#operation golden orb
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Oh, look, Charles & Camilla opened the vaults to let Kate wear the diamond Festoon Necklace. I thought they were jealous haters who didn’t want to let Kate “outshine” Camilla.
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Watch "King Charles' Coronation: When Is It and What Will It Look Like?" on YouTube
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Operation Golden Orb!
King Charles III code word for his coronation.
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Ya existe fecha exacta para la coronación del Rey Carlos III
Ya existe fecha exacta para la coronación del Rey Carlos III
La ceremonia que tendrá lugar en la Abadía de Westminster estará llena de tradiciones y pompa de larga data, pero que a su vez reflejara el papel del monarca actualmente y en el futuro.
Así como el Rey será coronado, la Reina Consorte también lo será el mismo día.
La fecha de la coronación del Rey será el día sábado 6 de mayo del año 2023 y estará a cargo del arzobispo de Canterbury, lo anuncio…
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Gojo Satoru Masterlist
Touch her and you'll burn
Your boyfriend Gojo goes berserk after finding out that Toji kidnapped you.
You saved me
After Suguru tried to kill his former girlfriend, Satoru is there to cure your depression.
She is my weakness
While you are on the brink of death through Suguru's hands, Satoru realizes just how much you really mean to him.
A word of power
When his wife is sent to missions over and over until it visibly gets to her, Gojo decides to do something against it.
Lies in the dark
You boyfriend Gojo cheated on you with another woman, leaving you heartbroken. Did he, though?
Keep doing it
Satoru loves coming to your office everyday to finally win your heart. But it seems like you're more subborn than he thinks.
Having to share a bed with Satoru Gojo at a love hotel
... no words needed.
Golden girl
Satoru Gojo really hates everything about you, especially the fact that you are stronger than him. Is it even possible to get along with you, let alone like you? (Spoiler: yes)
The heart wants what it wants 18+
The farewell of your boyfriend Suguru left a wound so deep that it seems like no one is able to fix it. Is the Satoru Gojo, who's secretly in love with you, able to pick your pieces back together?
Promises you can't keep
When Sukuna realizes that you did not only break your oath to wait until he returns back to you but married Gojo Satoru after 1000 years of him waiting for you, he goes insane.
Don't touch her
Gojo going berserk when you get injured by a curse
Gojo eavesdropping on his wife when she's talking about him While you kept your relationship with Satoru private, you always admire him when you meet at work. However, when your students ask you about your type in men, you can't help but describe the love of your life who hears every single word
Gojo recklessly flirting with Choso's little sister at Shibuya After being set in Shibuya to distract and exhaust none other than Satoru Gojo, Choso's little sister soon learns that the rumors about his charm are true.
Gojo teasing the heck out of you after realizing you get flustered by his eyes
After working with smooth operator Gojo Satoru for years, he slowly but surely began to realize what your true weakness is: his bright blue orbs. And he wouldn't be Satoru Gojo if he wouldn't use that against you...
Gojo's and (y/n)'s son wanting to marry (y/n)
no words needed
Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife
When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.
Gojo getting flustered by his sweaty wife and smacked at their training session
Your beloved husband never fails to beat you without mercy when training together. But this time, something seems to catch his eye - your chance to finally hit him with your best shot.
Megumi accidentaly calling Gojo's wife "mum"
no words needed
Gojo calling (y/n) a burden to keep her safe
Despite the fact that Satoru Gojo was the one who lifted you up and gave you the confidence to go on your very first solo-mission, it was also him who shattered your confidence in order to keep you safe.
Gojo's wife showing her maniac side when it comes to protecting her precious students (Part 1) Despite Gojo's wife spoke vehemently against sending the first and second years on a way too difficult mission, the elders decided against her suggestion. Her calm and collected self changes drastically when she makes them regret their decicion...
Gojo's wife going berserk in order to protect her students (Part 2) Like your bad feeling already suggested, especially Toge's and Yuji's lives hang on a threat when their mission doesn't go as planned. Good for them that Gojo's wife and their teacher rushes to their side and shows everyone just how much she cares about them.
Gojo's girlfriend being there for Shoko when no one else is Shibuya brings even a strong and collected woman like Shoko down to her knees. Especially when you, the only person who seems to truly care about her, ask her about her well-being when your boyfriend just got sealed....
Gojo dressing up as Santa for his girlfriend, Megumi and Tsumiki Satoru Gojo expected a lot of things, but not his girlfriend and two rescued kids making fun of him after he put on a Santa costume only for them.
Gojo being your enemy (or lover?)
Your family told you over and over, pounded it into your head since childhood: Satoru Gojo is your enemy, you are simply not allowed to feel anything but hatred towards the Gojo clan. But why do you find yourself lost in his arms each and every night, begging him to love you right?
Gojo buying (y/n) souvenirs after every mission and finding out she kept EVERYTHING
Since your joyful smile is so addictive, Satoru can't help but buy you a souvenir every time he goes on a mission. After a few months, he realizes by accident that you do, in fact, keep everything he gifts you...
Geto's little sister finding out her husband got sealed by her big brother
You thought you lost him forever, your big brother. Until Shibuya brings you back to reality, until your beloved husband gets sealed by none other than your dead big brother. Until you show your enemy what you're made off...
Gojo's wife supposedly getting executed by kicking ass instead
When Sibuya is finally over, you find yourself facing none other than the elders who want to execute you. Little do they know you are no one to be messed with, that even without your husband by your side, you are a true threat if you want to...
Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him
When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.
Gojo's and (y/n)'s daughter buying a prom dress for her mum because she never had one
When you told your little one about the fact that you never got to wear a prom dress, it was clear for your husband and daughter they needed to change that for your birthday.
(y/n) comforting her husband after he was forced to kill his best friend
The man who seems goofy all day, who never takes anything serious breaks down in his wife's arms after he killed his best friend.
Satoru Gojo trying to make bun with his daughter's kinky hair
It always looked so easy to him, the way you put your thick hair into the most breathtaking hairstyles. But when his daughter asked him to do a sleek bun on her, he was confronted with the stinging fact how difficult styling kinky hair can be. But that doesn't stop the dad of the year from learning... (POC reader!)
Reader going from being Gojo's lover to being his worst enemy
You were always the perfect girlfriend for Satoru Gojo: innocent, quiet and weak. Until something inside you snapped. Until you decided you don't want to be weak anymore. Until you realized that Satoru Gojo isn't your lover, but your enemy...
Gojo's daughter insisting on him brushing her hair because he's so gentle
You are pretty suprised when your daughter insists on your husband brushing her hair depite the fact that this is normally your job. Until you find out why...
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo saturo#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader#gojo smut#satoru gojo#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo satorou#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satorugojo#jujutsu satoru#gojo#jujustu kaisen#satoru x reader#satoru smut
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At around 3,300 meters (2 miles) below the surface off the coast of Alaska, where the warm light of the Sun never penetrates, an NOAA Ocean Exploration remotely operated underwater vehicle came across a strange, golden orb.
It was "tightly adhered" to a rock dotted with white sponges, measuring around 10 centimeters (4 inches) across with a hole in one side.
It's not entirely clear what the mysterious orb might be. Initial suggestions from the researchers conducting the livestream of the dive included an egg casing from a mystery species, a dead sponge, or a coral.
"I don't know what to make of that," said one of the researchers on the 30 August livestream.
"It's definitely got a big old hole in it, so something either tried to get in or tried to get out," another speculated.
Continue Reading
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Alright actually I want to do this right now so
List of spiders that be cool to incorporate into Web!Martin designs based on the vibe ur going for:
Jumping Spider:
Perfect for "c'mon I'm just a little guy just a little birthday boy" but actually he's a bit fucked up Web Martin
Parnaneus jumping spider:
I think the false eyes AND the green color palette make this the mixed Eye/Web Martin that is still just a fucked up little guy
Gooty Sapphire Tarantula
A: the color palette works very well for mixed lonely/web Martin
B: this is a web Martin that wears jaw droppingly beautiful suits and dresses to formal events
C:above all else this web!Martin Serves Cunt
Goliath Birdeater Tarantula:
The color palette is more subdued, but this one is perfect for your "gentle" giant Martin who wears cozy clothes and is mostly chillin but can easily shift into looking incredibly intimidating and threatening
King Baboon Spider:
Similar to the Goliath Birdeater Tarantula, this Martin operates mainly based on size rather than flashiness. However this is a Web!Martin that doesn't get want he wants via occasional intimidation, but rather by being a Hot Bear
Golden Orb Weaver:
Tbh I think this is the perfect spider for a more classic villain type of Web!Martin. He would be dripping in black and gold and have a sharpness to him that very much says Do Not Fuck With Me
Pumpkin Orb Weaver
Classic villian look again, but this time it's like kids cartoon villain. Think less Moriarty and more Dr. Doofenshmirtz. Also who needs to be competent at manipulation when you've got a fat ass.
