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#i could get added to his plan
benevolenterrancy · 12 days
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May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home
#svsss#luo binghe#shen qingqiu#bingqiu#sqq#lbh#scum villain#heard the song Take This Body Home by Rose Betts and it nearly took me out at the knees#it really really suits sqq's self-detonation in hua yue city right? i'm not the only one feeling this?#considered adding some literal shards for them to be stepping on - since sqq's sword explodes - but i couldn't quite make it work#anyway this has been playing like a music video in my head for the past couple days highly recommend listening to the song#if you haven't heard it before#can't get over the absolute dissonance between how sqq views this scene and how everyone else must feel about it#like to him he's just completing his plan - hopefully keeping lbh from destroying a city with energy imbalance and escaping The Plot#nbd! he and sqh have planned it all out it's FINE :) off he goes!#meanwhile everyone who loves him - including lbh who worked years to get back to him and is trying to work through a lot of grief#and resentment and doubt and longing and... - watches him DIE in FRONT OF THEM#just collapse while coughing up blood sword disintegrating energy completely consumed#like holy hell sqq could you traumatize the people around you any more???#no wonder lbh went a little bit crazy after that like my man was already not in a great place but what the fuck#lbh watches his shizun presumably sacrifice himself for him ONCE AGAIN like after he's finally Gotten Strong his shizun is STILL#coming to harm in an effort to make up for his shortcomings#my art#most of the time out here drawing what amounts to muppets and then sometimes i get the urge for this and just need to cover everyone in blo
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Give me Nicky creating a video full of blurry photos and awkward 2000s transitions for Neil's bday (not the actual one, the 31st of March one) with the "Bitch" song by meredith Brooks.
Lyrics come up, "I'm a bitch" and it's a still of Neil roasting on press duty
"Im a lover" Neil stealing a glance at Andrew, a small smile on his face
"Im a child" photo taken from high angle of Neil looking up at the camera, indignation all over his face, a granola bar in his mouth
"Im a mother" Neil pointing at Kevin chewing him out while Kev is saying sth arms crossed on his chest (or better yet, Kevin and Jean walking to opposite directions but there's a leash around their chest that Neil is holding)
"Im a sinner" shot of Neil eating pinneaple on Pizza and Matt and Dan looking horrified and disgusted on the background
"Im a saint" meme of the cat with the dozen knifes at its throat but on the face of the cat is a poorly cropped picture of Neil raising his eyebrow
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raifuujin · 4 months
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It's been more than 20 years and for some reason I feel that Gosho hasn't given Kaiao any development, how can more than 20 years pass and Aoko dynamics, relationship and feelings remain the same? At this point I feel like Gosho is just going to make them date because "they already liked each other" they remain in the same status quo
Hey, if we go by DC romance progress, they've been going too fast. We've already had suspicion of identity chapters, and that didn't happen until more than 400 chapters in DC. /j
Since heists have taken over any character development recently, I don't even know if Kaito and Aoko will even get any romantic progress. Maybe the actual identity confrontation will happen down the line, since that's thief drama, but atm, it really wouldn't surprise me if they only ask each other on a real date at the very end of the manga.
Like. I'm sure Gosho would love to make MK a love drama as well, but he writes MK so rarely, and usually as hype for something Kid related in other media. So the MK stories tend to be heavy on drama that can only take place at Kid heists. (To the point that the new chapters just. Use Kid as the plot device to show off a new character. Even Hakuba's never gotten so much 'look at this character being a detective' treatment in MK.)
-sighs- I just feel bad for MK as a series at this point. I like the characters, I like the general story idea, but. It's been going down a very steep hill with Gosho wanting things exciting, but not wanting any real progress in. Anything. But unlike old MK, the new stories aren't even nice standalone setpieces of story, they're... mundane. They could be high stakes, if you purely look at the scenarios on paper, but. We all know nothing's gonna happen to Kid. Nothing even happens to him when the actual bad guys show up, much less one-time antagonists.
We need actual character focus and development, not heist drama. Badly. Not even romance, though that'd be a nice change. Just any character expansion of our limited cast of characters. Gosho wants big, all the time, meaningless big stuff, when small would be so nice.
#And also he probably won't care to expand on KaiAo when he knows it's already canon#Like; not in the same way that ShinRan is canon endgame and he just needed to write it out#But in a 'I said these two were dating in another manga; they will exist even if I haven't written it'#And his story atm does feel like it could be left off with an ambiguous note on if they're together or not#And then just leave them dating in Yaiba for people who care about confirmation#MK is not in a stable enough state; I really don't know what he's planning with anything#And it's been so. -gestures to all the 'meaningless big stuff'- lately#I don't know if it'll ever get any shift in focus in the future#We barely get anything; all we have now is a new character people are divided about#And the tiniest continuity of Aoko thinking to herself that Kid is teasing her by reminding her of Kaito#Like; part of the problem is continuity as well; at least if Gosho wants to stick with DC-ish MK#MK has all the potential for callbacks or returning characters that could be interesting#But none of the potential that fans enjoy is ever /used/#We got all our KaiAo up front. We have suspicion arcs where it's barely mentioned that Kaito's proven his innocence in the past#They could go back to the amusement park and Aoko could mention the movie and Kaito can be sweating#Because he never saw the movie; that's then he peaced out to go heisting#There's so much. Gosho's good at adding potential to his story#But everything he comes up with to make canon ends up disappointing because he never fully uses any of it#He just adds more and more elements that go nowhere#MK is a mess that gets more and more fun to play around in; but the actual chapters are. Bad#Which might be for a reason similar to DC of we wait so long and get something extremely meh#Except instead of the months between DC cases; it's years for MK; and DC fans complain the entire time#So when MK fans are fed crumbs of... anything. It's just not as enjoyable as new content should be#(I got rambly in tags; sorry ;._. )
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rykno-j · 1 year
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What it means to be the Strongest (j/jk)
Again writen with s/atos/ugu in mind, but unestablished, though definitely in love.
Summary: So my previous fic, if i remember correctly, had a line like:
["S/atoru, you've been too strong for too long. Let me take over, even if just for a little while."]
and then i realised i have something like that in my drafts, so why not i just develop the thought a little?
Notes: the timeline for this would be set before my previous fic [here] but reading it it isn't required to understand this one.
possibly written in the context of pre-RCT g/ojo? because i didn't want him to have the ability to replenish himself in any way. cue "Domain Amplification": Exhaustion.
there's also a point in the fic i used single inverted commas, like this: '[text]'. js to clarify, those are not actual dialogue but just g/eto's thoughts. uh.. it will make more sense when you reach that part..
And finally, to cope with the month of wait before Shibuya, I present to you..
3.4k words
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"Satoru, you've been specially requested."
"..Specially requested."
"..Specially resquested."
Geto watches as Gojo visibly deflates, before he shakes his head, expression changing as he stands up with that same bravo as ever.
"Right!! I'll prepare to leave immediately!"
