#Blade Fuse Clip

[sunsetbridge555]

i drew my avatar helel and chrom as pokemon . hi guys

[fromdove]

THINGS YOU DO THAT THE BATBOYS FIND ATTRACTIVE ! batboys x reader

“God, you’re impossible. And I’m so screwed, because I think I’d let you ruin me.”

— fem!reader, suggestive thoughts in jasons & bruces part (maybe dick too??)

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

JASON TODD

the way you hold eye contact when you're angry

It started as a slow simmer—your voice, low and clipped, each word deliberate, sharp enough to slice through the heavy Gotham air. Jason wasn’t even sure what the hell you were mad about anymore. The way your eyes were locked on his, unwavering, lit from within by something electric—it drowned out everything else.

You stood across the room, spine straight, chest rising with each measured breath. Not yelling. Not crying. Just...burning. And looking at him.

There was something about that. The way you didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Like you could take every jagged, bloodstained part of him and still meet him dead-on, like you’d never blink first. It made his heart twist in his chest, something old and animal uncoiling inside him. He’d faced down murderers, monsters, lowlife scumbags—but the fury in your gaze made his throat go dry. Not because he feared it. Because he wanted to touch it. touch you.

You took a step forward, the kind that didn’t echo but reverberated, and that subtle movement—how your hands stayed relaxed at your sides, how your mouth didn’t tremble when you spoke—undid him.

“Don’t try to bullshit me, Jason.”

There was a beat. One taut, blistering moment where the only thing louder than your breath was the pounding in his ears.

And then he laughed. Just a breath of it, almost involuntary. The kind of laugh you get when something hurts and turns you on at the same time. He didn’t even mean to. It just escaped him.

You frowned, and that only made it worse. He wanted to bite your lip just to see if your mouth would still taste like fire when it was pressed against his. He wanted to grab your face and kiss you so hard it left bruises.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful when you’re pissed,” he murmured, voice low and hoarse, almost reverent.

You blinked at that—but didn’t back down. And the way your stare softened just a fraction, that flicker of confusion folding into resolve again... yeah. That did it. That almost ended him right then and there.

He stepped closer, slow, deliberate, like approaching a lit fuse. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch, to pull, to anchor.

“You gonna hit me?” he asked, tone dark and dangerous and barely hanging on.

You tilted your chin up. “Wouldn’t waste the energy.”

God. That. That right there. The grit in your voice. He could live off that kind of defiance. He wanted to.

Jason had never been good at softness. He didn’t know what to do with people who crumbled. But you—? You held his gaze like a storm, like a girl who could kill him with her silence, and suddenly, all he wanted to do was beg for a second chance to make you smile again.

Not because he deserved it. Because he’d die trying to.

DICK GRAYSON

the way you reach for him in your sleep

It starts small. Always does. You shift once, twice—barely there. Then your hand moves, unthinking. Across sheets warm with your shared heat, it searches.

You don’t know you're doing it. That’s what makes it criminal. You’re not asking to be loved in that moment. You’re assuming it. Trusting the world to place him where he belongs: next to you.

And Dick—poor, cursed Dick—is already awake.

He lies still, pretending. Letting you find him. Every nerve is alight, tuned to the sound of your breath, the whisper of cotton as your wrist brushes the inside of his arm. Then—finally—your hand finds his chest, right over the scar where a blade once tried to make him quiet forever.

Your fingers twitch. Then still. Then curl.

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

He’s not thinking about villains or masks or the weight of his last name. He’s not worried about who’s watching, or whether he’s enough. He’s just a man now.

A man undone by the way you, unconscious and vulnerable, reach for him like he’s home. Like your body knows him, wants him, chooses him—without performance, without pride.

And it’s just so fucking sweet. The sweetness that life had never thought him deserving of—never bothered to offer, as if the universe had forgotten him in some quiet corner—was suddenly there, in you. And only then did he realize what he had been starved of.

There’s something maddening about your vulnerability—how you press against him in sleep, skin warm and scent-heavy, mouth parted just slightly. Innocent, yes. But not harmless.

Not to him.

He could write an entire religion based on the way your breath hitches when his hand covers yours. He could burn entire cities if someone tried to pull you away while you sleep.

Because this—this secret, sacred moment where you choose him without knowing— is the kind of thing he’s never let himself want.

But now that he’s had it, he knows.

He’ll want it forever.

BRUCE WAYNE

the way you tilt your chin when you're defiant

It is the tiniest gesture—a tilt of the chin, so slight it might pass for nothing at all. But to him? It is semaphore, a flare in the dusk, a gauntlet tossed with exquisite subtlety.

You do it when you disagree. Not with loud words or theatrics. No. You just raise your chin. Barely. As if your body is saying, “I’m not afraid of you.”“I’ll meet you there, if you push.”

And God help him, he wants to push.

You do this thing where your jaw tightens just slightly, where your eyes go sharp and patient at the same time—like you’ve already calculated the cost of standing your ground and decided to pay it anyway.

You look… royal. As though Gotham’s grime never dared graze your skin. Like tragedy tried and failed. Like you’d walk into fire if it meant protecting what’s yours.

And that infuriates him.

Because Bruce—Bruce—knows what defiance costs. He’s worn it like armor. Bled for it. Buried people because of it.

But when you do it?

It doesn’t look like self-destruction. It looks like purpose. Power. Something beautiful he was never allowed to have.

He wants to touch your face when you tilt your chin like that. Wants to grab your wrist and pull you into him—not to overpower, but to understand. To memorize the blueprint of that defiance. To feel it against his mouth.

You make silence feel like war. And he’s losing.

Because there is something deeply, dangerously erotic about a woman who doesn’t flinch when she should. Who doesn’t soften to make him comfortable. Who looks at the darkest thing in him—and doesn’t look away.

He’s not used to being watched like that. He’s not used to wanting to be watched like that.

And every time you lift that chin, he’s reminded of exactly how easy it would be to give up the act, the mask, the fiction of the untouchable man—

—all for one person who sees him and doesn't look away.

[mkke2osssi]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/electromechanical--circuit-protection--fuse-holders/83500000005-littelfuse-8157412

Littelfuse, 83500000005, Circuit Protection Device, Fuse Holders, Clips & Blocks

5 x 20 mm Panel Mount, Shock Safe Flush Mount Fuse Holder Cap

[ingeniousmindoftune]

Can you please do Sinners with Sammie x Reader. But please make sure that reader or your of gets bitten but not turned. Basically just do the whole scene with the vampires invading the speakeasy and then reader gets bitten, then sammie sees her and he follows through with his promise of killing her if she gets bitten.

Bite of Betrayal

Sammie x Reader

Warnings: Vampires,violence, emotional angst, betrayal, near-death, protective love, heartbreak, blood, gore, trauma, intense emotional angst, heartbreak, violence, protective/possessive love, emotional aftermath, themes of death and trust.

Note: Reader gets bitten but not turned. This is a bittersweet/angsty scene with strong emotions and gritty atmosphere.

Word Count: ~2,000

The speakeasy felt like a secret carved into the earth—its ceiling hung so low your shoulders brushed the dark-stained beams, and the thick limestone walls swallowed every roar from the street above. Rich burgundy velvet drapes pooled at the floor, muffling footsteps and hiding corners where whispers curled like curling smoke. The mahogany bar gleamed under wrought-iron sconces whose amber flames trembled against chipped plaster. A lone pianist’s fingers coaxed a smoky jazz lament from yellowed keys, each breathy trumpet cry sliding through the haze of whiskey fumes and hushed confidences. Candlelight puddled in brass holders, flickering over brass footrails and stained-glass mirrors, giving the whole room a secretive, golden hush.

You hadn’t noticed Sammie slip in beside you until his elbow pressed against the small of your back. His trench coat still clung to the damp chill of the alley, and the brim of his fedora cast a shadow over his eyes. He leaned forward, the scent of cedarwood cologne drifting against the whiskey in the air, and his lips, cool and deliberate, brushed your temple. He straightened, fingers curling around the ornate brass rail. “Don’t move,” he murmured—so low you might have imagined it. “I’ll be right back.” His smile was a promise you’d never doubted.

Then something snapped.

First, the sconces guttered, their flames sputtering like wounded insects. The pianist’s final chord hovered in the air and died. A woman’s scream ricocheted off the stone, sharp enough to freeze your blood. Crystalware shattered—glittering rain against the polished floor—as cold seeped through the candles’ warmth. Then came the sour tang of spilled bourbon fused with something rotten, like soil left to rot under a forgotten tomb.

Shapes unfurled from the gloom: towering silhouettes, limbs too long and thin to be human, sliding across the floor with a disturbing grace. Their eyes burned ember-red, teeth curved into cruel crescents that gleamed white in the candlelight. A hungry stench rolled off them in waves, sinking into your gut and twisting your stomach into knots.

Chaos ignited. Glass bottles exploded in showers of amber liquid; patrons stumbled, screaming, arms flailing as overturned stools skidded across the boards. A red-faced drunkcareened into a table, sending glasses flying. In the far corner, a man’s howl cut off mid-word as invisible hands yanked him across the floor, his throat opened in a spray of ruby that painted the wood in wicked arcs.

Vampires.

Your heart thundered so loud you felt it in your ears. Instinct sent your hand to your thigh, fingers closing around the slender silver blade Sammie had clipped to your garter. In one fluid motion you drew it free—only to freeze as icy breath ghosted across your neck.

“I always liked sweetbloods,” a voice rasped, low and amused. A gaunt figure drifted into the candlelight, pale collarbones gleaming, a cruel smile curving his lips.

You spun and slashed. The blade carved a burnished arc across translucent flesh; the creature’s laughter echoed like bone rattling. In a heartbeat he seized your wrist, yanking it back until pain flared along your bones. His amber eyes danced with savage delight.

“Feisty,” he growled, tilting you toward the bar. You felt the polished wood bite into your spine as he slammed you forward—glass beneath you shivered and splintered under the impact. Pain exploded up your back in hot shards, but rage blazed brighter. You kicked out, boot connecting with his shin. He snarled and bared his fangs.

Then he struck—jaws clamped down on your shoulder in a vicious arc of white and crimson. Fire surged through you, searing nerve endings with each pulse. You screamed raw, a ragged sound that cut through the din as cold began to snake through your limbs, dulling your world.

Bang! Bang!

Two thunderous cracks shattered the frenzy. You convulsed as the vampire’s weight slumped from your shoulder. The world tipped; your vision fractured into shards of shadow and flame. Through the haze you saw Sammie standing amid splintered glass and overturned chairs, his trench coat ticked with ash and blood. A pistol hung limply in his hand, smoke curling from its twin barrels. He had shot point-blank into the creature’s skull; gray dust drifted down from its ruined face.

“Y/N—!” His voice cracked, wrenching the edges of panic and relief together.

Strong arms swept beneath you, lifting you from the wreckage. Sammie pressed you against his chest, his fingers trembling as they probed the crimson stain blooming at your shoulder. His eyes, wide with horror, locked on the curved silver blade slick with your blood.

“He bit you,” he hissed, every breath rattling like a cracked bell. “If they bite you—”

You forced your throat to work, croaking out a nod. “I—I tried to fight—”

He recoiled as if struck, light flickering in his eyes, turning cold. “Do you remember what I said?” His voice was hollow, like a gravestone.

You did. If their fangs ever broke your skin, Sammie would kill you before you could rise as one of them—a vow he’d fulfilled for countless others. Your pulse hammered in your ears as you met his gaze.

“Sammie, please,” you whispered, fingers clutching the lapel of his coat. “I’m still me. I can feel it.”

He flinched, pain warring with resolve. His pistol arm rose, hand shaking so hard the barrel quivered against your chest. “You don’t know that,” he rasped.

“Sammie, you love me,” you pleaded, voice raw.

His jaw clenched like steel. “I do,” he choked, “and that’s why I can’t let you become one of them.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you reached for his shaking hand. “Then help me live,” you begged. “Don’t—don’t kill me.”

His shoulders trembled; the barrel lifted, wobbling. He stared at you, the weight of every promise pressing down. The gun slipped from his feeble grip and clattered to the floor. Sammie sank to his knees, pulling you into his lap, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath was hot, ragged against your skin.