Spiny Orb Weaver
Honestly I think this one is just sick as fuck. Look at it!!! I think it would be particularly good for making a more punk leaning and/or masked design
Pink toed tarantula:
For some reason in my mind Ballet is a very Web! form of dance and as a kid I always saw these guys as little spider ballet dancers. This would probably be a two in one au of both ballet dancer and web Martin and I think that'd be very fun
#tma#martin blackwood#cw spiders#THIS IS PART ONE OF TWO BC I HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT DONT REBLOG THIS YET
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here is an unnamed, unfinished WIP that is too fun to die alone in my WIPs folder, hope you enjoy
prompt (but make it wizard):
"Evans," came the gruff voice of Alastor Moody, Head of the Auror department.
Lily looked up from the stack of parchment she'd been pouring over slightly maniacally for the last three hours. She was starting to see double. "Yes? Sir."
"We have an urgent assignment for you."
"Me? Why?"
Moody's magical eye was piercing in its intensity. "Because I'm bloody telling you—"
"Crouch has me working 'round—"
"You let me worry about Crouch. This new assignment is taking precedence. You are the only one who has the requisite intel to pull this off."
She should be flattered. But she had been an Auror long enough to know this was not a compliment. "Why's that? Sir."
"Because of the target. James Potter."
Thus Lily found herself heading undercover for one of the most bizarre operations she’d ever undertaken as an Auror. The gist was this: a critically important memory had gone missing from the Department of Mystery’s Prophecy Department—that was all she was allowed to know, giving the clearance level required of which she woefully fell short—and in the process of recovering the palm-sized orb, the chain of custody was broken and the prophecy was sent off via owl post.
To James Potter.
Somehow.
That was where she came in. A long-time acquaintance, sometimes-friend, one-time-when-they-were-drunk-snog-partner, she was tasked with recovering the orb from James without revealing that he possessed it. Simple enough task on the surface level, if one were to ignore the simple fact that, of all things, the orb was disguised as a bloody Snitch.
“You sent James Potter important Ministry information in the form of a Snitch?” she’d asked, unable to keep the contempt out of her voice. “And you expect he hasn’t already broken it? Or let it loose?”
Idiots. Idiots, the lot of them.
(Moody was not particularly appreciative of her tone. But again, long-time acquaintance, sometimes-friend, one-time-when-they-were-drunk… She was their best option.)
That was how she found herself casually bumping into her old co-Head on the high street in Diagon Alley, ignoring the little twist in her gut that she attributed to the nerves of her assignment, and chatting with him as though she was hanging on to every precious word that came out of his mouth until she finally mustered up the courage to ask him out.
“Dinner?” he had replied. “Tonight?”
“Yes. Why wait?” she had said, summoning the best version of her seventeen-year-old flirty self—she wasn’t sure that part of her still existed to any real extent, but she also knew James used to have a thing for her, so she had to play the cards she was dealt, as her dad used to say.
She tried to not be so pleased when he agreed.
***
That life was unpredictable was often one of James Potter’s favorite parts about it. He leaned into the chaos at every possible moment from the moment he learned what leaning was. As he aged, he took on a new life philosophy and decided to live his life expecting the most outrageous things to happen; he played the odds, chose the underdog every chance he got, and like the lucky arse Sirius said he was, often it paid off.
But even this felt like too much of a stretch.
Because while James had a lot of luck in life, and a lot of privilege, too, what he unequivocally did not have, was good fortune with Lily Evans.
And yet now, he was supposed to believe that he just happened to run into Lily Evans on the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley and she was so thrilled to see him that she asked him out?
Lucky James might be, but stupid he was not.
He knew right away that something strange was happening when he received a parcel earlier in the day that contained a pristine Golden Snitch. He had eyed it warily for twenty minutes before Sirius interrupted him.
“I don’t get it,” James had said.
“Well, I know it’s been a while since you played Quidditch, mate, but that is a Snitch.”
James had shot him a look, slightly disgruntled but mostly annoyed, before he reached forward toward it. “But why did it come through the post? There’s no address on it. No letter. There is definitely something going on with this. And I intend—”
Sirius had cut him off with a sigh.
“I intend to find out!”
“Good luck, Sherlock.”
“Sher-what?”
“Nevermind.”
It was this intent to investigate that led James to Diagon Alley in the first place, though what he was expecting to learn from the small selection of books in Quality Quidditch Supplies was beyond him. And so when he returned to his flat empty handed that was not altogether surprising.
Sirius looked up from the sofa where he was sitting while filling in the crossword, paper and ink pot balanced on either knee, and gave James an if you must look before nodding.
James wouldn't realize what planted this idea in his head, but the moment he gazed down at the Snitch something clicked.
"Evans is an Auror, isn't she?"
***
The Shack was an… interesting venue choice for their date, Lily thought as she pushed open the splintered door. Tucked away on the windiest street in Diagon Alley, The Shack was named and modeled after The Shrieking Shack by a couple of wizards who bought heavily into its lore. As far as Lily knew, the haunted building on the outskirts of Hogsmeade village was so heavily warded that no one had ventured inside of it in decades, which made Lily skeptical about the owners’ ability to truly model their restaurant after it.
It became quickly apparent that they simply leaned into the dilapidated ambiance of The Shrieking Shacks’ exterior when designing the interior. The tables and chairs looked beat up, mismatched and wobbly, some missing legs or propped up by magic. The photographs lining the walls were hung in broken picture frames and never level; they were also surrounded by peeling wallpaper or chipped paint. Candlelit chandeliers flickered overhead, casting rolling shadows across the room as Lily scanned it.
James was already there and flagged her over with a delighted wave of his arm.
“Hi!” she said, voice exaggeratedly cheerful. She leaned down to press her lips to his cheek, earning herself a surprised widening of his eyes before his trademark grin slipped back into place.
“Hey, Evans. All right?”
“I’m gre-at!”
Unfortunately her upbeat reply was momentarily derailed when she sat down on a battered wooden chair across from him; it wobbled dangerously and she just stopped herself from toppling over.
“Steady there,” James said, not bothering to conceal his grin.
She knew her replying smile came out more like a grimace. To make matters worse, when she leaned forward to rest an elbow on the table, a chunk fell off and onto the floor. James repaired it with a flick of his wand and an unabated grin.
“Careful, Evans. You keep breaking things and I have it on good authority that they’ll chuck us out of here.”
The idea didn’t sound altogether terrible, if Lily were honest with herself. If they did get kicked out, perhaps she could convince James to take her back to his home. It would get her to her end goal faster. Something told her that she wouldn’t be getting off that easily though. Nothing ever was easy with James Potter.
“Is that true?” she asked, pretending to be concerned.
The messy-haired wizard opened his mouth, closed it, and then finally said, “Nah, I’m taking the mick. I take it this means you’ve never been here before? Everything is in a state of near-disrepair.”
“I’ve never been here. It’s… interesting, though. In a nice way.”
James only smiled in reply as their waitress appeared.
***
If James had any doubt that something was going on with Lily Evans, it would have all been erased within two minutes of sitting down at the restaurant. The choice to meet her at The Shack came quickly during his afternoon brainstorming session with Sirius.
“Evans asked you out?” he had asked, the crossword now forgotten. “Unless you’ve suddenly changed into a cephalopod and didn’t tell me, something’s amiss.”
Despite Sirius’ jokes, or perhaps prompted by them, the pair concocted a plan to test just how interested Lily truly was in dating James.
Admittedly, it had been hard to not get his hopes up. Regardless of his previous concerns, part of him was still hopeful that Lily had a more-than-platonic reason for the invitation. Now, seeing her falsely smile through her casual review of the menu, he would settle for platonic instead of… whatever the real motivation was.
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What's the difference between a witchlight, a Magelight, and a Magelamp?
Good question! I'm kind of surprised I haven't answered this before (I probably have but can't find it lol), but here's the breakdown:
A witchlight is a small, roughly candle-sized flame that a Mage conjures. It's almost always a ghostly blue flame and is always attached to a Mage's hand, palm, or thumb. It can sometimes be different colors, like green or purple. Every person has a slightly different way of conjuring their witchlight: some hold it cupped in their upturned hand, others hold it in a 👍 position or even a 🫰 position, whatever is most natural to them. I think of it as a magical Zippo lighter. Looks kind of like this:
It doesn't usually get as big as the last picture, but you get the idea. Notably, the "mnemonic" gesture to conjuring a witchlight is always snapping your fingers together a few times, as if they're made of tinder and flint.
