It's actually his best subject. Unfortunately, this does not mean that Math likes to listen to him when it really should.
The risks he takes are calculated, not that it always matters. If he's the only solution to the problem, he's going to make it happen.
This, it seems, is going to be another addition to his list of miscalculations. It wouldn't be a miscalculation if the Math would just agree with him and his conclusions. But it seems as though Math has abandoned him once again. The last time he was left this thoroughly in the dust by his beloved Math, it became known as "The Accident" by his friends. Summing the whole event as such always felt a little disingenuous, but this was shaping up to be probably worse.
It started in his right pinkie finger and toe, losing feeling. For a little bit there, in the first week, he thought it might be some lingering effects from nerve damage. When it started getting worse, Danny started taking notes, any measurements he could take, even without full feeling, he could move almost normally. Diligence and careful attention kept him from collapsing with every other step he took.
Danny's DNA was Destabilizing.
Using or not using his ghost form didn't seem to have any affect on the speed at which he was falling apart.
Fucking shitting fuck. Fucking Fruitloops with their fucking bastard "New and Improved" test weapons.
Vlad and Luthor would pay for this.
Information packets on all their up and coming projects were already being leaked, courtesy of a Foley and Oracle team-up that would scare the living hell out of anyone with secrets to keep.
He was rapidly crossing the mid-point of his progression, no matter what he did. Dejecto did nothing, and none of the ghostly healing products provided by Frostbite or the Leagues medical team were helping either.
If anyone could come up with a last-minute save, it was Batman. But he was only human, and Danny couldn't hold out hope, not right now. Not when he was busy cursing every rich asshole who didn't care about the lives they affected. Not when his breaths were starting to sound like he was underwater. Not when he lifted his right arm a few minutes ago and his hand stayed where it was and turned into green toothpaste before evaporating.
Hissing and cursing didn't help, but it didn't hurt, and it was a little too cathartic to give up.
Oh well.
Danny sighed deeply from his cushioned chair, the sound more liquid than air.
One last chance.
One last bastion.
If there was anything that could bring him back, it'd have to be this. He'd severed the connections to his brain before it started to melt inside his skull, so hopefully, he'd still have his memories when he came back.
If he came back.
His left hand, the one with the pitted scar running through his palm, the last limb he still had, rose to his chest and rummaged around inside for a second until he found it. His rapidly numbing fingers closed around the swirling orb that was Him. Him in every way. It stored the data that made Him. His genetic sequence, every bit of data that would show on any test that can be run, and then some.
Glowing blue, the orb was just barely small enough to fit in his hand anymore. It used to be smaller when he was still just a baby ghost with a baby core. He's grown a lot since then.
If he has any hope left, it's that he'll come back at all. Sure, the heroes don't Need Him need him. He's not Essential, not like Batman or Superman, or Wonder Woman.
Looking it over, he bubbled another sigh.
Privacy, hell. He almost wished someone was still here, if only so he could thank them for letting him be a part of the team, even if it was only for a few years.
Oh, there goes his other hand. Goody goody fucking gumdrops. There goes his core. Bouncing across the floor, like a goddamn glowing bowling ball.
It doesn't sound like he expected, honestly. He was expecting a metal ringing from the floor, and maybe the sound of ice or even stone. But it ever so quietly tinks, like the quietest tapping of wine glasses or champagne flutes.
With his last thoughts, he pulls out his League comm with a touch of telekinesis and sends out a message for J'onn or John Constantine. Someone with either telekinesis or magic who could pick up his Core without directly touching it. It was weird enough when he touched it himself, he didn't want anyone else touching Him with their hands, gloves or no.
Closing his eyes, he could feel himself melting into his seat.
Do I think qrow and ozpin were dating? No. But could I absolutely see qrow drunkingly crawling into ozpins lap once? Yes. Can I see qrow kissing ozpin (once) and then ozpin bursting into tears because gods this is his friend and he cant? He CANT qrow cannot consent to the risks (if Salem found out gods) and he cant tell him. He CANT. Also yes.