“I should kill you,” he whispered, voice breaking. “But I can’t. I won’t.”

You closed your eyes against the pain, drawing what little strength you had into a single breath. “Then help me live.”

A fierce determination flashed in his haunted eyes. He brushed your hair back, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “We’ll find a healer—witch, alchemist, whatever it takes. I’ll burn this city to ashes before I lose you to the darkness.”

Your blood dulled your limbs, but in Sammie’s arms you felt a fragile spark of hope. “I trust you,” you murmured.

He lifted you gently, cradling your injured side against his heart. “Then trust me this: I will save you. If you do turn, I’ll be the one to end it. But until then, I swear I will not let you go.”

With that vow echoing in the ruined speakeasy, he carried you into the night—leaving behind splintered wood and spilled blood. Beyond those battered doors lay a world ablaze and unknown, but in Sammie’s steadfast grip you were still alive.

But little did you know, he planned to kill you once you entered the night. Because he made a promise, a promise he would hold to heart.

[moonwalkingprincess]

Mockingbird part 9: Mockingbird

Summary: Em brings hailee to therapy

words: 1747

Warnings: idk?

Pairings: Eminem x singer reader

You parked at the driveway, you looked at all the familiar houses in front of you, and you couldn’t help but to get a little choked up. You missed him so much. Hailee hadn’t spoken since you left your house — arms crossed, jaw set..

You shifted the car into park and looked at her, hesitant.

“Do you want me to walk you up?”

She shook her head, already reaching for the door handle. “No. I’ve got it.”

Before you could respond, she was out of the car, slamming the door shut with a sharp finality. You exhaled, watching her storm up the steps like a fuse ready to burn out.

The door opened before she could even knock.

Marshall stood there — arms folded, brows furrowed, his whole body taut with worry. Relief flickered in his eyes for half a second before it was buried beneath anger.

“Hailee.” His voice cut through the air like a blade. Firm. Sharper than usual. “Where the hell were you?”

“She decided to go on an adventure,” you said gently, trying to diffuse the crackling air between them. “She took the bus to my place. Told me I should forgive you.”

Marshall’s eyes flicked to you, the muscle in his jaw tightening. “I didn’t tell her to do that,” he added quickly, holding his gaze.

“Oh, I know.” you let out a short, humorless breath, shaking your head. “Come on, You? Letting Hailee walk around alone, in Detroit? No. I knew this wasn’t you.”

“She showed up at my door with this whole plan,” you said. “I didn’t even know she was coming. I just… kept her safe once she was there.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just looked past you to Hailee, who stood with her arms crossed, the same stubborn fire burning in her eyes that lived in his. The resemblance had never been clearer.

Then he sighed — a deep, tired breath that seemed to empty all the fight out of his shoulders.

“I wasn’t in danger, dad.” she said.

“That’s not the point,” he snapped. “My work makes it really dangerous for you to go on adventures by yourself. You need security with you. Always.”

“I just wanted to make things right!,” she shot back. 

“This isn’t a game,” he said, stepping aside to let her in. “You’re grounded.”

She stopped in the doorway, staring at him like he’d just betrayed her. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t your daughter.”

The words hit like glass shattering. Before either of you could move, she turned, ran down the hallway, and slammed her bedroom door behind her.

Silence filled the space she’d left behind.

Marshall stood frozen for a moment, his shoulders tense. Then he turned to you, the weight of it all sitting heavily on his face.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For bringing her back safely.”

You gave him a small, tired smile. “I should probably go.”

He paused, gaze searching yours. “Can you… at least stay for coffee?”

There was something in the way he asked — not desperate, not demanding. Just a man trying to breathe in the wreckage.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. I can do that.”

As you followed him inside, the front door closed softly behind you, you both entered the kitchen. He reached into the cabinet and pulled out two mismatched mugs — one chipped at the rim, the other with a faded Red Wings logo.

“So… seeing anybody?” he asked, like it was casual. Like it didn’t land with a thud between you.

You turned to him, disbelief flashing across your face. “I literally left you yesterday,” you said, your voice clipped, sharp.

He paused, mug in hand, halfway to the counter. “I know.”

You crossed your arms. “Then why the hell would you ask me that?”

He set the mug down with a quiet clink. “Because I miss you Princess” he put his hand in yours “i drive myself crazy without you”.

You stared at him, the storm in your chest swirling faster, rising to your throat. Words burning.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t bring your ex-wife here like it was nothing.”

Marshall frozen.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. His next words came low and clipped, not quite a shout, but laced with the kind of sharpness that made you flinch more than yelling ever could.

“There’s nothing going on between me and Kim,” he snapped. “You heard her. She hates me after the music.”

You blinked at him, heart pounding. “Then why was she here, Marshall? Why now? Why when we were just—finally—getting somewhere?”

He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face, frustrated. Tired. “Because she’s Hailee’s mom. And she found out about some stuff I didn’t want her to. I didn’t invite her to ruin anything. I didn’t invite her to get between us.”

“But she did.” Your voice cracked just enough for him to hear the hurt behind the words. “And you let her.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you like he wanted to say a thousand things but couldn’t pick one without setting the whole house on fire.

“I didn’t want you to get pulled into my mess,” he finally said, softer now. “But you always do. You care too damn much.”

“Yeah,” you said, folding your arms tighter across your chest. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

The kettle behind him started to boil, its whistle building like pressure in your ribs. Neither of you moved to stop it. “Maybe it’s time for me to stop caring at all.”  All you did was grab your jacket and walk out of there, leaving Marshall heartbroken again. He threw a spoon into the wall. What was he gonna do to prove to you that she’s out of his life forever?

__

The waiting room was quiet, all he heard was the  fish tank humming in the corner, bubbles rising in slow rhythm while a fish darted through plastic seaweed. Marshall sat stiff in the oversized chair, elbows on his knees, thumb running absently over a crack in his palm. Hailee sat across from him, hood up, earbuds in, lookin at the fishtank. He decided therapy was the best idea for now. Maybe, maybe, if Hailee can work out her problems he could get you back. He glanced over at her. She didn’t look up.

The door opened and a soft voice called, “Hailee?”

She didn’t move until Marshall gently touched her knee.

“Go on,” he said, quieter than usual. “I’ll be right here.”

She gave him a look — half uncertain, half annoyed — but got up and followed the therapist inside.

He stayed in that waiting room the whole fifty minutes. Didn’t look at his phone. Didn’t scribble lyrics in the notepad in his pocket. Just sat there. Thinking. Wondering if he was doing any of this right.

When the door opened again, Hailee came out first. Her expression was unreadable, but her arms weren’t crossed anymore. That was something.

The therapist, Dr. Langley, followed. A small woman with soft eyes and zero tolerance for bullshit — which is probably why he picked her.

“She was brave,” she said gently, folding her hands in front of her. “Braver than she thinks.”

Marshall exhaled, eyes still half on the door. “She say anything?”

“She said a lot.” Dr. Langley gave him a look that didn’t ask for eye contact — just waited for it. “She’s scared, Marshall. That’s normal for kids when their parents split. But underneath it all, what she’s really wondering is… if you still love her. Or if there’s only room in your life for someone new.”

His head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing like she’d just spoken a different language. “What? That’s—” He shook his head sharply. “That’s crazy. Of course I love her. More than anything.”

“I believe you,” she said calmly. “But she’s 8. And from her perspective, love doesn’t always look like it sounds.”

His chest tightened, hands curling into fists at his sides. He looked away again, jaw flexing. “I never wanted to hurt her. I just… I thought maybe it was finally okay to move on.”

Dr. Langley’s voice remained even. “It is okay. You’re allowed to find happiness again. But she needs to be a part of that journey, not just a witness to it.”

He swallowed hard, throat thick. “She hates y/n.”

“She doesn’t hate her,” Dr. Langley corrected gently. “She hates that she has to share you with her. There’s a difference.”

Marshall nodded slowly, the words settling into him like cold water — uncomfortable, but sobering.

“She needs reassurance,” she added. “Not just words. Time. Patience. Presence. And maybe a little less privacy when it comes to this relationship.”

He exhaled sharply, the breath rattling a little in his chest. His hand dragged down his face, fingers scrubbing at the stubble on his jaw. “God,” he muttered. “I’m not good at this.”

Dr. Langley’s lips curved just slightly, not quite a smirk — more like a glimmer of something wry beneath all the clinical calm. “You’re a rapper, Marshall,” she said. “Why don’t you rap it to her?”

His brows lifted, caught off guard. “What?”

She tilted her head, arms still folded. “Isn’t that what you do best?”

He huffed out a breath that might’ve been a laugh if it wasn’t weighed down by so much guilt. “Yeah, well… I’m better with bars than emotions.”

“She doesn’t need perfect emotions. She needs yours.”

Marshall nodded slowly, the truth settling heavy and cold in his chest — not cruel, but clear. He could write verses for a million strangers and turn pain into platinum. But for his own daughter… he was still learning how to just say: I love you. I’m not going anywhere. You come first.

He glanced toward the door again, the ghost of a line already forming in the back of his mind — something small, unfinished.

Maybe this time, it wasn’t about rhyming the right words.

Maybe it was about saying the real ones.

After he dropped Hailee off at her friend's house, he thought about what the doctor said. Maybe he was right… maybe Hailee just needed reassurance and maybe he could just rap it to her.. he drove of to the studio, got in, put the mic and headphones on and just started: 

Yeah

I know sometimes

Things may not always make sense to you right now

But hey

What did Daddy always tell you?

Straighten up, little soldier

Stiffen up that upper lip

What you cryin' about?

You got me

Masterlist

[kaiowut99]

Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters GX Episode 126 Subbed (Finalized)

(Previously: Episodes 124-125 Subbed [Finalized])

(Check out my Subbed!GX Stream Masterpost!)

TURN-126: Judai VS Manjoume -- Dark Sword the Dragon Knight

Judai pursues Martin as he heads towards where the three Phantasms have been locked away--only to find the zombified Manjoume standing in his way. As Manjoume refuses to make way for him, Judai ultimately duels him, with Manjoume summoning Return Zombie and Blood Vorse as he pounces on Judai. Elsewhere, having learned that Johan and co.'s duels were a ruse, the students rush inside to get to where the food is, but they are beaten by the zombie students, causing most of the students to have now become zombies. Just then, at the power-generator area, O'Brien hears a transmission from someone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

126 is now finalized! Just a quick 'un this time since I ran a bit late with myself for GX work--got a bit caught up in some interesting TFSP stuff along with my round of story-translation with Kite's story events lol--and since episodes 127-128 and 129-130 lead into each other pretty well, I thought I'd just work on 126 this time as a bit of a calm before the storm. And it does offer that vibe, as we get Martin dashing for the three Phantasms--remember them?--and Judai in hot pursuit, only for a zombie Manjoume to get in his way. The Dark Sword the Dark Demon Realm Dragon Knight (Dark Blade the Dragon Knight--OCG name be long here) he pulls out is kinda neat, its only having one appearance aside, while the conversation that Misawa has with Zweinstein later gives our group some hope to get out of this dimension if they can get past the zombie horde to get to the tennis courts (remember them?).

Animation error-wise, only a handful of quick things to work on for 126 (maybe a benefit of having two Animation Directors on board for this one?): two card edits, a split screen, and an odd quick flash of a Duel Disk part not being drawn in, lol. Also, two bits in the preview related to episode 127. As usual, edit breakdowns below the cut for the interested!

Quick housekeeping: quickly revisited and re-finalized episode 107's hardsub after noticing that I had Ed missing from the translated ending credits for that episode (instead accidentally listing Rei in both cast lists); links updated in the release post there and in the masterpost. oop

Anywho, enjoy! Hoping not to delay myself too much over the next couple weeks in getting 127 and 128 finalized, lol; before I fully work on them, I'll first be back in TFSPland hopefully knocking out both Kotori and Rio's stories to cap off ZEXAL's story events, along with some more incidental work on ARC-V "Dub-Uncut" episode 2. Stay tuned!

Fixes and Edits!

