#shattered reflections duo

[savior-of-the-ink]

@flowers-of-io I'm once again proposing: Italian Savathûn

My OG Destiny bestie carried me through the Pale Heart the other day and I got the Savathûn's and Witness's memory dialogue and I guess I'm traumatized for life now

Here's the clip, appreciate some Italian voice acting now that is good:

[magnoliasandarson]

giver

Dick Grayson loves his siblings, but he's never quite sure to what degree that love is returned.

It would be fair for them not to love him. He has messed up more than his fair share over the years, spectacularly shattering trust, destroying bridges, and failing to make amends. He sees his mistakes reflected in their eyes every time they back away from a hug.

It kills him a little, feeling them pull away from him.

Each of his siblings has had a point where he was their favorite. They would gravitate to him at family gatherings, linger with him during team-ups, and turn his apartment into a pillow fort. He should've held on tighter during those times, should've never let them slip away.

He spends weeks planning their Christmas presents. They have to be perfect- it took guilt and outright bribery to ensure everyone would be at the Manor. It stung when Stephanie and Tim ignored his calls, almost as much as Jason slamming the door in his face. They all came around eventually, and Dick had to show them all how much he cared.

He started with Damian, simply because the boy never left his mind these days. It had been hard to walk away when Bruce came back, even harder not to run back and snatch up the kid every day since. Dick found the newspaper from the first night they went out as a duo, complete with a glossy picture of them on a rooftop. It was carefully framed and placed on top of a small stack of sketchbooks and watercolors. Dick tried to forget all of the art shows he had missed recently.

Duke received a new pack of trading cards and every article that spoke positively of the "We Are Robin" movement. In a moment of extreme sentimentality, he wrote a letter explaining what Robin meant to his family and just how proud he was of Duke for turning a family name into a wave of change for the city. Dick tried to forget how angry he had once been to see the child army running the streets.

Stephanie was easy enough, he interfered as Detective Grayson and got rid of her parking tickets. Well, that, and he interviewed people that had come forward after being saved by Spoiler, and recorded all of them explaining how they would never forget their hero. He compiled all of the recordings onto a modified comm, so if she ever felt doubt on patrol, she could be reminded of all the good she has done. Dick tried to forget how he had joined Bruce in trying to run her off when she briefly took up the Robin mantle.

Cass received new pointe shoes, complete with shiny pink ribbon, and a stack of cards Dick had collected from the Gotham Center for Deaf Children. Before Orphan and Black Bat, there had never really been a signing hero in Gotham. She gave them someone to admire, and Dick thought she should know. He placed the delicate shoes on top of the cards, and tried to forget how many of her performances he had skipped.

Tim... Dick could never apologize in any way that would matter to him. He stared at a row of cameras in a store and wondered when was the last time he had actually seen Tim take a picture. It had been his passion for so long... Had the boy outgrown it or had their lifestyle forced him to abandon it? Dick was determined that either way, his brother deserved joy, so he picked one Wally recommended and carefully stenciled the Red Robin logo onto the lens cover. Dick tried to forget how Tim couldn't stand to be in a room alone with him anymore.

Jason. His Little Wing made him want to weep. He went through hours of footage from his old camera, videos of the first time they went train surfing together, when he taught Jason to fly, when Jason taught him to skateboard- all from years ago. He sat in his apartment for hours, hating himself for realizing he doesn't truly know his brother anymore. He ends up breaking into Jason's place. The day after that, he has a large box filled with leather bound versions of all the paperbacks Jason had lying around. He attempted to read some of them, but landed on making little bookmarks for his brother, each with some little inside joke on it. Dick did all of that and tried to forget that his brother didn't think they were family anymore.

December 23rd, he loads all of the gifts into his shitty truck and wonders if any of them will get him anything.

It would be fair if they didn't, though.

[xolandonorris]

DID I CROSS THE LINE? — CARLOS SAINZ/CHARLES LECLERC

MASTERLIST

summary: charles is dating carlos’ ex-girlfriend, causing him to feel guilty despite knowing she truly does love him

The roar of the Formula One engines grew louder as Charles Leclerc tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. His focus remained unwavering, eyes darting between the track and the rearview mirror. The scent of burning rubber filled the cockpit, mingling with the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. It was another typical race weekend, but his thoughts drifted to the unexpected turn his life had taken off the track.

In the bustling paddock, the tension between Charles and his once-close friend Carlos Sainz was palpable. The two drivers had been a dynamic duo, pushing each other to new heights in their racing careers. But the friendship had taken a sharp turn when Carlos's ex-girlfriend, the stunning YN LN, had found comfort in Charles's arms. It was a line that Charles knew he shouldn't have crossed, yet he couldn't deny the connection he felt with her.

The paparazzi had caught wind of the new couple and were eager to snap photos of them together. The flashes of cameras and the murmurs of the crowd grew louder as YN, an accomplished actress, made her way through the sea of people towards Charles. Her smile was forced, her eyes glancing over her shoulder, searching for the familiar face of her ex. Carlos, who was signing autographs nearby, noticed and his jaw tightened. The sight of them together stung, a stark reminder of what he had lost.

In the post-race press conference, a journalist, sensing the tension, decided to stir the pot. "Charles, how do you feel about dating Carlos's ex? Does it affect your friendship and your on-track rivalry?" The room grew still as the microphone was shoved in front of him. He took a deep breath, trying to compose his thoughts. "Carlos and I are professionals. What happens off the track stays there. As for YN, she's a wonderful person, and we're happy together. That's all I have to say on the matter." His voice remained steady, but the guilt gnawed at him.

Carlos's eyes bore into him from across the room, the weight of his gaze like a heavy burden. The truth was, their breakup had been amicable. YN had wanted the fairy tale, the house, the kids. But Carlos had been clear, his career was his priority. He needed more time. It was a conversation they had had many times, each time ending in the same place. "I'm not ready to settle down," he'd say, his eyes on the horizon, dreams of checkered flags dancing in his vision. YN, tired of waiting, had made the painful decision to move on.

The night of the breakup, she had called Charles, her voice trembling with sobs. He had rushed to her side, a knight in shining armor, ready to mend her shattered heart. They had talked for hours, shared laughs, and slowly, the cracks began to fill. Before they knew it, they had found solace in each other's arms. It was a moment of comfort that had evolved into something more, and by July, they were inseparable.

Now, in the quiet of his hotel room, Charles studied his reflection in the mirror. "Did I cross the line?" He whispered to himself. The question echoed, taunting him like the ghost of his friendship with Carlos. He knew he had been the one to hold her when she was at her lowest, but was that enough to justify his actions?

The relationship with YN had been a whirlwind, a blur of love and passion that had swept them both off their feet. But every touch, every whispered secret, every shared smile was haunted by the shadow of their past. He knew that YN loved him, she had said it countless times, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was just a rebound, a Band-Aid on a wound that hadn't fully healed.

On the track, their rivalry had intensified, each race a silent battleground for their bruised egos. The camaraderie they had once shared was replaced by a tense silence that spoke louder than words. The pit crew noticed the shift, the team management whispered about it in hushed tones, but no one dared to address the elephant in the room.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice session, Charles found himself unable to shake off the weight of his conscience. He decided to confront Carlos, hoping to clear the air and perhaps salvage what was left of their friendship. He knocked on the door to Carlos's hotel suite, his heart racing like an engine at full throttle.

Carlos opened the door, his expression unreadable. He stepped aside, allowing Charles to enter. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn, and the air was thick with unspoken words. They sat down on the couch, the space between them as vast as the distance between the starting line and the finish.

"Look, Carlos," Charles began, his voice strained, "I know this isn't ideal. But I want you to know, I never meant to hurt you. It just happened." He paused, searching for the right words to express his regret without sounding insincere. "YN needed someone, and I was there for her. I didn't plan for it to turn into this."

Carlos stared at the floor, his jaw clenched tight. "I get it," he said, his voice low and measured. "But you were my best friend, my confidant. And now, every time I see you together, it's like you're flaunting it in my face." He took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. "I can't ignore the fact that you're with her."

The silence that followed was as deafening as the roar of the engines they were accustomed to. Each man grappled with his own feelings of betrayal and guilt. "I'm sorry, Carlos," Charles finally murmured. "I truly am. But I've fallen in love with her, and I can't just turn it off."

Carlos looked up, his eyes brimming with a mix of anger and pain. "Love doesn't just happen overnight, Charles," he said, his voice cracking. "You were there when she needed you, I get that. But what about our friendship? Did that mean nothing to you?"

Charles swallowed hard, the lump in his throat feeling like a brick. "It meant everything," he replied solemnly. "But love... it doesn't come with a manual, you know? It just happens." He paused, his gaze shifting to the floor, avoiding the accusation in Carlos's eyes. "I didn't intend for this to come between us."

Carlos let out a bitter laugh. "Too late for that, isn't it?" He stood up, pacing the room. "You know what the worst part is?" He stopped, turning to face Charles. "It's that every time she laughs at your jokes, every time she looks at you like you hung the moon, I can't help but wonder if she ever looked at me that way."

The room grew colder, the weight of their words hanging heavy in the air. "I know it's not fair," Charles admitted, "but I can't change the way I feel."

Carlos' pacing grew more agitated, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "And what about how I feel?" he snapped. "What about the friendship we had?"

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know it's messed up, Carlos. But I didn't set out to hurt you."

"But you did," Carlos said, his voice raw. "And now you expect me to just accept it?"

"I'm not asking you to," Charles replied, his voice heavy with regret. "I just wanted you to know that I'm aware of the situation. And that I'm sorry."

Carlos leaned against the wall, his eyes never leaving Charles. "Sorry isn't enough, man," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. "You didn't just date my ex. You dated the woman I introduced you to, the woman I talked about for months. How can I trust you after that?"

The words hung in the air, sharp as shattered glass. Charles felt the sting, his heart racing as he searched for a way to respond. He knew that nothing he said could undo the damage, but he had to try. "I understand," he began slowly. "But sometimes things happen, and people change. I didn't plan for this, and I never meant for it to come between us."

Carlos' gaze was unyielding. "Maybe not," he conceded, "but it did. And now, every time we're on the track together, every time we're in the same room, it's all I can think about. You're not just my rival on the circuit anymore, you're the guy who stole my girl."

The accusation hit Charles like a blow to the chest. He had never seen Carlos so vulnerable, so broken. The reality of the situation crashed down on him, and he realized that their friendship might never be the same. "I didn't steal her, Carlos," he said, his voice a mix of sadness and frustration. "We both know she didn't belong to anyone."

Carlos' eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, it seemed as if he might lash out. Instead, he took a deep breath and composed himself. "Maybe not," he said, his voice tight. "But you should have had more respect for what we had. For what she and I had."

"I did," Charles protested. "I still do. But love doesn't come with rules or boundaries. It's not something you can control."

Carlos' eyes searched his, looking for any hint of dishonesty. After a long moment, he nodded. "Maybe not," he conceded, the anger slowly dissipating. "But you could have talked to me about it. You could have given me a heads up, instead of letting me find out through the grapevine."

"I know," Charles said, his voice thick with regret. "I was afraid of losing you. I didn't know how to tell you."

