#publishing my music

[turbo-tsundere]

Content warning for gore, blood, burns & body horror.

A king with no crown and a holy fool.

(The element of venom/poison, stabbing/puncture wounds and destruction of a whole body is present in both of their deaths. Kokichi's pristine white clothes also end up being shoved down the toilet, and the poison made it difficult for him to breathe, so there's plausible callback to Miu also. Karma at its finest?)

If I could be the devil, you could be the sinner.

(Don't mind them, they're just spilling their guts)

(...)

(Concepts for scenes from a Gonta-centric survival horror game I'll never make. But it was fun to daydream about - maybe one day I'll finish other sketches and doodles relating to it into a more presentable state. The Cat Lady OST was playing on constant repeat while I drew this - Lily of the Valley, Don't Follow the Light, String, Plainwalker, Early Winter, Storytelling, Susan's Blue Sheep (alone again) - those in particular are now stuck in my brain when I look at those drawings, and what I imagine the "game's" mood to be like, at least the opening segment.)

(I felt both heartbroken and like a monster when drawing this one... But I wanted to draw something that doesn't conveniently erase nor tuck his mangled, swollen face away from view. Sure... in game it looks goofy. But I think mockingly disfiguring him was the point in all of this, too. And given the venom, the Schmidt pain index, how it rates some wasp species, the fact that those robot wasps could be packed with anything necessary really... it had to be awful. Really, every stage of Gonta's execution was excruciating and enough to kill a person on its own, but due to his strength he likely suffered through them all. I remember begging in my head he was at least spared the flame, that he was already gone by this point... But it's foolish to pretend it definitely was the case.)

I wanted to post something new, but I was either busy, ill, or focused on something else, so another sketchdump with oldies and wips it is. This time strictly 2020-21 stuff, drawn during the first few months after finishing the game; mostly to process the post-game/Ch4 sorrows. All very emotionally raw, very edgy stuff that I felt, to be honest, too shy to show before.

Like with any wip I posted before, I do hope to finish some of them properly one day, even though I don't know when. But that's fine, I've signed up for a very long ride with the bug man. Taking it easy is the priority.

Speaking of long-term projects, maybe there's no need to, but I do want to talk about my Gonta fancomic, so here goes.

It's a bit long, so I will continue under the cut.

(Some panel teasers first! ...Gonta sanity fine.)

I took a few months long break from personal drawings - an *actual* break, not just sitting in front of a screen, tired, stewing in guilt that I'm tired, and that I can't magically muscle through burnout, or headache, or exhaustion.

My brain was stuck in a loop of berating myself for underperforming, not doing well enough, for taking so long on "mere" 27 pages, when in the past I could finish a 90-page webcomic chapter much faster. I wouldn't let myself rest, because I didn't do enough; but I couldn't do enough, because I didn't allow myself to rest. And it's been going on for months and months.

What a stupid, unconstructive thing to do to myself. I was only spiralling down, intimidating and overwhelming myself with work on the one thing I specifically wanted to keep doing out of joy, not ambition and pedantism. So I decided to just say "fuck it" and stop for a while. Like, actually stop, do something else and try to feel unapologetic about it.

So I briefly took up sewing, a creative activity I had no personal stake in, and then I started PVP-ing in DS3 (sorry if I happened to kick your butt in there. Rest assured my butt gets kicked just as much), which did wonders, too, as non-artistic pastime.

And, in the end, it seems it worked.

I finally feel this internal drive to draw again. Sadly, I can't spend all of my free time on the doujin (I might need to open commissions soon), so my pacing will still be glacial... But there was an internal change from "I have to, I have to, I must..." back to "I want to". And this is all that matters.

Still, that makes me think... while technically I don't have deadlines, the comic has taken so much longer than I thought it would - and it will take a while still. Thus, I wonder if I shouldn't change my approach re publishing it.

The initial idea was to post it all at once when it's fully finished, but I debate releasing it one page at a time instead, while it's still work in progress.

Thing is, I don't think it would be good for overall pacing. I don't want to sacrifice it, plus I can't guarantee regular uploads, esp since I don't exactly work on the pages in chronological order (While the first page is done, it was drawn after I finished a few in the middle & at the end; and there are still a few important pages/panels in first half I'm a bit too afraid of touching just yet, wanting to do them justice. This is how I work in general, jumping around rather than sticking to overly strict linear order.)

The compromise would be to post like 3-5 pages per post, making it so each upload covers a specific scene, however, same issue arises - I can't promise regular uploads. In the end it feels like a half-measure. But maybe it's a good idea, despite that impression?

There's a secret option, too - if this takes absurdly long, my plan was to just post the storyboard, after replacing some panels/pages with already finished drawings. The thing is readable as is, and long finished on that front anyway. My personal deadline for that was "right before my current lease ends", but, well… I plan on extending it anyway, and again... it's just a back-up option for when everything else fails. In the end, I just want to finish the comic, and present it how it's meant to be presented, however long it will take.

All those things considered, I'll stick to the original plan for now... and then we shall see. I simply wanted to share where things stand currently, and where they might go.

And that's it! If you've read this far, thank you. See you in the undetermined future.

[pitsazawr]

you look kinda mad, Bradley... are u okay?

[beccawise7]

Find the person who feeds your soul and you'll never go hungry.