The quiver in his legs don't go unnoticed by Geto.
This has been been happening for the past month. Don't they have other sorcerers that they can send?
The answer to that was obvious.
Of course there was. But who in the right mind would call on someone who was below 'the best option'?
Mission after mission, Geto finds himself missing the company of his friend. Normally, they would go on them together, but the recent spike in cases had left him with barely any space to breathe either, though he was relatively sure they were easier on him compared to Gojo.
He swears the other hadn't slept in weeks. Geto would return to their dorms, and the bed would still made the way he left it in the morning.
The few times he had tried to look under Gojo's sunglasses for eyebags, his hand had been swatted away, either physically or stopped with Infinity.
"Suguruu- I'm fine, don't worry about me."
"..Then look me in the eyes and say that again."
Gojo would laugh in response, waving his wrist dismissively in Geto's direction. "Of course I'm fine, we're the strongest, remember? It won't be fair I claimed to be tired now would it? Not that I am, of course."
Yes it would be, it would be fair. You need breaks too, Geto wanted to say, was going to say, if not for another interruption, this time from Gojo's phone.
It lit up in his lap, before the screen was raised to eye level. Geto watched as Gojo's eyebrows furrowed, shoulders slumping almost unnoticeably in disappointment.
He has seen this play out a thousand times before. As much as Geto wanted to reach out to drag Gojo back down next to him, his hand was frozen to his side.
"Another special request.. ahhh- I guess I better go get ready."
Geto watched silently as Gojo sauntered away, as if he was about to leave for a party, not a possibly life-threatening mission. Seriously.. he was forever taking things too lightly.
Geto wanted to do something, anything. Maybe file a request to give Satoru some space to breathe? Possibly even an argument that allowed him to join in the missions as backup?
Anything.
But there was always the possibility that Gojo would turn down rest, no matter how desperately he needed it. He was wearing himself dangerously thin, like a thread about to snap. All he needed was a little tug to break.
Break.
___
Days later:
"Satoru- want to go get a drink? I just saw the workers leaving, I think they got the machines refilled."
When met with no reply, Geto turned back, only to see Gojo spacing out a distance away.
"Sa-to-ru. Satoru- are you there?"
He walks up to the other, waving an open palm in front of the bowed head.
Behind the sunglasses, Geto sees Gojo's eyelashes flutter open before a finger came up to push them back into position, covering his eyes from view.
"Ah- yeah I'm here. Sorry, what were you saying?"
There he went again, dozing off at every chance he got. Geto noticed that had started happening two days ago. In class, during training, while queuing for food, while standing. And now, even while walking.
"..hH'!! ..hAH'sHHiew!! hh'..heH'tchH!!"
And there was that too. Something was definitely wrong.
"Satoru- when's the last time you slept?"
"I was just sleeping, hahaha-! Didn't you see?"
"That's not-"
"Suguru, if you're going to chew me out for not resting again, I assure you, I'm perfhH'.. perfectly.. fhH'.. fine-"
Geto shot him a look that screamed "Really??", and Gojo would have seen it, if not for the fact he snapped to the side violently, bending over as his breath hitched desperately.
"..hh'-hIH-tcHH'iew!! ..hAH'zZchHiw!!"
"Sa-"
"Dhh'..Don't worry abou'uhH'- hhH'!! hiH'zZchh!! ..hAH'DzZsh'w!! ..a-about me."
With the way he was swaying at the moment, Geto was sure a light breeze could knock him over.
What more, with the way he was standing, slouched over, a passerby would never be able to tell that Gojo was the taller of the two.
Hence, while Geto wouldn't consider himself to be one who actively sought after physical contact with Gojo (that's a lie though), he couldn't help but inch closer to the other, putting a comforting arm around Gojo's waist.
Geto then stared at the top of Gojo's head. Did his hair always look this messy? Surely not. Satoru wasn't one who paid too much attention to appearances, but this was taking it to an extreme.
"You look like you're going to collapse. Seriously. Tell me what's wrong."
"..Maybe- maybe.." Gojo mumbled as a response to Geto's earlier statement. "..Maybe I'm not feeling as well I thought.. haha-"
Geto sighs. "Took you damn near long enough. Come on, let's head back to our dorm. The drinks can wait."
Gojo whined something incomprehensible before he reached out a shaky hand to grab the arm supporting him from behind. He tilted his head up at an angle to shoot Geto a playful yet tired smirk. "Wait.. ahhh- Suguru.. s-sorry- I think.. I think I'm gonna to pass out right now."
Of course. Of course he could still find the energy to fool around in such circumstances. It was one of Gojo's character traits that Geto never understood.
He had half a mind to ask the other to snap out of it. But upon further inspection, Geto watched as Gojo's pupil glazed over with a hazy, faraway look, before it shrunk, eyelids sliding shut as Gojo went slack in his arms.
Seriously. Jokes like these should really be saved for less dire situations.
"..Satoru.. come on, let's go back."
No response.
"..Oi- Satoru.. you can't be serious. Quit fucking with me.."
No response. It's fine. Gojo liked messing with him after all.
"..S-Satoru.. oi Satoru!"
"..Fuck."
"..Fuck Fuck FUCK-! You can't be serious-"
He wasn't joking.
Forgetting that he could always manipulate his curses to handle Gojo's weight, Geto slipped his free hand under Gojo's knees, hauling him into his arms, bridal style.
"..Asshole! You're such an asshole."
'Your asshole though, right?' Geto could hear Gojo's teasing voice in his head as he made his way quickly through the hallway, his pace bordering a sprint.
That's right. My asshole.
Geto placed Gojo gently on the freshly made bed. It was probably the first time in weeks he had laid there. A soft groan escaped Gojo's lips as his head made contact with the soft pillow.
Good. He wasn't dead yet.
However, a quick touch to his cheek made Geto question his previous thought. With a fever like that, how was he not dead?
Quickly grabbing a small towel, Geto soaked it with water from his bottle, wringing it onto the floor before he brought it to the other's forehead. The mess of water puddles could wait. He had more important things to tend to.
Geto carefully folded and set Gojo's sunglasses aside, gently brushing away the strands of hair covering his face. The wet cloth was then put on his forehead.
It's not much, but it should help.
Knowing Gojo, he probably didn't take any medicine since this started. Speaking of which, Geto made a mental note to ask when it did. Gojo had been busy with a mission for the past few days, so it probably meant he was working through whatever this was.
Probably a cold.
The sneezing earlier should have been an obvious indication, but the fever he was currently running sealed the deal.
Geto knew exhaustion would eventually catch up to him. To be completely honest, he had thought Gojo would give in earlier. He must have been holding out way pass his limits.
It was alright to be weak at times, even for the 'Strongest', a concept that Gojo never seemed to understand. Either that or he did, but chose to ignore it in place of his ego and the fact that he didn't want anyone else to get hurt in his place if the curses turned out to the stronger than reported.
