#apart from Rasputin :(

[a-damsel]

I think this has personally been the most emotionally taxing season in a bit now.

[dioxazineblur]

TFW your parents have no idea what the current situation is with wages and homelessness, so they just tell you to get more jobs

maybe i’m just a commie but i think people shouldn’t be at risk of homelessness if they’re in between jobs

[a-driftamongopenstars]

the topic of found and blood family in destiny is so very important and so very well done, i'm chewing it like a toy.

for example, let's look at the guardians. when they are born, their have neither mother nor father, only their Ghost. and as they go out into the world, they get to choose their new relations, and they commit. they establish a certain hierarchy that builds off experience and what one can offer another. but they also love and they care. many older lightbearers choose to become mentors, and eventually parental figures to other guardians. for example, the way Saladin mentors Zavala - and from the recent TFS lore, considers him his son.

but there is more! my favourite example has to be of Rasputin and Felwinter. it could so easily be a machine and its child offspring, just a program, but it's so much more than that. because Felwinter acquired true consciousness. became a Guardian, with a heart and mind of his own. and Rasputin did consider him his son before that - and after, tragically. and when Rasputin himself achieved a level of humanity and humility, he saw the wrongs he committed. he cared.

civilians, too, have this. so many families are broken apart by the violence of the Darkness - and the Guardians. and so they form familial bonds. the way Zavala adopts Hakim with Safiyah. the way Devrim adopts Suraya with Mark. how Cayde takes Amanda under his wing.

and then we turn around and we look at other factions and i lose my mind. the Osmium siblings, that's a whole topic of its own, but it's love and violence and care in a volatile mix. "i kill you to make you stronger".

the Sov twins, their power imbalance, the craving for familial love - and a rejection of it. and when one is dead and brought back, does blood still hold up?

Caiatl and Calus, where personal needs and selfishness far exceed familial love, yet it is still there and it struggles against the other fiercely.

the Bray family, the question of legacy and choices to uphold it or turn away from it.

anyway, this is a massive topic to discuss. it's so complicated and it's so compelling. and it's both at the forefront of the story but also somewhere in the background, always present and threading through the plot. chewing it like a toy, i say!

[corpsebasil]

Karma Part 3

Ghostface is her protector, but maybe more than that.

Your relationship had grown from tentative friendship leading into more, to full blown dating.

You’d never had so much fun as you did with Ethan. He liked to buy you flowers ‘just because’ which never failed to make you smile. When doing homework together he’d reach over and draw a tiny heart in your notebook, then pretend he didn’t know he’d done it. He was a terrible cook but, to your delight, he’d taken up baking rather quickly, and fumbled through the kitchen with you as you taught him the basics.

Just a few days ago you both had gotten drunk and played Just Dance. Rasputin was his go to and lord the man could move. You’d almost fell backwards onto the ground when you’d attempted the squat jump movement he easily copied, and you’d both laughed, collapsing onto the floor in a pile of giggles.

But then there were the more intimate moments.

The moments when he’d prop his head on your shoulder when you were with your friends, or when he’d hold your hand, almost constantly. And the kissing… You’d never gone farther than just that, although you wanted to. But you happily settled for the nights when he’d kiss you until you thought you’d pass out, the whispers between the two of you lost in the dark.

And the first time he told you he loved you, kissing you slowly on the couch, you felt so filled to the brim with emotion you almost embarrassed yourself by crying. You only ran your hands through his hair, murmuring the words back, and allowed him to run a hand up the bare skin of your thigh.

But then Ghostface called you.

You were in your room, playing Solitaire on your laptop, when your phone buzzed.

“Babe? That you?”

“It can be, if that’s what you want.” Ghostface teased, and you couldn’t help the slight smirk that pulled at your mouth.

“Very funny.” You told him, standing up to examine your apartment. “But I’m happily taken. If you’re here, though, maybe you can give me some knife lessons. I’d like to know how to defend myself.”

“As much fun as that would be,” the killer said, his tone amused. “I’m not there. But you need to listen to me.”

You paused, clutching the phone a bit tighter.

“What is it, Ghostie?”

“It’s—” you heard a male laugh and grinned. You didn’t want to admit it—would never admit it to anyone—but you’d found yourself waiting for him to come back. His jokes, his protectiveness…you could use that in a friend. Not that you would tell anyone that you found a serial killer worthy of friendship. “Ghostie? Really?”

You laughed and could almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“Sure, laugh away, pretty girl. I’m sure you’ll find it hilarious when I’m the one that has to save your ass once again.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled, ignoring the blush that rose on your face at his words. You had a boyfriend damnit. “So what do you want? I’m assuming this isn’t a pleasure call.”

“Gale Weathers is going to be carved up in about twenty minutes, by my guess.” He deadpanned, and you stilled. “My…cohort, if you will, is on their way. If you want to help her, like you’ve said you do, then go. I’ll meet you there.”

“Why would you help me?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve gone out of your way to save me multiple times now. Why?”

“Let’s call it an investment.” He said, and you bristled a bit. “Take it as a compliment, baby. I’m not letting you go just yet.”

“Oh please.” You scoffed, but your mind was racing back to Gale as you grabbed your purse and slid your shoes on. “I’m headed there. No fucking jump scares or I might hit you. My boyfriend’s been teaching me a bit of self defense.”

Your feet were loud on the stairs as you rushed out of the complex, headed to your car. You barely used the thing as you preferred walking, but today was an emergency.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Ghostface asked, his tone practically seductive as you drove out of the parking lot towards Gale’s place. “Ethan, is it?”

“Yes.” You purred. “How’d you know?”

“Tall, incredibly good looking? How could I not?”

You paused.

Your thoughts seemed to glitch at that response, your reply a bit too long for comfort. What in the—

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. I’m on my way I’ll—I’ll see you there.”

“Y/N, wait—”

You hung up, your breathing uneven as you glanced down momentarily at the blocked caller ID. The gears were turning in your brain, slowly, as you tried to think. There was something nagging you, something not right about Ghostface. Something familiar.

You blinked, shoving away any insane thoughts, and screeched into Gale’s parking lot minutes later.

-

You were terrified.

You’d never been so scared for your life, not when you’d been with Gale, urging the reporter to leave and call police. Not when Ghostface had thrown Gale’s boyfriend, dead, to the floor. You backed away, rushing to hide, but there was nowhere to go.

Gale was fighting—Gale was the main target here, not you. And the worst part was, you knew in your gut that this wasn’t your Ghostface. This person would gladly kill you, and would have no remorse.

You were paralyzed. Paralyzed as Gale stormed back into the living-room with a gun, her phone to her ear. You stared with wide eyes as she motioned for you to duck down behind the kitchen island, hiding yourself from sight. You felt your chest growing tight. It was just like before—just like before when you’d been cornered with nowhere else to go.

Gale hung up, putting the Ghostface on hold, of all things, and after a few seconds of tense silence you heard a phone ring. You covered your ears with your hands as shots fired, and then Gale was screaming, and you were shaking so bad you thought you might puke.

You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t want to be a coward, not now, not ever, so you stood, picking up a ceramic dinner plate and hurling it at Ghostface’s head. It slammed into them just before it could stab Gale again, and you threw another, then another. The last one missed and you ran, screaming as the Ghostface—god they were fast—chased you down.

You ran, but not fast enough, not when they slashed out at you and tore a gash through your arm. You shrieked, stumbling, and knocked a chair in their path as you searched for anywhere to hide.

And then there was only you, and the corner of the room, and no where to go.

“I’m going to enjoy this, bitch.” Ghostface snarled, flipping their knife in their hand.

You threw your hands up, as if that would stop it, when a loud cracking sound filled the space as the locked door banged open.

You knew who it was—could feel it in your gut as you saw him sprint for the person holding a knife towards you.

Ethan was Ghostface.

He was Ghostface. The one who’d been saving you this entire time. You’d wondered, absentmindedly, but knew for sure, right then, when he’d launched himself in front of the second Ghostface, tearing across the room to tackle whoever was behind the other mask.

You screamed as you cowered in the corner, watching as he and the other Ghostface rolled on the floor, he attempting to restrain them, them fighting back. They were yelling at each other, so loud you could barely make out what they were saying. But then the other Ghostface shoved him off and ran, sprinting out the door as fast as they could.

Ethan turned to you, breathing hard, the white of his mask catching the light. You moved forward, only a step; he was Ghostface. A killer. But you loved him. You loved him.

You stepped forward as your mouth wobbled, tears falling down your face as you moved to him. He was trembling, breathing hard, as you pulled his mask off and looked at him. His expression was one of agony and sorrow, shaking his head slowly at you as if to convey words he didn’t have.

He didn’t need to.

You kissed him, tugging him down to you by the black robes you’d grown used to, had grown to trust, and he let out a low, anguished noise into your mouth. Ethan was crying when you pulled away, his head dropping to your shoulder as he he clutched you to him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, squeezing you tighter when you looped your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry baby, I wanted to tell you.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” You swallowed roughly, the pain in your arm momentarily forgotten at the moment. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

“I tried to protect you. I wanted you safe I never should’ve asked you to come here—”

“Ethan, look at me.” He did, pulling his head back, and you grasped his face in your hands, resting your forehead against his own. “I love you, E. I trust you, okay? We’re gonna find a way to get you out of this—”

“Still bleeding over here.” Gale called out to you both, and you turned. You were surprised she’d survived. “As creepily touching as this is.”

“Ethan, call an ambulance.” You told him, pressing one last kiss to his mouth before whispering, “and get the Hell out of here. Fast.”

He nodded and bolted, already pulling out his phone, as you dropped beside Gale and helped put pressure on her wound.

-

The second you were cleared by the medics, a gauzy bandage wrapped around your arm, you got to your apartment as fast as you physically could. Ethan was already there, putting clothes and other objects of yours into a suitcase. You gaped at him and shut the front door, locking it behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here.” He said, still focused on his work.

“Ethan what—what are you talking about?”

“The theater,” he looked up at you, eyes slightly crazed. “It’s a trap.” He gestured to the bag. “We’ll get you on a bus or a plane or something.”

“Ethan I am not leaving you.”

“Shit, Y/N.” He cursed, standing up and crossing the room. He placed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then pulled back. “Please let me get you out. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

“And I’d rather die than see something happen to you.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, his brow furrowed as he sighed, holding you close. He ran a hand over your hair and pressed his lips your temple, and you could feel Ethan’s heart racing through the shirt he now wore.

“At least..at least put some things in my backpack. Just in case.” You could hear his uneven breathing and you slid your hands to his neck, holding him tighter. Then his chest heaved, and you felt a drop of wetness against your face. “I cant watch you die.”

“I’m not going to die. We’re both going to be fine.” You promised, and kissed him. “Ghostie.”

He held you tight as a half-hearted laugh left him, holding you so close you could feel almost every inch of him. And then he was lifting you, carrying you to your room, where he laid with you on the bed, kissing you and running his hands over your skin.

“I love you.” He murmured, lips soft on your own, and you held him tight, desperate to have him here with you for the little time you had left.

stg there’s only ONE PART LEFT BE PATIENT AND MAKE SURE TO REBLOG FOLLOW AND COMMENT for PART FOURRRR

tag list:

@pagesfalling @taetae123094 @iloveneilperry @hopefulcandywitch

@bokutoswifey

[urdreamydoodles]

Love your works!!!! And I love Mr. Pickles!!!

May I ask for headcanons if reader dies in their arms?

Asking for: Emma Frost, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, Piotr Rasputin, Beast, and Illyana Rasputin

No pressure ofc!!! Thank you!!

And have I mentioned that I fucking love your works?!?!

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You die in their arms (Part.1)

In the heat of battle, you succumbs to fatal injuries in the arms of your partner. Each X-Men, torn apart by grief, reacts to the devastating loss, facing the crushing reality that their greatest power cannot bring back the person they love most.

Characters: Emma Frost, Charles Xavier, Jean Grey, Colossus, Hank McCoy & Magik

First of all, thank you for this message, you are my first request and you have no idea how much it touches me. And secondly, your compliments make me blush, I'm glad you like my work, because personally I've never had as much fun as writing about something as this. Get ready for a LOT of headcanons because I have a lot in store. Above all, don't hesitate to ask for other requests <3 And thanks to you, you inspired me to make your request for other X-Men and X-Women. PS: MR. PICKLES WILL RETURN

Emma Frost

The battlefield was littered with chaos—explosions, screams, and the metallic scent of blood filled the air. You and Emma had been fighting alongside the X-Men, as you had countless times before, but this time was different. This battle had been brutal, and even though you had faced danger before, nothing had ever felt this dire. You had always fought by her side, both of you in sync, but as the fight raged on, you felt your strength starting to wane.

Emma’s voice was sharp and commanding in your mind, as always. “Stay with me, darling. We’re almost through this,” she had said, her mental link giving you strength. But when the blast came—one you hadn’t seen coming—it sent you flying, the pain immediate and overwhelming. You crumpled to the ground, clutching your side, feeling the warmth of your own blood seeping through your fingers.

Emma’s scream tore through the battlefield, her telepathic wail so fierce it silenced everyone for a moment. In the next second, she was at your side, her diamond form shimmering as she knelt down, her hands trembling as they reached for you. The moment her fingers touched your skin, her diamond exterior shattered, leaving her vulnerable in a way she never was on the battlefield.