Nona did not know where the monster kept her fawns, they wailed seemingly from all directions in terrified dinmael while she sat in comfort—if not for the nudity. A bed fit for the monster's size, not her own, yet it held her weight well...cradling her in softness. Wrists unbound, snout unwrapped, she remained helplessly still and silent.
Its words alone her cage.
One it returned to with glee too bright in the reds of its eyes, the click and whir of its gears, ducking into a room clearly made for it the thing made an entrance worth remembering. An entrance she could not look away from. Eyes locked even as it fluttered to sit beside her, to caress her wet cheek and grin ever wide for the growl she managed.
Its voice, its terrible voice, cavernous yet soft, wretched yet tender sang next, "Such a feast you brought me, little bite with delusions of being a predator." Laying down, all that mass too great to make her chest a pillow it snuggled beside her, bark-white forehead nuzzling as a fawn might. "For cycles your young will feed me." Sitting up it traced her lips with the very tip of a massive needled finger and pouted, "But you...I doubt you will last the light."
Sound, in her chest, in her throat begged release and the monster gave it to her. With a whisper she could not hear it gave her voice, and she used it to beg, "I can last hundreds for you, thousands if you need. But please-"
"Let the fawns go?" It laughed too quiet for the thickness of its chest, the size of its neck, and set the blue-black horror of its tongue along the bare fur of her stomach. Up and up it licked, tip alone enough to cover her, to soak her in milky drool. "Mm-mm, little bite," it cooed after tasting all of her. "Delicious morsel as you assuredly are... they will be more, given time to ripen." Snuggling its too large face again beside her, it sighed, eyes closed and gears quiet. "And with all you dragged along I have plenty to feed them, seeds even to plant. My mire may not seem the setting for a luscious garden...but I promise you life can flourish here as well as anywhere. You, however--"
The teeth glancing her thigh were twitched for, all of her desperate to flee, but she bit futility away and promised, "Can be all you need. Light after light. Take whatever you desire from this flesh, these bones but let them go."
"Mm, no," it said too smooth, needle tracing hips while more twirled her tail between them. "Your mind speaks of him, you know, drips with him." Too close its face, eyes staining her gray fur red as it loomed over her sudden and wide, needles yet teasing, seeking more as one slipped between impossibly still thighs. "You yearn as I for his touch."
She could do no more than grunt for it, voice again locked in her chest.
While the monster purred too sweet, "You had my Nectar, so close and intimate once, if not as much as you ached...and so I will have you. Until no scrap of you remains."
Deeper the needle inside her, barely more than the tip of its foul finger and it stabbed as a sword, her body betraying her with relaxing muscles and slick welcome for another.
The monster swooned for it, breath too sweet and cool for its actions, its words as it pressed deeper, thrusting rhythmic and slow, eyes fluttering for every moan she couldn't help. "Your second I tear apart after, she who caged my sister... a fine brick in my walls she will be." Its tongue returned to lap her tears, needles swifter, rougher inside her, eliciting sharp little screams the monster gasped for. "But you, you I ache to devour, to eat and eat of every agonized moan, every delectably fought drop of bliss and when I have tasted all you are, hollowed out all you were...I will stitch you into my finest creation, that I might have you again, and again..." Faster its needles as others gripped her jaw too gently, forcing her mouth to accept its tongue after it moaned, "And again."
--
->Children of Mar (Weald and Wen || Wake and Glaer) Taglist<-
[Flashback to two weeks post Millefiore, for context]
As is customary for the tight-knit inner circle of the Vongola, just two weeks after the fall of Millefiore, when it was all truly announced to be over and done with, they all had a little get-together. As always there were some party decorations, good food, drinks and some gift-exchanging if anyone happened to be in that kind of mood.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Mukuro ended up swamped with the most gifts this time. Understandable, given the fact that he just now recovered enough to be awake for longer than a handful of minutes at a time. He looked very awkward, sitting surrounded by wrapped, stacked late Birthday and Christmas presents, but they could all tell that he was incredibly flattered. His chuckle sounded much less creepy when he was blushing bashfully...