Geto suspected the reason leaned more towards the latter. Gojo had always cared about others in his own way, whether he considered them weak or not. Although.. with the way he openly made fun of people around him, it would cause others to beg otherwise.
Geto knew him better than that.
A soft whine drew him back into the present. Geto turned to focus his attention on Gojo. Even in the dimly lit room, his brilliant blue eyes were hard to miss, hard to look away from, no matter how dulled they were from the haze of the fever.
"Suguru.. Suguru-"
"Shh. Rest. I'm here."
"..You carried me here?"
"Mm."
Gojo let out a laugh that looked like it took all his effort. "You're stronger than you look then."
"You're just lighter than you look."
The small exchange put Geto slightly more at ease. If Satoru could still make any conversation into a joke, he was fine. Well, it at least meant his brain wasn't fried yet.
A sharp, feathery inhale dragged Geto's attention back to the bed.
"..hih'tchh!! hh'..hah'tchiw!!"
"Bless you." God. Even his sneezes sounded tired, a complete difference from his normal, over exaggerated ones.
"snff'- ..thanks."
Gojo looked seconds away from passing out again, his fist closing around the soft blanket. Sighing, Geto stood up.
"Alright, that's enough of being awake for you. Go back to sleep, okay? Let yourself rest for once."
"Hah.. so reluctant to talk to me?"
Quite the opposite, actually, Geto wanted to say. Instead, he reached over to straighten the cloth. It had fallen over to cover one of Gojo's eyes, making him look a lot more endearing than Geto would ever care to admit.
"Of course not. I just have something I have to get done, so I'll be leaving for a bit."
Geto turned away right as Gojo's frame sunk into the mattress in disappointment. If he had seen it, there was no way Geto would have left his side for another good year.
"Mm, okay."
Geto was careful not to open the door too wide. It was early in the evening, and he wanted to let in as little light as possible. Satoru had always been sensitive after all.
Behind the closed door, Gojo turned to the side, snatching Geto's pillow into his chest, pulling it into a tight embrace. He was sure the other wouldn't mind.
__
Getting pissed won't help anybody, Geto knew that, he really did. But with Gojo practically forced into bed-rest for at least half a week, he needed to raise some of his concerns to his teachers, at least.
He pulls the classroom door open.
"Sensei-"
"Ah, Suguru. Right on time. I've got a new mission file for you."
"Right. That's exactly what I've come to talk to you ab-"
"Satoru has been specially requested."
"..See that's-"
"But I've written in to specially request you to follow him."
"-exactly what I've been.. huh? What?"
The teacher gave him a knowing smile before sliding a file over the table. Of course. Always doing things in a roundabout way. He's seen that before.
"..Thank you."
He takes the file, quickly leaving the classroom afterwards, his legs taking him subconsciously back to where the dorms where as his hands occupied themselves with flipping through the documents.
Halfway through the mission file, Geto feels something slip out from between the pages. He leans forward to pick it up, a knowing smile flashing across his face.
A small packet of fever medicine.
Seems his teacher had the same idea, that Gojo would never go out of his way to get supplies, if at all, when he fell sick. Well, that saved him half the trouble.
And here came the other half.
When Geto returned to their dorm, he noticed the aura of Gojo's technique surrounding himself. It shocked him at first, but Geto figures that in his vulnerable state, Gojo's mind subconsciously casts infinity to keep him safe.
Though.. it could also have been a side effect from all the dangerous missions that they had put him through for the past month, such that his body was on heightened alert even during rest.
Well that's a first.
He hadn't really been around Gojo while he was sick before, especially not to the extent of passing out like that.
Surely this continuous usage of Infinity counted as over-exertion, evident from Gojo's slightly furrowed eyebrows despite him being asleep. His breathing was also choppier than usual, either due to the congestion or disturbed rest.
Surprisingly, Geto noticed that Infinity seemed to thin out as he approached the bed.
He remembers Gojo telling him, "Suguru- you know, I can totally tell apart your cursed energy from others!"
Was Satoru's body really recognising him and relaxing because of it? Guess that whole 'telling apart' thing wasn't a lie after all.
Geto reaches out a palm and presses it against Gojo's forehead. His hand easily passes through the barrier, making contact with the other. The damp cloth lay uselessly by the side of the pillow, having fulfilled its purpose.
Still warm, but cooler than before.
Gojo whines against the touch as he slowly stirs. "Suguruu- you're backk.."
"Mm." Geto hummed in reply, sitting himself by the edge of the bed. "Did you sleep well?"
"Ah.. not really."
The raw honesty catches Geto off-guard, especially compared to the previous few days, where Gojo would wave him off for being too worried, right up till the point he collapsed.
He supposes that upon admitting "I'm not feeling well", Gojo's walls simply crumbled, leaving him in Geto's care.
The mattress shifted as Gojo turned to the side, a wrist coming up to rub at his nose.
"S-Sorry.. I- hh' have t'hH-!! hih'tchh!! haH'zzchh!!"
He sniffles against his wrist, watching with teary eyes as Geto pulls out a small pack of travel tissues from the drawer before handing it to him.
"Th'hH-!! ..thank y-you.. hH'hihchH'iw!! hah'zzdchH!!"
He pulls out a piece, pressing it softly against his nose. Outside, the sun had barely start setting.
"..snff'.. Suguru- why are you here anyway? Don't you have better things to do?"
Better things to do than look after you? Unlikely. And your Infinity will just go up again once I leave. But of course Geto doesn't say that.
Instead, he raises the file in his hand. "Background information on a mission. I'll have to read it eventually anyway, I can do it here, I've got time."
"..A mission?"
"Yes. For the two of us, actually."
"Really?? I get to go with you this time?" Happiness seeped into his words, bringing an unconscious smile to Geto's face.
"Mm, but I doubt they'd let you go in this state."
Without even looking over, Geto swore he could hear the pout in Gojo's voice.
"Aw.. b-but I wna go with you."
"..Then get better. Quickly." Because I don't want to leave without you either. I'm never leaving you alone again if I can help it.
"Sigh- alright, alright.. I'll get some rest."
"Before that.." Geto suddenly remembered, rising to his feet to retrieve a mug. He should probably get Satoru to take the medicine as soon as possib-
Geto hears a crash behind him.
"SAtoru!"
On the floor, Gojo laughs softly at himself, hanging half off the bed.
"S-Sorry-"
"What were you doing?"
Gojo looked almost embarrassed. "Ah.. nothing, honestly.. I just.. I guess I just.. panicked when I saw you get up.. that's all. I thought you were going to leave again.."
Again? ..Oh, right. He had left for the classrooms earlier. Why didn't Satoru just say something before he did? Forget that. Why didn't he notice?
Geto quickly grabbed a mug, filling it with water before he returned to the bedside.
"I'm sorry."
"Hm? Ahh- it's okay, it's okay.. I was just saying silly things."
"No. Don't say that. It's okay to want company, to need company. That's why I'm here, right?"
"Mm, yeah."