~beccawise7💜🖤

🎵🎶 ~ Blossom, Dermot Kennedy

[emilyjunk]

Mean Girls 2024 + Reductress Headlines

[pa-pa-plasma]

[ruthlessness69]

Alsoooooo a little silly sketchy drawing of THE SONS DUO™

[soupmanspeaks]

something something headcanon Michael wrote a good amount of the Fnaf songs as a way of coping with the horrors™️ so like in his handy dandy notebook, right next to his plans of arson and vivid drawings of nightmares, it reads "I can see you there, warmth and life, why don't you share, it's been many years, stuck here living with out fears-" and it doubles as Michael trying to categorize all the information he's learnt and helping him process all this information and it gives this really funny visual of later on, Gregory asking Glamrock Freddy something from the past of Fazbear Entertainment or his previous family drama and then Freddy just starts humming and muttering "....mmm all stay strong, we live eternally, all is well in mmmmm pure insanity, mmmmm-AH!- here is your answer, Gregory! :333" no because imagine he shows Gregory "Too Far" (by CK9C) and Greg's like "Thats......a lot of yelling." "I was going through a rough time haha." -listens to it further before taking of the headphones- "...You good man?" "I'm really not, but we ball, Gregory."

[too-damn-good-for-growing-old]

Dallas Winston looks Ponyboy Curtis and Johnny Cade in the eyes and tells them that he loves them.

Those are not the words he uses. Of course they aren’t. His words are rougher around the edges — Dally knows he’s the furthest thing from articulate and that’s just fine with him — but it seems like the kids get what he’s saying. He hopes they do, at least, because Dally doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to say it again.

But he has to say it once, because Pony and Johnny deserve to know.

Darrel is the one to help him realize it, oddly enough. How he feels about them. How much they actually mean to him. It isn’t until the eldest Curtis stands inches away from his face and outright accuses him of not giving a shit that it occurs to Dally that he actually does.

It’s why he gave Johnny that blade. Came back to bite him in the ass, since no good deed goes unpunished, but he’d wanted to protect the kid. And give him the ability to protect himself. Dallas showed little Johnny Cade how to kill a man because he loves him. More than anything.

Ponyboy, too. Baby Curtis the smartypants, Dally loves him. Pipsqueak’s somehow both too intelligent for his own good and needs to get his head out of the clouds at the same time; it’s almost impressive. If anything happened to that kid, Dallas would never forgive himself. He knows Darrel would never forgive him either.

So he understands why Darrel says what he does. He’s an asshole, but he just wants what’s best for his kid brother. In that way, he’s not different from Dallas at all. It’s about time someone told him so.

And if Darrel Curtis gets to know that Dally has a beating heart underneath all his worn leather and concrete bones and wolfish smile, then hell. The people it beats for should know too.

They both smile when he tells them. Johnny’s is small and grateful, just like him, while Pony’s is surprised and proud. The expression flickers on and off of their faces quickly, because the circumstances ain’t exactly fit for sunshine and rainbows, but Dally sees the way they smile. He supposes it means they’re okay with it, then. Being his little brothers. It’s a relief.

Dallas Winston has loved Ponyboy Curtis and Johnny Cade like they were his own for a long time. It just never seemed important to tell them til now, is all. He’s always assumed the mushy stuff went without saying. But then they both almost got killed (glory, they almost got killed) and the only thing Dally can think while King Shit Curtis practically spits in his face is that he could���ve lost them. They almost went six feet under without ever knowing that they’re the closest thing to family Dally’s ever had.

No one’s ever told Dallas that they love him. He could give a rat’s ass. But Pony and Johnny are loved, and they should know. Especially Johnnycakes, because Dallas would be willing to bet everything he’d win at the rodeo that no one’s ever said it to him either. And unlike Dally, Johnny actually does want to know that someone cares.

So screw Darrel and his holier-than-thou crap, and screw being made of stone, and screw waiting til later because later might not come.

Dallas tells the kids that he loves them. He tells them in his own way, and he doesn’t expect anything in return.

But when Johnny says, “We think of you the same way, Dally, ain’t it, Ponyboy?” and Ponyboy says, “Heck yes.”

Dally hears the “we love you too” loud and clear.

[ghost-oftheriver]

HI I MADE KEYCHAINS

[charbroiledchicken]

reading my writing is like playing 'spot the reference!' because i keep subconsciously sprinkling in little nods to my favourite things. its not obvious or anything but if someone knew anything about the media they would be like:

"why the fuck are you referencing crimson rivers people are dying...yep, and there's the shrek quote. "

[shocktreatment]

Hair (1967)

[astrea-lil-fantasy-world]

Training Season

David x oc 7k+ words Tags: romance, angst, sexual tension, emotional conflict I've taken a lot of creative permissions, this doesn't follow any episode in the game, so keep it in mind

"Are you someone that I can give my heart to?

Or just the poison that I'm drawn to?''

The room was suffocatingly still, save for the fading echoes of a guttural scream that had moments earlier reverberated through the cracked walls. She leaned against the doorway, her damp hair plastered to her forehead as she clutched her coat tighter around herself. The exorcism was over—the malevolent presence banished—but the oppressive weight it left behind clung to her like a second skin.

David strolled in from the adjoining room, his dark curls falling messily over his forehead as though he hadn’t just faced down an ancient demon moments ago. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal forearms faintly smudged with ash. His casual demeanor felt out of place, but the nonchalance was as much a part of him as the mischief in his dark eyes.

“Well, that was fun,” he quipped, flashing the easy grin he seemed to wear in every situation. “What’s the verdict, Little Witch? Not as thrilling for you, I’m guessing.”

Kith shot him a weary but sharp look. “If holding down a possessed teenager while they spit venom counts as fun, then sure—a blast.”

David’s grin widened, but a flicker of something more serious passed through his gaze. “You’re handling this better than most humans would,” he said lightly, brushing past her to lean against the wall. “Empathy can be a liability, though. Demons feed on your emotional reserves, you know.”

“I can’t just switch it off, David,” she replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “That kid is gone forever. I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter. Maybe you can shrug it off, but I’m not like you.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said softly, his teasing grin dimming into something almost solemn. “You’re good at what you do, Kith. That empathy of yours? Annoying as hell sometimes, but it keeps you human. And trust me, that’s rarer than you think in this line of work.”

She blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity tucked into his words. Before she could respond, the sharp click of heels against the charred floor interrupted them.

Felonia appeared in the doorway, immaculate in her tailored suit, her dark hair swept back as if untouched by the chaos. “Are we ready? We should head back before Somnus and Furious decide to make a dramatic entrance.”

David groaned theatrically. “More lectures about ‘protocol’ and how I’m the root of all inefficiency. Can’t wait.”

“Likely,” Felonia replied with a smirk. Her sharp gaze shifted to Kith. “You holding up?”

“Getting used to it,” Kith answered, standing straighter despite the exhaustion tugging at her. “Still not my favorite thing.”

Felonia gave her a sympathetic look. “You’ll toughen up. Or you won’t. Either way, it’s entertaining.”

David rested a hand briefly on Kith’s shoulder, the warmth grounding her. “You’re doing just fine, Little Witch,” he said, his touch lingering a moment too long before he stepped away.

As the group moved to leave the room, the oppressive air seemed to shift, a faint crackle of static brushing against Kith’s senses. She paused in the doorway, her hand lingering on the warped frame, and glanced back into the now-empty space. The remnants of the exorcism still hung heavy in the air—broken symbols scrawled on the walls, the faint scorch marks from hastily extinguished sigils, and the lingering chill that spoke of a malevolent presence that had been only partially expelled.

“Something wrong?” David’s voice cut through her thoughts, steady but tinged with curiosity.

Kith shook her head, though the uneasy feeling twisting in her chest lingered. “No. Just making sure it’s really... gone.”

David gave her a half-smile, his dark eyes flicking back toward the room before returning to her. “Trust me. If it wasn’t, you’d know.”

The oppressive weight in her chest hadn’t lifted, but at least she could breathe again. David walked beside her, his usual teasing arrogance softened into something more approachable.

“Never a dull moment, huh?” he said, flashing her a small, crooked grin.

She rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked upward despite herself. “Yeah. Thrilling.”

With a resigned sigh, Kith stepped fully into the hallway, her boots crunching over splintered wood and debris. The building groaned faintly, as though it had been wounded by the events that had unfolded within its walls.

The journey back to Astrea’s felt endless, the aftermath of the exorcism pressing down on Kith like a lead blanket. She clenched her fists to stop them from trembling, her nails biting into her palms. Her damp hair clung to her neck, and the faint burn of adrenaline lingered in her veins, refusing to let her fully unwind.

The car’s engine hummed steadily as Felonia drove, her focus unwavering as the city’s rain-slick streets blurred past. David sat in the passenger seat, one arm casually slung over the backrest while the other toyed with the ash-streaked cuffs of his shirt. Kith sat in the back, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared out the window.

“You’re quiet,” David said, his tone light but probing.

Kith didn’t turn her head. “Just tired.”

David’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, catching her reflection. “You’re always tired after these. It’s not just that, is it?”

Felonia cut in before Kith could respond, her tone wry. “It’s called having a soul, David. Something you’re only loosely acquainted with.”

David chuckled. “I’ll have you know my soul and I are on excellent terms.” He glanced at Kith again, this time more serious. “Still. Something’s eating at you.”

Kith sighed, her fingers tightening against her arms. “It’s nothing new. Just the usual existential crisis after watching a kid lose their life to something they never asked for.”

David leaned back, his expression softening. “It doesn’t get easier, you know. You just learn how to carry it differently.”

Felonia’s sharp laugh broke the tension. “Spoken like someone who’s pretending to be wise. He means you compartmentalize until it eats you alive, Kith.”

“Thanks for that, Fel,” David muttered.

“Anytime,” she shot back.

"Play fair, is that a compass in your nature? Or are you tricky?

Cause I've been there And baby, I don't need to learn my lesson twice."

David walked beside her, unnervingly composed, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. Every few steps, she felt his eyes on her—measuring, calculating, watching.

“Alright, spit it out,” he said, breaking the silence.

“What?” Her voice came out sharper than she intended, more defensive.

“Whatever’s got you wound tighter than wire,” he replied, his tone maddeningly calm.

Kith’s steps faltered for half a second before she pressed on, her gaze fixed ahead. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

David scoffed, his curls bouncing slightly as he tilted his head in disbelief. “You’re a terrible liar, Little Witch.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered, her voice low but clipped.

“Too bad.” He sidestepped in front of her, forcing her to stop. His posture was casual, but his sharp gaze betrayed his persistence. “You look like you’re about to implode. If you’re gonna lose it, at least warn me so I can duck.”

Kith glared up at him, her hazel eyes blazing with frustration. “You think this is funny?”

“I think you’re carrying a lot for one person,” he said, his voice low, the teasing edge softening into something steadier. “You don’t have to.”

Her laugh came bitter and sharp. “And who else will? You?”

David’s jaw tensed, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something unreadable. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You act like none of this touches you,” she snapped, stepping closer, her exhaustion spilling over into anger. “Like it’s just another job, another day. How can you not care? That boy—his family—”

“Kith,” he interrupted, his voice cutting through her rising anger like a blade. “Stop.”

“No!” Her voice rose, trembling with raw emotion as she took another step forward. She was close enough now to see the faint glow behind his eyes, barely contained beneath his calm facade. “You make it look so easy, like you’re above all of it. But you’re not. You can’t be.”

David’s hand shot out, gripping her waist—not tightly, but firmly enough to root her in place. His gaze locked onto hers, and the usual glint of mischief in his expression was replaced by something darker, heavier.

“I care more than you think,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, near her ear. “But caring too much in this job? That’s what gets people killed.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the heat between them shifting from anger to something she couldn’t quite name. She wanted to pull away, to fire back, but the intensity in his gaze froze her in place.