A Magelight or magelight is less of a flame and is more of a golden orb of softer ambient light. The difference is that they are always gold, white, or pale yellow in color, illuminate a much wider area than witchlights, and notably are more "autonomous": they can float ahead of you or bob alongside you pretty much on their own, whereas a witchlight is attached to your hand and has to be held aloft like a torch. Magelights are more independent and don't require much active thought once summoned, serving more as levitating balls of illumination than little flames.
A Magelamp is a physical item that resembles a Victoria-era gas lamp. They're usually set into walls as sconces or overhead as ceiling fixtures and provide diffuse ambient light, pretty much how a gas or electric lamp would. They're constructed from anbar and zharril, Mage materials that can be charged with magical energy and spellwork, and are powered purely by magic. (Magelamps used to be just chunks of zharril crystal that would hold magical light really well before slowly fading... kind of like... glowsticks?... but they've been around for a really long time and have gotten much more advanced over time.) Because the magic lies within the lamp itself, Magelamps can be operated by both Mages and non-Mages. The Shepherds' compound is lit largely by these--so you can walk into a room and they'll automatically light up, or you can speak the command word and they'll light up according to your directions (like "light only the western sconce" or "turn down the intensity by 50%"), but this last part is finicky if you're a non-Mage and you'll usually have to get a spirit to help you if you want to do really fancy things--but they do have to be recharged by a Mage every five years or so. There are also oil and gas lamps and candles/braziers throughout the compound, too, though!
Hope that all makes sense! :)
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can you explain to me how the power system works in jjk?
( i am so sorry for this late reply ) ofc this isn't all the power systems in jjk but these are the main ones with overly simple definitions + links if u wanna do personal reading
i. cursed energy — used by cursed spirits ( eg. jogo ) and sorcerers ( eg. nanami )
it's aligned with negative emotions and used to fuel someone's ( only sorcerers and cursed spirits! ) jujutsu¹. for example:
we all know negative emotions are home to humans, however, this doesn't mean a regular human can see cursed spirits. while most humans in jjk possess cursed energy to a degree, only those whose energy's at a higher level are able to see cursed spirits ( ie. jujutsu sorcerers. )
cursed energy can "leak" from a human body & ferments until a cursed spirit manifests ( kinda like baking a cake in the oven except more complicated. ) that only happens with non-sorcerers ( regular humans basically ) — jujutsu sorcerers can control their energy + channel it into jujutsu¹.
ii. jujutsu — jujutsu sorcery, one of the key elements in jjk. it's an umbrella term that includes all sorcery-related abilities ( eg. previously mentioned cursed energy. ) aside from that, it's used as a prefix within jujutsuers: jujutsu high(school), jujutsu sorcerer, etc.
anyone with the ability to utilize jujutsu is referred to as a jujutsu sorcerer.
jujutsu's exact "age" is unknown. it's been around since curses dawned the earth.
note: you'll often see 'heian era' when reading jjk. heian era, aka golden age of jujutsu, dates back to 1,000 years ago when sukuna reigned.
iii. cursed techniques — specific abilities that activate when cursed energy is channeled ( think of the process as something similar to solving algebra but mentally. )
cursed techniques are activated by manipulating cursed energy using two key operations known as lapse and reversal + much more ( innate techniques, barriers, etc )
lapse: basic, default or neutral state of activation. when casting cursed techniques through lapse, the caster circulates their energy in a forward direction to channel it into their ability. ( it's very confusing )
reversal: produces positive energy by multiplying negative energy with negative energy ( for example using math: -3 × -2 = 6 | in math, two negatives makes a positive.) negative energy is NOT suitable for recovering but positive energy can heal physical injuries. usually it requires a very high manipulation of cursed energy so it's kinda rare.
+ a very much more in depth explanation
iv. domain expansions — an advanced barrier technique and the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery. within a domain expansion, the user's cursed techniques are improved and are guaranteed to hit the opponent ( eg. gojo's domain expansion in season one with yuuji + jogo. )
it's achieved by expanding an innate domain with cursed energy while using a barrier to construct it inside another separate space ( like sukuna's, for example. )
the caster imbues their cursed techniques within the barrier to complete the expansion, allowing them to use their ability throughout every nook & cranny of the domain.
to trigger d.e the caster must use a specific hand sign or signal unique to them ONLY. from the outside, the barrier is closed and usually appears as a floating orb.
domains aren't indestructable.
+ more here !
here's where gojo satoru comes into play & why his existence itself is important.
jujutsu sorcerers are recruited and trained through two schools located in tokyo and kyoto. both schoold are the "pillars" of the jujutsu community alongside the headquarters. as population increases, so does the strength of curses. the only thing that's keeping the balance are the crown jewels of the gojo clan: six eyes & limitless technique.
gojo satoru's the only person in 700 years to possess both six eyes and limitless. his birth itself not only made him an important figure in jjk but also created balance between both worlds ( which also shifted the advantage from cursed spirits to jujutsu sorcerers ) — hence why he's one of the main protagonists along with itadori yuuji.
the only way to stop gojo satoru is to use the prism realm, however, it failed to stop gojo. all of this happened during the shibuya arc to the current arc, which is mainly focused on gojo vs. sukuna.
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A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #29)
Chapter #29. Alexander tells his story. Natalie listens with rapt attention. Alexander does not mind this. Not one bit.
Previous: Chapter #28
Next: Chapter #30
Word Count: 7,629
Read Time: Approx. 59 mins
CW: adult language, angst, allusions to medical abuse
Tag list: @gatlily @patrocolus3 @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien , @thegodmother007 , @honey-olive , @bittykimmy13 , @aceouttatime , @imvenusasaboy , @liminaldaze , @windshield-patent , @joxter-coded , @rosella35 , @narrans , @rubeau-art , @littlescaryinternetguy , @jae-from-discord , @kitn-underfoot , @secretly-small @writing-forever , @iinogongju , @tales-of-aestus-deactivated2023 , @itsgothgirlthyme , @make-me-giant , @reborrowing , @whatthisfemsheplikes , @soapysoap69
Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!
___________________________________
A Fraction of Justice
Chapter #29: Flock Together
[Alexander’s POV]
My lips, teeth and tongue were abuzz with the vibration of my vocal cords as I gave voice to the images that terrorized my inner eye. A mist of sweat formed on my brow, as heat rose from my woozy stomach and thundering heart. It was as though I was watching myself speak, as if I were a spectator of my own testimonial. I could hear and feel myself talking, while also noticing, with intrigue, how somewhat removed and numb I was about the whole affair. Perhaps this was my brain’s way of protecting me from the sharp, psychological pain of the ordeal. I sat upright in the bed, locking eyes with those large golden orbs, as I felt a clenching in my throat and a stiffening in my spine.
While sitting outside myself, everything seemed to move at a snail’s pace, as though the element of time had been dipped in amber honey. I observed, with quiet fascination, the dust motes swirling in the currents of air she created as she shifted side to side. I felt the cool, clutching texture of the crisp, white sheets against my fingertips. As blood coursed in my veins with each pump of my heart, I could count each exhale as my body fought valiantly to maintain an equilibrium of sorts.
But the thing that stunned me the most, was the way she was looking at me. Not with condescension or hollow pity, but with a brow knit deeply and earnestly in gut-wrenching sorrow. From the moment I began to speak, her body had sunk with a gravity of guilt and horror, deeper into her chair, her eyes alight with… was that compassion? For me? This human, who I’d only very recently begun to tolerate, was genuinely listening to me. Suffice it to say, this was a brand new sensation.
The sound of my own voice, ringing in my ears, returned to the forefront of my mind, as I continued, “… As it turns out, they were right to bicker over the proper dose of anesthetic, because they clearly administered far less than they should have…” The bracing of her body was impossible to ignore, her brow furrowed more deeply as she feared what I was going to say next. In fact, I swore I could hear a hitching of breath as she anticipated her own worst fears, “So… after I was put under, I found myself coming to on the operating table.” She stared down at me wide-eyed and shocked, “I overheard their voices… they said something about taking advantage of your concern over me to push for surgery, that it was a pursuit of profit not careful practice. They openly acknowledged that they were the ones to strain my leg enough to break. I heard them, Natalie. Ah, I wish I could remember the exact amount… 0.3 or 0.2 milliliters of… Buprenorphine? I believe? That’s most common for anything weighing less than 10 ounces, from the literature I’ve read—“ I looked up to see her pen come to a sudden halt. She looked at the paper, littered with chicken scratch in blue ink on brighter blue lines. After a moment, I cleared my throat, “…Do you need me to spell it for you?”