"..Why do you sound so reluctant to admit it?"
Gojo shifted again, this time tilting his head away from Geto.
"..Suguru. Am I'm strong?"
"Mm, why the sudden question?"
"..Am I still considered strong if.. if something as simple as a cold can.. can.. hH'..hih'DzchH!! haH'tchHew!! ..snff'.. fuck. I can't even control those."
"I'd honestly be more surprised if you could." Geto replied, bringing the mug up to Gojo's lips. His voice sounded harsh, and the constant sneezes were not helping. "C'mon, look over here, you should drink something."
Gojo sighed, shifting the tissue away to drink from his mouth.
"Take these too."
"..Medicine? Where did you get those from?"
"Sensei."
"Ahh- damn. He really knows everything doesn't he?"
"Anyone on the outside could tell that you were wearing yourself thin, not just him. Shoko had her fair share of worries for you as well."
Gojo remained silent upon hearing that, seemingly very interested in the cup he was drinking from.
Geto felt his heart skip a beat. Had he said something wrong? Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned that fact it was obvious.
The silence lasted for a few moments, before Gojo inhaled sharply, turning to the side.
"..hH'-aH'zZchH!! hah-hH'tcHHiw!! hiH'dzZch'w!! hH'!!-..snff- hehh'tchhiw!"
Geto startled at the fit, though he quickly collected himself, eyes focusing on what appeared to be an extremely sorry Gojo.
In his hand was the empty mug, its contents having been spilled all over the blanket from the violent jerks, a side effect of the sneezing.
"..I'm s-orry.."
Geto paused in his actions of retrieving a cloth for the mess. Something was wrong. Satoru had a voice break? No matter how cute it was (god forbid he admit that), he had never heard the other say anything with such a broken tone before.
Forgetting the cloth, Geto quickly returned to Gojo's side, wrapping his arms around the shivering frame of Gojo's body, head resting above his.
Gojo froze in place, shocked at the sudden but welcomed contact. The mug in his hand slowly slipped off his fingers, falling onto the covers. A small whine escaped his lips yet again as Gojo's fingers repurposed themselves with grabbing gently at Geto's arm.
He found himself leaning into the warm embarce, turning his head slightly such that his cheek could rest against Geto's chest.
Gojo had longed for this for days. Days. Days. He could feel tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes. From the cold or from his overflowing emotions? He had no idea.
"Suguru. Come lie down with me, please?"
He didn't need to be asked twice.
Within seconds, Geto had climbed onto the bed, getting comfortable under the covers as he extended a hand to Gojo.
"Come. Leave that side. It's wet." An excuse to get Gojo into his arms.
Gojo crawled over to where Geto was waiting, instantly latching onto the other the moment he got close enough to do so.
As Geto's arms close around him once again, Gojo realised that he had never felt so.. so safe, so.. comforted, before. It was a new feeling, one he was afraid of yet welcomed.
He had only known Suguru for a year, but damn was the guy making him question his own feelings left right and center.
A hand found itself on the back of Gojo's head as he snuggled closer into Geto's chest, burying his nose into the folds of Geto's shirt.
Drowsiness slowly started to take over as Gojo felt like this was the first time in forever he was truly allowed to relax. Was it from the medicine? Or was it from Geto's steady heartbeat that was lulling him to sleep? In all honesty, it didn't matter.
Geto felt Gojo relax in his embrace. Once the stuffy soft snores started to slip into a rhythm, he tilted his head downwards, whispering in a low, soothing voice.
"Satoru, you've been too strong for too long. Let me take over, even if just for a little while."
That was the last thing said for the night, as Geto himself started to drift off into sleep, the sun setting behind him
Unknown to the other, Gojo's lips curled into a smile.
Really.. the things Suguru says when he thinks no one is listening. It was going to be the death of him one day.
-end-
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Finishing notes:
this fic actually stemmed from the phrase "what if Gojo's Infinity came up by itself when he's sick?" then it.. became.. this.. somehow..
decided to change their roles here ahhh- caretaker Getoo-
maybe i wrote Gojo a little out of character with the amount of clinging he did to Geto (also the whole DON'T LEAVE ME panic of a sick person in bed), but hey. i'm a strong advocate for clingy sick Gojo, sue me.
i also wanted to keep up the soft Gojo writing, soo i tried the whole "strong character falls weak to a cold" trope thing
BUT i also know for a FACT that i was NOT going to be satisfied if i just let Gojo go out like that, so i tried making his collapse scene exclusively *him*
by that i mean i tried making it slightly humorous. ahh well if it ended up not coming out like that.. it's still fine
also wanted to write a whole "Gojo pretending he's alright when he's not" fic, and was trying to capture the whole "once he admits he's not okay, everything comes crumbling down and he's a mess" thing
i feel like a lot more could have been written in this fic.. but the problem was i didn't know how to.. shshhdhshds im getting better i swear (abit more of this in the tags)
i hope the final scene read as soft as i was hoping it would. just picture Gojo sinking into Geto's hug, smooshing his face against Geto's chest, whining a whole bunch, breathing in his scent
..or maybe scratch the scent part, since Gojo's nose is a little congested//
anyway, hope it was a nice read and thankyou for stopping by!!
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appallinnballin · 4 months
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ououghgohg considering Entitys going to be its own thing separate from fnf i might just go and retag everything
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dutybcrne · 8 days
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Plot born from a Thinking bc of smth I saw:
Kaveh trying to find a way to obtain a vessel that functions like Katheryne’s bc he wants to give Mehrak her own body so they can be like a little family
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sxilor-1010 · 3 months
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I’m an au enthusiast (if you can’t tell), so I wanna know the deets. What kind of robot? is this similar to something like Detroit turning human or something else? Does Robot Egon imply he was ALWAYS a robot or just was put into a robot? Is he a ghost possessing a machine? I must know.
I feel stupid for not realizing you're an AU enthusiast but oh my god I'm so happy to be able to ramble about this!!! I did answer another ask about how this AU effects the storyline of Ghostbusters if you wanna give that a read first! It'll help to give an understanding for the plot c: But to answer your question, Robot Egon is pretty humanoid but he's not highly advanced humanoid like the Androids in Detroit: Become Human. His actual body (which is sorta designed like a mannequin doll) is made of the strongest metals the robotics company had at the time of the incident. His human skin is made up of rubber to cover up his metal body (which yes can be burnt off and its a bit of a scary sight), his hair is soft colored metal but scrunching it in your hand is akin to squeezing a metal sponge, and his blood mostly consists of oil and coolant. During the 'Awakening' period as a robot as Egon calls it, he took the time to study his body and what he was capable of now that he was beyond human flesh and bones. After a few days of studying his strengths and limits, the idea of experimenting and mechanically rearranging or upgrading parts of his body became known. With the help of Ray (much to slight discomfort of performing a live mechanical vivisection on his close friend), Egon managed to build himself into a living proton pack and ghost trap. The palms of his hands become neutrona wands, while his chest can suck up ghosts and hold them temporarily till they needed to be emptied. Oh, and he also upgraded his eyes to become PKE scanners. So if you see the sight of green light shining up and down, chances are it's Egon looking for the ghost with his eyes.