The moment stretched unbearably long, charged with unspoken tension, until a voice shattered it like glass.

“Am I interrupting something, or is this foreplay?” Felonia’s dry tone cut through the air, breaking the spell.

Kith took his hand out of her waist, stepping back quickly. David turned to face Felonia with an exaggerated sigh, his smirk returning with practiced ease.

“Don’t you ever make yourself known?” he asked, his tone exasperated but tinged with amusement.

“I’d hate to ruin your moment,” Felonia replied smoothly, brushing past them toward the debrief room. “They are waiting. Better get in there before they decide to make you their chew toy.”

David glanced back at Kith, his expression unreadable. “You good?”

She nodded stiffly, avoiding his gaze. “Let’s just get this over with.”

As they followed Felonia into the room, Kith couldn’t shake the weight of David’s words—or the lingering heat of his hand on her waist. She clenched her fists again, her nails digging into her palms to ground herself.

Somnus and Furious were already seated, their presence as oppressive as ever. Somnus lounged with a lazy grace, his sharp eyes glinting with amusement as they entered. Furious sat rigid, his sharp features carved into a perpetual scowl.

“Late,” Furious growled, his voice low and biting.

“Fashionably,” David quipped, sliding into a seat with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Kith followed silently, sitting straighter than she felt, her exhaustion threatening to pull her down. Felonia took her seat beside Kith, her expression calm but watchful.

Mikael entered moments later, his piercing gaze sweeping the room before landing on Kith.

“Well?” he asked, his tone coldly efficient.

Kith swallowed hard, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “The exorcism was successful. The parents are safe, but the boy…” Her words faltered, the memory of his hollow eyes flashing before her. “The boy didn’t survive. The entity left a mark. On the house, and—” She hesitated. “Possibly on me.”

“Residual energy?” Furious snorted. “On you? What a surprise. Humanity’s greatest weakness: fragility.”

David’s chair scraped loudly as he sat upright. “Don’t start,” he said, his voice dangerously low.

“Enough,” Mikael said sharply, silencing the room. His gaze lingered on Kith. Mikael studied her for a long moment before nodding.

Kith bristled, the condescension sparking a flare of defiance. “I’m not fragile,” she said, her tone sharper than she intended. “i’m human, and the only one capable of feeling something inside this room.” Kith straightened, summoning a strength she wasn’t sure she had. “With respect, I’ve earned my place. And the people we help deserve someone who cares.”

“Careful now, human,” Somnus chuckled darkly. “Admirable. But care won’t protect you when things turn... unsavory.”

Furious leaned closer, his looming presence meant to intimidate. “This isn’t your world, girl. You’re chasing shadows with creatures who’ll devour you the second you falter.”

"You’ve shown resilience, Kith," Somnus began, his tone deceptively soothing. "But humanity is fragile. Are you certain this is where you belong?"

David’s gaze snapped to Somnus, but Kith spoke before he could. “I can handle myself.” The tension was suffocating, an invisible thread pulled taut between them. Kith’s heart pounded, but she refused to look away. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

“Clearly,” Furious said, leaning back with a smirk. “Such confidence for someone so…new. But tell me, Kith, how much of your humanity are you willing to lose before you realize this world isn’t meant for you?” His demeanor was always measured, his words laced with subtle encouragement that bordered on manipulation.

Her breath caught, the words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit.

“That’s enough,” Across the table, Mikael’s coldly kind gaze settled on her like frost creeping over glass.

Kith clenched her fists beneath the table, refusing to look away.

“Let’s hope you continue to prove yourself,” Mikael added, his gaze shifting to David. “And David, make sure that your… distractions don’t jeopardize the team.”

David’s jaw tightened, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the table.

“I’m sure Kith will rise to the occasion,” Felonia interjected smoothly, her tone a perfect blend of support and sarcasm.

“Dismissed,” Mikael said.

As his attention shifted to the next report, Kith felt David’s hand brush against hers beneath the side table—a fleeting touch, but grounding nonetheless.

“I need someone to hold me close, deeper than I've ever known,

Whose love feels like a rodeo, knows just how to take control.

When I'm vulnerable, he's straight-talking to my soul,

Conversation overload, got me feeling vertigo.”

When the door clicked shut, the silence was deafening. David turned to her, his gaze burning with a mixture of frustration and something she couldn’t quite name. “You didn’t need to say anything.”

“Yes, I did,” Kith replied, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

Their eyes locked, unspoken words hanging heavy in the charged air. The space between them felt narrower, the tension almost tangible—a dangerous dance of what could be and what shouldn’t.

The hallway seemed to close in around her as Kith trailed behind David. The air was thick, oppressive, and her emotions churned dangerously close to the surface. She wanted to scream, punch something—or someone—but her hands only trembled at her sides.

David slowed, glancing over his shoulder before pausing to let her catch up. “Don’t let them get to you,” he said, his voice softer than she expected.

“Easy for you to say,” she shot back, her frustration slipping into her tone. “You’re used to it.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her fully, his expression hardening. “And you think I like it?”

“I think you don’t care,” she said, her voice trembling with unfiltered frustration.

David stepped closer, his dark eyes boring into hers, their usual teasing glint replaced with something raw and unwavering. “I care,” he said, his tone quiet but firm.

He studied her for a moment longer, his jaw tight as though holding back words that might unravel them both. Finally, he exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his dark curls, a rare gesture of unease breaking through his composed facade.

“You should’ve let me handle it,” he muttered, his voice quieter now but brimming with restrained emotion.

Kith’s hands trembled slightly, but she clenched them into fists. “I don’t need a shield, David. I need to prove I belong here.”

“And what if proving it gets you killed?” The words came out harsher than he intended, and regret flickered across his face almost instantly.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” she shot back, her tone biting but laced with fragility beneath the defiance.