Carlos rubbed his temples, the exhaustion of the day's practice etched on his face. "Well, now you know," he said, his voice a mix of resignation and anger. "You can't just expect us to go back to the way things were, not after this."

"I know," Charles said softly. "But I'm here, and I'm willing to work on it. We're still teammates, we still have a job to do."

Carlos sighed heavily. "Yeah, we do," he agreed. "But it's not going to be easy."

"I know," Charles nodded solemnly. "But we're professional drivers, we deal with pressure all the time. We can handle this."

Carlos looked at him skeptically. "Can we, though?" He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving Charles. "Or is this going to turn into a circus every time we're together?"

"I'll do everything I can to make sure it doesn't," Charles promised, his voice earnest. "We're both adults, and we can't let our personal lives affect our performance."

"But it already has," Carlos pointed out. "Our relationship has changed, and there's no going back."

"I know," Charles said, his voice heavy with understanding. "But we can't let it ruin our season, our careers."

Carlos nodded slowly, the tension in the room loosening slightly. "Okay," he said, "but you need to know that this isn't going to be easy for me. Every time I see you two together, it's going to be a reminder."

"I understand," Charles said, his eyes never leaving Carlos’. "I'll do my best to respect that."

The two men sat in silence for a while, the tension in the room slowly dissipating like the smoke from an extinguished flame. They both knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, both on and off the track. But as professional athletes, they had been taught to channel their emotions into their performance, to push through the pain and come out stronger on the other side.

The following day, as they suited up for the next race, the air between them remained thick with unspoken words. They acknowledged each other with curt nods, the once warm camaraderie replaced by a chilly formality. The team watched them warily, aware that the dynamics had shifted.

The race was tense, each pass on the track a silent battle of wills. The rivalry that had once fueled their competitive spirits now had a personal edge, each man pushing harder to prove his worth. The cars screamed around the circuit, the smell of burning rubber a constant reminder of the fiery situation they had found themselves in.

As the laps ticked by, it was clear that both drivers were holding back, neither willing to take the risk of an on-track clash. The team's strategists watched nervously from the pit wall, their headsets crackling with tension. They knew that the situation between their two star drivers was delicate, and they couldn't afford any distractions in the final stretch of the season.

After the race, the usual post-race banter was replaced by a cold silence as they stepped out of their cars. The podium was a minefield of forced smiles and awkward glances. The cameras clicked away, capturing the strained dynamic for the world to see. The media was eager to pounce on the drama, but both men remained tight-lipped, focusing on their respective finishes rather than their personal lives.

The weeks turned into months, and the season rolled on. The tension between Carlos and Charles remained a constant, a silent storm that rumbled just beneath the surface. They were civil to each other, but the ease of their former friendship was gone, replaced by a formality that was as stifling as it was necessary. YN, caught in the middle, tried to navigate the choppy waters, but the weight of the situation was taking its toll on her.

During a particularly intense training session, the tension finally boiled over. As they sped around the track, neck and neck, their rivalry spilled over into something more personal. A risky move by Charles sent Carlos's car spinning out, narrowly avoiding a catastrophic accident. The track fell silent, save for the screech of tires and the collective gasp of the onlooking team. The two drivers pulled over, climbing out of their vehicles, the air between them charged with anger.

"What the hell was that?" Carlos shouted, storming over to Charles.

"It was just a mistake, Carlos," Charles replied, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

"A mistake?" Carlos's eyes narrowed. "Or was it something more?" He took a step closer, the heat of his anger palpable. "You've had it out for me since you started dating her."

"That's not true," Charles protested, holding up his hands. "This isn't about YN. This is racing."

"Is it?" Carlos spat back. "Or is it about you trying to prove you're better than me in every aspect of life?"

Their team manager, sensing the impending explosion, rushed over to intervene. "Guys, guys," he said, his voice firm but calm. "This isn't the time or the place."

Charles took a deep breath, his hands balled into fists. "You're right," he said, his voice tight. "But we need to talk about this."

"Talk?" Carlos's voice was incredulous. "We've been talking for months, and where has it gotten us?"

"We haven't really talked," Charles corrected, his eyes never leaving Carlos’. "We've been avoiding it. But maybe it's time we faced this head-on."

Carlos stared at him, the anger in his eyes slowly morphing into something resembling resentment. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Let's talk."

They made their way back to the garage, the weight of their conversation following them like a dark cloud. As they approached, they saw YN waiting for them, her eyes wide with concern. She had watched the incident unfold on the TV screens scattered around the paddock. Her heart had been in her throat as she saw the cars spin out, and the tension between them was as palpable as the humidity in the air.

"Guys, are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"We're fine," Charles assured her, though the tension was still thick as they entered the garage. Fred, the team manager, ushered them into a private office, closing the door firmly behind them.

"This needs to stop," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and concern. "You two are tearing the team apart, and it's affecting everyone. We can't have this kind of drama going into the final races of the season."

Fred’s words hung in the air as Carlos and Charles stared at each other across the small table. The walls of the office were adorned with trophies and team photos, a stark reminder of the camaraderie that once existed between them. They took their seats, the leather squeaking under their racing suits, and took a moment to collect their thoughts.

"I never meant for it to come to this," Charles began, his eyes earnest. "I respect you, Carlos. You're one of the best drivers out there, and I've learned so much from you."

"But apparently not enough to respect my relationship," Carlos retorted, the bitterness still present in his tone.

YN looked from one to the other, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "This isn't just about me," she said softly. "It's about what you two had, what you still have. A friendship that was strong enough to survive anything, until..." She trailed off, her voice breaking.

Carlos's gaze softened as he took in her distress. "We'll figure it out," he assured her, though the doubt was clear in his eyes.

"We have to," Charles added, his voice firm. "We can't let this ruin what we've built."

Fred nodded, his expression stern. "You're both right. This isn't just about you two anymore. It's about the team, the fans, and the championship. We can't afford any more distractions."

Carlos leaned back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. "So what do we do?"

"We focus on the championship," Charles said, his eyes never leaving Carlos's. "We put our personal feelings aside and work together as teammates."

"And what about after?" Carlos asked, the bitterness not entirely gone from his voice.

"After?" Charles echoed, the question hanging in the air like the scent of gasoline and burnt rubber that permeated the garage.

Fred cleared his throat. "One race at a time," he said, his voice firm. "We've got a job to do, and we need to do it together. That's what being a team is all about."

They both nodded in agreement, the gravity of the situation setting in. The rest of the season was crucial, and their personal issues could not overshadow their shared goal. The air in the office was thick with unspoken words, but the understanding was clear: they would have to find a way to coexist for the sake of their careers.

Fred stepped out, giving them the space to continue their conversation in private. The door clicked shut, leaving the echo of their racing hearts and the distant hum of the team bustling outside the walls. YN looked from Carlos to Charles, her eyes pleading for a resolution that would mend the fissure in their friendship.

"Look," Charles said, his voice measured and calm. "I know I screwed up. I should've talked to you before things went this far with YN. But I didn't, and I can't change that now."

Carlos' jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt. He knew Charles was right. The silence grew heavy, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall, reminding them of the time they had wasted on anger and misunderstanding.

"I get it," Carlos finally said, his voice a little less strained. "But you have to understand, it's not just about the past. It's about trust. And that's something that takes time to rebuild."

"I know," Charles agreed. "And I'm willing to give it time. To earn it back." He reached out his hand, a gesture of peace and reconciliation.

Carlos studied it for a moment before taking it firmly in his own. "Okay," he said, his voice gruff. "For now, let's focus on the championship. We'll deal with the rest after the season."

They shook hands, the gesture feeling foreign and forced. The friendship they had once shared was now a battlefield of unspoken words and bruised egos. As they left the office, the team looked at them with a mix of relief and apprehension. They knew the peace was fragile, but for now, it was enough to keep the engine of their professional partnership running.

The final races of the season were a whirlwind of speed and strategy, each victory and defeat a reflection of their personal turmoil. Yet, on the track, they pushed aside their issues, working together to secure points for the team. The rivalry was still there, but it had been overshadowed by something deeper, something that went beyond the competition of who could go faster and who could win more races.

As the final race approached, the tension was palpable. The championship was within their grasp, but so was the reality that their friendship might never fully recover. They had agreed to put their personal feelings aside for the sake of the team, but the scars remained, raw and unhealed.

In the days leading up to the grand finale, they were forced to face each other in interviews, in team meetings, and on the track. Each interaction was a dance of diplomacy, a tightrope walk of professionalism. They were like two fighters in the final round, each waiting for the other to slip up, revealing the pain beneath the surface.

The final race was a nail-biter. The stands were a blur of colors and noise, the air electric with excitement and anticipation. The crowd didn't know the full story, but they could feel the tension between the two drivers. The race was a strategic chess match, each move calculated to outwit the other. As the laps counted down, the gap between them grew smaller, the tension grew tauter.

The final lap approached, and Carlos made a bold move, trying to overtake Charles. The cars danced together, a dance of speed and power. The crowd held its breath as they saw the cars touch, sparks flying. But instead of anger, there was a silent understanding between them. They both knew the stakes were high, not just for the championship, but for their friendship.

With one last push, Carlos managed to edge ahead, crossing the finish line with a lead so narrow it was almost invisible. The cheers of the crowd engulfed the circuit, but the two drivers remained focused on the bigger prize: their friendship. They slowed down, both cars coming to a halt just after the finish line.

The moment was frozen in time as they sat in their cockpits, eyes locked, both knowing the gravity of the situation. Then, almost simultaneously, they unbuckled their harnesses and climbed out of their cars. They met in the middle of the track, the roar of the engines replaced by the sound of their own hearts beating.

Without a word, Carlos walked over to Charles and offered his hand. Charles took it, and they share a firm handshake, a silent acknowledgment of the respect they had for each other as competitors and the understanding that their friendship was worth fighting for. The camaraderie they once shared was a ghost of what it had been, but in that moment, it flickered back to life.

The podium ceremony was a mix of jubilation and tension. The flashes of cameras and the spray of champagne couldn't hide the unspoken words between them. Yet, they managed to keep their composure, the weight of their friendship hanging in the balance as they took their positions.

As Carlos raised the trophy, his eyes found YN in the crowd. She was watching, a proud smile on her face, and for a brief moment, the pain of the past seemed to recede. He knew that she was happy for him, and that was enough.

When they finally stepped down from the podium, the sound of their names echoing through the circuit, YN rushed towards them. She didn't bother with the formalities, didn't stop to consider the cameras or the media frenzy surrounding them. She threw her arms around both of them, her eyes shining with love and relief.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered in Charles's ear, and he felt a weight lift from his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured, his eyes never leaving Carlos'

The three of them stood there, an awkward trio at the center of the world's gaze, their hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of the engines that had brought them together and pushed them apart.

"You both need to get ready for the press," a team official reminded them, breaking the moment.

Reluctantly, they released their embrace, the tension still visible in their stances. The press conference was a minefield of questions about their relationship and the impact on the team dynamics. They each took their seats, the podium a stark reminder of their unspoken feud.

"First of all, congratulations to both of you on a hard-fought season," the first journalist began. "Can you comment on the rumors surrounding your friendship and how it affected your performance on the track?"

Carlos took a deep breath, his grip on the podium tightening. "Our rivalry is on the track," he said firmly. "Our friendship is personal. We've had our differences, but we're professionals. We've managed to keep it from affecting our performance."

