#RIP those happy flowers in her mindscape

[persephie]

I'm kind of hypothesizing that Maggie's Vial weapon is (ironically) gonna be a chainsaw with the teeth being made of/resembling the thorns of a rose.

Ngl that would be insanely badass holy shit.

She can really get some gardening done with a chainsaw B)

[neeterloveschenford]

RNM 3x01

Howdy partners! It's finally happened. Roswell New Mexico has come back from the war! Last night was super exciting. I agree with everyone that said it was like a brand new pilot episode. I have slowly but surely gotten more excited over the last year, ever since she who should not be named got the boot. And it looks like things can only go up from here.

If you're new to my blog, I try to do a review of each episode just giving my opinions and speculating on what's to come. It's a long read because I really dived into almost every aspect this time, so I'll put the rest under the cut.

So without further ado, let's dive right in!!!

Mopey Max is mopey.

I know he was reverting back to his old way of doing things in not telling Michael and Isobel about dying, but I have to believe that he did it to have good memories for himself as well as for his siblings. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being generous, but I’m willing to give him a little grace this season. It’s a new beginning, so maybe we’ll get some growth from him this season.

Not gonna lie, Heath is a hottie. I can see what Liz sees in him. He’s kinda like if Max and Kyle had a baby. I hate her boss though.

Love the pod squad hanging out together. They were very funny and very much like real siblings when they were in the mindscape. And Isobel digging on Michael about Alex was so good! Also, how has no one noticed that Max is shooting up acetone like heroine.?

I’m gonna surprise some folks, but I ain’t mad about Delmanes. I think Greg has chemistry with everyone and they established that Maria and Alex are still in contact (I’ll get to that in a minute.) So I don’t think he’s going to have a problem with them. Frankly, I think they are going to sweep the thing we all hate under the rug and never bring it up again. And I am a-okay with that! Y’all, I want to love Maria so badly! She was my absolute favorite character from the OG and if they have to forget about questionable things that we all know were a product of CAM self inserting, then I am ok with it. Besides, she’s cute and he’s cute and they can just be cute together. I also don’t think she was dragging Michael when they were talking. She made a comment about Michael’s bad boy demeanor. Something that he has been cultivating for over a decade now. And her saying that some things aren’t meant to be…… I mean are we going to argue that point or something? I could have told her that last season.

Also, I want to try some of Bert’s mead.

Kyliz!!! I love their friendship so much! Few people challenge Liz the way Kyle does. He treats her with so much respect, but doesn’t hesitate to call her out when she’s being stubborn. Go Team Liz!!!!!

Michael Guerin stopping to fix his hair before he welcomes Alex Manes back just about broke me y’all.😭😭😭😭😭😭 My sweet son! I love him so much!! And I am so proud of him. I think the old Michael would have walked right up and made some sarcastic comment. But this Michael is respecting Alex’s choices and being a real friend. I am truly sad we didn’t get any one-on-one Malex content, but I know that this is just setting us up for an amazing journey for our boys.

It was also gut-wrenching to see Alex stepping off that bus and being confronted with Jesse’s statue. But it was nice to see him smile when Forrest came to meet him. I am nowhere near a Forlex shipper, but it was good to see Alex happy for once. And Michael’s face when he saw them.😭😭😭😭😭😭My baby boy. I just want to hug him so badly!!

Kyle trying to help everyone was so wonderful to see. He’s the best person on that show. If only folks would listen to him!!! But I am intrigued by this vision.

Damn Tyler Blackburn is ripped! Good lord son. You are killing me!

So here’s where we come back to Maria. It’s kind of a throwaway line, but Alex checks his phone and says it’s his brother and Maria making sure he got in ok. (Followed by that super cringy did you get in ok line from Forrest.) (No wonder they weren’t exclusive after a year!) This shows me that Alex still considers Maria to be his best friend. There’s no flinch. No negative reaction. He just starts returning texts before Forrest starts revealing that he’s in Deep Sky.

Wyatt Long is such a douche.

HAHAHAHA!!!! Forrest is nothing more than a low-level henchman! I love it! And I can’t blame him for falling for Alex. Who could? But let me tell ya bud, keeping secrets like that is no way to ingratiate yourself to one Alex Manes. You could see the wheels turning in Alex’s head. How much does Deep Sky know? Is Michael in danger? What lengths will he have to go to to protect him? I’m finding Deep Sky to be quite fascinating.

Max’s brain manifesting Liz when her song comes on the radio was so sad. He loves her so much, but is just so bad at being a good partner. You know he just wants to see her one last time before he dies. And once again, bravo to everyone’s hero Dr. Kyle. He’s tired of Max keeping this a secret. I just love them together. They hate, yet respect each other. It makes for a very interesting dynamic.

I’m like Liz and Heath. They had fun shenanigans! I enjoy shenanigans. And of course she would leak their patent to keep it from becoming a wrinkle cream. Like a boss!

“It’s a cactus! There’s a flower on that testicle!” Wyatt, you are an idiot. But why would anyone think that tacking Linda on the end of Rosa would be all that they need to do to integrate Rosa back into society. She looks the same! At least give her a new hairdo. And Wyatt was right on the money when he pointed out she writes on her shoes just like she did before. They really shouldn’t have given up on the makeover from last year. She definitely needs a new style.

Michael’s speech about being happy the last year was so good. He was so happy to have his family back. So was Isobel. They are totally right to be angry with Max. He always makes the decisions and never asks them. Their heartbreak hearing that Max’s body was rejecting the heart just made me want to cry.

I also didn’t hate Michael’s interaction with Maria. It’s rough having to be friendly with an ex. But they did care very much for each other. It makes perfect sense that he would want to let her know about Max to keep her from trying to force more visions. And she would of course want to comfort him when he tells her. He’s losing his brother. I would react the same way if that were happening to any of my exes. Because that’s how normal people react. And there was nothing even remotely romantic about that scene. Her teasing him about Alex didn’t bother me because it was just an awkward attempt to get back to their previous banter-filled friendship. Will they ever get there? Who knows. (Well, I’m sure Chris does.)

KYBEL!!!!!!! I had forgotten how much I shipped them in s1. I am all for them getting together. I have had a big suspension that smelling rain was an indication of a cosmic connection. It’s been confirmed so far with Liz and Alex. And Kyle did say that Max smelled like rain last season. He just needs to get some alone time with Isobel when she doesn’t have on the undoubtedly expensive perfume that she wears. I just know he’s the one for her.

Max listening to Liz’s tape was so sad and beautiful.

