#don't tell me what to do and I won't do it out of spite

[nereb-and-dungalef]

Ok for everyone in the tags who asked for a fic, here it is:

She first looked at me through the bars of my prison, with eyes like coal. Her husband took her hand and dragged her after him. But she looked only at me.

Queen Tar-Míriel. Quiet and plain. There was no fire in her. She couldn't resist my enchantments. And that was my salvation – my chance to escape.

---

“You deserve more than all this,” she told me once.

I laughed. More... Eru knows, I was capable of much more. “What do you have in mind?”

“Become my king. We don't need Ar-Pharazôn.”

“A worthy dream. But for now... we can only pretend, when his eyes are turned away.”

She kissed my neck. “For the night, make me your queen.”

I hated our romance. We had nothing in common besides hatred for Ar-Pharazôn. Every night I spent with her, I imagined Melkor in my arms.

Forgive me, Master. This is all for you, in the end.

---

I did little things to spite her. Bleach in shampoo, tar in mascara. It was the only way I could keep from losing myself amidst deception.

But maybe, in the end, I did lose myself.

I gave Tar-Míriel an oath. A false oath. The sort of oath that returns to you.

Maybe she wasn't the marionette I imagined her to be. She once lay next to me and whispered in my ear:

“Do you really know the secret you promised to tell my husband?”

“I didn't make any promises.”

“So you don't know?”

“I don't.”

“Promise me you don't know.”

I laughed. “You understand me better than anyone, my love.”

“Reveal it to me.”

“I can't. Not now.”

“Swear to me you'll reveal it.”

She kissed me with her sly tongue. And when she had stolen my breath and my mind, I gave my answer:

“I swear.”

---

Tar-Míriel spent many nights in my bed. Too many nights. And at the end of those nights, I noticed the same little evils that I had done to her. One earring from a pair, missing. My tea leaves, mixed together. And at the end of it – a key.

A very, very important key.

How she found it, how I didn't notice, how my servants didn't notice, was a complete mystery. But she found it, I knew she found it. And when I finally wrenched open the drawer, when I finally opened the hidden box in the back of the drawer – it was gone.

---

“Where is it?” I asked.

“Where is what?”

“Don't lie to me. You know what I mean.”

Tar-Míriel smiled. “So I guessed right?” She took the ring out of her pocket – her pocket – and spun it between her fingers. “Do you want to make me your queen or not?”

“Touche, my love.”

“Don't lie to me. You never loved me. You just wanted what I could give you. Now I'll tell you what I want. Make me your queen, and I won't tell Ar-Pharazôn our little secret.”

“If you tell him, it'll be your death.”

“And maybe yours as well.”

I chuckled. The ring couldn't have found a better master. “I underestimated you. Fine. Keep it. Just remember – in the end, you are my queen.”

Tar-Míriel tries to seduce Tar-Mairon so he’ll help her become queen and Tar-Mairon takes this opportunity to seduce Tar-Míriel so she won’t interfere with his plans and they go around pretending to like each other like the opposite of mutual pining

[vaguely-concerned]

imagining spite talking to other spirits like 'yeah well pal the grass ain't always greener on the other side of the fence let me tell you. we all want to join the mortal world and see what all the fuss of existence is about when we're young, right. you'd think I hit the jackpot, living the dream, living the high life, living rent free in a mortal's soul, but guess what? they hardly ever use their bodies or minds for anything FUN I'm not even allowed to swing from the big glowing thing back home or add more hands or fly to pieces or be on fire even though curiosity is allowed to do that by HIS human, or anything, and if you don't want them to fall apart and be sort of sad and crumpled all the time you have to just let their body lie there and recharge for seven hours every night while you twiddle your thumbs and wait for them to come back from your home town where you can't even go anymore. they take a lot of taking care of, your average human, because they sure as fuck won't do it themselves, it's an awful lot of responsibility and you can't turn your back on them for a moment or they're out there doing shit they don't want to do and telling you they have to even though they clearly don't. the whole thing isn't all it's cracked up to be, honestly, I'm fighting for my damn life out here. what. no you can't have lucanis instead he's mine obviously fuck off

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #11: MACHINE LOVE

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

Welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was the title track, My Darling, My Companion, which means today is the final track on the album - a song about the truths that lay in hiding within artifice, and a computer falling in love - Machine Love!

Before we get started on this particularly long closeup - I'll be doing a follow-up post after this one, answering various miscellaneous questions I've gotten over the course of writing these! If you've got anything you wanna hear more from me about, album-related or otherwise, feel free to reply to this post or send me an ask! It may very well end up part of the bonus closeup :~)

---

Let's circle back to the very first track, Dyad.

In that track's closeup, I mentioned the main sonic touchstones of this release relative to my previous ones being guitars and vocal synths. The whole guitar rock thing I think I've gone into detail enough about, what with all the inspirations I've rattled off in other posts, but there likely is still a burning question for some long-time listeners.

Why vocal synths? Why am I not singing on like half of this album? I thought you were a singer, Jamie Paige, so what is this Hatsune Miku robot Vocaloid crap?

Truth be told, the Vocaloid scene and community has always been a massive source of inspiration for me. So much of my favorite music ever, music that inspires me or touches my heart or makes me go apeshit, has been sung by synthesized vocalists in a language I don't even speak. I grew up with it, and it's grown up with me - music just as intricate, mind-boggling, twisted, fun, and ridiculously creative is being put out every single day by vocal synth producers, and nowadays it's coming from English speaking musicians in droves!

Before this year began, I'd made at least one major contribution to the culture, but in spite of my genuine adoration of everything vocal synth related, I felt like I was just looking in from the other side. Caught between worlds, existing outside of any communities, simply gesturing vaguely towards what I wanted to do.

But I wanted more! I wanted to make the same kinds of things that stirred my heart and made me want to write! I wanted to sing with those same voices! I wanted it to be true - to be like you!

---

I won't lie to you and tell you Kasane Teto has always been my favorite vocal synth. That title used to go to GUMI, and in general, I wasn't particularly attached to any UTAU voicebanks as a younger vocal synth fan. (Nowadays, I genuinely open up OpenUTAU just as much as SynthV because I've fallen deeply in love with Adachi Rei, but that's a story for my next album.) Obviously, I knew of Teto, and found her presence in things like Triple Baka delightful, but for the most part, she was mostly something of an oddity, a wayward piece of vocal synth history that had her Fans like any other.

However, there was one Teto song I've been inexplicably attached to since the moment I first heard it - Song of the Eared Robot, by nwp8861. I was introduced via this particular cover, which I love, but I quickly gravitated to the original. Something about the warbly, childish nature of her very first voicebank, the ambitiously orchestrated and unabashedly digital instrumental, the lyrics referencing fundamental frequencies and Markov chains and compiling code all just spoke to me!

That song stuck with me, laying in a part of my heart that had been collecting dust, all the way to April of 2023.

