#which makes me think this is something else entirely
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Creations Dance
Danny likes to dance in the night sky while flying in his new ghostly form which is very ethereal holding glimpses of different parts of space and creations unknown, this continues even after he moves to Gotham.
The sky around him becomes his stage,
A stage that matches him and follows his lead.
Gotham has never had such clear skies, able to see each and every star shining brightly.
Twinkling in many colours almost seeming to dance alongside Danny,
Sharing his joy in their existence.
~
Duke had seen the new phenomenon that was Gotham's skies, who hadn't it was all he would hear people talking around him anytime he left the house, speaking of which were also discussing the same.
Bruce, Tim, and Barbara all researching to see what had caused the change, their bet so far was on magic but not sure who or what was causing it or the reason why.
He had seen the others also poking around seeing if they could find a lead.
But the most curious of all being Jason's new demeanor, ever since the night skies had changed he seemed to calm down almost seeming peaceful.
Which don't get him wrong was a great thing to happen but the timing of it all was too weird, honestly even Bruce was tense about the sudden turn around in demeanor.
So with everyone else occupied he decided he might as well go and enjoy the night sky, it was a very amazing view to miss out on.
He had discovered a new spot a bit far from home but it was quiet and private and would make the perfect spot to stargaze comfortably without being interrupted.
~
He had fallen asleep accidentally but something had woken him up.
He noticed that it was cold, cold enough that he could just barely see his breath in the air in front of him which should not be possible since it was almost summer, had Mr.Freeze escaped?
Looking around now alert he caught a flash of something up above his head.
Looking up he saw..light and darkness and so many things that his mind couldn't comprehend rather less describe.
His eyes shifted trying to make out what he was seeing, in the center was a being..dancing?
The being seemed to feel his eyes on them because in the next moment they turned to stare at him.
He could feel the weight of their eyes on him their entire presence focused around him radiating power and joy.
Continuing to stare at each other the only thing Duke could think of was,
"You're gorgeous.."
Duke snapped back realizing he had said that out loud his face warming, but the being in front of him seemed delighted.
"Thank you! I'm surprised you're able to see me."
"It's hard not to, you were dancing so happily I could feel it in my chest."
They-he? floated closer
"If you liked my dancing so much you could continue to visit me here to see."
" If you're okay with it then I would really like that, my name is Duke."
"It's a date then Duke! You can call me Danny."
~
God what was he going to tell the others? He found the cause for the change in Gotham but Danny seemed to be good, not a villain.
Well he'll keep it a secret for a while more right now he had to prepare for his date!
~
Duke sees Danny dancing around in the sky: "We'll have a winter wedding."
~
Duke seeing the Bats stressing and losing sleep trying to figure what's going on: "Should I say something? Hm nah."
~
Danny Dancing around in the sky while Duke is in the background being a supporting bf cheering him on with pom poms: "That's my boyfriend woo~!"
~
The bats for some reason arguing about each other's past relationships and crushes
Steph pointing at Dick: You're the one with the strangest taste seriously out of everyone in this family Duke and I are the only ones with normal taste! Right Duke!"
Duke " My Boyfriend is a Being/Ancient Ghost of Space That Most of the Time Doesn't Look Human/Humanoid" Thomas: * face sweating while he tries to sneak out of the room* "Umm..*voice crack* y-yeah."
~
I really enjoyed writing this one, I don't see a lot of Duke/Danny, but the works I've read are all so wonderful ♡
~
Just an Idea
#nightlight#duke x danny#Space Acient Danny au#duke thomas#signal dc#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny phantom#dc x dp#batman#danny fenton#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#dcxdp
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[ Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! ]
based on this post
"Please, please, oh fuck-"
The pitiful pleads and moans of your boyfriend were the only sounds filling the room as you rode him. He may have been a King, but right now he sounded more like a bitch than anything else.
His beautiful, pale blonde hair was disheveled, sticking up in various places. His violet colored eyelids were drooped so low on his eyes you'd think he was asleep. The small expanse that was his chest rose and fell in erratic patterns, heartbeat hammering behind his ribs. A light sheen of sweat covered his naked, pale body. He was completely and utterly fucked out at this point.
The sight made you smirk proudly, sticking true to your agonizingly slow pace in a means to torture him.
Lucifer had been talking big all evening; going on and on about he was the best you'd ever have when it came to your sex life; how he could make you cum in just a couple minutes without breaking a sweat; the ways he could get you flustered just from cracking a few charming jokes.
He had been entirely too cocky, which is how the both of you ended up in your current position; you seated on his cock, riding him, with him beneath you, whining like a loyal subordinate rather than a King.
"Okay- okay, I'm sorry! Please-" His desperate whine of a voice came through your thoughts, dispersing them as he had started to squirm underneath you. The slow pace you had chosen to ride him at was not at all ideal, nor was it something he was used to.
You regained focus, peering down at your wreck of a boyfriend and smiled, filled with both traces of affection and triumph.
"Please what, Luci?" You cooed softly, hands planted firmly on his chest, making sure to keep that slow rise and fall of your hips steady. You swore he almost pouted at that.
"Please, just- please! I-I'll be good, I promise!" He panted, sharp teeth glistening with the amount of saliva he had been able to produce within the past half-hour. When you did nothing but raise a skeptical eyebrow at him, he practically exploded.
"Fuck! Just l-let me cum, please! I-I can't take this! I need it, I-" He cried out, his whole heart seemingly going into this confession of need and desire.
His pleas were coming out in ragged breaths now, giving way to the true desperation surging through his mind and body. Visible traces of previous and newly shed tears adorned his cheeks, making him all the more pretty in your eyes.
In response to his small outburst of sexual frustration, you just smiled softly down at him, allowing yourself to finally deflate your ego and up your movements, giving him what he so desperately craved. His loud, pornographic moan as a result of the sudden change was enough to have you clenching around him. It was worth it every time.
"Ohh, fuck- oh, honey, thank you. Fuck, fuck. Damn it, you feel fucking amazing; so perfectly made for this cock. T-too good f'me. Fuck, I-Im gonna cum, you're gonna make me cum, oh fuck, yes, yes, yes-!"
#hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader smut#lucifer morningstar smut#lucifer morningstar x reader smut#hazbin hotel x you#lucifer hazbin#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer#lucifer magne#lucifer x reader#xreader#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#i love luci#hazbin hotel season 1#hazbin#lucifer smut#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader
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I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.
Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.
My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.
Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.
And then the pandemic hit.
And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?
And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."
Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.
And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.
We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.
The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."
I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."
Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"
I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.
"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."
She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.
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AITA for making my sister lie about her gender for BOTH our financial gain?
Tw for mentions of transphobia, abuse, and suicide
I (26F she/her) and my sister (21X she/they) are both transgender. We're extremely low contact with our father, and moved out together at the first opportunity. Our parents are conservatives and emotionally abused us basically the entirety of our childhood, and after my mother died and after covid it only got worse (think alt-right, flat earther, qanon)
Basically, as much as I would love to go completely no-contact with our father I'm sticking it out in the lowest contact relationship I can manage. My father is severely transphobic, but we live on a "don't ask don't tell" kind of rule where even though we are both obviously queer and transgender (on HRT nonetheless) he just keeps pretending that nothing has changed.
Recently out of nowhere my sister has gotten extremely hellbent on the idea of telling him off in one last "fuck you" before cutting him off. I have been very vocally against this, even if I also would love to because:
1) if we blow this entire relationship up we'll be taken off the will and removed from life insurance, which equals over a fat MILLION as well as a full paid off property. You can imagine as two broke 20 y/os in this economy this is a literal dream. This is our one shot at getting a house and being financially stable.
2) she does not have to interact with him. I'm the one who has to do all the talking over text when he reaches out every few months. She does not see the texts where he misgenders/deadnames her. She herself hasn't had to interact with him beyond a short birthday wish for the past 5 years, so I don't think she has the right to blow this for the both of us just to get the final word
3) not to be crass but he might do it soon, and there's nobody left in his life who's going to talk him down off that ledge. Chances of success are pretty high. Family history of depression, no friends, he's dead to us already, he also made me suicidal from abuse so I have no empathy for him etc etc. Payout is less, but still 5% is life changing for us. Point is I'm not asking my sister to lie until she's 60 here.
Now I think the reason my sister is so focused on getting the final word *might* be related to that last point, wanting to get it in before he kicks the bucket. But I don't think it's a worthy tradeoff for everything else. I've told her that if she does something stupid and blows this for us, she'll have to find another roommate (I would not be kicking her out, I would move out, she just doesn't like the idea of living with anyone else but me).
So, AITA for making my sister lie about her gender to our father, just for a little while longer?
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i got yet another comment confused about mutagenicity's itatori so i guess i will write. what are these called. a shipping manifesto???
so first i will disclaim that this ship started as a joke and then proceeded to have me waffle around what i thought the dynamic would be, so some posts probably contradict each other. i was also on the fence about producing shippy content of tori with ANYONE for a while (i have very obviously changed my stance on this lmao)
so first, context. tori and itachi have a long, complicated history with each other. in plasticity, tori makes it clear she has no interest in fucking with itachi's goals, but she's also fully and demonstrably capable of doing just that, even by accident. she is also, by the events of mutagenicity, the only person in the entire world who knows his full backstory. he actively recruits her to konoha both because tori Knowing Things means he needs to keep an eye on her (because who the fuck knows what she will do) but also because he sees her as a valuable ally.
tori spends plasticity both with anxiety that itachi might do something horrible to her, resenting him for the power he holds over her, and then also low key enjoying his company. eventually she will realize he'd probably make her best possible ally.
in mutagenicity, they end up close friends. this is both because they're on the same team and also because they are fucked up adults in tweenaged bodies. who else are they supposed to hang out with? actual children? i don't think either would rank the other as their BEST friend, but they are pretty close. itachi respects tori's skills from day 1 and will defer to her on certain topics, which is not something he will do for most people. tori agrees to high treason to kill danzo for itachi with zero questions, conditions, or asking for anything in return, which does absolute wonders for itachi's affection for her. they end up with a deep, mutual trust for each other, and they enjoy each other's company
the part that started as a joke (and i'm leaving in because i think it's 1) funny, and 2) a great way to spotlight itachi's insane personality) is that itachi decides they should date without telling tori.
the reason for this is basically that his clan duty is to marry and have kids, so around age 16 mikoto starts shoving girls at him. the idea here is: the uchiha are progressive enough that his parents would prefer a love marriage for their son, but the marriage does have to happen, and itachi has yet to show romantic interest in literally everyone. itachi's issue with this is that he..... kind of hates other people. he doesn't want to date random teenage girls, but mikoto is a seasoned social manipulator and he keeps ending up in situations like "alone in the park with some girl and they're both eating ice cream HOW DID THIS HAPPEN." also now suddenly women are interested in him because he's a well-known celebrated genius important clan heir. his life? is hell?
and then he realizes all his problems would be solved if he simply got his own girlfriend. so he sits back and reflects on "women my age that i wouldn't hate spending time with" and the only answer is tori. so he starts inviting her places and obviously she says yes because they are friends and she enjoys spending time with him.
eventually tori figures out he's.... dating her? and she gets mad and breaks up with him because THAT'S AN INSANE THING TO DO, ITACHI. but then after she cools off she decides, actually, this is a great arrangement. she DOES like hanging out with itachi, but he does this annoying thing where he'll disappear for months because he's bad at socializing, and if they're dating she can strong arm him into not doing that. a lot of typical date activities are fun and she likes having an excuse to dress up. she likes making him pay for stuff (tori is also horrible). she likes the trickery/deception angle. she likes the social advantage of having someone she can make go with her to events, the fact that having a boyfriend means sexual harassment goes down, the bragging rights, etc.
so tori goes back to him and proposes they "fake date" for mutual benefit. dw, itachi, tori is also a seasoned manipulator, and this will go SO MUCH BETTER for you if you let her be in charge of it. and itachi is like "she is SO right, what was i thinking, tori loves fucking with people's heads--" and they start dating again!
except they aren't like..... romantic. like, both of them, as people, are not super into romance. they don't give off Dating Vibes to most people, unless you're part of their inner circle, in which case you're just witnessing itachi and tori discovering they have a mutually compatible approach to dating and romance. they're both treating it like some sort of long-term mission because they're both morons in the same direction, but if you're like deidara or shisui or someone, you've just had the horrible realization that they're probably going to marry each other.
itachi and tori think they are in cahoots. it is only a bonus that the cahoots are fun. however yes at some point when you've committed hard enough and are having enough fun, the cahoots are simply a committed relationship
tori: hey, are you ever going to go find a wife? wasn't that the plan?
itachi: (imagines dating literally anyone else) (imagines being less close to tori)
itachi: (don'tlikethat.jpeg)
itachi: .......do you want to marry me
tori: hm
tori: (imagines not being with itachi any more) (doubt.jpeg)
tori: yeah that sounds good
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okay, so i've seen some people claim that tim minear is an avid buddie shipper and that he's slowly but surely laying the groundwork for buck and eddie to become canon in the future and...
i'm just thoroughly confused about this assertion.
i'll preface this by saying i'm very new to the fandom, so i'm prepared to be wrong about this. i'm aware i may lack crucial context because i've been here only so long. also, i don't know tim personally, so i obviously can't speak to his true intentions, but i'll make my case anyway.
i'll cite two RECENT comments by tim that i assume people might draw this conclusion from:
1. [?: There is a sect of the fandom that just wants 9-1-1 to be the Buck and Eddie show, and any cut that removes a second of them is going to get the same reaction. Nothing short of renaming the show "Christopher's Two Dads" is going to make them happy.] T: I totally get that. I even appreciate it. Which explains the entire first act of last night's episode. I kind of did for the Buck/Eddie fans (I mean I really do it for myself in the end). I just thought... they'd like it? Shrug. I liked it, so whatever.
2. Minear tells Rolling Stone that he hasn’t just been aware of fan reactions, he’s actually changed storylines in the past to avoid being accused of queerbaiting. But rather than help, he says it made the show worse. “Nobody wants to be accused of queerbaiting so I kind of stopped writing those characters together. And I think it hurt the show because I was so afraid to be accused of something that I wasn’t going where I would naturally go with the stories,” Minear says. “I just decided that I just have to write the thing that I think is right. I just have to be honest with the story I’m telling and let the chips fall where they may.”
now, i may be biased, but this doesn't read to me like he plans on buddie endgame at all.
while it's clear he loves the bond between buck and eddie and enjoys highlighting it in the show, saying he totally wants them to end up together feels like a reach.
he discusses being accused of queerbaiting in the past, which led him to backtrack a little and stop writing buck and eddie together. how does this suggest he did it because he wants buddie to become canon? if that were his intention he could have continued to drop more (apparent!) hints that buck and eddie may love each other in a non-platonic way. he wouldn't care about the accusations of queerbaiting so much, because he would be planning to make them canon all along. sure, there are external constraints that could prevent this from ever materializing, but that doesn't mean he couldn't write the dialogue in a clearly ambiguous way so that once he gets a pass and everyone else involved is on board with it, he could confirm that "yeah, you were right; it was a good ol' friends-to-lovers slow burn trope all along. congrats!!" no. instead he backtracked because he didn't want anyone to think he was writing buddie as anything other than a platonic relationship. that's it. but he eventually realized it doesn't really matter because people are going to think what they want to think regardless. and he obviously loves buck and eddie's friendship so he might as well just make the most out of it at this point. and if he ever feels like maybe it is a good time to turn their friendship into something more because it feels right for story, he'll go for it. but if not, he won't.
i see a lot of people claim buddie is a six-season-long slow burn, being carefully crafted right now for future canonization. and they say tim basically confirmed this. but i really can't see his comments being a confirmation of the sort.
if there are any quotes i'm missing that suggest otherwise, i would love to go through them. so if anyone's aware of any, please don't hesitate to hit me up.
but at the moment i believe y'all are just setting yourselves up for disappointment.