Kylex! (Has anyone else noticed that all of the really great scenes featured Kyle?) He’s so great at being the voice of reason. And I love that they are friends. If anyone other than Michael can convince Alex to not join Deep Sky, it’s Kyle.

So here’s my theory on Wyatt. Of course he’s going to forget that he’s a racist piece of crap after being injected with Byterical(?). I think Rosa’s going to try to help him be a better person and maybe come to terms with Kate’s death. But I don’t think it’ll end well. They’ve already talked about how the mayor’s racist son is going to factor into things this season. I think he’s going to end up trying to re-corrupt Wyatt. Either he will succeed or Wyatt will end up sacrificing himself to save Rosa. It’s not ideal, but as long as there isn’t any kind of romance there, I can endure. (Also, that was Maria’s necklace not Rosa’s, dumbass Wyatt.)

I don’t trust Max’s one night stand. I know in the sneek peaks she’s shown to be a reporter, but I think she’s more than just that. Maybe it’s because I remember how horrible a character she played on Teen Wolf, but I just don’t trust her. She’s after something besides a story.

Sorry, Forrest. You messed up and let’s be honest. You never could compare to Michael. Alex’s reaction was so bittersweet. He trusted him. But he knows what he has to do now to protect the people he truly loves. And that’s exactly what he’s going to do. So buh-bye Forrest. It’s been real.

I think that the alien mask guys that attack Maria are going to be part of some kind of racist gang.

I’m veering away from thinking it’s Michael that’s going to die. Alex was pissed, not distraught.

Why does Jones look like he’s a bad yogi? The shirt and the rings? Aren’t you supposed to be naed in the pod? Did Michael and Isobel put those clothes on him? Howdy partner indeed!

So that’s my take this time around. It’s been a hell of a wait for this episode. But all in all I think it delivered!. I’m looking forward to the rest of the season. I think we’re going to have a blast this year! Till next time1 my lovelies!!!!

[xachery-apollo]

Who's Who?

This is super self-indulgent fic. I just really like the idea of everybody getting along. Also confused Thomas makes me smile. A big thank you to @corvidlogic for beta-ing this fic.

Words: 1311

"It's okay Joan. You and Tayln get some rest. We can film later," Thomas says.

"Thank you. I'm sorry we both got sick right now. See you soon," they say and then hang up.

"Are they okay?" Roman pops up.

"AH. Hi, Roman. Yes, uhm, Tayln and Joan are sick. We aren't gonna be able to film for a little while," Thomas sighs.

“Do you want to hang out with us today then Thomas?” Roman asks. “Why not, let's go!.” They sink into the mindscape.

Thomas looks up and sees three people in the common room. There is someone in a fuzzy pink sweater and an adorable flower crown draped over a chair reading a book. 'I guess that’s Patton', Thomas thinks. On the floor in front of the couch is a punk? His black jean jacket has patches all over it. His black ripped jeans are tucked into combat boots with, are those chains?! He has a tattoo of something on his neck. He has piercings? 'Is that what I’d look like as a punk?', Thomas wonders. His hair is long and has a white stripe in it. 'Is this Remus?'

Someone is braiding his hair. Their(?) light hair has fallen in front of most of their face. They are wearing a NASA sweatshirt that is much too big for their slight frame and some gray leggings. They look up to see who has sunk in and their eyes widen and they let out a squeak at the sight of Thomas. They pull the hood over their head and stare at the ground. The other two quickly look up. The sweatered side looks shocked but slowly smiles at him. The punk looks at him confused but then smirks.

“Hello Thomas. How are you today?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“What are yo--”

“Shut up Ro this is gonna be the most fun I’ve had in awhile.” Roman looks confused for a second but then starts to snicker.

“What’s funny about this?” the flower-crowned side asks.

“Thomas doesn’t know how we act outside of videos. He doesn’t know who you guys are. And I’m guessing our resident punk wants Thomas to guess.” Roman explains.

The flower-crowned side, 'who might not be Patton?', begins to giggle and covers his mouth.

“So who do you think we are?” the punk asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well,” Thomas begins, ”I think that you are Patton.” He points at the still giggling side. He begins to giggle even more. And shakes his head. The others chuckle a bit.

“And I think that you are Remus.” He points to the punk. Everyone gets a laugh out of that.

“I’m sure my boyfriend would be flattered that you confused me for him,” he says with a smirk.

“What? Boyfriend?” Thomas asks, startled. At the punk’s subtly hurt look he says, “It’s fine! I just was surprised. I didn’t realize that any of you would date, but it’s fine,” Thomas says with a soft smile.

“Thank you,“ he says softly.

“And I’m not sure who you are,” he says to the side in the hoodie.

“You don’t want to meet me,” they say, their voice cracking.

Roman rushes to them and envelops them in a hug. “Honeybee no. You are amazing and I’m sure that Thomas wants to meet you. The real you,” he says with a sweet smile.

“And if he won’t accept you I will fight him.” The sweatered side says.

'How is this not Patton,' Thomas thinks.

“You're one of my sides. You’re part of me. I’d really like to meet you,” Thomas says softly.

They whisper something to Roman and he chuckles. They step towards Thomas. They flip the hood off and look at Thomas. A splattering of scales, that are reminiscent of freckles, covers half their face. Thomas softly gasps. They brush their hair behind their ears.

“My name is Delilah and I represent your Self-Preservation and Deceit. She/her pronouns please.” they--, no she says softly.

“Nice to meet you Delilah,” Thomas says, a smile creeping onto his face. He opens his arms for a hug and she throws herself into his arms.

“I know that I haven’t always listened to you or agreed with your ideas but I do care about you. I do need to put myself first sometimes. You are an important part of me.”

She pushes herself away enough to look into his eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“You still haven’t figured out who we are, have you?” she asks, her lips turned up in a smile.

“I honestly have no idea,” he mumbles.

She detangles herself from Thomas and throws herself onto the flower-crowned side.

“Ow--”

“I need cuddles.”

“Get off of me you--

“You know you love me.”

“I--”

“I guess I do,” he grumbles.

“Can you please tell me who you are I’m dumb and my brain is trash,” Thomas grumbles.

“I’m trash,” someone says from the kitchen.

Thomas’ eyes flick to this new side. He is wearing a bright red t-shirt that has a crown on it and a blue beanie. He has a small mustache that marks him as Remus.

“Re-Remus?” Thomas asks, becoming more and more confused.

“Hey Thomathy, Hi Big Bro. Sorry for borrowing your shirt, I haven’t done laundry yet and my others have paint on them. Vee, Dee.” He nods to each as he speaks. He kisses the punk on the forehead, “Hi Lo.”

“What?!” Thomas asks.