Charles nodded in agreement, his gaze flickering to YN, who gave him an encouraging smile. "What Carlos said," he added. "We're here to race, and that's what we've done."

The press conference continued, with questions veering between the professional and the personal. The tension between the two drivers was a palpable undercurrent, but they remained composed, sticking to their agreed-upon narrative. The season had taken a toll, but they had come through it together, if not entirely unscathed, then at least with the appearance of unity.

As the final question was asked, Fred gave them a subtle nod, signaling it was time to wrap up. They stood, the weight of their podium finishes heavy on their shoulders, and made their way through the throng of journalists and photographers, back to the sanctity of the paddock. The adrenaline from the race was wearing off, replaced by a sense of exhaustion that went beyond physical fatigue.

And then, as fate would have it, Carlos's path crossed with YN's. She was waiting for Charles, her eyes searching the crowd for her partner. The moment their eyes met, the air grew thick with the unspoken words that had been building for months. YN looked at him, her expression a mix of sadness and hope. He knew she had been caught in the middle, and he felt a pang of regret for the pain he had caused her.

"Hey," Carlos said, his voice low.

YN's eyes searched his, looking for a hint of the warmth that used to be there. "Hi," she replied, her voice tentative.

"I know things are complicated," Carlos began, his voice sincere. "But I want you to know that I'm happy for you."

YN's eyes widened in surprise, a single tear escaping down her cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"And I'm sorry," Carlos continued, his gaze never leaving hers. "I know I haven't made it easy for you."

YN took a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "It's okay," she said, her voice a little shaky. "We all make mistakes."

The air was tense as Carlos nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. It was a small step, but it felt like a monumental leap in the right direction. The weight of the past was still there, but perhaps, just perhaps, it was starting to shift.

As the season came to a close, the trio found themselves at a crossroads. The championship had been won, but the cost was high. The friendship that had once been the bedrock of their lives together was now a delicate, fractured thing, held together by the thinnest of threads.

The off-season was a blur of press tours and sponsor appearances. They were forced to spend time together, to smile for the cameras, to play the part of the united team. But the cracks were there, visible to anyone who knew where to look. The jovial banter had been replaced by strained politeness, the easy camaraderie by a tension that stretched tight as a bowstring.

During a promotional event in Monaco, they found themselves sharing a stage with YN, who had been invited as a special guest. The atmosphere was electric, the air thick with the scent of the sea and the anticipation of what might happen next. As they talked about the season, the highs and lows, their eyes kept darting to her, the unspoken tension a tangible force field between them.

"And what about the rumors about your love life?" a journalist asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

YN's gaze shifted from Charles to Carlos, and she took a deep breath before speaking. "Our relationship is private, but I will say this: We're all adults here. We've moved on, and we're focusing on our careers."

Her words were like a balm on the tension, though it was clear the wound was far from healed. They finished the event with the grace of seasoned professionals, but as soon as the lights dimmed and the stage cleared, the tension between the two drivers was palpable.

YN and Charles slipped away from the bustling crowd, the cobblestone streets of Monaco whispering their secrets as they walked hand in hand. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "I love you," she said, her grip tightening.

Charles felt the weight of her words, the sincerity in her voice. He knew she meant it, but the guilt of their shared past with Carlos was a specter that hovered between them. He squeezed her hands back, his heart aching with the knowledge that their happiness was built on the ruins of his friendship. "I love you too," he responded, his voice thick with emotion.

As they strolled along the Monaco harbor, the yachts bobbing gently in the moonlit waters, YN took a moment to look at him, really look at him. "I just want you to know that," she repeated, her eyes searching his. "No matter what happens, I choose you. And I know you feel guilty, but it's not your fault that Carlos and I didn't work out."

Charles nodded, trying to hold onto her words like a lifeline. "I know you do," he murmured, his eyes reflecting the myriad of emotions swirling inside him. "But I can't help but wonder if things would be different if I hadn't..." He trailed off, not wanting to voice the thought that had been haunting him for months.

YN stopped walking and turned to face him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. "You didn't cause our breakup, Charles. We had issues long before you came into the picture. And I'm happy now. We're happy."

Her words resonated within him, but the doubt remained, a persistent whisper in his ear. They continued walking, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the deserted streets. The moon cast a soft glow over the yachts, their reflection dancing on the calm waters.

"I know," Charles said, his voice barely above a murmur. "But I can't help but feel like I've taken something from him that I had no right to."

YN's gaze softened. "You didn't take anything, Charles. We found each other, and we fell in love. That's not a crime."

"But the way it happened," he said, his voice laced with guilt. "It feels like I stole something precious from him."

YN searched his eyes, understanding the depth of his feelings. "Sometimes, things just don't work out," she said gently. "We can't control who we fall in love with."

Charles knew YN was right. He didnt need her to remind him she loved him but deep down he could still see Carlos in the back of his mind.

[glassesfreekjr]

Can we analyse Tulin for a bit?

Apart from being the keet birb boy, perhaps what makes his character so enthralling is how it so brilliantly reflects and offers commentary on the influences that have shaped him.

Whether that be Revali, his father Teba, and ESPECIALLY Link. Hell, it's no wonder that Link & Tulin have garnered such a sibling dynamic. Tulin essentially IS Link, from a time before the burden of responsibility and pain caused Link to cave in on himself pre-Breath of the Wild.

Right down to the veteran warrior father figure (Link's father was captain of the guard) and their acceptance of a newfound legacy out of forthright integrity. Tulin, at this point in his life, has yet to give himself away until there's nothing of him left to give, and let's pray he never needs to.

But Tulin would do that in a heartbeat, if called upon. He is very much his father's son.

You can see it in how archtypical childish spunk is tempered, like steel, by Teba's down-to-earth bluntness and sheer work ethic.

(BTW I wonder if Link sees his own father in Teba? That'd check out.)

But what caught me most pleasantly off-guard is Tulin's skepticism, which has become one of his most compelling traits for me. It's not something you would expect.

He did not believe that the Stormwind Ark existed, and while ultimately proven wrong, it frankly wasn't an illogical assumption to make. Tulin clearly thought through that opinion. He'd also grown frustrated that the Rito placed their faith on a songbook miracle — a eucatastrophe, if you will — instead of something more concrete like personal skill or, say, Link's whole-ass existence.

The second Link arrived and offered his aid, Tulin accepted his help without hesitation. He turned his skepticism inward to reevaluate his own tenets. And it's as a duo that they brought about said eucatastrophe through no one's strength but their own. They are siblings, Your Honor. Aryll 2.0

(If Revali had been blessed with a support network saying "it's okay to accept help. no man is an island," doubtless he still would have perished in Vah Medoh. But there would be less of an ego to shatter. He would have faced death with less blind panic and more dignity. And most importantly, he'd have other people to bolster the wind beneath his wings during his short life. (At the very least, Revali would not have as big an ass not be as big an ass, just as Tulin would be a different person without his family.)

dammit quaquaval you have RUINED me

Also, one thing that everyone seems to miss is just how deceptively intelligent Tulin turns out to be. This kid fuckin' knows his stuff. His mastery of aerodynamics beyond the instinctual is almost on par with Revali at such a young age. And how many precision headshots has his avatar saved your ass with, don't lie.

He somehow managed to follow his father back through time. Tulin can see Koroks.

It's not the same kind of passion-fuelled intellect as, say, Zelda has. More of an unyeilding conviction to learn all he can and put it into practice. About as understated a quality as Yunobo's inexplicable business acumen and economic sense.

As his mother Saki put it, for Tulin to develop as an individual, he needs to experience more of reality and its hardships. Shooting bullseyes and improving one's flying prowess / wind magic can't contend with genuine combat. True to her word, Tulin had to experience mistakes firsthand, and critically examine his own naïve ways of thinking in order to take those necessary steps.

...

So then, uh, is it wrong for me to wish something horrible upon him, if only to witness the positive character growth that springs from it? Tulin isn't the sort who'll shatter under pressure, like Revali did at the end of his life, or like Link did under the weight of expectation. Buckle, yes — but not break. Tulin's steadfast conviction, inherited from his father and guided by the people he loves, would assuredly see him through.

In any event, his Hero's Journey isn't close to over. I'd be curious to see Tulin at its conclusion.

tl;dr I wanna Emesis Blue his bitch-ass, AITA?

[moonyinpisces]

Hey I probably totally could’ve just left this as a comment on ao3 but I’ve had the browser closed for about a few hours at the point after reading the newest update (and I’m kinda afraid to reopen it back to the fic,) with 30 minutes immediately proceeding reading it spent laying exactly where I had been up into the ceiling and simply reflecting. It hasn’t left my mind since.

Oh. My. God.

Whenever this fic updates, for the last like 5 chapters I somehow unknowingly have this sudden compulsion to go and see if it had updated recently, and just happen to have this thought occur on the exact day or day after you update again. Never in my life have a read a fic so so so so good that I have a sneaking suspicion that the universe itself is somehow leading me back to read it.

Ever since I was lucky enough to happen to find a rec of it somewhere updated around the 7th chapter (and proceeded to spend the entire day, from around 10am to 8pm reading the entire posted story, only breaking for a single microwaved meal and completely forgetting to ever bake my bread dough I had prepared before knowing my life would be altered) I have genuinely held more thought for this fic than anything else I’ve ever read.

I have laughed aloud. I have exclaimed and yelled at them through the goddamn screen. I have genuinely sobbed more times than I’d like to ever admit (a bit more for these for the last few, and for this most recent update…… 😬😬😬 let’s just say it was a rough time in a wonderful brilliant way.) Never before has a fic affected me so so so so so so so so so much.

Speaking of the fic itself, mentioned appallingly late in my message of absolute adoration for your writing, I think it is the most well written piece of media that I have ever read. Yes, that genuinely includes the original Good Omens book, which ranks at a close second. Every single character you write is absolutely three dimensional and genuinely sososososos interesting, like an entire world of their own. One of my favorite things is your imagined progression of characters like Adam from when we see them in the show to this current timeline. Older Adam’s personality just seems so…. right?)??????? And of course, our main duo and their evolution throughout the course of the story. The in-depth progression of their characters, relationship, and understanding (both of themselves, each other, and the readers understanding of each of them) is absolutely stunning.

Actually, that might be an understatement. I could use a near infinite amount of words: jaw-dropping, beautiful, stellar- but none of them would be able to truly express how absolutely wordless and indescribable (perhaps the closest one could say would be ineffable?) the absolute wonderfulnessnof your ability in that regard is. That, combined with your absolutely intricately woven plot constantly leaves me both simultaneously shattered and forfilled and joyous and devastated at every twist and turn.

