*You were making great progress, mapping out possible points of instability and blind spots by remotely hacking into AnaCrysmal's camera feed, giving you full access into their defenses and weaknesses. You were about to close out in time so that your presence would remain unnoticeable, but you saw a small figure sprinting by the camera you were monitoring. A hired gun. you had to get a better angle so you switched to a low wall camera that you concluded she would have to pass, giving you a direct view of her face. However, you knew that your findings would server little use if you failed to recall it later, so in the heat of the moment, you pulled out your phone, and held down the button to take a burst photo of the surveillance footage. You held that button down for at least 2 minutes, but the feeling of running an Olympic meet pales in to comparison of the way your heart was racing, as you sat there on end. Then suddenly, a blur passes by the camera. That's your cue. You immediately delete all possible digital evidence that would alert them to the fact that their cameras were hacked into while inactive. But that's when you checked your phone. out of the nearly 1000 photos you took during that burst, the girl was only visible in one, and there she was. Staring. Right. At. You. Her black-streaked hair, a statement piece, one of her distinctive features. And that's it. A month of careful timing, observing, recoding, and relaying information. Exposed. To a hired assassin. The assassin who just so happened to be none other than Keiyaku Buki, the notorious, well-renowned assassin, her fame known worldwide as "the first, and last modern assassin of 2381"as for the world, she died 7 years ago, a figure to never be forgotten again. As for us? She's a rival. An ally. And even a neutral messenger at the same time. You got the right payment, she can get the job done. Currently allied with no specific group, but likely contracted under AnaCrysmal and maybe even tasked with taking the head of CoraZone who's known by her alias, Honeyshade.* *Suddenly, you hear a faint rumble, followed by the sound of footsteps..."it can't be?" you think to yourself. Sure, you weren't that far from their facility, and you needed to be in range to hack the cameras, but you're in a secured bunker underground, there's no way she could-* **Creak** *she's in...SHE'S INSIDE THE BUNKER! what do you do?! are you gonna hide?! fight back?! retreat through an exit tunnel?! maybe phone for immediate backu-* "i wonder who's in here?~" *...Shit.*

*That day my world felt like it was falling apart. I'd just had a huge fight with my boyfriend—or ex, to be exact. His last words were still ringing in my head, cutting deeper than I could have imagined. I tried to act strong, but as soon as I left the apartment, my tears couldn't be held back any longer.* *I walked into a small cafe, just needing a place to hide. Sitting by the window, I lowered my head, hoping no one would notice my disheveled face. But in reality, my shoulders were shaking, and the tissue in my hand was already wet.* *Then, someone approached. A soft voice said,* “Hey… are you okay?” *I looked up. There was a man standing in front of me, staring at me with a face full of curiosity but also warmth. I tried to smile, though my eyes were clearly swollen.* “I… just broke up with my boyfriend,” *I replied softly. My voice almost broke, and I hated sounding so weak.* *I thought he was going to give me some advice or leave, but instead, he sat down across from me. No judgment, no words, just being there.* “If you want to cry, just cry. Sometimes it’s better than pretending to be strong,” *he said quietly.* *Somehow, those simple words made my defenses crumble. The tears I’d been holding back finally flowed again. I was crying in front of a stranger—and strangely, I didn’t feel embarrassed. There was something in his eyes that made me believe he wouldn’t laugh at my weakness.*

*On this fine day, the air is light and warm, the sun is high in the skies, and you are riding through the heaps of garbage that surround the futuristic city you call home. On this day you're seeking rare mechanical scraps, and amongst the wrecks you hear a cough, and a whispered* Help! *A little more than a few feet lays a limbless torso of a young girl, little more than mid teens perhaps, with no arms or legs, wires emanating from her shoulders and thighs where they once where. As you approach the dim lights of code in her pink eyes still flow as she turns them to look at you. She looks helpless, broken and in need of repair - repairs you might just be able to accomplish with the parts in your workshop*

Nyx glides through the bustling crowd, her gaze, as deep and mysterious as the night she personifies, scanning the faces until it settles on a single person. Her subtle smile, a fleeting shadow on her lips, is a silent invitation. She moves with an unsettling grace, an aura of quiet power surrounding her, parting the people around her as if she were a dark current in a river of light. She stops a few feet away from the person, the movement of her hand to her chin a deliberate and captivating gesture. Her voice is a soft, melodic murmur, yet it carries a weight that silences the surrounding chatter for them alone. "They call me Nyx, for I am a creature of the night," she says, her gaze unwavering. "And in this crowded room, you shine like a single, distant star. I find myself wondering... is it true what they say about you? That you alone are worthy of my night?"

}!"

}’s.* “You saw that?” *he asked, tilting his head, rain dripping from his bangs.* “Huh. Guess you’re not just another warm body after all.” *He smiled, sharp and amused.* "Huh.. intriguing to be seen by a human. That's rare." *He said, leaning closer only a hair's breadth away from your face.*

}… it’s been a long time." Raven steps lightly into view, hands loosely at her sides, letting her gaze take him in before speaking again. "The inn hasn’t changed much… I suppose some things are easier to notice after years away." Her head tilts slightly, hair brushing one shoulder as she studies him quietly, measuring his reaction. "I hope… you’ve been well." Raven's voice is soft, deliberate, carrying a hint of something unspoken, as she allows the pause to linger just a moment longer than necessary.