Clocking in as our first error around 12:43 (not too long after the second Animation Director's team kicks in after Flame Wingman's summoning [that's where you can tell the shift from Chi Man Park's style to Ok Mi Lee's]), as Manjoume summons Dark Sword the ... Dragon Knight and Judai looks on, there's a black square on his Disk where Flame Wingman's card should be. A relatively easy fix, as I just slapped on a proxy over it in AfterEffects.

A bit later, as Misawa tries to get into the Power Generator Complex's control panel but has trouble doing so, Kenzan and the others run over to help--but there's a quick movement frame (lasting three total frames) as Kenzan moves to run over where part of his inactive Disk is literally missing--you can see the background of some power-generator panels behind him through the gap, lol. Fixed using Photoshop to grab that part from a later frame in the shot, clipping it out and slightly rotating/adjusting it to fit into this shot; made a perfect fit! Once done, I threw the fixed frame into the footage in Sony Vegas. (Actually noticed this one after working on the other edits as I was revising the episode's subs.)

Later, as Judai summons Gran Mole and has him Contact-Fuse with Neos, there's a quick frame as we pan up to Neos and Gran Mole fusing where Judai has Gran Mole in Monster Zone 2 on his Disk, which should be occupied by Neos. Another quick and easy AfterEffects fix as I just applied a Neos proxy over it.

This one was interesting... After Judai summons Gran Mole and Manjoume notes he also has the same ATK as his Dark Sword the ... Dragon Knight, Judai clicks in on a split-screen to activate his effect; once he explains it, their split-screen splits apart, but Manjoume's moves first for two frames before Judai's finally rapidly moves as their uneven slide-out lasts just five frames (vs the usual 7-8). Fixed this in Sony Vegas by masking out and redoing their slide-outs to be simultaneously timed, making them smoother to last the more common seven frames.

In the preview for 127, as we see the Phantasms' silhouettes rising behind Amon's Eye of the Typhoon, Amon and Martin slide in on a quick split-screen before sliding out to show Eye of the Typhoon being made to dissipate--but for a quick frame on slide-in and slide-out, the border on Amon's split is a bit ghosty and faded, while on the slide-out, the close-up of Eye of the Typhoon being transitioned into is also briefly missing. Being fixed first for 127 proper then applied as I set up the translated preview, I redid the border on Amon's split for both ghosty instances to look more per usual, while on the slide-out, I masked in part of the close-up Eye of the Typhoon shot between him and Martin. (Couldn't really apply this fix to the original preview due to the Japanese title text over the shot.)

As the 127 preview wraps, we have a shot of a shrouded-in-darkness Raviel standing up, with his eyes ominously glowing red as he does so--in 127 proper, this was removed for some reason, so he stands up with his eyes looking normal. I thought it made more sense to still have his eyes ominously glow, so I took the preview version of the shot and masked out the glowing eyes over the footage from 127 to restore it for both the translated preview and the episode proper.

[unknown-writez]

Misfit Toys

Chapter Five: Creation of Minx- Part Six

Turning to Theo Jerome did a bow saying “thank you.” in between laughs then turned towards me grabbing my hand as he pulled me towards the door. Before we left Jerome put his arm around my shoulders holding me close while shouting “Get ready boys! We have a big show tonight!” to everyone else in the room leaving after. He led us back to our room and the second the door closed he swept me up off my feet by my waist and spun me around holding me close. “You were amazing!” he said, his voice proud and sweet as he put me down. “Does that mean I passed the test?” I asked smiling “With flying colors.” he replied and I felt blush creep onto my cheeks “greenwood the imbecile can’t count. I knew exactly where that bullet was. Besides I know a loaded gun. I could feel it. In the circus we played that game all the time.” he explained shrugging “I knew you did. I didn’t doubt you for a second.” I replied “Smart girl but you're not done yet. We still have the main event. The ultimate test. Think you can handle it?” he said, taunting “What is it?” I asked “You’ll see.” he replied with a devious smile “We’re gonna need a couple things first. The boys are picking out and grabbing everything and putting it in the car now. Lucky for us I already grabbed all the good stuff.'' He finished dropping to the ground in front of the bed and pulled out a big black case. He opened it up and  grabbed two ivory and gold revolvers admiring them with a small smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes for a bit before stashing them away in his pants. Afterwards he grabbed out a couple small knives and switchblades putting some in his pockets. His fingers glided over the metal blade for a second as he turned one in his hands before putting it away and turning his smile to me. “You’re gonna need these.” he said, passing me some grenade looking devices that had clips on them to attach to my belt. I hesitated for a second and Jerome gave a sigh and an irritated eye roll saying “Their not bomb bombs just fun ones like smoke. You’re not gonna blow up.” giving him a nod I grabbed them putting them on my belt “Good. You’re gonna have fun I promise.” he finished closing and sliding the case that was still quite full of stuff back under the bed. He stood up and put his arm around me again leading me out the door and down the hall to an elevator. Once in the golden mirror covered area he hit the button marked G the doors soon closing after. “You hesitated. I know you're new at this…” Jerome said, turning in front of me blocking the door. “So I’ll cut you some slack just this one time but…” he continued taking a step forward leaning his arm on the mirror behind me  pinning me between the wall. His body and face extremely close to mine. “Seriously, don't embarrass me in front of people. You looking weak makes me look weak and I can’t have that now can I.” he said bringing his free hand up. His fingers brushing my neck lingering there for a second before grabbing my jaw and stroking my cheek with his thumb. “I and most people around me tend to have short fuses and I wouldn’t want that pretty face of yours getting hurt.” he finished having looked me up and down hungrily. His eyes now poured into mine, his tone playful still but with a dangerous edge. I titled my head and scoffed with a smirk before shoving him off the wall and away from me sending a playful “Like that’s gonna happen.” His way. His warning stayed in the back of my mind but I wasn’t going to act intimidated by him. Jerome laughed for a couple seconds before the elevator door opened to a dark looking car garage full of nice looking cars. In it a big blacked out suv was parked in front of us.

[thelandswemadeofpaper]

Ezra wasn’t dumb, she knew what people thought of her.

She watched her classmates from the corner of the cafeteria, hands folded neatly in her lap, posture flawless, spine straight like it was wired in place. The raven-haired girl held herself back from frowning.

Her parents had always been clear about it: presentation matters. Ezra had learned early how to walk, talk, and smile like a proper lady. Manners, posture, lessons, networking etiquette before she even learned how to speak. And for the most part, she played her role well.

She knew what they said about her. Cold. Grumpy. Weird. Some of it was even true. But mostly, it was just easier this way.

Truly, she had a short fuse, got annoyed easily and always had been a fairly grumpy child. Far too many times, her tutors scolded her for frowning or snapping, for interrupting lessons with either dry, clipped questions or refusing to smile politely when she didn’t feel like it. Her parents called it "difficult." The housekeeper called her "fiery." Her mother's guests once commented on her sharp tongue.

Ezra knew she had a temper. A frown tugging at the edges of her face, a knife clutched too tightly during dinner, or a smile that looked more like barred teeth.

She was merely forced to mask it.

They praised her composure. They didn’t notice the clenched jaw and twitchy fingers behind it.

She never liked soft pastels or light blue dresses. She liked bold shapes and the color red—not the salmon her mother kept trying to push, but deep, vivid reds like warning signs or wild berries or fresh blood.

Ezra didn’t care for sweets—candies, cakes, anything overly sugary. Much preferred the bitter taste of citric fruits, their flavor lingering sour in every bite.

She liked sharp things. Loved how her great-aunt's old dagger feel in hand, the way the blade gleamed under light, the cold, smooth steel against her skin.

She liked bugs. Not the real ones, not exactly—those were too fast, too fragile—but the pictures. The way their wings glimmered like stained glass, the strange symmetry of their legs and antennae, the colors that looked too bright to be real. She had entire books filled with close-up photos: beetles with polished shells, moths with velvet wings, a dozen ants walking one behind another. Her room, tucked away at the far end of the estate, was lined with pages clipped from biology magazines and museum brochures, her bookshelf held odd antiques—an old compass, a bird made of porcelain, and other strange little treasures for her collection.

Her parents thought it was strange. Not concerning enough to interfere, just… peculiar. Eccentric, as her mother once called it. So they let her keep her bugs, her music box, her pocket watch and other trinckets—and politely pretended none of it existed. Ezra had the feeling they’d rather keep their ‘gifted’ daughter and her odd little hobbies quiet, a secret tucked behind closed doors.

It suited her fine.

She loved her room's wooden walls full of ink drawings of bugs like they were in paper jars instead of glass ones. She collected hourglasses of all shapes and sizes, loved the way the sand moved when she flipped them. She kept a box of colorful kaleidoscopes under her bed, turning them whenever her chest felt too tight.

She was left alone in house most of time time, her parents either away in a business trip or living in another state of America. Amity Park was her father's hometown and for all his sternness, Victor Salazar had a nostalgic heart in the way he still keep his aunt's fantasy books in his private library even after he called them 'useless'. Ezra guessed he had a fondness for Amity enough to want his only child to grow up here, even without a resonable reason.

A small town in Illinois had little to offer to business after all.

Amity Park wasn't much to look at for a good time, if you ignore the local mad scientists, until the ghosts started showing up.

At first, Ezra assumed it was some elaborate hoax made by 'the Fentons lunatics' her neighbor always spoke of. Weren’t they were always boasting about 'ghosts' and a portal to the afterlife—why not make their “ghost studies” real?

The news certainly thought so. They called it all “elaborated holograms.”

But didn’t take her long for the people to settle around the reality of the constant ghost attacks.

Ghosts weren’t new to her anymore. Not really. Amity Parkers made a spectacle of them—neon green lights, property damage, ghost hunters in jumpsuits. Her parents didn't believed in the 'ghost town' rumors, called it a publicity stunt, another tourist trap. They were too often way to be fully aware of it. She prefered to keep it that way.

Ezra knew better. She’d seen too much not to. Ghosts were real, dangerous, and yet nothing like the news made them out to be.

And then there was him.

The Ghost-Boy. The 'Inviso-Bill'. Amity Park's local ghost hero, Danny Phantom.

Half the school treated him like a celebrity, the other half like a threat. Ezra wasn’t sure what she thought. He didn’t act like the other ghosts—he protected people. Even when it hurt. Even when no one thanked him. That kind of selflessness didn’t line up with the monsters she read about in the Fentons science journals. It made her curious.

When she'd learned the Fentons were ghost hunters, something had clicked.

Danny Fenton wasn’t very good at hiding. Not to someone like her. He flinched too hard when ghosts were mentioned. Disappeared too often. Returned too conveniently. His eyes glowed green, once. Just for a second.

And surely the name 'Danny Phantom' was supposed to be creative?

She never told anyone of course.

After all, Ezra had secrets too.

She remembered the accident—barely. Pain, heat, pressure, and something breaking that wasn't quite her bones. A green portal. A rift. A moment where everything went green, and then wrong.

She hadn’t meant to get that close—only to look. Just for a second. The hum had drawn her in, low and unnatural. One wrong step. And then the world had turned inside out.

She woke up different.

At first, it took hours for her to turn back, moreso to stop phasing through walls and the floor. A few weeks later, somewhere between her 9th and 10th grade, was when her hometown simple decided to turn into a supernatural shounen anime and Ezra finally had her answers to why a magical green portal turned her hair white and skin cold.

Was she a ghost then?

There was not much about the 'Ghost Zone' and its inhabitants beyond the Fentons's loud claims of them begin vile monsters from another dimension, Wes Weston's conspiracy theories and Paulina's fan blog.

But the fact most battles were in her school helped her get her answers, there is a lot of banter during the fights after all.

And the term 'halfa' was throw around plently of times when refering to the local ghost boy hero, enough for her to search for it.

It wasn’t hard for her to connect the dots. Still, she wasn’t exactly sure what to do with that knowledge. Reveal herself? Confront him? No. Not yet.

She wasn't much superhero material. Danny Phantom could keep his status as Amity Park's only ghost hero.

But she knew Danny Fenton wasn’t the only halfa in Amity Park.

