very quite the days following. Jack finds out about his excursion and chews him out for going down there alone or something, and mike, in a overly emotional state ends up telling him, why the twins fate was his fault. And I guess showing him the pages.

Always wanted to know how jack would have reacted to those pages.

Hope this is fun, take all the time u need.

(not quite) six sentence weekend

He couldn’t say why he’d done it, not really, not in a way that felt right when he repeated it to himself. The fact of the matter was it had been gnawing at him ever since he and Sam had found it, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it no matter how many times he tried to talk himself out of it or distract himself with something else.

So…in the end, he’d done it.

He’d gone back to Beth’s grave.

It took him way longer than it should’ve…or maybe it didn’t. There was a lot of backtracking involved, a lot of guesswork, because whenever he tried to think back on that night, he found his memories had sort of melted at the edges. Like they’d been caught up in the blaze of the lodge or something. He didn’t like to think about it.

Not that it was all hard—he had a jacket this time, for one, a heavily padded number Fiddler had insisted on if he was going to be ‘fool enough to go out in the middle of the gotdamn Albertan winter,’ not to mention a light, some water, and Wolfie. All considered, it was a cakewalk compared to the journey he and Sam had taken.

Part of him wondered if he should’ve brought a gun; he had the first time, after all, flimsy as it had been, and he wasn’t stupid enough to think that they’d cleared the mountain of Wendigo that night. In the end, though, he hadn’t. That probably meant something, but he didn’t like to think about that, either.

When the smell of dirt and rust gave way to the indescribable scent of damp, he knew he was close. Every now and again, Wolfie would whine or snuffle about, though he seemed mostly content to trot along by his side, his fluffed-out tail occasionally thumping against the back of Mike’s legs. Was this fun for him? Maybe—it seemed reasonable this was a part of the mine Jack hadn’t mapped out yet, or…or at least he hoped he hadn’t. It was easier to imagine that he and Sam had accidentally found some hidden part of the mining operation that Jack had never seen in his years on the mountain than it was to consider that once upon a time he’d stumbled across Beth’s open grave and just…

Just…

Left.

He didn’t want to think about it.

The shaft opened wide like a hungry mouth as he entered the reservoir, tiny drops of runoff gathering on stalactites before dripping down into the inky water below. Each one echoed until it tired itself out. Each one rippled on the water until it simply gave up.

Once, he’d waded through that water, Sam by his side, and once, he’d waded through that water with Josh. One of those times had ended significantly better than the other, but really, when you thought about it, that wasn’t saying a whole hell of a lot. He knew from experience the water was only a few feet deep, and even so there was no seeing to the bottom of it, no telling what was hiding just beneath the surface, watching him and Wolfie as they stood there in the open. Of course, it was entirely possible they were alone down there, that there was nothing and no one to see them if they fell, to hear them if they yelled, to help them if they needed it, to…to…

Mike shut his eyes and drew in a long breath. He could feel a second mouth open none too far from where he stood, smaller than the reservoir but no less hungry. He squared his shoulders and reminded himself of who he was, and when he opened his eyes he could already see the telltale flash of bone amid the dirt.

Cartoons had had him believing there were few things dogs loved more than bones, so almost without realizing it, he’d held out his free hand to keep Wolfie from rushing forward. Turned out, he hadn’t needed to do that. Wolfie, it seemed, was even less excited about this part of the trip than he was, hanging back with his tail hanging sadly between his legs. Probably made sense—he was a hunting dog, right? Specially trained? He probably knew how wrong the whole scene was, how stupid it had been to come back.

It didn’t take him long to find the watch Sam had shown him. There it was, right where she’d left it, and for one dizzying moment, Mike had to wonder why he’d thought it wouldn’t have been. In his hand it was cold, freezing in fact, and even if he stood there for the next fifty years he doubted it would’ve warmed against his skin.

His impulse was to toss it into the grave, to flick his wrist and be done with it. But that wasn’t right. That wasn’t what you did. At least he didn’t think so. Carefully, gingerly, he set it down between Be…between the bo…in the dirt, his throat achingly dry as he struggled with what to do next. This was the part where people bowed their heads and said something, wasn’t it? Or…no, no, he probably needed to…to cover her up again first. But was that right? Could he—should he—bury her again, knowing that if Emily had been right, she was missing her he…

No.

He wasn’t going to think about that. This had been hard enough, he just didn’t have it in him to double back and wander through the mine looking for…whatever it was Em had said she’d seen. She might not have even been right, she’d been pretty freaked out. They all had.

Using the side of his boot, he scraped as much of the frozen earth as he could from the piles it lay in to cover the grave. It was slow work. Hard work. And each time a fine spray of dirt fell, his eyes couldn’t help but follow it, to run the length of the bones that had once been inside of his friend. Had she really been so…small? So fragile? He could only keep his gaze on her for so long before he started to sweat in a queasy sort of way, his head filling with a million thoughts that people weren’t meant to think:

Is that what I look like on the inside? Is that all that’s left? Is that all that’s ever left? Is that all that any of us amount to? How can there be so little here? How can so much be missing? Even when you’re eating chicken wings there’s always some gristle left behind, so where’s—

That last one did it. On stiff, unbending legs he lurched to the side, rushing away what he hoped (prayed?) was a respectable distance before his hands found his thighs and his body bent and he heaved what breakfast he’d been able to force down back up in a stringy mess of bile and saliva and, sure enough, tears.

There was a reason he hadn’t wanted to think about it—any of it. There was a reason he’d wanted Sam to shut up when she’d started talking about it, that night, about what must’ve happened to Beth. ‘Someone dug her up,’ she’d said, and Mike had wanted to grab her by the back of the shirt and fling her into the water just to get her to be quiet. ‘I think Hannah had been down in the mines all that time,’ Emily had said earlier in the night, and it was impossible to ignore the way she’d added, all wide-eyes and hushed voice, ‘Alone.’ It was easy enough to connect the two. More than easy. Obvious.

To think he’d laughed when they’d all whispered about pranking Hannah behind their hands, that it had actually, in a way, made him feel like the coolest guy in the fucking world to be the bait. There he was, Mr. Mike Munroe, Class President and most likely to lose his house and kids in a nasty divorce by age 50, so hot and so slick that every girl in Blackwood County wanted a piece of him—of course it would be hilarious to see Hannah’s face when she showed up in the guest room, everyone and their grandma knew she was in love with him, so why not get a few chuckles out of it while the getting was good?

His palms had gone clammy and cold against his jeans, but his stomach decided to give another retch for good measure.

Maybe the prank would’ve happened without him, maybe it wouldn’t have. But maybes didn’t count for shit when you were the one saddled with the knowledge one of your friends, someone you’d spent time with and liked, had been forced to eat their own sibling piece by piece and scrap by scrap to survive. Their own twin. Gristle and all.

When the worst of his heaving passed, Mike passed the back of his hand across his mouth and spit. He waited until the shaking in his legs stopped, and then he went back to the slow, grim work of covering Beth’s grave, imagining he was burying his guilt with her.

He didn’t want to think about it.

[just-art5]

Hi!

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Let’s get this (art history) party going!