#i'm half asleep writing this#i don't even know if this makes sense#anyway#i'm open to discussion#if anyone has any thoughts on this i'll happily read through them#bucktommy#not tagging the other ship for reasons#evan buckley#tim minear
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sorry if this has been answered before, but what is your lineart process? like how do you do it/color it/anything else fancy i hope that makes sense 😭
Hi! So, it really depends on which works you're referring to.
I tried to do a general video recording (flashing tw, feel free to slow it down if you can. Idk how)
When you break it down to the basics, you can see that certain areas have a slightly different line weight. For example:
Here it is again without touch up (left) and with touch ups (right)
The big misconception I had during the peak of art advice era floating around is that for an art piece to be interesting, it has to have line weight everywhere. I would end up adding thickness to areas that didn't need it without understanding why we use line weight.
It has to make sense. (Unless you don't care which is also okay!)
Normally, I think how they teach you in foundational art is that it follows this logic:
add thicker lines on the opposing side you think the light would come from:
link explaining the concept better than me
Unconsciously, I work the same way but since 80% of my art has been self-taught through trial and error, so I don't know how to explain it as good. You can see I apply this concept here if we were to apply a light source.
Suddenly, it doesn't seem like I made areas thicker for no reason.
A lot of the times in my art where there is sudden line thickness that might not follow this logic above, it's usually because I want to emphasize dimension more than it technically needs. Once you understand foundations, you can break it however you want to.
Note: If it doesn't work for you, it doesn't have to have line weight if you don't care for it or it doesn't fit within your style. As people who do art, sometimes we like parts of other people's art but it doesn't work for our own workflows at all. The tough pill to swallow is that we may like how other people do art, but it's not comfortable for us.
If you wanted an explanation for why sometimes my sketch lines have two colors:
In the Harley one, I did something similar where I left bits of my sketch in the final piece: (my sketch was actually entirely in red and blue lines)
I hope this helps...
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Virgin! Doflamingo Headcanon
Pairing: YANDERE VIRGIN! Doflamingo x Female Reader
Warnings: YANDERE DOFFY! loss of virginity! Vaginal penetration! Fingering! Dirty talk/teasing! Pussy drunk Doffy! mating press! Oral sex (male and female receiving)! Public sex! Misuse of d.f. Powers! Doffy with a Praise kink (fight me on this lol!)
*Author's Note: An idea that popped in my head while chatting with my friends on discord that I finallllyyy got around to posting lol*
*banner*
VirginDoffy! Who was so focused on murder and overtaking the whole world that he completely forgot about sex all together…well forgot is a strong word more like it just never interested him. Sex wasn’t something that was in the forefront of his brain, murder and destruction, power, things like that.
VirginDoffy! Who enjoyed stringing women up and fingering them till his heart was content, using them more like puppets to hear their cries but finishing the job never interested him. Well not with the women in Dressrosa or other kingdoms yet.
VirginDoffy! Who was sitting on his throne one day when it suddenly dawned on him that he’s never actually sunk his cock into a woman before. Usually getting bored rather quickly before he ever actually fucked them. That all changed when he saw you one day strolling along in the streets of Dressrosa.
VirginDoffy! Who you can’t tell me wouldn’t be a total yandere following you around the city, not talking to you yet but silently observing your every move. Having a woman peg his interest in this way was new afterall so he’d literally become a stalker. You wouldn’t notice him at all but everyone else around you would.
VirginDoffy! Who would pay attention to your everyday routine and how you always get a morning tea or coffee with your favorite muffin. Going early to pay your tab in full for the next month leaving you in total shock but he was left more stunned when you still went out of your way to leave a tip. WHICH! Made him go back and tip for the next month as well hoping you’d get the hint to save your money.
Paying attention to how you eyeballed all the fancy dress shops and shoe stores with longing in your eye before sighing and going to the bargain shop on the far side of town.
VirginDoffy! Who literally follows you home and goes back when you’re not there to rummage through your things finding out who you are and what size you are instead of just holding a conversation with you.
VirginDoffy! Who goes back to all the stores you stop at and buys you all the prettiest dresses and shoes that you tend to stare at from the window. Leaving them at your door with flowers and a card that tells you to meet him at one of the best restaurants in the entire kingdom.
You think it’s a secret admirer and smile as you pick up the beautiful dress and twirl in your room with excitement. Getting all dolled up wearing the gifts you head out toward the meeting spot with a big smile on your face, glossy lips dropping in shock when you finally step inside the extravagant place. “Right this way your table is waiting for you.” The host says with a bow as he takes your shawl and leads you to the far back with a reserved sign, close to the stage where a live orchestra was playing Sad Romance by Thao Nguyen Xanh. It was one of your favorites and you sat down in your seat totally mesmerized barely noticing when Doflamingo came up behind you.
“Is it all to your liking?” He asks, catching you off guard with a little gasp that makes him smirks. “Oops~” Doflamingo chuckles as he circles the table taking his seat. Your glossy lips catch his attention as they’re parted slightly in shock at seeing none other than Doflamingo himself. “Y-yes it’s all amazing. I just…”
Raising a brow as he takes a sip of his wine that the waiter quickly poured upon his arrival, “Wasn’t expecting me?” He questions and you simply nod, making him grin. “What can I say…you’ve caught the eye of a King.”
VirginDoffy! Who asks you tons of questions while wining and dining you, noticing how nervous you are and tending to ramble because of it. A trait he found oddly endearing. Simply giving you little hums and nods of acknowledgment as you ate.
VirginDoffy! Who asks you to dance as the violin and pianist continue to play. His hands and eyes roaming all over your body in the tight fitting dress, his actions making your breath hitch and body heat up. Doflamingo’s hands are already holding you with a possessive touch that makes you practically melt in his grasp, eyes staring in awe up at him.
VirginDoffy! Who despite never having sex he can tell by the look in your eye that he has you completely trapped in his sinister web, one that you’ll never escape from once he’s had you.
VirginDoffy! Who’s hands slowly trail down your back to your ass as he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Would you like to accompany a King back to his chambers?” The question makes you shiver as you whisper back a shaky ‘yes’. Quickly leading you out of the restaurant after that and into his limo where he wastes no time crashing his lips to yours.
Your hands wrapping around him to scratch at his scalp, tongue swirling around his in a clumsy kiss. You thought it was all the wine but little did you know the true reason behind his bewildered state. Doflamingo was groaning into your mouth as he pulled you into his lap, the smell of the perfume he purchased you was loud in the close proximity and it made his head spin. The strong floral, sweet scent smelled so enchanting on your skin that he couldn’t help but groan as he trailed sloppy kisses down your neck making you whimper.
“Um…sir…we’re here.” The driver nervously interrupts and gets a glare of Doflamingo and a loud ‘out’ that makes him scurry away leaving the both of you alone. “Ah~” You moaned out as you felt Doflamingo grind into your hips, feeling his rather huge bulge through both of your clothes.
VirginDoffy! Who’s so enraptured by pleasure and your scent that you literally have to tap his shoulder to get his attention. “D-Doflamingo~ Can…can we go to your room?” You whine as he continues making your head spring with each kiss that travels lower towers the valley of your breast, his large hands gripping your ass. Hearing your request and seeing the look of lust on your face only has him grin as he kisses at your jaw.
VirginDoffy! Who can’t help but warn you of what was to come. “You know once I have you in my room I can’t ensure that you’ll be leaving anytime soon.” His grin only grows as you tell him you understand, greedy lips finding your own at the sound of your equal eagerness. “Oh my poor dove~ you don’t even realize the cage that you’ve flown yourself into.”
VirginDoffy! Who leads your heaving form to his room, your hair and gloss already a mess just from an intense makeout session.
VirginDoffy! Who once in his luxurious room wastes not even a second to literally rip your dress off you. Pushing you down on his large plush bed making you squeal in shock at how quickly he spreads your legs. Kissing up from your legs, long fingers running along the sparkly heels that adorned your feet as he spread your legs more into a vulnerable position.
“Already soaking this pathetic lace you’re wearing.” Doflamingo chuckles against your thighs, nipping the skin before sucking marks into your plush thighs. Trailing up slowly before using one of his hands to push your panties to the side before diving in to take a long lick at your cunt.
VirginDoffy! Who has zero skills at eating your cunt but wasn’t stupid and knew to listen to every little reaction that you made. Any hitch in your breath, moan or whimper you let out only fueled the large man’s ego to dive further into your cunt. Long tongue working wonders to fuck into your sopping wet hole, circling around making your back arch as he sloppily kisses your aching clit. “AH~ Dof~Holy shit!” You cry out barely able to moan out his name as he sucks on the sensitive bud harder.
VirginDoffy! Who’s hands literally can’t keep still. Running up and down all over your body, squeezing and groping your tits to run down your waist to pinch and claw at your thighs before moving back up with hunger. His tongue never gets enough of your taste and only eats your pussy with more fire in his chest. Never understanding how he hasn’t done this before when you sounded so sweet in his strong grasp.
VirginDoffy! Who was starstruck when he finally started to sink his long fingers deep in your dripping pussy, tongue never letting up on your clit even as you pulled at his blonde hair. “Do~ah~Dof-fuck~!” His name dragged into a curse from your lips that had him grin wickedly, tongue flicking your bundle of nerves to drive you insane.
“Oh fuckfuckfuck I’m gonna cum~ Doffy shit! How are you so good at this?” Your moaned out question has him pulling back with a sinister laugh as he also wonders the same thing considering he’s never done this before. Doflamingo’s greedy eyes looking down to where your wet pussy is swallowing two long fingers of his, your hands gripping the sheets beside your head. Your legs were trembling, heels digging into the plush blankets as you thrashed around. Screams only turning to a loud shriek as he curled them into that spot that made you gush, his brow raising at the magnificent sight.
VirginDoffy! Who can’t help but lean back down, licking you completely clean with a luscious moan at the taste of you. Pulling down his pants to hungrily crawl up your body kissing your skin up along the way making you breathe heavier.
VirginDoffy! Who is way too big for his own good and once he's dipping his long cock inside you needs you to literally beg him to stop or he'll keep going. Drunk on the feel of you wrapping around him until your nails are drawing blood from scratching at his chest so hard.
“Shitshitshit too much too~ fucking much! Dammit just wait!” You cry out not even aware of how much blood you drew from the man, eyes blurry from tears. His body shivering at the pleasure wrapped around his cock and the stinging pain of your nails. Doflamingo’s breath is coming out in huffs as he leans down to suck marks on your neck, his fingers clawing at the sheets for some type of self control to stay still but it only lasts so long. “I’m not a man with much patience.” He’ll tell you, making you whimper as you feel him grind into you.
Sucker punching the air out of you as he rocks into you with unskilled hips, is cock so big it did all the work for him. Doflamingo went on pure instincts and pleasure, kissing your body and stringing your legs up to stay wide open for him. Long cock pounding into you until you scream out his name for the whole kingdom to hear.
VirginDoffy! Who immediately grows addicted when you cum around his cock, needing to feel it over and over again. Your pussy gushing around his cock as he pumps you over and over full of his seed.
VirginDoffy! Who mentally wishes he traps you forever with his child so you never leave the man. Your slumped form lay on his bed alongside with him both breathing heavy as his mind raced with thoughts of what to do with you the next round when he has gathered the energy again. Now that he’s had you don’t think you’ll be able to run. Like a bird you’ll be forever caged to quench his ever growing lust.
“Don’t think you’ll be able to leave me now my dear. It seems I’ve grown quite obsessed.”
#one piece#one piece smut#honeys works 🍯#one piece headcanons#one piece smut headcannons#x female reader#one piece x female reader#doflamingo smut#donquixote doflamingo#doflamingo one piece
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You've mentioned that you hc Reigen as ace, can you elaborate?
I agree w/ that but can't sort my thoughts out well enough to make a coherent analysis ;w;
Yeah, that's the vibe he gives me. No concrete "evidence" and I don't care all that much about the sexual orientations of fictional characters, but I guess for me, the headcanon comes down to three things:
1) Reigen is super disinterested in other people being attracted to each other. I feel like there are several small examples of this, but first one that comes to mind is that case with the esper who can astral project and uses it to stalk his neighbor. When they discover this, Reigen has such a non-reaction. I've seen a lot of people bring up these panels
which, yeah, but when they find the culprit, Reigen also doesn't express much of an opinion. It's just "it's a stalker, stalking is bad and illegal, this is a job for the police." No more introspection from him, he immediately moves on, it doesn't interest him. Mob is the one doing all the reacting.
2) Reigen never resorts to flirting despite how he's known for bullshitting his way through anything else to complete a job. Like, no matter how horny Studio Bones is for the guy, they can't change this. He could deliberately capitalize on the fact that a considerable amount of his income comes from massaging middle-aged ladies who find him attractive, but he doesn't. It's accidental. It does not even seem like something Reigen thinks about.
3) Reigen's a self-conscious person, yet doesn't act like it bothers him that he's seemingly never been in a relationship before. He explicitly has a crisis over being lonely in the confession arc, but it's about friends and connections and doing something meaningful with his life. Romantic relationships don't factor into it, even though it easily could, considering it has great thematic relevance for Mob who spends the entire story being in love. Not that you can't fall in love with someone if you're ace, this goes a little bit into aro territory I guess, but either way.. it just gives me that vibe. The indifference.
I mean, even in chapter 99 when Mob point-blank asks Reigen for advice about Tsubomi, Reigen first asks Serizawa, then looks it up on his phone, exactly like he would with any other topic he doesn't know jack shit about.
Also, at the end of the scene, he muses about what's important in a relationship, and his conclusions just.. don't sound like he's talking about romance? To me?
I don't know, that entire scene gives me flashbacks to being younger and not yet knowing what asexuality (or aromanticism) is and having to navigate conversations like that without giving away that you fundamentally can't relate to this thing everyone else is so preoccupied with.
Them's my takes, I don't have much else to say about it.