"Y/N," she whispered, her voice breaking. "No, no, no... this can’t be happening."

You struggled to stay conscious, your vision blurring as you looked up at her, the love of your life, her face twisted in anguish. "I’m sorry," you choked out, each word a struggle. "I tried... I really tried."

Tears fell from her eyes, something she rarely allowed herself to do. She pressed her forehead against yours, her voice shaking. "Don’t you dare say goodbye. Not yet. I won’t let you go."

But you could feel it. The life slipping away, your heartbeat growing fainter. You reached up weakly, your hand brushing against her cheek. "Emma... I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Emma’s breath hitched as she gripped your hand, holding onto you as if her sheer willpower could keep you alive. "I love you too," she whispered back, her lips brushing your forehead. "Please... please stay."

But you couldn’t. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body growing still in her arms.

For a moment, Emma just sat there, her mind refusing to accept what had just happened. Then, with a heart-wrenching scream, she unleashed a wave of telepathic energy so powerful that it swept across the battlefield, knocking down enemies, sending shockwaves through everyone’s minds. She cradled your body, her chest heaving with sobs, her mind desperate, reaching out to you, trying to find any trace of your consciousness.

But you were gone.

And for the first time in her life, Emma Frost felt utterly, completely broken.

Charles Xavier

The fight had been relentless, and despite the X-Men’s best efforts, the battle had taken a terrible toll. You had always been the calm in Charles’ storm, the grounding presence he could rely on when the weight of leading the X-Men grew too heavy. But today, everything had gone wrong. You had been separated from the team, cornered by enemies, and though you fought bravely, you had been wounded—badly.

By the time Charles found you, the world had already started fading around the edges. He wheeled towards you with a speed and desperation you had never seen in him before. His voice echoed in your mind, trembling with fear. *"Y/N, hold on. Please, just hold on."*

You could barely open your eyes, the pain in your body making it difficult to even breathe. But you heard him, and you smiled weakly, your heart aching as you felt his mind reaching for yours, trying to steady you, trying to keep you present. "I’m sorry, Charles," you rasped, your voice so faint it barely carried over the sounds of battle. "I wasn’t strong enough."

"No," Charles said, his voice firm, though you could hear the fear beneath it. "You are strong. You’ve always been strong. Don’t leave me, Y/N. I can’t lose you."

You felt his hand grasp yours, his grip trembling. You had always marveled at how Charles carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, always keeping his emotions tightly controlled. But now, there was no control. There was only fear, and love, and desperation in his eyes.

"You were always my strength, Charles," you whispered, your hand squeezing his as best as you could. "I love you. So much."

Tears filled his eyes, his voice breaking as he spoke. "And I love you. You are everything to me."

You could feel his mind wrapping around yours, trying to hold you there, trying to stop the inevitable. He was begging, pleading with you to stay, to fight, but your body was failing. You felt the warmth of his love in your mind, a comfort even as the world started slipping away.

"Please, Y/N," Charles whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Please, don’t leave me."

But you couldn’t hold on any longer. The pain faded, the world grew silent, and your grip on his hand loosened.

Charles sat there, his hand still holding yours, as the battlefield around him seemed to blur into nothing. His heart shattered, and in that moment, all the strength and control he had maintained for years crumbled. He lowered his head, his tears falling onto your lifeless body, and he sent out a silent scream, a wave of raw emotion so powerful that it resonated across the minds of every living person on the battlefield.

Charles had lost many people in his life. But losing you felt like the end of everything.

Jean Grey

The battle had taken its toll, not just on the X-Men but on the world itself. You and Jean had fought side by side, your powers complementing each other in ways that made you an unstoppable force. But this battle had pushed you both beyond your limits. You had been caught in an explosion, your body thrown against the rubble, the pain blinding and all-consuming.

Jean was at your side in an instant, her telekinetic powers lifting the debris off you, her hands trembling as she reached for you. "No... no, no, no," she whispered, her voice cracking as she cradled your head in her lap. "Y/N, stay with me."

You could barely keep your eyes open, the world spinning as you struggled to breathe. "Jean..." you whispered, your voice so weak, so broken. "I... I don’t think I can..."

"Don’t you dare say that," Jean said, her voice fierce but laced with panic. "You’re going to be okay. I won’t let you go."

You could feel her mind reaching out to yours, wrapping around your consciousness, trying to keep you there with her. Her love flooded your mind, a warmth that soothed the pain, but you could feel your body slipping away, your strength fading.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, your hand weakly reaching for hers. "I’m so sorry."

Jean’s tears fell onto your face as she held you closer. "Don’t apologize," she said, her voice breaking. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve always been there for me. Please... just stay a little longer."

You could see the anguish in her eyes, feel the desperation in her mind as she tried to hold on to you. But the pain was too much, and your body was failing.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I love you too," Jean said, her voice shaking as she pressed her forehead against yours, her tears falling freely now. "Please... don’t leave me."

But you were slipping away, the world growing darker, quieter, as you took your last breath. Jean’s sobs echoed in your fading consciousness, her mind screaming out for you, trying to pull you back. But it was too late.

Jean held your lifeless body in her arms, her chest heaving with sobs. She let out a scream, a psychic wave that shattered the air around her, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. Her grief, her agony, her love—they all collided in that moment, her powers surging uncontrollably as she held onto you, unable to let go.

In that moment, Jean Grey—one of the most powerful beings in the universe—felt utterly powerless.

Colossus

The battle was at its peak, and the sounds of war echoed around you. Explosions rocked the battlefield as Colossus, in his full metal form, fought valiantly beside you. His towering figure was always a source of comfort, an indestructible wall between you and the chaos. The ground shook beneath your feet as you moved to join him, your heart pounding with adrenaline.

But then, an enemy blast caught you off guard, the impact throwing you off your feet. You hit the ground hard, the pain immediate and overwhelming. Blood seeped from your wounds as you struggled to breathe, your vision blurring. You tried to push yourself up, but your body refused to respond. The sound of heavy metal footsteps reached your ears, and you knew Piotr had seen you fall.

His metallic form glimmered in the firelight as he ran toward you, his eyes wide with terror. You had never seen him like this, even in the most dangerous situations. He dropped to his knees beside you, the cold steel of his hands cradling you gently despite their immense strength.

"Y/N!" His voice was thick with fear, a sound you'd never thought you'd hear from someone as powerful as him. "Please, no. Not you. Not like this."

You tried to smile, but the pain was too much. "Piotr..." you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I... I can't..."

He shook his head, his metal features twisting in agony. "Don’t speak. I’ll protect you," he promised, though the pain in his voice told you he knew there was nothing he could do. He tried to stem the flow of blood from your wound, his massive hands shaking.

His metal body was usually unyielding, but now he seemed so vulnerable, so afraid. He held you close, his cold arms pulling you against his chest. "Stay with me, please," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His entire body trembled as he struggled to maintain control.

Your hand reached up weakly to touch his face, the cool metal of his cheek sending a shiver through your fingers. "I love you," you whispered, the words catching in your throat as darkness closed in around you.

He let out a sob, his steel form shuddering with grief. "I love you more than anything, Y/N. You’re everything to me."

But it was too late. Your breath faded, and your hand slipped from his cheek, falling limply to the ground. Piotr let out a roar of anguish, his voice reverberating across the battlefield. He held your lifeless body close, his tears mingling with the blood and dirt that stained your skin. Even in his indestructible form, he felt more broken than ever before.

Magik

The battle had spiraled out of control, and you found yourself separated from the rest of the X-Men, the air thick with smoke and the sound of clashing metal. You had always admired Illyana’s ability to remain calm in the face of chaos, but this time, the situation was different. The enemies were relentless, and no matter how hard you fought, it wasn’t enough. Then, out of nowhere, a blade struck you, piercing through your side, and you collapsed to the ground.

Before you could even cry out, the world around you warped, and you found yourself in Limbo. Illyana stood before you, her eyes wide with horror as she took in the sight of your bloodied body. “No...” she whispered, her sword clattering to the ground as she rushed to your side.

You tried to speak, but the pain was overwhelming, your vision flickering in and out of focus. Illyana’s hands shook as she pressed them against your wound, trying to stop the blood that poured out of you. “I’ll fix this,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can fix this.”

You had always known that Illyana was powerful beyond measure, but in this moment, she looked small, fragile, as though she was trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. She stared down at you, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she knelt beside you, her hands glowing with the dark magic of Limbo.

“I can’t lose you,” she whispered, her voice breaking as tears filled her eyes. “Not like this.”

You reached up with what little strength you had left, your hand brushing against her cheek. “Illyana,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I love you.”

Her breath hitched as she leaned down, pressing her forehead against yours. “I love you too, more than anything,” she said, her voice shaking. “You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.”

But you could feel your life slipping away, the pain becoming numb as the darkness closed in. You wanted to stay, to hold on, but it was too late. Your hand fell limp in hers, your chest rising for the last time as your heart stopped.

Illyana let out a scream that echoed through the very fabric of Limbo, a sound so filled with grief and fury that it sent shockwaves through the demonic realm. Her magic surged uncontrollably, her power crackling through the air as she cradled your lifeless body in her arms. In her rage, the demons of Limbo cowered, the sky itself trembling in fear.

But no amount of power could bring you back, and that realization shattered her. She held onto you, her tears falling onto your skin, whispering your name over and over again as the world around her grew dark, consumed by her grief.

Hank McCoy

The battlefield had turned into a warzone of destruction, and even though you and Hank had fought together many times before, this battle was unlike any you had experienced. You had always admired how composed and intellectual Hank was, even in the most dire of situations. But this time, the enemy had been too quick, too brutal, and before you could react, you had been struck by a powerful blast.

Your body hit the ground hard, pain shooting through you as you struggled to breathe. Blood spilled from the wound in your chest, and every breath felt like a mountain weighing down on you. Through the haze of pain, you heard Hank’s voice, panicked and desperate, something you had never heard from him before.

“Y/N!” He shouted, rushing toward you, his blue fur standing on end as he dropped to his knees beside you. His large hands were gentle as he cradled your head in his lap, his eyes wide with terror as he took in the sight of your injuries. “No, no, this can’t be happening.”

You tried to smile up at him, but the pain was too much. “I’m sorry, Hank,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t... I couldn’t...”

“Shh,” he said, his voice shaking. He pressed his hand to your wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. His eyes were filled with panic, his normally calm and collected demeanor completely gone. “You’ll be alright. Just stay with me.”

You could feel the life draining from you, the world growing darker around the edges. You reached up weakly, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

Hank’s eyes filled with tears, something you had never seen from him before. “I love you too, more than you’ll ever know,” he said, his voice breaking. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his tears falling onto your face. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t... I can’t do this without you.”

You wanted to stay, to hold on, but your body was failing, your heart slowing with every passing second. You looked up at him one last time, your vision blurring as you whispered, “I’m sorry.”

And then, everything went dark.

Hank let out a strangled sob, his entire body trembling as he held you close. His mind raced, trying to think of a solution, something that could bring you back, but he knew it was too late. You were gone, and nothing could change that.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, holding your lifeless body in his arms, his tears falling freely as he whispered your name. The battlefield raged on around him, but for Hank, the world had stopped. You were gone, and with you, a part of him had died too.

[icarusredwings]

Finding home Au things that are canon (because I said so, and it's MY au so I can do whatever I want. Send me headcanons, and I'll approve them)

Gambit just got back from the void so he's just now meeting everyone. He looks a little different from how they remember since their gambit really was never a full team mate and rather then just some guy that helped Logan a couple of times. This being said hes meeting Rouge as a 35 year old linguistics teacher for a bunch of brats, flirting with her in the halls, trying to impress her all the time, etc. He wanted to have a cool class like how to use a Bo staff or tutor energy weilding kids but instead got stuck with sex ed. Because of this, he now makes a ton of jokes to Rouge about it (she's across the hall) but actually is really excited to start his cooking elective class this coming fall when he's considered a real team member.

Ororos heals click in the hall like they did when you were a kid and you could tell the principal is coming. She's almost always with a tea or a coffee, walkie talkie and keys jingling. She's very sweet but kids shit their pants if sent to Mrs. Munroes office, meanwhile Mr. Summers office is a nothing, just a lecture and a slap on the wrist. Aint no one actually scared of lasik because they know thw worst theyll get is community work for a couple of weeks but they ligit cry the second theyre sent to munroe's (especially if they know theyre guilty of a big prank or something)

The school gives out free hygiene products and depending on what you need you can special request it.

If students get too angry they are sent to Piotr's art room for art therapy. He surprisingly is very artistic and chill.

Forges shop class is working on a car with no weight limit and that can handle their heavy hitters (Colossus and Wolverine) both in the same car (most bust) as well as a car made from plastic recycling. They're working on it. Its only blown up once!!

Gambit makes breakfast for the staff and some students of they beg enough. He keeps bringing Rouge the first cup of coffee from the pot and has made her pancakes shaped like hearts multiple times. Watching her stab them and smother them make him... giggle helplessly.

Gambit🤝Watching their love intrests viscously stab and rip apart their meals with a boner wishing it was them🤝Wade

He's very respectful towards her, though and sometimes is a bit (COUGH a lot COUGH) of a kiss ass.

Hank's students have blown up the lab at least 4 times by now. One of those times was Wades fault for touching stuff he wasn't supposed to.