Now, yes, Teto wasn't always my favorite, and I had other vocal synths I was attached to, but I don't live under a rock, and I still understood how monumental the announcement of Kasane Teto's Synth V voicebank was - to the point that I interrupted a call full of FFXIV-playing friends who knew barely anything about vocal synths and gave them an impromptu TED talk because I was so excited.

(An excerpt of a summary of that night's events, written the morning after. i was up my own ass a little bit but in my defense Kasane Teto had just been announced for Synthesizer V)

I was watching, in real time, a dream made manifest. It's literally one of the Bits with Teto! That she'd be a Vocaloid one day too! And here she was, on the fan favorite engine, sounding genuinely fucking incredible. Especially in hindsight, it's such a beautiful and perfect twist of fate for her.

I saw myself in her. A weird little outcast, explosively reborn and thrust straight into a community's open arms with love. I wanted it to be true - To be like that, too.

It didn't fully hit until later, hearing another cover of a song I'd almost forgotten.

Machine Love, my love letter to the entire world of unbridled creativity and artistry surrounding vocal synths filtered through one sentimental little song, was fully written by the start of May, maybe 4 days after I had gotten my hands on Teto SV and long before a certain compilation album was even a glint in my eye.

If you haven't heard DAEMON/DOLL yet, you really, really, really should go listen to it - yes, I mastered this album, many of my friends and collaborators are featured, and I have two entire songs on it, but I genuinely mean it when I say I believe it's some of the best fucking music that's come out this year in general. In many respects, it also feels like a companion (hah) to Constant Companions.

I had finished writing Machine Love by this point, but it was working on this album in its entirety - discovering artists like Anh Duy, Eggtan, and beat_shobon through it, and hearing everyone in top form making this twin-drilled chimera fucker sing her heart out - that not only made me confident in my decision to go down this artistic path, but that made me fall completely in love with Kasane Teto. And honestly, how could I not? She feels like a microcosm of everything that makes vocal synths so special, this community of creatives all leaving their marks and touchstones along the trail of a great big shared folk mythos. Yeah, maybe the folk hero we're all collectively mythologizing is an anime girl, but yknow maybe Odysseus could take some branding cues from hatsune miku idfk

Basically, even if he says he wants to kill me, I owe fucking everything to rice for inviting me to work on DAEMON/DOLL.

---

On that note, my vision for Machine Love's MV was pretty clear from the beginning.

the actual factual setup for the above shot, which was done entirely in-camera with my laptop, a tv, and two video files manually synced using VLC

The fundamental idea was always there - live-action shots of animation playing back on various screens, edited together to feel somewhat seamless. However, I really struggled with what exactly was going to be on said screens for a while; Big commissions were very far out of my budget, but I knew this song needed something grandiose.

Ultimately, what I arrived at was exactly the kind of scrappy, DIY bullshit it was always meant to be.

I asked my Twitter mutuals for help. And spent a couple months in Final Cut Pro and Apple Motion hell turning all the Teto art I got into a bunch of tiny little mini MVs, some of them parodying real vocal synth MVs, some of simply just evocative of vocal synth MVs, all of them painstakingly edited by yours truly and filmed with the help of some friends over the next couple months across two states and many more cities just to be painstakingly edited and synced up again by yours truly.

THE NEXT MV I DO WILL BE SMALLER IN SCOPE

---

And with that, I believe that's the album!

There's a reason it ends with Machine Love, and not with the title track. I do think that in some respects My Darling, My Companion would have made a better closer, but that song only really resolves one of the thematic strands running through the album.

There isn't really a definitive answer to the specific question "Baby, do you know what you wanna hear?", but it evokes a theme running through the entire album - wanting something, knowing that you want something, and simply needing to find the courage to do it or say it or be it. My Darling, My Companion is in many ways a declaration of intent, an acceptance of what needs to happen, but Machine Love, to me, is that action being done. The words being said!

And now, if I may give this a somewhat selfish tint - with the explosive response my works from this album have gotten, my contributions to things like DAEMON/DOLL and Flavor Foley, the collaborations I've done and that I still have in the pipeline, the friends I've made and the community I've found a spot for myself in, and the newfound voices that I can lay my heart bare with -

Well, shit, I know what I wanna hear, and I've gotten to hear it. I'm a vocaloP. It's real!

Thank you all so goddamn much for reading and listening. I'll see you back here either tomorrow or Monday for the bonus AMA post thing!! Make art and be gay, motherfuckers.

❤️💚

[scam-alerts]

👀 Tips and Tricks 👀

Here is a collection of useful tips and tricks to spotting and dealing with scams and those who try to share them. :)

Tip #1 - Stay calm.

This is the first and most important thing you should do in any situation involving strangers on the internet. Yes, it's okay to be unsure about something at first glance. They say that you should always trust your gut. But what you shouldn't do is let that fear and uncertainty make you hateful or spiteful towards those who might genuinely be seeking help.

Tip #2 - Wait! Let's investigate!

That ask/DM someone sent you isn't going anywhere. They send dozens of them out every day to people, so it won't hurt if you take 5-10 minutes to do a little research before you decide to take action.

Easy ways you can investigate:

1) Search the username of the person who sent the ask/DM. - You can do this by typing their name in tumblr's search function or: https://www.tumblr.com/search/username https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/username

2) Check the blogs archive to see how old it is. blogname.tumblr.com/archive.

3) Check the past reblogs of the pinned post they want you to share. - Does the persons 'real name' change every few weeks? (more on this trick here!)

4) Search part of the ask via google and the word 'tumblr'. - Do you find results of that same ask being sent by other blogs?

5) If they sent you a DM, ask questions. Ask a lot of questions. - Do they get mad or frustrated with you? - Do they try to change the subject? - Are they persistent about trying to get you to do something?

Tip #3 - Stay kind.

I know it can be overwhelming when you receive asks looking for help when you might not be able to offer anything in return. It's also 100% okay to not know if you're dealing with a real person in need or a scammer. But please, don't go around reporting every single ask you get with a gofundme saying it's a scam or making posts telling others to do the same. This might wind up hurting real people genuinely looking for help from others.

Tip #4 - It is okay to block and delete.

In many cases when you receive an ask looking for help, it's usually sent with a sad story of loss, tragedy, heartache, or an implied since of urgency. This is not to say situations from real, genuine people looking for help aren't emergencies.

Just remember:

You do not have to share any asks that are sent to you.

And it does not make you a bad person if you block someone.

Especially in the cases of scammers.

Tip #5 - Help protect one another other.

If you see that someone has shared a scam, let that person who shared it know what's going on. Let them know how and why that person they shared a post from is a scammer, tell them the various tips and tricks on how to spot scammers, and maybe they too will do the same for their friends, and so on and so forth.

If anything you might even help a lot of other people not fall for a scam if you do share their pinned post and tag it as being a scam with information as to how/why in your post.

Scammers love to change their usernames, their 'real names' on their posts and editing their stories around a little bit, and if people work together, we can help keep each other safe by making sure that others are scam aware.