#I remember a million years ago I set out to write an ace reigen post bc someone else asked me about it and now I guess I did#mp100 meta#reigen arataka#mob psycho 100#replies
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so, Batman #147… rambling about the difference in how Zdarsky portrays the two current Robins
this is a fantastic run for Tim, and very much written like a return to form of what plenty consider the best dynamic duo, but even more so "the best Robin". once Damian's introduced in this run, Zdarsky really makes sure you still know that lol
1. "We don't need anyone else" VS "I need my family"
#147 clearly exemplifies the contrast, so i'll go through it first. Damian, having fallen for Zurr's lie and accepted him as the real Bruce, goes so far as to say in the very first page "We don't need anyone else." it's cold colors, machinery, and hollow declarations of "father and son" for these two.
towards the ending, Tim has deduced where the real Bruce is hiding and brings him food expecting Bruce's knack for self-neglect. it's all warmth, sunshine, and mutual understanding - also a cute back and forth of "Batman and Robin" between them. on top of this, where Damian isolates Batman & Robin from family, Tim is the one to remind Bruce about "helping each other." Bruce heartily agrees with "I need my family" for a weighty end.
along with this parallel, from #138 Tim makes it clear that even in opposition, he's only ever trying to help Bruce. Damian was still on the wrong side with Zurr-induced-Bruce here at the time too 😭
2. Tim's independence as both a hero and partner
Tim is written as the ideal Robin to Bruce's Batman, and has made Robin its own independent hero on equal footing rather than a sidekick - it's made in statements by both Tim and Bruce, and through the entire narrative. he takes initiative and tries to foresee what would ultimately help Bruce. beyond being great partners, there's many bits showing their emotional connection ("i'm scared of being lost, but i'm more scared of losing you, Bruce" hit me like a bag of bricks). tbh this almost could be a Batman and Robin run lol
added the first panel from #126 of Tim declaring he's his own hero outside of Bruce, proven plenty especially in his backups in #131-134!! the other panels are a few highlights from #128, #130, and #135 of the partnership between Tim and Bruce
granted it's Zurr, but Damian is mostly seen following orders and given pensive looking panels when there's something concerning. While Tim continued to represent Batman's ideals during his own solo quest to find Bruce, Damian doesn't question or take action against "Bruce's" sudden shift in ethics
Batman #134 Backup - Tim showing support toward Toyman VS Batman #146 - Zurr and Damian confront Harley as she pleads about her change of heart
another kiinda parallel in #147 is Bruce acknowledging Tim's hard work to become Robin compared to Damian who's out here going Batman and Robin/Father and Son. i don't think it's an intended parallel but just the state of continuing to show Tim in a better light - Tim put in the effort "to become the second-best Robin" while Damian is Robin because..."son." supposedly less effort on his part too, because LOA.
second pic is from Batman/Catwoman The Gotham War: Scorched Earth, felt fitting to add since Tim mentions needing to "know everything" in both. and the humble brag. which ofc Tim believes Dick is the best!! but also. jic we didn't know Tim is the best current Robin sdfgh
3. Damian's blind loyalty as "Bruce's son"
there's a weight to the Robin title when regarding Tim, whereas Damian's "Robin" role is excess and counterintuitive. he's delegated to desperate sidekick to Bruce, as well as becoming an obstacle to the family. being Robin only seems significant to Damian in how it ties himself to his father, and his single Robin quality is a loyalty that's been written to an extreme fault. the only positive angle i could see this in is Zdarsky aiming to put Damian in a sympathetic light in how far Damian was willing to fall to stay by his father's side, hence, fooled by that nightmare story/confession. the problem with this is that we have not seen a single emotional connection between the two in this run, so why should we care about that relationship.
also, Damian constantly bringing up his position as Bruce's son just makes him look entitled? since Bruce rightfully expressed his claim of having the others as his sons too (with the unfortunate exclusion of his daughter)! so it's like a "lol you're not that special" vibe when looking at it from the outside?? ykw concerning #138, Damian saying "You're the one trying to destroy my father" also could have been in contrast to Tim saying "We'll help our dad" at the end.
Zdarsky seems to believe the only meaningful part of Damian being Robin is he's the son of Bruce, and not a single nod to any noble aspect Damian's achieved beyond that. we're constantly reminded of Tim's greatest hits as Robin, from taking on the mantle to pull Bruce out of darkness (#135, #138), mastermind a whole takedown (Gotham War: Scorched Earth), and always being on the same wavelength with Bruce etc. the entire run sings Tim's praise, and it's deserved!! my problem is how it's in stark contrast to Damian's portrayal of being the other Robin who's only special because he believes he's the greatest son and wants to be at Bruce's side.
so all this to say, if your fav is Tim YOU'RE EATING WELL!! personally as a chronic enjoyer of things, this has been an entertaining run! as a chronic enjoyer of Damian, it's definitely not for many of his fans at this point in time.
i did like this part!! his grin!!
#rambling#i'm not v good explaining things besides yelling about how cute Damian is but hopefully the observations are clear enough#instead of an essay i think i should pull up a conspiracy board of all the panels/lines and post it notes of my points#bc writing this has made me go cross eyed trying to verbalize parallels and differences 😭#like. Tim's Robin moments are stunners!! kickass or emotional scenes with or without Bruce!!#then Damian acts like everyone is beneath him and Bruce...when they've barely had any meaningful dialogue with eo#gave Zdarsky the benefit of doubt that Damian was pulling something similar to Morgan Ducard#but ofc that would mean he actually cared about any of Damian’s comics outside of his intro with Morrison 😭#i don't think Zdarsky hates Damian exactly just that he's a convenient character to use as a parallel since there's two Robins ALTHOUGH#thinking of the Batman sketch by Jorge or Zdarsky?? ITS A BLUR at NYCC and Zdarsky added a word bubble with 'Tim is the Best Robin' or smth#he wants to remind ppl of that every so often. like in the batman run. i wouldn't mind it if he wasn't putting my fav against that#especially when they're sharing the title but alas!#this run could be a great sendoff to Tim's Robin era and gaining a new title... or this is all Zdarsky fanboy lol which is fair#ANYWAY BACK TO WHIMSY!! TO DILLY DALLYING AND SHILLY SHALLYING!!
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https://x.com/stopkookminpls/status/1732138522063102076
The way Jk asks him to keep eating. No but seriously, i can understand friends simply caring about each other but there is something so boyfriend about JK's actions here. Is it just me?
One of my favourite things about Jungkook as a person is how attentive he can be to the people he cares about. This is something you see in how he takes care of his hyungs and even Bam and as you said, with Jimin, there is something that feels a little different.
When this Live started, Jimin asked if he could eat because he hadn’t eaten all day and Jungkook immediately told him he could eat and then this happened way later. So it means the entire time, Jungkook was still concerned about the fact that Jimin hadn’t eaten and just wanted him to eat. It’s the way he taps him the first time and just points to the food but when Jimin didn’t notice, he touched him again and this time used his words. 😩
This isn’t something i’ve seen Jungkook do with anyone else (atleast not in the same way). I mean, you see him showing care and concern about his hyungs’ well being but with Jimin it feels like he thinks Jimin is his responsibility or something lol.
In this clip too we have him telling Jimin to make sure he eats everything. I’m sure i don’t have to remind anyone that Jungkook is actually younger than Jimin. If Jimin or any of the other hyungs act like this towards Jk, it is understandable but Jk being the one babying his hyung is kinda…….
This is another very underrated moment which shows once again how interested Jk is when it comes to Jimin eating. Here we have Tae asking if anyone wants to trade half of their ham for half of his panini and Jimin volunteering to do it, then we have Jk saying Jimin can have some of his too and them proceeding to ask if he can cut it🥹
This one is not about food but just shows again how attentive Jk is to Jimin and his stomach lol. We see Jk getting water for Jimin even though Jimin didn’t even ask. He was just sitting there and but Jk made sure to get water for him to drink too.
And he did something similar here. Getting the bottle of water they were all sharing and giving it to Jimin to drink first before he drank himself.
And then one of the cutest videos of all. Jungkook making the biggest pancake for Jimin just because he had penalties to do. Jimin didn’t ask, as a matter of fact, Jimin wasn’t expecting it and was pleasantly surprised when Jungkook told him the biggest pancake was for him. All of these just scream “boyfriend” to me.
It’s the way Jk cares about Jimin’s well being and is attentive to him. Some of the other members might not even have remembered that Jimin had tons of penalties to do but not only did Jk remember, he made sure Jimin was well fed before embarking on the tasks. If this isn’t love, then i don’t know what love is. So anon, it isn’t just you. It’s you and the rest of us who have eyes and know how to use them.
There are many more moments but i cannot remember them all now. I guess Jin really knew what he was talking about when he said Jungkook is Jimin’s chef☺️.
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My take (or well ig dispute) on the Traveler is Jack's dad theory
Honestly, I've been having these thoughts on this theory ever since I saw the post, but now seems as good a time as ever to actually talk about it. *Slowly looks behind me while the Night Swan event is looming behind my back*
Disclaimer: for this post I am completely putting aside my theories on who Jack's dad could be, and the fact I am a WanderRose shipper. These factors so not exist to me right now.
This has become an essay so I'm going to create a little cut off to save your feed lol. Please do read it though if you have the time.
The clones/reflections
Starting out I would like to talk about the clones that appear in Treasure and Rock Your Body that seemed to be the root of this theory. They also mentioned Locked out of Heaven, but those are reflections in a mirror and not clones.
I don't think Jack has the ability to create clones. Period, done that's it. I know that in Treasure we see clones of Night Jack dance alongside him, but I don't think these come from Jack's magic (or lack thereof) at all. As Treasure is a map where Night Swan shows Jack what he could have been, what he could be if he just joins her side again. So I think that just like everything else in Treasure, the clones were created with Night Swans magic and have nothing to do with Jack's abilities. I think Night Swan can create clones of herself if she wanted to, but she doesn't because she has her minions to do the dirty work, so she utalizes this ability to give Jack an idea that if he joins her side that he too can shape people's mind in a way where they'll think just like him as if they were clones of him. Which would be another case of Night Swan thinking Jack wants something while he really doesn't.
Overall I do not think it would make sense for Jack to be able to create clones, since it would do absolutely nothing for the story. Plus if he does, why wouldn't they have used that by now? They could have utilized this in Majesty or something to show that he can, since they didn't hesitate with the portal thing Night Swan had going on. On the other hand I feel it would make more sense for Night Swan to be able to create clones as that puts her magic level around the same leven the Traveler has. Which makes her an even better antagonist in my opinion. Also they could actually do back story stuff with that but I'll get into that later.
The blatand cheating or at least very suspicious implications??
This one is just ovbious to me, like it doesn't matter if he was with Night Swan first or with Si'ha first in this case. Wanderlust and Jack are very much around the same age i think, presonally I believe Jack to be younger but that doesn't really matter right now. Either way, this means that the Traveler would have been with a woman, had a child and then up and left her to have a child with another. That's AITA redit story typa shit that I don't think Just Dance is going to pull. Let alone when those two women are the Queen and probably one of the most powerful sorceresses in the entire danceverses.
But let's disect it for a moment anyways.
Option 1: Wanderlust's older, Jack's younger right. This would mean that the 2020 story line happened as we know it right now. The Traveler searched across all of the danceverses for Si'ha Nova and eventually he found her. They fell inlove, they got married, they had Wanderlust. The most popular love story of the danceverses. And then the Traveler gets up like what a few months, a year, into his happy family and cheats on Si'ha Nova with Night Swan (who might not be evil by now, but still). Now you can argue that they got divorced and shit but that's highly unlikely in my opinion. Since a big part of the Traveler and Si'ha's characters is their love story. Plus even then there would have to have been some emotional cheating because you don't just fall in love with someone enough to have a child with them that fast. Yes, you could argue that Jack was a child created out of wedlock but that's really reaching at that point isn't it.
Option 2: Jack's older, Wanderlust's younger. This just means we can throw the entire backstory of the Traveler and Si'ha Nova out of the window. Why would you get with someone while actively searching for the so called love of your life? It just doesn't make sense to me. And you can't even argue that it wouldn't have happened because there is no way that Jack is that much older than Wanderlust.
Overall I think that the implicastions this brings is too much for Just Dance. I know that there's songs about being cheated on in the game, but why would they build up such a love story just to throw it out of the window?
Jack's design
This one is 100% from my side, but as someone who lives for character design I'm going to be real. If the Traveler was Jack's father we would have seen that in little hints in his design, even if Night Swan wanted to surpress that as much as possible for some reason. Ubisoft is one of the big game design companies and would know to incorperate at the very least a small little detail hinting towards it. Something like a little bit of blue or a triangle or something you know.
Plus this is something I'll always point out but: it would make even less sense for him to have bright red hair. I know that genetics probably work wildy different in the danceverses than here, but come on. I highly doubt that a character who's parents both have dark hair would have bright red hair without any good reason for it. You want your characters to at least resemble their parents. Why would they do that with Wanderlust and not with Jack? That doesn't make any sense.
Afterthought
Honestly, if they do end up adding it. It just feels like a weird afterthought they put in for people to stop shipping WanderRose. It's the only ship they seem to have beef with and I feel like they would be adding it just so they have a good reason to have beef with the ship. It genuinely doesn't feel like they properly planned for it or anything. Honestly, if you're going to be that petty about a ship you should really reflect as a company lol.
What could they do instead?
I do have an idea for that, because there was a lot of Night Swan and the Traveler teasing going on in the y2k season, and while I think one of the maps we're getting will be Sweet Dream there's still a second map. If they want to get into the backstory between Night Swan and the Traveler, I think that it would be really cool if they like studied flow under the same master or something and that's where a rivalry started. They could still do something with the two, but it wouldn't have to feel lazy and rushed just because they don't want a ship. But that's just my thoughts on that matter.
In conclusion
The Traveler...
And being honest? I don't think we're going to find out who Jack's father is. I think we might just be getting two solo maps of Night Swan. Or maybe even Sweet Dreams and Lose Yourself, proving that that's preETDV Jack.
But those are just theories, a game Just Dance theory. If you have anything you'd like to say or if you wanna duke it out with me about this. Feel free to. I like hearing other peoples opinions on things like this.
Okay really if you have made it this far. Thank you?? How did you get through all that bullshit jezus- I truly didn't intend for this post to become a sort of essay, but it appears it has. I hope everyhting made sense since I tend to explain shit in weird ways.
Anyways have this meme because I'm like super relevant and a totally normal person.
#I should start making essay youtube videos istg LOL#This theory has us all stressing lol#jack rose jd#jack rose#jack rose just dance#jd the traveler#the traveler#night swan jd#night swan just dance#just dance#just dance fandom#just dance 2024#just dance coach#jd#just dance theory
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Can you trust AI Answers about your health?
During the summer of 2020, when the entire world was focused on the pandemic, getting treatment for other health issues became a challenge.
I started experiencing a lot of back pain, but I shrugged it off as an injury and took Advil to cope.
A week later, I thought I had food poisoning.
I tried an at-home service where they pumped me full of IV fluids.
I went to urgent care. They sent me to get scans. I paid hundreds of dollars out of pocket to get them quickly.
The imaging place never sent the scans to the urgent care.
A day later, I had the worst chills. It was July, in Phoenix. Most likely 100 F. I went outside and was still freezing.
At that point, I was taken to the ER. I ended up in the ICU in one of those rooms they zipped up in plastic.
While most of the focus was on COVID, I had something else: a large kidney stone. The kind that doesn’t pass on its own.
I was in septic shock and acute renal failure according to discharge papers.
The hospital stay itself wasn’t too long, but the treatment with specialists took three months to complete.
Surgeries during COVID were extra special because if you tested positive, your surgery was delayed.
Two years later, in 2022, I ended up in the same hospital for the same reason.
And now, I’m a few days into aggressive antibiotic treatment for my kidneys, yet again. Wondering if I make it to the next followup or have to Lyft off to the ER.
So what does this have to do with Google AI Answers?
In 2020 and 2022, I spent a lot of time perusing Google Search results on kidney stones.
Now, I get AI Answers above at the top of SERPs (search engine results pages).
This wouldn’t be a bad thing if one could trust the AI to accurately summarize its sources.
That’s the big if.
In the first screenshot, you’ll find an AI Answer from Google Search results for the phrase how to pass kidney stone.
The first mistake involved an error with paraphrasing a source with legitimate information.
Because I can assure you after four years of seeing urology specialists, no one has ever suggested drinking two quarts or liters of urine.
The basil leaves suggestion, on the other hand, is suspect. I’ve never come across that as a suggestion. It would have stood out, because I have a lot of basil growing around the garden.
I don’t even remember that website from my previous Google searches. I had to check Wikipedia and other sources to find out what the company even was.
Much like the search quality raters and AI Answer checkers do...
In the second screenshot, Microsoft Bing with Copilot offered ads for supplements and advice from five sources, two of which are the MSN Health Hub.
The hub includes a section where you can Ask a health professional questions.
In the third screenshot, ChatGPT using GPT-4 with browsing offered a concise response based on its training data, but claimed not to have access to external sources.
In the fourth screenshot, Perplexity provided the best AI Answer with 19 sources I recognized from my previous research into this health issue.
Moral of the story:
You can’t trust generative AI with your money or your life issues.
But if you do, start with the right AI Answer engine. One that cites sources you trust and doesn’t suggest drinking your own pee.
Think of Perplexity as a better starting point for more in-depth research that you can discuss during your next doctor’s visit.
Not as a definitive answer.
Follow @kristileilani on X for more on AI news, trends, and tools.
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An analysis about why Bakudeku is one of the most inspirational relationships. (Manga spoilers)
First part : my thoughts
Tbh, I really have this impression the manga is coming to an end very soon, which breaks my heart because I don’t know what I’ll do without my daily leaks. However, I trust Horikoshi about the rest of the story and I do think he’ll make an open ending about which “ship” is canon, even if we all know that the biggest and most developed relationship in the manga is bkdk.
It would be interesting to see the “after” of this war, the hospital beds, the tears because they lost people, the relief because it’s over and the final conversation beg the ending. Knowing Horikoshi until now, never made things randomly because everyone is thinking in advance, including the conversation between Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo.
You can’t tell me the author of this manga who always did things with a smart brain will put aside such an important detail about the dynamic between his characters.
A part of me hopes we’ll have the bkdk talk at the hospital or somewhere else because there’s no way these two idiots keep living their lives as if nothing happened. I have high expectations due to the fanfics, but I’m pretty sure I’ll never be the same once the chapter with the bkdk talk comes.
Second part : the analysis feat manga panels
looking forward, it’s incredible how Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki’s relationship started in the worst way (I’m not including the childhood memories) and…Ended up being something like that.
I’m emotional when I think about everything they’ve been through, the many realizations about losing each other, the development of their relationship after an emotional scene such as Deku Vs Kacchan 2, the way they need to push each other’s up to be the best version of themselves in any situation.
It’s not a surprise if these two are mean to be canon (in a platonic or romantic to way, depends about your opinion !) and each little moment highlights this statement.
Think about it : they all learned one of few important things with the other’s presence by their side, on purpose or not. Their dynamic is something unique you can’t find in others shonen or mangas, because they have this specific bond, the one getting stronger though the years because their mistakes became a reason to improve and be a better person for this childhood friend they knew since the early days.
Izuku Midoriya needs Katsuki Bakugo like Katsuki Bakugo needs Izuku Midoriya.
You can’t take away this part of their soul, and even when people like AFO tried, they ended up paying the price by revealing how much they care about each other.
Don’t startd with the Heroees rising thing because I can write an entire novel about them, but this is another proof of how they’re made for each other. Their relationship improve though the years and it’s only the beginning, I can’t help but imagine how future bkdk will have an amazing relationship once they figured out everything and untold truths.
They’re each other’s pillars, holding the other up to do the best and watch from afar their other’s improvement.
That’s why the hospital conversation might be the peak of their relationship: the moment when they’ll both break their shield, welcoming the tears and listening how life is a fragile line on a thread.
None of them refuse to break this meaningful thread, because this is something they’ve built for years, and it’s their biggest strength (and biggest weakness like Shigaraki pulled out)
In conclusion: they’re driving me crazy and I have no regrets following their journey because it’s probably one of the best relationships I’ve seen (and I watched a lot of anime/manga, read a lot of books and they’re still superior !)
Thanks for reading my analysis because it’s one of my guilty pleasures when I’m passionate about something, especially my comfort ship ! Take care of yourself <3
#mha#bakudeku#bakugo katsuki#bkdk#izuku midoriya#mha analysis#ship analysis#manga analysis#at the end bkdk always win#mha bkdk#dkbk#katsudeku#dekubaku#manga spoilers#boku no hero academia#i love these dorks#anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk#comfort ship#they’re gay your honor#my hero academia
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𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐞
Law ends up falling asleep in his office, but is quickly waken up as he starts having a wet dream about you. Needing to get off, Law discovers you’ve left a pair of panties on his desk; the perfect thing to help aid him.
originally posted on August 18, 2023
Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!
While it wasn’t strange for Law to be up late, it certainly was odd for him to fall asleep at his desk. He’d almost always avoid it, saying things about how it’s bad for his back.
Which is why you found it quite odd that he hadn’t come back to your room yet. You’d woken up for some water, only to find the other half of your bed cold and empty.
Sighing, you stretched and drank some of the water on your nightstand, before deciding to go drag your boyfriend back to bed.
—
It’d only been about fifteen minutes.
The day was long and tiring, especially with the crew having routine medical exams all day. Law was exhausted, to say the least. He’d been reviewing papers at his desk when he felt his eyes become heavy. The last thing he’d managed to see before passing out was the clock, which read 12:16 am.
At 12:31, Law woke up. He found it odd he’d only slept for such a short amount of time. Normally he’d be passed out for a good hour before either he woke up and went to bed, or before you’d come and bring him back.
His body was heavy and tense. He felt hot and disheveled, despite only being asleep for not even half an hour. Yawning, Law realized there was a certain tightness constricting his body that could only mean one thing.
Glancing downward with a tired gaze, Law groaned and promptly rolled his gray eyes at the sight. He was hard. Extremely hard, enough that it was nearly painful as his length strained against his jeans. That’s when Law remembered…
He’d dreamt about you in those fifteen minutes that he’d fallen asleep.
In the dream, Law entered his office, feeling upset over various things, just generally feeling annoyed and irritable. But of course, you could always make him feel better.
You were sitting on his desk, bare body just barely illuminated underneath the dim candle lighting of the room. Your legs hung off the front of the desk, arms behind you as they held your body up. Your breasts seemed so round and full underneath the lighting, drawing Law’s attention to them before anything else. He licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to suck on them, feed off of you.
But then your face stole the attention away. Your cheeks were flushed red, mouth hung open with drool spilling past your wet lips. Your eyes were halfway closed, lazily. There was a look on your face that seemed somewhere between desperate and fucked-out.
You looked something straight out of one of those magazines with prostitute pirates in them. Something Law always turned his nose up to, having less than zero interest in. But now, he can’t help but think how good you’d look on one, displayed so prettily for everybody to see.
He approached you, placing a hand on your right thigh, squeezing the soft skin. “Need some help, y/n?”
“Please Law,” you begged, biting down on your lips. “It hurts so bad, need you in me now.”
He kissed you before looking over your body from a front angle now, his eyes landing on your swollen pussy. Your body would tense every other moment, your cunt slightly contracting as you squeezed the muscles in it, clenching on nothing.
Law moved to kneel, burying his face into your sopping cunt after he took in a deep breath, inhaling your sweet lewd scent.
But just as his tongue could squirm inside you with a loud, melodic moan leaving you, it was all over.
Law panted, realizing he had to do something about the monstrosity in his pants right away. There was no way he could walk back to his room like this, and in his state of being blinded with lust, he entirely forgot to think of using his powers to teleport you into the office.
Law quickly tossed his shirt off, unzipping his jeans before throwing them open and freeing his aching cock. Wrapping one hand around the shaft, he let out a hiss from the contact. Shit, he was already feeling as though he could cum at any moment.
Then, in the back of his mind, Law recalled you coming in here last night and riding him while he sat at the desk. And how you’d left your panties in the corner of his desk.
Gray eyes searched his desk, finding the pair of black lace panties sitting just where you’d left them. Law, unable to control himself from the horniness, snatched the pair with his right hand, using his left to squeeze his length. It was so dirty, but Law didn’t quite care right now. He was so turned on by the idea that he didn’t even question doing it; Law brought the black panties up to his face, breathing in the sweet scent of your cunt lingering on them.
As the smell hit his nose, Law’s hips bucked upward, and suddenly he was stroking his cock with fever, needing to cum as soon as possible. Taking in one last breath of your intoxicating scent, Law reluctantly let go of his cock, fisting the panties into his left hand as he wrapped them around his engorged, needy cock, now using them to jerk himself off.
A moan escaped him, head falling forward as he rutted up into his hand, feeling the lace of your panties pleasantly rubbing against his reddened, swollen tip.
“Fuck, y/n…” he breathed out, biting his lip and clenching his right hand as he kept rubbing his length.
—
You’d expected Law to be completely passed out when you found him. However, what you ended up discovering was the last thing you expected from somebody like him.
With a careful hand, you quietly opened the metal door so as to not wake up your lover. But as soon as your head poked into the room, taking one step in, you could hear it.
Law’s voice sounded broken and weak, as he moaned and whimpered your name. You scanned the room before your eyes landed on where he sat, jeans around his ankles as he had a hand wrapped around his cock, some sort of fabric in the hand which held his member… but, were those-
Your panties?
Law was using your panties to get off.
Gasping, you quickly shut the door behind you before somebody walked by and walked into the scene, much like you had. Only, this is something that only you’d like to witness.
Law seemed scared by the sudden noise, his entire body jumping as he turned his head to look at you. But, his hand never stopped moving. His mouth hung open, pathetic whines leaving his lips as he looked at you, pitifully.
“Y/n,” he whined, dragging out the end of your name. “Baby, h-help.”
You approached Law, getting a better look at the sight before you.
“This is what you’re doing? Instead of coming back to bed?”
“I fell asleep, a-nd… when I woke up, I was so hard,” he mumbled, a few gasps escaping him as his hips jerked and rutted upward.
“What do you want me to do?” You asked, pulling his hat off of his head to reveal messy, sweaty locks of black hair.
“J-just… undress, or something, I dunno…”
“Okay,” you smiled, placing a kiss onto Law’s forehead, before pulling your tank top over your shoulders, revealing your breasts to Law. As the shirt got pulled away, they bounced as they released from their hold. The sight caused Law to let out a loud, desperate moan.
Next was your pajama shorts, quickly followed by your panties. You figured Law needed more of a show to get off, so you hopped up onto his desk, spreading your legs for him to see your glistening cunt.
You could feel yourself throbbing, knowing Law masturbating to you was turning you on way more than it should’ve. So as to not waste time, you licked two fingers, bringing your hand down to begin playing with your puffy pussy lips.
Using the two fingers to spread your lips, Law got a good look at your hole, a groan leaving him as you clenched around nothing, much like you had in his dream.
Once you deemed yourself wet enough, you dove in, inserting one finger into your cunt. You whined, using your free hand to grope your breast, kneading at the plushy skin while pinching and pulling your nipple in between.
Quickly, the room became filled with the lewdest noises you’d ever heard. Law’s desperate whimpers, the squelching of your wet pussy as you fingered yourself, combined with your’s and Law’s mixed moans, both of you coming undone at the sight of each other.
With you now aiding him, Law was able to finish. But, the urge to finish in you took his body over, as he tossed the panties away, grabbed your hips with one hand and used the other to pull your hand out of your cunt, before shoving his aching cock into your wet hole.
As soon as his length was buried in you, Law’s hot sticky cum spilled inside you, whimpers and cries escaping his mouth as he gripped your hips so harshly you knew there’d be marks later.
Feeling the seed filling you up, you began cumming too, body shaking as your hips jerked up to meet Law’s thrusts, pretty moans leaving your lips.
You both eventually calmed down, you collapsing backwards to lay flat on the desk, while Law fell forward to lay on top of you, his cock still deep inside you.
“F-fuck,” he cursed, burying his face into your neck.
You let out a light-hearted chuckle, beginning to run your fingers through his hair. “Should’ve just told me you needed help, baby,” you whispered, feeling Law’s exhausted body tremble against you. “Though, I did enjoy the show.”
“Y-you’re not mad I used your panties?” He asked, voice weak.
“Of course not,” you smiled, a cute giggle leaving you.
“Th-that’s… good to know.”
#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar law x reader smut#trafalgar law x y/n#trafalgar law x you#trafalgar law x fem reader#law x reader#law x you#law x y/n#law x reader smut#law x afab reader#trafalgar d water law x you#trafalgar d water law x reader#trafalgar d water law x y/n
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MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER TWELVE
THIEF OF THREE DESTINIES
⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader
series masterlist
Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.
Words count: ~13k
⊲ previous
[July 1, 2020; 02:17am; hunters' hq]
[02:01] You: Megumi's back, he's fine
Delivered.
Unread.
[02:11] You: u ok?
Delivered.
Unread.
Gojo wasn't answering your calls either. You were drowning in an abyss of intrusive thoughts, each one worse than the last. Was he okay? If he was all right, why was he silent? Such silence was like the silence of a dead man - just as endlessly cold.
You stirred, pushing the images away from you and setting the phone aside. Maybe that was your lesson to learn. Wasn't that what he meant by loneliness?
There was nothing left of Kyle, not even his cold corpse was honored to rest deep underground. His image along with the vague tracings of his voice seemed to beg you not to forget him, but you knew that every image and every melancholy has a year later. Eventually, a wave of new memories would erase his still-green eyes.
The moral compass had been broken, trampled, torn to pieces. In which direction should the lost traveler go now? This entire time traveler had been walking along the dark side of the moon towards the calling sun - towards something bright and warm. Where would the road lead if the sun was stolen?
"Meg," you called out detachedly. "Asleep?"
"No," replied the mechanical voice.
"I have a riddle."
"I'm listening."
"There are two hunters," you began, staring blankly at the black monitor screen. "One is experienced, the other is a newbie. They were surrounded by demons, the experienced one was killed, and the newbie survived. What kinda a case is this?"
"The newbie was with the demons," Meg replied without hesitation or questioning intonation.
"Think again," you said, admonishing more yourself than the artificial intelligence.
Meg was silent, but it was as if you could hear her digging through the informational bowels of universal human knowledge, and she was doing it so fast that it would take you a lifetime to absorb that much information. "Hmm...," Meg drawled. "The messengers don't get killed?"
"The messengers don't get killed," you confirmed in a whisper, watching in the extinguished monitor as your eyes went black.
You didn't even notice that you had chewed your own thumb to a bloody pulp. Those devils knew everything. From start to finish. They knew you'd broken into a settlement, knew which one, knew that Kyle would be going instead of you that day. So where was the rat lurking? Was it one of the people in the void? Or was it one of the people who lived in the house?
Knock-knock.
Your only task was to keep your head down. You knew exactly what they were after, and they seemed to be getting close. Every day it became harder for you to control the turns of the invisible blades embedded in your body. You wiped the moisture from your dark eyes with a sharp movement, and making sure you looked like anyone else, you walked to the door.
A pair of sad, frightened child's eyes greeted you. "Why ya still awake?" you asked Yuuji tiredly, trying to maintain a neutral, if not positive, attitude. The boy looked down at first, before peeking over your shoulder. "Okay, come in," you surrendered, throwing up your hands.
He walked hesitantly over to your bed and sat down on the very edge. It looked like he was about to fall to the floor. "I... I brought something," Itadori began in a shaky voice and reached into his pocket with the same hands. "I think...," he stammered, and you could see him literally chewing the inside of his cheeks. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you should have thrown it away," he stated in an already firm voice, looking you dead in the eye. In his outstretched hand lay a silver bracelet, mockingly sparkling. "Especially in the trash can," boy added more quietly, trying to hide from you again. "It's a memory."
"I've never complained about my memory," you said, shrugging.
"That's not the point!" he protested, and the bracelet almost fell out of his hand. Itadori immediately pressed it to his chest. "Don't you wanna have a piece of him always near you? It's very precious," he whispered, pressing the jewelry harder against his chest.
"This thing's worth 20 bucks."
"Don't you dare say that," Itadori hissed. His fear faded away, making way for anger at the words you had said. "Take it!" he ordered, holding out the jewelry to you again. "Take it, now!"
It was the one shining thing that didn't make you want to take it or steal it. You walked over to the bed and sat down next to the boy, and you had no time for inner cries and agonizing - you couldn't show weakness in front of anyone. As soon as you took the bracelet in your hands, you felt like the ultimate fool. Why did you throw it away in the first place? It had never been a soulless piece of metal, at least not since you'd put it on your brother's arm.
You glanced around the workroom. Kyle wasn't here anymore, and he never would be. Maybe you'd never see him again, or maybe he'd see you in hell.
Along with everyone else.
"Thank ya," you smiled weakly but sincerely at Itadori. Maybe he sensed it, maybe he heard it in your voice, but he fidgeted restlessly, dropping his gaze to the floor again.
"What are you thanking me for...? I yelled at you. I'm sorry," he mumbled, and the swollen red face was drawn again with sorrow. Where is the artist who painted such things on children's faces? Maybe if you ripped their heart out, you'd feel a little better.
You wrapped your fingers around Yuji's chin, making him look up at you. "For being more mature than me today," you tried to wipe away the tears that had started streaming down his cheeks before you'd even finished speaking. He snuggled into your shoulder, muffling the tearing sobs. You didn't pay attention to how wet your sweatshirt was from his tears and snot, only gently stroking his back. "It's gonna be okay," you repeated the words like a mantra straight into the pink top of his head.
His body was clearly exhausted, and he collapsed in your arms. Yuji seemed to have cried for so long that all the water had gone out of his organism. "Try to get some sleep, 'kay?" you said, adjusting the pillow on the bed with your hand. At his exhausted questioning look, you shrugged. "Ya can go to your room if ya want. It's just that I remember ya saying it's quieter at my place."
You patted him on the top of his head and got up from the bed, heading back to the computer chair. A murmur behind you made you chuckle quietly - apparently Itadori had made his choice. "Y/N?" he addressed you quietly, covering himself with a blanket. You hummed questioningly. "You didn't call sensei?"
You didn't want to disturb an already wounded young heart. "He's busy right now, so I didn't bother him with the news," you said evasively. "Just texted him to say that Megumi is fine. Now go back to sleep."
A fresh morning breeze wandered through the room, taking all the memories with it as it made its way back through the window into the freedom of the bay. There really wasn't much stuff - you only needed three boxes to pack all of Kyle's clothes. Was it always this black and gray, or had you stopped perceiving colors?
You folded another T-shirt carefully, deliberately slow. After all, this was the last day you'd ever been this close to him. As you put the folded T-shirt in the box, you glanced at the unopened men's perfume on the bedside table. Would anyone need it now?
When you picked up the black sweatshirt, the door clicked open. The fresh air in the room was instantly freezing, chilling to the bone. Rachel was like the walking dead, even the large eyes on her gaunt face showed no signs of life. She stood on the other side of the bed, across from you, staring blankly at the sweatshirt you were holding.
You tentatively held it out to Rachel, and she took the sweatshirt in her hands after a few more seconds of staring blankly at the space. "Um...," you began quietly, watching her go through the clothes in her hands. "I packed everything here, so... When ya go to Hopetown, bring it with ya, 'kay?"
Rachel covered her eyes for a moment, her nose buried in the sweater as if she hadn't heard you at all. You looked away awkwardly and headed for the exit. "Ya're going too," she demanded in a strangled voice.
You sighed convulsively and turned around - Rachel was still standing with her back to you. "Rach, I don't have time to stand by a tombstone that doesn't even have a body underneath it."
Everything froze. Your ears heard nothing, your eyes saw nothing. Your skin felt neither wind nor touch. Even your memory stopped - all the images melted away, spreading out into the obscurity.
You came to your senses from the impact of your head hitting the floor. Rachel was on top of you, clutching your throat with both hands - she must have been doing it for a long time because your chest was already cramping helplessly. Certain places on your body were aching desperately, especially your ribs and cheekbones. "Rach," you wheezed, grasping weakly at her wrists.
She held it all in not making a sound, and you could have sworn you could see the muscles in her face tense behind the shroud of rage. You tried to reach out to her again, but another pathetic croak escaped your lips, and Rachel let go of your neck, whimpering suppressedly. "Ya're going," she hissed, getting up from the floor.
You pulled yourself up, coughing and rubbing your neck. "Rachel," your voice became an order of magnitude rougher as if your sister's hands were still clutching your throat. "I understand ya feel bad," you watched as she walked back to the bed, looking down at the same sweatshirt and wiping silent tears from her face. "But why ya so angry with me?"
She turned around sharply, meeting your uncomprehending gaze. "Because it's ya who should bear that burden, not me!" she shouted out desperately. "It's-," her own sobbing interrupted her, and she tried to push it away, hiding her face in hands. "It's all your fault, so why am I theone in tears right now?"
"I didn't ask anyone to follow me-"
"Shut your fucking mouth!" the perfume flew just an inch from your face. When it hit the wall, it left nothing behind but shards that crumbled to the floor. "Shut up!" Rachel gasped and agonized with her own emotions. Despite the fact that she let them out, it didn't get any easier in the slightest. "Ya just an ungrateful bitch," she hissed weakly. "Ya'll go to the funeral. Otherwise your white-haired weirdo will find out-"
"He knows," you cut it off.
"That's how it is," Rachel said, naively slamming her eyes shut. "Then it's strange that he's still with ya. I can barely stand ya, even though I've been around since I was a kid."
"Rachel," you sighed tiredly. "Let's just not fight, 'kay? This isn't really a good time for that."
Wiping the nearly dried paths of tears from her face, your sister straightened to her full height and headed for the exit. "Ya're going or ya don't have a sister anymore either," she mumbled absently, shoving you with her shoulder.
It was definitely her favorite.
"We are gathered here today to honor the memory of our beloved son, brother, friend..."
The weather was clearly mocking. The midday sun brightly illuminated the growing greenery, the black-clad people, and the names on the tombstones. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, just a vast blue. Nature didn't seem to want to grieve with the people. She didn't care about all of you.
You stood away from everyone else, leaning against a tree. There was no place to hide in this cemetery field, and the tree seemed to be your only refuge. You pressed your shoulder against it as hard as you could, smoking your third cigarette.
"Words cannot express the full horror of this tragedy that has touched us all..."
Tragedy.
Megumi and Danielle stood in the front rows, huddled together as if trying to become one. Both were pale and lifeless, but Dany still had the strength to cry. She stood with her face buried in his neck, unable to look at the closed coffin, and the boy stroked her head inconsolably, unable to take his eyes off of it. It was unclear which of them had it worse, but they decided to deal with it together.
It brought some people together.
Rachel stood beside them, holding Mike in her arms. She kept her hand on the redhead's head, pulling her son closer to her chest as if ordering him not to look. You could see his little body flinch and twitch. Rachel never spoke to you after that fight. She didn't even look in your direction.
Someone was distanced by it.
Frank's skin was the color of his hair and beard, but he struggled to keep that same good-natured expression, though it was completely drenched in sadness. He stared blankly at the empty coffin. How could you look him in the eye now that you couldn't even bring the body?
The people from the void who had come to the funeral were frightened. This man had saved them, fought for them, but if he was suddenly mortal, didn't that mean the rest of you were too?
Tragedy inevitably befalls everyone. For some it prepares them, for others it comes completely unexpectedly. It leaves behind either a hardened spirit or a broken heart - a person must choose for themselves.
"Wherever he goes, I believe he will end up in the arms of God..."
If God didn't have time to keep track of everything going on here, who's to say he had time to keep track of the other side? Did it even exist? You looked around the cemetery helplessly. There was a whole universe under each tombstone, but what would be under your brother's one?
"Y/N," greeted the woman who came up behind you.
"Camila," you said, taking another drag on your cigarette. The woman leveled herself at you and stared through her dark glasses at the spectacle in front of you. "I didn't think anyone from the old generation would come here."
"Can we be judged for that?" asked Camila plaintively. "Kyle's death hardly our business."
"He's Frank's son," you reminded her. "To Frank ya owe a lot."
"I didn't come here to bicker," the woman said sternly, nervously smoothing her already perfectly bunched hair. "I want you to give me my sons back."
"Did that one death scare ya like that?" you raised your eyebrows in surprise.
"One?" barked Camila, but immediately lowered her voice so as not to draw attention to herself. "Whatever. Anyway, I'm expecting Axel and Ryan home tomorrow. If not, we'll come pick them up ourselves," she gave you a meaningful look as if she wanted you to feel like you were nothing.
"Will mom's skirt save them in battle, too?"
There was a resounding smack. You bit your lip and put a hand to your aching cheek.
"It's called concern," she hissed, leaning over you. "You don't know of such a thing, do you? You don't care who you let go to waste."
"Concern?" you chuckled. "It didn't keep your hubby safe," when she tried to hit you again, you intercepted her arm, digging your nails into her skinny wrist. The hiss of bubbling blood eclipsed all sound, so you didn't immediately notice that there was no noise at all. No voices, no stomping. "Hit me again and I'll rip your heart out. Just like everyone else who will come to our house," you had barely finished grinning when a ringing silence that you hadn't sensed earlier hit your ears. Stunned by this, you turned towards the people gathered here to pay their honor. All of them were looking at you.
Shoving the frightened Camila's hand away from you, you strode away from the cemetery to the taunts of the midday sun.
Gojo thought he was doing the right thing. At least for the first couple days. Wasn't it fair to feed you the same pill you kept giving him? If you didn't give it a taste, how else would you know how bitter it was? That's how he reassured himself when he saw another missed call. If on the first day it made him smile stupidly, after a while he grew more and more anxious - maybe you've forgotten him already? He had to hand it to you - in all this time you called only four times, the last call was dated last night. It wasn't enough for him. He didn't want you to miss him only at night, he wanted to be in your thoughts every morning and evening, whether you were eating or fighting.
Gojo didn't miss your messages either. Megumi did well, how could he not? It couldn't have happened to any of his students otherwise.
He muffled the panic rising in his chest by poking curse's eye out with his heel. The eye burst with a squelching sound. He couldn't count how many times it had been these days because he had personally volunteered for mission after mission. "God, that's a lot of yelling," he muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets and pressing down on the ugly head even harder. Whether there was a brain inside the curse head or something else, Gojo's shoes were immediately stained with purple goo.
Gojo didn't hear the phone ring because of the ultrasound, but he pulled it out when he felt it vibrate in his pocket. Biting his lip in frustration, he stared at the caller's name for a while longer before answering. "Hey," Gojo chirped.
"Jesus, what's that sound in the background?" hissed Megumi. The boy was heard to pull away from the phone.
"Oh, wait a second," Gojo rambled apologetically. He squatted down, and leaning over the curse, grabbed it by something that resembled a throat. When the covers crunched, when the curse froze, opening its mouth in an already silent scream, a mad chuckle escaped Gojo's lips. Clenching his hand even tighter, he ripped the creature's head off with a single tug. Tossing it away from him, Gojo leaned the phone to his ear again. "Better?" he asked carelessly.
A long sigh sounded from the other side. "Are you really that busy or are you really just an unscrupulous asshole?"
"Hey!" he resented. "It's been so long since we've seen each other, and you don't have a warm word to say?"
"You should come. Anyway, the ceremony's already over, but I think it would be respectful to at least show up here," Megumi muttered moodily, and what was even more surprising to Gojo was the weakness hiding behind the usual scowl.
"Ceremony?" wondered Gojo, feeling his palms begin to sweat. "What did you guys do in there without me?" he asked, trying to suppress a nervous grin.
"Uh," Megumi began uncertainly. "Didn't Y/N tell you?"
"Told me about what?" he inquired, smiling forcefully. There was silence on the other end, and the longer it lasted, the harder his heart began to pound. It pounded loudly and painfully, breaking all his arrogance and confidence in his own actions. "Megumi, told me about what?"
Before his heart could stop, there was a rustling sound as if Megumi had pulled the phone as close to him as possible. "Kyle's dead."
They'd never been close. A few insults and promises to kick each other's asses were all they had in common. However, Gojo wasn't hurting for himself right now.
That's why you called him last night. You had called him twice in a row, and while Gojo had hesitated to answer the first call, the second one had made him throw the phone away. He'd been told that many times, directly or veiledly, jokingly or seriously, but as soon as he waved his hand, the words evaporated before they reached his soul. He couldn't even look up now, though. For the first time he felt like nothing.
Sitting at the empty dining room table, Rachel stared out the window as if there were something more mesmerizing than the everyday sunset. Whether she prayed, pleaded, or argued, the inhabitants of heaven were adamant or deaf. The angels and their arrows did not care about human suffering.
Gojo was sure she heard the front door slam, so why didn't she turn around? The only thing that moved was her fingers, which scrabbled against the tabletop, occasionally touching the crystal ashtray that held at least twenty or so cigarette butts. The ashes smeared awkwardly against the table were like feelings - neither reversed nor returned, only wiped away with a damp cloth. "Hey," Gojo sounded muffled in spite of his ringing voice. "Sorry for your loss," Rachel never turned around. No nod of her head, no greeting. "Um... You know where Y/N is? Is she still in town?"
"Why would I know where your monster is," she mumbled. Despite her slurred words, there was no bottle or glass on the table in front of her. Apparently, her father's influence was taking its toll.
"Uh? You're her sister," he said with a perplexed shrug.
Rachel clicked her tongue lazily, not taking her eyes off the window. "I wish I wasn't."
"Oh, I see," he drawled, an arrogant smirk in his voice. "So you're the poor unfortunate girl. The only one who lost someone, huh?" he tilted his head sideways, looking at your sister. There was no child sitting in front of him, so where did such childish behavior come from? "Grow up already."
Rachel sat still for a few seconds, then slowly turned her body and stared at Gojo with empty eyes. He'd come to her house, to her family, hung around her sister, failed to show up at her brother's funeral, and dared to mock her.
"Tranquillity."
Gojo remained standing as he was. He realized that something had happened; even though he wasn't shackled, he felt strange as if the chain did exist and it was beginning to be slowly pulled around his neck. "Is that all you got?" he asked excitedly. There was only one desire burning in him now - to test the limits of his own abilities.
If she'd had the strength to smile, her face would have contorted into a mad grimace, but right now Rachel just kept watching him. Nothing reflected in her glassy eyes. No surprise, no satisfaction. "What were ya saying about your infinity?" she asked blankly, not expecting an answer. It was not enough for her. If he couldn't feel the mental pain, let him feel the physical.
"Tranquillity."
She was ready to tear him and his equanimity. Thin black strips crawled along her fingers, wrapping around every inch of tanned skin.
It was hard for him to breathe, but the reverse technique was doing its job - it broke the chains time after time, but they were put back on, each one thicker than the last. His hand flew involuntarily to his throat.
"Rachel, that's enough!" shouted Frank, rushing down from the second floor. He hadn't even had time to change - he was still wearing his black suit. "I said STOP!" he howled, and Rachel's head popped up. When the chains of dark energy stopped restraining Gojo, he began gasping for air.
Frank walked over to him, and taking him by the shoulder, looked him over anxiously. "Son, ya okay?" Gojo nodded, rubbing his throat. "And ya," he turned angrily to his daughter. "What the hell ya doing?"
Rachel showed an emotion other than total absence for the first time in a day. She laughed bitterly. "I'm just wondering why everyone is defending her."
"I don't know who exactly ya talking about," the man hissed. "But we have a duty to protect her because she's our family."
Rachel laughed even harder, and the louder her laugh was, the crazier it sounded. "Mom never carried her under her heart! She's here because you're a hearty idiot! You just felt sorry-"
"Shut your mouth!" snapped Frank sharply.
"I won't!" she yelled, jumping up from her chair. "None of this would have happened if it wasn't for her! I just want to come home and know that Kyle will meet me! Alive!" she gasped, muffling her own sobs. "And now he's gone. All because ya took pity on her once! You should have just left her to them," she whimpered weakly, her head collapsing onto her chest.
"You don't feel well. Go to your room," Frank ordered softly.
She glared sharply at him, for ire gave her strength. "Ya can't tell me what to do!"
"I am your father. Sure I can," he replied firmly, and though he kept his voice low, it sounded much louder than his daughter's screams.
"Obedience."
Rachel groaned painfully and tried to keep her legs in place, but they were trying to get off the floor against her will. "Fuck you," she spat out, and then she went up the stairs and disappeared to the second floor.
Gojo watched Frank anxiously. The man was breathing heavily, staring after his daughter and rubbing his chest as if his heart were painfully throbbing. His arm was covered in dark, wriggling stripes, and when Frank's legs started to wobble, Gojo picked him up immediately. "Hey, hey, oldman," he gibbered worriedly. "What's the matter?" he dragged Frank to the couch, and sitting him down, poured him some water.
"Thanks, son," the man took the glass with a shaky hand and took a couple sips. "Sorry for no warm welcome today. We're all on edge right now," setting the water aside, Frank pulled back the collar of his shirt. The dark lines wrapping around his collarbones almost reached his heart. "Shit...and here I thought I can live to fight another day," he grinned grimly.
Frank wasn't a fool. He may not have been the smartest man, but he had a lot of experience under his belt. He saw no anger or irritation on Gojo's face at what had happened, just the faded blue eyes. "Lost someone?" the man asked.
Gojo nodded briefly without looking up. "Yeah," he said quietly.
"She's in the church now," Frank prompted politely. "She went to give some things away, so... You'll find her there."
"Do you really think I'd leave an old man with a heart attack?" clinging to the remnants of his temper, Gojo glanced slyly at Frank.
He got a fatherly slap, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough to set him straight. "Go already," Frank growled, and Gojo didn't bother to argue or bicker with him. Rubbing his aching heart, Frank barely waited for the door to slam shut. "Ya left too soon, Kyle," he sobbed, digging his fingernails into the blackened skin. "They still need your care."
You dragged the boxes to the far corner hidden behind the columns and unlit by hundreds of candles. You did it as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the praying parishioners. On days like this, the church came alive. The hall filled with light from the fire was crowded with people, and those who did not have enough room in the pews reverently said their prayers on the floor, on their knees. Everyone was silent, all those present turned only to God. Paradoxically, it only took one dead person to do this. On other days, the place was not gloomy, but rather empty - all the voices of those who came here echoed off the walls.
You could barely lift the boxes as if each one weighed a ton. When you would sneak quietly into a corner with a box, your forearms would ache terribly and you would want to drop everything or carry it back home. Were clothes always this heavy? Or was it the weight of parting?
When you reached the last box, you took your time putting it down. You held it tightly to you as if you were hugging it, and sat down on the floor next to the rest of the things. Watching the people in the gap between the columns, you wondered - perhaps you should have done the same. No one had ever explained what silent prayers could do. It was something intimate, something that remained only between man and the creature from above.
Man is all-powerful. Man is fragile. A person can move mountains or they can break their heel jumping off the bench. Person loves and hates, misses and has fun, makes mistakes and feats, but they forget that all this exists only because of them. Without them there would be neither conquered mountains, nor love nor hate.
And then the man dies.
"Y/N," a soft voice addressed you. "Don't sit on the cold floor. You'll catch a cold," you looked up and saw the Holy Father holding out his hand to you.
Setting the box aside with the rest of Kyle's belongings, you took his palm and stood up, shaking off your feet. "Kalev," you awkwardly tried to shove the boxes away so they wouldn't get in the way. "Um... Thank ya for performing the ceremony."
"What are you talking about?" wondered the Holy Father quietly. He was still dressed in his ceremonial robes, and unlike the others, it was completely white except for the wide collar - it was embroidered with silver threads. "Of course, I agreed to it. I don't care about the rumors. We're all human, and we deserve to go to the other world accompanied by a God."
"Yeah," you muttered, faltering and not looking up. "I guess ya're right."
"What's troubling you?" he asked worriedly, barely touching your hand. "We can always talk," seeing your gaze flicker around the church, he squeezed your palm harder, trying to reassure you.
You knew what awaited you behind those columns, away from the congregation. A small, cramped room that separated the speakers by a mesh partition. "There's no way I'm going to the confessional," you grinned nervously, feeling the back of your neck sweat.
"I didn't say anything about confession," the Holy Father smiled modestly. "I was talking about ordinary human interaction," the man spoke the most ordinary words, but the aura around him radiated a light-winged warmth as if he really was protected by a god. "I will always be happy to talk to you, Y/N," he continued to hold your hand in his, wrinkled and cognizant of the years that carried not only his joys and sorrows, but others' as well. "But it seems to me that someone else wants to talk to you now."
His kind gaze didn't change a bit as he looked over your shoulder. When he let go of your hand, he nodded softly, ordering you to go. As if it were a command from above, you turned around.
You couldn't see his face in the shadow of the columns, but you knew who it was. You walked past Gojo and sat down on the step without even looking at him. Since it was the will of the shadows, let the expression on his face remain a mystery to you forever. "I'm sorry," came the husky voice that had always been ringing and cheerful.
"Me too," you replied detachedly, watching the deserted town.
He carefully sat down beside you, keeping his distance. "Why didn't you tell me what happened?"
"So ya didn't see the calls and texts after all."
"I saw, but...," the heated tiles beneath his feet began to crumble. Gojo had heard once of that feeling of the ground leaving beneath one's feet, but no one had warned him that it would do so slowly. "If you only texted me about what happened, I would be here right away."
"Why," you couldn't even catch the sarcasm in the impersonality of your voice. "Did something like this really have to happen for ya to finally pick up the phone and say ya 'kay?"
So that was it. You didn't ask for help or pity. You just wanted to be reassured that he was okay. "I really am an asshole," there was none of his usual sass in his voice. Just the realization crashing down on him like a slab of granite, crushing all arrogance and carelessness. "I'm sorry. I'm not- I'm just- God," he buried his face in his palms. "I can't even find the right words."
"Whatever," you said, and your alienation did not catch his despair. "I still have more to think about besides another person being disappointed in me."
"No, no, no. It's not like that at all," he mumbled in a weak voice. He cupped your face. To his surprise, you gave in effortlessly as if you were a rag doll. "Only a brainless idiot would be disappointed in you," he leaned his forehead against yours. "And I'm an idiot, but I have brains. Right?" he asked you, and noticing the faintly familiar wrinkles in the corners of your eyes, he smiled, even though his eyes were glistening treacherously.
"If you had brains, you'd run away," you didn't realize that both his mind and his heart had been screaming to the contrary for a long time. That's why he was here now, in front of you and with you, all broken with naked soul.
Gojo pressed you tighter against him and even pushed you back a little, so as not to disturb the exiting parishioners, but you didn't notice anything. On the other hand, he noticed everything, right down to the way you burrowed harder into his neck when someone walked past you. "Mochi," he rubbed his nose softly against the top of your head. "Is anyone home?"
"No," you replied without raising your head. "All here in Hopetown."
Not to a grieving Rachel, not to a worried Frank, not to a maelstrom of hissing hunters - he didn't want to give you to anyone. Gojo hoped you would understand his selfish desire. "Let's go home then, 'kay?" he whispered and, stunned by the church bells and the beating of his own heart, he kissed you shyly on the temple - your very first kiss.
You washed away today - all the water running down the drain, taking the dust, sweat, anger, and pain with it. You tried not to disturb your mental equilibrium, and one way to maintain it was with a routine. After smearing moisturizers on your body and applying balm to your hair, you wrapped yourself in a robe and stood in front of the dresser with your clothes. Gojo wanted you to open up - it was time to start somewhere.
You had no idea what was waiting for you on the floor above. You'd agreed to just watch something, but Gojo was running around the kitchen trying to make a quick meal. He's already gotten it into his head that you're an omnivore. Maybe there were some exceptions like boiled carrots or something, but he didn't like those things too, which meant you'd find something to your liking from all the things he'd quickly cooked and panic-bought at an unknown store - in his state of chaos, Gojo didn't even realize where he'd teleported to. Garlic croutons, mozzarella cheese balls, baked shrimp in bacon, nachos with chili sauce, a few chocolate bars - cholesterol plaques. Everything just the way you liked it. "Well... Acceptable," he muttered, eyeing the edibles.
"What is it?" you asked, peering out from behind his forearm. Gojo didn't even jump - he was used to living in this house with the thought that you could be behind him at any moment. He was ready for anything. Or he thought so until he turned around.
You were wearing regular pajama pants. Avocado, kitten, funny writing, or solid colors - he'd seen them all. But instead of the usual closed shirt, you were wearing a top. A little stretched and faded, but it hid almost nothing. "Uh," you drawled uncertainly, noticing the lost expression on Gojo's face. "Is something wrong?" you took a step back.
Gojo had long suspected what was under your clothes, and his suspicions were confirmed. Scars of all kinds - sunken, bumpy, torn, and stretched - adorned your skin, layered on top of each other. The whitish-pink indentations on your wrists were like bracelets, and your throat was covered with many thin tightened cuts, like a dried bloody necklace.
That wasn't what Gojo was interested in. He knew that if he gave it a single thought, he would be consumed by rage, which was good only in battle and only if it was cold. However, in helpless rage one could only find the road to self-defeat. Anyway, a trigger clicked quietly in his head.
Kill them all.
"N-no, it's okay," Gojo mumbled, averting his eyes in embarrassment. Your naked arms, shoulders, collarbones, and neck - it made it seem as if you'd exposed more than just a part of your body. "Y-you just- uh," he panted quietly and tried to brush away the unruly white strands that tickled his burning face with his hands. "You took me by surprise," he mumbled awkwardly, raising his eyes to you again.
"Well, I just wish I could wear something like that sometimes too. At least in your workroom," you shrugged. "When I told ya ya could sleep over sometimes, I didn't think ya'd end up living there," you chuckled, not noticing how the man in front of you was being pulled further and further into the abyss by the shame.
"Sorry, I- Uh, I-I just...," Gojo kept stammering like a flustered teenager, and his hands couldn't find their place - he was trying to shove them into his pockets, then cross them over his chest, then fix his hair again. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think of that," he admitted timidly.
"Nothing, it's fine," you smiled, seeing his condition. "If it bothered me too much, I'd tell ya about it, so... Let's just take it all to the TV," you suggested, pointing to the food. Gojo nodded, and you walked over to the dining table. Seeing several bars of chocolate, you looked dumbfounded. "God," you whimpered. "Wait here. I forgot something."
You had no right to do that. He'd been through too much emotion that day, and this waiting during your sudden outburst only made him more anxious. He tried to rub his face with his hands to get the red paint off it or to cool it down a little, but it was in vain. Even his hands were burning.
Gojo was eager to get everything ready. He moved all the food to the coffee table, fluffed all the pillows on the couch, brought a couple of blankets, turned on the TV and searched for a movie, but nothing worked. He was still in a panic.
"Here," you drawled uncertainly, rising from the workroom and walking over to him, sitting on the couch and tapping his foot against the floor. "It's hardly tasty, so...," you bit your lip, holding out the chocolate bar to him. "Just a souvenir from the void," you chirped, flopping onto the couch and tucking your legs under you.
Gojo stared dumbly at the bar of chocolate in the weathered wrapper - it had been pink, but there was no lettering or logo. Did you think of him? Was there really room in your head for him in the midst of the cold and the demons, the half-dead people and the unknown? When you were all alone and didn't know how to get out? "I won't eat it, I guess," he said weakly, though he tried to smile slyly.
"Prissy," you snorted, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it at him. "Crank up TV."
You've seen several movies, but Gojo didn't understand any of them. The plot, the acting, the locations - he couldn't remember any of it, even though he was staring straight at the screen. Thoughts were rushing around in his head, and his side vision was emphasizing you. You were eating with an envious appetite on whatever he'd cooked or bought, which made him bury his face harder into the pillow he was cradling against his chest. Was it fair that you were so comfortable around him? Was he the only one in this room with a heart that was out of place?
"That's it," you sighed tiredly, stretching. "I'm full and I can't move," you said, throwing the pillow on the couch and flopping down on it, keeping your legs tucked in so you wouldn't disturb Gojo.
Okay, it may have been unfair, but it was rarely otherwise in this world. He made that decision on his own. If you were knocked out and made to run away by his attempts to get closer to you, he was willing to back off, but just one step back. No further. Everything was fine as long as you let him stay by your side in this room, on the same couch, eating mozzarella cheese balls he'd made.
"Hey," you poked your foot gently into his thigh. "You're falling asleep," you said, watching his eyelids slip shut. "At least lie down."
Gojo glanced sleepily at the door; he didn't want to go down to the workroom. He sighed tiredly and lay down behind you. In a strangely familiar habit, he put his arm around your waist - your back was pressed against his chest. "Mochi," Gojo whispered gently into your shoulder, realizing it was time for a risky endeavor. "Look, this might seem weird to you, but... Is it just me or are you and Rachel not getting along?"
He furrowed his brows at his own insolence, though he hadn't been bothered by those devils pulling his tongue before. You remained silent, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb, an action that made him relax a little. "We fight with her a lot," you finally uttered. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
"I just heard something I wasn't supposed to hear," he admitted honestly. "She said things like, uh... It's not like a common fight."
"She rarely watches her tongue," a shaky exhale escaped you, and Gojo, burrowing deeper into your neck, tried with all his might to show he was there for you. "Rachel, she's... She's not the bad person. It was just a bad day, that's all," he felt you squeeze his hand harder as if you were trying to hold him in place. "Besides... She has a right to be mad at me."
He squeezed your hand in response. "Why?"
"I killed her husband."
You sat in the huge wooden barn, surrounded by sleeping cattle. The thin hay stung your skin even through your clothes, but you didn't dare move; you sat obediently as you had been told. The strong wind made the barn door wobble as if it were about to swing open. Nothing could be heard outside, only the long whistle of the night air through the cracks.
You tried irritably to wipe the dried blood off your hands, your skin itching and aching in places as you tried so hard to get rid of the scarlet liquid. With the quiet sleepy snorting of the animals and the shoving of another straw away from you, you wondered angrily. What had gone wrong? Where had you miscalculated? And where the fuck did Frank go?
No matter how fast or slow the time dragged on, he was already late. Did he really think that if he told you to sit still and keep your nose clean, he could disappear as long as he wanted?
As irritation began to turn to frustration, the barn door swung open, banging loudly against the wall. "Shit," mumbled Frank to the howling wind that blew in. He examined the door, and making sure it was still on its hinges, closed it back with force.
You immediately jumped to your feet, approaching him. "Well? How bad is it?" you worried.
He put his arm around your shoulders, forcing you back into the haystack and sat down beside you. The stack immediately sagged, nearly flattening to the floor. "I'm not gonna lie. It's pretty bad," Frank admitted on an exhale.
"Hunters?"
"There's less than half of them left."
"And the people?" you asked hopefully.
"Everyone was slaughtered," Frank reported grimly, patting you comfortingly on the knee.
"Wonderful," you said desolately. "They were the first people we brought out of the void, and for what? So that a couple weeks later they could just be killed?"
"It's okay," the man put his arm around you, and noticing the deep cut on your eyebrow, touched it - dark lines immediately began to tighten it. "The important thing is that we're still alive."
"What... What's up with the plantation?" you asked through force, expecting the worst.
Your expectations were confirmed. "Burned down along with the village," Frank said threateningly quietly. "We don't have the black orchid anymore."
You jumped to your feet again, and even Frank's heavy hand couldn't hold you in place. You started pacing from side to side, wringing your hands nervously. "That's fucking bullshit," you bellowed. "Hunters have lived there for centuries, has anyone ever attacked?" at your rhetorical question Frank still shook his head. "Then what the hell? Did someone turn us in?"
"I have no clue," the man shook his head contritely. "We'll have to think about it on a fresh head. Right now it's better to rest."
Because of your worries and the excitement of the elements of nature, you did not hear someone knocking shyly on the barn door. The guest, not waiting to be answered, opened the door themselves.
You turned around, but Frank had already managed to step forward and covered you with his back. "Oh, Noah," he exhaled, and his body relaxed. "Thanks for bailing us out," Frank said, and he wasn't so hard at covering you anymore. Peeking out from behind his shoulder, you met the worried gaze of a man who was wrapping himself more tightly in a fur vest.
"It's nothing," Noah muttered, shivering from the cold. "But you can't stay here for long," he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Don't think I'm chasing you out of here. It's just that they... They might find out through me that you're here."
"Don't worry. We'll wait out the night and leave at dawn," the insider nodded uncertainly at Frank's assurance and took a step backward, slamming his back into the wall. The clattering pitchfork made him jump up and he stormed out of the barn. "I dunno where to go, though," he admitted aloud.
"Then you'll come to our house," you said in a voice that didn't tolerate bickering.
"I doubt the hunters would agree," grinned Frank sadly.
"Let them go to motels then. I don't care," you waved it off, settling back on the haystack. "We ain't done with that settlement yet anyway. Those people need a place to live, and without hunters, there'll be more room in the house."
"Still... The house isn't rubber, after all," the man frowned.
"We have to rebuild the village," you tried to cheer Frank up. "Somewhere on the edge of the Earth. And this time we'll have to think seriously about how to protect it."
***
Two months had passed since the bloody incident, and you were on tenterhooks again. It was comforting to know that you weren't the only one in that state. Kyle was sitting next to you on the couch in the hallway of the infirmary. He jumped up, walking to the closed door of the chamber, and then sat back down. Involuntarily watching his fidgeting, you began to get even more nervous. Doc had never taken so long to examine a patient before; had something terrible happened to Rachel?
Your brother wouldn't stop - he would pop his head up every now and then when there was a rustling and mumbling outside the door. "Ya're not helping. Sit down," you turned to him exhaustedly as he once again got up from the couch.
You shivered as the doc's replica rushed past you. The same white coat, the same hands that clutched the clipboard and pen, only the replica never had a face. A blank canvas with no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Doc was always good at optimization, but the implementation was sometimes horrifying.
You both rose from your seats as doc left the ward and closed the door behind him. Clutching the clipboard to his chest, he stared at you over his glasses. "Congratulations," he said glumly. "She's pregnant."
"What?" you both simultaneously blurted out, and were reflections of each other - both amazed, right down to your open mouths.
"I mean, it's...," began a panting Kyle. "That's great!"
"Go to her," Doc nodded, but as you took a step toward the room, he grabbed your arm. "Not you. In my office. Now," Doc hissed and immediately rushed off in the direction of his office. You and Kyle looked at each other dazedly, and after a little while, you headed after doc.
As you closed the office door, you saw doc fidgeting with his medical records, and when he found the right one, he began to flip through the pages. "Doc, what's the matter?" you worried, watching as he began to write something down. The pen was almost tearing the paper.
"Sit down," he called out without raising his eyes. You obediently took the chair and moving it closer to the desk, sat down. "I won't beat around the bush," he tossed the medical records aside and interlocking his fingers, stared at you again. "Rachel has uterine hypoplasia. Or rather, she had uterine hypoplasia."
"Uh," you began confusedly, digging around doc's desk with your eyes, not sure why. Maybe looking for answers. "Can we use human language?"
"Undeveloped uterus," doc chided. "Specifically in her case, no bigger than this thing here," he tossed a pencil eraser under your nose. "I examined her from top to bottom just a month and a half ago, everything was the same. And now she's pregnant," he said coldly.
"She never told me anything about her disease," you said wistfully, thoughtfully twirling a pencil eraser in your hands.
"She suspected her reproductive problems, but I never told her anything about her disease," doc explained glumly. "Rob wanted kids too much, and I wanted to find a solution to that problem before I told them everything," he grimaced as he watched you put the eraser back on the table. "But the problem seems to have been solved for me."
"Couldn't ya... Ya know, recover her or something?" you suggested weakly, crossing your arms.
"I can only replicate what is already available. Not create new things," doc shook his head, tapping his fingers restlessly on the table.
"So what ya getting at?" you asked, the corners of your lips involuntarily creeping upward, and there was no way you could stop that panicked nervous smile.
Was it because of this that a few months ago you all literally drowned in blood and lifeless bodies? Was the price of all this something ephemeral, something that had not yet come into this world? You didn't want to believe it, and you hoped that none of you would say it out loud.
Doc was of a different opinion. He was always satisfied only with truth and facts, and it didn't matter what they carried with them. "If you don't believe in God, I suggest you to start," he said, leaning back in his chair. "After all, if this isn't a miracle of God, I'll laugh in the face of anyone who says it's just a coincidence."
***
Rachel didn't have any of those weird wants - no cucumbers with chocolate, no honey and chips, no chalk - but her appetite was growing by the day. Because of her cravings, you could go to the store several times a day, only to have her tell you afterwards that she didn't want it anymore. Just like that, you were shoving now unwanted strawberries into the fridge. The container crumpled from the force you exerted, and the walls of it turned scarlet - unable to withstand such violence, the poor strawberry simply burst.
When you heard your sister's mumbling from the couch again, you spread your arms out to the sides with all your fingers together, closed your eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths to catch the slipping calm. You weren't supposed to be angry, Rachel was pregnant. This behavior was normal.
"What the hell ya doing there?" whined Rachel, peering out from behind the back of the couch. "The show's already starting."
"I'm coming," you muttered, slamming the refrigerator door shut. As soon as you sat down on the couch, she immediately laid her head on your lap, not caring at all about the way your legs were going to cramp up. Sighing, you started stroking her red curls, realizing where this was going. "Ya can't sleep on the couch forever. It's bad for your back."
"Back off," she snorted, fidgeting and tugging the blanket over her. "What can I do? Rob stinks."
"What's that he smells like?" you laughed softly.
"How should I know?" she whined for the umpteenth time this week. "He just stinks. I get nauseous around him all the time."
"Ya sure it's about the smell?" you asked casually, smirking eagerly, for which you received a hard slap on the thigh. "Ouch!" Rachel only frowned more at your exclamation and squirmed harder into a ball, not taking her eyes off the TV. "Rach... How did ya even realize ya were pregnant?"
"Well...," she drawled thoughtfully. "I got my period first. When it first start when you're thirteen it's normal, but when you're in your early twenties... I had a real panic attack," she laughed merrily, remembering her flighty state. "I thought I had vaginal cancer or something."
"Rachel," you giggled quietly along with her.
After calming down a bit, she continued. "I went to the doc right away, and he calmed me down, saying I was just menstruating. Only he was looking unkindly at my medical records. Dunno, maybe I imagined it. Just a couple weeks later, I got so sick...," she whimpered, placing a hand on her still growing belly. "I thought I had poisoned myself with something, but Rob kept following me around and insisting to take a pregnancy test. So, it just happened," she pressed her palm harder against her lower abdomen, and she could have sworn she felt another heartbeat even though her common sense screamed that it was too early for that. "Ya think I'll be a good mom?" she asked muffled, almost bashfully.
"Uh...," you drawled surreptitiously, playing with a strand of her hair. "I guess so? Actually, it depends on the kid, too. It's a matter of luck," you shrugged, trying to choose your words. "If it's a gifted child - fine, but if it's not... Well, then ya'll be scrubbing shit off the walls," you giggled, which earned you another hard slap to the knee. "That hurts!" you squeaked.
The fact that she was unaware of it was neither comfort nor relief. The deeper you went into your thoughts, the more your hands shook as if your mind were a labyrinth, its icy walls stretching to the edge of heaven, leaving no way out. You didn't know if you had to do it or if you just wanted to, but it seemed like the best solution.
Toxicosis is a terrible thing. Either a woman eats a lot and then vomits, or she eats nothing at all and still vomits. After a few trips to the bathroom with Rachel, she finally fell asleep. You carefully put a pillow under her head instead of your lap and headed to the second floor.
You didn't spend more than a minute in there. All you had to do was walk as quietly as possible past the sleeping Rob, steal his phone, and carry it into the workroom. Trifling matter, but when you got to the desk, you couldn't bring yourself to plug the phone into the computer. You felt like you were shackled, and the more you resisted, the harder the shackles dug into your skin - a familiar feeling that made you collapse helplessly into the chair.
"Need help?" the suave mechanical voice was like a nudge or just a key to all the chains for you.
"Meg," you addressed the artificial intelligence, finally plugging the cable into the computer. "Find something," you sobbed raggedly, watching as his phone lit up, announcing that the connection had been successful. "Find something that says he had nothing to do with this."
***
Vito looked at you as if you were mentally unstable. Everyone else had left to celebrate the completion of Hopetown, and you were the only one sitting in the kitchen, in absolute silence and total darkness. No garland was lit. No crickets were chirping. No cold wind rushing in.
Doc probably only told you about it because he knew Rob was Kyle's best friend. He wouldn't have been able to judge impartially, and there was no telling which evil would show its face. A desperate attempt at vindication, or a brutal, agonizing murder. "Eh," Vito sighed, wrapping elastic bandages around his legs. "I was born to drink beer, not this stuff," he glanced at you sneakily. "And why aren't ya at the party?"
"I felt sorry for ya," you joked back.
"Come on," Vito said cheerfully. "I bet next year someone else will get a shift on those dates, and I'll make up for it then."
After waiting for him to lace up his boots and put on his mask, you got up and went to see him off. When you got to the training field, the same point from which every voidrunner departed, Vito nodded, and after telling you to drink a bottle of beer for him, disappeared in a purple flash.
You walked around the place where the man had been a few seconds ago, took a dozen steps toward the forest, and turned around, leaving footprints in the snow. The clammy anticipation of the inevitable made your palms sweat. The clouds of vapor coming out of your mouth were jagged, intermittent, but not from the cold, for all you felt was desolation.
You could feel his presence, but you couldn't sense his thoughts or his moods. You ran a hundred excuses in your head for him, but none of them fit. Your gut shook more and more as he approached. Before the purple flash was even born, you covered your eyes with your hand.
Rob didn't look hurt or tired, only frantically shaking something off his sides with his hands, unaware that there was someone standing ten paces behind him. Someone with obvious motives, someone with courage and no sympathy. Perhaps if he'd paid attention to the fresh footprints, he might have been able to do something about it.
"Relocate."
There was no longer a field beneath your feet - it was a scaffold. One of your hands rested on his shoulder, and the other, clutching the dagger, was between his shoulder blades. The dagger cut the flesh silently, so your conscience was silent, too. It was very quiet. No sobs, no whimpering. Only when you twisted the dagger and pulled it sharply from Rob's heart was there a gurgling wheeze.
The man tried to turn around, but he didn't have time - his legs gave up before he could. He fell to his knees, and only after a few long moments, collapsed face first into the ground.
You'd always loved the sight of blood running down a back - a sure sign that the reaper had gone unnoticed. You watched blankly as the scarlet puddle spread beneath Rob, desecrating the pure white color, and you never realized that this was the first murder you'd ever committed that didn't make your hands tremble.
Your world froze, but everything continued to live without your participation. To the songs of the white wind under the northern sky, winter was sweeping everything away. The ground, the cooling body, the sins of the living and the dead. The only thing left untouched and naked were your bloody hands.
There were two persons in the field. One was the best friend, the father, the husband. The other was the one who took it all away.
It was a sudden revelation that was never meant to be spoken, and Gojo froze in place, trying not to scare you away. You took it in your own way, though you tried not to think about how badly you might have spoiled his attitude toward you by telling him about your past. It was better to keep your mouth shut as it had been, and though Gojo was sometimes angry at you for it, you'd never felt like he was about to leave for good before. "Rob never had time to figure out who killed him, and Rachel never found out what happened to him," you continued to drown yourself, forgetting your sense of self-preservation. "I just told her that he never came back from the void," you were disturbed to your shaking knees by this uncertainty - Gojo still had his arm around your waist but remained motionless, you couldn't even hear his breathing above your ear. "I used to reassure myself that it was best for her, that she'd never know what he'd done or how much Mike's life really cost, but... I guess those were just pathetic excuses for a coward like me. That's all."
"Look at me," though there was nothing commanding in his tone, his hand tugged at your waist, forcing you to turn around. "A real coward wouldn't have done anything and let it go, but not you," Gojo said, stroking your cheek soothingly. He would have given anything for you to look at him now, to feel how sincere his words were, but you only squinted your eyes harder. "I killed Megumi's father," he admitted on an exhale, and you opened your eyelids. "I'm not seeking for attention, it's just...," Gojo mumbled embarrassedly, but didn't take his palm away from your face. "It would be fair of me to admit something in return. And... Uh, he doesn't know about it either."
"How come?"
"It's just happened," he grinned bitterly. "He had a person to kill and I was just in the way. To be honest, he kicked my ass pretty good, but it was that bastard that made me stronger," Gojo sighed wistfully at the recollection that seemed to have faded into oblivion. "I never got to protect that person, though," he added more quietly.
"But ya've protected many others."
"Exactly!" he brightened, burying his nose in your cheek. "So do you. Don't ever forget that, 'kay?" you nodded your head weakly, but it was enough for him. If need be, he was willing to repeat it every day, and it didn't matter that there was a chance he'd pester you to the point where you'd ban him from the workroom forever. He could have come in through the window anyway.
The annoying feeling of worrying for someone had long ago turned to trepidation, and when Gojo felt you fidget once more, there was no way he could keep another question inside him. "How long ago did you stop sleeping?" your stunned stupor made him chuckle. "It's not like I'm a blind fool. You said you were gonna sleep in the other room, but when you're home, you don't leave the workroom at all."
You climbed under the blanket and pressed your forehead against his chest. "Ya've reached your limit of questions for today," you muttered sullenly, pouting your lips.
The only reaction he had to your behavior was tenderness. You may not have remembered it, but he'd seen you asleep once. In this very same spot, on this very same couch, which was illuminated by the light from the TV. He remembered covering a restless you with a blanket and sitting next to you all night, pretending to watch cartoons. "Come here," Gojo whispered softly into the top of your head. "Come here," taking advantage of your lack of comprehension, he rolled over onto his back, wrapped both arms around your waist, and laid you on top of him with enviable ease. His arms closed around you in case you decided to run away, even though he realized that if you wanted to disappear, you would. But you remained motionless, leaning your head against his chest. "Try to get some sleep, 'kay?"
The song of his heart was fast and feverish, but it wasn't annoying. In the timid embrace of such a rare guest as a dream, you heard another melody, unfamiliar one. The longer this melody was played, the more embrace became tender and stronger, but did an ordinary dream know how to embrace like that?
Gojo hummed softly to himself, hardly saying any words. It was a muffled melody, and he doubted you could hear it. Either way, you began to fidget less and to raise your head less often, looking around the space with a blurred gaze. "Shh," he hushed quietly as you jumped up once more and gently returned your head back to his chest. "It turns out you're puffing. You knew that?" after all, he had already kissed you once, would it make it worse if he did it again? Gojo didn't remember himself as his lips covered everything they could reach with tender kisses. "My baby," he whispered softly, touching with his lips the spreading black lines on your forehead. "You're so beautiful," he breathlessly babbled nonsense into your blackened hair and smiled foolishly, but his face changed immediately as if someone was trying hard to take you away from him. "I'll always be there for you. I promise."
You were pushed from side to side as if you weighed nothing, but it wasn't anyone's fault. There were more people in the bar this time, but everyone was still as drunk and happy as ever. When you heard the threatening creak, you unconsciously bounced. An old wooden sign fell where you had just been standing. A cheeky hooting sounded, profanity was heard everywhere, and a bottle smashed against the wall a few feet away. You ducked as if you were in a battlefield and headed for the familiar staircase.
It was still the same fog of cigarette smoke, but it was a lot calmer. Maybe it was the quiet people who gathered here or maybe it was the influence of the sullen-looking bartender. He was still polishing the glasses.
No one was interested in anyone here. When you walked in, not a single head turned in your direction. The people here were happy in their own way, and they didn't care about anyone else. "Sunshine!" a joyful, familiar voice called out to you.
When you looked over, you saw Kyle sitting at a round table. He had a glass of light beer in front of him, and judging by his blissful look, it wasn't his first glass. He was surrounded by painfully familiar faces, but that pain carried with it only surprise. Vito was slyly pouring more alcohol into Kyle's glass, and your brother's shoulder was gripped tightly by a man's hand. Rob sat next to him, encouraging them both.
"Hey guys," you smiled, taking a seat across from them.
"Hey! Why ya sitting so far away?" whined Kyle drunkenly, holding out his arms to you. "Come here!" you looked at this picture through your fingers. Shifting your gaze to Rob, you saw him raise his eyebrows guiltily.
"I see ya two are best friends again?" you asked snidely, pulling Kyle's beer glass to you. Kyle was drunk, but he was able to focus and send you a questioning look, even though you thought his eyes were about to drift apart.
"All right, lad, let's go bring ya to your senses," Vito announced businesslike, lifting Kyle by the shoulders in one jerk.
"Oh my," you said meaningfully, watching as Vito dragged Kyle's collapsed body on his back. "It's not even a day later, and he's already on a roll."
"He's been looking out for ya all his life," Rob reminded you, laughing. "He's long overdue for a rest," he sighed as the door to the restroom slammed shut behind the men. An awkward silence hung. You had a lot to say to each other, and only one of you needed the courage to start. "Ya mad?" asked Rob quietly, looking into your eyes.
"No," you replied simply, shaking your head and pressing your lips together. "I'm not."
"Ya didn't tell him?" he nodded his head in the direction of the restroom.
"Kyle's not stupid. I think he figured it all out on his own."
"I just...," he began tentatively, and all his movements seemed awkward, embarrassed. Rob scratched the back of his head thoughtfully before continuing. "I just want ya to know. I don't regret anything."
"Yep," you chirped, sipping from Kyle's glass and immediately grimaced. You sighed heavily, wanting as soon as possible to say goodbye forever to the feeling that made your soul clench into a helpless lump. "Me too."
"That's your style," Rob laughed and immediately relaxed. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "How's... How's my baby boy?"
"Mike is fine. He's nothing like ya," you stated, wrinkling your nose. "Not in looks, not in personality."
"It's for the best," he said, raising his glass as if his words were a toast. Taking a sip from the glass, Rob set it back on the table with a thud. "And how's my wife?"
"She is okay," you lied, shrugging indifferently. "Ya know her. She can handle anything."
"Oh yeah," he drawled meaningfully, stretching and putting his hands on the back of his head. "I never thanked ya," he started laughing softly again, and you realized what he was getting at.
"Kyle brought ya two together, not me," you tried unsuccessfully to remind him, but Rob was already flying in his memories.
"He just gave me her number and some idiotic advice," he waved it off carelessly. "And ya," he literally jabbed his finger at you. "Ya're the one who told me to bring a bouquet of garlic bread and dried squid instead of flowers on our first date," you clucked your tongue and involuntarily hid half your face in your palms, hoping he'd get your sign and not continue. "And how she chased it all with beer, mmm," he thought blissfully, closing his eyes. "I was all gone," he chuckled again. "Here comes our drunk," he announced, nodding toward a sobered Kyle.
He looked like he was being dragged to trial. His face was still wet and red, and he clutched his clenched hands to his chest with all his might. "I'm sorry," he said quietly to you, sitting down next to you. "I forgot myself a little," he stared guiltily at the table, not daring to look you in the eye.
"You deserve it," you reminded him, shoving him gently with your shoulder. Suddenly, on cue, a thought popped into your head as if your mind was a jewelry box and someone had just put a piece of jewelry in there. "By the way, Kyle," you chirped, reaching into your pocket with your hand. You didn't take it with you, you didn't even think about it, so why did you have it? "Ya left something," you said, holding out a silver bracelet to him.
"Oh shit!" worried Kyle, taking the jewelry from your hands and placing it on his wrist. "I thought it was gone forever..."
"Don't lose it anymore," you jokingly chastised him.
"Thank ya," he wrapped his arms around you and began kissing your face, and you wrinkled unhappily at the touch of wet black strands against your skin.
When he was done with his affection, you unceremoniously pushed the beer glass away from him. You decided to stay out of the men's conversations and musings - they'd been gone too long already. You'd heard stories about their first dates, their first fights, and there seemed to be some generational difference between Vito, Kyle and Rob.
Kyle wouldn't be himself if he hadn't noticed your state of mind even in the midst of a cheerful conversation. He could see your desperate gaze circling the bar, searching for someone. "Sunshine...," he began, taking your hand. "I'm sorry, but she's not coming tonight."
"I thought so."
You're just now noticing that there's been music playing in the bar the whole time. Quiet, but energetic. You only realized this because your brother looked playfully into your eyes. "Shall we dance?"
"Kyle, I can't dance," you protested weakly, flinching away.
"Just a twitch, then," he chuckled, taking you under the arm and pulling you from the table.
There wasn't a single person here dancing. Maybe they didn't know it was allowed or maybe they just didn't want to. Either way, no one paid any attention to you. Everything merged in your clumsy movements, and did so tightly that it ceased to exist at all. You forgot what happened yesterday and didn't know what would happen tomorrow, the only thing that mattered to you now was Kyle dancing and laughing right in front of you. He was alive and whole, and no one tore him apart. He still loved and supported you even when you failed.
The two of you, panting and red, Kyle from the exertion and you from the embarrassment, didn't notice as the bar began to empty. People lingered here for a long time, but they left quickly one by one, and now there were empty tables all around you. "Okay, that's it," he put his arm around your shoulders, trying to catch his breath. Kyle saw Rob and Vito already getting ready, slipping their jackets over their shoulders. "Sunshine," he whispered, looking into your eyes confused. "I'm sorry. But we really have to go."
"It's okay," you cheered him up. "I understand everything. Go."
He pulled you hard against him, but at this point, you couldn't feel how much love he actually put into it. "See ya," Kyle whispered into the top of your head, and he could barely pull away from you as if every inch between you was causing him a tremendous amount of pain.
"See ya," you said after him.
The same bartender was still sullenly going about his work as if he had an endless supply of dirty glasses under the bar. When all the door bells rang out, you looked around and realized you were alone in that corner bar again.
The crackle of burning wood in the fireplace and the smell of smoldering timber brought calmness, one of the few states of mind available to them. Not discerning day or night, sun or moon, love or hate, but only pretending to know everything around them, these creatures sat in corners, in shadows, trying to sort out their own affairs. "It's time to stir up the hornet's nest."
Rei reluctantly raised his head. "Hm?" he lazily uttered, examining the ceiling of the room as if the person speaking was sitting there. "If you meant kill them all, there's a different expression for that. You should be around people more often," Rei stuck back into the fashion magazine and slid the whiskey glass closer to him.
"Who has access to the repository with the artifact?" the creature asked, ignoring the barbed remarks.
"Frank and his kids," Rei replied nonchalantly, admiring the model's sultry skin on one of the pages. He ran his finger across the page. Why instead of a soft smooth texture he didn't feel even a pitiful semblance?
"How fortunate you killed the lad," the creature hissed
"Do I hear sarcasm in your voice?" grinned Ray, looking up again. "Oh, come on," he laughed, grabbing a glass of whiskey, the ice rattling as if it were afraid. "You're the one who advised me to watch out for the redheaded girl. We didn't need the lad. He just got in the way."
"Any luck finding anything out?"
"Nope," Rei muttered, pouting his lips demonstratively. "Her only weaknesses are alcohol and sex. I like her, by the way," a smile slowly formed on his face, and he turned back to the model. Rather, to her sultry skin.
"You can't be entrusted with anything at all," the creature disappointed, and the glass the demon clutched in his hand crackled. The thin glass shattered into hundreds of small shards, but never broke. "We need someone with powers of observation."
Taking a couple deep breaths, Rei came to his senses. "Stop underestimating me. Even if we did have it, the town is protected by relics," he said irritably, carefully setting the glass aside. "They only protect it from demons and dark energy, though. No one said anything about the rest," the indignation was replaced by a mad chuckle so quiet and short it could penetrate anywhere. Under the skin, under the bones, into the heart.
"Is there someone in mind?"
"Yeah, kinda," Rei chirped, wiggling his leg flirtatiously. Maybe he should have done it for nothing because every movement of that body created an rage in him that he couldn't get rid of. The more he spat it out, the harder he let it out, the more it came back to him. There was only one thing that could do it all.
"You're still not happy about something."
"Give me one good reason why I should stay in this body or I'll change it immediately," he bellowed, tugging on a shirt that was twice his size.
"Have you tried working out?" the voice suggested sincerely and courteously. "They say it builds muscle."
"Why don't I start eating fucking porridge in the morning too?" Rei clenched his teeth in anger, pitching forward.
"You can't change your body right now," the creature warned. The glass, already battered and hitherto standing peaceful on the table, burst. "Your date hasn't happened yet. She needs to see this," there was a huge upside to each creature seeing and hearing what the other creature saw and heard. At least, if it wasn't hiding. Rei moaned quietly, pitifully in pleasure as he saw your image through the prism of the one who spoke to him. "Calm down. It'll be a while yet, but until then... You need to stay in this body. If you hate it so much... I think you could change it a bit."
"That's right," he said cheerfully, taking off his glasses and breaking them in half. Only one small detail remained. Grabbing the shears from the table and going to the mirror, Rei cut off a long black braid in one motion.
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