That combined with your word choice and structural ability? You not only know how to weave marvelous concepts and ideas but write and execute them absolutely flawlessly.I remember after the last update with Things Kinda Beginnjng To Fall Apart in chapter 19 where as times gets more choppy and everything gets more distorted, the small details leading up to the bigger ones worked perfectly to create slight confusion yet not outright “wait this is wrong” before things seemed to click, just eerily getting more and more off. Do you know how smooth that transition has to be for me to not outright stop to question when Aziraphale says to Crowley “you should get a car” and Crowley’s like “Nuh uh, death traps” and just feel extremely uneasy and yet have absolutely no waver in continuing to lead??? And all ending up to Dogs grave and where everything super MEGA wrong and so much time is gone and kwcwlcwivekckdck!???????! I know I’m just reciting your OWN plot back to you but point is THE WIRITJNG WAS GENUINELY SOSOSOSO AMAZING

What really made me really finally write this after the hours spent reflecting on this fic was the most recent update. I have genuinely been unable to stop thinking about it since the last update, and I just. My heart is broken and yet I’m the lightest I’ve ever been with the ending, even if I’m still recovering from the rest. My heart genuinely broke slowly more and more as I realized Aziraphale was Highkey RIGHT and reflecting more and more while reading about how even though Crowley doing everything to save him in the end it’s just kinda spending the little ttime they have apart and???))) I totally understand him and his desperation but at the same time I wanted to SHAKE him just like I imagine Aziraphale kinda wanted to at times to open up his eyes from the tunnel vision!!!!

The gloves??????????? And the market????? And the COTTAGE?!)))!?????? I know I’m just causing things that have happened but every single thing that happens in this chapter is just so major and so so so sososos evocative and I can literally visualize literally everything in my head which is so hard to do sometimes with my autism. And I can see it all sososossososo clearly which is genuinely something I can never do.

I cannot describe to you the tenseness and despair and bitter sweetness (however one would experience/react to bittersweetness? Not sure of the word) that I felt as the time slowly ticked down in the very final stretch, when they finally were able to just spend the time they had left together OTGHETER (not to mention Aziraphale KNOWING that he will come back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) that I felt leading up to the midnight bell. I genuinely had my phone in one hand and the collar of my shirt bunched up in the other to continue to wipe away the constant watery tears that threatened and blurred my eyes to prevent me from reading (which I refused to let deter me even for a SECOND) as they said their goodbyes before MURIEL COMES IN WITH THE (metaphorical) STEEL CHAIR!!!!!!!!!!

And the sudden shift wasn’t jarring in any bad way and I literally started pumping my fist in the air in an empty room and cheering YEAHHH LETS GOGOGOOOOOO LET S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO when Muriel came in for the win. And the shift to hope? To joy? To the familiar lightheartedness and determination that they’d lacked in the face of something so grave for so long???????? You have set things up for the absolute most rewarding turn and fight back to the finish that I’ve ever read. After chapters of setting up the stakes, of making everything (in the best way) so incredibly hopeless and dark and dreary and unbeatable and intimate and lovely, the catharsis of the relief of FINALLY having their fate in their hands again and that fighting chance (quite literally now) has been one of the most amazing feelings ever.

I am being literally so genuine when I say I don’t even think I felt this strongly watching the final fifteen in the actual for the first time. I’m so so so so excited and ready for the next update and to be able to finally cheer for them again as a kickass team, a group, a group of the two of them (+Muriel my beloved) to save the goddamn universe AGAIN!!!!!! I’m so so so excited for some straight up action (as much as I’ve absolutely enjoyed getting my heart ripped out and stomped on for the last few chapters, and the decisive business and bold decisions before those) and genuinely can’t wait to see what these upcoming final two chapters bring 🫶🫶🫶 thank you sososossooso much for writing that absolutely wonderful piece that will haunt me for years to come and be solidified as one of the best works I’ve read not just in fanfiction, but ever.

oh my god. sorry i've been sitting on this several days, i actually read it pretty much immediately and have been routinely rereading it over and over this entire week. from the bottom of my heart, thank you SO much for your kind words and for your enjoyment of hdwtotl. you taking the time out of your day to write this just to let me know you're enjoying the story is unreal, i cannot express enough how much i appreciate you and probably the nicest words i've ever heard from anyone regarding my writing. the fact that this feels like a faithful continuation of the canon is nothing less than an honor. i really feel like all the sleepless nights and weekends full of writing and rewrite after rewrite have all been made worth it :'-)

normally i would answer this privately, but i'm a bit selfish and want this to forever be available to read on my blog whenever i want to <3 never hesitate to shoot me a message

[gattnk]

For every shadow there's a light source. For Malachia, there's Reina.

The superior villain pair of the show and the highlight of the first season, everyone! I would've kept them secret for a bit longer but my darling @angelsfriendsass did one of their famous crossover pieces showcasing my (until now) server-exclusive Reina so... I guess my hands are tied :P Here's how the magic happened:

The first thing I did when I set myself to revamp the Angel's Friends plot, was work on Reina and Malachia's role in the story. They're the driving force behind the plot in both the series and the comic, which meant it was crucial to determine what their story would be this time around: what would I keep, what would I change, and what would be tossed out entirely.

I looked into Igor Chimisso's work for Malachia and Reina to better understand his design work (he was a lead character designer for the series). I also looked into their theme songs for inspiration. My research brought me to four key words: light, shadows, opposites, and neutrality. Reina would be searing light, and Malachia would be creeping shadows. The "opposites" and "neutrality" concepts would tie them together and unify their designs.

I love the idea of protagonists seeing themselves mirrored by their antagonists in some way. Reina used to be an angel in the show and Malachia used to be a devil in the comics, so I cemented this into my own canon; they would mirror Raf and Sulfus quite naturally this way.

Malachia's new personality and role as a "creeping shadow" made me choose a variety of greys for him. Being a former devil, his focus on ambiguity and "neutrality" would fit well with him. Reina instead has more polarizing tones, dealing in extremes like the "searing light" she embodies: being a former angel, her line of thought would be more black and white, and this would be reflected in her dress with "opposite" hues.

You can't have a villain duo without complementary concepts, and what better way to represent complementary concepts than with complementary colors? I gave Reina yellow eyes and Malachia purple ones, and included "hints" of each other by adding shades of these colors on their counterpart.

Malachia has ochre accents, a yellowed shirt and bronze skin, very straightforward. Reina has dark magenta accents and her iconic blue hair to tie her to his counterpart. I considered white hair like her young self in the series at first, but it clashed with the dress; I took a page from her adult design and kept her silver bangs to frame her face instead.

Reina's shattered halo pieces are arranged over her head like a crown, a tongue-in-cheek reference to her name ("queen" in spanish) and her position of leadership in Limbo. Malachia instead used his shattered horns to fashion himself a diapason, like the one in the comics. The function of this tool is very different in my rewrite, but I'll keep the specifics to myself for now ;P

Also, I wasn't entirely sure where to include this, but remember how angels are tied to circles and devils to triangles? Reina, Malachia and other neutrals will be tied to a half circle on top of a triangle, kinda like a diamond with a round top. See how many of those you can spot around!

It'll be a long time before they show up in my fic proper, but I still encourage you to keep your eyes open just in case while you read my rewrite fic. After all, Raf and Sulfus aren't particularly careful or subtle, so who knows what's lurking around the Golden School these days...

I'll Fly With You (rewrite fic) Art masterpost

[matchibee]

United In Grief

based on this post by @ldhluvr that had me sprinting.

not proofread, a lot of emotion, my brain hurts

Days were long, evenings even longer. An empty bed to reflect the void spreading throughout your heart, threatening to consume the useless organ in a plume of despair.

Miguel was everything, your multiverse.

For so many years you were fruitful in curating the life of your dreams, everything you desired within the palm of your hand. A loving husband, a brilliant daughter. The pair of them were more than everything you could've conjured in the crevices of your mind, a duo of delight you wouldn't trade for the world — for everything that encompassed continuance.

"Ya me voy," Miguel spoke through a tired sigh, his chest slotting up against your back, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. "I won't be back until late, Amor. Don't wait up for me." He peppered kisses down the nape of your neck, relishing in your scent, in the warmth of your skin pressed up against his own.

But evenings that left you waiting for Miguel's return were detrimental to your work, finding you couldn't sleep without his warmth enveloping you, fueling the very battery you swore had long-since emptied.

You knew he was home, knew that when you slipped through the window of your apartment another person entirely, he would be safe and sound.

But tonight was nothing like the evenings previous, a lump in your throat as you walked towards the pot of coffee that had long gone cold, pouring the liquid into a mug Gabriella had made you during school — infinitely talented, forever yours.

The hairs of the back of your neck stood on end, the pot slipping from your fingertips, shattering onto the floor.

Gabriella called out to you, concerned by the sudden sound of shattered glass — a sound that reflected the very feeling present in your heart, breath heaving as you frantically travelled the inner-workings of your mind for an answer. "S-Stay in your room! I'm alright!" You called out to Gabriella from the kitchen, the young girl still have yet to see you dressed in your suit, nothing within your immediate vicinity available to cover your body.

You practically flung yourself towards the windowsill, January rain flooding the evening in puddles of despair, the reflections in the bodies of water displaying a mask ridden with apprehension.

'He's fine,' You'd mumbled to yourself as texts went unanswered, as the clock continued to turn. Time didn't rest, an entity that obeyed the will of its whim. 'He just got held up, had too much work.' But as minutes transitioned into hours, you knew something was wrong, you knew there was more to Miguel's absence than meets they eye.

The activation of your Spider-Senses only confirmed your worst suspicions, droplets of water shielding your mask as your frantically flung across the city, entirely dismissing the sound of civilians chanting your name — their savior, the one to deliver them from evil.

But who would be there to save you?

It happened in a blur, a figure in the night illuminated by streaks of lightning, your web snapping as you lost concentration. You tumbled a great deal, skin scuffed beneath your suit.

"Shit!" Voices piqued your interest, standing to your feet, you were met with a pair of thugs who seemed to struggle with an array of items, your webs doing well to restrain one of the assailants.

"What are you up to at this time of night?" You called out to the pair, doing your best to look for the other obscured in darkness, your foot catching on a lump before you. Your brows furrowed, dropping to your knees as you recognized the shape to be one of a person, every fiber of your being erupting with Spider-Sense.

"Miguel?" His name left your lips as you flipped his body over, your husband lifeless before you, a trickle of blood flowing from his lips, your eyes trailing to find a splotch of blood at his stomach — a gunshot wound, one that was seeping with blood.

And it was then you realized you were standing in a puddle of his blood, Miguel's essence coating your shoes, staining the fabric of your suit as you dropped to your knees. "Miguel." You whispered his name, the sound of struggle from behind you shielded by the beat of your heart - one that now beat alone, without the accompanying acoustics that seems to always persist by your side. "Miguel, we need to go home. Let's go home, Miguel."

But he didn't hear the call of his name, the plead of your voice.

Your webs were torn from behind you, the sound piquing your senses, but you couldn't keep your eyes away from Miguel — from the groceries strewn around him, his cellphone cracked just inches from his fingertips.

The twin bouquets of flowers bathed in his blood.

Your suit-clad fingers caressed the expanse of angular features, a man who personified the very definition of ethereal, everything you loved slipping from your fingertips in a singular fluidity. Where he once sat jovially in the palm of your hand he now proved nothing more than a fleeting memory, one you'd forever keep within your heart, whispering his name, your prayers falling upon deaf ears.

It happened too fast, so abrupt. One second he was there, your shimmering beacon, even when life made you feel as though there was nothing more to this life than an arachnid persona. But the next, Miguel lie in a heap of what once was. A memory on the stain of your vowed eternity.