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thetimelordbatgirl · 4 months
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With all the mystery around who Ruby is and who her mom is, I really, really hope it isn't actually the Trickster like others have been saying, because while yes it would be nice to see something from SJA appear in current DW, it also would just feel weird at this point as the Trickster was such a Sarah Jane villain that it just feels wrong to give him to the Doctor as an enemy just because Sarah Jane is gone.
#like the way he had alot of connections to sarah jane versus none with the doctor#closest his brigade got was a connection to donna via the time beetle#but like hes always been a sarah jane enemy really#debuting via targetting her childhood friend and offering said childhood friend to switch sarah jane to her place to die#just because the future would be fucked without sarah jane#leading to a confrontation between the two in the place of non-existance or whatever its called#and just trickster earned a full spot on enemy list when erasing luke from existence and targeting maria#two kids sarah cares about fully#and then the next two times it was sarah jane's parents he tried to tempt her to save and therefore again mess up the timelien#and then got a guy as a minion to marry sarah jane but the doctor interrupted shit and ultiamtely thanks to sarah#the guy turns against the trickster and hes stopped#and i know the trickster was intended to return in S5 finale but like#i uh dont really like those plans they had for him and sky for so many reasons#literally ignored it in my fic when it comes to adult sky as it is#and last we got of him overall was fucking up sarah jane's funeral but getting defeated by everyone present#which...yeah that audio including that felt a lil weird and unneeded but#like i know people are saying they could be reusing the sky trickster plot with ruby but i really hope not#just because to me anyway it made no sense#especially for a villain whose focus has always been tempting others to cheat death and such#its how he causes chaos basically#let alone added unneeded shit to sky's character just to be an excuse to get rid of her at the end of S5#like at this point just do something different leave the trickster in SJA stuff...i would say have a luke audio with him#but as we know beyond bannerman road literally gave luke dust and made him pro-military and didnt even have him#talk with wormwood in her appearence so...
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ignorantsanonymous · 11 months
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The Tragedy Prayer
"Let us offer up a prayer to those who have perished in this nightmarish act of cruelty today.
And I remind you all, once again, that we pray not to God, but to ourselves; to sharpen our minds and to focus our wills.
Our Power, which burns within Us, exquisite be Our Might.
Our Kingdom come, Our Will be done, on Earth as it is within Us.
Give Us this day our fondest wish, and improve ever upon Us, as we strive ever to improve Ourselves.
And lead Us not into corruption or malaise, but give Us strength to persist in the face of adversity.
Lives have been taken needlessly from Us by a loathsome lost soul on a mission of evil.
May the sickness of this rotten death-urge vacate Our collective Being.
May the exploiters of tragedy find that their words turn to shit in their mouths.
May the deniers of tragedy find that they are denied mercy until they repent.
May the cruelty of this world be alleviated by the love and fellowship and brotherhood and sisterhood and siblinghood that We may find in Ourselves.
To love One Another and to serve One Another and to serve those that love Us.
And may Those whose souls are on this day scorched with pain and anguish find Their way to the balm of kindness.
Let Those who have been so darkly touched by the worst of humanity see now the best of it.
And may Our differences be cast aside, and all the bullshit cut through, until all that is left is the truth.
Let it be so."
-TJ Kirk (May 2022)
#In May of 2022 TJ posted a video discussing the tragedy and politics of the school shooting in Uvalde Texas of the United States#And he ended that video with this prayer#I omitted one word-- the word twenty-one-- the number of lives that were lost in Uvalde that day#because I plan on reblogging this every time a mass shooting happens in this country#I even added the first part to the description of this blog as a general prayer#This channel's name-- Ignorants Anonymous-- is of course a parody of the support groups#the ones that are supposed to aid those with addictions#and those support groups rely heavily on the christian religion as an anchor to help guide their members#though nowadays they try to be more inclusive--as long as you have an entity or concept you hold higher than yourself then#the twelve step program can still apply#along with the name I also wanted to similarly parody the religious aspect of the support group#kind of like how satanists parody abrahamic religions with the name of those religions' opposer#while ironically holding themselves to the message of peace and love preached by those texts than the actual followers of those religions d#You do not have to be atheist to follow this blog or to get use out of it but#I find that the words of TJ Kirk-- The Amazing Atheist-- do a better job at representing the theme of this blog than I ever could#i hope he never discovers this blog personally but if he does i hope he at least approves of my use of his expressions#prayer#tj kirk#the amazing atheist#amazing atheist#terroja kincaid#YouTube
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atypicalsouda · 2 years
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Comments from
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Fuyuhiko about/towards
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Kazuichi
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That I
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Can never
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EVER GET OVER ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Bonus but I’m reaching pretty far, it’s just the fact that it’s said right after Kaz’s “remember me specifically” comment that my brain took it the first time as Fuyu basically saying “of course I will”. I don’t want to like dampen Fuyu’s line here about remembering everyone not just Kaz but I’m stupidly obsessed so-
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spring-lxcked · 1 year
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hello i made myself laugh thinking abt how william is actually not necessarily as horrific of a dad when his kids are young and not "causing problems" and how, with his ego and them being His Kids, he would be fucking unbearable when it came to them being in like. a school play. sports. anything. father making snide comments abt his kids being the most talented. father clapping too loud when his kid (badly) plays the trumpet for a talent show. father who knows nothing abt dance but is convinced his kid is the next big star. he's not even living vicariously through them because he doesn't give a shit abt most of these things, it's just that! Those Are His Kids!! and they're perfect to him!! (for now) they're a part of him so they must be amazing!
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altruistic-meme · 2 years
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oh im gonna need to get over this :’]
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inbabylontheywept · 30 days
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i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.
adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.
right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.
it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.
still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.
i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.
i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.
so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.
coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."
and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.
still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.
i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.
so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went
...oh.
and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.
so i did.
i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.
i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.
it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:
*ptooie.* "that all you got?"
i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!
but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.
my coach did not.
i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.
"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"
and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said
"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."
which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.
and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.
fine.
but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.
and then he left.
and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."
but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.
and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.
he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.
and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.
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letoasai · 3 months
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The Youngest Ancient
An idea where the JL has gotten word from Green Lantern that a planet has been destroyed. That threat is headed for Earth. 
We could blame it on Darkseid despite the fact that i don’t actually know if that’s within his power set. Bad guy of your choice. Keeping it vague works too. 
Danny finding out that one of his planets is gone and he’s not having it. 
~~
They were short on time. Monumentally short on time. Usually everyone would look to Batman in a situation like this. It wasn’t like his numerous contingency plans were a secret. The problem was time and an overall lack of information about the coming threat. All that was clear was the fact that Earth was in danger. 