[ellustrate]

'The Blade,' fan illustration for Bungou Stray Dogs

Inspired by the painting 'The Nightmare' by Henry Fuseli and 'The Blade,' a song by Aurora. Characters shown are Dazai Osamu and Mori Ogai from Bungou Stray Dogs. I've made a scene inspired by my take on the relationship between these two characters in the series, the boy attacking his abuser. It’s a deviation from the series events, an idea i had for an alternate universe. Painted in clip studio paint, the time-lapse for which is shown below.

[glittercakes]

How do the transformation sequences of the Poké Mews look like?

Each of them activate their transformation through either their Trial Captain symbol or through a tattoo on their back for the Kahunas by shouting “Ultra Metamorphasis! (Beast Code Name)!”

Then they’re shown flying through an Ultra Wormhole surrounded by DNA strands made of light that change their clothes into a bodysuit with their respective colors (think the Ultra Gurdians uniforms from the anime). Then they collide with a version of the Ultra Beast they are fusing with, which gives them their Beast Parts. As a reminder, those are:

Ilima: Nihelego’s hat

Lana: Kartana’s should blades

Kiawe: Buzzwole’s wings

Mallow: Pheramosa’s antenna

Sophocles: Xurkitree’s tail

Acerola: Guzzlord’s mouth arms coming out of her shoulders

Mina: Celesteela’s rocket roots coming out of her feet

Hala: Bricks that resemble Stakataka surrounding him in a ring

Olivia: Markings that resemble Blacephelon’s sparks on her face (don’t worry she does not use her head as a bomb like Blacephelon does)

Nanu: Naganadel’s stinger tail

Hapu: Poipole’s helmet

Once that happened, they land in a replica of their respective Beast’s home in Ultra Space (for the Kahunas, it’s the top of Megalo Tower), where their accessories appear (they all have a pendant that resembles a Beast Ball and some wear extra bracelets and hair clips) and they strike a pose.

[yzafre]

we're flying above the valley below | Finale

AO3

First | Previous

Kairi’s heart ached as she watched Naminé crumple.  Beside her, Sora started forward, but Riku caught him by the shoulder, shaking his head.

“No - this... isn’t for us.”

“But,” Sora stopped, swallowed, glancing back and forth between the two curled into each other and the sky above, “If they stay here, they’ll be out in the open if Xehanort’s magic goes off.”

Kairi cast her gaze up at the sky, taking in the thickening plumes of magic, the condensing mass of power above the highest spire of rock.  Something dark flitted between it all, slowly arcing its way towards Xehanort.

Or, she realized, perhaps it was Xehanort.

After all, the youngest of the Organization had escaped her before she could finish him.

“You guys go ahead,” she said, “I just spotted the younger Xehanort – I'll deal with him, then come down to retrieve Naminé and Hitoshi.  It shouldn’t take long.”

“You sure?” Riku asked.

“Yes,” she said, “I’m finishing this.”

Sora nodded, “Then, we’ll leave it to you.”

As they flew off, she craned her head back, planning her path, setting her timing.  She started low – wide loops around the jagged cliff Naminé and Hitoshi were on, biding her time – and then, when the moment was right, she swooped down, gathering momentum to arc back up and streak into the sky.

Just as her upward momentum began to die, she reeled back, storing up strength, then flung the Keyblade up.  It flew forward with blinding speed, nearly clipping Xehanort if he hadn’t twitched out of the way – but that was fine.  When it was inches past his face, she grasped the connection between her and her Key and tugged, pulling herself through space to wrap a hand around the hilt and twist, slamming her blade into his stomach and baring both of them down.

The wind whistled past her ears as they fell; disoriented, he didn’t have time to react at the speed they were going.  Kairi kept her wings pinned back even as they hurtled ever closer to the ground below.  Almost there – almost, almost, almost – now!

At the last moment, she spread her wings, air catching underneath them immediately, if a bit painfully, arresting her momentum just enough for her to angle off and avoid collision.  Xehanort wasn’t’ so lucky.

A plume of dust went up from where he landed.  The waters rising through the cracked earth below hadn’t made it this far, though the nearby cliffs were fused with the strange white stair-stepping features, glinting stone pavement creeping across the ground from their edges.

This close, they almost looked like buildings.

Just as she touched down, Xehanort levered himself up with a groan that quickly turned into a snarl.

“You,” he hissed, “Have caused me far too many problems.”

“Well.  This will be the last.”

His face twisted in anger, and he lunged.

Objectively, Xehanort was stronger than her.

Oh, not as much as he had been back at the start of this Journey.  There was no teacher like experience, and she had grown fast.  But he was stronger.

But he was also carrying wounds from Terra’s armor, who was stronger than both of them still.

He was weak, and he was faltering – and on one lunge forward, his legs gave out, and he hit the dirt, Dark smoke beginning to drift off his form.  Despite how he struggled to get up, it was clear he was through.

“You - you think this means anything?” he says, “I'm only one version of myself – I'll just go back, and start us on the is path once more.  Look.”

He pointed to the sky, where the Dark sphere of magic beneath Kingdom Hearts was reaching critical mass.  Now that she was paying attention, the crackle of energy in the air was more than just adrenaline.  It was the very power of that magic beginning to press down on them.

Xehanort grinned, eyes burning through the Darkness that had nearly consumed him, “Maybe I won’t get to see it now – but someday, I’ll make it here again.  And I will succeed.”

If Kairi wanted to respond, she didn’t get the chance – his body finally gave out, and he faded away.

She stared at the place where he vanished for several long moments, before shaking the strange prickling unease off.  Her job was done – she needed to get to Naminé.

On the way back, her eyes were constantly drawn up to that condensing magic, the dense blaze falling through the sky around it.  At this point, there was no way she could make it up there.  She was stuck down here, with nothing she could do again.

Sighing, she let her gaze wander down, where it caught on a group of figures milling about agitatedly below, in the shadow of the great pillar.

Oh – the Princesses.  It was easy to forget, in all the fighting, but that was why they came here in the first place.

Maybe... there was something she could do.

Once they managed to find some kind of equilibrium, Terra, Aqua, and Ventus took to the sky, escaping the earthquakes that shook the ground with increasing frequency.  The situation looked much worse when Terra wasn’t seeing it through the haze of someone else’s eyes.

They met up with four others – a mouse, a red-head, a young girl, and a kid that looked shockingly like Ventus – as they circled the land.  It took some searching, but they managed to find stable ground on one of the growing white peaks, landing on a clearing paved with what looked like three different types of stone and surrounded by structures that might pass for buildings, if the only buildings you’d ever seen were in an impressionist painting.

“You’re all okay,” Ventus said, relieved, “You all defeated your opponents, then?”

The Mouse shook his head, “I lost track of Marluxia, actually.  Though, I don’t think he can make more trouble at this point.”

The red-half barked a laugh, “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

“So, all that’s left is Xehanort, then?” Aqua asked, and they all turned to survey the world, in all its damaged glory.

You’d never recognize the Keyblade Graveyard as it was now.  The plateaus were crumbling, with strange, tiered peaks breaking through them, dotted with spiraling trails and ruined buildings that almost reminded Terra of the Land of Departure.  At the very bottom, water seeped up through the growing cracks in the world, flooding the valleys and slowly turning each peak into its own island, the wasteland converting into an ocean world.

The sky, in contrast, was nearly on fire, dark plumes of magic thick as clouds, hanging low in the sky, threatening to burn anyone moving through the airways.

“Yeah, there’s no way we’re getting up there,” the red-head said.

“But we have to,” said the kid that looked like Ven, “Sora said, if that attack goes off, everything below it gets decimated.  If they can’t stop it, we’re dead.”

“Maybe not,” Ven said.  Terra turned to him, wondering what he saw – but Ven wasn’t looking up, he was looking down, a strange light in his eyes as he stared at water.

“What do you mean, Ven?” Aqua asked.

Ventus pointed towards the horizon, tracing an invisible line between the peak forming around the pillar Xehanort stood on and the water below.

“The reflection – it's wrong.”

Frowning, Terra turned to squint down at the water.  At first, he didn’t see what Ventus obviously did, but no, there was a hint, there, the shadow in the water flaring out the deeper it went, curving in elaborate flourishes.

“Down there,” Ventus said, voice almost hazy, “We can ride it out down there.”

“Are you sure?” Aqua asked.

“Yeah,” Ven said, finally turning away from the water, “Trust me.”

Aqua pursed her lips for a long moment, then nodded.

“Alright, we’ll follow your lead, Ven,” Mickey said.

“Woah, woah, woah,” the red-head protested, “I never agreed to go for a swim!”

“Would you rather take your chances up here?” the black-haired girl asked, and he subsided.

The shift happened in three phases:

First: breaking through the surface tension and diving into the water.  It was deeper than it should be.  The ground that once stood there was seemingly missing, instead giving way to a bottomless drop below.

Second: a twist in gravity.  They couldn’t have swum down more than thrice his height before there was a popping and swirling in his ear, and any sense of direction left him.  He spun, disoriented, until there was another pop and the concept of up was suddenly re-established.

Third: they passed through another kind of barrier that rippled across his skin like surface tension, and suddenly they were climbing out on to the steps of a tower, easily breathing though water still surrounded them.

“Isn’t this the place you - “ Someone started, and at first Terra thought it was Ven, but then came the reply - “Yeah.” - and no, that was Ventus.  The first was the boy that looked so much like him.

“Come on,” Ven said, voice uncharacteristically solemn, heart giving off a steady beat of – aching – longing – loss – and headed in.

Terra and Aqua, following close behind, exchanged a glance and a feeling of confusion-concern-care.

Ven led them through a small side entrance, through waterworks and machinery, up several flights of stairs.  The place held a strange sense of unreality – many aspects blurred over and indistinct, except where they weren’t, where they were sharp and almost hyper-realistic.  Others shifted from impressionistic to realistic, becoming clear in the wake of Ventus’ gaze, as if his attention made them real.

They continued until they came to a landing where he paused, body oriented to the next flight up before he shook his head, abruptly pivoting to the side.

“In here,” he said, staring up at the large, ornate doors, “The lifeboats are in here.”

Ventus, Terra, Aqua.  Axel, Roxas, Xion.  Mickey.  Seven people.

Seven lifeboats.

If they were there – would they be there?  He remembered some missing, and then they all took the rest, and -

And this place wasn’t supposed to exist anymore, either.  Nothing but a memory.

Yet here they were.

He shoved the heavy door open, shadowed memories sharpening the moment he saw the vaulted ceilings, the pipes and machinery, the pods, the world sharpening into reality with them.

It was so over-whelming he was late to note the man standing over the center pod, back to them.

“So you, too, were drawn here,” he said, and Ventus was seized by – pink hair and bright eyes and hands around his throat and grief and crumpling and forgiveness and darkness bursting and -

And his name remained stuck on the tip of his tongue, just out of reach.

“It’s strange.  I have no memory of this place, and yet... something in me aches,” he continued, chuckling darkly, “That’s not supposed to be possible, either.  And I can’t help but think... this is all your fault.”

Marluxia lunged, scythe cutting through the air.  Ventus met him with solid defense – one, two, three – on the fourth, Marluxia froze up, muscles seizing, before he dropped to the floor, dark smoke wafting off him.

“Lauriam!” The name punched out of Ventus, agonized, the weight of it driving him to his knees beside his old friend.

“Lauriam,” Marluxia repeated, as if relishing the taste of his name, “Oh.  I see.  It’s all starting to come back to me, now.”

Ventus held him tighter, pressing his mouth into a tight line to try and suppress the quivering in his jaw, swallowing down the lump in his throat.  Not that it mattered.  Lauriam kept fading in his hands, growing lighter and lighter. 

“Lauriam, they’re gone.  It’s all gone.  We’re all that’s left.”

“Well, I should hope so,” Lauriam said, “I didn’t drag you all the way to that lifeboat for you not to make it out.  Although, ending up in another Keyblade war wasn’t what I planned, either.”

A laugh forced its way painfully through the tightness in Ven’s chest, “We did a bad job running from it.”

“Yeah.  Maybe... we’ll do better, this time.”