It started getting kind of noisy when Mukuro got to unpacking Lambo's many handmade gifts, so it's only natural that Tsuna pulled Kyoya to the couch to take a break from the crowding. They could all tell Kyoya was nearing the end of his patience, but his nerves seemed to visibly settle when he got permission to lay down on Tsuna's lap.
And it was really looking like it'd be a nice, peaceful evening actually. Unfortunately, Tsuna just had to notice the way Kyoya was looking at the purple pouch Kyoko gifted him earlier. "You look a bit ticked off. Do you not like the pouch..?"
And Kyoya was indeed frowning, shooting Tsuna a surprisingly heated glare for his assumption. Not yet at levels of pulling out his tonfa, but the way he's gesturing... He was pretty agitated. "What-? No. Keeping rings in my pockets has been a hassel. The pouch is nice. Good quality, sweet gesture. That's not the point."
Tsuna would always have the habit of shrinking a tiny bit, especially when Kyoya happens to be close to him and visibly unhappy, but back then his voice came out steady and calm. Hyper intuition, maybe? "What's the issue?"
Kyoya huffed and frowned again, holding the pouch up infront of himself and Tsuna, just to admire it, maybe. "I just wish I had some rings to put in it?"
The silence that followed could've been cut with a butter knife. And Kyoya was the one to break it, giving them all that certain look. Like he knew he'd gotten himself in trouble, but was staunchly refusing to accept it. "What."
Ryohei spoke up first, as always the first to confront Kyoya head-on. They make a wonderful team like that. "Why don't you have rings."
Kyoya somehow found the audacity to roll his eyes at them, giving them a very unimpressed look. But he was already softening a little bit. Because he loves them and a small part of him is working overtime trying to understand them a little bit. "Cause Mini-me took them all?"
Tsuna took a deep, deep breathe, linking his hands together slowly and full on entering Boss mode. His voice is very calm, warm and rich. Benevolent and kind, but shrouded in steel. "You've... Been fighting ring-less. For two weeks. And you didn't tell me?"
The look that flashed over Kyoya's face for a split second might be described as chastised by someone that doesn't know him, but it crumbled immediately and he crossed his arms. He was still refusing to budge from Tsuna's lap. Because he's a weirdo. "It's not your business-"
Tsuna's anger has always had the tendency to be explosive, but his obvious concern and care always softens the impact when it's one of them he's angry at. Kyoya still twitches as if he'd been struck, mostly because of the sudden increase in volume. "You went on a mission with Varia last week! That's not okay-"
"Tsuna-!"
The one that cut Tsuna's rant short was... Hayato. In no way did Hayato do so fearlessly mind you, the strain in his voice was obvious. He was gesturing a firm no as well and for a second they were all confused.
That second was all it took for them to remember that, out of all of them, Hayato is the only one truly familiar with the signs Kyoya shows when he feels he is being underestimated.
That second was all it took for Kyoya's patience to snap clean in two and for Tsuna to end up with a tonfa shoved against his Adam's apple.
The instant rage rolling off of both of them, Kyoya as well as Tsuna, was near suffocating. Kyoya's voice was dripping with sickly sweet venom. "Must I remind you that even ringless I vastly outmatch you."
Tsuna's voice was still shrouded in steel and his eyes narrowed dangerously. His words left no room for arguments, but by God would Kyoya argue anyways. For weeks at a time if he so chooses. "You'll be wearing the Cloud Mare Ring, starting today."
Kyoya just barely twitched, unconsciously clarifying that those words somehow hurt him deeply and doubt crossed Tsuna's face. But it was too late. One of Kyoya's many, confusing sensibilities was encroached upon too much and his growl came out cloudy and furious. "I'll beat you to death."
Of course, the pleasant party promptly dissolved into a brawl. Every man against one very offended Hibari Kyoya.