Not even a normal, run of the mill danger, but the planet bleeding out of existence kind of danger. Supposedly it could happen so fast that the citizens of Earth wouldn’t even know it had happened. 
“There’s always begging an Ancient for help.” Constantine muttered, lighting another cigarette. As many members of the League as possible had gathered but brainstorming could only get them so far. 
Multiple gazes snapped to him but it was Wonder Woman who spoke first. “You think petitioning the gods would be a wise course of action?” 
“Could be the only course of action.” Flash muttered though no one looked happy about it. 
“Nah, it’s a much crazier idea than that.” Constantine said flatly. “We’re not talking about any of those old hats we’re used to dealing with. I mean an Ancient. Their powers are next level stuff. Above the gods on the totem pole, if you will.” 
Batman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to bring in a complete unknown.” 
“I want the planet to fucking be in the same spot tomorrow, mate.” Constantine snapped back. They were out of time but he evidently had more practice at being reckless then the rest of the League. “Heard tales of a new baby Ancient. A likable kid that has many of the heavy hitters doting on `em. Word is the baby Ancient is rather agreeable. Makes deals. Likes to explore. That kind of thing.” 
“Baby Ancient.” Superman repeated, clearly hearing the oxymoron in that title. “How does that work?”
“Well they gotta come from somewhere, don’t they?” Constantine shrugged. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to ask. 
“I’ve heard the same rumors.” Zatanna heaved a sigh, adding credence to Constantine’s claims. “Even if they can’t do anything themself, they might have enough pull with one of the other Ancients that can.” 
Flash clucked his tongue. “We literally have everything to lose if we don’t do something. If no one else has any other ideas then we need to give it a shot.” 
“How long do you need to prepare?” Batman asked, his frown obvious. He never fully liked ideas that he didn’t have a hand in.
Constantine sat up straighter, taking a pull from his cigarette and already looking exhausted. “Gimme an hour.” 
“I’ll help.” Zatanna said, already standing. 
“Forty minutes then.” 
~
The light of the summoning circle was hard to look at. It was like a mini supernova right in front of them. The colors would have been amazing to look at if anyone could have opened their eyes to see it. 
When it dimmed, leaving only a toxic looking green glow around the circle, a young boy floated in the center. His hair was white and flowed even in the tightly air controlled Watch tower. The freckles across his face seemed to glow just like his green eyes. 
He was cute, and couldn't have been more than fifteen. He wore a skintight black suit, calf high white boots, and had a strange looking thermos hanging off his belt. So this was a baby Ancient. He looked utterly perplexed. 
“Um…” He blinked, taking in every member of the Justice League slowly.
“Welcome to the Justice League Watch Tower.” Wonder Woman said, ever the diplomat. “We apologize for summoning you on such short notice.” 
“Oh. Okay.” He was still blinking owlishly before his eyes locked onto one of the windows that currently had a vast view of space. The boy all but purred at the sight. “You can call me Phantom. What do you want?” 
“You’re the new Ancient?” Constantine asked without as much tacked.
Phantom sighed, shifting to sit even as he floated. “So they tell me. I didn’t know there was going to be a superhero test.” 
“We summoned you to request assistance if you are able to give it.” Batman said, taking over. “A threat is coming to destroy the Earth and we don’t have much time. Is there something in particular you would want in payment?” 
“Besides souls.” Constantine muttered which subtly alarmed everyone within earshot. 
“Destroy…Earth?” Phantom repeated slowly, head tilting. It was slowly occurring to everyone that maybe a baby Ancient really was too young to deal with something like this. “Why?”
Green Lantern sighed, arms crossed. “I’m likely the cause. Earth is the home base for Lanterns in this sector. The previous planet destroyed was also a home base.” 
Phantom’s eyes jerked up, his full attention on Green Lantern. “Previous planet destroyed? Where?” He paused, “And when? I have been feeling a little off.” 
No one knew quite what to make of the strange comment, but Lantern continued anyway. “A planet in the neighboring sector, 2813. It has been eight days, and before long, that threat will be here.” 
“Is it possible you know of a way to prevent the destruction of Earth?” Wonder Woman asked, but Phantom seemed distracted. 
He removed his gloves and was looking at the back of his hands. When that didn’t seem to tell him what he wanted, he tugged on his sleeve, making the fabric go invisible in small sections so he could easily look at his skin beneath it without the cumbersome task of rolling his sleeves up. 
He was covered in glowing freckles, just like on his face, but one by one the League members took notice of the way they moved. Phantom would twist his arm one way and then another and each set of freckles would be replaced by a completely new set of glowing little spots. When that didn’t show him what he wanted, he kept looking, checking both arms first before moving down his chest slowly. 
The League could do nothing but watch the strangeness before them as their follow up questions went ignored. 
When he got to a spot under his ribs, Phantom screeched. “It’s gone!” 
“Phantom…?” 
Phantom looked out the Watch Tower window, his face morphing into one of fury. His eyes shined brightly and whatever he was looking for, he clearly found. 
“T̢̜̞̮ͭ̓ͫͦh̨̻̼͓͓̜ͭ̈͆ȃ̴̩ͅtͯ̚͏͇̮̖̙ ̡̭͎̝̟͇͙̏ͣ̑͛m̵̭͉͈̳̟͎͈̲̋̋o͈̮̫͓̪͔͐͠t͉̬̉͒̈́ͪ͠h͉̠̭͓̞͎̺͓ͥͥ͘e̅͗̔̿҉̞̪̺̮̗̜r͙̪̼͈̐̉͞ ̫̥̳̿̾͒͑͞f͔̟͈͍ͯ̊̏́ù̶̯̬̫͈͕c̲ͣ̓̿͠ͅk̦̘̖̭͕͉̹̥̈̍̈́ͤ͘e͚̬͗͡ͅr̛̤̩̺͂̃̇̉ͅ.”
To say the Justice League was surprised by the shift in the boys tone was an understatement. 
“Yeah, i’ll stop your threat.” Phantom growled, easily leaving the summoning circle. He shifted right through the wall and directly into space without a care. 
Silence filled the room, no one entirely sure what they’d done by summoning a baby Ancient. “So that happened.” Flash commented. “Are we still planning for doomsday?” 
“We’ll see…” Constantine muttered. “Though if that kid gets hurt, might be bad for the universe.” 
“Not what we wanted to hear, John.” Wonder Woman said, looking out the window. Nothing looked unusual to her. 
~
In an hour's time, Phantom returned just as distracted as he’d been when he’d left. He remained seated in the air as he held what looked like a cracked marble in his hands. It was surrounded by a mist, and inside sparked with many different colors. 
Phantom seemed to be sealing the crack, a smile on his face. 
Batman was the one to approach, and if he was anxious it was hard to tell. “Phantom.” He greeted cautiously. “You’re back.”
“Uh huh.” Phantom said, eyes glittering happily at the marble. “I got rid of your problem. Earth is safe.” 