“Barely.” He stepped closer again, his presence overwhelming but not unwelcome. “You don’t get it, do you? They’re not going to stop until you break or—”

“Or what?” she challenged, tilting her chin up defiantly.

He hesitated, his gaze softening as he searched her face. “Or until they convince you that you’re not enough.”

The words hung heavy between them, raw and unfiltered. They struck a chord deep inside her, one she had fought tirelessly to silence.

“I won’t give them that satisfaction,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “I did just fine after everything that happened.”

“I wouldn’t exactly use the word… ‘fine,’” he said, his lips twitching in almost-amusement.

David took another step closer, close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him. His voice dropped lower, almost a murmur. “You shouldn’t have to fight this hard to prove your worth, Kith. Not to them. Not to anyone.”

Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, the proximity making her heart race in ways she couldn’t control. “And yet, here I am.”

His gaze lingered, tracing her features as though memorizing every detail. For a moment, it felt like the world outside the hallway didn’t exist—no superiors, no impossible missions, just the two of them standing on the edge of something unspoken.

He enveloped her in his arms, as if he could make all the doubts and fears inside her burst and go away. His lips lingering on her forehead.

“Are you somebody who can go there? ’Cause I don't wanna have to show ya”

Before either of them could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, shattering the moment. David stepped back, the charged air dissipating like a burst bubble, and Kith let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

The door creaked open, and Felonia entered, her sharp gaze flicking between them. Her expression was tired but tinged with amusement. “You guys alright?”

“No,” David said quickly, his voice a little too casual as he straightened. “What is it?”

Felonia raised a brow but didn’t press. “They won’t be back for a while, so we have the night to rest.”

David nodded, his usual composure snapping back into place like armor.

“Cause training season’s over.”

Kith stayed rooted to the spot, her mind a whirlwind of unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. As they started walking down the corridor, she couldn’t help but glance at David. His expression was unreadable, but his hand brushed hers briefly—a fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt through her.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind her that whatever existed between them wasn’t one-sided.

Her breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze pulling her in like a magnet.

“Why do you care so much?” she whispered, hating the vulnerability in her voice but unable to keep it hidden.

David’s hand brushed hers again, this time lingering a fraction longer, his touch light but electric. “Because someone has to,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

His words sent a ripple through her chest, cracking through her defenses with startling ease. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words tangled in her throat.

As they walked in silence, side by side, the space between them felt impossibly small, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down like a storm waiting to break.

After a much-needed hot bath and a few days of rest, the team gathered in Mikael’s office. The air was thick with unease as Mikael flipped through the file on his desk, his coldly calm demeanor unwavering. When his gaze landed on Kith, it softened—barely, but enough to be noticed.

“This one will test your resolve,” Mikael said, sliding the file across the table. “A series of disappearances tied to a remote church. Reports suggest…” He paused, his eyes flicking to David, “…that the cult is moving again.”

Kith stiffened at the mention, her pulse quickening as dread curled in her stomach.

David immediately stepped closer to her, his jaw tightening as his protective instincts surged. “What do they want with her now?” he asked, his voice low and edged with danger.

“This isn’t about Kith,” Mikael replied firmly, though his tone carried an unspoken warning for David to control his temper. “Not directly, anyway. But the possibility of overlap cannot be ignored.”

Felonia, leaning casually against the wall, broke the tension with a wry remark. “Sounds like a cozy reunion. Hope you’re ready, Kith.”

Kith managed a small smile, grateful for Felonia’s attempt to lighten the mood, even if it did little to ease the knot in her chest. “I’m ready,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

David exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

She glanced at him, their eyes meeting for a brief, charged moment before Mikael’s voice cut through the air.

“Somnus and Furious will oversee this mission closely,” Mikael said, his tone hardening. His disdain for his superiors was subtle but evident in the slight tightness of his jaw. “I expect nothing less than perfection.”

David’s gaze darkened. “Of course, they’d swoop in now to take credit for the mess they ignored.”

“Watch your tone, David,” Mikael warned, though there was a trace of amusement in his voice.

David smirked but didn’t respond. As he moved to leave, his hand brushed against Kith’s arm, a subtle but reassuring gesture.

“I hope it hits me like an arrow

Someone with some potential”

The hallway outside Mikael’s office was quiet, save for the soft click of boots against polished stone. Kith stayed close to David, her mind racing as she processed the assignment. She knew what it meant to face the cult again, even tangentially. The memories it stirred were ones she tried to keep buried.

“Don’t overthink it,” David said, his voice low as they walked.

“Easier said than done,” she replied, her lips tightening into a thin line.

He stopped just outside the doors leading to the garage and turned to her. “It’s not going to be like last time, Kith.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened, but his tone was firm. “Because I won’t let it be.” Hir arms casually sneaking around her.

Felonia’s voice broke through the moment. “You two coming, or should I give you more time to stare meaningfully at each other?”

David rolled his eyes, gesturing for Kith to follow. “Let’s go, Little Witch.”

The engine hummed softly as the car navigated the rain-slick streets. The rhythm of the windshield wipers matched the tension inside the vehicle, steady but relentless.

Kith sat beside Felonia in the back seat, her thoughts heavy with what lay ahead. Every now and then, her gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, where David’s reflection met hers. His expression was unreadable, but his presence grounded her in a way she couldn’t explain.

Felonia, ever observant, broke the silence with her usual bluntness. “You two should just kiss already and save the rest of us the agony of enduring your will-they-won’t-they nonsense.”

Kith’s face burned as she sat upright. “Felonia!”

David, entirely unbothered, glanced back with a lazy grin. “Jealous, Fel?”

“Of you? Please.” Felonia smirked, leaning back in her seat. “Just figure it out before one of you explodes.”

Kith huffed and crossed her arms, glaring out the window. But David’s low chuckle slid under her defenses, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

“Noted,” he said, his voice rich with amusement.