You called out his name once more, whispered it like a mantra, praying something, anything would bring him back. Desperation creeped up your spine, interlacing your fingertips with a demon of this universe's own creation, one who hadn't an ounce of empathy in the face of your suffering.

But you knew better than to believe this line of work would have mercy, that anyone could find it in their hearts to grieve for someone they perceived as a beacon of perfection .

You knew better than to think your grief would be spared.

"C'mon, let's get going." One of the men whispered to his counterpart, their eyes trained on your vulnerability as they scrambled to retreat. Still, they worked to gather everything they'd taken, fragments of your memories of Miguel.

But you wouldn't let them get away, couldn't possibly fathom them getting away with what little remained, with what they'd done.

And when you finally snapped out of it, finally found it within yourself to stand, they were gone.

So you returned to his side, returned to stroking along his angular features, allowed yourself to fall against his chest despite the blood that stained your entirety.

Miguel's phone dinged with a message, your eyes lingering on the screen as you viewed the words of his co-worker.

When you unlocked his phone, you found the screen lingered on your messages together, Miguel in the midst of typing one, the text still unsent in the box.

'Picking up something for the three of us to make together. It's our favorite! I love you, see you soon, amor.'

You hit send, your own phone chiming in the pocket of your suit, and you fell apart all over again.

Days blurred into existences of grief, months having spanned the time since you'd lost Miguel, and yet every day felt as though you were reliving a nightmare. The bed remained empty, his toothbrush untouched, body wash forever in a state of stagnancy.

Everything seemed to stand still, yet time ticked on, you were still expected to live with this grief hanging over your head for eternity.

The men had gotten away in the midst of your surprise, taking advantage of your vulnerability.

But you never forgot a face, vowed that evening as you slipped back through your window, tears shimmering in your eyes, that you'd bring the men to justice.

That was your job, your purpose in this life, and you would rather die than deprive yourself of this right, this closure.

"I'll be back late tonight," You mumbled into Gabriella's hair, tucking the little girl in for the evening. Your suit was concealed by a coat, fingertips webbed in fabric unknown to Gabriella.

"Can't you stay here for tonight?"

Of course you'd come to realize that Gabriella was missing you, the loss of Miguel hitting harder than everything she'd experienced in her short years of living.

But you were doing this for her, doing this for your family.

For Miguel.

"I'll be back before you wake up, I promise."

Your words seemed to soothe her, calm her nerves as she snuggled into her sheets, into the various stuffed animals Miguel brought with him every time he walked through that door.

You missed the jingle of his keys, the sound of his footsteps as he did his best not to wake you up.

You missed Miguel.

When Gabriella had finally dosed off, confining herself to the safety of sleep, you hopped out through the window, your mind set on your first target, the initial hit on your self-written list.

Two names, two assailants, both linked to a single moment.

You'd tracked them to an abandoned apartment complex they seemed to frequent in the evening hours, meeting at a different location every night but ending it in the same place.

So that's where you waited, impatient as you clung to the crumbling roof, the sound of voices the only thing ringing through mind, headache inducing. The pain becoming increasingly profound the closer they arrived, proximity practically nonexistent.

One of the men lit a lighter, illuminating your suit, gasps falling from their lips as the three of you were once more shrouded in darkness. Your webs thwipped in every direction, binding the men against the wall, their struggled groaned filling the space. Dropping to your knee, you brought the lighter between your fingers, igniting the flame before your masked face.

"S-Spider—!"

"Don't." Your voice was foreign to your own ears, malice dripping from your lips like venom.

"I don't know what we did but—!"

You thwipped your webs to cover the mouth of the man who seemed incapable of keeping his mouth shut, approaching the other before you, your full attention on him. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Fuck if I know." He spat, eyeing you with a bored expression.

You hummed. "You'll find out soon enough."

Glimmers of spark erupted from behind you, illuminating the once dim space, figures slipping through the occurrence, standing before you.

Your senses stood on edge, looking to the trio with an expression of confusion.

"How ya doing?" A woman you realized to be pregnant spoke in a soothing voice.

"You're like me..." The words slipped without your permission, a hand flying to your lips, concealing your words.

A much smaller figure shrouded in multicolored shades, white dominating the mass of the fabric, was the next to speak. "We're here to help you," Her voice was like honeysuckle, dripping like ripples of heaven. "You just have to come with us."

"I'm kinda in the middle of something." Despite the invitation you weren't intent on slipping away after everything you'd worked towards, after dedicating your life to this very moment.

"We aren't asking." This voice was much more gruff than the two previous, tone entirely bored, as though fed up with being here.

And yet it sounded so familiar.

You stepped up to the man, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm not going anywhere."

So, you ended up being forced to leave. The trio had worked against you, confining you to a glorified bubble that hindered your escape, producing you in the sanctuary of a man clad in red and blue.

"Let me out or so help me—!"

He chuckled, looking down at you through his mask. "Or else what?"

"Miguel," The woman from earlier, Jessica, slipped into the conversation. "Maybe be a little more compassionate?"

Miguel?

"Leave us." He spat, the pair of Jessica and Gwen leaving with remorseful expressions, obviously not keen on defying his will.

No, it couldn't be, it was unfathomable. You shook the thought from your head, removing your mask to look into their eyes without the obstruction. "Send me home."

A mask of blue and red dematerialized before your very eyes, a face you hadn’t seen in the flesh for forever — condemned to what remained on your phone, on the plaque that garnered his picture in the cemetery you and Gabriella frequented, unable to deliver him from your memories.

Eyes of vermillion stared into the crevices of your soul, a man who was yours yet far different than how you remembered him. Where smile lines traveled along your Miguel’s face, this man seemed to have an expression pressed into a permanent frown, incapable of any emotions apart from anger. He wasn't yours, yet eternity whispered otherwise.

"I can't do that." Miguel spoke, but you weren't focused on his words, only capable of registering his face, his entirety. Here before you stood everything you'd ever lost.

Your past, present and future.

"Miguel," You pressed your hand to the bubble that kept you confined, entirely entrapped within a state of disbelief. "I thought you were—"

"Dead?"

You nodded wordlessly, slipping to your knees as Miguel turned away from you, your crimson confinement slipping away as you were met with the crisp air of the near-empty room.

"I'm not from your universe. In your universe, I'm dead."

You furrowed your brows. "That doesn't make any sense! I know what I see, and right now I see my husband!"

The words left Miguel in a state of shock, his body rigid as he fought every urge to bound towards you with open arms, hold you and never have to release you again.

"There are an infinite number of universes, an infinite number of Spiders just like us."

Miguel pressed on with a tangent that had your thoughts spinning, mind fighting to make an understanding of the information he was spewing, everything seeming more akin to a fever dream than anything else.

"We all go through canon events, moments that connect us, that make us who we are."

Your eyes drifted to various screen baring different scenes, instances where those cursed with this ability had lost everything. A man with his uncle, another with their best friend.

You with Miguel.

"No," You swiped the images away, the room returning to its previous luminance. "That's bullshit. It doesn't make any sense."

Miguel sighed, his back still turned to you as he held up his left hand, the multicolored suit dematerializing with a technology you'd never witnessed before. "I wish it was," A silver banned shimmered in the artificial light, glimmering with love, a reminder of vows that were bound to eternity and stripped by oblivion. "In my universe, you're dead."

You felt at the ring beneath your suit, shifting the jewelry uncomfortably, the piece having never felt so unbearable until this very moment. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"That's why I couldn't let you go through with it."

"What?"

"Killing those men — the ones that took me... Your husband. All it does is make everything worse, it doesn't solve anything."

As though you hadn't learned anything you scoffed, "How do you know?"

"Because I went down that same road when you—shit... When my version of you died." His voice was shrill, seeming to lose his composure with every passing second. In your eyes he saw everything he'd ever lost, standing before him as though you'd never faltered to begin with. "I went looking for the people that took you away from me, from our family that wasn't a family yet."

"Then what?"

You could see the remorse in his eyes, a gaze of regret, the memories too painful for him to share, yet he pressed forward — for you, for himself, for an unspoken closure the both of you desperately required. "I missed you more than anything in this world. I went looking for you, disrupted universes until I couldn't handle it anymore, until I convinced myself I was better off alone — not meant to be a father, a husband."

You gasped. "You were gonna be a dad?"

The though brought a smile to Miguel's face. "You had our little girl with you when they took you away — took both of you from me." Miguel's eyes were glazed with tears, vulnerability on his sleeve as his mind fought for him to remain logical, remember why he's the person he was in that very moment. "I wish I'd gotten to know my darling Gabriella."

A lump in your throat, the sensation scratching you with claws like fire. "She's wonderful, Miguel."

He chuckled, a smile forming on his lips, one he forced himself to push away. "What's she like?"

"Just like you." The response was instant, absentminded, thinking to a universe where he no longer existed. "Everyday I'm scared I won't be able to face her because she looks more and more like you, acts like you."

Miguel could picture it, the life he deserved, the one he was destined to live. In his heart there was a love that would forever remain his to keep, bound to his soul. And while the thought left him in a state of elation — the fact that his daughter was happy in another reality — it wasn't his joy to experience.

It was yours. Yours and a Miguel that wasn't him.

"I can't send you back to your universe unless you swear you won't go after those men."

"I can't just-"

"Swear you won't go after those men or else you'll never see Gabriella again!" Miguel's voice thundered through the room, shaking you to your core, a chill rushing down your spine in wisps of terror. He couldn’t stand to see another variation bound to the universe’s clutches, lost because of selfish, something he could easily prevent. Miguel didn’t want to see to see you suffer all over again. lose everything just as he had. And if this was how he had to get his point across, it was what he would do for the sake of the canon.

For the sake of his love that transcended the multiverse itself.

"I..." Your voice was weak, tears brimming in your eyes. Miguel had never yelled at you, never dared raise his voice. And the fact that this variant of him had done it so simply, without an ounce of effort, had brought you back to the cruelty that was reality.

This wasn't your Miguel.

"I promise."

No matter how you begged and pleaded, no matter what you did to change the canon, he would never be yours.

"Good."

The Miguel O'Hara from your universe was gone, and all you had to remember him was memories bound to blood, crimson staining a suit you hid away, unable to bring yourself to wash the stains of grief, ridding your fingertips of what once was, all that remained.

But just as the vows of your eternal love were broken upon the death of Miguel...

This promise would soon be broken, too.

[the-library-of-theories]

Phantom of Hexcore theory

(Want to see the TikTok version with photos? Here’s the link:)

Before the last episodes, I wanted to put my guess for this show as I’ve began listening to the Phantom of the Opera album and found some relevance to the show. Especially with the intro with Viktor’s parts being parallels to this musical.

To make this short (as possible), let’s put the characters and who they would parallel who. And this may either surprise you or not.

Christine = Viktor

Erik (Phantom) = Hextech/Viktor

Raoul = Jayce

Christine is Viktor not because of the ship (let’s be serious for now, as much as I ship them as well lol), but rather because of the narrative. Both had ambitions regardless when one of them is literally dying that both want to fulfill. And while goals are different, both get a taste of what they want. So close.

This may attract the other two important characters. Erik and Raoul (Hextech and Jayce). Jayce became very close to Viktor, someone who literally saved him from his despair and wants to return the favor in any way possible. But this is where the “phantom” comes in.

Hextech, the duo’s dream of helping their people. It was at first, the dream come true… until it was lost. When Viktor began feeding it his blood, we can see a connection began between Viktor and Hexcore. In reflection to this, this is where Erik and Christine meet. The song “Phantom of the Opera” is a great comparison to Hextech and Viktor’s relationship. Here’s two examples:

“In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. That voice which calls to me and speaks my name. And do I dream again for now I find, The Phantom of the Opera is there… Inside my mind.”

“Those who have seen your face draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear.” “It’s me they hear.”

“Your (my) spirit and my (your) voice in one combined.”

This basically is a parallel to Viktor’s arc as he slowly and will eventually become the Phantom… the Herald Machine.

So what will that mean for the rest of the show?

Well right before we get to the predictions, give me a page or couple of slides to put the spotlight on Jayce and Viktor’s relationship.

We know both are very close, to the point Jayce was willing to do almost anything to save Viktor, even fusing Viktor with the Hexcore which ironically enough is the beginning of the transition from Viktor to the Herald Machine. Even many pointed out that in the intro sequence, that Viktor isn’t the one to put the mask one.

Jayce is.

The best song to help explain their relationship is “All I ask of you” which parallels to Viktor making Jayce promise to destroy Hextech.

“Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears. I’m here, with you, beside you. To guard you and to guide you.”

“Say you need me with you now and always. Promise me that all you say is true. That’s all I ask of you.”

Skip to after Jayce “kills” Viktor, I don’t believe Viktor’s arc is over and I know almost everyone will agree. We know he’ll come back as we think he’ll be. Which is why the song “Masquerade” is perfect to reveal he’s back.

It parallels when the Phantom crashes the party and gives one last warning.

And while most of Viktor is gone, I think a small part of him wonders back to the “simpler” times. Hence parallels to “Wishing you were somehow here again.” Thinking of his relationship with Jayce. His last bit of humanity.

“You were my one companion. You were all that mattered. You were once a friend and father. Then my world was shattered.”

“No more memories, no more silent tears. No more gazing across the wasted years. Help me say goodbye.”

I then think that we’ll have one last stand off between Jayce and Viktor. “The point of no return” will perfectly fit this as they may fight.

“Past the point of no return. The final threshold. What warm unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return.”

The conclusion of this fight is what confuses me a bit, but this will be going off of the ending of the Phantom of the Opera and my ideas.

Perhaps Jayce and Viktor have a heart to heart, should Jayce recognize or break through to what is left of Viktor. Leaving a choice to Viktor to chose. (Down once more…/ Track down this murder). Depending on the results of this, one of these two theories may happen.

Viktor and Jayce will once more team up once last time. Choosing to leave as Christine and Roaul have.

“Say you’ll share with me. One love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you.”

Viktor will escape or die as the Machine Herald in parallels to Erik (Phantom).

“You alone can make my song take flight - It’s over now, the Music of the Night.”

Remember, this is just a theory (a movie theory).

And if none of this happens, well, it was fun.

And if it does…

I am no writer for this series and was just thinking of the nods towards the musical.

[burlveneer-music]

In the Sun - Dawn - I've previously experienced folktronica as being pastoral in nature, but when it's based on percussive folk music it apparently tends more toward industrial

Pounding traditional drums and grinding synths herald Dawn, the new album from post-industrial Tokyo duo IN THE SUN, their first release on Chinabot. Dawn was inspired by the musical traditions and wild mountain landscapes of composer TIDEPOOL’s childhood in rural Japan. Layers of ethereal synthesizers and wailing saxophones by Kim Pueru evoke the mist and granite of mountains are beaten with rhythms that hit like shattering rocks. The record “embodies a fusion of synthetic and percussive elements, evoking both mysticism and raw energy,” says TIDEPOOL. “The juxtaposition of dystopian undertones and the resilience of nature serves as a thematic backdrop, reflecting on societal shifts and personal introspection.” Dawn’s instrumentation may be inspired by Japanese taiko drums and African percussion, but it remains extremely contemporary, with swirling rhythms of singeli, juke, footwork, gabber, and minimal to create an evil cacophony. The album also nods to the GORGE movement, which is experiencing a resurgence in Japan. Organized by TIDEPOOL since 2011, IN THE SUN has a fluid lineup, with Kim Pueru joining on tenor saxophone for Dawn. TIDEPOOL utilizes ethnic drums, synthesizers, and laptops and is influenced and inspired by artists such as Haruomi Hosono, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Throbbing Gristle, Geinoh Yamashirogumi, CAN, among others. They supported Baltimore duo Matmos during their Japan tour and organized the party known as “RAW TEMPO” at Bushbash. 

[pcktknife]

i have no idea about anything that happens in splatoon but can u please tell me about those two pearl and marina bitches theyre so funny

unfortunately for you its late so i will not be going into the full splatoon super fan mode for this explanation(lying).

Okay so Marina and Pearl are the idols for Splatoon 2 together they make the duo Off the Hook. Pearl raps (MC Princess) and Marina djs (DJ Hyperfresh). We actually know very little about Marinas past in comparison to other idols outside of her being a Very smart and capable soldier/engineer (she was building weapons of war dw abt it) but Pearl comes from a super unfathomably rich family and was a punk/metal singer prior to Off the Hook (her notable song from that time being called 'Fuckin Dudes Be Fuckin Sleepin' im not censoring that) Marina met Pearl after leaving the army, after some weeks gave her the demo for a song she made called Ebb & Flow and Pearl was like let's make music and that was their first song. (the full 'Fly Octo Fly ~ Ebb & Flow' sounds better to me personally but whatev) The idols from Splat 1 Callie and Marie (Squid Sisters) are I believe formally trained singers/dancers and in comparison Off the Hook were described as being naturally talented. Further while the Squidsters are meant to be rivals (represented by a Fox and Tanuki) Off the Hook are supposed to have an incredibly close and strong bond (represented by a Crane and a Turtle) the final splatfests for both of these games also reflect this (though ironically Rina and Pearl are also partially based on Biggie and Tupac) Pearl is the more brash and outgoing of the 2 where Marina is more shy. They have the most synergy of all the idols I think. It comes through in their music, art, and dialogue/interactions and that's what makes them so enjoyable <:] That's all I'm giving for lore but for fun facts outside of what I've already mentioned

Pearl's voice can cause shockwaves that cause mass destruction (in 'Fuckin Dudes Be Fuckin Sleepin' you can hear glass somewhere shatter at the end bc of this)

Marina likes to draw and makes shoujo manga (or has made at least one titled Dear Pearl)

Marina designed the collection of 24 splatfest stages/maps called Shifty Stations which use octarian tech as well as the Flooder (the Shifty Station stages are named after different western novels in english and shoujo manga in japanese)

Pearl has a custom weapon called the Princess Cannon (which aids in the previously mentioned mass destruction)

There's Off the Hook branded cereal and plushies in the splatooniverse

In jpn lyrics to Off the Hook's songs are written in katakana(Rina) and hiragana(Pearl) because in world they're singing in different languages. Some game dialogue is like this also.

Pearl just....eats mayonnaise

Pearl threatened to cut an old man after he was being specie-ist to Marina

Pearl designed Camp Triggerfish (another stage...its a campsite...lodge whatever) she also wrote it's jingle and her family owns it

Marina's suuuper into machinery and also has a motorcycle

Bonus track of them recording for 'Into the Light' featuring Pearl fucking up her rap

that's all I don't have anything else thats more specific bc I got into splatoon 2 late so I dont know Every little detail but i know a few

[south-of-heaven]

stephanie mcmahon falling for a girl instesd of a guy like her parents thought and then reader ends up doing kinda what triple h does with being head of creative and a co ceo and the two of them starting the authority?

The Authority || Stephanie McMahon x Reader

Summary: Steph's parents always though she would be with a man, but when she falls for you a whole new chapter of WWE opens.

You stand by Stephanie's side, a force to be reckoned with. The journey that brought you here was nothing short of extraordinary – a tale of love, determination, and the power to rewrite the rules. As co-CEOs of WWE, you've not only shattered glass ceilings but have created an era of change that will be remembered for generations.

Stephanie's parents, Vince and Linda McMahon, had envisioned a different path for their daughter. But when her heart found its home in yours, a new destiny began to unfold. Love knows no boundaries, and your love story defied expectations, reshaping the landscape of WWE in the process.

Together, you seamlessly stepped into the role of the Authority. Your passion for the business, coupled with Stephanie's unrivaled knowledge and experience, created a dynamic duo that propelled WWE to new heights. The talent felt your genuine care, and the fans saw a company that embraced diversity and innovation.

As you both took the reins, the company flourished. Your commitment to empowering female athletes, providing opportunities for underrepresented voices, and creating compelling storylines that resonated with the audience turned WWE into a cultural phenomenon. The product became more than just wrestling – it was a celebration of strength, heart, and the power to overcome any obstacle.

Your love story served as an inspiration not just within WWE, but beyond its borders. People saw two individuals who stood up for what they believed in, who defied norms, and who proved that love is a force that can shape destinies. Your journey showed that authenticity and dedication can change the world.

Now, as you stand at the forefront of the company, your shared vision continues to evolve. You've transformed WWE into a platform for stories that matter, voices that deserve to be heard, and dreams that deserve to be realized. Your leadership style is one of compassion, collaboration, and a deep understanding of the business – a perfect blend of Stephanie's expertise and your innovative spirit.

In boardrooms and creative meetings, your presence is a testament to the power of love and partnership. Your influence reaches every corner of WWE, from talent development to storytelling, from community initiatives to global expansion. Together, you've built an empire that reflects your values and the incredible journey you've undertaken.

As the sun sets on another day of hard work, you and Stephanie exchange a knowing glance. The company you've nurtured, the stories you've told, and the legacy you've created all bear witness to your love's enduring strength. The Authority, co-CEOs, partners in life and business – you've proven that love's path is the most extraordinary journey of all.

[mofffun]

«Rita of Gokkan» Ch.19

eng translation by me

ch: [tag] [2-3] [4-6] [7-9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18]

timeline: ep5 (Toufu ch1)

Rita and Kaguragi test each other on what the other knows.

contains TV SPOILERS past ep5, assumed reader is up-to-date at ep43

*If you are a newcomer and wanted to read the manga along with its corresponding episode, you will only get context for what's hinted in this chapter much later in the show.

t/n:

p4: This bugnarok is pronounced "by-EH-jim" not "bae-jim" ... based on a fly (ha-EH)

Kaguragi addresses everyone as "-dono" but sometimes Rita as "Sovereign Rita". I'm putting Rita-sama and Rita-dono both as "Justice Rita". Normally I'd be inclined to keep the honorifics but since I already used the English form before I should stick to that and subs group conventions. ("-tono/-dono" is an antiqudated suffix that is only used in official documents nowadays. In history, it meant respect for those above you but nowadays it's used by the higher-rank to address those lower politely. Genderless, lower than '-sama'.)