“Got…rid of.” Batman repeated slowly, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. 
“So we’re good?” Flash asked. “Good work, kid.” 
“Yeah, he deserved it.” Phantom said, finally cradling the smooth marble in his palm. 
Constantine was still smoking, but his eyes were narrowed. “Do i wanna know what you’re doin’?”
Phantom beamed. “I got my planet back! It was a little broken but i fixed it.” 
“Your planet?” Green Lantern repeated, adrenaline hitting him. “The destroyed planet!?” 
“Yep.” Phantom looked pleased with himself. “Now i just gotta set it back in time eight days to get everyone back on track and i can put it back where it belongs.” 
“Put it…back.” Batman seemed to have trouble with the skill set of one teenager.” 
It was Superman who slid closer with a disarmingly charming smile. “May i ask what kind of Ancient you are. I admit i don’t know much about them.” 
Phantom perked up. “I’m the Ancient of Space!” He ignored Constantine’s groan from across the room. “I’m really glad you guys called me about this! It would have taken me a while to find a planet destroyed out of the natural timeline.” 
“And you have time abilities?” Wonder Woman asked softly. Time and Space was a heady combination. 
“Nope! But Clockwork does.” Phantom said. “He’ll do it for me.” 
“Will he?” The Flash stared. 
Phantom didn’t seem to notice the incredulous looks. As far as he was concerned, everyone was simply taking his explanations in stride. Tilting his head back his eyes shimmered with power. “Clockwork!” he called, voice reverberating oddly. No one missed Zatanna paling or Constantine cursing. No one had time to ask either before a tear appeared just to the right of Phantom. It split the very air apart in a green haze before a portal opened and a man floated out. Wrapped in a purple cloak, the man floated like Phantom did but had a ghostly tail instead of legs and off putting red eyes. 
He had a staff donned with clock gears and mechanisms that ticked in an unsettling way. No one needed an explanation, which was good because Constantine wasn’t going to give one. 
This was the Ancient of Time. They had two Ancients in the Watch Tower. 
Phantom didn’t seem bothered and held out his marble with a smile. “Fix!” he asked cheerfully. 
Clockwork turned from what appeared to be an adult man to an elderly man in the blink of an eye. ���You know time is sensitive, Phantom. Not everything can be changed on a whim." 
Phantom’s smile lessened. He looked back and forth from Clockwork to the marble and back to Clockwork again. “I’ll cry. Swear to the Ancients, i’ll start crying.” 
The elderly Clockwork shifted back into the form of a young man. “Do you think tears will alter the timeline?” 
Batman smiled, almost. He knew a mischievous teen trying to get his way when he saw one. That theory proved correct when Phantom honestly did begin to sniffle, eyes becoming damp. 
“An asshole destroyed a piece of me.” Phantom said, lips wobbling. “I felt it. I didn’t feel good.” 
Clockwork’s form shifted again, this time into the form of a young child. He heaved a sigh, “If you start weeping you’ll summon the others.” 
Phantom nearly whimpered, holding out the marble still. Every member of the Justice League watched with bated breath. 
Clockwork crossed his arms. “How far back do you want it?” 
“Yay!” Phantom beamed immediately, impressing upon how young he must have been. “Eight days! Actually, maybe nine. That might be better for them. I’m sure the…Green Lantern…people… can explain that they lost little more than a week in order to be brought back. That’ll be fine, right?” 
Green Lantern was too stunned by the question to answer but it was fine since it seemed to be rhetorical coming from the young Ancient. 
Clockwork turned back into an adult and held his staff out over the marble Phantom held. There was no discernible change other than the hands on the staff’s clock face moving. Phantom was nearly bouncing in place which was interesting to see considering his feet weren’t on the floor. 
“Thank you, Clockwork!” Phantom said, looking delighted and completely missing the way Clockwork just sighed fondly. 
“Hurry along home before the yeti’s start to look for you.” Clockwork said in a fairly familiar tone. 
“Yes, yes.” Phantom said distractedly, tossing the marble up in the air where it disappeared. He tugged at his black suit right over his ribs and did the same invisibility trick again. He shifted twice until he found the patch of skin that held the group of freckles he wanted. 
No one was close enough to see for themselves, but Phantom crowed happily. “Good! It’s back where it’s supposed to be!” 
“It’s back?” Batman asked, a hint in his voice saying he had a hundred more questions. 
“Yep.” Phantom said. “It’s really annoying to me when someone destroys one of my stars or planets before their natural life cycles have worn out.” 
“Is that a map of the galaxy on your skin?” Wonder Woman asked, charmed by the constellation of freckles across his nose and under his pointed ears. 
“No.” Phantom said. “It’s a map of every universe on my skin. They overlap so sometimes i gotta hunt for the one i want a little.” 
“Every…” Superman sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him. 
“Come, Your Majesty.” Clockwork said, opening a shockingly green portal with his staff. “You’ve had your fun.” 
“Okay, okay.” Phantom mumbled. 
“Majesty?” Zatanna whispered, confusion coloring her tone. 
Phantom whipped back around to look at her with a sheepish grin. “Ah, yeah. I’m the King of the infinite Realm. Let me know if anyone else messes with one of my planets! Bye now.” 
The Ancients departed and Constantine started wheezing. 
“I take it no one knew the baby Ancient was a king?” Flash asked, a very startled silence taking over the Watch Tower. 
~~
I know i originally said that the planet had been destroyed but that somehow turned into it being eaten or absorbed or something so Danny got it back. 
I really just wanted Danny to find a missing planet on his skin and freaking out over it. 
Feel free to take this idea, though i’m sure something like it exists already. ^__^
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pseudowho · 1 month
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Motherhood had altered your 'turn-ons'; not that you lusted after mankind as a whole-- Kento was enough.
His cologne, split with the smooth tang of sweat on work-ripened skin. His hands, alternately gentle and rough, peach-handling or blade-wielding. The authority only the world saw; the authority only you felt.
Dressed-up, dressed-down, undressed, dressing you down, undressing you. Breaking you only to reform you with gold, tied with red thread, whispering you to completion in the dark sacred night.
So (you corrected yourself, as you watched Kento jog after your daughter at the indoor play centre) motherhood had not altered your turn-ons; it had added to them. Stacking high now, you considered the tower of your adoration was just as likely to be stable, as unstable; its endurance or toppling entirely at Kento's mercy.
The arrival at soft-play was a sensory nightmare-- one of many you could tolerate as a mother when you wouldn't have, before.
Obnoxious children's music blared, cut by screams and shouts and cries and calls and whirls and swirls of kids darting and weaving, watched and unwatched, by helicopters or the disinterested. The cocktail was potent, spiked. Your headache started behind your left eye.
Kento saw you. He was unfairly loaded at his own insistence, with change-bag and snack-bag and car keys and your daughter, planking and chattering, a possessed surfboard beneath his arm.
"Sit down-- have a coffee." Kento rumbled, low and slow, unclipping his watch into your cupped hands as you began to argue. "You've had her all week. You need a break."