Kurt is very glad that Wade has taken over his Duel weaponry/swordsman class, so now he has time to start working out a pitch for a world's religion class+ sunday school. He still runs a fencing club, though.

Peter (quicksilver) has tried so many different positions, including music teacher of all different instruments. Now he just kinda lounges around in the game room and speed cleans the mansion after each day in like 2 minutes flat. Imagine being paid a full salary just for 2 minutes of work? And you get to live somewhere for free and play games all day? Fuck yeah.

Positions I've been thinking about:

Beast (Dr. Henry "Hank" McCoy) is the Vice-Principal, so he does orientation. He has multiple science classes, including biophysics, and has electives in philosophy and poetry.

Colossus (Piotr Rasputin) is an art teacher and handles art therapy

Gambit (Remy LeBeau) runs a sex-ed class and is hoping to soon get approved to run a cooking class next semester.

Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner) has a fencing elective as well as a religion class, sunday school, and sometimes helps Morph with drama/theater. (Ex duel weaponry instructor)

Rogue (Anna Marie) is a Linguistics teacher who drabbles in social science. “Diction and Linguistics, with Professor Rogue” She can teach just about any language, but russian/german/ french/ spanish and Japanese are her main ones. She's who you go to if you dont understand English and need help. Almost all foreign students have her.

Cyclops (Scott Summers) is the headmaster. He has classes in Geometry, has an elective for leadership and communications (PFFT) as well as being the schools mobility/disability specialist. He, of course, specializes more with children who have trouble with their eyesight.

Storm (Ororo Munroe) is the Headmistress. She has an Environmental Science and Political Science class as well as a multi cultural elective.

Shadowcat (Katherine "Kitty" Pryde) has a comp-sci class and runs an ethics class.

“Ethics 101: Forgetting Everything You Ever Learned From Emma Frost, with Professor Pryde.”

Wolverine (Logan Howlett) is a(n occasional hand to hand combat/ martial arts) PE instructor. (Ex History teacher)

Jubilee is the schools event organizer, event coordinator, event manager, and more broadly, event professional, the ‘hip’ school counselor. "Activities Director & Counselor"

Morph is the director of drama acting and disguises (duh)

Laura is a graduating student In training under the Wolverine (Gabby is a student and is too young to be an understudy)

Yukio graduating student In training Under Storm or Rouge (I can't decide)

Negasonic teenage warhead (Ellie) graduating student In training under Jean Grey.

Mr. Wade Wilson (Deadpool) Is in training under Colossus. Duel weaponry/ swordsman tactics class instructor (plus whatever Logan's doing, he's very nosey and WILL cause issues if bored)

Jean Grey is an english teacher, has a class on psychology, and drabbles in physics.

Ice man (Bobby) is the school financal advisor/accountant and runs a business elective class.

Forge is a Shop teacher.

Quicksilver (Peter maximoff) Janitor, housekeeping, music teacher, replaced original Logan as PE teacher for a while, target practice, teaches fast kids how to avoid running into walls, always in the game room, stock/ errand boy, gets bored super quickly, sports instructor, Read almost all the books in the library, likes swimming, mainly just lays around waiting for something fun to do, his father causes trouble sometimes which he thinks is entertaining but also hella embaressing.

I'm unfortunately left without a history teacher, so shoot me any ideas :)

[annabelle--cane]

Do you have any recommendations for vampire movies. I need to check off a list

YES okay here's a bunch I've watched and liked in the last few months:

nosferatu 1922; german, silent, black and white. every time I go to watch a silent movie I think "ugghhh this is gonna be boring" and then it rules. if you are a dracula enjoyer, this is actually a fairly faithful adaptation up until It's Not, and there are some interesting visuals and story choices to ponder.

let the right one in 2008; swedish. surprisingly tender romance between two lonely tweens intercut with lots and lots of violent murders in austere snowy winter settings.

a girl walks home alone at night 2014; iranian, black and white. less driven by plot, more by visuals and style. very slow, thoughtful, and emotionally evocative film occasionally broken up with scenes like "guy takes ecstasy at a costume party while dressed as dracula and can't get himself home so a vampire takes him back to her place by pushing him on her skateboard that she recently stole from a child." also there's a cat.

bit 2019; american. kind of falls apart in the third act but it's fun enough that I'd say it's worth a watch anyway. trans girl graduates high school, moves to LA, and falls in with a lesbian vampire girl gang, ft. an extremely good sequence set to "rasputin."

thirst 2009; korean. haven't actually finished watching this one, but it is absolutely balls to the walls. so much sex and blood and bloody sex and sexy blood and catholicism. catholic priest volunteers to participate in medical trials and gets infected with a rare blood disease, and, whoops, now he's a really horny but tortured vampire. tense as all hell, based on the french novel therese raquin.

renfield 2023; american. is this a good movie? no. is it extremely fun? yes. very much a popcorn movie with gore so excessive that it crosses beyond the pale and becomes slapstick. this renfield is a bit of a renfield / jonathan harker hybrid character, suffering under the same old vampiric abusive boss over 100 years, and he's starting to want to try and break free of dracula's thrall.

byzantium 2012; british. gorgeous visuals, lovely performances, imo the script could have used another draft but it's very watchable. two vampire women bounce around england trying to avoid capture by the vampire authorities, but the younger of the two is getting fed up with having to lie about herself to everyone and move constantly. interesting one to compare to bit, they're doing a lot of similar thing wrt gender dynamics and vampirism as power.

broad content warning, there's a lot of sex, violence, and sexual violence across this selection, if anything of that sort tends to upset you then I'd recommend checking the doesthedogdie page for any film in which you're interested.

[twentyghosts]

Fandom:  Marvel Cinematic Universe, Deadpool, X-Men

Relationships:  Logan/Wade Wilson, Logan & Laura Kinney

Characters: Logan (Worst Wolverine), Wade Wilson, Piotr Rasputin, Remy LeBeau, Yukio, Laura Kinney, Blind Al

Words: 9900

Summary: 

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Wade turned around from the stove, revealing a "Kiss the Cook" apron over his T-shirt and jeans. "Hey, Peanut! It's great to see you too! Me and Blind Al have been so lonely since you moved out. And Mary Puppins misses you too, of course. I'll lick you for her."

Colossus regarded Logan solemnly and said, "Wade and I are preparing for the Bake Off."

--

5 times Wade was invited to Xavier's School, and 1 time Logan was invited back to Wade's apartment.

[zeravmeta]

they were all fakers huh. not just koyan but all the alter egos of the foreign god even the foreign god itself with its quest for dominance they were all fakers who tried to surpass the original and who all had no true place among humans. koyan and limbo are obvious examples but it also applies to muramasa and rasputin (noted freaks and outcasts of their era and inhabiting individuals that reflect this accordingly) and holmes himself as a hidden traitor and reflection to moriarty.

koyanskaya wanted to emulate the monster that tamamo no mae once was, something that could freely torment and destroy humans, but tamamo was a being who had always strived for understanding yet was never shown compassion. shes so committed to the good wife role because its something that will have her accepted by other humans, and more specifically something that will help her understand human love. tamamo had always wanted love and acceptance by humanity, but koyanskaya already holds human love within her whether she likes it or not, not only because of her status as a beast but also because she's representative of the animals that have walked alongside humanity from the beginning. its why tamamo is her mirror, why koyanskaya was even classified as an alter ego of tamamo in the first place, and it's also why there's even a koyanskaya of the Light and a koyanskaya Go In The Dark: they not only represent the death and life zones of her reality marble, they're another emulation of tamamo having split herself apart into the tamamo nine (the bnuuy two?). koyanskaya isnt the tamamo no mae or a part of the nine, nor is she daji as well, but she is a being similar to them because she exists with the same natural dichotimatic feelings towards humans. they hold a love for humanity that is fundamentally at odds with their own nature as natural enemies of humanity.

I feel like this is in part why ibuki douji was the only servant that could be brought in from the outside: She's also a living calamity towards humans, a literal force of nature with a will of its own. she had amnesia entering tunguska because it was a world antithetical to humans, reflective of koyanskayas mindset but also her ideal vision of a world, full of beings removed from humans and defense mechanisms celebrating the murder humans are capable of. if you took her history with humanity away, the ibuki douji that's left is quite literally just a happy go lucky free spirit of nature in a world made for herself, no longer a venerated god or feared calamity.

deep down, it's what koyanskaya wanted for herself.

taigong knew that the fair faced golden fox was a being that couldn't help its nature, it was specifically born as a monster that was meant to torment and destroy humans, but he still fell in love with her not in spite of her nature but because of it. he knew that she was a monster that would only terrorize humans but as he sees her struggling to survive he can't help but empathize with that as a fellow human, and more than anything taigong follows through on dajis curse of immortality because that's what it meant to love her, to achieve her final dream. to carry the memory of someone you love

taigong and nikitich were the only servants able to be summoned into tunguska because they were the only ones who would have compassion for koyanskaya, and compassion, understanding is what's needed to defeat beasts of humanity. it's never about defeating the big enemy, its about reaching an understanding.

anyways they just needed like 1 extra tidbit to foreshadow this beforehand so that tunguska wouldnt have been so poorly received 2ish years ago (and i mean. we do have that moment in SIN with QSH thats even called out in koyanskayas profile) + proper scheduling to not have this critical story piece be a time limited raid event (lol epic of remnant gudaguda moment) but hey they're funny

[mattzerella-sticks]

My Idea for a Live-Action X-Men Movie...

Thinking... how can we introduce the X-Men into live action, whether through movie, tv show, limited series, etc. ... and I have an idea.

Let's start in media res.

Charles Xavier's School for the Gifted has been active for the past few years, however with a small class size of seven. Scott. Jean. Bobby. Hank. Warren. Alex. Lorna. Despite only consisting of seven students, due to Xavier's wealth he has been able to keep his school open and thriving since the beginning.

However that has changed as the size of his class has dropped from seven to one after a botched mission led to the capture of his students save one, Scott Summers.

And the opening scene is Xavier sitting in his mansion, worried, waiting, until Scott kicks his door down, tells them his team is gone, and passes out due to exhaustion.

We then pick up on our narrator for the movie, the character whose eyes we will be seeing the entire movie take place through, stepping off a plane and into JFK airport...

Ororo Munroe. Storm.

She had travelled from her home in Africa seemingly on a whim, as if drawn there by fate, and - unsure where to go or what to do next - she goes to a nearby bar to make her next plan.

Who should happen to sit next to her but a short, hairy man in a cowboy hat and a thick, Canadian accent?

Ororo, meet Logan. They do not hit it off.

She does happen to hit it off with the soft spoken Russian man who is reading poetry at the other end of the bar - Piotr Rasputin - and the bartender, a Native American man - James Proudstar - who wasn't supposed to be working that day but traded shifts with his roommate.

While they are all gathered there they hear a voice in their heads and turn around to see Charles Xavier, a man they all recognize and all soon realize is the reason they are now gathered together in this bar. At first they all want to leave but Xavier implores them to at least first hear him out, which they agree to do, but he tells them he won't start until the final member of their group is here.

Cue shouts and gunfire as Kurt - Nightcrawler - runs, leaps, and teleports across the airport in all his blueness.

Xavier manages to calm the crowd however not before one of the security guards manages to call in that the threat is a mutant and it's a race to grab Kurt before reinformcements arrive. But wouldn't you know it the group is not the best team yet and the reinforcements do arrive in the form of Sentinels.

It seems like all hope is lost when, out of nowhere, a stray quartz-colored beam blows one of the Sentinels apart and allows the group a moment to escape. They regroup in Xavier's car, which had been where Scott was waiting while Xavier gathered the others.

They return to the mansion where Xavier explains what happens to his team, that they were responding to a mutant in distress on an island that had ultimately been a trap - with only Scott escaping. The group has been gathered together to help Xavier and Scott rescue their teammates.

It's mostly a resounding no. Piotr would rather be at home on the farm. James has to go searching for a new job since he undoubtedly got fired from the bar for leaving during shift hours. Logan is "not a team player" and believes that the team is most likely dead anyway. Kurt is game but he is also "not the best fighter".

Ororo also agrees to help.

That surprises everyone. She says that while the circumstances that brought them together were underhanded, she cannot sit idly by while innocent people, people like her with a mutant gene, are in danger. Not just those on the island, who they are tasked with rescuing, but around the world especially since Sentinels have become standard issue around the world. While she does not see herself being a full-time member, she knows that the team Xavier had protected mutants like them from these threats and, with them gone, who will protect their community now?

Xavier tells them that, after they help rescue his original team, they would be free to leave and do what they want with their lives as they please.

Piotr is in. So is James. Logan sighs and agrees, "Since I don't want to be the odd one out." They agree to go save the others. Scott says, however, that before they can mount the rescue mission, they need to become a team first - referencing their battle at the airport and how they need to improve.

They agree to train.

Meanwhile, on the island, we see that there is a Master Mold along with Trask and scientists working on creating the next model of Sentinels in their ongoing war against mutants using the captured mutants from Xavier's Academy as test subjects. The scientists are just as much as prisoners as the X-Men, however, as they were led to the island on false pretenses and forced to work for Master Mold who had, unbenknownst to everyone until the final act, had taken over Trask and controls him as a puppet.

A few of these scientists came with their families. One of these families were the Prydes. Katherine Anne Pryde is seen as a non-threat by both Master Mold and Trask, and is able to freely wander the island as well as speak with the prisoners because, since everything is monitored and she is twelve, she cannot do anything to disrupt the mission. We learn from this scene that Master Mold is on the cusp of unveiling a new breed of Sentinel that, using the schematics pulled from Jean's mind, would be able to track mutants anywhere without needing to be called in. It was luck that the X-Men arrived on their island, fell into their trap.

Meanwhile back in Westchester, NY, this new team of X-Men are having a hard time at coming together to work as a team, which is making Scott mad. He and Logan almost come to blows if not for Piotr stepping between them to break things up. They both step away to cool off.

Ororo decides to speak with both of them. First, she goes to Scott, and tells him that he is not being a good leader. They have a heart to heart where he confesses that his friends are his family, and Jean... he has a lot riding on this being a success, and this is as new to him as it is new to them. He is not used to working with people he hasn't grown up with. Ororo tells him that he needs to lead from a place of love and courage, and not fear. Then, she goes to find Logan to see that he is brushing off Kurt rather coldly and Ororo does not wait to take him to task on his loner attitude. They clash a bit before Ororo tells him to get his act together or just leave, as it shouldn't matter to him what they think if he really doesn't care.

They all agree to do another training session, only they never get the chance as Xavier tells them it is now or never as there was a spike of pain from the same island his first team was lost, and that cannot mean anything good. The heroes go to get suited up and fly to the island base.

Master Mold is ready to create his new breed of Sentinels and it looks like they are a success, as they have been fitted with new upgrades. He activates a few and they immediately power online with the alert that there is a mutant among them.

All eyes turn to Katherine Anne Pryde. Kitty.

Her father and mother object but are restrained as the Sentinels begin to pursue her, only able to tell her to run before they are knocked out. Kitty runs and manages to escape the Sentinels after discovering her ability to phase through solid matter. The escape is not fullproof as they burst out the bunker in full pursuit. When she reaches the beaches with what looks like no place left to go, the clouds part and reveal the Blackbird jet which Ororo had just exited from and is now flying down to confront the Sentinels she spotted chasing the little girl. The Sentinels sense her power and lock onto her, only to get blasted by lightning and turret fire.

The X-Men land and confront the Sentinels but, unlike at JFK, they are able to work together and take them down. Even Logan finds himself being a team player. They rescue Kitty and she tells them where the prisoners are and also what Master Mold is planning.

The team decides to split up - Scott, Piotr, and James will confront Master Mold while Ororo, Logan, and Kurt follow Kitty to the prison area.

Of course we stay with Ororo because, again, she is who we are relying to guide us through this story.

We get to the prison area and it's Ororo, Logan, and Kurt going HAM on these guards taking them down while Kitty uses her powers to free the X-Men. She manages to get to the main control room and hits the button that releases all the prisoners who do their best to help, despite being weakened from experiments and torture.

We learn from Kitty that there's a prisoner missing, and they admit that it's Jean. She was taken by Trask.

So the group races to the main room where Scott, Piotr, and James are and see a BUNCH of Sentinels on the loose and pure pandemonium. Piotr and James are on the ropes and Scott is putting up his best fight, however just as the group arrives the Sentinels converge and blast him, with a woman across the room watching calling out his name as he 'perishes' (we'll circle back on this later).

Without their leader and shocked, Ororo steps up and takes command, leading the group into battle like she's been doing it all her life against the Sentinels while Kitty and Kurt evacuate the scientists. She cuts across the room almost instantly to get to Trask and Jean where we finally learn that the former has been completely taken over by Master Mold and is now a Sentinel cyborg. They battle it out but it's a tough battle given the numbers they're against until there's a moment where Ororo and Jean are tucked away, shielded from incoming blaster fire from Trask and the Sentinels, when Jean places her hands to the ground and closes her eyes. Ororo asks what she's doing and Jean tells her she's asking for help.

"From who? Xavier only sent us?"

"From the mutant we came here to help in the first place. From the island."

BOOM! We get the reveal that the island. Krakoa, is a mutant and has been weakened by the experiments run on it by Master Mold and the Sentinel. Jean tells the group that they need to let Krakoa 'feed' on a piece of their energy to recupe its strength for it to help them and they all look to Ororo as it's her call, and she says they should do it. They do and the ground rumbles and shakes and we can see the island begin to terraform as it fights back against Master Mold and the Sentinels. It takes out MANY of them while the X-Men pick up the slack on the rest.

Ororo takes on Master Mold/Trask hybrid as the island begins to sink back into the ocean, with Trask, damaged, spouting nonsense. That he is there to save the world, that he is the FUTURE, the INEVITABLE, that the X-Men cannot prevent the world falling apart in the future, that they will be responsible for the apocalypse. However, with a lightning zap and some timely telekinesis, the group escapes back to the Blackbird as the rest of the island has already been evacuated.

The X-Men return to Westchester without Scott and inform Xavier of what happened.

Time moves on. They recover. They mourn. A memorial service is held for Scott. Xavier's original students, Warren, Bobby, Alex, Hank, and Lorna, decide to leave the school afterwards as they believe they need to come at the Sentinel problem another way. They form X-Force.

Xavier comes up to Ororo after the service and asks her to stay on, despite her having no obligation to do so. She watches Logan and Kurt keeping Kitty entertained while Piotr and James speak with her parents, about Kitty staying on at the school and learning from Professor Xavier, and decides that she would like to stay and lead the X-Men. Jean joins them and says that she'd be happy to be on any team Storm is leading, revealing that -of the original students - she is the only one who is staying with the X-Men. The three look out onto the horizon as there are endless possibilities for the X-Men now *play the theme song*

END CREDIT SCENE NUMBER ONE - Magneto watches Xavier's new team of X-Men in action and converses with Mystique, saying that, "If Charles has put together a new team of recruits, we should, too."

END CREDIT SCENE NUMBER TWO - A blonde woman in all white speaks with a raven-haird men with red eyes and a crimson diamond embedded in his head. "You pulled a lot of favors to get him, are you sure he's worth it?" "Believe me. He is." The duo, Emma Frost and Dr. Sinister are looking over the body of Scott Summers, very much NOT DEAD, held in stasis as the camera pans out and reveals the Hellfire Club.

And that would be how we introduce the X-Men, and mutants, into live action movies.

[fantasygerard2000]

WISH and Classical Disney Tropes

With Wish discourse not slowly dying out because people refused to not be angry for stupid reasons, I wanna discuss more about it, especially the actual existing positive things about it.

So, there's this saying from a very few people saying that "Wish is an INSULT to the Disney formula" or "Enchanted could've been a better love letter to Disney". Now, as much as I would say that this take is complete butt, I somewhat understood, but not in a way these people think.

Wish is pretty much a by-the-basics Disney animated movie; female protag, animal sidekick, power hungry villain, musical, all that shindig. It's also an original story, something that Disney detractors claim they wanted after a butt ton of sequels and remakes being made and released recently, not just from Disney but from Hollywood in general. Then again, these cretins would call anything woke bad regardless if it's original or a remake.

However, these people didn't like Wish because it was "not enough". Again, I legit understand this complaint of Wish being half baked, but my gripe about it is that it's pretty much what they claimed they wanted and yet they still complain. Same way how with even if they kept the Starboy and Villain Couple draft, they'll still say Wish sucks and want the Startwink and Bonnie and Clyde to be in a different "better" movie.

I noticed that Wish has problems similar with Princess and the Frog, which are coincidentally similar if you think about it. After their renaissance period, Disney made some non-fairytale films that are experimental during the 2000's. These films, while decent (except Home on the Range) weren't well received, largely because they deviated from the traditional Disney formula, which was being mocked by films like Shrek. Not helped that hand drawn animation was slowly dying out as 3D animated family comedies were the hot topic of the time.

After this period of failing hand drawn films and experimenting 3D films, the returned to formula with Princess and the Frog. Despite this film's popularity and love from fans, it didn't make as much as the previous renaissance films. Largely due to numerous causes like hand drawn films don't make as much money as they used to back in the late 90's and that it was released alongside Avatar (not that one). Princess and the Frog, while a good film, has problems similar to Wish; and that it has a great story but was held back by being a formulaic Disney movie. Let me explain.

Tiana's story about valuing the people who love her (Naveen and Charlotte) to the point that they themselves gave up their own dreams so they can help her achieve hers. This is a pretty heartfelt story Disney has ever made. The main issue, apart from Tiana being a frog for most of the runtime, are the fact it has to commit into being a formulaic Disney movie. Hand drawn animated, villain, magic. Things that on the surface seems good, but are just purely used as a wallpaper to cover an already good story.

There's this thing in fandoms where they don't care how a trope is executed as long as the trope is present. It's this thing as to why people like characters like for example Rasputin from Anastasia, a traditional villain with green magic and a funny sidekick. The thing is that Rasputin is so unnecessary to the point the broadway musical removed him entirely. If you watch the film back, he's mostly irrelevant to the plot about Anya discovering her past.

And that's what Princess and the Frog does with Dr. Facilier. He's cool visually and Keith David is a blast, but he's so unnecessary to the plot that his scheme to marry Laurence to Charlotte so they can Eli's money is pretty plain compared to the previous villains before him.

As for the Enchanted "comparison", I find this rathe funny because Enchanted is a parody to the Disney formula. Like Shrek, it makes fun of the tropes Disney is known for but does so in a affectionate parody. It knows it's ham and cheese and does not hesitate. However, a film spoofing the Disney formula wouldn't be as well received today as it was back in the early 2000's. Heck, Tangled was supposed to be a Shrek copy before they went into a traditional Disney fairytale adaptation.

This ties to when other studios try to copy the Disney formula but they weren't as successful. Heck, Don Bluth himself despite his quitting Dinsey was still committed to the formula. Even films like Happily N'ever After and Charmed try to cash in on the Shrek formula but failed because it's formula has been done once Shrek starts to become more than a jab towards Disney.

So, Enchanted being "better" than Wish is hecka dubious. In fact, if Enchanted were to be made today, it would very be not received because it had "Giselle, a woman, fight the dragon instead of the man." Enchanted wasn't good because of being formulaic, it was good because it subverted a lot of these tropes. It acknowledges the issues people had with classical Disney movies, especially with the unrealistic romances.

It's pretty on par with Frozen, which is known to subvert these tropes. Hans, despite what people say about him, is quite memorable for being a subversion to the "Prince Charming" caricature as he was actually using Anna to get to her thrown. And the curse was not broken by a kiss between two lovers, it was broken by familial love.

Heck, an even better example of subverting these classical Disney tropes is Maleficent of all movies. Maleficent was a large deviation from the Disney formula, even by live action remakes standards, by making her the real hero who briefly turned evil after the real villain betrayed her to make himself look like the hero. It's only when she becomes a mother to Aurora that she redeems because she has learned to love again by her. It was her kiss that broke her own spell. It's also a touching story about found family.

Coming back to Wish, the film does the by the numbers formula but doesn't include the major ones, like the romance. Romances in Disney are notoriously known for being unrealistic that it was being made fun by Disney themselves in Enchanted and Frozen. Of course, Disney improve these romances in their later films with Tiana and Naveen, Rapunzel and Eugene and Anna and Kristoff. So, "why Disney didn't include romance in Wish if it wants to be a basic classical Disney movie?" The real question is "what would the romance contribute to the plot".

In several if not a few posts an even one singular video I can find about the Starboy misconception, the romance between Asha and Star would be unnecessary to the story. Especially since the main priority is about returning the wishes so people can achieve them themselves. Yes, I am aware that there are Disney romances that aren't important to the plot but if they're not then why are they kept? If you think about other movies that have unnecessary romances, you'd probably say exactly that, the romance is unnecessary. Even classical Disney movies aren't about a romance has included them because, "male and female characters? Of course they'll get together in the end". Even Princess and the Frog, falls under this. Despite that I like Tiana and Naveen's dynamic in complementing each other, their romance together can often feel forced because they're in an animated Disney movie that's calling back to their well known formula, so they have to. The "getting together" as a reward in a story is old as heck and I'm honestly tired of seeing this story numerous times.

And if you wanted Asha to have a romance, Dahlia is right there. They already have an established friendship so why not have them be established girlfriends? Disney's actual first gay character Ethan Clade has brief scenes with his male crush and even gets together with him in the end. These two are adorable together despite their brief scenes. So, why not have Asha and Dahlia be the same?

And like I said before, even if Starboy was kept, he and Asha would've stayed platonic. Wish was written by Jennifer Lee, and the films she worked in Disney tend to acknowledge and subvert these tropes. And just as they would've stayed platonic, audiences and fans will still ship them because they're just too comfortable with the old Disney, and that what this whole things is.

The non-fairytale experimental movies Disney made weren't well received because people are just so used to Disney making fairytale adaptations so a film that isn't that made by them feels like a pack as been broken. And even their later films post Tangled that are successful, people still favored hand drawn animation, romances, villains.

And when Wish was released, they're still not happy. Now, this is due to Wish not being fully committed to the darn T, but it's still a Disney movie with stylized animation with hand drawn elements, a traditional obviously evil villain and an original black female lead.