As the car slowed, the mood shifted. The joking dissipated like fog in the morning sun, replaced by a sharp focus. David straightened, his shoulders tense.

When the car stopped, he turned slightly to face Kith, his expression serious. “Stay close to me. I mean it this time.”

“I don’t need—”

“You need your independence, I know,” he interrupted gently, though his tone left no room for argument. “But if I lose sight of you for even a second…” His dark eyes locked onto hers, burning with intensity. His hand touched her face briefly. “I’m not letting anything happen to you, Kith.”

The car doors slammed shut in unison, the sound sharp in the cold air. The church loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the overcast sky. Its ancient stone walls, cracked and weathered, seemed to lean inward as if guarding their secrets.

The faint sound of chanting drifted through the air, sending a chill down Kith’s spine. It was barely audible, but it clawed at her senses, stirring memories she wasn’t ready to face.

David stayed close, his movements deliberate and protective, his body taut like a drawn bowstring. Felonia led the way, her sharp gaze sweeping the area.

“This place reeks of desperation,” Felonia muttered, her voice low and biting. “They’re hiding something.”

“They always are,” David replied, his tone clipped.

Kith followed, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt David’s presence like a shield at her side, his protective energy both comforting and stifling.

Inside, the air was thick and suffocating, heavy with an unseen pressure that seemed to press down on them from all sides. The chanting grew louder, echoing off the cold stone walls in rhythmic waves. Kith pressed a hand to her temple as her head swam.

David noticed immediately, his hand brushing her elbow. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, though her voice betrayed her uncertainty.

“Stay close,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

Felonia moved ahead, her dagger glinting faintly in the dim light. The source of the chanting loomed just beyond a massive, rotting wooden door.

She paused, glancing back at the group. “Ready?”

David’s eyes flicked to Kith, his jaw tightening as his hand instinctively rested on his weapon. “Let’s get this over with.”

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room. Figures cloaked in red knelt in a circle around a sigil carved into the stone floor, its grooves filled with blood that glistened ominously in the candlelight. The flickering flames cast eerie, distorted shadows across their hooded faces, making them appear otherworldly.

The chanting stopped abruptly as the group entered, the air thick with tension. Slowly, the figures rose to their feet in unison, their movements unnervingly synchronized. One of them stepped forward, their face hidden beneath their hood.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” the figure rasped, their voice distorted and inhuman, echoing unnaturally in the enclosed space.

David stepped in front of Kith without hesitation, his body a solid barrier between her and the threat. “Funny, I was about to say the same to you.”

The figure tilted its head, as if scrutinizing him, then turned its attention to Kith. She froze as their gaze seemed to pierce through her, heavy and invasive. Her stomach churned with unease, her fingers curling into fists at her sides.

“You,” they said, their voice dripping with malice. “He remembers you... He wants you.” The figure moved a step closer, their presence oppressive. “He’ll come back for you….”

Kith’s breath caught, the words striking her like a physical blow. Memories she had fought to bury clawed their way to the surface: the rhythmic chanting, the cold stone floor beneath her, the overwhelming scent of blood, and the suffocating terror.

David’s expression darkened, his grip tightening around his weapon. His voice was a low, dangerous growl. “You don’t get to look at her.”

The figure laughed, a hollow and echoing sound that sent a shiver through the room. “You can’t protect her from everything, demon.”

“Watch me,” David said, stepping forward, his movements deliberate and controlled, like a predator stalking its prey.

Before the figure could respond, Felonia’s dagger sliced through the air, embedding itself in their chest. The force knocked them back, their body convulsing as an unnatural scream ripped through the room.

The silence shattered as chaos erupted.

The cloaked figures surged forward in unison, their movements unnaturally fast, blurring as they closed the distance.

David reacted immediately, grabbing Kith and pulling her behind him as his blade flashed in the dim light. The first figure lunged at him, their hands claw-like and unnervingly long, but David sidestepped effortlessly. With a fluid motion, he slashed upward, severing the arm cleanly. The figure dissolved into black smoke with a guttural hiss.

“Kith!” Felonia shouted, tossing a blade her way. “You’re not sitting this one out!”

Kith caught the weapon, her fingers trembling but tightening around the hilt. She had no time to think before one of the figures came at her, its movements jerky yet impossibly fast.

The figure swung at her with unnatural strength, but Kith ducked, narrowly avoiding the blow. Instinctively, she lashed out with the blade, the tip catching the figure’s side. Black ichor spilled from the wound as the figure howled, collapsing before dissolving into a cloud of mist.

She barely had time to process what she’d done when another attacker was on her.

David’s blade whirled in a deadly arc as he took on two figures simultaneously. One clawed at him, but he deflected the attack with his forearm, his blade finding its mark in their chest. As they evaporated into smoke, the second came at him from the side. David turned sharply, driving his knee into their torso before finishing them with a precise slash to the neck.

His eyes flicked to Kith, catching her hesitation as she faced her second opponent. “Good!” he called out, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Now keep doing that!”

Kith glared at him briefly but focused on the figure in front of her.

Felonia, meanwhile, was a blur of efficiency. She ducked and spun, her twin daggers slicing through cloaked figures with surgical precision. Her movements were almost dance-like, each strike calculated.

One figure tried to grab her from behind, but she twisted, driving her blade into their gut before kicking them away. “Pathetic,” she muttered, her lips curling into a smirk.

Kith’s second opponent lunged, their claws slashing the air inches from her face. She stepped back too quickly, stumbling over the uneven stone floor. The figure seized the opportunity, charging at her with startling speed.

Panic surged, but she gritted her teeth and swung her blade upward. It struck the figure’s shoulder, slicing through their cloak. The figure screamed, and for a moment, its hood slipped back, revealing a twisted, half-decayed face. Kith recoiled, her stomach lurching, but she pushed through the fear and stabbed again.