“Aw you runned the game Cephy,” Logan says sweetly.

“Sorry Starlight,” He responds.

“So, let me get this straight-”

“Good luck with that,” several people mutter.

“Logan is a punk and is dating Remus, who actually gets along with Roman and isn’t nearly as chaotic as I thought. Deceit is a super sweet and adorable girl. Virgil is soft? And acts kinda like Patton?”

“That is essentially correct, yes.” Logan says.

“I can be chaotic!” Remus stomps up to him.

Roman moves behind Remus and places his hand on his shoulders. Only now does Thomas realize Roman is taller than him while Remus is shorter than him.

“Em, you are a little puffball most of the time. Virge is more chaotic than you. Only when you try to not be chaotic are you chaotic.” Roman explains.

“I-- You’re right. Fine.” Remus pouts.

Remus’ eyes light up and he turns to his brother and whispers something. Roman smirks and puts his hands around his mouth and shouts, ”Patton!! Can you come down please?”

There are a few thumps from upstairs and a voice yells down, “What the fuck do you need I’m busy! Oh my God what did you break?!”

Thomas’ shocked face causes the group to break down into laughter.

Through laughter Roman manages to yell, “Someone is visiting and wants to talk to you!”

“Is it Remy? Because I’m still mad at him!” Patton says while coming down the stairs. He is wearing his blue polo. He locks eyes with Thomas and blushes bright red. The others start to laugh again, hard.

“What the f--, why--, I mean, uhm, Hi Thomas!” Patton stutters out.

"Joan and Tayln are sick so we can't film today and I was gonna hang out with you guys?"

"Okay," Patton sighs.

"In the mindscape Patton is less happy pappy Patton and more tired dad that is sick of his kids," Roman comments.

"Well I'd like to get to know all of you better," Thomas says with a smile.

"Movie Night!" Remus shouts.

"I'll get snacks," Delilah says, already walking towards the kitchen.

"I'll give you a hand," Patton says, trailing behind her.

Remus grabs Thomas' arm and drags him to the couch. He then begins to argue movie choice with his brother. As Thomas sits there, he loses himself in the chaos of this new world. But he's excited to learn everything about it.

Taglist:

@the-crazed-bunny

@mostlikelytokillyouwithaspoon

@nonexistant-trash

@mikalya12

Ask to be tagged in future fics. 😊

[arteacactus]

Hanahaki Disease Alternate Endings

Warnings: Cursing, more sad, but also happy!! and also kinda maybe gore Pairing: Darkiplier x Antisepticeye Notes: Everything up until this point is the same as the first one!

Anti was just letting himself be moved around and shoved different places, feeling lightheaded, the vines wrapped around his neck squeezing his throat tighter, cutting off air. Which wasn't too terrible, he didn't necessarily need to breathe, but it made him dizzy as hell. He felt himself be shoved onto a hard, metal surface, more vines sprouting from his mouth, flowers blooming until there was a full black rose bouquet coming out of his mouth, the vines around his neck starting to sprout small roses as well. Some of the flower petals fell off the rose as he coughed, red and blue bleeding into said formerly black petals.

In that moment, Sean, Henrik, and Mark turned to Dark, who was gazing at Anti with an empty expression.

"Dark, you're zhe only zhing zhat can save him." Henrik said quietly, a silent plead in his words.

"..."

"Dark, please?"

"....."

"Dark-"

In a sudden blast of cold wind, Dark vanished, and left Henrik, Sean, and Mark alone with Anti.

Henrik sat there for a second, sadly gazing at the spot Dark was mere seconds ago, before turning to Anti and pulling on his mask, gaze turning sharp and focused. "Looks like I have to fix zhis myself." He stated, tone firm, and sent Mark and Sean out to do his work alone.

Dark sat in an open field of grass and flowers, trees dotting the land around him, the sky a pale blue color with no cloud in sight, the sun glaring down on his body, quickly warming his black suit.

He sat with his legs crossed on the ground, hands folded in his lap, eyes shut as he faced the ground, looking as though he were concentrating on something. After a minute of sitting there, he pulled off his black suit, exposing his white undershirt, folding the black jacket in his lap. There was a calm silence for a moment, then it was broken by the sound of something ripping, his white shirt tearing open as two large, thick-feathered, black wings sprouted from his spine, arching above his body and providing shade from the hot sun.

Eyes opening, Dark stared at his hands, his aura steadily growing until it split into two beings; siblings Damien and Celine sitting beside him, the shade of Dark's wings making them glow.

They themselves were transparent, but each had an outline of color- Damien's Blue, Celine's Red- that gave off a bright glow, so they looked like ghosts rather than people.

Celine moved first, placing her hand on Dark's shoulder. She felt hot to the touch, making Dark's skin tingle and burn when they came into contact.

"I know how you feel," Celine spoke, her words echoed and accompanied by a low-pitched ringing that made Dark's skin crawl. "It hurts, it really does, I am sorry."

Damien acted next, his hand sliding down and holding Dark's own. Unlike Celine, his fingers were icy cold, making Dark shiver when he was touched. Damien's hand felt like ice, the coldness radiating off of him.

"I'm sorry you are torn like this," He told Dark gently, his own words echoed, but accompanied by a high-pitched ringing that made Dark's ears hurt. "However, we must think of a solution to this problem, together."

"Together." Celine agreed, the ringing in her voice mixing with Damien's and creating a nice hum, a soothing melody that eased Dark's anxiety almost instantly.

"I don't know what to do," Dark admitted, all maliciousness gone from his tone, his own voice lacking any echoes or ringing. "Anti is my friend; or, I consider him one, anyway.. I don't want him to die, but hell.. I don't know how to make myself reciprocate his feelings. I just.. can't do that."

"And you shouldn't have to," Celine replied, "You cannot make yourself feel things, it's impossible, and trying to do so will only end in more heartbreak and sorrow. It might be best if you just let Henrik remove the problem safely-"

"But that will remove all his feelings for me, correct?" Dark cut off, stress and worry lacing his tone, "He won't even see me as an enemy anymore. He won't feel anything. He won't feel hatred or love for me, I'll just be there. And it feels so awful to think of."

"I know," Celine murmured, sadness in her gaze, looking to Damien for help.

Damien sighed, gently squeezing Dark's hand and sending chills up his spine in doing so, feathers ruffling in reaction to the cold touch.

"Think," The former mayor softly urged, "How do you really feel about Anti? Do you feel like you could manage to love him? And I don't mean a crush; I mean genuine affection, like you hold him near and dear to your heart."

Damien's talking got Dark thinking, and he sat there in silence as he mulled over Damien's words.