Something about Rita's speech pattern is they tend to use a lot of kanji, as part of their solemn personality and regular legal jargon. I lack the context to evaluate how advanced Rita's kanji are to the average Japanese but the general sense of Rita having a more archaic/complex vocabulary is evident.

holding my urge not to put a ! in every Kagu speech bubble

p14: Kagu's reation to hearing Rita saw Suzume's figure: ……はて？ -> long pause, [lit. 1. well; let me see; now​ (used before sentences expressing a doubt) 2. dear me/good gracious]

ch19:

t/n part 2:

p9: わざわざお出まし恐縮（きょうしゅく）です [lit. my apologies for making you come all this way.] -> What an honour to have your persence!

Here it is! the east/west cultural difference! Keigo is a big challenge for me as a learner already, let alone a translator. There's no direct dictionary substitution and it really depends on your intuition with usage in either langugaes. The keigo here is humble-type, while to make it sound natural in English, instead of reflecting your own incompetence, you are flattering the other party. In the next line, Kaguragi says because Rita came unannounced, they were inadequate in failing to preapre a welcoming committee. I think the scarcasm is there in English too, but I just feel it's more insulting to imply Rita is not exactly welcome while initiatively taking the "weaker" side (Kaguragi's gaslighting, what's new).

p13: learner's note: the royal kitchen is called 厨房(chuubou) while the word for kitchen I knew was 台所(daidokoro). Research shows 厨房 is a professional kitchen like in a restaurant and 台所 is the one at home. Katakana Kitchen is also in the vocabulary to mean a modern, western-style industrical kitchen. Chinese has lost the distinctioin and uses 廚房 (note!: an extra dot above 厨) for both home or workplace.

p16: I interpret Rita's first concern is in maintaining equality between the kingdoms. A duo alliance between ❤🖤 is only detrimental to a five-kingdom one they are working towards: small circle, and increased hostility from 💛💙 if they believe ❤🖤💜 is their small clique. Yet it is interesting Rita raised the question out of personal curiosity. Remember in the beginning there was this, feeling, ❤🖤💜 are seniors and they've known each other for longer? Now we know Kaguragi is actually Rita's junior in terms of order of sucession. Now they could've what he was like prior to taking the throne. Notice how they never describe him as a liar. Maybe Rita does find it odd a man of his capability feels the need to bootlick Racules.

Onomatopoeia words this week:

スッ(Suu) an action done suddenly without sound

ボコボコ(boko boko) 1. sound of hitting a hollow object 2. uneven (surface) 3. to cause damage with full force

バキバキ (baki baki) hard objects shattering/breaking/cracking ポカ(poka) 1. repeated hit with something heavy i.e. fist/bat 2. feeling of warmth

よろよろ (yoro yoro) (adv., not a sound) staggering

もがく (moga ku) (v.) struggle/wiggle impatient -> here means eating frantically (because food is too god)

ずいっ (zui) (adv.) straightforwardly, readily, without hesitation

alternate translations:

p9: No careless msitakes… -> Better keep my guard up… / Better stay alert…

p11: No way any of that is true. -> What a load of crap. (intuition lol)

Script:

p1 (18lp) p2 「バサッ　バサッ」 「ガクン」 すみません～… バエジーム お騒がせしております～ 「ゴゴゴ…」 くそ…　バグナラクめ… どこにでも湧（わ）いて来る… p4 うるさくてすみません～　そして… 「ブ　ブゥン」 死んでいただけると助かります～ 「ス…」 「タッ」 p5 「ガッ」 「ボコ　ボコ　ボコ」 待ち伏（ふ）せていたのか p6 「ドドド」 「ガガガ」く…つ 「バキ　ゴ　ポカ」 p7 ギヤ 「ズンッ」 トウフ国の黒子軍団…！ 今だ！ p8 撃（う）たせていただきます 「パ　パ」 「タ　ドッ　タ　ボッ　ボ」 「タッ」 ギャ 「よろ　よろ」「ブブブ」 てっ…　撤退（てったい）です～！　 p9 いやいや…　素晴らし腕前 さすがリタ国王 わざわざお出まし恐縮（きょうしゅく）です 前もって言っていただければ迎えの用意いたしましたのに カグラギ‧ディボウスキ… こいつはラクレスと通しているようだが… 油断（ゆだん）は禁物（きんもつ）だ… p10 p11 して　ギラという男 強盗団（ごうとうだん）の親玉（おやだま）という噂がありまして 毒虫（どくむし）食にしている化け物なんていう話も もういい そんなわけないだろ もしやそのご様子まさかギラの正体（しょうたい）をご存じで…！ 調査（ちょうさ）中だ たとえ王でも外部の者に話すわけないだろう p12 さすがは絶対中立の王　素晴らしい！ 察しますに最高厳罰（げんばつ）処分（しょぶん）ですね …ただ一つ言えるのは…… おお！？言えるのは！？ —いや 調査の結果は法廷（ほうてい）で明らかにする 危ない…どうもこいつの前でもしゃべりすぎる… ラクレスに感づかれては厄介（やっかい）だ うまい…　「もが」 はっはっは　そうでしょう！ このトウフには世界中のあらゆる食が揃っております p13 ただ… 聞いたことない食事は出ませんが … そういえば　リタ殿 以前（いぜん）コーカサス城の厨房（ちゅうぼう）で 調べごとをされていた…とか 調べもの見つかりましたか？ 個人的な調査だ　結果を話すつもりはない そういえば　あの時… p14 お前とよく似た着物を見たが ！ ……はて？ ラクレス殿にご挨拶にうかがったときでしょうか？ p15 いや…　もっと小柄（こがら）な… それはリタ殿の見間違いでしょう なにか　隠しているな… お前はなぜラクレスに付き従う（つきしたがう） ラクレス殿は素晴らしい志(こころざし)をお持ちの方 であれば協力するのは当然です それにしてはまるで主従(しゅうじゅう)のようだ p16 国同士は対等（たいとう）な関係のはず… それに前王イロキの悪政（あくせい）から解放したのはお前の独力（どくりょく）だ それは… リタ国王！ これは仕方がないのです…！

[ovwechoes]

could you do platonic headcanons for brigitte and tracer?

Tracer & Brigitte Headcanons (Platonic) I'm happy to write these for you - thank you for the ask anon c: They're under the cut, enjoy!

What is their friendship dynamic? Their friendship dynamic is definitely ‘social butterfly and social moth’. Lena's a social butterfly in the sense that she creates a light at the centre of the conversation - she flourishes when surrounded by people, and loves to make new friends. She's incredibly warm towards others, and can be friendly to a T. However, Brigitte's a social moth in the sense that she feeds off the light that Lena produces (in a healthy way). Brigitte can be social and friendly, but she's more introverted than Lena. She finds it hard to socialise at times, and would rather keep to herself. However, Lena brings that side out of her and helps her grow as an individual and show off her own beautiful patterns on her wings to people. It's something they've grown to appreciate about each other, and it's definitely how they'd present themselves as friends.

How far would they go to support each other in tough times? They're fiercely loyal to one another, and still will hold each other accountable with reason (more so Brigitte will but I digress). They're the type of friends that would lie to hospital staff and say they're siblings, just to be able to visit each other if they had any injuries that Overwatch couldn't take care of. They'd also be the type to pretend to be girlfriends if a creepy old man tried to hit on them, not taking it too far but definitely doing it to either piss the man off, or to get them to go away. It's something they find funny to do, especially when they least expect it. They'd go to the ends of the Earth for each other, though, and it's something that makes Brigitte and Lena feel safe with one another.

Have they ever fallen out, and if so what happened? They rarely argue about anything truly important, or anything that's not trivial and can be settled very easily. However, they have once and it didn't last long. Brigitte and Lena were texting whilst they were busy with separate missions, and Brigitte's messages were coming off as more hostile to Lena than usual. Lena took this as something against her, and when Brigitte refused to tell her what was wrong, Lena blew up and got frustrated with her for not opening up about things again despite Brigitte reassuring her that nothing was wrong truly. After a while of back and forth arguing about it, Brigitte didn't have the energy to continue talking about it, so she left it on read. It made Lena more upset, and so when they came back to HQ after not speaking for days on end, they avoided each other like the plague. It was starting to affect the other members, as they were sending each other passive aggressive messages back and forth through them. It got to the point that Winston had to sit them both down and mediate a discussion between the two of them, until they finally understood how this was just a misunderstanding and in reality, Brigitte was just shattered after the day and didn't have the social energy to talk. They apologised, and worked on how they could come across the way they mean to and approach conflict properly without blowing up. They're better than ever now, and this happened fairly soon into their friendship.

What do they like to do together on their days off? When they aren't working, they're practically attached to the hip to one another. They value their time together, and it helps them grow stronger as a duo. It reflects in their work too, so they like to do as much as they can with one another to keep the friendship fresh and new. Some of the things they like to do together is go to the gym, go on a short walk or hike, or visit a bar/pub and catch up with one another about their romantic lives, or drama happening at HQ. It's something that helps them forget about work, and focus on one another. If they haven't got the energy for that, sometimes they'll just watch a cheesy movie like Paul Blart ones, to ease their minds and laugh together. They don't mind doing things that cost nothing or are expensive together, as long as they can with one another that's all they truly care about one another.

What is their favourite and least favourite trait about each other? Brigitte's favourite trait about Lena is her sense of humour - being able to unwind and have a laugh with someone, even if it's at each other's expense. Brigitte likes the fact that Lena feels comfortable enough to poke fun at her, and can receive the same back without taking it personally. Brigitte's least favourite trait about Lena is definitely her quick reactions to things she perceives as negative - she can be quick to assume at times, often forgetting that things aren't black and white. Brigitte helps to remind her, but sometimes it can be overwhelming if Lena isn't in the headspace to listen to it. It's not something bothersome for her, though, and she appreciates both this aspect and the positivity Lena brings. 

Do they have any quirks, inside jokes, etc. that others don't understand but they cherish? They're definitely the type to have inside jokes and nicknames for other Overwatch members that no one but them can understand. It's fun for them to have something just they can understand, and have their own jokes about things they've done together, moments they've enjoyed together. Only Brigitte's romantic partner(s) and Emily know about what they mean, and they like to keep it that way once they see how much they relish in the humour behind them. It'll annoy their co-workers at times, but they're not mean about the way they go about it or actively make anyone feel excluded or bullied in any way.

[melancholitas]

The phantom of the Polar Tang (also on AO3)

for @heart-pirates-week day 4, Ikkaku & night

It's a cozy, uneventful summer evening. Soft waves lap about the smooth yellow of cool steel; lulling the Polar Tang and its inhabitants into drowsiness after a languid day. Slow times like these, out in the open of the sheer endless blue of the ocean, will always be sacred opportunities. It takes quite some time to refill their air tanks, so what would be better than enjoy these times to the fullest? The Hearts are a cheerful bunch, after all. So while the air flows through the pipes, filling the metal core to the brim, the crew joins in, flooding their systems with a different type of fuel. Well, maybe not everyone. One might think nearly bathing in machine oil every day would do at least something for the skin, but it's actually quite the opposite. So Ikkaku, in dire need of some nurturing, decided to pamper herself a little. A well earned reward in between the chaos. This time around, she also got some company. With a content grin, she regards her work. Hakugan can clearly pull of some skincare! The smaller man really needs to take better care of his face, always wearing that signature mask of his. But after she's done with him, he'll surely radiate under that coverage. Ushering her companion out of the baths, Ikkaku retouches her own face and starts to head for the deck. Nothing beats some relaxing under the stars before bedtime, after all. But as soon as they make their way through the ladder system, a shrill shriek rips through the night. Nearly missing a step, she whips her head around, making Hakugan almost fall in the process. The rapid pulse makes their ears ring. "What in the world was that??!" she whispers. Hakugan only shrugs. "Beats me." Scanning their surroundings, neither of them can depict the source in the dim light. Straightening her back, Ikkaku continues on her way. Better not pay it any mind, stranger things happen on the Tang all the time. But as soon as they come across the main hatch, an ear-shattering wail sounds again.