She stopped looming over the page and met my gaze. Her expression puzzled me, “What?” I asked, already a bit annoyed. Was she offended I’d offered?
Seeing my confusion, she spoke softly, her head tilted slightly to my left, as her eyes lit up, “You are so fucking smart, Alexander.” Was she being sarcastic?
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I felt my defenses prick up as I wondered if she was teasing me.
She immediately looked confused and taken aback, “I’m being serious. Don’t cross your arms and mean mug at me. I was trying to give you a compliment. You’re incredibly intelligent. I mean who the hell just knows how to spell bupreenophrene or whatever the hell just off the top of their head?” I opened my mouth to correct her obvious blunder but she held out a single index finger and quickly interrupted me, “Don’t be a wise ass. I know I didn’t say it right. It doesn’t matter. My point is, you impress me with that brain of yours… just don’t let it go to your head, alright?” I stayed quiet, relaxing my defensive posture. She sighed too, both of us coming down from the heat of the moment. She rested her chin atop her clenched fist and made eye contact, “I completely understand why you’re touchy. Pretty much every time you interact with a human, all they do is coo at you and condescend. I’m sorry. I know I’m guilty of that too. But, I don’t know what more I need to say to tell you I’m on your side in all this. I wanna help, not hurt you. Okay? Now, will you please continue?”
She raised back up to sitting, clutching her pen between her fingers. I admit, I appreciated her apology and burgeoning self awareness. She really was starting to listen to me. I’d certainly categorize that as a win, and, sure, her complimenting my superior intellect didn’t hurt either. Adjusting myself slightly to get a better view of her, now so high above, I continued, “Well… As the anesthesia began to prematurely wear off, that’s when my nerve endings really came back and I could… I could feel my knee, cut open and… I flailed and shouted and they pinned me down, but not before he, the veterinarian, lodged the scalpel in my leg, somewhere inside the incision…” My throat tightened up as the pain washed through me, as well as the fear: the pure, animalistic, paralyzing fear of being utterly helpless beneath the razor sharp blade of my natural enemy. I kept seeing that font of blood spewing from my rent flesh. The way those massive, gloved fingers had ripped it out without so much as a glance down at me. The overwhelming pain, my dipping consciousness. A woman with kind eyes behind glasses, appearing above me, “…There was someone else there who actually displayed compassion. I believe… no, I’m certain she saved my life. I likely would have bled to death without her… She promised me she’d return me to you. She said that I had to go under again, but that I could trust she wouldn’t let anyone touch me until I’d been reunited with you. Though I had no other recourse, I chose to trust her. Evidently she delivered on her word…” I couldn’t help the fraction of a smile that raised the corner of my mouth, as I returned my gaze to the woman peering down at me. To have survived, to have been reunited with a human who, in her own flawed way, cared about me, seemed no small feat. I had the young woman with gentle, gloved hands and an empathetic, shimmering smile to thank for that, “…She wore wire frame glasses—“
“—With big hazel eyes? Her name was something with an L? Lilly? Laura?” Natalie was nodding rigorously in recognition, as she spoke, fighting to recall the woman’s name. I couldn’t help but catch her fever, gesturing widely.
“—Yes! Lindsey! Her name was Lindsey! You met her? Did she hand me back to you?”
Her brow furrowed, her eyes seeming wetter than before, and nodded, “She kept her word. She brought you directly to me. She placed you right into my hands. You were completely passed out… You… You looked so…” She bit her lip, as her eyes brimmed with crystalline tears, “I was so worried about you. I was pacing back and forth the whole time. They assured me surgery was the only option. I— I am so sorry, Alexander. This is all on me. I take full responsibility. I’m the one who took you there, I signed off on the operation. I let them hurt you. I was just so worried, when you got so sick, so fast, I-I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. All I wanted was to take care of you, but, instead, I did this to you. I gave you away to those monsters. This is all my fault. I am so, so deeply sorry, Alexander. I… I care about you more than I can say. You didn’t deserve any of this. I never meant to… Look, I completely understand if you can’t forgive me, just know, I feel so, so bad that it happened—“ Her voice cracked as her brow twinged, one tear rolling down the length of her cheek. Seconds later, the dam broke and she sobbed, burying her head in her hands.
There, too, my resolve cracked. I didn’t feel so numb anymore, so distant, or removed. Seeing her in pain directly before me, reignited my emotions, and I found myself hurting because she was. Was I really pitying a human being? Was she really shedding tears for my sake? Did she actually care as much as she claimed about this miniature mockery of a man who sat before her?
She blamed herself, and I could understand why: she felt responsible, that she ‘should have known better’. How could she have known they were breaking federal mandates? Her shoulders trembled as she continued weeping. I could see she was spiraling, “Natalie? Natalie, hey, it’s alright…” Her bloodshot eyes appeared behind a screen of dark, wavy hair, her brow pinched and sorrowful, “Give me your hand…” She just stared at me, wide-eyed and frozen, “Come on, I won’t bite… this time, I promise…” She broke into a smirk, that hint of a smile brightening her tear stained face, as she shook her head.
“This is all backwards, you’re the one who was traumatized, why are you comforting me?” She wiped away the trails of moisture on her cheek with the back of her hand, before settling and offering me her right pointer finger.
I clutched it with both hands, cradling the pad in my right hand and stroking the side and nail bed with my left, “I don’t blame you for what happened…” Her eyes immediately brimmed with tears again, as she blinked hard and turned away, “Natalie, Natalie look at me, please… It’s not your fault.” She shook her head, biting her lip, losing the battle to keep from crying, “You did the best you could. You take good care of me. No, don’t shake your head, you do. I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for you. That’s true! It’s not your fault…” I squeezed the tip of her finger and that seemed to push her over the edge. She cried again, eyes glowing with flecks of green behind the waterfall of her tears. I admit, her weeping made me well up, myself. For the first time in my life, a human wept for me. Someone so much bigger than myself responded to my pain with tears in her eyes and a gentle coaxing voice. Never in my life did I think such a thing was possible. I could never fault her for her compassion.
“May I touch you? Can I move your arm?” She choked out, between sobs. I nodded in the affirmative, heart thundering against my ribs. My agreement to her proposal made her cry harder for some reason I couldn’t understand. She flipped my hand over so it was now facing palm down against her upturned finger, the ridges of her fingertip now visible to me. She rubbed the back of my hand with her thumb, engulfing it, but still managed to be incredibly gentle. She moved my hand a little further away from my body, and flashed her eyes at me as she leaned down, slowly, slowly, and sank her lips into my outstretched fingers. The nerves in my hand were on fire, my heart was threatening to escape the walls of my ribcage. She’d only kissed me once before, and this brush of my skin to her lips was no less potent than the last. I did everything I could to keep my cool, I was done for if she caught on to just how much she was affecting me. As she pulled away, she stared down lovingly at my splayed fingers, rubbing with her thumb again, “I love these hands. You have such beautiful, little, delicate hands…” Normally I’d roll my eyes and groan at a comment like that, but her gaze told me, it was entirely in earnest. My heart fluttered in my chest and I felt a twisting sensation in my stomach.
Finally, she stifled a laugh and gently placed my hand on my thigh. Releasing the grip of her finger and thumb, she apologized, “I’m sorry. Like I said, this is about me being there for you, not the other way around… But, thank you, for comforting me. You really can be a sweetheart when you want to be, can’t you?”
I felt like I suddenly sat up just a bit taller, “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about…” I crossed my arms over my chest in defiance, while grinning just enough to give away my joke, “I don’t mind helping a human while she throws a big fuss over nothing every now and again…” She rolled her eyes and smirked, as I continued, “But do you really want to know how you can make it up to me?” With rapt attention and wide eyes, she rested her chin on her fist before my bedside, her gaze now only an inch or so above my eye-line. She was so close, I could feel the warm gust of her breath. I focused on keeping my voice steady and resonant, “You can help me take them down.” I cocked an eyebrow, awaiting a response I was already fairly confident in.
“You kidding?! I’ll do anything and everything I can, Alexander. I promise.” Her finger gently tapped my left knee as a small gesture of reassurance. I liked the warmth of her touch, how gentle it was. I was sorry when she pulled away.