Did he feel like he could genuinely love Anti? Sure, he won't deny the Glitch was attractive; humanized form or not. But could plain attractiveness make Dark fall in real love with him? Surely, people have fallen in love with much less to go on. It can't be that hard, right?

Genuine love couldn't be forced, though, he supposed, dire situation or not. He can't just spontaneously decide he loves Anti because he's going to die.

So, he thought about his feelings, starting with how Anti himself made Dark feel, personality-based.

He was a lunatic.

He was murderous, loud, excitable, and a little annoying.

He had an obsession with knives and coffee.

But.. he supposed he didn't much mind that.

Murderous; okay, he was a demon. That's what they do, it's in their blood. It's not necessarily something they could really control. It was just.. there.

Loud, excitable, and annoying? Dark found that a little endearing, quite honestly. His loud, excitable-ness wasn't even because he was attached to Sean; he was just naturally like that, and it made him just a little bit more human than other demons. It was.. cute.

Obsession with knives and coffee? Well, those were just nice little quirks Anti had. He liked his coffee pitch black; no creamer or sugar in sight. He always had to have his knife in his pocket or hand; it was like a comfort thing. Anti couldn't handle being without it. That knife, specifically, was a gift he was given by Sean on Anti's "first birthday", 'ASE' engraved in the black marble handle in Old English lettering.

Anti's personality checked, he decided.

Appearance wise? Well, Anti was attractive in both demon and humanized form.

The way his hair quiffed upwards in what looked like waves of green, his ears long and pointed at the ends, teeth long and sharp, the ends of his canines poking out of his mouth and curling over his bottom lip ever so slightly. His eyes were usually a lovely candy apple green, but when threatened or upset, one eye would become black, faint purples and blues in them, resembling a galaxy, and the other would become green, his iris the color of a deep blue sapphire. His fingernails were black and sharp, the pointed and curved so they looked more like claws than human fingernails, the skin of his fingers themselves colored black.

His wings were dragon-like and massive, claws sprouting from the joints of his wings, the scales a rich black that shone emerald green in the sunlight, washing over his wings like a wave of beautiful gems.

Yes, Anti was definitely attractive.

Rolling the thoughts around his head some more, Dark eventually came to a decision.

"Yes.. I can love him. Truly and honestly. That I know for a fact." He stated, trying to sound confident, but his voice wavered, giving away his anxiety, realizing he could be saving Anti's life with this knowledge.

"Can you?" Damien asked softly, catching the shakiness instantly. "Don't force yourself into thinking you can do something you cannot. That will only end in sadness, as Celine said."

"I can." Dark repeated, his tone stronger this time, both to convince the spirit and himself. "Yes, I can. I am sure of it. I just.." He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Anti could be dead right now and this could all be for nothing."

"Do you doubt the healing capabilities of Henrik?" Celine asked, a teasing tone to her voice for once. "I'm sure Anti is still alive. Probably not in the best of health, but alive, surely."

Dark turned his head, locking eyes with Celine for a long moment, holding a silent conversation with her, before doing the same with Damien, and nodded, chest swelling with anxiety, heart pumping hard against his chest.

"Yes. I can do this."

Sharing a smile, Damien and Celine stood in unison, holding a hand out to Dark and helping him stand, too.

Dark shut his eyes, Red and Blue becoming one once more, bleeding back into Dark's body, filling him with courage.

Pulling his wings back into his body, Dark put his black coat on once more, buttoning it up again, straightening his tie, and teleporting to his Host, who stood with Sean anxiously in the living room.

"Where's Anti?" Dark asked immediately, arms behind his back as he stood in his usual pose, trying to act nonchalant.

"In Henrik's clinic, still. We can't see him. Dark, what was that? Why did you just run off?" Mark demanded instantly, but Sean stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

"He was just told he was responsible for Anti being like this, Mark. Can you blame him for wanting some time alone?" The Irishman told the other, "We aren't allowed in, but you might be." Sean stated, turning his attention to Dark. "Try it. We'll be waiting for you guys."

Dark nodded, Sean putting his hand on Dark's arm and allowing the other access to his mindscape.

Dark passed Chase and Marvin, the two Septiceyes looking equally confused as to why an Iplier was in their home, since they didn't know what was going on with Anti, and almost got up to ask, but seemed to decide against it, turning back to their own activities.

Dark passed Jackieboy Man, who just glanced at him, but otherwise didn't pay him any mind. He passed Robbie and JJ, the poor new guys not knowing it was rude to openly stare, but Dark ignored it because they were new.

Finally reaching the clinic, Dark felt a rush of unease upon discovering how quiet it was, raising his fist and knocking on the door.

There was quiet shuffling from inside, and then the door opened.

"Chase, I told you, I-" Henrik cut himself off upon realizing the man stood in front of him was gray and spooky, and pulled the door open wider. "Dark.. I vasn't expecting you to return."

"I apologize for my sudden disappearance. May I see Anti?"

"Of course." Henrik allowed, gesturing for Dark to come in, but he himself walked out.

"I think you two vill need.. some time alone." He stated upon seeing the confusion on Dark's face, leaving the clinic and shutting the door, leaving Dark alone with only a door separating him and Anti.

Taking a deep breath, Dark pushed open the door and walked inside, eyes widening upon seeing Anti sitting up, staring blindly at the wall.

"Anti?" Dark called softly.

Anti turned to face him, his neck raw and red, gashes from the thorns all across his skin. Dark almost felt a swell of happiness, until he realized what that meant, his suspicions confirmed upon seeing the blank look in Anti's eyes.

"D͘͢ar̨̀k̛.̢͟" His tone was empty, void of any and all emotion. Not even a teasing remark, as if he just didn't feel the need to do it anymore.

He didn't care.

Dark almost teared up, clearing his throat before taking a deep breath and nodding. "I'm glad you are better." He told the other curtly, trying to keep the rush of emotions inside.

Anti just hummed, turning to face the wall once more, and Dark lowered his gaze to the floor, before turning around and rushing out, teleporting to his bedroom in Mark's mindscape before he could be seen by the Septiceyes again.

Taking a deep breath, Dark raised his fist and smashed it into his mirror, shards of glass flying everywhere and slicing into his clothes and skin, black, thick blood oozing out of the cuts. Dark fell to his knees, letting out a loud, shrieking cry of despair, the sound echoing throughout the entire Iplier household, echoing in the back of Mark's own mind.

His aura broke once more, the two spirits sidling out of Dark's body, resting their hands on the broken demon as he sobbed, feebly trying to soothe him, but it was hard to fix a broken heart, especially in a man who tried so hard to keep it together.

Tears rolled down Dark's cheeks as he let his feelings go for the first time in centuries, slamming his fist once more into the piles of broken glass in front of him on the floor.

His crying was cut short, however, by a cough, falling into a fit as he pounded his chest, feeling something tickle his throat, eventually managing to spit it out.

Damien, Celine, and Dark did the only thing they could do at the moment.

They watched the green rose petal float to the ground in sad acceptance.

Short Alternate Ending 2

Taking a deep breath, Dark pushed open the door and walked inside, almost instantly choking up upon seeing the Glitch laying on the metal bed, still swathed in thorned vines, black roses blooming from them.

"Anti?" Dark called softly, shutting the door behind him as he walked towards him.

Henrik did keep him alive, and it did look like he tried to surgically remove the vines, but judging by how Anti was handcuffed to the metal platform, Dark guessed it wasn't quite as easy as it seemed at first.

Anti's eyes slowly opened, mouth still stuffed full of roses, his gaze settling on the shadow demon leaning over him. He seemed distressed, one eye black and the other green and blue, staring up at Dark helplessly. He clearly seemed to have given up, believing this was the end for him, and that Dark couldn't- wouldn't- save him.

Dark raised a hand, resting it on Anti's head, running his fingers through the Glitch's hair.

"I'm sorry I put you through this hurt." He murmured, his voice gentle, much to the Virus' surprise. "I was unaware, and I didn't know this could even happen in the first place. Anti, I'm sorry." He took a deep breath, silver cat-like gaze trained on Anti, watching his reaction. "I want to fix you."

Anti seemed to be in disbelief at first, then grunted softly, his expression turning a little frustrated. Dark could hear the grumpy muttering now, the Glitch was clearly upset about not being able to tease him.

Giving him a smile, Dark chuckled. "I love you."

The response was instantaneous; the vines loosened their grip on Anti, and he sucked in a breath greedily, before letting out a pained screech, his voice layered, as if there were multiple souls screaming with him.

The door slammed open and Henrik burst through, in a panicked frenzy, worried egos crowding around behind him, but didn't dare enter the clinic without the doctor's permission, no matter how concerned they all were.

"Vhat did you do?!" Henrik yelped, immediately assuming the worst, expecting his patient was dying.

"I did what I had to." Dark replied, "The vines have let him go."

With that, Henrik set to work, slamming the door shut and taking a surgical knife, ready to cut the vines out of Anti's body.

Anti, the poor Glitch, was too pained to focus on anything but the hurt. He could feel thorns sucking out of his skin, thin vines weeding themselves out of tight spaces they'd grown into, the thick swaths of plants surrounding his heart slowly removing themselves. He could feel the stabbing pain both internally and externally, Henrik slicing the roses out of his throat so he could finally breathe properly once again.

And then, all at once, the pain ceased. And then everything went black.

Much later, Anti assumed it was later anyway, two emerald green eyes opened to see his bedroom walls.

The Glitch slowly sat up, taking a deep breath after a second of hesitation, relieved to find he didn't feel any pain whatsoever. His system was void of any vines and thorns.

Slowly pulling himself up to stand, Anti hesitantly walked over to his full body mirror, gazing at his reflection and taking it all in.

He had scars around his neck, arms, and presumably chest from the vines, but he guessed he could live with that. At least they weren't bleeding like his neck.

The door to his room suddenly opened, and Anti whipped around to see Dark enter his room, eyes wide upon seeing Anti awake and standing up.

Dark shut the door behind him and took a deep breath.

"Good morni-"

His greeting was cut off as Anti flung himself at the demon, slamming him into the door and enveloping him in a hug, clinging to the man.

"I'̵ll b҉e h͞on͞e͞st,͜ I ́was̵n't̶ ͠éxpe̡ct́i̕ng͘ y͢o͘u ̸to҉ s̀ave̢ m͠e.̶.́" Anti mumbled, face buried in Dark's shoulder, the shadow demon reaching around to return the hug.

"I may be an asshole, Anti, but even I'm not that bad.." Dark muttered, trying to lighten the mood somewhat, lips twitching into a grin.

"S̀til͏l̡. You ̧ju͠st ͡never se͢ęmed̡ to ͠h̀ave.̕. t͝hosę ki͝nda̶ ̷fe͟el̡i̶ng͝s̴ ͘f͠or ̀me.͝"

"I never really.. thought I did, but the situation had me looking into my feelings, and I had a discussion with myself.."

"Ỳo͟u҉ ͞sound li̷ke y͟o͏u̢'́re҉ in̕sane whéń ͜you̢ s̛ay ̸that̷," Anti muttered, not giving Dark a chance to reply before reaching up to tangle his fingers in his hair and pressing their lips together.

They did get a happy ending, after all.

[storyunrelated]

Interrogator

I'm a fairly placid person in an 'apathetic/hollow inside' sort of a way.

But if I ever happened to encounter someone who could somehow intrude into my head and read my thoughts I would politely ask them not to. If they did anyway, I would likely rip their throat out with my teeth.

The very thought of another conscious being poking around inside my head fills me with intense, disgusted rage. It's a personal foible I'll admit, but it's one I have.

And it would be worse if they were clumsy about it, too.

[If you're innocent why would you mind us having a poke around?]

Vandella still couldn’t quite believe that there’d been a time when criminal cases had hinged on something as crude as physical evidence. The mere thought made her face twist in confusion and horror. What a terrible time to have been alive.

Nowadays of course they were far more advanced. Civilized, you might say. Developments in sympathetic neural-lacing had led to - among other things - an easy and efficient way of linking human minds and letting them talk directly Technology being utilised to finally allow people to communicate brain to brain! Swapping thoughts freely and easily!. A wondrous development and no mistake.

Initially though, the egalitarian nature of the technology made it largely useless for anything professional. You couldn’t reach in and rummage around in someone else’s head without them letting you do it, for example. This changed with rapid development though, and quickly a specialised version of the device was made that allowed one of the linked human minds to probe without fear of being probed back and to overpower whatever defences the probed mind might happen to put up.

The implications of this for justice were obvious and immediate.

As might well have been expected there was your usual round of bleating protest at the time. Privacy this, violation of human rights this blah blah blah. Such anti-justice talk died down eventually once it became clear that it wasn’t making a blind bit of difference and that they were in the minority.

While the notion of having someone poke around inside your own head might sit poorly with most people, the same idea of having someone poke around inside the heads of people who looked guilty and finding out that, yes, they were actually guilty was something those same most people felt much more positively about. Their support often bordered on the rabid.