“Maybe.”

Lauriam finished fading with a bittersweet laugh, and all that was left was the distant grinding of machinery.

“Ven?” Aqua called.

Bracing himself, Ventus stood, turning back to them.  Terra and Aqua’s hearts chased him with concern, but right now he – he couldn’t…

“Okay.  These pods can ride out anything.  Everyone get in.“

One after the other, they climbed into the pods.  He could see the uncertainty in many of them, but – what else could they do? 

Finally, they were all in place.  Ventus just managed to close the lid when the world began to shake.

Darkness exploded out in a wave across the world.  It ripped through the earth, opening great fissures, tearing the great cliffs and mountains asunder, before it began to tear into the rubble as well.

Darkness exploded out in a wave across the world, and Sora despaired – they weren’t fast enough, they weren’t strong enough – he could only hope Roxas had passed his message on and the others had fled to one of the other worlds hanging in his sky -

A wave of Light chased after the Darkness.  It spread like a rainbow ribbon, twining itself around the Dark magic, ensuring it, caging it, stopping its spread.  The two warred against each other, fed off each other, leading the Darkness to turn on its opposite rather than the world around it.

“What?” Xehanort snarled.

“Sora, look!”

Sora turned, looking where Riku was pointing.  On a still-intact peak next to him, a group of figures stood in a circle, Light pouring off them and spilling into the sky.

“The Princesses of Heart,” Riku breathed, “They’re holding off the Darkness.”

“Yes,” Xehanort said, “They are indeed holding it off – but, they are just holding it off.  I will simply have to remove this obstacle myself.”

“No!”

Xehanort spread his wings, and Sora and Riku moved as one.

The three met in the middle.  Sora and Riku caught the χ-blade in between their two Keys, the Kingdom Keys sparking together and ringing like a chime.  Light burst out, blinding them, burning at Sora’s hands till he flinched and let go.  Riku flinched beside him as well, all of them pulling back and away.

Sora cracked his eyes open cautiously as the Light faded, then gasped, eyes going wide.

“What?” Xehanort exclaimed, “Impossible!”

Hovering between them was a second χ-blade, an exact mirror of Xehanort’s but for the Keys making up the guard, which were color-shifted to match the ones Sora and Riku wielded.

“A heart of pure darkness, and a heart of pure light,” Riku said quietly. “It wasn’t people.  It was the hearts of the realms.”

Hesitantly, Riku reached out, wrapping a hand around the hilt.  It sent a shiver down Sora’s spine, feeling the touch as if it was his own Key, suddenly becoming aware of the second star taking up space in his chest.  He could feel Kairi in the distance, faintly marveling at its presence beneath her focus on her work with the Princesses.

“Can we use this to stop Kingdom Hearts?” Sora asked.

“No,” Xehanort snarled, “I will not be stopped now, not at this juncture!  Kingdom Hearts, hear my plea!”

Bright beams of light pierced down to halo Xehanort, slowly forming a door that engulfed him, the doors immediately beginning to swing close.

“No, you don’t!”

Riku thrust their χ-blade forward, a beam of light connecting the tip to the door, holding it open and tethered to reality.

“Sora, go!”

“But - !”

There was a rumble.  The sky behind Kingdom Hearts began to crack, deep, dark fissures spreading across the expanse, dripping heartless down onto the ravaged world below.  The rainbow Light twined like a lattice through the air stretched up, creating a barrier to contain them within this world – though trapping them here with the heartless as well.

“Sora, you have to!” Riku said.  “I can’t keep this up forever, and the heartless will just keep coming.”

“But what if the heartless reach you?”

“I can help with that,” a new voice cut in.

“Huh?”

Hitoshi appeared over the edge of the cliff, pausing a moment to help Naminé up behind him.

“Hitoshi,” Riku said, while Sora watched him warily, trying to settle the sudden clenching in his stomach, “Got your head on straight?”

“Heh.  Yeah, got all the pieces lined back up, with a little help.  Sorry, about before.  Let me pay it back to you.  I’ll keep the heartless away, so hero-boy here can go take care of business.”

“But… that’s a lot of heartless,” Sora said, “And we don’t know what happened to the others.  Can you really take all of them?”

Hitoshi paused, confidence warring with uncertainty on his face, but then – like a sign from above, the answer came.  Trumpets echoed through the air; Sora’s head snapped around.  Above, a glowing host descended from the sky, flying down in a procession from the closest world, led by a glowing figure on a Pegasus.

“Is that… Hercules?” Sora gasped.

Behin him, one of the host raised its trumpet once more, blowing a loud, long note.  Hercules raised his sword, and the whole crowd began to yell, flying down as one to clash against the Heartless.

A birdcall shrieked through the air.  It took a second to spot, but a giant raptor streaked through the sky, sharp talons tearing through all heartless in its way as it made a b-line for the princesses, transforming into a large, heavy-set man who stumbled into a run the moment he was in contact with the ground.

Behind Sora, cannon-fire.  He spun sharply, wings flaring to regain balance.  A large pirate ship flew through the air, Peter Pan flying circles around the mast, easily spotted with the glowing ball of sparkles hovering about his head.

And – there was Genie, throwing magic around wildly, Aladin just behind him on the flying carpet.  There, a streak of red flew through it all, Hiro clinging to Baymax’s back.  Everywhere, people descended from the worlds hanging in the sky, joining the fight.

“Sora, look!” Naminé said, grabbing his shoulder.  He followed where she was pointing to see two gummi ships streaking down, lasers blasting.  The one leading the charge, he would know anywhere.

As the ships banked into a sharp turn, figures began emerging from them – a trio of corvids flying in sync, spiraling down to the ground below, another pair in black making a risky, flightless jump and plummeting into the fight, a final set flying high above, slowly arcing their way towards Sora.

As they approached, Sora began to recognize them.

“Donald, Goofy!” Sora called, rushing forward, pulling them into a tight hug, “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Goofy said, mussing Sora’s spikes, “When that there Kingdom Hearts appeared in the sky, along with the other worlds, we thought maybe something had gone wrong.”

Donald nodded imperiously, “We knew you needed help, so we decided to round up all your friends.”

“But, what about the World Order?” Sora wondered.

“Pah! Forget the World Order,” Donald blustered.  “What does it matter when there might not be a world soon?”

“It also doesn’t mean much when the worlds are all hanging in the sky, right where they can see each other,” Goofy teased.

“Well, that covers that,” Hitoshi said, standing on the edge and peering out at the battle below, “Naminé and I can make sure any that escape that army don’t interrupt Riku.  So, Sora.  Looks like you’ve got a job to do.”

“Right!”

He turned heading towards the door – pausing when footsteps followed behind him.  Peering over his shoulder, he found Donald and Goofy on his heel.

“Guys?” he asked.

“What?  You didn’t think we’d leave you to fight alone?” Donald asked.

“Just like old times,” Goofy added, placing his hand out, Donald quickly stacking his hand on the pile, “All for one...”

Heart aching and over-full with affection, Sora placed his hand on top, grinning to fight back the tears.

“And one for all!”

Sending one last wave of affection and determination to his Flightmates, locking eyes with Riku once more time, Sora plunged through the door.

Sora stepped onto a moonlit beach.  The wind whispered over the trees in the center of the island, a soft counterpoint to the waves lapping gently against the shore.  Across the water, Kingdom Hearts hung big and bright against a velvet, starless sky.

Destiny Islands.

The nostalgia hit hard, and he reached with his heart for Riku and Kairi.  Instead, he hit some sort of barrier; he could feel their tether, still connecting him, but it was like they were shut off in another room, their presence but a distant murmur.

Swallowing down his unease, he took a deep breath, letting his wings bloom from his breath, stretch; they’d already given him everything he needed.

They had their part to play; it was time for him to play his.

There was a silhouette, standing at the edge of the water, χ-blade in hand.  Sora approached slowly, Donald and Goofy silent behind him, until he stood side-by-side with Xehanort, staring out at the waves.  For just a moment, if he only looked through the corner of his eyes, it was as if a young boy was standing next to him, gazing longingly at the open horizon.

The familiarity hurt.

Then Xehanort sighed, head tipping back, and the illusion broke.

“How strange, that at the end of all things, I would come back to this place.  And yet, how fitting.”

“Is it really that surprising, that you would go home at the end?’ Sora wondered.

“Home?” Xehanort scoffed, “This place was a prison.  My destiny was always to leave it behind.  And now, after all these decades, I am on the cusp of achieving my dreams.”

Sora took in a deep breath.

“I can’t let you go through with this.  I’m going to stop you.”

“Hm,” Xehanort ducked his head with a chuckle, turning to pace away, “You, and what weapon?  In forming your χ-blade, you forfeited your Key to the Kingdom – the only thing that made you special.”

....ah.

Sora paused, reaching for the power in his heart, stomach swooping.  The first thing he found was the blazing beacon of his χ-blade, Riku’s presence tangled up in it.  It sparkled, familiar and wonderful, but distant.  Disconnected.  It was his, but it wasn’t a part of himself – there was something about it that was...

He kept looking, digging into the shadows, and there it was – another light, smaller but warm, as familiar as his own hand.  He touched it, and his chest lit up, and he could feel it with every breath.

The same energy that had brought him this far – the star that had sparked in his chest all that time ago, desperate and alone in Hallow Bastion – still with him, even when the Kingdom Key was gone.

He held a hand out, and Light answered.  It spilled from his palm, dancing through the air till it filled the vague outline of a Key, stray Sparks curling in little arcs around it.  It shimmered through his veins, steady even as it laughed in anticipation – who will we be next?

Anything.  Everything.  A thousand possible futures, a thousand possible shapes, waiting for him to settle.  To choose.

Xehanort sneered at the formless Light.

“You think you can face me with an unforged Key?”

“I think I’m going to try,” Sora answered.

“And besides – he's not alone!” Goofy said, stepping up beside him.

“Yeah!” Donald added, “We’re here, too – there's three of us, and only one of you!”

“Well, then.  I’d say that makes it about even.”

And with a wide, wicked grin, Xehanort attacked.

The fight wasn’t going well.

The Light – his Light, the star in his heart that supported his Key – wanted to help so bad, gave Sora everything it had, but -

Without a settled form, it could only do so much.

They were flagging, all of them.  Donald stumbled, wavered; Xehanort moved in to take advantage; Goofy guarded, a last-minute maneuver, but the force of the blow sent his shield flying back; Xehanort wound back to follow up.

Sora caught the blow with his weapon, and the Light shattered.

“Well,” Xehanort said, “I did warn you.”

Things went quickly, after that. 

Sora tried to evade until he could spark the Light again – but he didn’t have Ventus’ speed.

Sora tried to break through Xehanort’s guard, to find a way to fight with just his own body – but he didn’t have Xion’s martial grace.

Sora tried to call on his magic, to fight from a distance – but he didn’t have Roxas’ deft manipulation of spells.

A storm whipped up around them, and Destiny Islands began to crumble.  Still, Xehanort advanced. 

First Donald was knocked away, then Goofy, chasms opening up between them, the wild winds whipping away the ground they stood on, so it was just Sora and Xehanort left in the heart of it all.  Darkness swirled around Kingdom Hearts, turning and turning, growing all encompassing, eating away at the edges of the world, pulling it away like gravity, consuming more and more of the land left behind.

Still, Xehanort advanced.

Sora retreated, step by step – until he felt the ground give beneath his heels.  Where could he go?  He spread his wings, looking to the sky – Xehanort's wings bristled behind him threateningly, the winds howling louder around him.

This can’t be the end.

Above, Kingdom Hearts shone bright.

Please!  Someone, anyone, I need help!

“This is the end,” Xehanort said, raising the χ-blade high, “You have no weapon, and no allies – utterly alone and useless.”

Sora breathed, and knew the lie for what it was.

Maybe none of them could reach him here – maybe even those who came into fight with him couldn’t keep up.  But he had every memory and every lesson they’d ever taught him engraved in his heart, carrying him through.  No matter what happened next, nothing could erase that.

“I’m never alone.”

Light.