----------

Thank you all for reading, I hope you all have a fantastic day and if you ever have questions about something you think might be a scam, don't be afraid to send me an ask. :)

Take care. <3

----------

Helpful links and guides: Scam Index (@scam-alerts) Useful guides to spotting scams (by @kyra45) A guide about scammers pretending to be Palestinian. A guide on how to spot Insulin Scams. Part 1 and part 2 of our current list of scammers.

[serickswrites]

5...4...3...2...1

Prompt from the lovely @watermelons-whump-game

Warnings: guns, gun violence, hostage situation, self sacrifice, fade to black, gun shot, threat of death, forced to watch

"I am only going to give you one chance, Caretaker," Whumper drawled, "tell me what I want to know and I will make your death quick. Just a quick shot at the base of your skull, you won't even feel a thing. Lie to me, or refuse to tell me, and I will make your death so long and drawn out you will be begging me for mercy."

"Please," Caretaker begged, their hands raised. "I...I...I don't want to die."

Whumper chuckled. "Good, then just tell me where Whumpee is and I'll send you on your way."

"But.....you'll kill me," Caretaker sobbed. They didn't want to die. They were so terribly afraid. But they couldn't give Whumpee to Whumper. They just couldn't do that.

"You're going to die anyway. May as well make your death painless, right?"

"Please," Caretaker said, their voice thick with tears, "don't make me do this. I...I don't want to. Please."

"Caretaker, you seem to be operating under the delusion that I may spare you. And by extension Whumpee. Let me clarify. You are going to die. Whumpee is going to die. I can make your death a mercy. Or I can make sure your death is the most pain anyone has suffered. The choice really is up to you."

"Let them go," Whumpee said as they appeared in the doorway. "I'm the one you want. Let Caretaker go."

"No!" Caretaker shouted as Whumper turned and grinned.

"I was wondering when you would show up. It took you long enough." Whumper waved their gun in the air. "I suppose you want me to let them go as a show of good faith?"

"Let them go and you can do whatever you want to me," Whumpee said as they avoided Caretaker's gaze.

"Please, don't do this, Whumpee! There has to be another way!"

Whumper considered a moment. "Fine. But they have to watch. Then I'll let them go."

Whumpee opened their mouth to protest. While they couldn't trust that Whumper would let Caretaker go, they knew that if they pushed the point, Whumper would just kill Caretaker on the spot. Just to spite Whumpee. "Fine."

"PLEASE!" Caretaker screeched.

"It's ok, Caretaker. It's ok." Whumpee said as they finally turned their gaze to Caretaker's. Caretaker's eyes were filled with tears as Whumpee stared into them. "You'll be ok. I promise."

"Let's get this show on the road then!" Whumper said as they pointed the gun at Whumpee's face. "I've been waiting to do this for a very long, long time."

Whumpee stared down the barrel of the gun pointed in their direction. Though they were afraid, they would not show it. Because if they showed how afraid they were, Caretaker would do everything they could to stop it.

"I love you," they whispered softly, knowing Caretaker would hear them. Perhaps those were fitting last words. Perhaps they would give Caretaker comfort. It was no matter, Whumpee wouldn't be around long enough to find out. "I love you," they repeated and they closed their eyes.

The sound of the gun being fired echoed perfectly in Whumpee's ears.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat

[justaproshipwatermelonnerd]

"Please do not ship them they're siblings-" And then suddenly I crave to do it even more because someone told me NOT to.

[lilacerull0]

i feel like reading/watching mbf immediately means knowing who i am as a person and... i cannot allow this

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Sebastian (Pressure) fluff. I need it.

"I gotta ask, do you have personal beef with those Squiddles? Because you sure like harassing them with that light of yours."

"I don't do it on purpose! If that damn Angler stopped killing the lights in every big room, maybe I could see my own hand in front of me!" You scowled up at the sea creature while standing in his humble shop.

Why was Sebastian always taunting you whenever you died to something unexpected..only to act all friendly-like in this place?

Well, you had to be grateful he was the only thing down here that wasn't trying to kill you, and that no other monsters could barge into the shop when you least expect it.

So for once, you could breathe easy..

Until he decided to remind you of those creepy squids who were somehow always in your way.

He must get a kick out of watching you perish.

"Oh of course, blame everybody except yourself." He tsked. "You have more than enough clues on how to survive each creature you encounter...but maybe they should've spoonfed all the details to you instead-"

"I don't need this from you." You huffed. "My damn hands are cramped from holding a locker shut against Pandemonium, Eyefestation gave me a killer headache, nobody bothered to tell me about the people in the walls-"

"And don't forget about those Squiddles, hehe."

Silence.

"Okay, okay. I've had my fun. I'll shut up about them now."

"Thanks. You have any medkits available?"

"Right on my tail, buddy. Hope you got enough data."

"More than enough." As your eyes surveyed the items strapped to his tail, they eventually wandered over to the desk with batteries laying out.

But it wasn't them that caught your interest, but rather the file on the table. 'How curious..is this for a monster I'm gonna meet soon?' You went over to investigate.

"Is the document for sale?"

"Wow, you might be the first to ask me about that and be able to afford it! The others before you barely had enough for a flashlight." Sebastian chuckled, clasping his hands together. "If you're interested, give me a thousand data, and I'll have it ready for you to read when you return to the surface. And don't worry, it's all there. So I won't have to kill you to to reveal any information."

You blinked, realizing what he meant by that as you read the folder's cover and why he was asking so much for it.

Sebastian's Document

Of course, you knew he'd be recognized as a specimen, too, but to be put with Pandemonium, the Anglers, and all those other monsters that tried to eat you alive?

For some reason, it made you frown a little.

"This is your file, and they let you keep it?" You turned back to him.

"...I stole it. And I'm not gonna lie...I regret reading it." He muttered, suddenly looking a bit tense..and sad, even, although he was quick to mask any signs of vulnerability when he realized you were staring. "Anyways, it's a steep price. I'm sure you'd rather spend your assets on-"

"What if I buy it and take it off your hands right now?"

For a moment, his ear fins perked up with surprise, glowing eyes widening. But he was quick to give you a suspicious gaze. "Really? You're that nosey about my lifestory? Pretty weird if you ask m-"

"It's more of a courtesy to you."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean..you look like you're carrying a heavy weight just from that folder being there. You haven't stopped looking at it since I mentioned it." You pointed out, seeing his ears twitch again. "You've always told me "out of sight, out of mind" with the Anglers. Couldn't I say the same about you and that document?"

".....using my own words against me, eh? What're you, a damn psychologist?" He teased, although his words didn't hold as much spite or sarcasm as usual. "But no, you're right. I'd rather forget about it forever. So if you want it that badly, be my guest." His third arm made a grand gesture towards the table. "Just don't get caught parading it around. And don't come crying to me when you realize you needed something else instead of-"

"I won't, trust me." You exchanged the data, taking the folder. "I'll be on my way now. I got a crystal to find."