"You've been at work all week, Kento, you need a break--"
"Don't argue. You know it's not the same. Sit down. Have a coffee."
He lied to you for your benefit; you could feel the bone-deep weariness of him, surely needing a day of sofa-bound naps over a day of childrearing. Alas; parenthood. And he would continue to take bullets for you, even to his own detriment. You knew this. You had planned ahead for this.
As you peered down at your phone, smiling at an eagerly awaited reply, your daughter piped up, bouncing on little toes, her pigtails bouncing too.
"'lide, daddy. Let's go fast. Faster. Race you."
Kento hummed, smiling. "Slide, you mean?"
"I said it. 'lide." Your daughter moved to dart to the towering play area, a flash of lightning into a maelstrom, and you caught her. Kento was distracted, looking into the swarm of other peoples' children, oddly, as he looked at a swarm of Curses. You whispered into your daughters' ear as Kento slipped his boots off.
"Hey, missus, listen."
Your baby girl perked up, sweet and conspiratorial, goofy-teethed and dimple-cheeked, whispering back.
"What is it, mummy?"
"I've got a surprise for daddy. So don't tell him...come here, mummy needs to whisper."
Lips at an ear; tiny hands clasping over a mouth, fizzlepopping with excitement. A long finger against lips; a little finger against lips. A secret pact.
"Are you ready, young lady? I'll get you in three...two..."
Kento reached down for your daughter, his hands clawed, a wolfish grin on his lips. Your daughter knew what it meant; she shrieked with panicked laughter, bolting. The monster formerly known as 'Daddy' dashed after her.
The coffee was shit; you didn't mind, instead hyperfocused on how Kento and your daughter would dip out of sight into the rainbow maze, only to reappear minutes later, with Kento looking more ravaged each time.
On the first loop round, Kento looked unfazed, unruffled, still clipped in his t-shirt and jeans. You simply admired the sultry half-smile he offered you, and the cling of fabric to his thick biceps, before he swept after your daughter again.
On the fifth loop round, flicks of hair escaped over Kento's forehead, the veins on his arms prominent from throwing and tumbling and monstering. He panted, his muscle so much heavier to carry than your birdlike daughter's personal load. Kento's playful growl, running after your giggling daughter, was deeper; huskier. You squirmed, sipping your shit latte.
On the eleventh loop round, a fine sheen of sweat misted Kento's forehead, a flush dashed on high cheekbones. His broad chest heaved, and he stretched his arms back, cracking his neck from side-to-side, with a groan usually heard only when he exerted himself above you, for less wholesome pleasures.
With furrowed brows, Kento prowled the bottom of the slide, and your daughter shrieked, scrabbling to get away from him as he lunged. Your daughter was bicep-curled up to Kento's face, laughing uproariously at his ferocious tummy-raspberries, before being set free, once more, for the hunt. You could not cope, aching, desperately hoping you had the energy left to sweat for him at the end of the day.
By the twenty-first? twenty-third? twenty-fifth? loop round, Kento jogged to a heavy halt, his shoulder blades taut as he bent double, hands braced against his own knees. You heard him panting, cursing under his breath, one long rusty groan. It was all too much-- Kento needed a break. You were unhinged and unsupervised. Surely there had to be some relief--
"Yo, Mrs.Nanamin! Am I late?"
A vision in peach, Yuuji flopped into the chair opposite you, with hands in his pockets and man-spread with a square-jawed, boyish grin. He stood taller than Kento, now, a full-grown man...but still shrunk beneath Kento's chastisement and lectures.
"Right on time, Yuuji. Are you sure you don't mind? It's all a bit..." You looked into the raucous soft-play, searching for words, "...feral."
Yuuji beamed, ruffling his own hair and kicking his shoes off. "Nah. I was gonna go to the gym anyway, but this seems more fun as workouts go."
You called out to your daughter as she reached the bottom of the slide, and Kento looked up, sweating and exhausted. "Baby! Your big brother's here!"
A gasp of thrill from your daughter, and Kento was all but forgotten by her as she pelted towards Yuuji instead, leaping into his arms. She slapped his scrunched cheeks, aggressively overjoyed.
"Big brother-- big brother-- big brother--"
"Yeah yeah, little sister, little sister-- c'mon squirt, I'm gonna getcha! Hey-- Dad--- uh, Nanamin! Gotta go!"
Kento watched his children run away with dewy eyes, his body still thickened by exercise and heavy breaths. You bit your lip as Kento approached, eyes half-lidded as you drank him in. You watched his Adam's apple bob as he gulped back water and gasped, husky with relief.
"God, I love that boy." Kento rumbled.
You melted to see Yuuji reach the bottom of the slide with your daughter on his lap. "Yeah...me too."
"He's saved my life...three times, now."
You laughed, your eyes dipped, tugging Kento to you by the hem of his t-shirt and beckoning him down with one curled finger.
"Think you'll still have some energy later?" You whispered, your breaths mingling with promise.
Kento's eyes narrowed, glimmering, his nose kissing yours. "For that? Always."
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bibliomoth · 24 days
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I don’t blog about sports, but early this morning my favourite athlete Johnny ‘Hockey’ Gaudreau was knocked off his bicycle and killed along with his younger brother the night before their sister’s wedding. He had just turned 31 years old, married his next door neighbour and had a toddler daughter and a 6 month old son (who were planned to be flower girl and ring bearer at the wedding).
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I adored Johnny because he was a such a small streak of lightning in a game full of huge dudes who were regularly a whole foot taller than him. His skills were just fucking phenomenal and he was so exciting to watch. I screamed with joy and cheered him on so loudly I lost my voice on many occasions. He represented his country for International Competitions and is the highest US point scorer.
I could get technical and talk about my favourite goals of his, his stickhandling, dangles, on ice spatial awareness etc but it is all on film for anyone to see, just too much to choose from. Nobody moved like Johnny Hockey.
As a person he was a sweet, kind guy who was universally liked in the sport and beyond. I do not follow celebrities on social media, but on hockey forums there are endless stories of his voracious love of mac and cheese (so much so Kraft put him in a TV ad) and skittles candies that he had a hockey stick covered in them and auctioned for charity.
In interviews he always talked hockey and his family. Whenever asked about new contracts and paycheques he would just shrug and say ‘yeah I bought my dad a boat so we can go fishing’ or ‘I just got a cool new wheelchair lift installed in my holiday home so my cousin can come and spend time with me’, or change the subject and talk about his dog, his wife and kids or The Birds. He was a real gem of a gentleman, modest and always ready to give credit to his team and dad (legendary NJ coach Guy Gaudreau) who motivated Johnny to skate as a toddler by placing skittles candies on the ice for him to fetch.
I’m am so sad for him, his family. This is just a blurb of feels about someone I counted down the days for until I could see them make magic on ice. I wish I could write a good tribute, dammit. Thank you Johnny Hockey.
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