But yet, they still look for reasons to not like this movie. Reasons that some are just beyond unreasonable that they should just stop consuming media they didn't like completely instead of complaining how it isn't what they imagined in their head and are better off watching the content that's catered to them and their specific tastes.

Animation fandom is terrible because they contradict themselves. They claim they wanted hand drawn animation back. Despite that there are still hand drawn animated films made today to the point of nominated for an Oscar, that doesn't count because it's from oversees and not mainstream Hollywood. They wanted an original movie, but praised a sequel that ended on the cliffhanger and hope the follow up comes sooner.

Even if your version of Wish was the official version, other people will still be angry at it.

[sailtomarina]

The Artist's Daughter

She was here again.

Draco Lucius Malfoy, First and Only Prince to the kingdom, stayed hidden in the stacks next to a row of tomes dictating the genealogies of the royal families dating back hundreds of years. He had his private tutor to thank for the tiresome task of locating the volume listing the exact ancestor Draco had failed to name correctly in his latest exam. The other day, he’d been here searching for a text that would answer which crops their kingdom specialized in for exports. Ridiculous, really. As if he wouldn’t some day have advisors to do all this research for him.

Then, just like today, he’d seen a girl wandering through the shelves. She hadn’t noticed him, of course. Draco was far too sneaky to be detected by some muggle, which she had to be given her unaware musings as she walked around with her nose buried in a book.

The first time, he’d remained hidden, even going so far as to cast a disillusionment spell on himself. As surprised as he was to see a stranger, he supposed that if they were to wander any of the handful of libraries in the castle, this was the most appropriate one. It was situated on the ground floor not too far from the entrance and ballroom. This is where most of the muggle texts were organized, along with an unfortunate number of historical texts currently pertinent to Draco’s education.

She’d struck him as pretty, albeit in a muggle sort of way. She’d worn a simple lady’s gown in a pale yellow that contrasted with the rich dark curls tumbling down her back. Freckles sprinkled generously across her pale skin, markings his cousins would have glamoured over from birth. If he guessed correctly, they weren’t too far apart in age, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. That was another indicator of her humble breeding—he didn’t recognize her, not from school or from the countless balls and feasts he’d attended growing up. She couldn’t be a noble.

Today, she wore a dress in a lovely sage green with tiny white flowers embroidered along the scoop neckline. Draco imagined her eyes to match the green, or to perhaps blink at him in a hazel hue. He needed to know.

“Who are you?” His voice came out much harsher than intended. 

He’d stepped out in front of her just as she was about to pass, causing her to come to an abrupt stop before crashing into him. Startled eyes, irises dark brown and glinting with a hint of gold, gazed up at him. He’d been wrong about the colors.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there. I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?” She stepped back to an appropriate distance from him, hugging a few books to her chest like armor.

“I’m Draco,” he said simply.

“The prince?” She didn’t sound too surprised, and eyed his unmistakable platinum hair.

“The very same. Why are you here in the library?” He’d finally tempered his tone to a more congenial one. 

“I was told I could read whatever I liked in here. My father is painting your Grand Ballroom.”

Ah. She was the daughter of the painter.

His mother made it a point to elect a new project as soon as the previous one was complete. Previous years had resulted in a reworked Imperial Garden, which boasted rose gardens with every imaginable variety, both magical and non-magical. A formidable greenhouse was added shortly after, and the caretaker they’d employed soon obtained and cultivated the rarest of specimens for use in medicine and potions. 

This year, Queen Narcissa turned her attention to the Grand Ballroom. She and his father adored hosting balls at every opportunity. What better way to display their love for art and beauty than to paint the entire ceiling and all its walls with depictions of magical beasts and figures from history. Circe. Merlin. Rasputin. Titania and Oberon.

Draco had assumed they’d hire a wizard, but he should have known that when it came to art, the king and queen saw no difference between magic or not. They simply wanted the best, and if that happened to be stationary art, then so be it.

“Find anything interesting?” He feigned interest, intent on keeping her talking. She was far more entertaining than pouring over volumes of ancestors alone.

She perked up at his question, and Draco could have sworn sections of her hair floated for just a brief moment.

Certainly not.

“I did! Did you know your castle is situated on top of the most powerful spot in the kingdom? All of the most prominent ley lines converge here underneath our feet!” She stomped one foot in emphasis. He wouldn’t be surprised if she went through several slippers a season if she always beat on them in that manner.

Wait.

Did she say “ley lines”?

“Are you a witch?” he blurted out, once again wincing at the gracelessness of his question. His mother would be mortified if she could hear him.

Hermione looked at him as if he was stupid. “Yes. Why else would your family let me wander around here by myself?”

“I don’t know, maybe because this is the one library of many where muggles are allowed? They do come here occasionally, muggle nobles, to garner favor with us,” he sputtered. He still couldn’t quite believe it. She was a witch. She was an unknown witch of his age. “Why don’t I know you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“My parents are muggles. I might have a squib ancestor somewhere, but as far as we know, I’m the only magic user in the Granger family. They sent me abroad for schooling since Hogwarts doesn’t currently accept muggle-borns.” She raised her eyebrows as if challenging him, but Draco couldn’t find it within himself to care about her background.

Hermione didn’t fawn on him like the other girls who had paraded themselves around him at school. She didn’t bat her eyelashes or titter behind a gloved hand. She didn’t wear gloves at all, her slender fingers wrapping around ancient texts as if relishing the touch of the worn covers. She probably thumbed the pages like his instructors told him never to do.

He would have thought that would annoy him, but he instead found himself intrigued in this muggle-born witch who liked reading, wore slippers instead of heels, and forewent glamours.

“Do you want to see the other libraries?”

His words were like a spell, as effective at getting her to brighten as a cheering draught.

“Oh, can I? The king and queen won’t mind?” She nearly vibrated in her excitement.

Her hair was definitely twice the size it was before.

“Not if you’re with me,” Draco said with a smirk, though that was partially a lie. If they’d wanted her in the other libraries, they would have explicitly told her. 

“Well, in that case, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” She made to dash away, but he caught her shoulder before she could do so.

“Allow me,” he said with a gesture towards the books still clutched to her chest.

“Oh, I can carry these.”

“Please, I insist.” It wouldn’t do if either of his parents not only caught him skiving off lessons with the girl, but allowing her to carry around books like some commoner. When she finally let go of her findings, he cast a featherweight charm and looked at her knowingly. She flushed an adorable shade of pink.

“They really weren’t very heavy, but thank you anyways.”

They spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring, only making it to two additional libraries. Hermione had only added to the pile of books floating behind Draco. He had to refresh the charm multiple times due to the sheer weight.

“You do realize you can’t remove these from the castle, don’t you?” He hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see her, that she’d continue to visit along with her father for as long as there was work. “How long will it take your father to finish the ballroom?”

“To answer your first question, yes, I do understand that I’ll need to reserve these books to read later. I was hoping you could help with that.” He nodded his agreement, even as he inwardly danced with joy at the thought that he now had a reason to continue seeing the girl. “And to answer your second, it could take my father years.”

“Years?” Draco was aghast at the approximation.

“Years,” she repeated. “If you go take a look, you’ll see why. He’s not even working alone—he has an entire team helping with the moldings and scenery.”

Trust his mother to pick a project of such staggering proportions that it required multiple artists. On the bright side, that meant he’d have a long time to get to know Hermione, even if it was only during the holidays.

“It’s a shame you can’t attend Hogwarts.” It wasn’t until she tutted in agreement that he realized he’d said the words aloud. If she’d been like any other girl, she would have pounced on any hint of attachment on his part. She, however, did not.

“Well, if the king’s word is true, then I may soon. In exchange for my father’s work, yours agreed to update Hogwarts’ policies. I love Beauxbatons, but I can’t disagree that staying closer to home would make everything a lot easier on my family.”

“If you do,” Draco said the words slowly, hardly believing they were coming out of his mouth but needing her to know before it was too late, “then you should ask to be sorted into Slytherin.”

His heart sank at the way her nose wrinkled and lips turned downward in a grimace. “Isn’t that house renowned for pureblood ideology? I was leaning more towards Ravenclaw, myself.”

He nodded somewhat agreeably. “Books and cleverness…you could certainly do worse. They’re not a bad lot, if you ignore their tendency to disappear into their studies. Though…” he trailed off, reluctant to give away his feelings again without assistance.

“Though it might mean we don’t see each other? I wouldn’t let that happen outside of exams,” she said offhandedly. “I’ll keep in mind what you said. Snakes can be quite clever, in a sneaky kind of way.” The pointed look she sent Draco reminded him of how he’d approached her in the first place.

“Quite.”

A gentle melody played in the air, noting the top of the hour and finishing with eight long chimes.

“And that’s my cue. Hold on to those for me, would you?” Hermione leaned up onto her toes, laid the palms of her hands atop his shoulders, and pressed a kiss onto one cheek, then the other.

Draco could do nothing but stand still in shock at her forwardness. Then he remembered where she went to school and the strange habits the people of that land practiced. He cleared his throat to cover his awkward silence, but the crooked smirk she wore proved the attempt useless.

“When will I see you next?” He realized how needy that sounded as it came out, and hastily continued,“Just so I know when to have them ready?”

She flitted to the doors and didn’t respond until she was nearly through them, “I’m sure you’ll find me!”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind her stack of books, the echoes of her soft lips on his face, and the sweet scent of apple blossoms in the air. Draco wondered if she had perhaps cast some sort of love spell on him. How else could he explain his complete lack of reservation around her, or why her humble origins didn’t matter to him like he thought they should?

Queen Narcissa found him still in contemplation shortly after, and was impressed at the amount of reading material gathered around him.

“My dragon, there you are! Wilfred said he’d sent you to recover texts on our family history ages ago.”

“Mother, did you know the painter has a daughter?”

Narcissa blinked as she processed the odd question. “Master Granger? Of course. Hermione is a lovely, bright little thing. I told her she could read whatever she liked in our First Library. Why do you ask?”

Her son continued to stare at the wall, and she had half a mind to cast a homenum revelio.

“Draco?”

He came to with a shake and gave her one of his rare, full smiles. “No reason. I think we’ll be wonderful friends. You should make sure Hogwarts changes their acceptance rules before school starts again.”

Bewildered and bemused, she stroked a hand over his hair, so like his father’s. “I take it the two of you met?”

“We did. These are all hers.” He gestured towards the books once more.

“And here I thought you’d finally taken an interest in your studies.”

He snorted and she nearly pinched him on the arm for his cheek. She made do instead with a tickle to his side. He ducked away from her with a laugh, holding up his hands in surrender. “Mother, please! That isn’t fair! You know all my weak spots.”

She desisted in her attack with another indulgent smile. “And don’t you forget it. Just be careful with Hermione, dear.”

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head in confusion and she nearly sighed at his naivety. The young could be so oblivious, but she envied them their freedom.

She thought back on her own upbringing. The Blacks were more ancient and arrogant than even the royal family; her marriage to Lucius had been agreed upon at birth and as expected as the fact that clouds brought rain and Blacks were as pure as pure could be. She knew she was his from the beginning, and no amount of pining after others or imagining life in another place with a different name would change her fate.

Narcissa looked at her son, a near perfect replica of her husband aside from the softer grey eyes she’d bestowed upon him and his smile. He’d been so much like her at the start, but over the years he’d become more and more like his father. Now, today, he was like his younger self again.

She didn’t care what Lucius intended for his heir. She just wanted him to find happiness.

“True friends are difficult to come by, particularly for people of our station. I have a feeling that, if you nurture your relationship with Hermione, she’ll be someone worth keeping at your side.”

“What would father say?” he asked, caution and desire battling for domination on his face.

“He prizes power above all else.” This much was true. Lucius just happened to have a bit of a blind spot outside of magical families. “Apply yourself to your studies, help one another, and I’ll take care of Hogwarts and your father.”

Listening to his mother, Draco started to relax and let a bit of his earlier hope trickle back in. He wasn’t sure how Hermione had secured her approval, but she had. Greater deeds had been turned into ballads.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit terrifying sometimes?”

Narcissa smirked, immediately reminding Draco of wild curls and a smattering of freckles. The two women looked wildly different, yet they gave off a similar air of confident capability.

“I have been told. Once or twice.”

He made a note to tread carefully around Hermione in the future. If she turned out anything like his mother, he never wanted to be on the opposite end of her ire.

Oh, the feats they would accomplish together.

WC 2606

DHRMonth Prompt: Week 4 - Alternate Universe, September 22 - Royal AU

Cross-posted to AO3

I have half a mind to write a full story in this setting, since it spiraled into something I want to know more about. I didn’t think I used to have a thing for royal AUs, but maybe I do???

[libra-cant-just-dance]

2025 preview opinions!

Kind of a “meh” batch of previews but it’s the first week so I was already expecting them to start off with some of the less exciting maps

Halloween’s Here: it’s a kids map so I can’t really judge it. It’s silly and colorful and cheesy like a kids map should be. I like the costumes, hate the song. Tainted Love remains the only valid Ubisoft song

Poker Face seated version: Hell yeah! I’d like it better if it wasn’t seated but seated maps are good so I’m not complaining. Lowkey wish they used this aesthetic for the main map instead. Im biased though because I LOVE the magician magic cards aesthetic. So much. Coach looks great, background looks great. Excited for everyone to overanalyze all the cards. Speaking of overanalyzing, the coach has every card suit on her outfit except for hearts. What does that mean? Uhhhh something

The Lion Sleeps Tonight: again, kids map. Yes, the lion looks scary. And also kind of badly animated? The way the mane moves is off. Kids map so I can’t really judge it too hard but it looks worse than most kids maps. I’ll probably play it once for completion’s sake and then never again

Party in the USA: Cute! A really good song to put in JD. My one complaint is I hate when they just make a bunch of identical copies of that coach in the background doing the same thing (they did that in Hollaback Girl and it drove me crazy). I’m not super obsessed with it, but I could see it being one of the ones I realize is super fun after I play it and then love

Loving On Me: I don’t really like it? It’s weird in the way a kids map is weird but the song is very much not a kids song? Like if it was any other song I’d think it was meant to be a kids map. I know the alien coaches are reused from some past map but the blue one scares me. Why are his fingers like that he looks like a doodlebop

Payphone: YESSS! God I love how much effort they put into the bride and Rasputin maps, it’s SO funny. And using Payphone for it? Does this count as camp? Idk but I love it. Wild that Rasputin’s bachelor party looks like it’s at Polo and Ruben’s apartment (ngl I don’t really like when they reuse backgrounds but I’ll let it slide this time cuz it’s funny). I do wish he was in his new outfit but again, it’s funny. Also I’m laughing at everyone saying this is gonna be the conclusion to their story. I am fully expecting them to give us no answers again and leave us on another cliffhanger.

[loiladadiani]

Irina Alexandrovna Romanova (1895 -1970)

When Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich married Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna (sister of the then Tsarevich Nicholas Alexandrovich), he was marrying one of the best matches in Europe: Xenia was the daughter of the Tzar Alexander III and the sister of the future Tzar Nicholas II. She had been in love with "Sandro," her second cousin, since childhood (and he saw no reason to discourage her affections, of course)

Sandro and Xenia had seven children. Irina was their first child and only daughter. This beautiful, quiet, delicate child was the first grandchild of Alexander III (who died the year before she was born) and would be the only biological niece of Tzar Nicholas II.

During the first few years of their respective marriages, the Tzar and Empress Alexandra and Grand Duke Alexander and Grand Duchess Xenia spent a lot of time together, and their daughters Olga and Tatiana, and Irina being very close in age, spent a lot of time together and developed a relationship. Distance would later grow between the couples and the children.

By the time Xenia was pregnant with her seventh child, her marriage to Sandro had gone sour. Sandro had fallen in love with a French/Spanish woman and was having an affair with her. Subsequently, Xenia started an affair of her own. Some sources say that they managed to keep their marital problems from their children; others that their quarrels might have had something to do with Irina's decision to marry Prince Felix Yusupov when he asked.

Felix was handsome, extremely smart, and one of the richest men in Russia, but he had a reputation. Irina accepted him as a bridegroom regardless of her parents' misgivings. Felix had a wild youth which seemed to include affairs with men and women. He enjoyed dressing as a woman and wearing his mother's jewels; apparently, he even caught Edward VII's eye at some point. When the Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna talked with him about this behavior before his marriage to Irina, he did not deny it. Still, he said that his wild days were over, and he was very much in love with Irina.

Irina had no qualms about signing away succession rights for their future progeny when she married Felix, who was not royal (their marriage was morganatic.) She married him wearing a veil that had belonged to Marie Antoinette. Both looked beautiful. Their wedding was the last grand happening (1000 guests) before the Great War.

Felix and Irina were out of Russia when WWI started and had difficulty passing through Germany to return to Russia.

The Yusupovs settled in a section of Felix's parents' Moika Palace. Felix and Irina had one daughter (whom they named Irina but called "Bebe") and helped the war effort in Russia by opening two hospitals and a sanatorium in their Crimean state of Koreiz.

Felix would go on to kill Rasputin (he was banished to Koreiz by the Tzar) in a misguided effort to help the dynasty survive. As things in Russia became worse. A group of members of the Imperial Family, including the Dowager Empress, Irina's parents and brothers, and several Grand Dukes and their families, avoided being imprisoned and murdered by seeking shelter in Crimea. The Russians held them, prisoner until the Treaty of Brest-Livtosk was signed. Interestingly enough, the Germans liberated them. They left Russia in a warship sent by England to rescue the Dowager Empress.

They lived in an apartment Felix had in London; they had also smuggled out paintings and jewelry. There was a car they had not used in years waiting in a garage in Paris. The couple was extremely generous to the Russian Community and gave a lot to the exiles in need. They eventually bought a mansion in Paris and opened a couture house in Paris, which was very successful for a few years.

Felix and Irina lead an expensive lifestyle, and their couture business went bankrupt (after significant success.) By 1934, as luck would have it, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer released a film named "Rasputin and the Empress." Felix sued the company for slandering Irina and won the lawsuit. He also released two books which did very well.

After this, the coupled lived a quiet life (for them), supporting young artists and attending various functions of the Russian emigre community.

Irina remained close to all her relatives and helped them whenever she could. Her father, Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich, died in her arms.

Felix's and Irina's marriage turned out to be a great success. They were married and lived together, supporting and caring for each other for over fifty years. When Felix died in 1967, Irina was grief-stricken. She died three years later.

[lightning-and-sparks]

I heard Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men. And tying it in with the Jack is the son of The Bride and Rasputin theory. When I heard the song yesterday it just really struck me as relating to the couple after NS stole Jack from them. Especially the line: “I'll see you when I fall asleep” referring to them seeing their son in their dreams. And in addition, it could speak of the two’s relationship falling apart with the wedding.

That and I just started to openly sob when I listened to the song with that in mind. So I’m putting this here incase anyone else needs a good cry

Ugh that song always fucking gets meeee. “Just let me go we’ll meet again soon” fuck you 🥲

[jate-kara]

Unrepentant | On AO3

"I'm told you've already heard."

Shiro didn't look up from the pieces of Trespasser he'd spread out across the workshop table. It had been too long since he'd taken it all the way apart and put it back together again - not since he'd shown the Young Wolf how to build their own. But he still knew every component by heart. They were solid weight in his hands. Familiar. Immutable.

He heard more than saw Saladin move from the doorway. His cloak rustled softly as he eased himself onto the bench at Shiro's side. "Bad news travels fast," Shiro bit out, to appease him. The half-assembled weapon trembled in his grip, and he hissed a curse under his breath. If he wasn't careful, he'd have to recalibrate the whole damn thing again.

Saladin's hand landed on his wrist and held tightly. "What are you going to do?"

An acrid retort burned in Shiro's throat. "Nothing," he muttered, and that tasted just as bitter as the scathing return he didn't say. "The Young Wolf has already made a vow of vengeance. I won't interfere. Wouldn't be right."

It turned in his chest: a truth he'd known and hadn't spoken aloud. The Young Wolf had been there, at the Prison of Elders, where the Barons had shot Sundance, and Uldren had executed Cayde. The Young Wolf had watched Cayde die. Of course they'd torn off to set the Shore ablaze. It was what any good Guardian - what any good friend - would do. Wouldn't be honorable to disrespect that Vow, but it felt like betrayal anyway.

Saladin was quiet for a long beat. "I don't believe you," he said at last. "He was too important to you for that."

"Cayde was important to everyone."

"Not like he was to you."

Shiro yanked his arm free and turned his attention back to Trespasser. Saladin didn't stop him, though he didn't leave either. They sat in tense silence while Shiro slowly assembled, tested, calibrated, and recalibrated the weapon. Once it was done, he cradled it gently in both of his hands. Same steady hum. Always reliable. His one irrevocable constant.

"Why are you here?" Shiro asked, more roughly than he'd meant to.

Saladin gave a heavy sigh. "You really have to ask?"

"I don't want to talk."

"Neither did I, after Rasputin raised the bodies of the Iron Lords. And I seem to remember telling you the same thing. Maybe you can remind me how well that went."

Shiro avoided his gaze. "I don't want to talk," he said again, as if it would be any more convincing the second time when it hadn't even dented the steel of Saladin's resolve the first.

Saladin's hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed. "I know what it's like to be the last survivor. That grief. That pain. It will destroy you if you let it. You have borne the loss of your entire pack, and now I find you here, alone, with your sidearm in hand. You tell me that you aren't going to pursue Uldren. I'll accept that. Now tell me that whatever it is that you are planning to do won't end with your final death."

The ache sitting heavy in his chest surged and swelled until it exploded in a blinding burst of agony. Shiro snapped to face him, but for all of the fire burning in the heart of his frame, he couldn't break the strangled silence between them. Andal had suffered and died, and Shiro had stayed back and let Cayde swear vengeance against Taniks, because Andal had been the other half of Cayde’s soul, and Taniks was supposed to be dead already. Then Tevis had gone off to the Black Garden on his own without a damn word to Shiro about it - not a warning, and not a goodbye. And he hadn't come back, and Shiro had listened when Cayde had begged him to leave it alone, because they were the last of their fireteam, and because Cayde hadn't sounded so broken since they'd lost Andal. Now Cayde was dead, too, and the Young Wolf was on the trail of his killer while Shiro sat safely in the Iron Temple, drowning in the same useless grief.

He shrugged out of Saladin's grasp and pushed himself to stand. "I've assigned my patrols to a few reliable fireteams. Give my room to whoever wants it. Maybe Marcus Ren. He's sent in more than one request to test Sparrows on the mountain. You should consider it. He's a good Hunter, and he might liven things up around here."

"No," Saladin returned immediately. "The room is yours, and so it will remain vacant until you return."

"I don't know if I'll ever be back."

Saladin's stare was unwavering. "Then it will stay vacant forever."

"Is this about me leaving, or about not wanting Ren in here?"

A ghost of a grimace twisted Saladin's mouth. "Where Marcus Ren goes, Enoch Bast always follows. If I let them in, Felwinter Peak will never know peace again."

A suffocating silence fell over them like a veil. The Iron Temple had been his sanctuary for a long time; it was the first place that had brought him any measure of peace since his fireteam had fractured. Now Shiro breathed and felt the truth settle in his chest: Cayde was dead, he was the last one left, and this wasn't home anymore. It was just another end.

Saladin made the first move to break the deathly quiet. He stood, too, and clapped a hand on Shiro's shoulder. "You'll be back," he said, with a certainty that didn't reach his eyes. "A long time ago, you swore to compete in the Iron Banner. I intend to hold you to that promise."

"I said once things had settled down. They haven't."

"Then you'll have to stay alive until they do."

Shiro waited too long to answer. Every line of Saladin's body was strung through with sudden tension. His jaw twitched. A storm raged in his eyes, first defiant fury, then fear, then grief, and finally, quiet resignation. He stayed there for a beat more, like he was burning the moment into the back of his mind, and then he was gone. The heavy iron door slammed shut behind him.

Suzume shimmered to life. She bobbed once, like she was studying him, then floated gently to eye level. "Shiro," she started, "you promised."

Trespasser fit perfectly in his grasp. The core pulsed a steady beat. "The person I made that promise to is dead."

"Cayde still wouldn't want you to take this kind of risk."

What Cayde had wanted didn't matter anymore. "You don't have to come with me. Stay here, where it's safe."

Suzume gave an exasperated huff. "I go where you go," she said. "Always."

"This once, I wish you wouldn't."

"Always," she repeated, as if he hadn't said anything. "To the very end."

Trespasser slipped smoothly into its holster. Shiro took one last look at the workshop, then hoisted his survival pack and turned away. He knew the route to the hangar so well he could walk it in his sleep. He felt every step. He felt nothing at all. He'd done this a thousand times. He might only ever do it once more.

"Suzume, do me a favor and scan the ship for trackers."

"You don't think Lord Saladin would do that."

"You and I both know he would."

Suzume muttered something so quietly Shiro couldn't make it out, and not for the first time, he felt a pang of distant regret, somewhere beyond the numb haze. "All trackers neutralized," she reported softly, hovering over his shoulder as he started the ship's ignition sequence. Right about now is when she'd usually call Cayde for him, and they'd talk until the screaming void in Shiro's head was finally quiet. But there was no more Cayde. There was no more fireteam. There had only ever been a few other people in the entire universe who knew how to pull him back from the gaping maw, and Suzume was the only one left. He should listen to Suzume more. He should care about that strained note in her voice. The broken desperation bleeding from every word. It should be killing him. Why wasn't it killing him?

The jumpship roared to life, carrying them out of the Temple and high into the atmosphere. They'd barely reached its edge when the holo blared to life. Saladin's expression was somewhere between disbelief and agony.

"You can't pursue Uldren," he said, volume rising with every word, "and Taniks is finally dead. But the Black Garden isn't an answer. It's suicide. Whatever you destroy, the Vex will just rebuild. On your corpse."

Shiro heard the words as if Saladin had shouted them from across a chasm. "I'm not going to try to destroy it. I just need to see it for myself."

"You're lying. To me, and to yourself. You don't want to see where Tevis Larsen died. You want to set the world on fire because he's gone. Because they're all gone, and this is the only vengeance you can reach."

Shiro didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Saladin stopped long enough to take a measured inhale. "Come back to the Temple, Shiro. Don't waste your life. Don't waste Suzume's life. She'll never abandon you. If you die in there, so will she."

"Suzume makes her own choices."

Saladin's face twisted painfully. "Was Cayde really all that was holding you back from this?"