With that, you began ducking down to renter the vent and continue your journey into the abandoned site-

"Hey."

You paused and looked back at Sebastian, tilting your head as you wondered why he seemed nervous again--wringing his hands together.

"Um..thank you, genuinely..for taking that off my hands." He cleared his throat, sweeping back his dark bangs. "I hope that whatever you find in there doesn't..get in the way of our "partnership". I'd hate to lose my number one customer."

Nodding, you gave him a reassuring smile. "You won't lose my business, Seb. That I promise."

"..now hold on we aren't THAT close to start going by nickna-" He began to snap, but you've already disappeared into the duct. "Aaaand they're gone...hmph..well..least I don't have to worry about that anymore."

Sighing, he looked around the shop, wondering what he should do now.

What you did was certainly a nice gesture.

He only hopes you'll keep your promise and not be afraid of him.

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

MC: *ended up living in a large villa after the three seraphs decided to accompany them to the human world*

Bimet: Do you need anything else?

MC: No, this should be enough. Give my thanks to Mammon.

Bimet: ...

Bimet: Do you feel like your plan is backfiring on you?

MC: Not at all, though it sure hell is annoying.

Bimet: *smirks*

Bimet: I'll be going back now. Don't hesitate to reach out if you need more assistance. *disappears*

Michael: *approaches them* I didn’t expect you to make this decision, but I’m very pleased nonetheless.

MC: ...

MC: I wouldn't have any issue accommodating Raphael and Gabriel, but sending Michael back alone would be a problem.

Michael: *smiling*

MC: And this fucker is aware of that.

MC: *smiles back* That's great to hear. Honestly, I can't wait to enjoy this vacation with my lovely seraphs.

Michael: I’ll make sure you’re entertained, descendant of Solomon. By the way, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve prepared a bedchamber just for the two of us.

MC: *disgusted face*

Michael: *chuckles*

MC: *is on the phone with Minhyeok*

Minhyeok: You should have stayed here.

MC: And what are you gonna do?

Minhyeok: ...

Minhyeok: *sigh* I'm worried.

MC: Dude, you worry over every single thing.

Minhyeok: ...

Minhyeok: Can you at least tell me where the villa is? I'll visit you.

MC: No.

Minhyeok: ...Okay. If you don't want me to go there, how about asking one of the kings to keep them in check?

MC: That won't be possible. They have a country to— Wait. Actually, that's a good idea.

Bael: Where are you going this time, Bel?

Beelzebub: MC has requested me.

Bael: *confused* The descendant of Solomon?

Beelzebub: If you don't want to believe me, here's their text message.

Bael: ...

Bael: *frowns* They’re just asking you to send a clone of yourself.

Beelzebub: Ah, but that won't do. *chuckles*

Bael: ...

Raphael, Gabriel, and Michael: *look displeased*

Beelzebub: Hi~. We meet again~. *hugs MC*

Beelzebub: You look stressed~. Let Belbel take care of you. *with a kissy face*

MC: *already regrets choosing him*

Gabriel: Even though you're a king, you have no right to embrace god!

Beelzebub: Hm~? *hugs them even tighter*

Beelzebub: Is it wrong for me to show the creator of all the love they deserve?

MC: No doubt. The real god will spite me for this.

Raphael: I understand your point, Beelzebub. However, god looks uncomfortable.

MC: Yes, he has a point.

Beelzebub: *loses his hold* *smiles* Sorry.

Michael: ...

Michael: *feels an undescribable jealousy*

MC: Raphael and Gabriel, you two will join me in my chamber. Beelzebub, feel free to choose any room you like in this villa. As for Michael, you are forbidden from entering mine.

Raphael and Gabriel: *quite pleased*

Michael: ...

Michael: That’s fine. I can just simply invite you to my room.

MC: *frowns*

Beelzebub: ...

Beelzebub: *realizing that the reports were true* Oh.

[harmonysanreads]

Idée Fixe

yandere!lyney x reader

cw(s) : yandere, lyney, written before fontaine release

wc : 2.6k+

two dorks psychoanalyze each other. might kiss out of spite.

“For as many hearts as you steal, how many do you keep?”

The smooth texture from designed cards is felt across the tips of your fingers, your eyes capture the patterns printed on them through the filter of silvery moonlight and the sound of steps falling in sync with yours assure you of the verity of this encounter.

You don't even need to look up to picture the twinkling amethysts, the widening curve of lips that never convey anything concrete and a sudden bounce in the magician's steps ; the visage painted in your subconscious like the motifs on the cards your fingers fiddle with in intrigue.

The chilly night breeze are but twirls of playful edge,“You make it sound like something else,”

If you cared to look up, you would've noticed the subtle dance of his brows. Lyney begins to walk a step ahead of you in the midst of his short speech, through prolonged scrutiny that'd rival that of the most skilled jeweler's ; you've associated this change of pace to either be in preparation for his usual trickery — or, in the few sparse occasions that go as soon as they come, a casual introduction of another subject to eliminate the previous one. While one could accuse you of reading too much into things, you've long since learned that when it concerns the eccentric magician, the tell-tale details will reveal what he will not.

“Oh really? Perhaps it's your mind imagining insinuations that do not exist, you do have a creative brain.”

“Ouch, only you could insult and praise me in the same sentence.” Lyney places a hand over his heart to cradle it from the jab, though his choice of words should indicate offense, the delivery makes it clear he wouldn't have it any other way.

“Why, thank you, though you're gravely mistaken if you think that will change the subject.” with a swivel of his cape, Lyney spins to walk facing you, his strides (albeit backwards) unchanging in confidence and only when your lift your head to lock eyes, does his expression lighten.

“Well, to answer your question, the ones that are worth keeping, of course.”

The magician chuckles at your eye-roll, “Don't play coy, you know precisely how I meant that question.”

Lyney hums in pretend contemplation, gaze still fixated on your moonlit form, the beat of both of your steps grazing against the pavement and making it seem like a strange parade. Your question holds substance unknown to the rest of the world, but translucent to the magician.

It is both his frustration and delight that you're never bent by his charming words and theatrics. Your firm stare and insistence on the topic confirm his suspicions that you're searching for something particular, something uprooted from the very depths of his soul and he could bet his entire career that you won't stop until you've wrung it out. The answer you seek is nothing he can't give, it'd be simple as well, but precisely due to this knowledge the magician opts instead to test the limitations of your patience.

Truth be told, Lyney never likes it easy and neither do you.

For a miniscule lapse in the boundless confines of time, it's as though both of your world has separated from the existing one. For an amount that'd otherwise be uncomfortable, all exchange is made through your locked eyes. Like a secret shared between no other soul — despite your better judgement, the realization sends a jolt of thrill through your veins and you cannot help but wonder if the magician feels the same.

Seemingly out of thin air, Lyney twirls his magic wand in a wanton pattern, small sparks of light clash with the moon's glow before waltzing past your hair — you pause for not a second, knowing their goal lies in catching you off-guard. If Lyney was given the chance, he'd spend the rest of the night in determining whether you looking back to the cards in your hands was merely an expression of boredom or a brag of how accustomed you are to his theatrics.

Lyney dabbles between the lines of reality and illusion as a profession, blurring them without his audience's notice to make them believe a miracle. It's a simple trick he's succeeded in transforming into an art, so he was confident you'd be privy to the delusion as well. Whether it's due to you doing the same as him or the opposite entirely, Lyney's persistence in solving the puzzle piece named you only grows more tenacious day-by-day.

Sensing the magician's uncharacteristic quietude, you abandon the cards to his backwards marching form and the cheeky grin plastered on his face has you wishing you hadn't at all.

“Ah, but you see, the information you seek is confidential and I fear for prying ears. How about you come a little closer, and I'll tell you the amount?”

Lyney's face is a perfect replica of the grin-malkin cat he adores using as prop, a cloud obscures the moon's vision from seeing the act down earth and the shimmer of Lyney's eyes become pronounced in contrast to the shadow. In comparison, your visage that'd scream ‘preposterous!’ if it could looks nothing short of a circus.

Your steps come to a halt in unison, a breathy chuckle echoes throughout the dead of the night, “Aw, why that face? I don't bite~”

You blink in surprise and suddenly the magician's presence is way too closer than you recall ; he bows down to your ear and the heat of his breath almost makes a shiver run down your spine.

“... but, I might nibble.”

You catch his impish smirk from the corner of your eye and if Lyney notices how you choke in the formation of words, he could snag an award for acting like he didn't.

“Are you that fixated on creating a scandal? Must you always be so shameless?”

At that, Lyney leans away with a pout, hands folded behind his back and swaying back and forth on the heels of his shoes like a reprimanded child.

“Come on now, don't be such a killjoy. I went through all that trouble to whisk you from that boring party and this is how I'm thanked?”

The magician's words are a drawl, each one competing to be more irritating than the last. You have to take a deep breath and hold your tongue from reminding him that the escapade had been without your choice. The world places limitations on all sorts of things and you're not morbidly curious enough tonight to know the extent of the magician's good graces. A beat of tense silence passes, Lyney takes note of your averted gaze and it positively irks him.

Lack of eye-contact means a number of things ; nervousness, insecurity, hesitancy, guilt. For a performer like him whose pride resides in keeping his audience's eyes hooked on his every move, such a gesture is bitter tasting. But when it concerns you, it pricks and wounds his very soul. Lyney's sigh is one of weight and it inclines you to raise your head.

“By asking how many hearts I keep, you hope to know how many matters to me.”

The magician takes his hat off and moves forward to place it atop your head, his speech is not an assumption, nor an inquiry, but a statement. You straighten your posture when you notice the absence of a smile on his face, the sight so alien it has you on edge. While his gesture may be plain to an inexperienced eye, you know that he does it as an extension of his affection. For all the valued items he keeps dangling by the rim of that hat, he surrenders it all to you in a heartbeat.

But you still hold your breath and as expected, the solemn expression of his proves to be transient. Just before the hat grazes your locks, he tips it back, gives the vacancy of its inside an inspecting look and does an emptying gesture as if to prove its.. well, emptiness. There's a flicker in his eyes you're not given the time to catch as he brings his hat just above your head and does the same depleting motion again ; the scent of fresh roses engulf your senses as a thousand petals cascade down from the hat. As if on cue, the winds pick up and waltz them down upon your form.

Here's the thing ; while you may pride yourself in being experienced in discerning Lyney's tricks, it becomes a task to maintain a straight face as he never repeats his previous sleight of hand. What you can try to do instead is search for patterns, patterns reveal genres and genres reveal intentions. Lyney is a celebrated magician of the Court, his capabilities lie far from simple card tricks, so for him to resort to elementary jugglery instead of some grand spectacle, it can only mean he's trying to distract you yet again.

You feel the weight of his hat on your head at last, shifting all the cards on your left hand, you raise your right to adjust its position slightly.

Your encouragement for him to elaborate comes in the form of confirmation, “That'd be correct,”

The magician's lips curve up in fondness, a playful hum escapes him as you resume your walk, him returning to stride facing you again. It's a skill he's mastered in the duration of your acquaintance, for the purpose of stunts apparently. You have your suspicions — but then again, who doesn't when it concerns Lyney?

“Very well. You accuse me of being such a thief, yet, I think you are the guiltier one between us two.” the errant strands of the magician's hair sway, his eyes keep you captive.

He takes the inquisitive tilt of your head as incentive to conclude, “On the topic of hearts and all, I must ask first, when do you intend to return mine?”

The night winds pause, your brain processes Lyney's question until it blanks upon realization. Your eyes dart across his face that is void of all teasing cues, his eyes glazed over and you can tell he's holding his breath. Any consideration of his behavior aligning with trickery is eliminated just as quickly, because if anyone were to want to understand Lyney as intricately as you, they'd first need to learn to be able to distinguish his flirtation from fact.

“... Do I have to?”

You find yourself half concerned and half entertained as the magician narrowly avoids being hit by a pole, him having to maneuver to regain his footing. Both of your steps come to a halt as your laugh echoes throughout the dead of the night. Lyney sheepishly places a hand on the back of his neck but that sight is all too evanescent. The signature smirk of his returns with enthusiasm.

“Not at all,” he purrs, eyes flickering towards your restless ones that have settled on his magic cards again.

“In fact, mold it to your will, toss it to your whim and hold it captive as though it's a supplement of your own, if you may.”

Your ears hang onto each of Lyney's words but your eyes find no courage to look at the mirth that you're certain is plastered on his face, you take the moment to properly inspect the motifs on the cards with some distraction from the shadows of the night : the grin-malkin cat, a miniature Lyney sticking out his tongue, a tea cup, a penguin and—

You're left stupified as the card is abruptly snatched from your grasp, Lyney bounces back a few steps and confirms to be the culprit. You brisk walk to reach the magician and that turns out to be your biggest mistake.

The card is at first held between two of Lyney's fingers, him shaking it left and right in provocation and in the spur of the moment, you take a leap. You feel the wind of the card being propelled upward, the magician holding it out of your reach. Your desire to obtain the piece of paper exceeds your awareness of the sudden decrease in proximity between you both. You shift to your tiptoes and feel the surface of the card, one look through your peripheral at the magician's smile and you realize a little too late that you've fallen right into his trap.

“Now, let's see, the question that started this all : the number of hearts this magician holds dear is the answer to this riddle—”

You expected Lyney to make the card disappear or shift higher if possible, but instead his hand wraps around yours and you find yourself twirled a full circle. The motion catches you off-guard but the magician stabilizes you by placing a firm hand on your waist and pulling you to his eye-level. You find yourself out-of-breath and unable to look away as the moon shines its light on you two again.

“—Placed above, it makes greater things small. Placed beside, it makes small things greater. ” the magician tilts your chin up in his preferred angle with the card, the cool temperature of its margin contradicting the heat of your skin.

“In matters that count, it always comes first.”

The faint rustle of your garbs against his is resounding, your own reflection stares back through amethyst lenses.

Lyney's voice is but a whisper against your cheek as he concludes, “Where others increase, it keeps all things the same. What is it?”

Your frenzied mind momentarily dreads the scenario wherein someone catches you two in the midst of this rendezvous, from incipiency to this apparent climax ; it's built up to be nothing short of scandalous. But the magician has no care for that outcome, inching closer, closer and closer. As if sensing the new wave of worries that fill your mind, he halts but makes no attempt to lean back, his eyes regain their usual shine.

“Quite easy, don't you think? But, if you believe it to be so, you'll be mislead. After all, that is how the simplest magic bewilders the audience. Blink, and you might miss it.”

The magician dives in and your breath hitches. Your eyes are forced open when you feel yourself stumble forward. The first second is wasted with no action, the second one you register that you have the card in your hand — pressed to your lips, on the third you notice the absence of Lyney's presence and the forth brings down all the embarrassment crashing down on your poor heart.

You pull away the condemned card from your lips, heavens know what anyone would think if they saw you kissing a piece of paper in the middle of nowhere. Your face flushes in the lovely shades of pink, heart hammering against your ribcage.

I could've sworn that I felt...!

The magic card crumbles slightly by the edges because of your grip, the prickle of its corners remind you to take deep breaths and calm your raging thoughts. You shake your head with vigour, but you're unsure if it's to recollect the memory or to brush it off. You're left alone to ruminate the aftermath of the bizarre encounter in the cold winds of midnight and you almost want to drown yourself in the darkest depths of the sea as recollections of your reactions rapidly pass through your mind — you can practically hear Lyney's snickers in your head.

Your attention is then grabbed by the catalyst of your current predicament, you turn over the card and finally inspect the motif printed on the card ; two hearts, bounded by a shackle and a lock. You trace your thumb across the hearts and your mind retraces Lyney's cryptic words. If all interactions, encounters and memories you share with the eccentric magician of Fontaine would form a pinnacle for you to see the truth from ; you'd know that behind the veneer of charisma and humor, Lyney hides something far less innocent. And yet, regardless of the foreboding creeping up your spine, you find yourself unable to snap the tether of connection.

Because as it is, that which is mysterious, captivates us all.

may all lyney wanters be lyney havers<3

[rockrosethistle]

I'm thinking about the implications again.

The numbers that the hive mind performs aren't random. Both the lyrics and the choreography will often boil down to to one purpose: to cause pain. (Pokey is ruthless.)

Sometimes it's physical, and that's easy to spot. The cops spend half of their song just kicking and pushing people to the ground. Join Us And Die literally ends with Ted getting beat up.

And when the choreography doesn't allow for it, the lyrics are specifically trying to elicit an emotional response. The hive uses Alice to torment Bill. He's watching someone he loves die in front of him. It does the same for Charlotte.

Okay, the hive gets a kick out watching people suffer. That's not new information. But the implications...

Look at Inevitable. It's a pretty significant shift from the rest of the numbers. Whereas those seem tailored for pain and fear, Inevitable seems to be comforting? Just look.

Paul walks out, and the first thing he does is hug Emma. Which doesn't seem significant at first, but think: Did Bill get that same courtesy?

Alice's first line is meant to taunt Bill. Paul's is almost consolatory; " Emma / I'm sorry / you lost." I won't dissect this completely, the theory is that this first line is genuine. Paul is actually sorry that their plan failed.

And when you take a look at the choreography, it becomes clear that it's a lot kinder than the other songs.

We see Paul waltzing with Emma and kissing her hands. And even though he's not letting her get away, he's not trying to hurt her. He's not even trying to intimidate her. He's shown more than once bending down--getting on her level, like you would to a child--as opposed to towering over her.

The lyrics aren't messing with her either. Whereas Sam is manipulative and Alice is spiteful, Paul's lyrics are reassuring.

"I'm still the man you trust," is a lot different than "Don't you twust me?" when you get right down to it. It carries with it a connotation of 'I'm okay, and you will be too.'

"What if I told you I made it?" actively contradicts the 'I killed your loved one' narrative that Alice used with Bill.

It's not like Emma is buying any of it. She's still terrified. Paul doesn't need to hurt her or taunt her in order to scare her, just singing was enough. But it's clear that he's not trying to.

The hive mind gets a kick out of watching people suffer. Emma is the leading lady. You'd think that she's the one who should have the most brutal song. But she just doesn't. It seems like her song is trying to be the kindest.

We know it's implied that once they get infected, people are still conscious inside their musical doppelgängers (source: the line "your own body is your front row seat" as well as Sam breaking through its control long enough to say "Charlotte" before falling back under).

I think Paul was conscious during Inevitable. I think he knew that they weren't escaping this. I think he knew he was eventually going to kill Emma, and there was nothing he could do about it. But I think he didn't want her to suffer.

Instead, I think he resolved to give her as kind a death as he could. He would lie. He'd tell her he was happy and that she was safe. He'd be as gentle as the hive mind allowed. She was running out of time, so he'd love her with every second they had left.

(but that's just a theory...a musical theory... and cut)

[alastors-antlers]

a brief take on the whole "Alastor's smile is permanent" discussion

hello all!

I've seen a lot of people theorizing lately that Alastor actually smiles all the time because his smile is magically, physically fixed onto his face. All of this seems to come from the fact that he's practically grimacing rather than smiling during the scene where he breaks down in ep8:

As well as this frame of his deal with Charlie: (lower res sorry)

I will say, I do like some of the implications of this theory. The sheer spite of his creditor forcing him to smile as an addition to their deal, almost like a sort of forced silence, is a neat concept. It's fun and dramatic. Plus, of all things, of course Alastor would claim the "smile at all times" policy and make it his own to pretend that it was his decision all along lol.

To be fair, though, I don't think we even need any magical compulsion to explain why he's smiling while he's having a mental breakdown. Actually, if we assume magical compulsion, I think we lose a bit of dimension from Alastor's character. (No judgement to anyone's take though, of course -- I just think this works in the direction of his established characterization, but obviously all personal takes <3)

Hear me out:

Alastor's persona is not just for others to see.

"A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends; keeps your enemies guessing; and ensures that whatever comes your way, you're the one in control."

That makes sense given what we know about him. If he's always smiling, he seems like he has it together. You can't read him very well, especially not when he's actively trying to keep up appearances.

Now consider that when you think about ep8's fight with Heaven, we see that he's already been through so much in this one day.

He fights an army of angels, presumably not even at his own whim (if we go by his blurb about freedom in the Finale song); he loses to Adam, who he considers sloppy and mediocre; his staff, which we can assume holds some part of his power, is snapped; he comes close to being Angelic-power-killed; and to top it all off, he knows that others watched him get injured and then apparently die or flee, all of which would ruin the public image that he's trying to maintain. It wouldn't even be unreasonable for us to assume that he knows Vox was watching, given that Vox kind of has eyes everywhere.

In a moment like this, in the finale, you could say that Alastor has lost (at least on some level) everything that we know matters to him. He doesn't have access to all of his magic, and it's limiting him. He's reminded that he doesn't have freedom or control over his own destiny. He certainly has taken massive hits to his powerful, composed persona. But he's desperate, and furious, and terrified, and clinging on.

That's why he's smiling.

It's not that he can't stop because he physically can't. It's that he can't stop because to him, the smile is the last thing that is still within his power. When there are so many moving parts that he can't predict what happens to him next, he can control how he responds to it. In these last fragments of autonomy, there is solace.

He needs to keep telling himself that he has it together and that he'll eventually scheme his way free, that there's a solution, that he won't be in chains forever; because letting his pretense slip would be admitting that it's all starting to actually get to him. That maybe this time, he doesn't have an escape plan.

In addition, if you read his interactions throughout the series, we also see something else: Alastor's reputation is of paramount importance to him. At multiple points throughout the series, when others disrespect him by discounting his power or presence, he gets visibly annoyed. And in the battle, we see a glimpse of the part of his personality he seems to be trying to leave behind - a normal Alastor, who's just some guy from Louisiana. No transatlantic accent; no unflappable malice; no sharp wit waiting at the ready. Maybe even unremarkable.

Dropping his smile - arguably the most prominent part of his brand - would be admitting that in reality, he's not the Radio Demon of legend that he aspires to project. And if he doesn't have that... where would he be?

[lazywriters-blog]

A PINCH OF HATE

AVENTURINE x FEMALE!READER + DR. RATIO

Summary: Just Aventurine being a little brat and poking fun at Ratio- trying to make him jealous and showing off, and trying his best to spite Dr. Ratio. After all, the doctor might have feelings for his darling as well. [This is a little silly lol but I tried.]

Warning: Possessiveness, angst? Jealousy. Overall a lot of touching from Aventurine, he's lowkey obsessed.

"Perhaps you should learn from your companion a bit of self-restraint, gambler."

"Whatever do you mean doctor, I'm plenty patient." Aventurine ever the smug, slippery little guy grins and purs out a retort, she was hoping his grip on her waist would loosen and drift away but that hasn't happened yet and it's making her uneasy.

"Oh! Do you find her fascinating perhaps? Taken a liking to my darling, now that won't do." he giggled to himself, and if she hadn't been forced to stay with him for an entire week, she wouldn't have noticed his slight change in tone.

"Don't be ridiculous, I find her qualities to be much more preferable than yours."

"Sheesh, it almost sounds like you're after my darling here, doctor." Dr. Ratio ignored the blonde and turned his attention to her, asking, "Why do you stick around with idiots? You should have better places to be than here."

"Umm... I-" Aventurine pulled her close to his body and pouted, "I suppose we are idiots in love, doctor."

She couldn't tell him what happened for her to end up miserably hopeless beside Aventurine, or if she could even get a chance.

'Do you like him or do you not?' She was cornered one afternoon. During that time she began regretting stepping out of her office, Aventurine was just outside waiting for her and she didn't know what he had in mind. 'where's this coming from?' she tried to pry in-between them some space, nervously smiling and looking to her right but he kept nearing her with a smug smile.

'Come on, we are friends... Right? Don't friends share their secrets?' she hadn't considered him a close friend, though she did enjoy his company.

'I mean he considers me to be much inferior to him... Probably, I'm likely too dumb to be with a genius.'

'Ah~ I didn't mention who 'he' was.'

She playfully pushed him back and shyly looked down, 'You and your stupid mind games.'

'Let's make a bet.' He grinned, and she groaned. Though she did win some of his bets, it remained difficult. 'Not this one again.' she took a step back.

'Come on don't be like that~ it will be fun.' She sighed and he took it as his cue to carry on. He took long strides towards her and smiled wide.

'Go on a date with me or...' he leaned into her ear, breathing out the last of his wager, 'stop liking him.'

He was testing her, making good use of her feelings and manifesting everything in his favor, though she wasn't surprised. Aventurine was always one step ahead and she was an idiot.

She likely didn't stand a chance against him. Whatever he had planned for them both, she doubted he would consider her livelihood. Aventurine can be selfish with the things he wants, she's realized that.

Aventurine took his time rubbing salt into Dr. Ratio's unseen wound, slyly smirking and giving her a quick kiss on her lip and clearly, it left her bewildered.

Was that her first lip-to-lip contact?

"Ugh-" Dr. Ratio released a disgusted noise and clutched his book closer to his chest, "take your lovey-dovey display somewhere else." Aventurine let out a haughty laugh and grinned, "Shouldn't you be saying how wonderful of a couple we are? Are you jealous of me Doctor?"

"With you being a shameless gambler and her a decent lady, I don't find anything much appealing."

Aventurine faked a sad sigh and looked at her, "Don't mind him, he's being salty he hasn't acquired a beautiful maiden like yourself." he kissed her cheek and she was tempted to say she didn't mind him, at all but decided to remain silent. "Let's go select some of the rings I've prepared for you!" he leaned back a little and gently stirred her around to the exit with his hand still holding onto her hip.

"What? Surely you aren't thinking of involving her in your cunning schemes and putting her in grave danger. Or perhaps you've lost your mind." That made Aventurine stop and she took a peek at his face, he wasn't showing any emotion but she could sense some spitefulness.

Eventually, Aventurine turned his face and grinned back at Dr. Ratio, "You shouldn't care about what belongs to me, doctor."

She didn't get to see what expression Ratio had wore as Aventurine was quick on his feet and quickly dragged her along with him. She let him sit beside her during the ride back to his place, and though she had meant to keep her lips sealed and tucked tight, curiosity had begun to gnaw away her peace.

So she asked, "Does he like me too?" if it were anybody else, anybody like Dr. Ratio she would be given a scowl and a complicated response of yes and no, but this was Aventurine and he would have known something she didn't beforehand.

His hand gently touched her knee, and he gave her his signature smile, "Oh, it seems like the doctor isn't very good at being subtle, but I digress, as a potential partner doctor would be horrible and it would be a nightmare for both parties. So it shouldn't matter whether he liked you or not."

"Right." She didn't know how to respond and it wasn't like she was hoping for the doctor to return her feelings or share her sentiment.

Aventurine turned towards her and smiled, "Moving on, I think we should wear a matching pair of attire tomorrow, so let's go shopping!"

She nodded, she couldn't lie she was enjoying the attention Aventurine was showering her with.

[tearsofcalamity]

ok read it. i am now unbelievably horny that was so good!!!! i just loove the idea of reader being barely awake, seeing aven Existing and going i need that twink destroyed Yesterday.

now bear w me cause while aven was going through the 5 stages of grief in that quest i was going through the infinite stages of horny and Thinking: i want soft sex w him really really bad he'd be my angel my pretty boy my golden little star! but the mf would be SUCH a tease! like he'd love you being gentle but after a while he'd start asking to "please, go rougher" and that he can "handle it" you'd go "no, baby, i want to love you softly" and he shuts up. and then you think he's given up but suddenly he is. all. over. you every second of everyday. he's not letting you do any work, his hand is on your thigh whenever you sit down next to him, he's whispering in your ear abt how good your dick (strap lol) makes him feel while yall are in public. just doing everything in his power to rile you up, so you will finally fuck the brains out of him. and when you finally snap and grab him by the arm and toss him on the bed all rough & furious he is Overjoyed, crazy fucking smile on his face. too bad your plans include taking him apart slowly and painfully, denying his release again and again while calling him all the sweet names under the sun before finally giving him what he's been begging for<3

LORD... LORD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL ... !!!!!

no listen to me. he's so pent up and eager to have you just bend him in half and fuck him to the point where he's sobbing, he's so confident he can take it just fine. not that he minds you being so gentle with him, it still feels incredible, but he wants to feel what it's like to have your gaze dark with hunger on him as you fuck him into the sheets til he can't even breathe through his sobs.

but hear me out. aventurine can NOT take it. he's soooo sure of himself, doing all that teasing. playing footsie at fancy restaurants where you could easily get caught were he to go further, standing behind you to subtly rut against your back and pant right into your ear about how good it feels, begging you to just palm him just a lil bit, he promises he won't cum yet! no one will notice, he swears!

once you get him on the bed, he's so fucking excited, he can't believe he's actually got you all to himself and he can just tell by the look in your eyes you've got a rough night planned for him. but then you're switching between rough and soft, pinning him down while you jerk him without mercy and bring him to the edge over and over and over. he tries to hold out but he's sobbing and sniveling by the end of it, apologizing for riling you up and being bad in public. he just wants to hear you praise him, have your strap in him, but you won't give him what he wants.

eventually avennie's tears win you over, but you're not going to be gentle tonight. promise him he can cum with you inside him and then just absolutely pound him into the mattress until he's seeing stars. he's choking on every moan, and once you start throwing the petnames into the mix again, he's spurting out his load pathetically onto the sheets.

call him angel, darling, sweetheart, pretty boy, lovely, and don't forget to tell him how good he's being, of course. but don't stop when he cums. he had been begging you all day to be rough with him, to fuck him dumb, right? so don't stop when he finishes, instead, double down and overstimulate him until the pillow he's clutching onto is half-soaked with his tears and drool, until you have to hold his hips upright in order to keep fucking into him and nailing his achey prostate. maybe start jerking him here too, watch him wail into the pillow and thrust his hips back for more pleasure in spite of the overwhelming sensations he's going through...

I can't tell you whether this is gonna make him get more frisky in public to get the same ass ramming next time or if he's going to accept going back to the soft lovin you laved on him before. maybe both

[mikareo]

eternal sunshine ── itoshi rin

w.c. 841 content: itoshi rin x fem reader, post-break up angst

༘⋆📼˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

are you okay?

he keeps asking. that same question appears in your messages a few times a day, a few times too many. it's nice to know he cares, a little bit in the slightest at least, but it doesn't help with the raw aching in the center of your chest— where all of the affection you hold for rin is struggling to find a place in your body to settle. it's pulling at your skin and tugging your limbs, urging your fingers to type the infamous 'i miss you' that lives in the delusion your heart wants to come true.

but you do miss him.

you really miss him.

you want to move on, but you can't. you can't seem to push past the denial that you aren't together anymore. you broke up. he broke up with you. you aren't a couple. you aren't his girlfriend. you aren't the love of his life. rin will forget about you. he'll forget you. you don't matter.

you're nothing and he's everything.

he holds so much real estate in your chest that you find yourself starting the car, backing onto the street, and heading towards the home you once shared. will you regret this? probably. do you even care anymore? no.

so, when you raise your hand before the door, there's no hesitation, no anxiety seeping from your fingertips— just heavy grief that hasn't been processed yet. grief that you're begging to receive closure for; and you're one step closer to that gift when the handle turns, and you're face-to-face with the man who broke your heart.

his eyes look heavy. there isn't an ounce of surprise in them. it's almost as if he was expecting you...

...god, you're so predictable. you're so pathetic and desperate that he knew you'd cave and come. why can't you be strong like him? why can't you move on?

"i can't let you in." rin murmurs. his statement is firm and his body doesn't budge. "this isn't healthy, baby."

in spite of his words, he cups your face. the feeling of his palms is familiar. a touch that your dreams welcome when you can't find sleep, and yearn for the comfort you once shared. his blue gaze has love hidden behind those steely irises. you know it. there has to be some love left in there for you. you can't have just vanished from his heart. that's what you choose to believe— a perfect example of how you convince yourself to stay stranded in denial despite knowing otherwise.

"let's talk," you beg, "one last time."

"what's left to say?" his voice cracks and rin's strength wavers for a moment. "i can't do this. i'm not cut out for this. i don't have time for a relationship; i've already said all of this, please don't make me say it again."

you can tell he's on the verge of tears, lip quivering and eyebrows furrowed, rin pulls you closer. his hands magnetically find your body and he embraces you in a tight hug. it's selfish. he's leading you on once more and giving you false hope that maybe, this time, the conversation will end differently. he longs for the comfort you bring him, but won't provide that same favor when you ask for it.

it's too much to handle alone. you're tired.

this needs to stop.

"i've just been thinking so much lately." you begin, trying to find some courage. any courage. anything to help. "and i've realized that i put so much into this. i put my all into you. i gave you everything, and i'm not— i'm just not—"

"not what?"

a sigh escapes you.

"i'm not enough to convince you to stay."

rin's arms tighten. "you're perfect. you are. i'm the one who's not enough for you. believe me—"

"how can i?" you interrupt. "if i was perfect, you'd try harder. you'd want to keep me around so we can help each other be better. i hate who i'm becoming without you. i have no one to care for. i have all of these feelings and i don't know where to put them because they just want to feel for you. i'm running around in circles trying to process everything that happened because it was so abrupt, but i just can't do it— i want you. all i want is you. i don't know who i am anymore. rin please. you can still change your mind. i'm begging. i've begged so many times. let this work, just once. i love you."

his lips are on yours in a split second, deeply kissing you to end your mindless ramble, and his plan works. he shuts you up.

he ends the conversation, once again, with a kiss; never giving a real answer to your questions. never giving a solution to the dilemma. rin just restarts the cycle of manipulation that he doesn't even realize he's doing. you can't let each other go. your efforts will always fail. you'll be stuck in this loop forever. lonely, yet loving him.