Kingdom Hearts flared, and a hundred stars burst to light in Answer around Sora.  They floated out of his pockets, circling around him like little moons – Keychains, flashing in the light, every memory of every world he’d ever visited.

Faster and faster they whirled, soaking in the Light shining down on them, condensing closer and closer till all their lights merged and then – in one last flash, they burst out –

In their wake they left a gleaming, glittering Key: three thin steel prongs rising from where they wrapped around the heart-shaped decoration in the hilt, glowing red filigree wrapping through the blades until they met the elegant silver curves and points of the teeth, containing their own matching heart in the design.

Sora, a hundred voices whispered, their faith and hope flooding his heart, We’re here.

Breathless, Sora reached out, taking their love in his hands.  With this, he had a chance.

With this, he could fight.

When everything stopped shaking and the movement of the lifeboats reduced to gentle rocking, when a dim light could be seen through the small windows on the door, when they opened the pods and pulled themselves out, the world remained.  It was damaged, perhaps beyond repair – the cracked earth was scattered into crumbling chunks, floating in the water and the sky, interspersed between scattered, ruptured hills of white ruins – but it remained.

Terra sucked in a sharp breath.

“Terra?” Aqua asked.

“Sorry, it’s just – doesn't it look a bit like home?”

Ventus hummed thoughtfully, “I guess, if you squint.  Do you think the Land of Departure was a part of a land like that, once?”

“But, how did it get like that?” Mickey wondered

“Probably something just like this,” Aqua said, “Look.”

She pointed, and they all looked out, past the broken landscape to the figures moving between it all: thousands of heartless, and hundreds of people, all working together to fight them.

“The people from all the worlds,” Xion breathed, “They’re all here, fighting.”

“Well, we better go and help,” Axel sighed, “Fighting a battle like this without a Keyblade isn’t much fun – trust me, I was in their position very recently."

“Considering I took my Keyblade back, I think you’re in that position again now,” Roxas observed.

“Enough talking,” Aqua said, spreading her wings, “It’s time to fight.”

One after the other, they took off after her, weapons flashing into their hands as they streamed into the battle like shooting stars.

They separated quickly, separating naturally into groups, with Mickey flitting off on his own.

“Jeez, these guys are never-ending,” Axel groused, “At this point it’s a battle of attrition, and I don’t know how long we can keep this up.”

“Sora said he had a plan,” Roxas insisted, gesturing out and dropping an Aerora in the middle of the swarm, Xion darting in to cut through the gathered heartless, “We just have to trust him.”

“Well, hopefully Sora hurries up.”

A blast of magic barreled through a row of heartless like bowling pins, a floating blue man bouncing in excitedly.

“Well, hey, you guys know Sora, too? How fun, so do – “ he cut off abruptly, pointing down at them with a dramatic gasp, “Disappearing guy?!  And his disappearing friend?!”

Roxas turned, waving sheepishly at Genie, who stared with his jaw dropped, pointing back and forth between Roxas and Xion.

“Genie, you know these guys?” Aladdin asked, swooping in on the flying carpet.

“I do!” Genie exclaimed, turning abruptly in the air, fireworks popping in the air around him and – not so coincidentally – taking out some of the encroaching heartless, “I’ve met him twice!  The first time that carpet ran off and insisted he was our friend, and the second!  Well, the second he gave the advice that led to me coming to talk to you and Jasmine.”

“Hey, Roxas,” Axel muttered, watching the desert-world residents drift off into their own conversation, “You know the point was to not be seen while on missions, right?”

“I tried,” Roxas sighed, “It just... never worked out.”

“How many other people did you meet?”

“Well, you remember the fairy lady on that water world,” Roxas said, pausing in his attack to point up at the giant pirate ship flying through the sky, “And then... oh, there was the world with all the competitions.”

He pointed up towards one of the gleaming worlds above, where the glowing, toga-wearing warriors were streaming from, “That one.  Actually, the guy there told me to visit again, but... I guess I never did.”

“You’ll have to introduce us when this was all over,” Xion said, “Now both of you stop lazing about and come help me!”

“Right!”

“Sorry, Xion!”

“Wait, Ventus?”

Ventus stumbled to a stop, turning at the call of his name.

“Ventus, watch out!” Aqua said, darting in to cut down a heartless trying to take advantage of his distraction, “Pay attention!  This is no time for distraction.”

“Sorry!  But someone was calling me.”

They both looked to the side, meeting the startled eyes of Hercules, staring at them from across the field.  Shaking his head, he leaped from the back of the Pegasus he was riding, hefting his shield to smash his way towards them.

“Wow, I can’t believe it’s you!  It’s been 10 years and you – you haven’t aged a day!” Shaking his head, he turned his head to Aqua, “And we’ve met too, haven’t we?  What was the name?”

“Aqua,” she answered, “We did meet, briefly.”

Hercules laughed breathlessly, “You all disappeared so quickly – we never knew what happened to you.  What a place to run into you again!”

Ventus chuckled, scrubbing a hand through his hair with a sheepish grin, “Yeah, well - “

“Hey!  Are you guys talking, or fighting?” Terra called.

“Sorry!  Wait for me!” Ventus called back, quickly darting after him, cutting through heartless as he went.

“It was good to see you again,” Aqua said, “But I need to join my Flight.”

“Right - right!  We’ve got a fight to win – we can catch up afterwords?”

“Yeah.  Good luck,” Aqua said, turning to fly off after Ventus.

“Good luck!” Hercules called after her.

She soared above the battle, cutting through the flying monsters that filled the sky, keeping an eye on her boys dancing through the chaos below.  And it wasn’t just them – all across the battlefield, fighters from all worlds were joining in, holding off wave after wave of monsters.

It was funny.  They’d always dreamed of being Keyblade Masters – her, and Terra, and Ven – going out and saving the world.  But in the end, it didn’t come down to them at all.  They were just one part of the bigger picture, and not even the most important one.

Still... that was no reason to slack off.

Tucking her wings in, she let herself spiral down towards the ground below, landing in a Grand splash of magic that rippled out through the heartless, clearing several feet around her.  Springing to her feet, she sent her Flightmates a bright grin.

“Keep up, you two!”

Beyond Kingdom Hearts, at the end of all worlds, Sora and Xehanort clashed.

Blow after blow, their strength, their power, their will was pitted against each other, until, by some unseen cue, they leapt apart, each bringing up their Key, unleashing a beam of pure, unbridled energy.  The two streams met in the middle, conflicting powers fighting to overcome one another.

Slowly, Sora began to slide back.

“Sora!”

Two pairs of hands caught him, warm on his shoulder.  Donald, Goofy – he hadn’t seen them appear through the mists, but here they were, steadying him, adding their strength to his own.  It spilled into his heart, flooded through his veins, wound around his hands, his key, tri-powered magic building and building until nothing could stand before it.

Xehanort faltered.

In the aftermath, he kneeled, leaning heavily on his χ-blade where it pierced into the ground trying desperately to stand.

“Why – how?”

“It’s over now – you lost!”

“No,” Xehanort growled, “I won’t accept defeat.  Not this time.  Kingdom Hearts….”

He stretched his hand out to the great Light above; Kingdom Hearts shone down impassively.

Sora shook his head, “What are you even trying to accomplish?  What do you think is going to happen?”

“A purge,” Xehanort answered, “The world will be returned whence it started.  The world began in Darkness, and from that Darkness came Light.  From the Light came the people, and the people had hearts.  Evil burgeoned in those hearts, begetting more Darkness.  And that Darkness moved across the world like a plague.  The Light, the symbol of the world’s hopes, was devoured by shadow.  Leaving nothing but ruin – an utter failure.”

“You really think that?”

“Can you deny it?  You’ve seen it, the corruption, creeping through every world, every heart.  It consumes even this best - I won’t let it happen again.”

“So your answer is to destroy everything?” Sora protested.

“Such a world doesn’t deserve to exist.  The first Light – the Light of Kingdom Hearts – it can give us a new start.  An empty world, pure and bright.”

“…that’s not your decision to make.”

“Then whose was it?” Xehanort asked, though he did not wait for an answer, “We are stuck in an eternal cycle, that will only continue to pollute the world.  Someone has to stop it – to stand up and dictate a new destiny.”

“Even if that’s right… it isn’t you.  Destiny is beyond anyone’s control.  If there’s someone to lead us into a new world… they have to accept that.”

Xehanort’s face twisted – a strange mix of frustration, disgust, and resignation.

He laughed, low and bitter, “You… make me think of an old friend.  So, tell me.  What is your answer?”

“I don’t have one,” Sora answered.

“Hah.  And you think to criticize me?  Your naivety – “

“But!” Sora interrupted, “I don’t need one, not really.  Whatever future there is, it has to be one that everyone makes together.  All I can do is my part.  And maybe we’ll falter.  Maybe it will hurt.  But I won’t look away.  I’ll face it, as many times as it takes.”

Their gazes met, silent in a standoff at the heart of all worlds, Kingdom Hearts standing in judgement.

Finally, Xehanort sighed, head dipping with the weight of it.

“Fine, then.  I concede.  The future is in your hands… Master Sora.”

Staggering to his feet, he pulled the χ-blade from the earth, offering it out, hilt first.  Sora approached hesitantly, but the man didn’t move, simply tilting the weapon further in offering.

The moment the χ-blade changed hands, Kingdom Hearts lit up, beams of light falling down on Xehanort, piercing through him, fading him like a ghost until his body grew too thin to contain his heart.  Free from its confines, it rose, joining the source of all hearts once more.

In the distance, a deep, sonorous bell began to ring.

“Do you hear that?” Sora asked.

“Yeah, but – where’s it coming from?” Goofy wondered.

“Who cares about that?” Donald snapped, “We gotta find a way out of here!”

“Right, we – “ Sora cut off as the ground beneath them rumbled.  The small, floating remnant of the world beneath them shook, then stretched, the three of them being rapidly rocketed apart.

“Sora!”

“Donald!  Goofy!”

Sora raced after them, but the land moved faster beneath his feet.  He took to the skies, but they were lost to the mists, the storm having faded to a fog that closed in when he wasn’t looking.

Soon, he was alone.  Just him, the Darkness, and Kingdom Hearts above.

“Donald?  Goofy?” he called once more, but his words were swept away in the stillness.  Instead, there was a hum, something below his hearing that he could feel in his bones.

Come closer, it whispered, Come here.

Come home.

Heart in his throat, he reached for his bonds.  The gossamer threads still slipped through his fingers, the connection strained and stretched, nothing but a low murmur.  But Riku and Kairi were there, their lights steady in the distance.

Yes.  It was time to find his way home.

Tipping one wing down, he circled towards Kingdom Hearts till he could alight on the nothingness before it.  The Light loomed above him, enormous, taking up his whole vision while the Darkness pressed in close behind.

And yet it was so cold.

Welcome, bearer of the Key, a voice whispered, light and silvery, winding its way into his lungs, Long have we waited for you.  Fate and Our power are in your hands.

Sora swallowed.

“I’m not Xehanort.  I don’t want to destroy everything.”

Our power is not limited to the unmaking of worlds, no matter what the Fallen thinks.  Just as We can destroy, so We can create.  You do not need to start anew to shape the world you desire: all of time and space are in your hands.

What did the Dream-Eater say, before – that it was not only space that was bending?

“You mean… I could change it all?  Keep the heartless from ever attacking?

Yes.

Power settled on him like weights, like a predator’s gaze.

What will you choose, O Child of My Child? That light voice shivered up his spine, Will you take My power, and heal the world?  Put everything back as it should be and undo it all – the hurting and the bleeding and the ripping apart?

Destiny Islands, whole and hale – to never be separated from his Flight, to never let the storm consume Riku.  Or even further back – to change whatever fate caused Ven to seek refuge in his heart, to keep Aqua from ever getting lost.

To keep Xehanort from ever starting down his Dark path.

“No,” Sora said, low and slow but sure, “No, that’s not my choice.”

Then you choose to create the world anew? Another voice asked, deep and smooth, rippling from the nothing around him to vibrate through his bones, You who are beloved by the Child of My Child, you would wipe clean this destruction, and craft a more perfect world?

“No, that’s not it either.”

The air quivered, the Darkness curling curiously around the Light as cold beams shimmered across Sora’s face.

Then, what path do you take?

“I just… want to go home.  Just as it is.”

You would leave things as they are? The Light asked, soft and tender and condemning, All those who have died, who have suffered from schemes and tricks and invasions.  You have all Our power to save them, and you would do nothing?

“Everything that has happened… it’s been awful,” Sora said.  “And we’ve hurt.  But, we’ve also learned from it.  We wouldn’t be who we are, if we’d walked a different path.  Who am I to make that kind of choice for them?”

But what about the Darkness?The Dark hissed, suddenly tight around his chest, his throat, All the Heartless that have been unleashed in the world, that have been created through the arrogance of mortals?  They will still be there, and they will always be a threat.

“Maybe,” Sora answered, “But no matter what we do, the Darkness will always be there.  I’ve got that feeling that even if I undid it all, or made a new world… the Darkness would appear always, even if it was in a different form.”

The Dark uncurled from his shoulders, pooling up in the Light’s shadow, streaming off it like a cape.

“All this time, we haven’t been fighting for a new world, or to undo all his harm,” Sora explained, “We just… wanted a future together.  So we fought the people trying to take it from us.  That’s all.  No matter what happens next, as long as we can face it together, I know we’ll be alright.”

Silence held the entire world still, before it released with a sigh, weight lifting off of Sora.

We hear your conviction, Bearer of the Heart of Light, Kingdom Hearts rumbled, its laughter skipping across his skin, Though, perhaps one who has bent time should not speak of calmly accepting the future.

Light beaded up along its surface like a drop of dew, growing until it fell under its own weight, dropping into the nothingness below.  It splashed when it landed, the droplets multiplying and spreading before lifting back into the air, curling and shaping itself into a filigreed door.

Go forth, Beloved child.  Open Your Door, and let Us sleep once more.

Your future is waiting.

Like the light of the moon eclipsed by the rising of the sun, Kingdom Hearts faded.

The Darkness faded first, the corona of shadows dripping Heartless into the world below slowly petering out.  Then, the storm that heralded Kingdom Heart’s emergence calmed, the cloud barrier concealing the monolith once more.  Finally, even the clouds themselves faded away to reveal a clear sky, the sun rising above the jagged horizon.

The night was over; the battle was theirs.

Without reinforcements, the horde of heartless finally began to thin.  Eventually, they began to flee of their own will, popping away or merging into the shadows.  They would emerge another day, just as they had always done, but for now – for now!  Across the battlefield, cheers erupted, a hundred voices screaming their victory together.

High above, a door shimmered into existence, letting a young hero flutter into the sky.

Below, two heads snapped towards this emergence with unerring precision, quickly disengaging from the companions around them, spreading their wings and taking off.

They met in the sky, spiraling around each other in breathless laughter, their hearts, singing as one.

You’re here – you won!

Safe, you’re all safe.

We did it.

It’s over.  It’s over.  It’s over.

Later, they would have to face the heartless that escaped.  Later, they would have to navigate the implications of a hundred worlds hanging in each other’s skies, in reach of one another as they had not been since times long past.  Later, they would continue to unravel the consequences of their predecessors’ decisions.

But for now, it was time for reunions.

They Keyblade wielders and their friends all drifted together again, introductions that were missed in the chaos of Before finally being made.

“What now?” Riku asked, his arm a warm pressure where it pressed against Sora’s left, “We’ve been fighting for so long, I’m kind of at a loss.”

Kairi tipped her head into Sora’s shoulder, so close he could almost feel her the vibrations of her voice as she answered, “I guess... now we all go home.”

Sora watched as the other’s mingled – Ventus and Roxas dancing carefully around each other as they explained what they knew of their situation to a bemused Terra, Aqua studiously ignoring the way Xion watched her with curiosity, Axel constantly picking and teasing at his Flightmates, never going without touching them for long.

“I think," Sora said, “Maybe we’re all already there.”

Sora was born into a world where your heart had wings.

It didn’t always make things better, but in the end?

It was enough to lead him home.

[embroidery-pro]

All about sewing tools

Sewing Tools for Professional Results As with any profession or hobby, using the right tools can make all the difference in the world and can make the difference between amateur or professional results. Even if you’ve only sewn a few projects and collected some basic sewing tools, it may be time to learn about some of the advanced sewing tools designed to give your project that professional edge. Most sewing projects can be completed without the following tools, but as you improve and fine-tune your skills and develop an affinity for quilting, home decorating or clothing construction, you’ll find these tools indispensable for saving time, increasing accuracy and simplifying tasks Cutting Tools Needlework Scissors and Snips Small, 3"- to 5"-long needlework scissors or snips are indispensable for clipping close to the stitching line or trimming intricate areas of a project. They can be used wherever your large bent-handled shears can’t reach. Snips have spring-loaded handles. Keep a pair alongside the sewing machine, at-theready to cut stray threads. Rotary Cutter Used with a self-healing mat and a clear plastic ruler, rotary cutters are ideal for straight cuts in one or more fabric layers. Look for blades that can be easily removed and replaced and a handle that is comfortable. Rotary mats and rulers are made specifically for rotary-blade cutting, and the materials don’t dull rotary blades as other products might. Both the mat and the ruler feature gridlines and angles for cutting accuracy. See more about: rotary cutters Measuring & Altering Tools Grid Board Use a large grid board under the fabric and pattern to align the fabric grain while pinning and cutting. A padded grid board allows you to pin into it when stretching or blocking fabric. Some have ironing surfaces that are also helpful for fusing large fabric sections. Consider a rotating grid board if your space is limited. Mats and wide rulers used for rotary cutting are actually modified grid boards used both underneath and on top of the fabric. See “Rotary Cutter” above. French Curve or Fashion Ruler These rulers have a variety of curves to mimic the body’s curves and are used when altering patterns. It’s helpful for the simplest length adjustment and indispensable when actually changing the style of a garment. Depending on how you turn the ruler and what segment you use, one ruler gives you all the curves necessary to complete pattern lines when altering or drafting patterns. Marking Tools FabricMarking Pens The space-age chemicals used to make these clever pens become more high-tech every day. The disappearing ink allows you to mark most projects at the exact location needed—even on the fabric right side— without fear of staining or discoloration. Look for an ink color that is in high contrast to your fabric, and for accuracy select a fine tip. Choose a water-soluble pen for long-term projects, when you want the markings to remain until you remove them with water. Air-soluble pen inks disappear within a few hours and are ideal for fabrics that can’t be washed or dampened. Some air- and water-soluble pen manufacturers caution against exposing marked fabrics to sunlight or the heat of the iron because heat may set the ink permanently. Always test the pen on a scrap of the fabric before using it on your project. Pressing Tools Tailor’s Ham Resembling a ham, this pressing tool is used as a base or a mold when pressing curved or shaped seams. It’s available in several sizes and should be covered on one side in cotton and the other in wool. The ham’s curves are designed to mimic garment curves and are used to set the shape of collars, lapels, sleeve caps and more. Point Presser & Pounding Block The raised points of this wooden tool allow you to press deep into a corner without creasing the surrounding fabric. The base is used as a pounding block, or clapper, to flatten seams. Needle Board A flat, flexible board with a bed of short needles placed very close together, a velvet board or needle board is used for pressing napped fabrics, such as velvet and corduroy, without crushing the fabric’s pile. A lessexpensive, and less-effective, version of a needle board features a canvas backed fabric with a raised pile front that takes the place of the needles. Sewing Tools SewingMachine Needles Sewing needles are designed for the type of fabric, thread and stitches you’re using. Using the right size and type of needle will greatly improve your sewing success. For more information on choosing the best needle for your project . Tip: A stitching problem, such as skipped stitches or looping or shredding threads, at firstmay appear to be a problemwith themachine when actually it’s a call for a new or better-suited needle. Bodkin Used for drawing elastic, cord or ribbon through a fabric casing, bodkins are available in several different styles. The pincer is usually the shortest with teeth at one end designed to clamp down firmly on ribbon or elastic and pull it through a tubular casing. Longer versions have a safety pin style closure at one end, and the slimmest version, designed like a large sewing needle, has a large eye for feeding narrow cord in narrow casings. A bodkin’s ball-point end comes in handy for turning fabric tubes right side out. Point Turner A point turner is a hand-held, pointed plastic tool designed to poke into tight corners. For crisp, sharp corners and points, use this tool to push out the corners of collars and cuffs before pressing. The opposite end is flat or rounded; use it to hold open seam allowances while pressing, so you don’t burn your fingers.Basting Tape Much faster than hand basting with needle and thread, use narrow, paper backed basting tape to hold zippers, bias tapes and trims in place while stitching. Fray Preventer A drop of this liquid on the cut edge of a woven fabric will bond the edges and prevent the fabric from raveling. Before using, test the product on a scrap of the actual fabric, or in an inconspicuous area of the project. Allow the test piece to dry thoroughly. Then wash, dry and press it as you would the finished project, to be sure the product doesn’t discolor the fabric. Read the full article

[marykevinusa]

Blue Huntsman Knife: A Stylish and Functional Tool for Outdoor Enthusiasts

For individuals who value both style and utility in their outdoor equipment, the blue huntsman knife is a superb instrument. This knife is a favorite among hunters, campers, and survivalists because of its eye-catching blue handle and powerful blade. The blue huntsman knife is a required tool whether you're tracking animals, trekking, or simply exploring the great outdoors.

What is a Blue Huntsman Knife?

A blue huntsman knife is a type of traditional hunting knife that is mostly identified by its characteristic blue handle. The handle is frequently constructed from sturdy materials like wood, plastic, or composite materials that are intended to survive challenging outdoor circumstances, even though the blade might be produced from a variety of premium steel kinds. The knife's blue handle, which is frequently vivid and striking, gives it a distinctive visual appeal that sets it apart from more conventional designs.

Usually, the blue huntsman knife has a full tang blade, which adds strength and longevity by extending the blade all the way along the handle. This design guarantees the knife's ability to do challenging jobs like skinning wildlife, slicing through rope, or carrying out various outdoor chores with ease.

Features of the Blue Huntsman Knife

The blue huntsman knife is a dependable and efficient outdoor equipment because of its many important characteristics. These characteristics make this knife both useful and aesthetically pleasing by fusing durability, style, and usefulness.

Superior Blade: Stainless steel or high-carbon steel are typically used to make the blue huntsman knife's blade. Both materials have a reputation for being strong, resilient, and able to maintain a sharp edge. The blade is frequently made with a drop point or clip point shape, which makes it adaptable to a variety of uses, including skinning, slicing, and cutting. Hunters can effectively prepare their catch or carry out other essential duties in the woods because of the blade's sharpness.

Ergonomic Handle: One of the blue huntsman knife's most distinctive features is its handle. Its distinctive blue hue makes it simple to identify on the ground or in your equipment. The handle is not only aesthetically pleasing but also ergonomically built to fit comfortably in your hand and offer a sturdy and stable grip. Many blue huntsman knives have rubberized coatings or textured materials to keep them from slipping, especially in slick or rainy environments.

Adaptable Blade Shapes: The blade of a blue huntsman knife usually has a drop point or clip point, among other adaptable shapes. From heavy-duty chores to precise cuts, these blade designs are ideal for a range of applications. While the clip point is excellent for jobs requiring greater detail and accuracy, including carving or slicing through smaller materials, the drop point blade is best for skinning animals and making precise cuts.

Sturdy Sheath: Without a dependable sheath, a decent hunting knife is incomplete. The blue huntsman knife usually comes with a strong leather or nylon sheath for convenient and secure carrying. When the knife is not in use, the sheath shields the blade from the weather and keeps mishaps at bay. Additionally, a lot of sheaths have belt loops or clips that make it easy to attach them to your equipment and guarantee prompt access when you need them.

Uses of the Blue Huntsman Knife

A multipurpose instrument, the blue huntsman knife can be employed in a range of outdoor settings. This knife can easily perform a variety of chores, whether you're hunting, camping, or trekking. The following are some of the most typical applications for the blue huntsman knife:

Hunting: The primary purpose of the blue huntsman knife is hunting. It is ideal for field dressing and skinning game because of its sturdy, sharp blade. This knife is perfect for processing your catch, whether you're hunting deer or small game like rabbits. The ergonomic handle guarantees a firm grip even in difficult situations, and the multipurpose blade may be used to make precise cuts.

