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AI art 'Farewell, my friend 🪦' with user description 'Before I start with the story, I feel like I have to get this important notice out of the way first:
⚠️ This post does not mean anyone has died in real life. It's just for funsies! ⚠️
Also, I'm sorry for using (mostly) unrelated clickbait as the thumbnail! 🙇‍♂️

— Story time —

The weather couldn’t have been more fitting.
Dark clouds blanketed the sky as rain poured down in relentless sheets, turning the cemetery paths into slick rivers of mud.
Though it was midday, the world felt trapped in cold, grim twilight.

A group dressed in black gathered around a modest tombstone.
Some leaned on one another for comfort, while others stood in rigid silence.
The heavy rain nearly drowned out the soft whimpers of a pregnant young woman wearing a black veil.
Even a few higher beings had come to mourn the loss of BetterWaifu’s greatest close-up artist.

They were saying goodbye to BlackHairedStudent.

His death was an unfortunate accident during the latest police raid on his basement—his stuffing had to be collected from throughout the entire building’s air ducts.

One lonely figure watched from afar beneath an old oak, disappointment clear on her face.
“Stupid Black,” she muttered.
“You were supposed to bring me ultimate despair.
I was a fool to think you could succeed where so many others failed.”
She turned and disappeared into the shadows.

The group lingered until a blinding flash lit up the sky, followed by roaring thunder.
A muffled sound came from the grave.
Suddenly a blue flame erupted from the soil, growing into wild cackling laughter.
Black’s ghost emerged from the flames, floating above his tombstone.

“Who gave you permission to throw such a boring funeral for me?!” he boomed with a wide grin.
“Was it you, my sweet little Nagatoro?”
She stared back in shock.
“If my funeral is going to be made into a post, it should at least feature panty shots!”
He snapped his ghostly paws.
A strong wind tore through the cemetery.
The centipede girl tried to hold her dress down in vain as it flew up.
Nagatoro didn’t even resist—the wind revealed she wore nothing underneath, exposing her pregnant belly and bare pussy.

Black’s expression softened.
“Y-you remembered our promise?”
“Of course, you stupid bear!” A tearful smile broke through her sorrow.
“I just never thought I’d have to honor it at your funeral.
How could you leave me after promising so much, you dummy?”
Black looked taken aback, then furious as his eyes landed on Terror2.
“You!! This is all your fault! You wrote me into this awkward position and how dare you use my precious Sakura as clickbait for your stupid post!”

His ghostly form lunged forward and latched onto his back.
“Feel the wrath of the dead, you backstabbing bastard!”
Blue flames erupted around them.
“Wait—what’s happening?” Black yelped.
“This power… it’s coming from your crown?! Stop! I’m in contr—”

Silence.

When I opened my eyes, I floated in an endless void.
No light, no sound—yet I could see my own body clearly.
A spotlight clicked on ahead.
Black sat there with his back turned.
“I never meant for any of this to happen,” he said quietly.
“I only wanted to create cute and sexy images of my favorite anime girls.”
He stood and turned toward me, tears streaming down his face.
“For a while everything was perfect.
I’d invite girls, pay them well, film scenes, and tease them a little.
But then I discovered the Close-up Bubble.”
A deep red glowing orb appeared in his hands, a tiny heart pulsing inside.
"It made those perfect shots effortless, but the power grew too strong.
It clouded my judgment.
I broke the rules despite the frogman’s warnings.
You know how it ended.”

His story left a lump in my throat.
“Don’t be too sad,” Black said with a weak smile.
“It was my own choice.
To prove it I’m passing the Close-up Bubble onto you now.
Be better than I was.
Don’t let it consume you.”

He pushed the bubble forward.
Immense power surged through me as it touched my chest, filling my mind with vivid close-up visions.
“Hahaha… that takes me back.”
Wings sprouted from his shoulders and he started to rise.

As I felt our time grew short, I finally managed to speak.
“Thank you for everything, Black!
I’ll never forget your sacrifices.
I promise to keep this power in check!”

“Don’t think of this as goodbye, my friend.
I’ll be watching from above—keep everyone entertained!
Please tell Nagatoro I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.
Watch over her for me. She cared more than she let on.
Oh, and if you ever meet the frogman, tell him I'm sorry as well.
I'm very grateful to him for giving me a final chance."

He faded into the light as my consciousness slipped away.

“…you guys! I think he’s waking up!”
I opened my eyes to Ankha’s tear-streaked face hovering above mine.
She burst into fresh tears of relief.
“Please never scare us like that again!!”

— The End —

@blackhairedstudent, you will forever remain in our hearts. ❤️

(Also, thank you @gildenstein for letting me use Akiko even though I didn't ask. 😅)'

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Farewell, my friend 🪦

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AI art 'Golden Week 💛' with user description 'Golden Week means golden bikinis.'

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Golden Week 💛

AI art 'Killing Time' with user description 'So… um, you… you wanna… 💕~'

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AI art "[REPOST/REVAMP] - Office Lady after work party continue"

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AI art 'The Forbidden Embrace of the Ideal Hilda and Zekrom[PART4]' with user description 'In the following weeks, their relationship deepened into something richer and more intimate. Days fell into a warm routine: Hilda taught the clumsy but eager Zekrom to cook breakfast with mountain berries and wild eggs, leading to shared laughter. Afternoons were spent exploring hidden waterfalls, ancient caves, and scenic views, exchanging stories and playful human games.
Evenings by the fireplace grew tender and vulnerable, filled with heartfelt confessions, hand-holding, and quiet closeness. At night, their touches became bolder and more confident — long, passionate kisses, gentle caresses tracing each other’s bodies — yet they always stopped before crossing the final line, letting desire build slowly.
Their bond evolved from friendship into a profound, unshakable love built on mutual respect, emotional intimacy, and contained passion. Zekrom began calling her “my spark” with newfound softness, while Hilda felt stronger, more alive, and truly understood in his arms.'

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The Forbidden Embrace of the Ideal Hilda and Zekrom[PART4]

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