There had been too many late nights, putting in coordinates and clearing them out and putting them back in. Too many times he'd curled up in his jumpship while Cayde chattered in his ear: You were always making up stories for us, Shiro. Lemme give it a try. I call this one Tevis Finally Learns How To Smile. Shiro had watched the sun rise from the pilot's seat. Had met the dawn with cool engines and a quiet heart. Had always murmured Thank you and every time, without fail, Cayde had returned Any time, Shiro. You call me any time you need me, you got that? I'm not goin' anywhere. That's a promise.

"Doesn't matter," Shiro forced, past the swelling grief. "Goodbye, Lord Saladin."

"Shiro-"

The comm cut out with a sickening buzz of static. Shiro slumped in his seat, barely conscious of Suzume's disapproving hum. "So," he muttered, "'all trackers neutralized', huh?"

Suzume dipped one half of her shell in her best imitation of a shrug. "I thought he should know where we were, at least."

"You don't think he'll try to stop me?"

"I think he knows you'd never forgive him if he did. But if we disappear, they'll know where to look."

Shiro tugged his hood up. It made sense. He should've thought of that. He should be thinking of a plan now. He'd told himself he'd come up with one, for Suzume's sake, if nothing else. Still, every time he tried, all he could manage was a vague sense of sickness, and a hand on the holster at his hip. There was a wall between him and the urgency he knew he should feel: infinite and insurmountable. He didn't have the strength to strike it. Didn't have the will, either.

They didn't talk the rest of the way to the Moon, or when they touched down, or when the nightmare shrieks split the silence between them. The Lunar Battlegrounds were too close to the Scarlet Keep for him to have landed there comfortably, so he left his ship on the outskirts of Sorrow's Harbor, and slowly made his way to the bridge, and then the Battlegrounds. The Vex gate was tucked into a cavern there, if the latest report was to be believed, and if the Hive hadn't launched some major offensive that had destroyed it in the last few weeks. Should be as simple as sneaking in and waiting for an activation. Could always provoke a Hive attack if it took too long.

Could always throw himself through and hope he survived.

Shiro called on the Light and bent it around him in a cloak, then slipped into the passage. There were no Vex on the route there, and only a few sentries in the cave itself. He took up a position behind one of the pillars closest to the Gate, Trespasser in hand, and settled in for a long wait. Kept a constant count of the hobgoblins. Kept an eye on the time. Kept himself here, with his back pressed to cold stone, and with his focus on the electric pulse of Trespasser's core beneath his palm. Constant. Immutable. Always.

"Shiro," Suzume called, through their internal comm, "are you okay?"

Of course he was okay. As far as waiting went, this was far from the longest he'd had to stay in one spot. One time he and Andal had spent three weeks on the same cliff. And thank the Traveler it had been Andal and not Tevis. Andal would at least talk to you on long stakeouts. Tevis would go dead silent.

"Shiro, you're shaking."

He wasn't. Couldn't be. Trespasser trembled in his hands. When had he started shaking? Shiro managed a shallow breath, and then another. Suzume was tucked away in her pocket dimension, safe from any enemy's sight, but he could still feel the jagged edge of her worry cutting into the back of his mind.

"I'm okay," he sent back. "Keep an eye on the Gate."

Suzume didn't respond. The jagged edge sharpened. He brushed it away. He shouldn't be able to brush it away. Shiro shook his head. He just had to hold out until the gate opened. The Garden was massive, by all accounts. If they made it in, there should be plenty of ways to skirt the Vex sentries, at least long enough to make it to the site.

At least long enough to see where Tev had died.

"What are you going to do after?" Suzume asked.

Shiro gave her the mental equivalent of a shrug. Suzume hesitated. "Are you sure it won't be…too much?"

"I'll be fine. Tev has been gone for years. This is just - closure."

"There was a funeral," Suzume reminded, though there was no weight to her words. They both knew Hunters took no comfort in formalities. The funeral had been held by some of Tevis's other old - comrades? Friends, maybe. Not close enough to him to know he wouldn't have wanted it. Shiro had helped Cayde lay Tevis to rest, but he hadn't gone to whatever ceremony had been held later. He hadn't cleaned his City apartment after, either - not of Tevis's various trinkets, or Cayde's extra cloaks, or Andal's books. It was still sitting untouched, like a monument to his loss: precious fragments of the people he never thought he'd have to live without.

"Yeah," Shiro said at last. "Tevis would have hated it."

That got him a strained chuckle. He couldn't return it. He didn't even want to. There was a void in his chest where that faint warmth was supposed to be. Trespasser's hum was steady. He focused on it until the tremors in his hands stopped completely. Until it didn't hurt to breathe.

The gate stayed quiet for a few hours. When it finally burst to life, Shiro wasted no time in darting through it. He registered a whirlwind rush and an ear-splitting buzz,  and then he found himself on the other side. There was a lot of green for a Vex outpost; besides some bronze plates and glowing confluxes, the rest was worn stone and open sky. It was enough to stop him dead two steps from the portal.

"Shiro, there are Vex incoming. We need to move," Suzume bit out, and he jolted, casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure she was still there, hovering in the cover of his cloaking field, and not trapped on the other side of the gate. The Vanguard report said Tev's Ghost had gotten separated from him, and that was how they'd both ended up needing burials. Shiro had wondered for a long time after that if it had been bad luck, or if the Vex had done it deliberately: if they'd found a way to sever the lifeline so they could seize some connection to the Light. If they'd known somehow that Tevis had been deeply connected to the Void - that even when the Darkness was so thick you could barely breathe, he could still feel the Call. Shiro still wondered now, as he slipped by the few Vex that were mulling around the gate, and as he climbed until he had a decent vantage, well away from their eyes, where he could pause to orient himself and punch in the coordinates he'd pulled out of the Vanguard's report archives.

"You know, there could have been an army waiting for us on this side," Suzume grumbled. There was no bite to her words, just barely restrained fear. Odd for her. She usually had such total faith in their teamwork.

Shiro spared her a glance. "There wasn't."

"But there could have been. What happened to making a plan? We always make a plan."

Shiro didn't have an answer for that. "We should get moving. No telling how long it'll be before more Vex come through this quadrant."

The Garden was towering and ethereal. It seemed older than even the Vex's eternity, like the stone had been hewn and worn by a force beyond concept and calculation. Shiro felt it in every step: the reverberation of some ancient power, so potent that even now, eons after its genesis, it still suffused the mesas and the ruins. The closer they came to Tevis's final stand, the stronger it was. By the time Shiro caught sight of the first of the old Void tether scarring, it was so thick that it weighed on him with every breath. He followed the trail of the fight through that heavy fog until it led him to the end: a Hunter's helmet painted with the vermillion stripe, surrounded by scoring, and set gently against the stone.

Suzume said something, but Shiro couldn't hear her over the ringing in his head. The arc cloak slipped away in a snap of electric blue. Tevis had stood here, against a horde, with nothing but his bow and the final burst of the Light with which it had been infused. He'd fought, and he'd faltered, and he'd fallen, and the last damn thing he'd seen before he died was the cold glow of a Vex as it buried its rifle in his chest and burned out his heart. Cayde's account had been sparse with the details, but the Young Wolf's report had filled them in. Tevis hadn't been on the comm in his final moments. Interference, they'd said, and maybe it was true.

Or maybe Tevis had wanted to spare Cayde from hearing him scream.

The Light surged around Shiro in a storm. Trespasser was a solid weight in his hand. The core pulsed as it charged to full capacity, faster than the pounding in his chest. The numb haze between him and the rest of the world split wide with a thunderous crack, so sharp and searing that it hit him like an inferno blast. He couldn't breathe for the shattered grief; he couldn't see for the strangled rage. Tevis had died here - cornered, afraid, and alone. He had been beyond Shiro's reach. Just like Andal. Just like Cayde. Too far. Always too late. Shiro's hands shook. A violent tremor wracked his spine. He could release the storm and burn to ashes in his own Light and it wouldn't bring them back. There was nothing and no one left to save. There was only death. There was only another end.

"Breathe, Shiro."

Hands fell on his shoulders, holding tight. The storm surged higher. Shiro opened his mouth to say something - say anything - and all that came out was a broken sob. He tried to raise Trespasser, but it fell from his useless fingers instead. He couldn't fight this. He didn't want to. Real or not - it still looked and moved exactly like Tevis Larsen, down to the strained set of his spine, and the raw fear in his eyes. The only difference was the shimmer around his outline, and the Garden's ethereal glow on his skin.

"Breathe," Tevis said again, and shook him when he didn't respond. "Damn it, Shiro, if you don't get a grip you're gonna bring a whole Garden worth of Vex down on your head."

"Tev," he said, like a prayer, or a plea.

The grip shifted, so it was more gentle strength than sheer desperation. "Yeah," he said. "I'm here. I gotcha."

"You died."

"I am dead. Or whatever passes for dead here."

"But you-"

"Look, I'll explain once you don't look like you're gonna explode." Tevis's tone softened. "Just breathe for me, all right?"

Shiro stared at him for a long beat, then took a shuddering inhale. Another. The storm receded like the tide, and Shiro staggered, steadied only by the ghostly grip on his shoulders. "Easy," Tevis murmured, and guided him carefully to the ground, so he was sitting propped up against the stone wall. Once he seemed satisfied that Shiro wasn't going to spontaneously erupt into a shower of sparks, he crouched in front of him.

"You look like shit," Tevis announced, though there was resignation there rather than his usual dry teasing.

Shiro flinched at it. He'd spent so many nights staring up at the stars and wondering what he'd say, if he could see Andal or Tevis again. Now, the words stopped in his throat. His chest was on fire. He wanted to scream, but when he opened his mouth, the best he could manage was a wounded keen.

"Shiro," Tevis called, from somewhere beyond the hurricane in his head. He sounded worried. He shouldn't sound like anything at all. He was dead and gone and this was a trick of the Garden or of Shiro's desperate mind. Tevis had left him behind a long time ago, without even a simple goodbye.

"You're dead," Shiro croaked. "You're not really here."

A cool palm pressed to his cheek. "Yeah," Tevis said, voice strained. "I died. Garden turned me into this, all right? But I'm still me."

"You're not," Shiro forced, through the fresh wave of grief. "If you were, you would've come back."

Tevis seized one of Shiro's hands and held on fiercely. For a moment, he was silent, trembling. "I can't," he said at last, like the words had been punched out of him. "I'm bound to the Garden. From what I can make out, the Vex think I'm some kinda paracausal entity. Anomaly. I tried, Shiro - I swear I tried, more times than I can remember. Goin' near the Gate is like getting torn apart."

Shiro didn't answer. Couldn't. Dimly, he heard Suzume reminding him that Tevis had still been a Guardian when he'd died, and that the Vex had never been able to simulate the Light or its Risen, and that the Black Heart had been born here, before the Young Wolf had destroyed it. That the place was humming with paracausality. That there could be a trapped soul.

That Tevis might not be beyond his reach.

Tevis was still silent, and still holding on. Slowly, Shiro reached out and pressed his palm flat against his chest. Felt it rise and fall with every breath. Felt the rapid pulse pounding beneath. Tevis's thumb stroked a gentle line along the sharp curve of his cheek. "I'm here," he said softly. "Just breathe."

Shiro stayed there, motionless in the quiet, until the hurricane subsided, then let himself slump forward to rest his forehead against Tevis's sternum. "You're cold."

"Side-effect of being a paracausal manifestation," Tevis returned, with a wry smile in his voice. "Can't hold it forever, either. Sometimes I'm just a whisper."

Shiro's next inhale shuddered. When Cayde had sat Shiro down and explained what had happened, he'd taken all of the blame on himself. He'd said he'd asked Tevis to scout a network of Vex gates, and that he had as good as sent him to Mars, and then his death in the Garden. Shiro had known better. Tevis was cautious and paranoid, but he'd also been more of a loner than any of them. He went where he wanted and did what he wanted, with or without support. Andal had, by virtue of being Andal, been better at clocking and then talking Tevis out of the more dangerous exploits, or, failing that, convincing him not to go alone. He'd had a kind, genuine way with his words, and whether he meant to or not, he was always bleeding open concern when he was really worried. It had done Tevis in the same as the rest of them. But while Cayde had been no less important to Tevis, he hadn't had the benefit of that sway. He'd done everything he could to keep Tevis safe; Shiro knew that without having to ask. It had just been a doomed effort from the start.

The pressure building in his chest swelled until it burst. "You just left," Shiro said, and the words exploded out of him in a harsh whisper. "Why in the hell didn't you say something?"

Tevis stiffened, but he didn't push away. He didn't respond, either. His hand slipped around to cradle the back of Shiro's head, then resumed that soothing touch.

"I would have come with you."

"I know. Didn't want you to. Seemed like you'd finally found a place you liked when you moved into the Iron Temple. Wasn't gonna drag you out into the Wilds again when you were happy scouting for Cayde."

"That's a decision you should have left to me."

Tevis blew out a breath. "Then we both might've been trapped here for the rest of eternity."

"You could've at least said goodbye."

Tevis's hold on him tightened. "Didn't think it was gonna be goodbye."

"Well, it was." Shiro moved to lift his head, and while Tevis didn't resist, the tremor in his hands was enough to give Shiro pause.