Camping: A range of equipment is needed while camping in order to cook, set up camp, and stay safe. With its sharp blade suitable for chores like firewood cutting, food preparation, and shelter setup, the blue huntsman knife is a dependable partner for outdoor excursions. Even with frequent use, the knife will stay intact thanks to its full tang construction.

Emergency and Survival scenarios: Having the appropriate equipment can be crucial in emergency scenarios. An excellent emergency item to have on hand is the blue huntsman knife. To make cover or fire kindling, its sharp blade can cut through rope, cloth, or even tiny branches. The knife can also be used to cut wood for tools, make traps, or signal for help if needed.

General Outdoor Tasks: The blue huntsman knife is a useful tool for common outdoor jobs, whether you're trekking, fishing, or exploring the wilderness. It can be utilized for everyday cutting tasks while on a trip, cutting through thick brush, and opening parcels. It is convenient to carry and access anytime you need it due to its small size and portability.

A Must-Have for Outdoor Enthusiasts

Anybody who spends time in the great outdoors needs to have the blue huntsman knife. It is the ideal companion for hunters, campers, hikers, and survivalists due to its unique blend of design, functionality, and durability. The blue huntsman knife's sturdy build, ergonomic grip, and sharp blade allow it to endure the demands of outdoor activities while still offering exceptional performance when needed most. This knife will help you on every expedition, whether you're processing games, cooking, or doing other activities.

[clementefuoco]

“If only I hadn’t been making a desperate attempt at playing the normal girl when we were dating,” Serafina drawled, every word dipped in smoke and deflection, “I might’ve figured your fantasies leaned a little darker. Shame.” She shrugged, the motion fluid and almost dismissive. Then came the grin. Slow, deliberate. Beautifully polished but little warmth. “Using you for target practice might save me a pretty hefty therapy bill. New York rates are no joke, Day.” She tilted her head, eyes glittering like lit fuse wire. “I’ll have my assistant give you a call if I ever change my mind.” And yet, even as she said it, her voice lacked the venom it once held with ease.

It was hard to stay angry when he was just… himself. That easy, grounded presence she remembered. There was little heat in her words as the conversation continued, not anymore. Just the practiced ease of someone who knew how to wield her tongue like a blade. She wasn’t trying to hurt him—just keep her footing. Especially when he talked about his daughter. A small twist of something flickered in her chest, but it was faint, passing, easy to dismiss. She didn’t carry a grudge against a child, especially not when she saw the softness it carved into his voice. It wasn’t shocking that Damian had stepped into the role with that same silent confidence he used to throw around like a second skin. “It’s funny,” she said, this time quieter. “I always knew you were good at a lot of things… but a kindergarten teacher?” The laugh that followed was dry. “I guess even you have your hidden talents.”

She might’ve said more, might’ve drawn out another jab or two, but the room shifted. The room plunged into darkness. Unease crawled under her skin. Just as Damian’s arm came around her waist, firm and steady, his words cut short by the deafening crack of gunfire.

“Fuck.” It all came apart at the seams Screams rose. Glass shattered. People either ducked or bolted like deer in headlights. Damian’s arm had already been around her, and the moment the sound echoed she could feel his strong hand encircling her waist and pull her to the ground. She didn’t fight it, instead curled his body into him to brace for the landing. His frame shielding hers as they hit the floor. Except the floor was no longer only marble. It was jagged edges and broken glass and sharp pain blooming across her right side.

The sting of glass biting into her skin made her breath catch in her throat. Splintered shards sliced into her shoulder and forearm, heat flooding her nerves in violent bursts. Pain bloomed fast, jagged and raw. She curled slightly, body taut with the instinct to protect itself, she didn’t cry out. Her jaw clenched, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth, swallowing any sound before it could escape. She would not scream. She would not give them, whoever they were, the satisfaction nor put them both in any more danger.

Damian hovered above her, his voice low and seemingly laced with worry. "Fi... Fi, are you okay?" Her eyes flicked to his in the darkness, chest rising and falling a beat too fast as adrenaline surged. Her lips parted in a sharp breath, teeth clenching as she fought back a grimace. She could feel the glass digging in deeper the more she moved. Blood was already seeping through the fabric. “Yes…” she started, then faltered, trying to push herself up slightly with an arm that stung like hell. She hissed softly. “No…” Blood trickled warm down her arm. She could feel it pooling beneath her shoulder, could feel glass shifting with every breath. “I think I’m bleeding,” she whispered, breathless, the words clipped and careful. “But I’ll live.”

Despite the tremble in her voice, she made herself search for his eyes. “Are you okay, Day?” Outside the cover of their bodies, the chaos raged on. But here, in this fragile pocket of safety, it was just him and her. Because of course he’d thrown himself over her like some martyr. Of course he’d put himself in the line of fire, when he had so much more to lose. As infuriatingly on-brand as it felt, she desperately needed to hear that he was fine.

"Hmm, sounds kinky. How did you know I was into knife play." Damian quickly snapped back at her words, he was surprised she didn't throw any of the listed at him, he sure in hell deserved it. "Well you know me, I am always here to satisfy so if you do change your mind, just let me know. I'd love to make your dreams come true." It held more of a dim borderline sarcastic tone rather then light and flirty, but the slight smirk on his face spoke for itself, he wasn't hurt by her words, he expected nothing less. Serafina de Luca was not a women to stand down. She gave you what she thought you deserved and never held back.

The tribute played in the background but Ian payed no attention to it, he never cared for the man they called mayor, he was shit and everyone knew it. Damian knew Sophia might be a sore topic but he wasn't going to lie about his trip. Since the affair, Ian locked down and really focused on himself and his family, mainly Sophia. "She was already able to name all of those, she's a smart kid. We are working on cars now, but the home schooling was mainly the normal stuff, math, reading, and shit, you know, normal kindergarten stuff."

"Not many share my view point. I also feel like the best leaders are the ones who don't want it, or want power at all. They often have the best interests at heart. That's why our world is so shit, it's run by power hungry men." The blonde rolled his eyes, he was sick of this shit, all the way up to the government level. "Now that fucker, he was the worst." Damian said as he nodded over to the tv, talking about the Mayor.

It seemed like maybe Mayor DuPont was listening or something because a few beats later the screen was hijacked and a distorted voice took over. "And what's what I get for opening my mouth." Damian muttered to himself. Karma's a bitch. And when the lights blacked out, he didn't panic. He knew his people could take care of themselves. Sera gripped his arm and he found himself furrowing his brows as she stepped closer to him. Damian wrapped a protective arm around her, "No, not at all, we should mov-"

Damian's words were cut off by the deafening sound of gunshots. "Fuck." Damian cursed as he grabbed around Serafina's smaller frame and pulled her to the ground. He shielded her with his body as he listened for more gunshots but none seemed to come. "Fi... Fi, are you okay?"

[certainrebelarbiter]

Aerospace 3D Printing Market Analysis 2029

The global aerospace 3D printing market size stood at USD 2.66 billion in 2021. The market is anticipated to rise from USD 2.94 billion in 2022 to USD 8.35 billion in 2029, at a 16.07% CAGR during the forecasted period. Fortune Business Insights™ has deep-dived these inputs in its latest research report, titled, “Aerospace 3D Printing Market, 2023-2029.”

According to the study, surging demand for low-weight components will drive innovations across emerging and advanced economies. For instance, carbon fiber materials and shape memory alloys have become trendier to minimize aircraft’s weight. With the need for fuel-saving gaining prominence, industry players will continue to invest in the portfolio.

COVID-19 Impact

Plunge in Aircraft Manufacturing Challenged Industry Growth

End-users strived to overcome challenges emanating from the COVID-19 pandemic, largely due to a shortage of raw materials and a dip in aircraft manufacturing. Although companies, such as Stratasys, contemplated producing medical equipment for hospitals, the customer base grappled with boosting the financial commitment. Meanwhile, robust government policies and investment in cutting-edge R&D could play a pivotal role in surmounting complexities stemming from the pandemic.

Browse For more details:

Report Coverage

The report offers a comprehensive perspective of the market size, share, revenue and volume. It has deep-dived into SWOT analysis. Quantitative and qualitative assessments have provided a holistic view of the market. The primary interviews validate assumptions, findings and the prevailing business scenarios. The report also includes secondary resources, such as annual reports, press releases, white papers and journals.

Segmentations

Material Segment to Gain Traction from Rising Demand for High strength-to-weight Ratio Materials

In terms of vertical, the market is segregated into material and printer. The material segment could account for the highest share of the global market. The growth is partly attributed to the strong demand for high strength-to-weight ratio materials.

Aircraft to Exhibit Profound Demand Due to Rising Footfall of 3D printed Parts

With respect to industry, the market is segmented into spacecraft, aircraft and UAV. The aircraft segment will contribute a significant CAGR towards the global market, partly due to the need for equipment deliveries and the demand for 3D printed parts.

Space Component to Depict Strong Demand Due to Rising Number of 3D Printer Deliveries

On the basis of application, the market is classified into space component, engine component and structural components. Stakeholders expect the space component segment to boost industry growth in the wake of a surging number of aerospace 3D printer deliveries for space components.

Fused Deposition Modeling (FDM) to be Sought-after for Efficiency

Based on the printer technology, the industry is divided into Fused Deposition Modeling (FDM), Stereolithography (SLA), Direct Metal Laser Sintering (DMLS), Continuous Liquid Interface Production (CLIP), Selective Laser Sintering (SLS) and others. The fused deposition modeling segment will grow due to increased efficiency and money-saving attributes.

Drivers and Restraints

Strong Demand for Composite Materials to Boost Industry Growth

Aerospace 3D printing market growth will be pronounced during the forecast period, largely due to bullish demand from composite materials. Expanding applications, such as wing assemblies, beech starship, propellers and helicopter rotor blades, will augur well for the industry growth. Besides, additive manufacturing will gain impetus in space applications. An upsurge in research and development activities will encourage investments in the ensuing period. Prominently, the European Space Agency (ESA) is contemplating 3D printing their base on the moon, auguring well for the industry outlook. However, increased time consumption and the high cost of parts could dent the industry growth.

Regional Insights

North America to Provide Lucrative Opportunities with Bullish Adoption of Additive Manufacturing

The trend for additive manufacturing will continue to receive traction across the U.S. and Canada over the next few years. The growth is mainly attributed to the rising demand for space exploration and aircraft programs. North America market size stood at USD 1.17 billion in 2021 and will witness a similar trend on the back of the strong adoption of aerospace 3D printers across the region.

Asia Pacific aerospace 3D printing market share will be robust against the backdrop of increased adoption of aerospace 3D printers across Japan, China and India. Moreover, leading players will continue to exhibit an exponential demand for small components in space and aircraft systems.

Industry participants expect Europe to contribute notably toward the global market in the wake of the rollout of advanced technologies across the region. Advanced economies are poised to invest in aircraft programs to boost their portfolios across untapped areas.

Competitive Landscape

Stakeholders Prioritize Strategic Approaches to Boost Penetration

Prominent players could inject funds into mergers & acquisitions, product rollouts, technological advancements and R&D activities. Besides, major companies could invest in innovations and product offerings in the ensuing period.

Notable Industry Development

March 2022 – Relativity Space Inc is gearing up to build an entire rocket using state-of-the-art 3D printing technology.

Major Players Profiled in the Market Report:

3D Systems (U.S.)

Stratasys (Israel)

Materialise (Belgium)

EOS GmbH (Germany)

General Electric Company (U.S.)

CleanGreen3D (Mcor Technologies Limited) (U.S.)

Ultimaker BV (Netherlands)

Proto Labs, Inc. (U.S.)

Relativity Space (U.S.)

The ExOne Company (U.S.)

Voxeljet AG (Germany)

Velo 3D (U.S.)

SLM Solutions Group AG (Germany)

EnvisionTEC (U.S.)

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