#i need to figure out a last name for her too

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER TEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @patscorner @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l

warnings angst (?), homophobia/homophobic slur, sexual innuendos, sexual content.

kalena speakss 🪽! so here’s the ACTUAL chapter ten, i accidentally posted a different version last night so if you saw that just completely disregard it lmao

July 2025 — Crypto.com Arena, Los Angeles, California 

“‘Preciate you comin’ out, man.” I nod, my hand giving a firm dap to Julian.

Yeah, the Julian who’s girlfriend I seem to be helplessly obsessed with.

We had just beat the Fever at home in a blow out on the second night of a back-to-back. My body is aching, and as soon as I left the locker room, I was ready to push through those metal doors and go home. Maybe stop for some dinner too. 

Until I heard it. The voice that has replayed in my head rather than in my ears for the last week and a half. That slight southern drawl with the occasional upbeat ending. It’s perfect, and I didn't realize how bad I’d missed it until now.

I meant it when I thought I needed a break. Maraye was running laps in my head, like a marathon. She’s all I seem to be surrounded by. But there’s so many issues, and Nika was right: I don’t need to be getting hurt again.

So I stepped back, wanting to figure out what I really did want. 

Now I know that I want her in my bed, hands in my hair, moans of my name leaving her mouth. More importantly, though, I want her to be mine. So damn badly. I wanted to grow with her, watch her succeed up close, to do all the things with her that come with a relationship. 

That shit was fucking terrifying. I can't remember the last time I let a girl get this close to me. To learn me in the way Maraye has been able to. Or even being able to learn her in the way that I have.

So when she stands there, next to Julian in her curve hugging jeans and a cropped shirt with my name and number, her eyes looking everywhere but at myself, I know that something is off.

“Congrats All-star.” She says to me, eyes looking at me but not really. She darts everywhere but at my eyes, which normally are her main attraction.

The All-star list dropped at halftime, Rickea and Dearica making the list as well. A smile spreads onto my face and I finally drop my hand from Julian’s. “Thanks, angel.” It slips. I shouldn’t have said it, not here in front of him. I knew I shouldn’t.

It was so natural, falling from my tongue like butter. 

I see his eyebrows furrow, looking down at his girlfriend as if she would stop me from calling her that again. 

“You comin’ to Indy?”

“I was thinking about it. Yeah.” Raye answers and it’s the first time throughout this awkward exchange that I actually see those eyes. Wide, doe, eyes that I know I could happily spend the rest of my life just looking at. “Uh, we. We were thinking about going.” She corrects when Julian darts his head to her.

I nod, wiping the palms of my hands on the side of my jeans. 

“I should probably head out, Ion wanna keep y’all too long.” I force out through the tension. I don’t want to leave. Because I know that as soon as I do, I’m going to force myself into more dry texts and ignore her calls and keep myself away from looking at that damn perfect face. 

“You sure?” Julian questions me. His tone is skeptical, like he knows something that I don’t. Or that he knows something that he shouldn’t.

“Yeah, I got some places to be at too.” I hum, pulling my phone out to look at the time. It’s not late, barely even 10 o’clock, but that slight movement is enough to make them both think I have other plans.

Maraye pushes her curls from her face, the bright white hallway lights make her gold septum glisten in her nose. “I’ll see you around then?” She asks, taking a step closer to me and we hug.

The only difference is this hug isn’t what I’m used to. It isn’t the hug where her arms wrap around my neck, mine feel on the swell of her ass, and I can smell every bit of the scent she chose to wear. That would be too risky.

So instead she holds me by my side, my arm cautiously around her shoulder while her palm presses into my back. It’s difficult for me to keep my composure because deep down I know that I should be able to hug her however I damn well please. 

And I can’t.

All because of him. It’s always him.

—

The hum of the engine is all that fills the car, along with the occasional voice of whatever rapper Julian has playing at minimal volume while I drive. 

It’s been like this for a minute. Just the two of us sitting quietly, my finger tips occasionally tapping against the steering wheel while he stares out the window. I’m supposed to be taking us to his place, we’d eat some dinner and maybe watch a movie.

“So, you and Paige, huh?” He asks, his voice so monotonous.

My hands start to sweat and nearly slip down the wheel. “What?”

He turns his head towards me and though my eyes are glued to the road ahead, I can feel the way his dark eyes are burning holes into my skin. 

“You and her. Y’all got something goin’ on? She callin’ you angel and you don’t do nothin’ about it?” His voice casually picks up, going from nonchalant to angry in a matter of seconds. I briefly look at him, and even through the darkness of the night I can see his light skin slowly build in a red tint.

“Paige and I are friends, Ju.” I breathe out. I know that’s true, even though it’s also a lie. Paige and I stopped being just friends the second I kissed her on my couch.

“Then why the hell is it that you been hanging out with her so much, but the second I’m around y’all wanna be all awkward and you wanna look at the floor?”

It’s my fault for thinking that he wouldn’t be able to pick up on our awkward exchanges, because the tension was very noticeable. It was my first time seeing her since that night in the studio. She’s been avoidant lately, and honestly I couldn’t even blame her.

She was over it. And I guess I am too. 

Yet, here I stand, lying to Julian once again and letting him think nothing is wrong. Keeping him at arm's reach when I should really be letting him go.

“I’m sick of fighting, Julian.” I told him. That’s also true. I am so damn exhausted from all the back and forth yelling, but right now I just really don’t want to have this specific conversation. 

“Answer my fucking question, Raye. Are you fucking her?” He yells, never taking his glance off the side of my face.

“What, no!” I look over at him again, my hands shaking while I grip the wheel. “Quit being so insecure! Just because I got good people in my life, doesn’t mean I’m fucking them. I’m with you.”

I hate this. This lying and manipulation. I fucking hate it because this isn’t who I am. I’m not an asshole. I’m not a cheater. Then here I am, doing everything I write about in my songs, hurting him just to protect my own image.

“Insecure? You think I’m jealous of that fucking fag? Like she can give you anything that I do.” He scoffs. His words hit my ears and as I process them, they taste bitter. Every gear in my head starts turning and I start to get angry. Not at what he said, but how he speaks about her. I waste no breath in defending her.

“Watch how the fuck you talk about her, Ju.”

We approached his apartment complex.

“Why you defending her?”

“Why are you calling her out her name?” I yell back.

He’s silent. We stop at a light and I turn my whole head to make eye contact with him. “Should’ve never that you get close to that fuckin’ dyke. You wanna fuck around with her, go do that shit then.”

I reach for the panel on my door, pressing the unlock button. The click echos through the car. “Get out.”

He looks at me surprised, as if he didn’t expect me to say that to him. “Raye.”

“No. You wanna talk to me crazy, you wanna talk about Paige crazy. So get the fuck out.” I reason. “Your place is right there. Walk. Get the fuck out of my car, Julian.”

He scoffs, slumping back against the seat. “Man, you crazy.”

“Get out of my car. You think I’m fuckin’ joking?” I laugh completely irritated. I reach for his phone, taking it off aux and throwing it into his lap. I look at him expectantly.

Julian huffs, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the passenger door. He hops out, looking at me with squinted eyes. “So you—”

“Close my door.” I cut him off, no longer looking back at him, but the green light that is blaring at me to keep driving.

He huffs, slamming the door and I speed off as soon as he does so.

I sit with my own thoughts. So much running through my head, but it all goes back to her. And suddenly I don’t care about the lying or the distance. I just want to talk to her. To talk to Paige.

I pull off into a nearby gas station, pulling my phone out of my purse.

can we talk?

It isn’t even a few seconds before the gray text bubbles pop up on my screen. Then they disappear and I groan.

Until they pop up again, this time fast and insistent.

Yeah we should

Come over?

I know better. Me and Paige don’t have a great track record of keeping our hands to ourselves when we’re alone. So I should text back that we should meet somewhere else.

That’s until she texts me again: Please?

send your addy

And she does.

—

My leg bounces from where I sit on a kitchen stool. It’s not in the anxious way, but in the distracting way. My arm is stretched out over the edge of the counter that I lean on. My fingers tug on my bottom lip while I look at her.

Raye’s been here for a few minutes, going on about something Julian has done. I was listening at first, I think he knows and argument being the specific terms that stuck in my head.

She stood in front of me, pulling her curls up into a bun on the top of her head. It makes the hem of that damned cropped shirt ride up on her body and expose gold jewelry on her belly button.

So yes, it’s hard to listen to what she’s saying when she’s practically tempting me right now. But I do listen when she says:

“I dunno. I’m done with all of this shit.”

If I were a dog, my ears would practically be perking up at it. I sit up straight, leaning with my elbows on my knees to get closer. To make sure I heard her correctly.

Throughout this whole encounter with Maraye, she’s only ever told me she was tired or that she was bothered. Not once did she ever tell me she was done, and that makes all the difference.

“You’re done? For real?”

“Yes. I dunno. It’s not that simple, P.”

I let out a scoff. “Yes it is. You aren’t comfortable ‘round him like you are with me. You don’t spend all day with him like you do with me.” I shrug my shoulders, slightly frustrated. I feel like I’ve given Raye enough evidence that I’m better, as cocky as it sounds. But yet here we are. “It’s hella simple. You jus’ don’t wanna admit it.”

“I didn’t come here for you to scold me.”

“So whatcha come here for then, huh?” I ask, standing up from the stool. 

My hair tumbles down my shoulders as I tower over her. Maraye’s eyes trail down my body and the white shirts that clings to each ridge of my body.

“You wanna kiss me? Wan’ me to fuck you? Wanna keep talking about him? What do you want, Raye? ‘Cause I know what I asked you to come here for.”

“And why’d you do that, Paige?” She responds, getting in my face.

I should be bothered and put up yet another defense. Then I’m reminded that she’s already defensive, herself. She’s frustrated from all the arguing that took place the minute I left her and Julian at Crypto. 

She’s mad. And normally I’d justify her anger, but tonight; it’s all our fault. We made a mess, started seeing each other in a way that we shouldn’t have and Julian caught on. He knows.

“Well for one, Ion wanna be a home-wrecker.” I say, throwing my hands up. “You might be over him theoretically and he might be a raging asshole, but I don’t do that shit, Raye.” And I don’t.

Fooling around, seeing multiple girls, I used to do a lot of it. I can admit that. Home-wrecking, however, has never been on my list.

Raye lets out a snort. “Spell theoretically.”

I huff and run my hands through my hair. “You’re so unbelievably annoying.” I respond, stepping away and walking past her to my couch but she tugs my arm.

“Okay, wait.” She laughs. “You’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“Yeah, okay.” I stand in front of her again. This time we’re even closer, her hand wrapped around my wrist. “What do you want me to do?” It’s more of a statement than a question because she knows.

She knows I want her to breakup with him and choose me and then let me fuck her within an inch of her life immediately after. That, I could get behind.

“You wanna hear me say it?”

“Please?” 

Raye’s free hand trails up my arm. She’s so tempting, the words so close to dying on my tongue and not being heard at all. Her voice is so enticing, and she looks up at me through her lashes like I hung the moon.

“I… want you, to make a fucking decision.” My voice doesn’t waver as I look deep into her eyes. “You can choose whoever you want, but I can’t keep doin’ this. You choose.”

This is the closest I’m going to get to fighting her off. I don’t push her arm off of me or tell her to back up. This is the closest I’ll get, because I simply can’t get enough of her.

“Okay.” Maraye nods, clutching onto my bicep.

“Okay? That’s it? You not gonna yell at me for making you choose?”

She smiles and shakes her head. The bun on her head shakes a little, and it makes me smile too. “I’ll choose. You gotta give me some time tho’. Few days maybe?”

It seems pretty reasonable to me, though I’d rather she break up with him right this minute over the phone, that would be just a bit crazy.

“We got a road trip. I’ll be gone all week, that work?”

“You’re really serious about this, huh?”

“I just need to know. You pick him, fine.” I shrug. “But if you pick me, even better.”

She grins. “It’s giving Meredith Grey.”

Now I push her off me, listening to the way her laugh fills my ears and bounces off the walls. She stumbles back a tad before catching me on the couch. My back rests against it while Maraye stands in front of me, the spot between my legs becoming designated for her.

“C’mon. It was funny!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m a sexy idiot.”

I hum, rolling my eyes.

It was things like this I missed. The laughter, the jokes, the comfort. Sure she was stunning, and the flirting and kisses were otherworldly, but this topped it. These moments with Maraye that were so hard to come by.

I like the way she looks when she’s looking down at me. It’s intimidating, but still so damn hot.

“A very sexy one.” I finally respond, sitting up more so she can see me better. “These jeans look incredible on you, by the way.”

“Yeah? You wan’ a 360?” Raye jokes.

“I want a 180, angel.” I reply. My hands reach for her hips, playing with the fabric of her belt loops. Raye brushes me off, making a frown spread across my mouth. 

She bows her head to check the dainty watch on her wrist. “It’s late, P. I should get home.”

“You could stay here with me.” My hands drop from her body, instead using my eyes to suggestively try and convince her to stay the night. It’s a joke. Mostly.

“And you were the one who said no more home-wrecking.”

—

My lips are pressed against hers, tongues swirling and spit swapping between the both of us.

It’s urgent. More urgent than any way Paige has ever kissed me before. She doesn’t give me a second to think before her finger is breaking me open and I’m gushing all over her. The stretch is so foreign, and I can’t believe how unbelievably full I feel with just one finger.

“Like this?” She asks after pulling back with a nasty suck of my tongue. I’m nodding at her words tucking my lip between my teeth. 

“Mmph yes. Yes.” A whimper rumbles from my mouth. I clutch into her shoulder, tossing my head back until it hits the pillow under me. 

My legs start closing in on themselves when she adds a second one. “I’m tryna make you feel good, baby. Why you fightin’ me?” Paige asks. Her voice as deep and hungry as I ever heard it. 

Her fingers curl into me, thumb rubbing tight circles on my unbelievably sensitive clit. She found it within a matter of milliseconds, it felt like. And the lights were off.

“He fuck you better than me? Huh?”

I barely hear her over the sound of my own cunt but that doesn’t stop me from shaking my head eagerly. “No. Fuck no, P. He doesn’t.” 

I’m nearly melting at the stimulation. Her voice in my ear and her finger’s scissoring me apart

“P.” I hiccup, nothing else filling my head except the pleasure I’m feeling. Her fingers are so damn long, tickling the deepest parts of me that I didn’t even know existed. She consumes me, swallows me whole. 

Her mouth finds my neck again, biting on my sensitive spot and making my eyes roll. I’m so close, my arousal already dripping past my cunt and onto the sheets below my ass. It’s messy. Wet and messy.

“You wanna cum for me, angel?” Paige teases, licking at the mark she left on my neck.

“Fuck, Fuck! ‘Mm God, P, you’re—”

“You’re doin’ so good, ma. I know you wanna cum.” She nods. “Just let me have it.”

“Paige!” I moan, reaching to grip her hand.

“Pretty fuckin’ girl. Cum, baby. I’m right here.” 

Her words add unbelievable fuel to the fire and my back arches underneath her body. She’s talking me through it, bringing me to the edge and I gasp before waking up.

The sun peeks through my blinds and sleep still crusts my eyes. I wipe them, sitting up half naked in my bed. 

I got home late last night. Closer to one in the morning. Paige was distracting, and I simply couldn’t just leave when she was begging me to stay.

My body is sweaty, my breath is embarrassingly ragged, and My panties are so soaked under the shorts I wore to bed. 

When I sit up, the duvet covering my body, I reach for my phone. Then I see them, the hundreds of texts and calls from Julian and the text from Paige.

Hope you make the right decision

I’ll see you when I get back ma ��🏼

[glitteringdust]

Lucanis and Spite's reaction to Rook being trapped in the Regret prison, or, if someone already asked that, romanced Lucanis having to tell Viago (massive older brother vibes) that Crow!Rook is stuck in the Regret prison

Standing in the entrance of Rook's room, Lucanis closes his eyes.

For a moment, he swears he feels her right there— sitting on the couch, curled over her notebook making a sketch of something she couldn't get out of her head.

The room still smells of cinnamon spice from the incense she always had burning on the far dresser. Her clothes would be everywhere, along with loose notes and bits of potion ingredients scattered about.The fade window of swimming fish would remind him of the Ossuary like it always did— sending a sour storm of adrenaline straight to his chest. Only by Rook's sweet face murmuring soft reassurances would he return to the present, back in her presence.

The moment passes and he knows what he will see when he opens his eyes. Nothing is as it should be.

Rook is gone. Gone. Betrayed by Solas.

Spite bristles along his spine at the thought. Lucanis clenches a fist as he battles the demon's anger as well as his own. For once, they were both equally powerless to rescue her.

We find her. We find Rook.

Spite was angry more than anything else, bleeding into Lucanis' every thought. He wanted revenge, action… something to stab and kill and as far as the demon was concerned the team was doing nothing at all.

But they had no choice, so all they could do was bide their time, recoup their resources and figure out a plan to find Rook.

—

In the fleeting moments he's able to close his eyes and sleep, he still sees the flash of light in his dreams. A bright flash, Rook's horrified voice shouting his name, and then nothing. It was unnerving, seeing it over and over again. Spite seemed almost as incapacitated by the dreams as Lucanis was.

Emmrich once said spirits could experience intense mood shifts during stress, perhaps that was the reason why he kept bringing Lucanis' sleeping body to Rook's room. To feel better.

She always made things better.

Ever since she disappeared, everything around them had dampened. Colors, taste… all of it was muffled without her around. Was she even alive? How could they know? They killed one god, and faced two more. Who could say she hadn’t been vaporized by Solas?

No. I feel her.

“You feel her because this is her room, Spite. You don't know that she lives.”

You give up?

"Never. Not until I see her body."

There's a feeling of approval. Never again lose what's ours.

He should leave her room, if he plans to get anything done today. He needs to travel to Treviso still, update Teia and Viago about Rook. He'd already waited a week too long. He knows the conversation might end up with Viago trying to kill him, but they needed to know. They were her only other family, after all. As he turns to go, he spots a loose piece of paper peeking out from under the couch. Spite urges him to pick it up, stronger than ever.

It's a sketch of himself, outlined in purple. Underneath, the words vhenan as well as the following:

“Say it, before it's too late.”

He thinks to the night before she disappeared, how she'd come for their usual evening drink but was preoccupied. Nervous. Surely she was just anxious about the next day's events, but instead….

She loves him.

He told her not to make a promise she couldn't keep, yet here he was having broken the last half of his. He didn't keep her safe that day.

Should she not return, every blighted creature would feel his blade.

[hannieoftheyear]

Warning Signal (jww) TEASER

Two targets you need to figure out, alongside the one person you most despise, and zero mistakes allowed.

As the lives of your targets get more and more intertwined, and your plan gets more complicated, memories of the past and feelings you thought you could put aside threaten to ruin the mission.

pairing: criminal!wonwoo x criminal!reader

w.c: 915 (for the teaser), full work will be over 20k

release date: tbd

genre: exes to partners in crime to lovers, violence, angst, smut (not in the teaser)

content warnings (for the full work): vague descriptions of what their "job" actually is, criminal acts, stalking, spying, invasion of privacy, use of fake names, fake identities, stealing (both reader and wonwoo do all of the above), mentions of guns, fight scenes, blood, murder, death (not the main characters) | the story will contain flashbacks written in cursive (such as this teaser)

note: this is very different from what i've been posting so far, but i had a dream about a similar story and couldn't get it out of my mind.

on that note, i'm not sure when i'll be able to finish this bc it's taking a lot of time to make sure everything makes sense and for the relationship to be fully fleshed out. it might be done by january (that sounds so weird to say omg)

if anyone wants to be on the taglist, comment this post!

“The bit is over Wonwoo, go home.”

“Let’s just work together, one last time.” His voice reaches closer and closer from behind you until you stop walking and force yourself to face him. 

“Not only do I not need your help, I especially don’t want it.” 

“Look, I’m not asking you to forgive me, just–” He appears to have regretted what he was about to say, and you don’t wait for him to gather his thoughts. 

“Just what? Understand it? We’re way past that don’t you think?” 

“We’re good together,” your brain glitches with astonishment before he corrects himself, “We always worked better when we did these jobs together, you know that.” 

“You have some serious nerve, after last time, the least I should do it rat you out right this second.” 

“You wouldn’t do that, it’s not your style.” 

“To fuck over my partners? No, that’s yours.” 

He's trying to charm his way into your life again, like the past few months could disappear at the flash of a smile, and you'll be damned if you let him.  

“Let’s just see it as a mere trade of information, nothing more.” Neither his voice nor his expression suggests that he’s trying to deceive you, and you hate that you're even considering his offer.  

“And I wouldn’t have to see your face ever again after?” 

“That would be your loss, but sure. One last job and we’d be done.” 

“Are you being serious?” 

It’s hard to trust him. No matter how much he insists it’s his only goal. But it’s true that whatever knowledge he collected on that dude would save you a lot of time and resources, and you have to do this job well to prove yourself to your boss. 

“Dead serious. I promise.” 

A year before… 

The waitress, with purple bags under her eyes and bleach blonde hair tied up in a bun on the edge of falling undone, sighed on the way to tell the same client, for the fourth time in two hours, that it was prohibited to smoke inside the establishment. You saw that man doing countless other illegal things while sitting on that same dark booth the entire night, but the bar drew the line at smoking indoors. 

He huffed at her but ultimately put the cigarette out against the wood table. There were fewer and fewer people the more the time passed, and soon enough, it was going to be too suspicious for you to still be there. You couldn’t be the only customer left in the bar when he left, but the person he was still waiting for was the key to all this, and you couldn’t leave without that information. 

An ‘80s country song started playing on the radio, and the man started tapping his fingers against the table, following the rhythm of the classic. It was almost serene, the way he relaxed at the sound of the familiar tune, but the night started to feel more and more like a waste of time. Whatever the deal was with the person who wasn’t showing up, it was clearly not happening. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” A familiar figure sat in front of you at the secluded booth you kidnapped for the whole night. But the smile that appeared on your face at him quickly dissipated. 

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s too empty.” Besides the staff, you and the old man, there were only three people inside the dusty bar at that time, all alone, too drunk and on the brink of leaving. It was almost impossible not to stand out in that crowd. 

“Don’t worry, I called in a few favors.” Just as Wonwoo finished his sentence, a group of at least ten men, talking loudly and in the mood to celebrate something, walked into the tiny bar, disrupting the serenity but providing you with much needed cover. 

“You’re so... resourceful.” Your words mixed with a giggle as the atmosphere changed from calm and musty to a playful bachelor-esque party inside the bar. “How did you know I was here?” 

“I always know where you are, baby.” A chill climbed up your spine at his teasing smile. “And also, I was waiting for a guy to show up here. He’s supposed to be meeting someone.” 

The loud laugh that escaped you almost beat the drunk shouting of the bachelors in volume. It was easy to connect the dots, and it also wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. 

“You know something I don’t?” Wonwoo’s eyes didn’t stray away from the smile on your lips. 

You just giggled as your eyes darted towards the sketchy old man, who was back to smoking, seeing that the staff’s attention was focused on the new customers. You could feel Wonwoo’s gaze stay on you for a second before following yours, and the realization hit him quickly, the years of working together serving their purpose. 

“Yours?” The amusement in his voice made you nod eagerly, sipping on the mocktail that had been sitting untouched on the table for over an hour. “It’s been a while.” 

This job, the thing that you do for a living, got lonely every now and then. Doing everything on your own, not being able to share it with the people closest to you, can take a toll on anyone, no matter how detached they're able to get. So, when you got a chance to work with the one you love, you were for sure gonna take it. 

“I know, it’s gonna be fun.”  

thank you for reading! i love this story and i cant wait to finish it so you all can finally read it!

remember! if you want to join the taglist, comment on this post ♡

[i-didnt-do-1t]

cw. mentioned death.

It wasn’t the first time her and Jack had fought, she wasn’t sure if she could include the argument on the rooftop, but they’d had their fair share of petty fights since.

This didn’t feel petty though, it felt far too real, and charged and she didn’t get angry like this often but he was making her sound like she was crazy.

“I still don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You do, I know you do.” She paused, waiting for him to respond or turn to face her, watching the way the muscles on his back worked as he reached up to paint the top left corner of a new back drop for Medda. “Jack would you look at me-“

“I’m paintin’, Kathy.”

“We’re having a conversation.”

“I can multi-task.”

She tensed her jaw, could feel a quiet aching creeping up her throat and tried to swallow it down but it didn’t help.

“You’re being rude.”

“Kathy.” It was spat and overtly unapologetic, his back still turned to her though she could see the white knuckle grip he had on his paintbrush. “Sorry that I weren’t taught etiquette like the guys you grew up around, but could just let me work? And stop asking about stuff I ain’t wanna talk about?”

“I’m not trying to be invasive. There’s no need to be so horrible.”

When he didn’t turn around, and didn’t answer, she tightened her arms around herself, folded over her chest.

“Fine.”

The slight heels of her shoes echoed around the auditorium as she stormed out, maybe Jack looked at her then, felt sick the way she did whenever they argued and it was real and serious, but she didn’t turn around to check.

She slammed the door behind her.

…

She didn’t mean to end up at the distribution gate, the path was familiar these days and she frequently walked the cobblestoned streets to meet Jack when he collected the evening edition but it was nearer night now, the sky dark and drizzling with rain and if she was cold she wouldn’t admit it.

There were still two figures, just inside the gate, loading excess piles of papers into a cart, and one of them brushing up the courtyard in a way that felt pointless considering it was late autumn. The one at the cart threw his head back in what looked like a laugh and Katherine almost felt bad interrupting but curiosity and anger had brewed into a concoction of stubbornness in the pit of her stomach.

“Excuse me?” The gate creaked open under her touch. “Mr delancey?”

It had been months since she last talked to them, had no reason to run into them aside from the strike, but she’d seen them around her father’s office, always together, always scowling.

They both stopped to look at her, as she stepped into the yard, aware of the mud staining the hem of her dress and the way it splattered across her shoes.

“Pulitzer?” It was Oscar, she was fairly certain, though she couldn’t say for sure. Tall, and messy brown curly hair and dark eyes as glared at her. “The hell do you want. Kelly ain’t here.”

“I know he’s not.” She hesitated, observed the way the two of them shared a look. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

She swallowed.

“I- the last time I spoke to you, in my father’s office, you mentioned that Jack had a brother.” Oscar’s expression shifted. “Was his name Michael, by any chance?”

The silence, aside from the city settling down for the evening, seemed to stretch, only to be interrupted by Oscar barking out a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, the kid was called Michael. Why do you wanna know. Kelly ain’t told you?” His voice was amused.

If she wasn’t so frustrated, she knew she wouldn’t reveal something so personal, and she wasn’t doing it to be mean, she reassured herself, she just had to know. How on earth was she meant to help Jack if she didn’t know.

Still, It wasn’t all that comforting a thought, especially not as Oscar looked at her, leaning back casually against the cart he’d just been loading, a gleam of something cruel in his eyes.

Or maybe it was just the street lamp.

“Jack’s been saying it in his sleep.” She said, instead of acknowledging it. “And waking up crying, night terrors, I assume.”

“Yeah. He used to get those.”

“So. Why. Over what. I know- I know the refuge was bad but I don’t quite understand-“

“Michael’s dead.”

The stubbornness in her stomach turned to lead. “What?”

“Michael. Kelly’s brother.” He spoke slowly, like she was stupid, shoving a hand in his pocket and pulling out a box of cigarettes as he did so, “he died, and cowboy pretty much killed him.”

“No. No, Jack wouldn’t-“

“You want a smoke?”

Her hands were shaking, she was freezing. The box was being held out to her and she acted on instinct, reaching for one. His fingers were freezing and ink stained where hers brushed his, short bitten fingernails lined with dirt and grit.

“Jack wouldn’t.” She repeated.

“Maybe not on purpose.” He fished a match from a different pocket. “But he loaded him on the back of the carriage, tryna escape the refuge y’know. Like a fuckin’ idiot. And the kid fell off. Cracked his head open and then got run over by the back wheel.”

He said it casually as he lit the end of his cigarette. Like it was nothing.

.

“What.”

Her voice was a croak.

Oscar inhaled smoke and scoffed at her.

“Cowboy got out and Michael didn’t. Could see it from the window.”

“Oh. my god.”

“S’ probably reachin’ that time a year. It was near christmas, I think. Right mo?”

“Yeah. Yeah. cause Snyder gave folk turkey at dinner a couple weeks later.”

“Oh yeah. Course. It was shit.”

The cold air was biting. Katherine could feel it down to her bones.

“I- wait. So Jack-“

“Yeah. Fuckin’ stupid. Kelly can have a go at me all he fuckin’ wants. But at least I kept my wee brother alive.”

“But-“

“You can tell when you know, you see how he acts with the tiny Jacobs? It’s like he forgets sometimes, that he ain’t his.”

That backs of her eyes burned, the aching from the back of her throat creeping up the base of her skull and she had to press a palm over her mouth, gaze blurring with tears.

“Are you cryin’, Pulitzer?”

She was sure she was going to throw up.

“Christ. It was ages ago. Cryin’ ain’t gonna do shit. But it’s probably why he’s havin’ nightmares.”

He exhaled smoke as he spoke, and the smell of it turned Katherine’s stomach.

She pictured Jack again, alone in the theatre, covered in paint and the way she knew he roughly wiped away angry tears with the back of his hand.

The empty look in his eyes when he’d wake up from one of those dreams, pushing away the hand that was carding through his hair, breathing heavy and ignoring her and pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes.

“You gonna smoke that or jus’ hold it.”

She let her hand fall, wordlessly handed back the cigarette. Oscar hesitated.

Held her gaze.

“I dunno actually.” He paused, gave her a once over. “Maybe you should smoke it.”

Beside him Morris nodded, exhaling a lung full of smoke into the cold air.

“It helps.”

[gravekeeper-anna]

Daily Writing Challenge 2024

November, Day 5 Words: Captive/Skill

@daily-writing-challenge

{ Taking place after Day 2: Deceit/Eternal (Safrona) }

It was a full wonder why the Gravekeeper allowed the demon a place to manifest in the depths of her mausoleum. Why she had let herself be taught the unnervingly familiar patterns of the basic summoning rune, why she had let the demonic heathen speak a word. The demonic teachings Lady Handhour had learned in life had been scraped away from her mind, perhaps torn away even on a spiritual level, and she craved no real return. A desperate woman in her grief had allowed herself to be pulled into the machinations of a cult in those years, allowed herself to be made captive and indoctrinated, and the less she remembered of those wretchedly wrong mistakes made, the better.

In truth, the Gravekeeper harbored a sharp dislike now for the Fel and the demonic by association. It was a force that was messy, mutated chaos bent on disorder, destruction. Even necromancy and death had structure, she thought, had its layered uses. It was a wonder that she did not allow her phantom friends to overwhelm the demon in the already waiting memorial that was the Gravekeeper’s home.

It was a wonder that she did not seek to separate demonic skin from bone, slowly, curious to how it might scream and how long it’s flesh could last until expiration. She did like the decorative potential of a perfectly preserved horned skull, and demon skin and bone might have fetched a good trade in the Apothecary market as an afterthought. In some aching chamber of her betrayed core, she wanted to strip the flesh from other things the demon whore was connected to. Crush her skull to dust, cast the name she had taken to nothingness.

Elernia appeared, a devil’s grin cut across her face. As if she knew from the moment she chose to appear, what the Gravekeeper wanted. The Keeper, saw red. Phantasmal hands struck the succubus in a sudden, vicious slap that echoed a dozen times through each supernatural limb, knocking the feminine figure to the stone floor with a satisfying collision. “I have a thought…” the banshee whispered insidiously, each of her phantasmal hands gripping the writhing demonic body in sections, and with brutal force, began to pull. “Maybe I don’t quite need you. Maybe, I only need your parts.” 

And then, a perfectly shaven skull parted the succubus fingers as she choked, rasped and cried out in pain. Perfectly preserved, the humanoid skull gleamed white on the sallow floor of her mausoleum. Immediately, the Keeper’s phantasmic hands released the demon, and slipped over the skull, bringing it into her ghostly fingers with unconventional gentleness. 

“I…I brought you what you wished, dearest,” the demon rasped out, regaining control of her breaths. She now held one of her overextended arms in the other, but the same devilish grin returned to her lips. “An offering, my Anna. Say hello to one very pathetic Mr. Delacroix, former Acolyte. I rid him of the less needed parts. He buried himself very nicely in Stormwind nobility, feeding off of their needs. And now you can bury him where you like. And I left a little something on the scene that’ll make the city wary about Summoners all over again. Nothing too pointed to our little mistake, but you know. Baby steps.”

“You are unbound, and she suspects nothing?” the Gravekeeper asked skeptically, tracing her pale fingers inside the natural sculpt of the skull’s eyeholes. The skull had been stripped of all skin cleanly, perhaps through acidic values, then lightly glazed to prevent any surface damage. It was a skilled, thoughtful preservation, something akin to what she might have performed to scoured relics when she was alive.

“Oh, I doubt it. I’ve always been good at being convincing. I've given her a little something to distract her. Besides, the little witch is shaken, I’d say even a little more unstable than usual.” The succubus hummed conspiratorially. “It’d be a perfect time to push her just a little more off the edge. Make everyone else in her circles distrust her. Isolation’s always fun.”

“Bring me more offerings,” the Gravekeeper insisted, the sudden flicker of her rage abated as quickly as the wind, now admiring her new skull. “...and tell me a bit about what the little Anomaly has learned to love. Maybe she’ll find she can’t protect them from the grave.”

[fleshengine]

I experienced Mouthwashing last night (a friend streamed it to me because I'm too fucken broke to buy it) and I'm curious to hear your thoughts on it

Anya killing herself with the remaining painkillers doesn't make sense because they were labelled paracetamol which is acetaminophen. Acetaminophen overdose takes days to kill, so unless she was barricaded in medical for a lot longer than it seems in game it wouldn't have killed her that fast. We know it's acetaminophen poisoning as well, because she vomited all over herself. It's the only "plothole" in the story, which is impressive given its multiple POVs and jumping around in time.

I don't understand why Jimmy fed Curly a piece of himself, it feels like cannabalism imagery for the sake of cannabalism imagery. If he's just going to chuck him in a cryopod, and then off himself why bother? Then again, Jimmy's mental state is far from anything I'd even consider calling stable.

Swansea putting Daisuke out of his misery doesn't make sense to me because why not do the same for Curly? This could be handwaved by the dwindling medical supplies or as characterization for Swansea but it struck me as odd.

I can tell what the game is trying to say, and it says it because I've seen other people talk about it at length. Ya know, toxic work culture, guys will back eachother up even if they know the other is doing something terrible, that kinda shit. But some of the surrealist and scary shit just seems thrown in for maximum spookage. I think the game would be better if they cut the scary shit by half and focused more on the actual story they're trying to tell. As it stands, it feels a lot like "hey if there were two guys on the moon and one of them killed the other with a rock would that be fucked up or what?" Obviously I'm being a little reductive, but that's still the vibe aboard the tulpa, I mean Tulpar. Oh yeah, naming your spaceship after tulpas, that was certainly a choice.

Honestly it feels like youtube/gametheory/reaction bait. It starts with big spooks and has surrealist horror sequences so the funny men on youtube can scream and yell. It's out of order so people can make "Mouthwashing in chronological order" videos. It's got a confusing plot so people can make "Mouthwashing EXPLAINED" videos. A lot of the story just isn't told to you and you have to fill it in or find someone to do that for you. You might think "oh well maybe it's 'show, don't tell' done well!" and no, it's not. The game specifically shows you so little, which is nice in a horror game but at the same time, I need SOMETHING to convey the information.

My best example of this is Daisuke in the vent. What happens to him? Dunno, he gets magically fucked up. How does he get the door to medical open while deathly injured? Dunno but he does. I figured we might get a little info when we go into the vent in one of the nightmare vision sequence things, but nope! It's just more random spooks.

Someone could point to me and say "ew stupid gamer needs everything spelled out with yellow paint for her" and honestly they'd be right a little. When it comes to games like this, with complex plots, time jumps, nonchronological storytelling, and abstract nightmare sequences, I would like a little yellow paint occasionally. You can be confusing all you want and I'll enjoy it but when I'm done I want to know what happened.

8/10, I'm glad I watched a playthrough rather than pay for it myself.

[water-writings]

ways to say i love you + as an apology + hana!

I loved this one so much! Thank you, Leaf, I hope you like it! I'm starting to love Hana and Law so much. This is my first piece I've ever written for them. Enjoy!

Heart sinking, Hana stared at the pieces of paper on Law’s desk. The white sheets slowly turned brown as the coffee seeped into the material. Wide eyes slowly turned up to look at her boyfriend and she held back a squeak when she saw the look on his face. 

Law was staring down at the papers and books on his desk, a vein throbbing in his forehead. He was silent as his hand clenched around the pen he was holding, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t move, only sat there staring at the ruined items.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, almost to the point it was hard to breathe. Hana was holding her breath, shaking as her brain ran a mile a minute. She couldn’t figure out what to do. Should she say something? Clean up the mess? Leave? Run? She was afraid to speak. The look on Law’s face and the fact that he hadn’t moved or uttered a word  terrified her. She couldn’t figure out how to help her boyfriend and with her clumsy nature she knew she’d only make it worse. She shouldn’t have brought the coffee to him.

Slowly and with shaky hands she started to pick up the coffee mug. A piece of sopping paper clung to the ceramic and the pink haired woman poked at it, trying to knock it off. Her eyes kept shifting from the mug to Law, back and forth, back and forth. 

She finally opened her mouth. “I um-” “Just leave it,” Law said quietly, still not looking at her.  “I-I-I’m sorry, Law, I ju-” “I said just leave it!” he snapped. His eyes snapped over to look at her. His grey eyes were sharp and angry as he glared at his girlfriend.  A loud squeak came from Hana and she nearly dropped the mug. “I-I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mea-” “Get out! Now!” the captain shouted.  Tears welled up in Hana’s eyes. Law had never shouted at her before. Only ever to give her orders along with the crew, but never like this. Her cheeks turned pink and she clutched the mug to her chest, lips trembling as she tried to find her voice.  “I-I-I’m so-s-sorry,” she whispered.   Quickly she ran out of Law’s room, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t mean to anger her boyfriend. She didn’t mean to ruin his research. She just wanted to bring him a cup of coffee because she knew it was late and he’d been in his room the majority of the day. All she wanted to do was help and show him she was thinking of him.  Slamming a fist on the desk, Law cursed under his breath. His research was ruined. He’d have to start his notes all over and he’d been working on them all week. He had just finished them! Brow furrowed deeply, he snatched up the documents, crumpling them up in his fists before practically slamming them into the metal waste bucket next to his chair. He brushed the remaining coffee off the table with the back of his hand before grabbing a rag from the small wardrobe he had in the corner. After the spilt coffee was wiped up, he sighed as he rubbed his fingers over his tired eyes. It would be another all nighter just to redo all the work.  ooOOoo

By the time Law had completed redoing his notes he could hear the tell tale signs of his crew moving around. The sound of their voices echoed off the Polar Tang’s walls. Laughter and shouting could be heard as they all gathered to get breakfast.  It was morning.  Groaning, Law ran a hand down his face. It was definitely an all nighter.  Trudging out of his room, Law followed the noise of the crew to the dining hall. As he walked into the room he was greeted with the entirety of his crew. Some were shouting over at each other. Others looked exhausted and grabbed cups of coffee and food as they took their seats at a table. Glancing over at the far end, Law could see Penguin, Shachi, and Ikkaku arguing about something or another. Grumbling, Law went to grab his own breakfast, choosing to grab a cup of coffee and a muffin.  “Captain!” came the gleeful voice of Bepo. “Good morning!”  “Mornin’,” Law grumbled as he sipped his drink.  Bepo looked around, smiling at some of the crew before his brow furrowed. He did another take of the room, eyes scanning over each head.  “Um…Captain?” he said slowly.  “Hm?” came the grunted reply from the dark haired doctor. “Have you seen Hana?” the Mink asked, looking worried. “She’s normally one of the first one’s here and I don’t see her.”  Law’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about, she’s right…”  He trailed off as his eyes didn’t see the familiar head of pink hair. His first mate was right. Hana was nowhere to be seen in the dining hall. The herbalist was usually smiling and talking with the others as she drank her tea or hot chocolate, but she wasn’t there. It was odd behavior for the woman. 

“Do you think she’s sick?” Bepo asked, breaking the captain’s thoughts. “No, she was fine last nig-” Law trailed off again as memories of last night popped in his head. The image of Hana’s tearfilled face flashed in his vision reminding him of what happened. “Fuck…” he cursed as he ran a hand over his face.  Without a word, he grabbed a plate of fruit and a mug before exiting the dining hall. Ignoring the calls from the crew he made his way through the halls once more, heading back the way he came. The whole way he was berating himself in his head. His brow furrowed deeply. He forgot about last night, and he hated himself for it. He couldn’t believe that he had yelled at her like that. He blamed his sleep deprivation and the headache that had been growing before Hana had visited him. He’d never yelled at her the way he did last night and he was angry with himself for it.  Standing outside the metal door that was decorated with a few hanging dried herbs and flowers, he stood there thinking over his words. With a sigh, the man raised a tattooed hand to the door and knocked. Through the other side he could hear a little squeak followed by a soft thud. Hana could be heard giving a sad “oh no…” and Law knew that she had dropped whatever it was that she was working on. Most likely a new batch of medicine. 

“H-hello?” Hana called out.  “It’s me,” Law replied. Shuffling on his feet awkwardly. As he glanced at her could just picture Hana curled up on her bed and hugging one of her stuffed animals to her.  Another squeak could be heard from his girlfriend. Law waited a moment, but when he didn’t hear any movement or see the door open he let out another sigh. She was hiding. “Hana,” he called out.  Silence.  Gritting his teeth, Law balanced the plate of food and mug in one hand as he opened the door. Figures it wasn’t locked. Hana never locked anyone out of her room. She always enjoyed the company of anyone from the crew over being alone.  Pushing the door open, Law was greeted with a mess of leaves and flowers surrounding a spilt bowl of medicine on the floor. His eyes trailed up from the mess to Hana’s bed where he saw a lump under the floral sheets surrounded by her usual pile of stuffed animals.  Sighing, the doctor walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Placing the plate and mug on the nightstand, he sat there in silence with his hidden girlfriend. He looked at the lump and raised an eyebrow before gently grabbing the blanket and pulling it off of her. Hana squeaked, as she looked up at Law. Her eyes were wide and her face was starting to turn red. “H-h-hello, L-Law…” she greeted. “You weren’t at breakfast,” the captain pointed out. He jerked his head to the nightstand. “I grabbed you some fruit before the others ate it all.”  Slowly, Hana sat up and looked to where the breakfast was. Her eyes shifted from it to meet Law’s gaze once more. Her hands were shaking as she fiddled with them before reaching over and grabbing the plate. Her boyfriend shot out a hand when he saw her nearly drop it.  “Careful,” he said firmly. “S-s-sorry!” she stuttered out, her cheeks turning even redder.  With yet another sigh, the man looked at her, watching her turn her head away from him as she started eating the fruit. He had an unreadable expression on his face which was only making Hana squirm where she sat. It was tense and quiet, not helping the woman in any way feel comfortable.  Without a word, Law placed a hand on the back of her head and pulled her close to his side. They sat like that for a while in silence, the only sound coming from Hana chewing on the fruit and the distant sound of the crew in the dining hall.  Hana sat there, staring at the plate, as she felt her heart pound against her chest. She didn’t like the silence. She normally did when she was with Law. It was always peaceful. But not this. She could feel how tense Law was as she sat against him and she was waiting for him to scold her for last night.  Seconds turned into minutes before the pink haired herbalist had the mug shoved in her face. Blinking, she looked at it and gasped. It was hot chocolate. Turning her gaze from the drink, she looked up at her boyfriend to see him staring off in a different direction. Taking the drink, she blushed and smiled lightly to herself before sipping it.  A kiss was pressed to the top of her head and words were mumbled into her hair.  Blushing even more, Hana looked back at Law once again. There was a hint of pink on his cheeks as he looked down at her.  “H-huh?” she said, eyes going wide.  Law sighed, and closed his eyes before meeting her green eyed stare. “I’m sorry,” he said.  Her breath hitched as she was pulled into a tighter hug from her boyfriend. He didn’t say anything else. She knew he’d eventually say something, but right now she just leaned into his embrace. A smile danced on her face as she enjoyed the moment with him.

[themyscirah]

Ok game time which 3 series would you just DIE to get a run on ? I'm talking full creative control, can be as a writer or an artist + plotter if that suits your vibe best

My 3 are

Suicide Squad

Wonder Woman

Green Lantern Corps/Green Lanterns

(in that order)

[sillimancer]

you see, Your Honor, you HAVE to pay me to live in Ireland, it's research for a magical girl series--

[fruitbatvalentine]

Making OC's for post WDGFIL Valentine to become friends with because he's a sad wet cat to me and deserves friendship

[adriartts]

helloooo I designed dante FINALLY and will be adding to it as I figure out her character a bit more. long hair/short hair + earlier designs that I went thru getting it right

[muddi-gutz]

Now that I’m seeing people make snow na’vi with white hair I wanna change mey up 😗

[seumyo]

KENJI SATO ✰ 10:43

“Working overtime really doesn’t suit you, Sato.” The teasing sentence made Kenji grunt in disapproval, slumping against his couch.

“Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you for that valuable input, [Name],” he says, rolling his eyes at you. 

He can’t help the sarcastic reply. Kenji’s schedule was all over the place. His life has been all over the place ever since his return to his home country, Japan. And now he not only has to take care of himself—which, in his defense, was fairly simple when he just had to worry about himself—he has to worry about an infant Kaiju!

What a wonderful (not) icing on the cake.

“Ken is really appreciative that you made time to fulfill his request, or, shall I say, cry for help, [Name].” Mina’s familiar voice flurried from a distance, closing in to your right in a breeze. 

“Hey! It was not a cry for help—it’s more like a... Asking a friend for a favor,” Kenji says, trying to ease his brain with what’s coming out of his mouth (like it was on autopilot, scrambling to defend himself and the pride he had left).

“Uh huh. And the favor is? I don’t really think there’s anything I could do to her containment unit or any repairs that’re needed in this place.”

“I just need someone to watch over her.”

(“I just need someone to talk to” is a much fitting phrase.)

“Doesn’t Mina already do that?”

“There’s only so much a supercomputer like me can do to entertain a living being, [Name].”

On cue, Emi croons at the video of you singing on stage. A part time career of yours, because when you’re not developing new tech that boosts the economy, you might as well indulge in your hobbies. 

Kenji wouldn’t admit it, but he has a vinyl or two—or even a whole collection of them—that he considers as priceless as his one-of-a-kind sports car displayed in the basement.

“Would you look at that? She likes your singing.” 

He watches as you take a step closer to Emi, observing how she delightedly squealed at the soft melody being played on the holograms. This 20-foot-tall baby Kaiju reminded you of the time you took care of children at the daycare center.

“I just...” he sighs. You didn’t even notice that Kenji was already beside you, offering you a canned drink. 

“How do you do it? Juggle everything?” He murmurs. “You’re the busiest person I know. Working on your thesis, performing at various concerts, taking on charity work, and whatnot. Hell, if you could run for president, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the elections, too.”

A quiet laugh was returned. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But within time, you’ll learn just what you need and what you can handle.”

“Mm. Don’t you ever just want to run away from all the responsibilities people place on your shoulders? I can barely take care of this young lady,” he chuckles, though it doesn’t hold even the slightest ounce of humor to it.

“I wish, but then I’ll remember the kids who're so happy to see me whenever I drop by,” you say. “They may be a handful at times, but you’ll be surprised to know just how smart and caring they are. How they take in their surroundings and attempt to figure out who they are. We’re all what they have. The least we could do is give them our time and love all the same.”

Kenji lets your words sink in. Simple and touching. The kind that gets the gears in his head to start twisting.

“You really are a charm with your words; did you know that?”  

“Thanks; I try my best.”

The night continues with Kenji and Emi playing baseball on a simulated field with you by the shed, cheering on from a safe distance. Kenji doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this genuinely happy after his return to Japan. It’s a refreshing feeling that he wants to get used to again. To see the baby Kaiju successfully hit the ball with a swift swing after watching after him is a sight that tugs at one’s heartstrings.

Just like a proud father.

“Come on, girl! We gotta run the bases!”

And as the two celebrate their moment of triumph, the baby Kaiju stomps toward you and giggles happily as she hoists you in the air without much warning. You took it all in you not to shriek and absolutely lose all composure, but when you’re up in the air and are being held to a bear hug like some sort of teddy bear by a Kaiju that could probably crush your bones if not careful, it’s hard to not just scream for your life.

“Oh, ok—ok. Baby, put me down gently, please,” you chuckle nervously. 

“It appears that the little one sees you as her other mother,” Mina adds.

Kenji laughs at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture. This is definitely a memory he’d want to remember.

“This is not funny, Kenji. Tell her to put me down.”

“Aw, is Baby not listening to her Mommy?”

“Again, not funny. This is like an out-of-the-blue co-parenting a child with you. With you being my annoying ex-husband.”

“Specific, eh?”

“Shut!”

When you’re just about to leave for the night, Kenji suggests that you sleep over. There’s a lot of spare bedrooms in their manor, he reasons. He also doesn’t understand what came over him to offer, but he doesn’t take it back.

But it could be because he’s missed you. And he’s somewhat afraid that this may be the last time you see each other in a while due to your clashing schedules.

“You’re such a girl dad, Kenji,” you tease.

“Haha, good one,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He took a couple of blankets from the closet and placed them on the bed.

“Just saying.”

“Whatever you say, Mommy.”

“Oh hush, Daddy.”

That ringed out a laugh from him. “Bleh, that sounds so embarrassing coming from you.”

You shrugged. “Hm? Don’t you think you’re embarrassing too?”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. I will not be going back and forth like this with you anymore, Kenji Sato. Good night!”

Kenji can’t hide the smile that appears on his face. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Definitely missed you.

SEUMYO © 2024. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[zillychu]

designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):

newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!

except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 

oops. they summoned a demon.

which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.

but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.

okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?

weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”

Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?

Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.

it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.

Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?

“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 

“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”

Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.

it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 

But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.

the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??

they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.

Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.

but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.

they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 

when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 

Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.

magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.

they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.

“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.

Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”

abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.

Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 

once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS

(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)

they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:

[hedgehog-moss]

I usually buy one stere of firewood per year, one and a half at most, but this year I saw an ad at the farm store promising a discount if you ordered 5 or 10 steres and I thought, well, I have a brand new wood shed, so let's go, five steres, why not!

Then a big truck came to my house and threw up this lava flow of wood in front of my shed and I realised that my mental representation of 5 steres, in terms of volume, was a bit off.

But that's okay! My friend D. was coming to visit. She's very convenient to have around in early autumn because she enjoys the real-life Tetris aspect of stacking wood—not only that, but she's uncannily talented at spotting blackberries, and September is blackberry season. (I do also invite her in other seasons so she doesn't feel exploited for her gifts.)

I was a bit concerned about the wood-stacking part of her visit though, partly because of the truckload of wood awaiting us and partly because this year's wood is completely shapeless and looks like whimsically sea-sculpted debris from an ancient shipwreck.

(On the left: the pretty logs that /I/ cut, which are shaped and easy to stack. On the right: the nonsensical wood that I bought.)

(My friend saw this and almost went on strike. She was like, "Not a single log has a shape that makes sense with the others... it sucks. That's not Tetris 😠") (Me: "Think of it as having reached a higher, more challenging level of Tetris." Her: "😠")

On top of that, because of the cold and rainy summer we've had, blackberries were very scarce this year, like everything else. Brambles are so ubiquitous in my woods I used to think I would always get more blackberries than I know what to do with, but last month I actually had to go look for them which I'm not used to doing. Every fence is usually covered with blackberries in September, and in some parts of the woods there are hazel trees taken over by brambles so that blackberries are dangling in front of your face temptingly and you don't even need to bend down to pick them. But not this year.

I feared this visit would be quite disappointing for D. if the wood stacking and the berry picking were less fun than usual—but the fact that blackberries were much harder to find than the previous years made her amazing berry-dar all the more necessary and appreciated, and she enjoyed our blackberry hunt. We'd get lost in mazes of giant broom bushes and I'd be like, let's go somewhere else there are no blackberries to be found here, and she'd stop dead and go, "Here!" And here they were!

I don't know how she does it.

One fun thing that happened is that at one point, while D. was somehow finding kilos of blackberries in a field I'd already searched two days before and which had seemed empty of berries, I wandered away into the forest to photograph some pretty mushrooms. Then I heard a strange bird call which, when I looked up and paid more attention to it, sounded more like my friend calling my name from afar. I figured I was being called out for getting distracted from the berry harvest, so I returned to the field. She was crouching down at the other end of the field with her back turned on me and didn't look like she'd just called me.

Half an hour later, when it was getting dark and we were about to go home, she told me, "Hey, did you have something to show me earlier? When you were in the woods." Me: "No, why?" Her: "You called my name."

...

Me: "I didn't call your name. You called MY name." On second thought, she said that it sounded quite shaky and high-pitched, not like my voice, more birdlike. Me: "I initially thought it was a bird too!" Problem: our names sound nothing alike.

We stood there mystified for a minute, wondering if there could be a bird capable of articulating both of our names, or if it was some other animal or thing that somehow knows our names. (We were quite sure there were no humans in the area, because Pandolf is very good at sensing nearby people and always wants to go say hi to them.)

We looked at the woods, then at my car parked nearby, then went, "Okay! Time to go home and never investigate this further 😊"

My friends are a good influence on me—there were people a bit concerned about my sanity in the notes of that post where I talked about going out into the woods at night because something was screaming, and I think they'll be happy with the moral of this story! We went home and sat by the fire eating blackberry tart and talked about what a great decision it was, all things considered, to not try to figure out what sort of creature wanted us to wander deeper into the forest at dusk. The end.

[yueebby]

Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀

she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz

notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.

“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously. 

“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”

shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.

utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer. 

“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.

intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”

“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.

“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial. 

utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.

“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly. 

“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards. 

utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”

from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.

with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.

bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.

“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.

“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”

“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.

a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.

“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?”  satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.

“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.

during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress. 

“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.

“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”

you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.

“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.

 you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.

“that’s what love does to a man.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.” 

 satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.

“how much?”

“excuse me?”

“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you. 

you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.

shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!” 

suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”

“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.

she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”

you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.

trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”

“i’m buying you that dress.” 

“o-okay.” 

half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.

perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.

it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.

as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.

breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"

his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.

“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”

gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.

"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.

the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.

“what?”

“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”

“oh.” 

silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.

satoru can only watch, entranced.

“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.

satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.

but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.

his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.

you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.

"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.

“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.

you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”

“great, it’s a date!” 

good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.

maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.