#mclti

[thomas-keen]

PETER BISHOP, 2x20: BROWN BETTY.

[tongowheel]

@mclti​: “You cannot help but love Earth if you grow up in space.” ellie to enoch xox / MARASENNA.

              curious dark eyes peer at her.  enoch is aware he will never fully understand the experience of being human  ;    nonetheless, he strives to know. and it’s moments like this, where he can ‘ almost, but not quite — ’ grasp at a feeling if nothing else   . . .  

— because if all else fails, he can FEEL. and that’s worth a lot.

“i think i get what you’re saying,” he says, ever patient, as he sits, hands folded in his lap. “i would love to see earth one day. i mean, i know what it’s like, because—” he taps the side of his head, causing his eyes to flash briefly. he smiles all throughout. “but it’s not the same as being there. experiencing it for myself.” enoch shrugs. “it’s about.... LONGING, isn’t it?”

[endexe]

❝   You know , they say that crying has all these health benefits .   ❞                                                                                —   @mclti​​

"   Rea- rea- really ?   ”   Angel softly asks Stephanie , their hands lowered for her to see their flushed face   —   their ugly vulnerability , the tears yet falling over despite their attempt in ending them .   [   The world would always tell them to stop crying .   How crying makes them weaker  /   makes them worst .   How crying will only kill them more in the inside and out .   Crying will be your final fall .   ]   Though for her to tell him that , it surprises them to think there is good in being softly ruined .   “   Does it ma - does it make me stronger ?   “  Hands now resting on their lap , they look at her and gently bite their lower bottom lip .   (   From all of this crying , the violent remembering of what they had gone through , they only feel tired . . .   )   “   I - I - I do not feel very strong . . .   But maybe I - maybe I will if I cry more . . .   “   They have always trusted her .   Nothing about Stephanie , with all of her words and actions for them , hurt in any ways , so they can not see the possibility of her lying to them about this .   So they squint their eyes , forcing more tears to leave , touch their skin and remind them that they are still here   —   here with Stephanie .   [   There is no attempt in ending this time .   There is the continuing as telling the world   :   Crying will be my winter to spring   /  rebirth , rebirth , reborn .   ]

[endexe]

but would angel hold steph's bloody covered hands?

Oh! How false holiness already takes the hand of their bright beloved, with all of her glorious stars burning wildly just for them, the moment you ask such a silly question. As if they have seen the future and find what they are delighted to see it coming into the present, right now. Though not only do they take her sanguine and shaky hand, they lift the pain and kiss it, consume the chaos and turn it into a constellation that only means to her and you reading this: I am here for you, I am here for you, I will always be here for you.

[awnterslder]

@mclti​​  said:  “Mum  said  she  found  this  while  cleaning  out  the  attic…”  Flick  stands  a  little  awkwardly  in  his  doorway.  The  leather  bound  book  held  between  her  hands  felt  like  a  weight  and  dark  eyes  looked  up  at  the  man  out  of  time.  “Said  it  was  Grandma  Nellie’s…”  she  holds  the  book  out  towards  him.  “Merry  Christmas,  Buck.” *  𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦  𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬  //

      strange,  how  some  part  of  him  doesn’t  want  to  take  the  book  ———  but  he  does  anyway,  thumb  running  over  the  worn  and  faded  leather.  he’s  seen  it  once  before,  recalling  its  once  more  lively  color  held  in  ellie’s  hands.  slammed  shut  when  he  snuck  up  behind  her,  an  exclamation  that  what  she’d  been  writing  was  nothing  for  his  sniffing  nose  to  be  concerned  with.  now  in  his  hands.  would  he  really  call  this  a  gift?

      “uh,  ...  thanks  —  thank  you,  flick.”  a  brief  smile  curls  at  his  lips  as  he  redirects  his  gaze  upon  her  as  he  raises  the  book  as  a  gesture  to  say  ‘thanks  for  this’.  he  thinks,  that  probably  for  now  (for  her  birthday,  of  course),  he’ll  leave  it  as  ellie  would’ve  wanted  ———  with  his  nose  out  of  her  writings.  he  even  knows  where  he’ll  keep  it:  sat  carefully  atop  the  bookshelf,  right  next  to  his  copy  of  the  hobbit  and  the  lord  of  the  rings.  “sorry.  i  didn’t  get  you  anything.”  he  wasn’t  really  expecting  a  visit,  to  be  honest.  “i’ll  owe  you  a  present.”