"I know you're pissed, Shiro. But I'm glad it was just me," Tevis said roughly. "Couldn't live with myself if this happened to you too."

The fire in Shiro's chest flickered and died. "Damn you," he muttered, though there was no bite to it.

It earned him a ragged imitation of a laugh. Tevis eased him to sit up, but he didn't let go of his hand. "I deserve that," he said. "And for whatever it's worth, I'm sorry. Tell Cayde for me too, huh? I know he took this on himself."

Shiro flinched so violently that for a half a beat, Tevis looked panicked. At first, he registered it as a reaction to the apology - but even after years away, he still knew Shiro better than anyone else alive. The pieces fell into place, and Tevis's grip on his hand tightened. His shoulders set into a stiff line. He locked his jaw and released it just as quickly, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to say what he was thinking. The intent focus in his eyes shifted to sharp desperation. "Where's Cayde?" he asked, and his voice cracked. "There's no way he would've let you come here alone. Not after I…"

He trailed off. Shiro tried to answer, and the words stuck in his throat. Tevis didn't seem to need him to, though. He bowed his head to his chest and took a slow and measured breath. "How?" he forced, through a mouthful of glass.

"Breakout at the Prison of Elders went bad. The Barons got Sundance. Then Uldren Sov executed Cayde."

Tevis's expression turned murderous. "Tell me you killed that bastard."

"The Young Wolf is going to. They were there for his last words. They swore the Vow before I even heard about it."

Tevis pressed his eyes shut. His grip on Shiro's hand would have been bruising if he was anyone else. His breathing was shallow. He tried to say something else, and all he managed was a ragged exhale. "One shot, straight to the chest," Shiro said quietly, in answer to the question he couldn't ask. "He didn't suffer the way Andal did, Tev."

Tevis's shoulders shook and seized back into that tense line. Shiro waited for him to pull away, to fade into nothing, and to take his grief somewhere no one could ever reach, but while Tevis's arms were trembling, his hold on Shiro didn't waver. "Damn it," he choked, and curled in on himself like he was protecting a wound.

Shiro risked a slight tug on their joined hands. Tevis didn't meet his eyes, but he offered no resistance when Shiro pulled him forward, except to refuse to let go. Once they were settled, Tevis rested his forehead against Shiro's shoulder. The pain cascaded through him in waves. He didn't ask for silence, or for Shiro to wrap an arm around him and cradle him close, but Shiro remembered losing Andal, and the agony after, and all the ways they'd broken apart, and in those moments, he'd always known Tevis better than Tevis knew himself.

"Why'd you come here?" Tevis whispered, once his breathing had evened. "The hell were you doing, trying to get yourself killed?"

"I wasn't-"

"Like hell you weren't. You're still complete shit at lying to me."

Shiro dropped his head back against the wall. It hit with a dull, metallic thud. "Don't."

Tevis was quiet for a long beat. "What was your plan?" he asked. "After you saw where I died."

It wasn't a question - not really. Tevis knew the answer already. Shiro said it anyway. "I didn't have one."

"That's not like you."

"Haven't felt like me in a while, anyway."

Tevis considered him a moment, blew out a breath, then carefully leaned backwards to meet Shiro's gaze. "There was something Andal told me, a long time ago," he said. "I was in a bad headspace. You were on a solo run, wasn't anything you knew about. Cayde did his best to help me out of it. Didn't stick. Lush was still too scared of me to try. Andal, though - he followed me up a damn mountain without a word even after I told him to fuck off seventeen different ways, and we sat there for hours. Wasn't until the stars were out that he said anything. He told me I couldn't earn the right to be alive. That I was here, and that was enough. 'You went through hell and survived,' he said, 'and we're glad you did, so stop trying to repent for it.' Never figured out how he knew. But I've never forgotten what he said."

Shiro's chest ached. "Andal was always good at that kind of thing."

Tevis's smile was sad. "Wish he was here for you now. Instead you get me."

"You're more than enough, Tev."

"I'd settle for just enough." Tevis set his jaw. "I want you to get the hell out of here. Go see the stars. Find the Deep Stone Crypt you're always seeing in your dreams. Write your stories. You remember Cayde, and Andal, and me. But you live. You hear me, Shiro? You stay alive."

Tevis searched his eyes for a reaction. Shiro wasn't sure what he found. Wasn't sure what he wanted him to find. Fire rose in his chest, and died all at once. He wanted to run until he collapsed. He didn't think he could bear to move a single step away. "I can't leave you here," he said hoarsely, and every word felt like a knife.

Tevis sighed. Shiro half braced for a scathing retort before he realized there wouldn't be one. "The Garden will kill you if you stay in it long enough," he said. "And I don't mean the Vex. I mean whatever they did to it. It'll pull your mind apart and put it back together wrong. Can't touch me. But I'm not gonna watch it happen to you. You have to go."

He squeezed Shiro's hand. Maybe to comfort. Maybe to ground himself. Years alone in the Garden, surrounded by Vex and cut off from the rest of the universe and from the Light: Tevis had always tolerated most other people with some degree of begrudging acceptance, but that sounded desperately lonely, even for him.

Shiro took a steadying breath. For the first time since he'd heard about Cayde, there was something beyond the wall. Something on the other side of the numb haze. Something he could reach. "I'm going to find a way to bring you home, Tev. I promise."

"Is talking you out of your death wish really that much of a lost cause?"

"Not a death wish. A recovery mission."

Tevis bowed his head for a second. "Make sure they're not the same damn thing," he muttered. "You better not get killed over me."

"I won't. I promise."

Tevis grimaced. "You better not," he repeated, but this time, underneath the exhaustion and the lingering grief, there was a soft note of relief. He dragged Shiro into a tight hug. The tense line of his shoulders relaxed completely.

"How long do you have?" Shiro asked, muffled against his shoulder. "Before you're gone for a while."

Tevis made a tired, considering noise. "Couple hours, maybe. Long enough to get you back to the Gate. Make sure you don't hit trouble."

"Shouldn't we have run into some by now?"

"Usually, sure. But the Vex have me logged as an anomaly. Pretty sure if they see something weird happening where I am, they just assume I caused it. Doesn't mean I'm eager to test the limits on it, though. You razing a few miles of the place probably would have been more than we could play off."

Shiro let him pull away, even if every fiber of his frame ached to hold on. Through it all, Tevis had kept their hands clasped. He used that connection to pull Shiro to his feet. "C'mon," he said. "Patrols are light near the gate right about now. We should get moving."

Shiro picked up Trespasser and followed him back across the Garden. They moved in comfortable silence until they reached the archway that led to the Gate. There, Tevis stopped so suddenly that Shiro stumbled for the force of the arm pulling him back.

"This is as far as I go," Tevis said. "Be careful coming out the other side."

Shiro held up their joined hands. "Forgetting something here?"

Tevis's jaw trembled. He unwound his grip slowly, like Shiro would disappear if he let go too quickly, then flexed his fingers and waved toward the gate like he was shooing Shiro through. "Get out of here," he muttered. The tension was back in his shoulders. He folded his arms across his chest, maybe to brace, or maybe in an effort to seem more like his old self. He just ended up looking miserable.

Shiro closed the small distance between them and dragged him in close. "Hey," Shiro murmured. "I'll come see you when I can, even if I don't have a way to get you out yet."

Tevis's forehead hit his chestplate with a dull thud. "No," he said. "Too risky."

"I wasn't asking, Tev."

Tevis grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and pushed away. Shiro clasped one of his hands between both of his own and squeezed, once. "You'll be okay here on your own until then?"

"Been fine for years," Tevis returned, but his flinch betrayed him. "Just - say goodbye to Cayde for me."

"I will."

Tevis nodded a voiceless thanks. "Remember what I told you, all right?" he said, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "About being alive. Don't get so damn caught up in losing us that you forget we're glad you survived. And don't look back when you leave. Makes it harder."

Beyond them, the gate hummed to life. Shiro squeezed Tevis's hand one more time, then let go, and called on the Light. The arc energy bent around him in a rush. He turned and sprinted for the gate before he could think twice about it.

And if he looked back, just once before he stepped through, it wasn't like Tevis would know.

"I owe you an apology."

Suzume didn't answer him. It wasn't clear if she was just absorbed in parsing all of the scrolling data, or if she was ignoring him. The Iron Temple's workshop rung with her silence. "Suzume," Shiro said gently. "Talk to me?"

Suzume whirled around so suddenly he startled; then she hovered there, unmoving, for a long moment. "Never tell me to stay behind," she said. "And never put yourself at risk like that again. We're a team. Always."

Shiro patted her shell carefully. "I can do that," he said. "And I'm sorry."

"Also, I sent a message to Lord Saladin telling him everything."

"You what? "

"If you're going to do this, someone needs to know in case we get in over our heads. Cayde can't any more, so I asked Saladin." Suzume sounded remarkably matter-of-fact. Shiro almost wanted to be annoyed by it. "He should have received the message as soon as we landed, which means-"

The heavy door of the workshop swung open so quickly and with so much force that it slammed into the wall with a thunderous crash; a spiderweb crack formed in the stone behind it. Saladin strode through like a man surveying a battlefield. As soon as he caught sight of Shiro, his posture relaxed - from Commander to friend.

"I saw your ship in the hangar," Saladin said, coming to a stop at Shiro's side. He glanced over the table strewn with various weapon components, traditional books, stacks of datapads, and star chart projections. "You've been busy."

"You got Suzume's message," Shiro corrected, without looking up.

"That too." Saladin gingerly shifted a pile off the bench next to Shiro, then eased himself down. "I thought I'd find you here. Another reconstruction?"

Trespasser hummed steadily in his hands. "I just did a full rebuild. It doesn't need another one for a while. This was for a modification."

Saladin was quiet for a beat. "Did you find the vengeance you were looking for in the Black Garden?"

Shiro set his weapon aside. "No," he said. "But I'm glad I didn't."

"So am I."

Saladin didn't elaborate. Shiro spared him a glance. "Say what you came here to say."

"I came here to say that I'm glad you're still alive."

Saladin's tone was carefully neutral. Shiro turned to face him fully. "That's all? Even after Suzume's message?"

"You're going to pursue this regardless. I don't see the point in wasting my breath. However, there is a condition to my assistance."

Shiro cast him a wary look. "When I left the workshop before," Saladin started, "I thought that I was giving you the space you needed. That you would go to the City, or to an old hideout, to clear your head. It was only because Suzume transmitted your intended coordinates that I had any idea what you were planning to do, and by then, it was too late. Do not put me in that position again. Having to explain to the Vanguard why I required extraction from the Moon is not an experience I want to repeat."

Shiro started. "You followed me?"

"Not to stop you. Just to make sure that you came back in one piece. I had the unfortunate luck to run into some newly arrived Hive reinforcements - several Tomb ships' worth. They destroyed my ship, and I was never able to make it to the Battlegrounds."

Guilt curled in Shiro's chest like a vice. "I'm sorry," he said. "Are you all right?"

Saladin's hand fell on his shoulder and held tight. "There's no need for an apology. I'm no worse for wear."

Not this time. Next time, he could end up like Eris's fireteam, or one of the countless other Guardians haunting the Moon as a Nightmare. Shiro curled a hand into a fist. "Thank you for coming after me. It - means a lot."

"There's no need for thanks, either."

Shiro huffed a disbelieving laugh. "Can you be less of a pain in the ass for a minute? I'm trying to make amends."

Saladin's mouth curved into a small smile. "There's no need for amends," he said, and shifted his shoulders so his pauldron was toward Shiro to catch the half-hearted shove. "You will always have a home here in the Iron Temple, Shiro. And you will always have friends here, as well. You need only ask."

Warmth bloomed in Shiro's chest. "That's a relief. I thought I might have to kit my ship out to be a living space again."

Saladin arched an eyebrow. "Again?"

"Back when I was running with the pack, Cayde decided he hated the snow. He wouldn't go out in it unless he had full gear, and he wouldn't make camp with the rest of us if it was cold. All he said was it was bringing up memories he didn't understand and wanted to forget. I was the only one with a ship big enough to modify for it, so I did. We all wound up in there on every cold weather assignment afterwards."

"Do the cold and snow bother you as well?"

Shiro shrugged. "Can't really let it bother me when I live on a mountain."

Saladin tilted his head at him. "That wasn't an answer."

"It wasn't meant to be." Shiro paused. "I don't get whole pictures the way Cayde said he did. Just flashes. It's cold. I wake up. Something's wrong but I never know what. I feel like I have to get out, but there's nothing to run from. Maybe it's got something to do with the Crypt. Maybe it's something some other version of me went through. Maybe deep down, I just hate the way snow feels."

That earned him a soft chuckle. "Come with me," Saladin said, pushing himself to stand. "We'll light a torch in Cayde's honor. And you can tell me more about your pack."

Shiro stood to follow him. Trespasser was a steady weight in his palm. The modified core pulsed its new rhythm. Saladin glanced down at it, then back up at Shiro. "You never told me what you changed."

"I gave it a new charge distribution. It'll make the bursts more powerful."

"Are you going to give it a name?"

Shiro remembered the steady weight of Tevis's hand in own, of Andal's arm slung around his shoulders, of Cayde hanging off his back. He remembered the warmth of their smiles and the sound of their laughter and the simple peace of their presence. "I already did," he said, and the ache in his chest hurt a little less. "Unrepentant."