*************
His little face twisted, and his brow furrowed, as if he was struggling with how to proceed. I stayed very still, watching him battle himself, trying my best to be patient, even though I was dying to know just what he was thinking. Finally, those blazing blue eyes locked on mine, “You really mean that, Natalie?” Of course, I do, sweetheart, “You’re not just placating me? Or pacifying your own guilt? You would actually help me take legal action against them?”
He was tense, uncertain, wary. Poor thing. I couldn’t blame him. How many times had his heart been broken by humans who’d promised to stand by him? I felt tears rush to the corners of my eyes again, as I spoke softly, returning his gaze, “Alexander, I want to help you. In any and every way possible. I believe in you. You are remarkable and I’m so so lucky to have you here with me. You wanna go for their throats? I’ll sharpen my nails. I told you I’d help you dig their graves myself, I meant that—“
“Why?” His sudden cut off stopped me in my tracks.
I could only sputter in response,“W-what? What do you mean, ‘why’?”
“Why… why are you so willing to help me? It’s not like I can compensate you financially, there’s nothing I can do to reciprocate the gesture. What is the benefit to you? I’m just supposed to believe in good faith that you’ll never grow tired of acting out of the goodness of your heart or whatever excuse you’re using to justify your motivations?”
My heart sank. Did he really not understand how much I cared and what I saw in him? “Are you worried I have some sort of hidden agenda? That I’m offering to help or that I’m pretending to help for my own selfish gain? Is that what you’re getting at?” He crossed his arms over his chest, obscuring the lettering on his sweatshirt, and shrugged, staring back defiantly, waiting for me to answer my own question, “I know you’re used to people being selfish. I know you are constantly on edge, expecting some sort of passive aggression or hidden agenda. I see it in your eyes almost every time I try to touch you or pick you up, that flicker of doubt, that fear. You still don’t trust me. And that’s okay. You’ve had a lifetime of broken promises and a handful of days with a dumb, clumsy human who’s learning as she goes just how to do right by you. I know I infuriate and offend you almost every day, but… fuck… I’m trying, okay? You’re teaching me and I’m trying my best to learn. Look, I’m being straight with you. I want to help because I think you’re a person worth helping. I take care of you because I genuinely want to. I like having you in my life, Alexander. But please don’t think I’m trying to possess you or that I’m doing this to hold it over your head later. I know you’re scared. You try really hard to be brave, and you are, you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. But I know you’re scared, too. Who wouldn’t be? I guess… what I’m trying to say is… if you’ll let me in, you don’t have to go through this frightened and alone.”
He stared at the surface of the dresser with his piercing gaze, the inner gears of his mind turning rapidly. He seemed to be at an extraordinarily rare loss for words. I broke the ice with a soft voice, “May I ask you a question and will you promise to be honest with me?” His head snapped up to meet my gaze, apprehension and worry clouding his eyes. Yet, somehow, he nodded, slightly, agreeing to my terms, “You’re scared after all your fighting you’ll end up right back where you started, aren’t you? There’s this gnawing worry at the back of your mind that in spite of everything, you’re going to end up the plaything of a human who will never see you for what you’re capable of being. Is that about right?”
He was taken aback, color drained from his face. He hadn’t expected me to read him cover to cover like that. Without looking up, he folded his hands in his lap and mumbled, his little voice even quieter than normal making it quite hard to hear, “I… suppose the thought had crossed my mind.”
I tried not to be hurt by the realization that he still believed I’d treat him like that, and rested my chin on the polished wood ‘floor’ searching for his gaze, “Give me a chance to prove to you that I’m worthy of your trust, okay? When I told you I wanted to help you take those fuckers down, I meant it. Will you let me help you?”
He looked lost in thought for a moment, staring straight ahead. After a few heartbeats, as I gazed at him at eye level, I watched him set his jaw and blink before meeting my eyes, “Okay, Ms. Marquez, you have yourself a deal.” Slowly, he offered his hand to shake. When the pad of my finger slid into his outstretched palm, dwarfing it, I couldn’t help the rush of blood to my cheeks. I hoped the light from behind was enough to mask my flustered face. I gently held his tiny hand between my finger and thumb while he shook it with the strength and confidence of a much bigger man. He was quick to wriggle free, though, which disappointed me; I would’ve liked to have held and marveled at his little hand all day. Still. I couldn’t help but notice a sudden rosy tint to his tiny cheeks, even as he pulled away. Suddenly, I realized he was speaking to me, his tone of voice immediately irritated, “… Natalie? Hello? Are you paying attention?”
What had gotten into me? We’d shared a nice moment of solidarity and now I was caught staring, lost in thought. Upon hearing him, I snapped out of it, blinking hard, “Hmmm?” I’d been so caught up in his little features! Could I really be blamed? It wasn’t often he’d let me get this close. If we both stayed very still, I could almost make out his microscopic eyelashes, fringing those brilliant eyes with that fiercely intelligent spark behind them. His disheveled hair flopped in strands along his brow looking as stormy and malcontent as the sharp tone in his voice which still rang in my ears. What a strange little contradiction he was: delicate, yet bold, tiny, yet larger than life, vulnerable yet unafraid. He had every reason to be a trembling mess, reliving such horrible memories, but, instead, I could see this fire burning within him, this vindictive, righteous anger that moved him to great passion and, which, in this moment, he was taking out on me.
“What’re you ogling at me for? Don’t tell me I just spilled my guts to you, only to have you stare at me all starry-eyed like I’m some adorable kitten. It’s rude to stare, Ms. Marquez, has no one ever taught you that?” My cheeks burned. I was being taken to task by a man I could put in my pocket, “...So?? Are you going to just sit there, blinking like an idiot or are we going to get to work?”
******
Whatever had distracted her before seemed to be quickly quelled by my direct questioning. She sprang into action, setting up her phone, on a small metal stand in a horizontal position. This set the device at about the height of my lap, when she brought my desk chair and placed it directly in front. Once she’d finished setting everything up, she returned to where I sat and leaned down, “You ready?” I nodded, preparing myself to be picked up, but she continued, “I have one more little surprise for you. Close your eyes.”
“I’m not a child, Natalie, you can just show me—“
“Aw, c’mon sourpuss! Let me have this. I like surprising you with shit so maybe one day you’ll decide you actually like me.” She begged in a teasing way and I couldn’t help from chuckling. She clocked that immediately, “Ha ha, yeah I know. Fat chance. But c’mon, let me enjoy this. Please?” I rolled my eyes, sighed performatively and finally shut my windows to the world like she’d asked, “Okay, put out your hands…” I heard the grinding sound of wood, like a drawer opening, and then a rustle of fingers far too big for the dimensions of the comparatively tiny desk drawer as she fished about for whatever it was. Then, something landed in my hands and I was granted permission to open my eyes.
While it was wrapped and sealed in obnoxious packaging, with print scaled for human eyes, what I found in my hands still made me smile in spite of myself. Placed inside my opened palms were two spiral notebooks and a pair of already sharpened pencils scaled to me. After two decades of scrounging through trash and scraps for paper and anything to write with, I now had legitimate means to record my thoughts for the very first time in my life. It meant far more to me than she could possibly understand.
“What do you think? Do you like them?” I could see she was anxious for my approval. What a curious circumstance I found myself in, where a human was desperate for my opinion. It was far from a disagreeable position to be in. Still, all I could manage to respond with was a nod to keep from getting emotional. I turned my attention to freeing them from the packaging, the clear plastic being far thicker and more robust than I’d expected. Watching me struggle, she leaned in, fingertips looming ever closer, “Here, you want help?”
I hugged the items closer to my chest, “I’m fine, thank you.” Her lips tightened slightly, clearly disappointed she wasn’t allowed to do it for me. I admit, I felt a smug satisfaction even as I struggled to muster the strength to rip it open, that she didn’t just snatch it from my grip and tear into it anyway. I’d trained this human well. She was learning. Suddenly, she gasped, making me jump and search her face for clues.
“Aw shit!”
“What is it now?” I admit, I was annoyed. All I wanted was to start my research and she was getting in the way of that, even if she had the best of intentions. In the wake of her outburst, I managed to (finally) open the packaging, gripping the contents inside the busted plastic pouch.
“I just remembered, you’re left handed. Those spiral notebooks are gonna suck for you, aren’t they? I can’t believe I didn’t think of that! Here, I can return them…”
She reached for them again. I pulled away. Was she really incapable of thinking this through? Without saying a word, I held one of the note books in my lap, my pencil pinched between my fingers. The glossy black paint on the wooden writing instrument rivaled the black and white marbling on the notebook covers. Gesturing broadly to make sure my movements were distinctly legible for her, I flipped the notebook once, along its horizontal axis so that the back of the book was now facing skyward and then rotated it 180 degrees clockwise, so that the spiral binding was now clutched in my right hand. Without missing a beat I opened the book to its very first (technically, last) page, and scribbled “DON'T RETURN” as large as I could across the blue lined paper and then held it up for her.
“Okay, now I feel like a fucking dumbass…” she held her face in her hand, sighing and shaking her head in a moment of self deprecation.
“Well, I wasn’t going to be the one to say it out loud… but now that you mention it…” I smirked up at her, not at all dissatisfied with my own joke. She immediately began to laugh, groaning in mock disdain.
“Come here…” her fingers slid around and beneath me and I suddenly found myself lifted high in the air, seated amongst a web of fingers. My heart leapt to my throat as she held me before her eyes, splayed out in her hand. I was feeling rather small, now, plucked up so easily and held aloft before those familiar, wide eyes, “What’s your problem, huh? Why are you so mean? I do all these nice things to help you and now you’re calling me a dumbass?” She dug a fingertip, teasingly, into my chest, I squirmed against her touch, batting her away.
“You called yourself one, I said no such thing!” I lifted up my hands in a gesture to show I took no responsibility. She rolled her eyes, and stood with me cradled in her hand, before crossing the room to stand before her desk. I’m so close to finally beginning my life’s work anew. I was a mere few feet away…. If she could just put me down…
“I mean for real, I have a whole ass undergrad degree and am about to graduate from law school… and you just hung me out to dry! Are you really that much smarter than me or am I just way stupider than I thought?”
“Yes, yes… Now, please, let’s get started, shall we?” I attempted my best polite smile, clapping my hands together and sitting up inside her palm, trying to coax her into lowering me into my chair. She didn’t budge an inch.
“What do you mean, ‘Yes’? You don’t really think I’m stupid do you? I’ll have you know I graduated fourth in my class in undergrad, little sir! Besides, there are different kinds of intelligences. You just happen to be particularly book smart—“
“—Book smart, yes, got it! Speaking of that, I think the best way to keep getting smarter is to conduct research. Expand my horizons, all that. So with that in mind—“
“Besides, I’m like, ninety percent certain two of the people ahead of me my senior year were cheating to get perfect grades…” she kept talking, “I’m still convinced I coulda gone head to head with Jack Lahey for salutatorian!” And talking, “But not Lindsay Ellyach, she was like, inhumanly smart— I’d never be able to out do her! Not even now!! She was the valedictorian…” With no sign of letting up, she carried on, full steam ahead, “…It’d be fun to pit you against her and see if you could give her a run for her money… she was actually always really nice though, which honestly made it even more annoying—“
“Natalie!!” I was too exasperated, I couldn’t help myself.
“Oh. Oh my god. I’m talking too much aren’t I? Poor thing, you just want to get your nerd on and start working on this and here I am keeping you. I’m sorry. Here…”
True to her word she gently lowered me down into my swivel chair. Handing me back the notebook and pencil that had slid into the center of her palm once I’d begun moving about. I gripped these items with firm yet clammy hands. This was it! Here I was about to do something I never thought possible: openly researching unfair practices against my kind, directly in front of, and with the full support of a human being.
“Alexander?” Her voice, timid and apologetic, rang from high above my left shoulder. That is, until she adjusted herself to rest her head down, close to where I was, “Are you mad at me?” She stared at me with bright, pleading eyes, before her hand approached and she flicked my hair from my eyes with the brush of her thumb.
I snarled and wrenched away, “I’m too busy to be mad at you. Please, I just want to work on this in peace.” I had no patience to be the steward of a needy human’s emotions right now.
She was quick to respect my wishes, turning her attention to her own massive screen, simply adding, she was “happy to help” in any way she could. When I glanced over my shoulder, I could see she had her coursework up.
Finally, a moment of blessed, uninterrupted silence for me to get to work! I was so giddy I could’ve giggled like a little kid. Cracking my knuckles, I flipped open my brand new, beautiful notebook, with its perfectly proportionate blue lined paper, to the next fresh page. I proceeded to format my page for notes in the same way I’d seen executed hundreds, if not thousands of times, by a man with a watery blue, cataract-filled gaze, and short temper.
No time to think of him now, I had justice to pursue and legal precedents on my side. I may as well have measured nine feet tall today, what with all the probability of victory I already possessed. I traced my lower lip with a pointer finger as I leaned in to operate the phone’s internet browser.
As soon as my fingertips pressed into the colorful glass display, Natalie let out a forlorn sigh. As I craned my neck, I watched as she tucked a strand of curls behind her ear, her expression twisted into a pout.
If it had been any other human, I probably would’ve jeered and berated her for getting so upset over such a minor thing. But for some reason, when it came to Natalie, I suddenly had a heavy conscience. I didn’t like seeing her upset. What was wrong with me? I was getting soft.
“Natalie?” She suddenly seemed quite absorbed in her work, as if she couldn’t be bothered with me. Ah, so that’s how it feels. My face flushed hot. I tried again, leaning to tug on her sleeve right at the bend in her elbow, which rested within arm’s reach, “Natalie…”
“What?” She was cold, annoyed. A pang of guilt washed through me. All of a sudden, I felt uncharacteristically small and timid, staring up at this woman who towered over me, wanting to repair the damage I’d done.
“I can see I’ve hurt your feelings…” an olive branch.
Would she take it?
“No. I’m good. Just trying to get this done. Do you need something?” Well, that was a resounding no then. So much for trying to be vulnerable. If she wanted to play games, fine, then, it was my turn.
“Why are you being so childishly passive aggressive? You’re very clearly upset, you’re actively pouting and you threw a fit just moments ago. I’m apologizing. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Why did humans always have to change the rules to fit their narrative? It made no sense to me. What did she want me to do?
She was quick to raise a brow at me before she retorted, “I’m being childish?! Really? That’s funny, because last I checked that wasn’t even an apology. You just made a statement. Look, I’m trying to keep my cool here, but you don’t get to shrug someone off and hurt their feelings and then bark back at them about their own emotional state and get mad when that doesn’t fix the problem. Try a real apology next time and maybe you’ll get the response you were looking for.”
With that, she turned her attention back to her work, and gave me the iciest of cold shoulders. I may as well have been invisible for all she cared to acknowledge me. My stomach dropped.
She was right.
As much as I hated to admit it, she was absolutely right.
I took a deep breath and then sprung to my feet (or foot, rather), careful to keep my injured leg from bearing any weight. She jumped, making a fuss the second I stood up, “Woah! What do you think you’re doing? You’re not supposed to put any pressure—“ I was already quite off balance, trying to keep one foot from touching the floor. Even with my arms outstretched, and tensing all the necessary muscles to stay upright, the moment I craned my neck to look directly up at her, and as I opened my mouth and the words ‘I’m sorry’ began to form on my lips, I knew I was a goner. I started to stumble, my arms grasping at air as my good leg gave way beneath me. I braced for impact with the hard surface of the desk. Yet, within the next fraction of a second, I found myself perfectly upright, the wind knocked out of me.
I blinked hard, trying to make sense of what had just happened. In the breadth of a heartbeat, she’d reached for me, catching me from my fall and suspending me upright, with a little gentle pressure. Her thumb was now pressed against my chest, her nail landing just beneath my left arm. Her index finger wrapped around my lumbar curve and gently rested against my bent elbow. As I collided into the barrier she provided with her hand, I found myself gasping for air and instinctively gripping onto her thumb with both hands. She kept me steady as I found my footing, and craned my neck to meet her eyes. She looked down at me in shock and concern, “What was all that for? You scared the shit out of me…”
“I was trying to apologize. Now I think we can both see how much that disagrees with me in practice…” She broke into a brilliant smile and peered down at me, nodding her head in agreement as she shrugged and giggled. I’d be lying if I didn't admit I enjoyed the sound of her laugh. I suddenly felt quite warm, surrounded by her fingertips. I could even feel her heartbeat beneath the surface of her skin.
My heart leapt to my throat, as I felt her eyes continue to gaze down at me. She’d stopped her bemused chuckling, instead staring at me in a way that made me squirm beneath her. Slowly, slowly, she guided her pointer finger beneath my left arm, to keep me upright, and very gently, she passed the pad of her thumb across my chest in a rhythmic back and forth motion. I froze. All her attention was on me, balanced carefully inside the hollow of her hand. What was she doing? Could she feel how hard my heart was hammering against my sternum?
Her eyes flickered in concern, as the motion of her thumb ceased, in the direct center of my sternum, “Your little chest is pounding away like crazy—” Well, that answers that. My face flushed bright red, as she suddenly sunk lower, so that her chin was resting on the crook of her right elbow, and the tip of her nose was a mere few inches from where I stood, propped up between her fingers. She was so close, I could see a silhouette of myself reflected in the iris of her eye. She’d returned to stroking me, I stiffened, barely able to keep my composure as she hit me with her next question, her voice soft, low and intimate, “Is this okay?”
It took every ounce of willpower I had left in me to keep from trembling. She was so close, so warm, I could smell her fragrant hair, feel the heat of her hand, all while I took in those bright, brilliant eyes, awaiting my answer. I was completely overwhelmed, surrounded by her on all sides. I couldn’t breathe. I needed air. I couldn’t breathe. I needed out.
“No! No it’s not!” I finally choked out, “You’re too close. Please, just put me down.”
Her face fell. It wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for. She blinked once, twice, and then obediently did as she was asked, quietly whispering “Sorry” as she prepared to let me go. Too bad, she has no right to fluster me like that. I told myself that over and over as she gently sat me down in my chair.
We were right back where we started. A tension palpable in the air between us. Even as I got exactly what I asked for, I felt an ache where the heat of gentle fingers had just been. My heart continued to pound away against my breast as I wrestled with the confusing thing that had just taken place.
She didn’t say another word and I followed suit, much too embarrassed and shaken to fill in the gaps between our clicking, swiping and staring at screens with any polite conversation. I sank in my chair. What was happening to me here? All I’d ever wanted was the chance to research this compelling case in harmonious, blessed silence. But now that I had my greatest desire, I suddenly felt hollow inside. It wasn’t possible that my heart had blossomed toward this human beside me.
Wasn’t it?
Just then, as I had paused in my notes, to sneak a glance up at her, I found myself catching her eye, as she appeared to be doing the same thing, in reverse. Blushing hard, I tore my gaze away, staring flatly at the screen before me.
Try as I may to read and reread the lines of black text on white pixels, one thought kept ricocheting through my skull: what did she make of all this? I couldn’t bring myself to ask, so I imagined I’d never know.
I tried to ignore these feelings, leaning into the article I’d found on veterinary law in the state of Massachusetts, even despite my elevated blood pressure. That is, until the sound of her clearing her throat to get my attention became impossible to ignore.
Reluctantly, I turned over my shoulder to face her, admittedly a little anxious to see just what I’d find there. When I turned, I was confronted with her finger and thumb directly before me and pinched between them was a delicate paper flower, a daisy, I’d made for her seemingly forever ago. Then, her voice, soft and strained rang in my ears, “I’m sorry I can’t ever seem to get this right… I’m just a big dumb human that upsets you. I’m sorry for that.”
And that right there was a proper, genuine apology, unlike the half baked defensive excuse I’d thrown at her earlier. Guilt creeped in as I realized what I’d done. Sighing, I made up my mind, and as I leaned over and clutched the fake flower from her grip, I formulated my response, “Will you do me a favor?”
“Of course, anything.” She meant that in earnest.
“Will you pick me up and hold me directly before you?” My past self would have a hard time believing this series of events to be true, and yet, here I was, requesting to be handled by a human. She hesitated for a moment, watching me closely for signs of regret or discomfort, before pinching me between her thumb and forefinger, and placing me inside her waiting palm. She then lifted me up to her face, her eyes confused and cautious, “Closer…” She inched me forward, “Still closer…” her brow furrowed, I was already less than half an inch from the bridge of her nose, “Almost there…” Now she held me so close I was hovering over her face, far too near for her eyes to be able to focus on me anymore. My chest practically brushed against her eyelashes as I reached up and over, planting the flower I’d made for her in the nest of waves and curls that was her hair. With that, I gently patted her on the forehead and whispered, “Okay, all done.”
She pulled her hand back to a reasonable distance again, staring at me with delighted eyes, “Did you just…?”
“Natalie, I owe you an apology. I’m not particularly fond of them, so don’t get used to it…” I sat up a bit straighter with my arms crossed, as she broke into a knowing smile, “But the way I see it… we’re a team now, unlikely and mismatched as that is. And I… I could have done better by my partner and I’m sorry. I was dismissive and I rejected your simple kindnesses. As you can clearly see, those sorts of things don’t come naturally to me, so I can’t promise an entirely different response in the future. But what I can say is I’ll endeavor to see things from your perspective once in a while. And… maybe on a very special occasion, I’ll allow you to touch me gently again…” my throat tightened and color rose in my cheeks again at the mere mention.
By the time I’d finished speaking, she’d broken into a wide grin, “You’re such a little liar! I knew you liked it, that’s why you were all squirmy and red faced. I’m gonna get you to admit you like me… someday, it’s gonna happen. I fluster you, don’t I? Like right now… you’re all kinds of squirmy. Look at you, you can’t even look me in the eye!”
“Natalie! Don’t make me regret this the second I say it! I am not flustered!”
“Suuure you’re not. Of course not, Little Nightmare. No flushed face and heaving chest here! Nope! Totally calm and collected…”
“Natalie!!!”
“You’re too easy to tease! It’s not my fault!”
“I’m never apologizing to you again if this is how you’re going to weaponize my vulnerability against me!”
“Oh woe is Alexander! Look how he’s being so horribly mistreated!” She made a big fuss, rolling her eyes and gesturing with her free hand. I admit it made me smile, for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough for her to pick up on, “I saw that! The little robot does have a sense of humor. How delightful!”
“I despise you and everything you stand for.”
“Yup! So sweet and funny! Just an absolute sweetheart of a little man. Nothing about this is alarming at all. I should definitely not plan on sleeping with one eye open tonight.” She cupped her chin in her free hand, biting her lip as she smiled at me, “But seriously though, thank you, Little Nightmare. I can see you’re trying, and that’s all I can ask for. I promise not to push your boundaries… too much. But I’m sorry if I can be overwhelming at times. Are we okay?”
I sucked in a sharp breath, before nodding, “In spite of my better judgment, I suppose I’ll allow for forgiveness this one time. Don’t get used to it, I’ve got my eye on you, Miss Marquez.” I raised my brows and flashed her an expectant look.
“Alright! The dynamic duo is back!! Wonder Twin powers… Activate!!” She held out a knuckle of her clenched fist, presumably so I would bump her back with my own.
“No. Never. Don’t even try.”
“Eh, it was worth a shot… back to it, then?” She gently caressed my knee with her thumb as she asked. I nodded curtly.
Soon, I found myself lowered back down to the level of her elbow, still close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of her. I did my best to clear my mind and focus on my work, but, I have to admit, any time she shifted in her seat,or hummed (badly) to herself, I couldn’t help but get a bit distracted.
Maybe a life like this wasn’t so bad. Maybe, just for now, I could learn to like this, Wonder Twin Powers and all.
#Whew! This was a rollercoaster ride!#Will they? Won't they? Will Alexander cry or scream?#Porque no los dos?#They are both such a mess#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t community#g/t writing#g/t related#g/t angst#size difference#a fraction of justice#g/t fluff#oc:alexander#oc:natalie
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Scientists on a quest in Alaska's mysterious depths have made an astonishing discovery - a “weirdly unfamiliar golden orb” lurking on the sea floor! What could it be?
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Mount Shasta- April 2022
“DJ(JD?) was hung today. He was a good boy.”
The first time I read that line was on the first trip I brought Erin up to spend time alone with my grandparents. On the bottom shelf of the bedside table in the room we slept in, that’s where the book was.
That’s my grandma’s aunt’s journal she kept on their homestead. Both my grandma and grandpa grew up there. I can’t remember if his name was DJ or JD -I should have written it down- he was my grandma’s cousin. Johnson was his last name, that is my grandmother’s maiden name too.
It was the books we bought on this trip together that I think helped me solve who he was.
It was another fire that brought us to where we live today. A literal fire. The 2021 Greenwood fire. The lake we live on now is a seaport, the lodge needed people to help feed the firefighters they were housing. They were still open and operating as well. I served in the restaurant, we saved up enough to take our first vacation alone together.
I wanted to see the ocean. I’ve never seen it before. We were going on a road trip to California. First stop would be Omaha to see family, and Jimmy/his girlfriend. We rented a car and drove the first 13 hours.
This squirrel didn’t want Erin’s trash in the can.
In Iowa we drove next to a tornado. The winds at the rest stop were so strong they tore the flag.
We spent the night at Jimmy’s and his now fiancé’s place our first night. Jimmy constantly brings up how embarrassed he is of their dog, Lemon, and how she treated me when we finally met in person for the first time. Just stared at me and made grumbling chirps. Single barked, and left uninterested. Sour. She warmed up, you just have to be patient.
The four of us shared food, went to the zoo, then parted ways. Erin and I went to my parent’s house. My brother and his wife came too. We all looked together at some pictures my dad put on a flash drive for me to take with.
One of those was of the golden orb weaver that would visit us at our garden year after year, I was thrilled. Vibrating. I didn’t even ask him to do this, and it was one of the few “photos of a photo” that he put on that flash drive.
My dad taught me about leaving bread crumbs.
He loves symbolism. He also has to process and communicate differently than when I was a child, has for almost two decades now. There’s nothing wrong with that.
My dad taught me to catch grasshoppers, and give them to the orb weavers. The grasshoppers were eating our vegetables. It was such a rush pouncing on them, and fascinating to watch the orb weavers spin around and around.
Spiders spin their webs with intent. They are traps for fuel. Some people are scared of spiders, but they are good omens. Blood drinking insects, vegetation eating insects, things that steal from humans… all can fall into an orb weaver’s trap.
What was my dad telling me. Was he wanting me to become the orb weaver? Evolve and spin my dreams and webs to help people? Trap the bugs myself?
It doesn’t feel right.
Did he want me to find an orb weaver? Offer them grasshoppers that would in some weird way, help humanity? Protect the gardens.
My mom’s voice is warning me. The first nightmare I ever had was when I was around four or five. In real life, she caught me in the garden feeding the orb weavers. Panic and scolding.
“What are you doing?! Spiders are venomous, if you get bit you will die.”
She didn’t give me time to explain. Dad taught me how to identify an orb weaver versus a black widow by their bodies, legs, and webs. I knew what not to feed.
We went inside and washed my hands. That night I had my first nightmare, a giant tarantula the size of a t-rex was crushing all the trailers in the park. I was so afraid, when I woke up I felt silly though. Tarantulas can’t get that big, can they?
I have to find the right type of spider. I don’t know how to find my orb weavers, my dad’s mind changed before we could graduate from identifying spiders to people.
Pt. 1/6
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Hey hey! :] From the design asks, face, motion, and roots for Adina and Aqun (and/or anyone else you'd like)?
face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?
Adina: …honestly, all of her features are pretty intense, but the first thing someone would notice is the side swept bright red hair and the golden earrings, because those are hard to miss on purpose. She has a pretty angular face with a strong jaw and defined cheekbones, a wide nose and wide eyes, and doesn’t really have a resting expression; her face is always doing something. I also randomly decided that she has fangs, even though it’s not a thing for Qunari even in my headcanon. I guess if you spend your formative years with one foot in the Fade, your physique gets a little weird?
Aqun: in-universe, the first thing an observer’s eye would be drawn to is probably his “horns”, since they’re equally weird to a Qunari and a non-Qunari, and the other standout feature would probably be his nose. He also has a pretty angular face, a hooked nose with a prominent nose bridge, and narrower eyes. His resting expression is this vaguely contemplative/serious/concerned look that does Not change unless there’s something significant to react to.
motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?
Both of them are very in control of their bodies, but they’re trained for different purposes, and it shows in the way they move.
Adina’s movements are very bouncy and fluid, kind of like a dancer’s or acrobat’s. She’s really good at controlling her center of mass, so either when doing something purposefully or just in a casual situation, you’ll see her shift her weight a lot. She’s a middle-to-close range fighter, as well as a mage, so she’s used to her surroundings changing quickly and chaotically, and the way she moves allows her to respond to whatever’s happening around her. She dresses to accomodate that, too; her clothes are pretty simple and loose, and she only wears jewelry that doesn’t get in the way of what she’s doing (so bracelets and earrings, no necklaces or rings).
In a more casual setting, she gestures a lot (and I mean A Lot) and just generally takes up a lot of space.
Aqun, on the other hand, is a ranged fighter; usually, he’s not engaging with an enemy directly, and his usefulness in combat depends on how quickly and precisely he operates his equipment/weapons. Unlike Adina, whose whole MO is “I’ll throw myself in a direction in the wildest way possible and still make it work for me perfectly”, Aqun’s movements are very… optimized. Everything is purposeful and quick and the best way to get from A to B, and that, again, applies both to combat and daily life. If Adina is constantly shifting, Aqun is noticeably still; you wouldn’t be able to describe it unless you were looking for it, but it really just boils down to him not making any unnecessary movements ever. Even when he’s fidgeting, it’s still a conscious, purposeful action.
Clothes-wise, he also dresses comfortably and simply, but not as loosely as Adina.
roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?
…okay, so here’s the thing, I didn’t really… think that much about their outfits? Adina’s turned out to be iconic (to me, at least), but it was 100% a happy accident. I knew that she would wear something loose and comfortable, and I came up with a very warm-climate outfit (shirt, vest, baggy pants that end at the knee), and then I just decided that she wears it everywhere because her body heat auto-adjusts to her surroundings because uhhh magic. (sorry, Dorian, I guess if you lived in the woods and learned from the spirits as a child and also used your entire body as an arcane focus, you wouldn’t have to suffer from the cold)
Aqun’s outfit is just Shirt And Pants. I. That’s it. I also gave him a vest in the newest iteration of it. It’s a gift from Adina. If you cosplayed him, the body paint and horns would probably take a while, but you would Not have to worry about the outfit.
Thanks for the ask!
Character design asks
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unSHAKEN unAFRAID unDYING
June 2003.
Karakura, Japan.
"Why aren't we going?"
"It's not our war, Jinta."
"But it's Hayden's? Like… he's like us. He doesn't even live there anymore. I don't even know why Kisuke had to go."
"Yes you do."
"Well why isn't Tessai going, then?"
"He has to be here to keep the world from breaking. Or fix it, if things really go south."
"So… what… we're supposed to sit here with our thumbs up our asses?"
"Jinta… I'm worried about them, too. But we've got to protect here. To make sure there's a 'here' to come back to."
He hears their conversation as he passes the door to their sleeping quarters, and a thin line forms over his lips. The Shouten has always been perhaps the third place he has truly regarded as home. A safe space where he might plan his next moves in life, or simply enjoy the presence of friends who understand his plight. The events of Aizen, The Fullbringers, and many other conflicts did not require his aide.
The fact Kisuke would contact him for this war, it made him uneasy. It meant that he needed every asset to him to ensure victory, or at least something resembling victory.
Kisuke however was not the person to brief him on the events which had transpired in the five days since he was originally contacted, that honor belonged to Tessai. He filled him in enough about the events which happened, those who died, the havoc wrecked on Hueco Mundo. To think Chojirou dead, it caused a pain in Hayden that he hadn't felt in some years.
He wonders if Yamamoto-sama will forgive his departure. He wonders what the old man will feel to see him again. Now is not the time for such thoughts as he prepares to depart for the Soul Society. The fighting is underway, and Tessai prepares the machine to transport him directly to the Soul Society. Hayden himself is pacing endlessly, the words of his mission replaying in his head.
Kisuke wishes for him to apply all his skills in warfare and knowledge to preserve the manpower of the Gotei. It appears his half-century in the Human world has given him unique insights to best defend against the Quincy. How to preserve their fighting force where needed so that in the end of this war the Gotei is not left totally shattered. And of course, his own strength to include his Bankai will be it's own force multiplier.
"—has fully mobilized then the most logical recourse is the destruction of their base of operations in turn. It would pressure them to retreat or split their forces."
"…"
"You know that wouldn't be a concern."
"…"
"What do you have then?"
"…"
"Fine."
His head turns to look at Yoruichi, she's been busy with her own mission. He knows she's talking to Kisuke, they're looking at things on a larger operational scale; he's not insulted to not be included in those conversations. His mind is more geared towards his own mission, and to split his focused would be a disservice to the cause as a whole.
But still his eyes linger on her. She has been his enemy once before, unknowingly. And his ally as well. Now they are on the same side, and his feelings regarding her is as turbulent as ever. He supposed that makes them friends, family even? He isn't sure. He does know he'd die for her, or any of those within their little operation to save the world.
He makes his way over to her, stopping next to her his emerald irises meet her golden orbs.
"Be seeing you, Coyote."
His stride continues, his ride is ready.
@midnightactual
@uraharashouten
#v. the masked forged by injustice . rogue shinigami#drabble. memoir of a soldier#headcanon. fog of war#//credit to dialouge to tagged blogs
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