"SHACHIII - - - - IT APPEARED AGAIN - - - - -"

Dumbfounded, the duo exchange a glance. What appeared?!!

"SHHH DON'T MOVE, BEPO!"

"NO HASTY MOVEMENTS! DON'T STARTLE THE GHOSTS!"

"Pengiiin, do you think they'll eat us??"

Ghosts?? Wait a minute. With their gel coated faces, looking down at her flowy white night gown and Hakugan's bathrobe, a small snicker escapes her lips. They do make a sight for sore eyes, indeed. Silently communicating, Ikkaku's eyes light up with a plan, her companion mirroring the mutual intent. Together, they sneak up upon the trio on silent heels, donning their best haunted impression they can muster while swallowing down their laughter.

"I can smell measly humans~"

"We've come to devour your sooouls~"

Biting down on their tongues, they're immediately rewarded with a reaction.

"KYAAAAA----"

"BEPO STAY WITH US"

With a thud, the polar bear falls to his knees, screaming his lungs out. Penguin and Shachi surely aren't proud of their own cry as they grip onto each other for dear life. Only as the two pranksters can't keep their joyous laughter in anymore, the inebriated men seem to catch on. Holding their racing hearts to regain their composure, they soon manage to breathlessly join in.

"Man, what the hell, it's just you two!"

"What's with you, scaring the living shit out of us like that!"

Bepo's tears ebb down as well.

"I for sure thought we were goners. I'm too young to die like that - - - "

Cackling, the woman just shakes her head. How endearing her crew mates can be, really! "Maybe that's your sign to join in on some nightly routines, guys! Otherwise the next ghastly faces you'll see is your own reflection in the mirror!" It's nights like this she's glad to have found such a lively home. Grateful to the core, all of them enjoy the rest of the night with playful banter. Engraving these memories into their hearts, true to their name.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9

[thelostexperiment]

Buzzard Reunion

The imposing wooden fortress, that was once Magica DeSpell’s old tree hovel, magically grown, entangled with other trees around it that had curled and twisted into turrets with branches sprouting into steeples covered with foliage, loomed large as the landmark of the swamp, as ghastly as it was garish. 

Against the pouring rain and the cracks of thunder, the faintest of mermering can be heard from outside one of the gothic style knothole windows at the second floor. From the outside looking in, flashes of purple lights could be seen through the opaque glass accompanied by some screams and muffled shouting. The ruckus only grew more chaotic inside the tree-castle with the sounds of smashing glass, metal clanging, and various collisions as red light started flashing against the purple. The pandemonium inside crescendoed with a tremendous “CRASH" which ended the light show. 

For a tenuous moment it seemed like everything was finally still inside. That moment shattered just like the  window when a chair was hurled through it and a muted rainbow colored mist started seeping out of the gaping hole as a low rumbling started to grow.

The Black Buzzard with a squirming, squawking sack over his shoulder hopped onto the windowsill, frantically shouting, “HURRY-UP! GO-GO-GO!!"

His assistant, clad in a hooded cloak, suddenly glomped onto his waist, toppling him over the edge and both fell screaming out of the window into a brief freefall. Fortunately the Buzzard’s umbrella-copter saved them from hitting the ground and carried them away turbulently while they struggled to keep hold of each other and to avoid crashing into the surrounding trees.

Meanwhile the rumbling from the tree-castle erupted as enormous red and blue spotted testicles with crustacean claws a the tips and eyes for suction-cups burst out of all the windows, and a giant chicken food busted open the front door. Garbling rowers and snarls drowned out the noise of the storm and couldn't still be heard long after the lair of Magica DeSpell was out of view… that's someone else's problem now.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Once back at the Discord Duo’s home base, an old mansion with a copper roof so new that the scaffolding hadn't yet been taken down, Collin’s elation could no longer be contained.

They did it! Finally! After all the special training, the scheming, the preparations, the risks taken, it all paid off!

He hummed merrily during his clothing change, and made a little bouncing skip across his room as he pulled on his evening jacket. He approached a washstand while smirking at his reflection in its mirror for the first time, dipped his hands in the basin of water and rubbed the cool liquid into his face multiple times until his youth had washed away to the age he was originally made to be. 

There was a knock at the door as he dried off with a hand towel. He could hear Susan's voice through the door telling him that she got everything ready for him.

With everything he needed with him, he left his room and made his way down to the hall in stride until he reached the door his new “inhabitant" was behind. 

The room was dimly lit as he requested. The greater light that beamed through the now open door acted as a spotlight, casting Collin’s shadow across the pet-pad laden floor. At the very end of the room, just outside the light’s reach was a wheeled stool that was reupholstered with synthetic lawn and tethered to that stool by his new leather anklets & jesses with bungee cord, was the currently feral vulture, wearing a falconer’s hood. 

Seeing his former creator like this gave the clone a rush of superiority and malicious pleasure, his lips curled into a crooked smile. He closed the door behind him as he approached the bird, reached into his coat and pulled out the fully repaired intelliray gun. He stopped a few paces away from his target as he set the dial to “intelligent”, aimed point blank and… fired. 

Once he was certain it worked, he delicately slipped the hood off the bird’s face and with a malevolent grin he said in a silky tone, “Hello Bradford…”

[persepor]

Let's talk about my favorite villains pt 1

Let's face it, sometimes the villains are better than the heroes or they are just as compelling as the heroes. So I want to go over some of my favorite villains which spans back to my childhood, I'll also put villains in quotation marks because some are framed as villains when they really are not (you'll see why).

So let's get into this!!

Eris

Eris is first on my list and- hoo boy! Do I love her so much. I need to re-watch this movie because the last time I saw this was when I was 8 or 9. First off she's a badass and I mean that, she has a plan and she'll do whatever it takes to make that plan work.

Eris is the goddess of discord, and she strikes a deal with Sinbad for him to get the Book of Peace for her. He backs out of the deal though, so she uses her powers to frame Sinbad for stealing the book. Sinbad must now track down the book and return it.

Eris' design reflects her personality and how she stirs up discord and chaos. She's designed as if she were simply smoke, with her form constantly shifting and being able to change her shape and grow. She can make herself tower over humans or make herself the same height as humans.

I always loved her for how she was simply herself while being an unforgettable villainess, her personality is unmatched and adds to why i love her so much.

Ramesses

If you haven't seen the Prince of Egypt please give it a watch it's really good. As someone who doesn't care about religion I feel DreamWorks struck gold with their adaptation of the story of Moses. They paint Rameses as a complicated villain with conflicting emotions.

Rameses doesn't want to let Moses' people go because he wants to uphold the legacy their family's dynasty has built. But, he wants his brother, Moses, back. This culminates in their sibling relationship shattering.

Rameses is not a black-and-white villain, he is 3 dimensional. But, he is still evil in wanting to keep the Hebrews as slaves. He is the reason all the plagues are set upon Egypt, resulting in his sons death.

Rameses is an interesting villain you'd have to watch the movie to really get what I'm saying about his character.

Ratchet and Madame Gasket

Putting these two together because they are a Mother-Son duo. Ratchet deals with things on the outside while his mother, Madame Gasket, deals with things on the inside with her chop shop. They both want to take over Big Weld Industry and the whole city.

These two are HILARIOUS, Ratchet acts as a sophisticated, well-put together person with a plan, but is actually a scared mama's boy. He has very hilarious scenes and lines, his interactions with his mother are also hilarious. One of my favorite scenes of his is the one where he knocks out Big Weld and says this: "Oh my god I'm as crazy as my mother!!....HYAH"

Madame Gasket used to terrify me as a child, and I can see why. She is ruthless in her approach while also being a doting mother to Ratchet. She collects 'Out modes' with her sweepers to turn them into metal to create new, shiny parts. She even got her husband out of the way so she can focus on her plan of taking over Big Weld Industries. A villain who will get rid of anything in their way is terrifying.

They are both defeated with Ratchet being chained up by his father and Madame Gasket being thrown into one of her machines.

Tatiana

A character that's posed as a villain but is put into that light. Yes she is wrong for Vinyl City's power outages, but she knew what kept the city going. She used to be Kul Fyra, leader of the rock group the Ghoulings.

I won't go much about her her because I want to talk about her in full but she is so well written. Am ex rock star that switched to EDM now has to deal with a musical revolution. She sees B2J's revolution as irrelevant because nothing will come of it.

As she points out they made the same amount of energy as EDM and that they went into this without a plan. They would put people out of jobs and cause a revolution from people who live EDM. She's the common sense B2J needed.

Fairy Godmother

You should not be surprised she's on here. She is an icon when it comes to DreamWorks villains. When DreamWorks villains are mentioned, she's the first one to be brought up.

She is portrayed as a caring individual but is a selfish person who wants her darling son Prince Charming to be king. She uses the fact Shrek took a potion to make him and Fiona human to her advantage. She makes Charming pretend to be Shrek so he can get closer to Fiona.

She also is a master manipulator, basically threatening the king to do what she wants him to do. She wants Shrek out of the picture because "Ogres don't get happily ever afters." She wants Fiona to have the picture perfect happily ever after married to charming.

Yes her entire scene at the ball is stunning. The red dress is so good and fits her character perfectly. The rendition of Holding Out for a Hero is absolutely a banger and is a go-to song of mine.

Iconic villain and has had a lasting impression on me.

Mother Gothel

I grew up with Morher Gothel as a character. Both her Disney and barbie version, which I'll talk a bit about here and in a dedicated post about early 2000s barbie. I love her character very dearly. We are talking about a gaslighting, manipulative person.

She kidnapped Rapunzel because of her hair, she doesn't love Rapunzel she loves her hair. Meanwhile, in the Barbie version, she's a cold, distant person who kidnapped Rapunzel as revenge. But we're focusing on the Disney version here.

She makes Rapunzel believe she loves her, makes the outside world to be dangerous, and manipulates her into thinking Flynn Rider abandoned her. She was willing to murder to keep Rapunzel's hair to herself. As all she cares about is her beauty and youth.

She is a master manipulator and an amazing villain as well.

Preminger

Ah Preminger one of the best Barbie villains. A villain with a great plan that fails miserably. A villain with hilarious scenes.

Preminger wants the crown to himself amd at first plans to marry Annaliese. But when that goes wrong, he tries to marry the queen. But that also goes wrong.

He has hilarious scenes such as him knocking on the cabin door to see if Annaliese is still locked in there. To the hilarious scene where he almost faints when finding out the princesses wedding will be next weak.

Preminger is the most loved barbie villain for a reason. He's dramatic, funny, and cunning. His sidekicks are hilarious and give a lot of laughs. His dog is also a great component of his character as he is an extension of Preminger.

End

Well that's the end of part 1, I have 4 more I'll discuss in part 2 so keep an eye out for that.