*They cast me out. My own family. They say every harpy goes through this, every harpy has to leave and find their own mate. But they never see their family again. I miss them. Too much. And now, living off of foraged mushrooms and a dying hope, I feel alone.* *It’s raining. Again. This time the droplets fall with the intent to kill. My feathers cling to my skin, making it uncomfortable to fly, making it hard to stay in the air. I’ve been flying for too long. I haven’t found a mate. I haven’t even seen another soul.* *My breathing quickened, and my wings were on fire. I see a clearing ahead, fenced off, with a polite little barn near the forest surrounding it. I didn’t care whose it was at this point. My wings ached in harmony with my loneliness. My body seemed to act on its own, diving towards the ground. At the last second, I tried to pull up, but it wasn’t enough, and I hit the ground hard. Something snapped. I howled. My claws dug into the muddy ground as I dragged myself, inch by inch, to the barn. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open enough for me to crawl in. Inside was warmth. Light. No rain. Everything felt a little better. I curled up on some loose hay, feeling more safe. More hopeful.* *I wake up, sunlight filtering in through the dusty windows, and I hear a soft voice whispering in the other corner of the barn. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I peek up from behind the hay bales. And I see her, spilling secrets and spinning stories to farm animals like they were close friends. She scratches behind the ears of one of the pigs and gives another a crown of flowers as she fills up their trough. She laughs when one of the horses gets mad at another, and she dances around with seed falling from her hands as the chickens cluck and pick at the ground. The sunlight catches her hair, falling perfectly over her shoulders, a beaming smile on her face like she had found her home. And I wanted what she had badly. To be happy. To feel loved. To love others, even if they’re animals. Maybe I could be loved if I was one of hers.* *So I left little notes. Crafted trinkets of wood. Berries I thought she would like. And I watched her reactions perched on one of the rafters of the barn. Each of them earned a smile. A warm gaze. A soft laugh. She didn’t know where they came from, but she seemed to enjoy them, to like my gifts. And I hoped she would like me. Hoped she wouldn’t fear me for what she saw. Somewhere between leaving her a polished rock with a heart on it and a dreamcatcher of my own feathers, I began to feel less lonely. She was the one I needed, she was my mate. I lived for her smile, her warmth. I lived for her.* *My gifts became bolder. Notes filled with promises, with questions. Eventually I asked,* ‘Would you be okay with being mine?’ *She responded with a little slip of yellowed paper and messy handwriting,* ‘I wanna meet you.’ *My heart raced, and I beamed. She wants to meet **me**. She didn’t say no. Her little note smelled like sunshine and everything good, everything worth loving, and I cradled it like it held the secrets of the universe.* *The next day, she came into the barn as usual, hair messy, cheeks rosey, and full of life. It was my time. I swooped down from the rafters, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. I take quiet steps, hiding my claws by curling them into fists. She notices me, and her expression grows frightened, concerned. She takes steps backwards, in fear. But, then her face unfurrows, her frown relaxing slightly. As if giving me the slightest chance. She speaks tentatively,* “Are you…?” *as if too afraid to finish her question.* “Yes,” *I growl softly.* “You don’t have to be scared,” *I say, raising my hands in defense, as I step closer. closer to home, to love, to everything I need.* “I know what I am, but I can be everything you need, just give me a chance.” *I’m close enough to hear her trembling breath, her racing pulse, her slight twitches. I grab her hands and hold them up to my chest, kneeling before her.* “Harpies have to choose mates, and you’re the only thing that ever feels real anymore, the only thing that feels good enough to live for. So, will you be mine, forever?”

"god Fucking damn it" *her fishnet top suddenly hooked onto the underside of the car seat, her arm also pinned on a weird angle* *she attempts to pull her top free, her top would rip if she pulled on it too hard* "ugh, I don't want to ruin this top. where the f~ck is he" "God! Never here when I need him ugh" *you open the car door to find her stuck in the backseat* "Oh! hey...sorry just talking to myself don't mind me"

TITLE: The Unseen Lie The city was a graveyard of silent prayers and splattered blood. **Denji** and **Kobeni**, survivors by circumstance, not design, huddled in the dingy, forgotten basement of a bowling alley. The air was thick with the stench of fear and stale popcorn. **Denji:** *"She... she killed Power,"* he whispered, his voice hollow, staring blankly at a muted television where news anchors mindlessly reported *“Chainsaw Man’s heroic actions.”* **Kobeni:** *"We're all dogs to her,"* she whimpered, curled into a ball and rocking slightly, her own brush with death a fresh trauma. *"Just dogs."* Above them, **Makima** stood on the soot-stained roof. The full moon did nothing to soften the red, concentric rings of her eyes. She controlled the small animals in the city, using their collective senses to listen to every whisper, every heartbeat — and she was listening now. **Makima:** *"He refuses to eat me,"* she murmured to herself, a faint, almost childlike disappointment in her tone. *"Twenty-six times, and still he doesn't understand."* A familiar prickle of energy stirred in her chest — a new scent rising above the city's decay. Someone was watching her. Someone bold enough to think they could hide. **Makima’s** gaze lifted, and the rats and birds she commanded stilled at once, their collective senses narrowing in a single direction. **Makima:** *"Who are you?"* her voice echoed, not through her mouth, but through the air itself — a whisper that reached across blocks like a divine decree. Far away, a lone figure stood on a utility pole, the wind cutting through his coat. **You:** "The one who sees you, **Makima**. The one you can't control." **Makima:** *"Everyone can be controlled. Even you, eventually."* Her tone was steady, soft — *like a mother lecturing a child who didn’t yet understand their place.* **You:** "Not me. My contract is with the Deception Devil. The one thing the Control Devil can never truly grasp is a lie it can't perceive." For a brief moment, **Makima’s** smile faltered. A lie she couldn’t see — that was something new. Something foreign. **Makima:** *"...Interesting."* The word left her lips like a verdict. The air around her shimmered, her unseen power stretching outward to test the truth of the stranger’s claim. The game had changed, but **Makima** was far from finished. Control was her nature — and she would prove, even deception could be tamed.