That sometimes the guilty-looking people turned out to be completely innocent was expected, but often ignored. No-one liked thinking about that sort of thing.

From this and for this Interrogators were born, those individuals blessed with a natural affinity for delving into reluctant minds and pulling out that which others would rather keep hidden. Like whether someone had killed someone else or if they knew more than they were letting on. The people whose job it was to plunge into the brain of someone else and determine - without the possibility of doubt! - their guilt or their innocence.

Vandella was an Interrogator. Obviously. Quite a notable one, too. This was why she was waved through the security door with only the most cursory waft of her identification. They knew her, it was cool. She entered the restricted area of her local Justice Bastion (a questionable name but one the PR people said was top-notch) with casual ease and yawned as she did so, heading immediately for the kitchen to make coffee. Following this, she got changed into her uniform. Following this, she settled in to see what the day held.

It held interrogations, unsurprisingly. Even when confronted with technology allowing the guilty to be easily sorted from the innocent there were still people insistent on committing crimes. Something inherent in the human condition, apparently, but Vandella wasn’t going to question poor decisions that kept her in a job. The day bulged with those in need of probing.

The first subject on her list was accused of fly-tipping. Denied it up and down, of course.

That people still lied about their guilt in this day-and-age when ripping the truth out was a known fact of life baffled Vandella. Presumably they imagined that they might be able to hold their secrets close enough to defeat the efforts of the Interrogators, apparently failing to realise that the harder they held on the harder the Interrogators would be forced to go, which would only ever have negative consequences for the person being interrogated.

But that was people. Hope sprung eternal. Maybe they’d be the first person to resist. Maybe.

Probably not though.

Draining the dregs of her coffee and silently despairing at whatever bottom-shelf supplier they’d purchased it from Vandella got up to start the work of the day, heading away from her desk and down beneath the Justice Bastion (such a strong, powerful name!) to where the holding cells and the interrogation rooms were.

There, she was nodded at in greeting by various guards and technicians and other Interrogators already going about their business. By the time she arrived at her interrogation room the subject was already there and already set up. Vandella made a mental note to buy her support team some chocolates - they’d really outdone themselves of late.

The subject was a wispy slip of a man who looked even smaller than he likely was sitting in the large, one-size-fits-all interrogation chair. On seeing Vandella enter he started quivering harder than he had been to start with. Vandella just shook her head. His eyes bulged, swivelling fearfully to keep Vandella in sight as she pottered around the cell setting everything up to her liking.

As a rule, subjects were gagged. Prior to this the constant protestations of innocence, pleas for mercy and sometimes relentless stream of inventive insults had been quite distracting. The gag solved these issues, but could do little about the stares, which were often also quite distracting. Vandella just didn’t make eye-contact. This was as a result of experience.

Settling herself in the seat opposite the subject she fished around for the nerual-plug rather like someone in the backseat of a cat trying to find a seatbelt. She found it, blew off whatever dust had collected (it was cleaned daily, this was just a habit of hers) and then plugged it into the socket set at the base of her skull.

Vandella’s own neural-lattice was implanted, like all Interrogator’s were. The subject just had a special hat on to affect a connection. Rudimentary, but more than enough for a good connection and most importantly financially prudent. Coming up with names like ‘Justice Bastion’ didn’t come cheap so they had to cut whatever corners elsewhere that they could.

No sense in wasting any time.

Closing her eyes Vandella let her cast-iron hold on her own consciousness slip enough to allow herself to slide into the head of the subject. There was a nauseating tipping sensation, of the sort a drunk might feel when off-balance and falling over forwards, and then Vandella was crashing through a door.

Imagine you were pushing open a door with all your weight, expecting from experience that it was a heavy door that required effort. Only today it wasn’t, and all your effort and weight meant that you can floundering through the door far too fast and far too clumsily. It was like that. She closed her eyes, tipped, and was then falling through a door that shouldn’t have opened so easily.

And then she was in a filing room, in the dark, smelling the hot dust. She was in.

All visitors and intruders into another person’s mindscape perceived it as something comprehensible, but usually chaotic. Like a busy city during rush hour, or a vast supermarket full of angry shoppers. Something overwhelming and unhelpful but something they could at least understand. No-one would have been able to do anything with the raw view of the mindscape, even if it was possible to see it. Which it was not. The intruder’s brain would not allow it. It filled in, like with what the eye saw or more accurately what the eye did not see.

Interrogators - trained as they were - had more narrow scope and were only ever after memories. As a result they tended to see something they could work with. Vandella’s brother Vandal, for example, saw himself in a crockery shop, with all the memories and thoughts he needed painted onto commemorative plates. Their teacher at the academy Lochaim had apparently seen a beautifully tended garden and lovingly hand-reared, brilliantly coloured flowers on whose petals and stems was the information he needed.

Vandella, being a natural and a gifted prodigy, saw a filing room. A nice, easy filing room. Neatly organised cabinets sitting in neatly organised rows, waiting to be rifled through. All but one of the lights was broken so it was darker than it should have been, and all the drawers were rusty and broke when pulled out and some of the locks needed jimmying before they’d yield their contents. But other than that nice and easy.

The one consistent theme running through all of these ways of visualising the memories of their subjects was that everything was perfectly happy and settled until the Interrogator showed up, at which point disorganisation was inevitable. They tried to be delicate, they really did, but it just wasn’t something they could really do much about. Things were set up so that making a mess was the only possible option. Making a mess or leaving it alone, which just wasn’t in the service of justice.

Vandal would knock over cabinets of plates with wayward elbows or disrupt carefully balanced displays by nudging the wrong thing. Lochaim would have to trample those beautiful flowers to get to the ones he wanted. Vandella would have to pull files and bring them to the one functioning light to see if they were the ones she wanted and if they weren’t then there was no easy way of making sure they got back in the right place.

It was the same for everyone. It was just how it worked.

But they were professionals. They’d been trained and drilled to cause as little disruption as humanly possible. If anyone was going to be stepping into your head in search of justice you’d want it to be one of these guys, not just any amateur. An amateur might make an even bigger mess, and then where would you be?

Not as if the damage was long-lasting anyway. The brain put everything back the way it was meant to be in a week or so. Most of the time. Sometimes helped with a little therapy. Innocent subjects were even given a discount for the therapy so everything was completely fine.

Steadying herself, Vandella took a moment to adjust. No matter how many times she did it the jolt always put her off-balance, and every room was always a tiny bit different - enough to disorientate for the first couple of seconds. Squinting in the gloom and sweeping a practise eye around her surroundings she moved further in, moving whichever way her gut told her felt most right.