[conziergearch]

PROMPT :     you put on a good show of being completely self interested, but i know you’re a good person.   →   @mclti​,  nate

          empty words out of the mouth of a son he almost had.   gaze wandered across the skyline,   drenched in the gold and red of a setting sun :   from the kitchen,   he heard the distant chatter of his wife and granddaughter ――   the clinking of porcelain set upon the table,   the dull sound of a knife hitting the cutting board.   and then he thought of the other daughter,   and of his OWN SON.   every decision made during the war of the worlds led to the conclusion that he was anything but a good person.   and every time he considered what that meant,   walter decided he did not care.   slow was the movement as hands unfolded in the small of his back and pulled a bottle of liquor out of a cupboard.   two glasses,   filled with two fingers each.     “ you held a beautiful speech at my daughter’s funeral. ”     silence,   dreadful & unforgiving.   kathryn.   if there was anything he regretted in life,   it was the way he had disappointed her.     “ i could use someone like you, nathan.   on the other side. ”

[asynjja-archive]

PROMPT :     what the fuck did you do that for ?!   ➝   @mclti​

                    time.   walter once said that it was the one limiting variable that gave value to every experience and every emotion associated with life.   among all his daring theories and unprovable hypotheses,   this was one she agreed with.   a cigarette between her fingertips and lungs filled with cold winter air,   she had mutely substantiated his claim.   life was meaningless without its FLEETING NATURE,   a procedure with flawed parameters.   something not worth striving for despite william’s unruly ambitions.   the door to the interrogation room falls shut,   palm momentarily resting upon the doorknob before she turns to face kathryn.   the anger in her voice is expected but unfruitful;   but a couple of seconds pass until the slender figure of a special agent makes its way towards the table.   across the room and with his arms crossed over the chest,   broyles inspects the younger bishop with consideration.

“ peter is recovering well. ”     the remark carries a certain impudence that she herself is aware of.   there is a chair next to the hospital bed,   waiting for kathryn to sit down and hold her brother’s hand.   she imagines walter asking about her,   ignores astrid’s messages;   barring the one person that comes closest to being her own daughter from seeing he injured brother was hardly a decision made light-heartedly.   finally  , as silhouette settles on the chair across the younger twin’s,   she exhales the tense breath ――   inaudibly.     “ initially, broyles and i thought that the machine was activated by your counterpart.   but we found evidence that she was killed months ago. ”     the silence that follows is dreadful.   something along the lines of unspoken condolences is written across obsidian eyes,   hands folded together on top of her lap and back resting against the hard surface of the chair.   she sees broyles diverting his eyes for a moment.   when two universes collide,   only one remains;   but the calculations scribbled across a blackboard in harvard never considered the TRAUMA of surviving the collision ――   of seeing a reflection of yourself,   dead,   mutilated.

“ which leaves only one other option, ”     she says and broyles pushes himself off the two-way mirror that reflects his strained figure against artificial light.   when the fringe division and the aco joined their resources,   he looked different and much younger.   now,   he paces through the room like he anticipates mines under his feet. 

“ all of us believed it was olivia when her doppelganger took her place in this universe. ”     his voice sounds weary,   but his eyes are anything but.     “ we cannot rule out that peter had a child with the wrong olivia and walternate is using this child to operate the doomsday machine. ”

[awnterslder]

@mclti​  sent:  10)  one  muse  has  been  brainwashed  and  the  other  one  refuses  to  hurt  them,    trying  to  bring  them  back  with  a  gentle  touch.  (you  mean  winter  soldier  being  activated  &  ellie  helping  to  bring  him  back) *  𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬  𝐟𝐨𝐫  𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜  𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬  𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭  𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞  𝐦𝐞  𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟’𝐬  𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬  //

      there  had  been  no  sign  of  the  man  that  recited  those  damned  words  to  him,  left  with  an  urge  to  escape  the  s.h.i.e.l.d.  facility  used  to  keep  him  there  while  steve,  tony,  and  the  rest  of  the  other  avengers  decided  what  they  wanted  to  do  with  him.  following  the  events  of  the  altercation  on  the  bridge,  steve  had  felt  it  necessary  to  fill  ellie  in  on  what  had  happened  between  the  mid-20th  century  til  the  point  where  she  was  found  and  recovered  ———  of  course,  with  the  necessary  breaks  in  between  to  keep  from  overwhelming  her.  the  fact  of  the  matter  was  that  bucky,  at  the  moment,  was  not  the  same  man  they  knew  him  as  back  before  the  war.

      lights  went  out,  followed  by  the  emergency  lights  that  painted  the  walls  red.  steve  should’ve  known  better;  both  him  and  ellie  were  just  about  as  stubborn  as  the  other.  split  into  two  different  directions,  only  for  the  winter  soldier  to  be  stood  before  ellie,  his  stare  cold  and  calculating.  behind  him  were  bodies  of  s.h.i.e.l.d.,  left  sprawled  across  the  floor.  the  flicker  of  fear  in  blue  eyes,  her  small  stature  —  she  was  no  threat  to  him,  and  still,  she  remained  there,  in  his  path.  even  as  he  came  close,  she  didn’t  seem  to  budge,  her  posture  seeming  to  be  unwavering.  instead,  he  felt  her  touch  upon  his  forearm.  gentle.  worried?

      who  was  she  again?  she’ll  get  herself  hurt  standing  there.  

      “move.”