This time, the blade sank into the figure’s chest. It let out a final, unearthly screech before dissolving into smoke.

David dispatched another opponent with brutal efficiency before turning to check on Kith. His eyes swept over her, catching her shaking hands as she steadied herself. “Kith!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the din. “You’re doing fine! Stay sharp!”

Her chest heaved, but she nodded, gripping the blade tighter.

As the last few figures closed in, David and Felonia moved as a unit. She threw a dagger that struck one in the leg, dropping it to its knees, while David finished it with a downward slash.

The final attacker went for Kith, its claws outstretched. She braced herself, heart pounding, but before it could reach her, Felonia’s dagger sailed past, embedding itself in the figure’s throat.

It collapsed, the room falling eerily silent as the last of the black smoke dissipated.

The sigil on the floor pulsed faintly, the blood within it bubbling before evaporating into the air. Moments later, the carvings grew dull, leaving only scorched marks behind.

David turned to Kith, his expression unreadable as he took her in. She was breathing heavily, her hands and knees trembling as adrenaline coursed through her.

“You did well,” he said softly, stepping closer. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of her auburn hair from her face.

“Don’t patronize me,” she replied, though the words lacked venom.

His lips quirked into a faint smile. “I’m not. You’re tougher than you think.”

Felonia interrupted, her tone brisk and no-nonsense. “Save it for later. We’ve got bigger problems to deal with.”

David shot her a look but didn’t argue. Instead, he reached down to help Kith to her feet, his hand lingering on hers a moment longer than necessary.

“We’re not done here,” he murmured, his dark eyes locking onto hers.

“I know,” she replied, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

“I need someone to hold me close, deeper than I've ever known Whose love feels like a rodeo, knows just how to take control”

Fel’s boots echoed faintly down the stone corridor as she exited the chamber. She muttered something about needing to call Mikael, dragging her dagger lightly along the wall as she disappeared into the shadows. Despite her tough demeanor, Kith suspected Felonia had intentionally left to give them a moment alone.

Kith remained rooted in place, her breath still uneven as she processed the chaos that had unfolded. The weight of it all bore down on her, leaving her unable to move just yet.

“You’re staying?” David’s voice broke the silence, low and smooth but carrying a trace of concern.

She looked up to find him watching her, his broad frame silhouetted against the flickering candlelight. That look—piercing yet unreadable—always left her feeling exposed, as though he could see every thought she tried to bury.

“I just need a minute,” she admitted softly, her voice betraying her exhaustion.

David nodded and stepped closer. “Take all the time you need.”

He didn’t leave. Instead, he leaned back against one of the cracked stone pillars, his sharp eyes never leaving her.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she said, trying to sound indignant, but it came out tired.

“I’m not babysitting,” he replied, a slow, teasing grin spreading across his face. “I just like the view.”

She rolled her eyes, but despite herself, a small smile tugged at her lips. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re stalling,” he countered, pushing off the pillar. His boots crunched against the ash and debris scattered across the floor as he walked toward her.

Her back met the cool surface of the altar before she realized she’d taken a step back. The ancient carvings pressed against her palms, their sharp edges oddly grounding.

“You’re too tense,” David murmured, stopping just a breath away from her.

She raised an eyebrow, trying to deflect. “And you’re too close.”

He didn’t move, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “Am I?”

The tension between them was electric, thick with unspoken words and a shared vulnerability neither could fully deny. Kith’s pulse quickened, her breath catching as David reached up, his fingers brushing lightly along her jawline.

“This place,” he began, his voice a low rumble, “it’s heavy. But you? You’re… light. Even when you don’t want to be.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected softness in his words. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

His smirk was faint but genuine. “I could never insult you, Little Witch,” he said, his hand still cradling her face.

Her retort died on her lips as he leaned in, his other hand resting against the stone beside her. The heat of him was intoxicating, his presence a mixture of danger and comfort that both unsettled and grounded her.

“We shouldn’t,” she whispered, though her voice betrayed her resolve.

“Probably not,” he agreed, his tone low and unhurried, “but here we are.”

When his lips met hers, it was as though the world beyond the stone walls ceased to exist. The kiss was fire and defiance, a breaking of the tension that had simmered between them for too long.

Kith’s hands found their way to his shoulders, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor herself. David’s arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer. The weight of the altar against her back grounded her, but the heat radiating from him set her senses alight.

“This is reckless,” she murmured against his lips, though she didn’t move to pull away.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he replied, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.

Kith let out a soft laugh, her forehead pressing against his as they both caught their breath.

“You’ve been running from this since the moment we met,” David said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. His hand on the stone slid down to lightly rest against her hip. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Her heart thudded against her ribs, his words stirring something she wasn’t ready to name. “I’m not running,” she whispered.

“Then stop pretending,” he challenged gently, his lips brushing hers again, softer this time, almost hesitant.

For a few stolen minutes, there was no war, no mission, no cult to dismantle—only them. Kith felt her walls cracking under the weight of the unspoken, the connection between them raw and undeniable.

David pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression unguarded for once. His hand lingered at her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked, his voice hoarse with restraint.

“For once,” she whispered back, her fingers trailing down his arm, “I’m not thinking.”

He exhaled a soft laugh, his forehead resting against hers. “Good,” he murmured, stealing another quick kiss.

The ancient carvings beneath her hands seemed to hum faintly, a reminder of where they were. The altar, the mission, the shadows beyond the door—all of it lingered on the edge of her awareness, but for now, she let it fade. The stone altar felt almost alive beneath her, its energy mingling with her own, amplified by the connection between them. For David, it was more than desire; it was worship. In that moment, she wasn’t just human—she was everything.

“I’ve been waiting for so long.”