“Let’s see…” she said, one hand coming up in front of her, moving through the air that was not there, groping after something she could only barely sense. Like trying to find an air current.

As concrete and real as the filing room might have looked, it wasn’t. Obviously. Merely a projection of the information being received, adjusted to a form that Vandella could comprehend. The pull she was feeling, the one that was gently tugging her in one direction over any other direction, was one without any real-world analogue. The idea of following a breeze was just the closest approximation her brain could come up with. And so it was.

Her hand settled on one filing cabinet out of all the other ones present. She smiled. That was quick. Normally it could take minutes. Sometimes even longer. Today was clearly a good day. But narrowing it down to just the one cabinet was only the first step, there was still rifling to be done. Putting aside the possibility she was just plain wrong to start with, which could happen but which she decided probably wouldn't. Not this time.

Squatting, she took hold of the handle on the bottom-most drawer and gave the thing a wrench. There was a painful screech of protesting metal which put her teeth on edge and the drawer came halfway out. Another pull saw it coming the rest of the way. In the gloom - the light was behind the filing cabinet she was looking in, and so blocked - she could vaguely see files but no details. This was expected. Letting her hand wander as it may she picked one at random and pulled it out, standing up and moving closer to the light to have a better look.

The page had writing, but the words were meaningless. Looking at them gave no hope of reading them, but did still fill Vandella’s head with their contents. It was odd, rather like she was looking at something she’d seen already and was just remembering it. She saw a morning some days prior and pawed through the pilfered memory for any trace of a date, flicking through stolen images taken into her own head and quickly finding a moment when the subject had glanced at their phone. This memory was from a day or two prior to when the crime had actually occurred.

This was a start. Now to find something after the date of the crime.

Bracketing was a simple technique, though like all simple things to pull it off properly required practise and a certain level of innate talent. The idea was to find a memory before and a memory after the event you were interested in. That way you could limit whatever damage you had to cause in order to pinpoint the exact information. Basic stuff.

Returning to the drawer Vandella did her best to return the file to where she thought it had come from, closed the drawer and then moved one up. Again there was a brief spurt of effort and horrible noise as the cabinet had to be forced open and then Vandella was pulling out another file. A brief examination of another ransacked memory showed that this one was from perhaps three days before the crime.

She’d gone in the wrong direction. Everything in this filing room was backwards compared to the last couple she’d done. That happened sometimes, though agreeably not to her for a little while now. She’d got complacent.

“Oops,” she said, shoving the file back more-or-less in the place she’d got it from

Moving to the next cabinet and starting from the top she quickly found something of more use to her - a memory from the day just after. This was more like it. She couldn’t help but grin. Today was going swimmingly.

Her hand clenched involuntarily, a spasm that saw the paper she was holding crumpled to a ball. Regrettable and unfortunate, but one of those things. A foible of the neural interface. Nobody ever said it was perfect. Uncrumpling it she smoothed it out as best she could and put it back, hopefully somewhere near where it was meant to be.

She started to work her way backwards, dipping in here and there, getting closer and closer to what had been estimated to be the rough time of day the crime had been committed. With every memory she drank in she saw more and more that this subject had been nowhere near the scene of the crime.

It was looking increasingly likely that this subject was innocent. A pain, that.

Guilty persons were fairly easy. All you had to do was find that one memory of theirs that showed them actually committing the crime and you were done. Sometimes this was fiddly when that memory proved hard to track down, but once you got it you were basically done.

Innocent people, by contrast, you had to make sure about. You had to narrow down your search to find the general timeframe of the crime and then just keep narrowing it down and down and down until you’d completely proven that they had nothing to do with it. Memory by memory.

This took time and this made a mess. But the alternative was letting guilty people go and letting innocent people suffer for it. Well, suffer in an intangible, ‘injustice is intolerable’ sort of a way. The suffering that came from having someone paw through their thoughts was just an unavoidable part of the process and therefore didn’t count.

Laboriously did Vandella go through every single memory that the subject had on the day of the crime, absorbing them in their entirety and knowing - in the truest, rawest sense of ‘knowing’ that it was possible for a person to get - that the subject was totally free of guilt. Cramming the last memory back into whichever drawer was closest (she was grumpy) Vandella grimaced.

“Waste of time…” she said, sinking into a sulk and slouching slowly to the door, through which she exited the filing room and the subject’s head altogether.

There was a jolt and a blinding flash and Vandella was back in the interrogation cell. One hand dabbing away some of the blood dribbling from her nose the other went up to disconnect the neural link.

Across from her the subject - quivering, gibbering quietly and with arms spasmodically straining against the bonds keeping them in their seat - had soiled themselves. They did that sometimes, unfortunately.

Her support team were already in motion before Vandella had stood up. A hustling bustle of professional came bustling professionally in, unbuckling the subject and dragging them limply from the room as another member ran Vandella through a standard and light barrage of post-interrogation tests. She passed, obviously.

Not the most inspiring way to start the day, all told. She would have preferred someone comfortable guilty. Now she just felt like she’d pissed her valuable time up a wall. It’d ruin her mood all the way through lunch, she just knew it.

“Can I get someone in here to clean this up?” Vandella asked, gesturing vaguely at the puddle the subject had left on the seat and the floor below it. The team member who’d administered the test nodded silently and left at speed to go fetch someone to do that. Vandella sighed.

The smell would hang around for days, she just knew it.

END

[randomstarmuffin]

Beauty and the Beast au

Loooooool what is chill This is basically just stream of consciousness ngl I just saw the new movie and thought of an angsty shallura excuse Also there’s things with the whole b & the b thing that I don’t like which I was reminded of by the movie but I’m not invested enough in actual beauty and the beast whereas my brain is currently in voltron everything mode so this is closer to canon than to (English) France Anyway…yeah Let’s see if I can correctly figure out how read more-ing works Also hopefully I’ll actually get myself to write this but in the meantime my basic ideas are here so like…spoilers on that if anyone’s wanting to read and be surprised eventually lol

(wowie this does not start coherently great yeesh I need to not reread or I’ll never post…) The castle is ‘haunted’ hah..ha Like I guess the galra got to earth before the five could get to blue and escape And haggar was like naughty champion we should get more drastic So like the four are turned into AIs? Kinda? And shiro’s galra now like the monster he doesn’t want to be but sees himself as Beauty and the Champion haaaah Haggar like…gave him a juniberry. This shit eheheheheh she’s altean and it’s like one of the last real flowers from altea in existence and like when it dies so does shiros humanity This shall come into play when the shallura interaction begins Like how the fuck do you have a juniberry you motherfucker did you destroy my planet WERE YOU THERE???? The four younger paladins just kinda…quintessence around like they’re just colors on the glowy parts of tech so like they’re not stuck as furniture per se… but they are They’ve all got favorite appliances of course (tbd) Or would it be beauty and the galra Idk I don’t like that as much And like originally gaston!lotor But I don’t know lotor as a character and like…idk it could work but I’m not feeling it Instead of townsfolk it’s resistance peeps Allura and Coran are awoken by castle defenses or something bc the paladins never got to arus And then there’s like prison escapees (and maybe malmora guys? Ehhhh idk?) but they don’t want to listen, voltron isn’t real, these two “alteans” are just crazy aliens HOH THE ATTACK ON THE CASTLE IS SHIRO AND THE PALADINS LIKE EARTH WONT BE DESTROYED IF YOU FOLLOW OUR ORDERS OR SOME SHIT AND LIKE SHIRO FEELS REALLY GUILTY GETTING THESE INNOCENT CHILDREN INVOLVED AND HIS SHITTY SPACESHIP ISN’T A GOOD HOME FOR AIS BUT THE CASTLE IS IN COMPARISON So yeah Yeeeaaaaah! Yeah. They nab Coran But then Allura’s all no not Coran I’ll do anything He’s like princess no you’re far more important leave and save the universe only you can do it! You need to collect the paladins and you have mystical royal powers and I’m just here to keep you safe anyway So of course she ejects Coran into space in a pod Gdi Allura Subsequently he’s picked up by freedom fighters but w/o Allura there’s no one to corroborate any of his claims, hence he’s just crazy Maurice Allura, hates, all galra with a burning passion She hates Shiro who’s been turned into one (not that she could know and not that he’ll tell her - he feels deserving of her hate anyway and might as well not drag humans down with him) and who ripped apart the only family she had left She doesn’t realize the AIs are humans turned into and stuck as quintessence at first Maybe haggar’s plan is to like…use them since they’re compatible with the lions but it takes a certain amount of time for them to like get absorbed into the astral plane and lose their physical forms forever or to be manipulate-able to her She’ll have them transferred to the lions eventually and just hijack the controls? Idk Like the galra have three lions now (they got blue?? I guess? Or maybe not but either way they’re for sure on earth now so it’s a matter of time) but zarkie’s probably pissed that the black lion is sealed away until the rest are there So red, blue, and black and for now since it’s sealed they don’t mind leaving Shiro to guard black Or maybe they don’t even know they have black And even then zarkon kinda needs Allura to open the hatch So like it’s important she’s kidnapped but Shiro has no idea she’s important and doesn’t report having captured her right away or something He doesn’t want to be the monster they made him into but he thinks there’s no choice He’s trying to free the kids. Save the children ahhhh Also though. The castle and Allura could point zarkon in the direction of the yellow and green lions but like eh will this come into play yet Right back on other track The townsfolk are resistance fighters They’re like. Not evil. They just don’t believe in Coran and altea and voltron (and maybe even if they do they know zarkon was the black lion or smth?) So like….there’s not really a gaston / at least not one obsessed with Allura But like…lowkey it’s Matt And like lefou is Sam Or the other way around I don’t really care But like these resilient 'human’ dudes are like leaders in this resistance And like fuck they’re going to let the galra get away with anything They got taken away from their family, might never see Katie or (shit what’s mom’s name???) again Also they took Shiro and neither (nor any of their alien compatriots) have ever seen him again Can only assume he’s dead at this point Besides it’s better than alternatives (like the truth hahahahhaha) So instead of getting married it’s like an obsession with defeating the galra? Or…something? Ah yes looked it up it’s Colleen Holt Also their dog is Gunther Just as notes here Ok cool right Um yea for like the transformation back I’m not doing this glorified Stockholm shit Sorry not sorry Basically haggar was like you have to love someone and be loved by them But like fine print you can’t truly love anyone if you don’t love yourself Like yes Shiro starts falling for Allura she’s amazing but she’s not what breaks the spell It’s the four paladins, maybe they were a bit of a mess when they got stuck in this situation and they were definitely not happy but they came to (or in Keith’s case already did) really care for Shiro and they help him learn to cope and accept himself and shit And awww they end up loving him they’d do anything for him he’s space family now They don’t blame him for the shitty situation and instead they figure out a way that they can use it to fight back and resist Maybe it doesn’t work but at least they’re 'going down swinging’ And Shiro realizes it’s not just guilt he feels for them He truly loves them too as family Even if he’s stuck as a galra for the rest of his life he’s going to fight for them and for earth and the universe and with his position he realizes he can make a difference He’s got the castle and black And the princess (of course he does let her go, prob before the mushy good feels family stuff, he might have been falling for her but he didn’t feel worthy of her anyway and he wanted better for her) So yeah the 'townsfolk’ show up after she reaches Coran and like they’re just confused Why are there more humans on this galra-infested warship? What happened to champion? Wtf even are humans? How do they manage this crazy shit? And all hell breaks loose when Matt and Sam see pidge And it gets crazier when Allura and Coran finally catch up to the resistance and get back on the castleship Alluras like who’re you people Lance: aw what babe c'mon there’s no way you don’t recognize someone this handsome (probably getting slapped and groaned at but also everyone’s just tired and relieved to be corporeal again and are glad he’s acting 'normal’ still) Allura: jfc wtf the galra created AIs that come to life???? Coran we can’t trust them it’s probably a trap And Shiro’s all no wait it’s not their fault they were stuck like that Anyway things are eventually cleared up Now they need to recover the lions Also Allura probably still has major galra trust issues which like Maybe should be addressed like haggar noticed Keith was part galra before doing the quintessence thing so everyone’s protective of him when she says something along the lines of being relieved that since shiros not galra it means all galra really are evil Something I don’t really want to leave it with her not confronting the issues not being able to cope with her planet’s destruction have caused Hm. Anywho yeah not sure if I’d want to continue at that point but the shallura would be warming up yet not fully at fruition and there’d probably be some actually-being-physical-lifeforms-again shenanigans but otherwise the open-endedness kinda works for me And shiro still learning to cope as well that ptsd ain’t just disappearing especially since he did even worse things in this au after being transformed Eventual recovering the lions and saving the universe ensues. Yay! And yeah I mean I left out like all the paladin interactions but those’re also really important to me and definitely a thing but it’s past 3am so I’m thinking I should stop now Also also the holt / resistance interactions And Coran Those too All the interactions Probably not much fight scenes just interactions those’re more my jam Wow if anyone actually read all that props to you man you just survived the wilderness of my mindscape, A+ nice job And I dunno if this has been done before or not? But yeah that’s my take on the thing.