“You’ve thought about us?” she whispered, her voice unsteady, her breath catching.

David’s lips curved into a sly grin against hers, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down her spine. “Every night, Little Witch,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “You’ve been bewitching my thoughts since the moment you walked through the agency’s door.”

His hands gripped her hips firmly, his thumbs tracing small, reassuring circles that sent her pulse racing. “Ever since that day in the corridor…” His words trailed off as his lips pressed softly against her neck, lingering just long enough to leave a mark, a silent claim. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

Her breath hitched as a quiet confession spilled from her lips. “Me neither,” she admitted, her voice barely audible but filled with raw desire.

David’s gaze snapped to hers, the flickering candlelight catching the intensity in his dark eyes. For a moment, it felt as though the room, the mission, the world itself had faded away, leaving only the two of them.

Her body leaned into his touch, her resolve melting under the weight of her emotions. For once, she didn’t hold back, letting herself be fully present in this moment. Her body, her soul, completely ready to be taken, to be his.

Time seemed irrelevant, but the faint sound of hurried footsteps in the corridor dragged them back to reality.

David was the first to pull away, though his hands lingered at her hips, his touch grounding her even as he exhaled heavily. His lips were swollen, his usually composed demeanor replaced by a rare, crooked smile that carried a hint of triumph. “We’re definitely in trouble now,” he said, his voice laced with satisfaction as he reached for his suit.

Kith’s laugh was soft but unsteady, her fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as if to confirm that this wasn’t some fleeting dream. “You think?”

Before he could respond, Felonia’s voice sliced through the air like a whip, echoing from the corridor with sharp, unimpressed authority. “David! Kith! If you’re done with whatever unholy nonsense you’re doing in there, Mikael is about five seconds from sending someone to fetch you. And trust me—none of us want that.”

David groaned, his smirk slipping into an exaggerated eye roll.

Kith bit her lip, fighting back a laugh as she shook her head. “We should—”

“Face the music?” he interrupted, pulling her close for one last lingering kiss.

When he pulled back, his expression softened, his thumb brushing tenderly over her cheek. His voice dropped, low and steady. “Whatever comes next, we’ll handle it.”

She nodded, her heart still racing, but there was a new steadiness in her resolve. Together, they adjusted their disheveled appearances—straightening clothes, brushing off ash and dust—before stepping away from the altar. Kith’s gaze lingered on the ancient carvings, a flicker of something unreadable in her hazel eyes before she turned and followed David out.

The moment they stepped into the hallway, Fel was waiting, leaning casually against the wall with her arms crossed. Her sharp gaze scanned them, her raised eyebrow conveying all the judgment they deserved.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” she said dryly, her tone hovering between exasperation and amusement. “Mikael’s waiting, and Somnus and Furious are already sharpening their claws.”

David shrugged off her critique with ease, sliding an arm around Kith’s waist as they walked past her. “Let them try. I’ve always enjoyed a good fight.”

Kith rolled her eyes but leaned into him, finding unexpected comfort in the casual way he held her. Despite everything—the mission, the tension, the unknown waiting for them—she felt steadier now, like she could face anything with him at her side.

Felonia fell into step beside them, her boots clicking rhythmically on the stone floor. Her sharp gaze darted between the two of them, suspicion and amusement mingling on her face. “You two are insufferable, you know that?”

David’s grin widened. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Fel.”

“Shut up, David,” she shot back, though her lips twitched as if holding back a smile.

The trip back to Astrea was calm but taut with tension, the silence in the vehicle punctuated only by the hum of the engine. Kith sat beside David, their hands brushing briefly before she let hers fall away, her thoughts already racing toward what waited for them.

Felonia kept her eyes on the road, her expression unreadable, though Kith could sense the gears turning behind her calm exterior.

David broke the silence first, his voice steady but light. “What’s the over-under on Furious losing his temper within the first five minutes?”

Felonia snorted. “Generous estimate. He’ll last two, tops.”

Kith smiled faintly but said nothing, her focus on the horizon as Astrea’s towering silhouette came into view.

When they arrived, the weight of the mission returned, heavier than before. Kith took a deep breath, her fingers brushing against David’s arm for the briefest of moments before falling back to her side. His eyes flicked to her, offering a reassuring nod.

Whatever awaited them beyond those towering doors—Mikael’s cold disappointment, Somnus’ manipulative games, or Furious’ fiery condemnation—she knew they’d face it together.

As they stepped inside, the faint warmth of David’s presence beside her was enough to remind her that, for the first time in a long time, she didn’t have to carry the weight alone.

[bleaksqueak]

Since I posted some of my old fanart yesterday... if you're not familiar with Slayers, and thus have never heard its amazing music, do check it out. It's largely by the same songwriter, Masami Okui, that did Utena's iconic opening (Rinbu Revolution) and ofc (TRUTH) and sung by a duo of her and Hayashibara Megumi (you know, the GOAT)

The entire OST pretty much slaps. there's only a couple of bad image songs in an absolute expanse of pure gold. GIVE A REASON, the opening to the second season, tends to be the reigning favorite. (I've a hard time pinning down my absolute favorite... of the original openings, it might be Breeze, but all three are so good. Of the entire catalog? Impossible to choose. Midnight Blue, Raging Waves, Within my Unlimited Desires, Gloria, Get Along... Impossible Choice)

[beccawise7]

Few things are as beautiful as two souls drawn to one another.

~beccawise7💜🖤

🎶🎵 ~ Woman, Emmit Fenn

[wormthing]

I redrew my redraw of the J&H album cover on animal jam, but sadly the updated version was rejected.... ::-(

(Top is new, bottom is old from about 2017)

[cheriekos]

no context these songs remind me of these dc characters:

bruce:

kon (blue foster in general makes me think of kon)

core four:

TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE: