#this is not going to go the way you think rey

[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.

❤️💚

[i-love-ptv]

I Just Ride ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

(Prologue?)

Pairing: Knight!Rafe Cameron x Princess!Carrera!Reader

Wc: 719

An: Heyyyy guyssss…..So this was supposed to come out for HALLOWEEN but i got lazy n wrote other things.

I debated on posting this, i was thinking of making a series, but that depends on whether or not y’all want it! so lmk loves!

Feedback is always welcome and encouraged! <3

“This would be monumental for the family, Rafe!” Rafe’s father, Ward, exclaimed.

Rafe remains unsure of how long this conversation has been going on, he fears his horse will have passed on by the time his father decides to make his voice scarce.

Ward Cameron was one of the mightiest knights in all of Kildare Kingdom, if not the.

Everyone knew that he only cared about the family legacy; for the wealth that came from notoriety.

His eldest daughter, Sarah, was arranged to be wed to Prince Topper Thorton. —But it was painfully aware that her eyes lingered elsewhere, they always remained on the Thorton family’s jester, John Routledge.

Ward is even in the process of accommodating his youngest, Louisa, despite her constant protesting. All the young girl wanted was to become a knight, just like her big brother Rafe. But of course this behavior was not allowed in Ward’s book. No, Ward’s daughters need to be nothing but royalty, and the only way was through marriage.

Ward and Rafe’s step-mother Rose had an almost dictatorship-like relationship. Ward’s word goes, no matter what. Nobody even in the family dared to disobey his order.

Hence why, although he isn’t interested in the slightest, Rafe knew he wasn’t going to get out of it.

“Think about this, Rafe! You are already a knight, my son! Now you would just work for one family!” Ward shouted, growing more agitated by the second.

“Unfortunately for you, father, I am not interested,” Rafe maintained with a blank tone.

Ward huffs, raking his fingers through his hair frustratedly. “My word is final, that is it.”

“But-“ Rafe attempts to object.

“That is an order, Rafe! You are to serve the Carrera family, and provide them with the utmost respect,” Ward almost snarls.

He continues, “I wish not to hear another word about the matter, Rafe. Start packing, you will be residing there as well, they’ve offered you one of their spare rooms.”

Rafe stomps to his room, similar to how a young child would.

It’s not like he has a problem with the Carrera family, It’s quite the opposite actually. They treat him with such niceties that would make anyone fawn; since he was a Cameron and all.

The youngest, Kiara, albeit continuously holding a grudge towards Rafe, wasn't his main concern.

You, were his main concern.

You somehow always managed to have that twinkle in your eye, even when falling bored.

You always smiled at him brightly, and he knew that it wasn’t fake like the others’.

You held beauty unlike the rest; Rafe swears there could never be a time where you don’t look divinely ravishing.

He’s thought about writing you a letter, confessing his admiration for you and his want to have your hand in marriage.

Unfortunately, the Cameron boy knew that seeking a relationship with you was futile. After all, was just a mere knight, and you deserved to be married to a man of royalty; since wealth was no issue for Rafe.

Rafe doesn’t know if he’d even be able to handle being in the same vicinity as you, let alone guard you and take up your sacred space.

The thought alone makes his stomach fill with the flutters left behind by butterflies, but he also feels giddy, believe it or not.

He’d be able to see you freshly from your slumber.

….That's rather strange, isn’t it?

It’s not like he was an odd stalker of some sort, he just wanted to be bare witness to the beauty you behold, especially when you rouse from your nightly escapades.

The mere thought of being in your presence makes his heart pound against his chest. The tight feeling makes him reach his arm out and grip his nightstand for stability, as he drops onto his bed.

It’s late now, and despite his urge to just succumb to slumber. Rafe packs his bag, which will reside on his horse tomorrow morning.

Once he’s done, he flops onto his bed, resting under the covers on his back, looking at the ceiling in thought.

‘How would this transpire? Only a god would know,’ he thinks to himself. He thinks about praying, although he doesn’t really have the words in his throat.

Rafe finally rests his head on his pillow, and hopes for the best.

[soov]

IF YOU ARE AN ENHABLR WRITER, PLEASE READ THIS.

tw : very brief mentions of pedophilia, grooming, homophobia and sexual harassment.

hi! i’m rei and i’ve been writing for enhypen since 2022 (this is my second account revamp), but i’ve been lurking around enhablr since 2021. i’ve noticed some misguided words, especially from new enhypen writers due to recent events, and decided to make this post, so please make sure to read thoroughly.

first of all, i want to painfully break it to the ones who started their accounts in 2024, who thought that enhablr was a safe space, and tell you that it is not one. it has NEVER been one.

now, i’m not saying that to make you disappointed and want to quit, but simply to tell you the truth behind it all. i think there was an illusion created around this community, behind the pretty themes and fluff works, that blinded the people who weren’t actively a part of enhablr, and had just joined us.

in 2021 we had blatant pedophilia with the 02z, brief moments after they debuted, when they were just 18. the community was still a bit messy since enha was a rookie group and fresh out of i-land.

in late 2021, and especially 2022, we began seeing enhablr take some form, but with it, we got a terrible like to reblog ratio and some plagiarism. late 2022 had more pedophilia again, now with sunoo, who had just turned 19, and had adults posting nsfw works for him on the day of his birthday. plagiarism began getting strength and many writers had both their works and banners / layouts copied.

in 2023, during the very start of the year, we had more pedophilia cases. this time, with writers. a grown man with an account named mintchocolatesunoox verbally harassed many minors with sexual asks and threats. we also had a 30yo writer named luna interacting constantly with minors and treating them in a way that crossed boundaries.

we had cases of homophobia with writers avoiding and blocking other lgbtqiap+ writers and reasoning it with their religion. not only that, but we also had another adult jumping into conclusions when a minor blocked them for being uncomfortable, saying the hate anons she was getting were from the minor, when it wasn’t. plagiarism got even worse at this time.

there were also more grown adults writing smut for jungwon when he turned 19, and at the end of the year, their target was ni-ki when the korean law changed the legal age from 19 to 18 years.

this year we had islamophobia, people refusing to acknowledge and share about the ongoing massacres and genocides around the world, more plagiarism, writers using AI to write their works with no shame, and minors consuming smut.

these are only some of the countless problems surrounding enhablr, not including the intern problems that weren’t outed.

many of these situations got worse as the conflicts began leaving tumblr and started going to other apps and group chats. i’m not saying the issue is on making friends and keeping contact outside tumblr (because i even encouraged it creating servers and such). the biggest problem is how so many people aren’t holding their friends and the ones who do these types of things accountable.

it’s not about doing it and apologizing, it’s about apologizing, changing, and holding yourself and others accountable. the memory of some people seems like one of a goldfish, completely ignoring the behavior of those who didn’t even apologize, and moving on.

enhablr was never safe, because we, writers, didn’t make it safe. the ones without morals are finding space to act like this because we are giving them space. if we do want to keep these people at bay and make enhablr a truly nice community we have to start really calling out and educating the ones who are doing and saying horrible things.

start by doing it privately, trying to educate them. if it doesn't work, call them out, no matter who they are. don’t condone their wrong actions and hold them accountable if they don’t post a pronouncement or change their behavior.

don’t let things slide and don’t think mutuals or friends shouldn’t be educated too. we are all still human and commit mistakes, but keeping practice of them is not and will never be normal.

so if you think something is off, say it, talk it out, post it. don’t let it keep happening. the change always starts from inside out.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 07

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍��𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Richmond, Virginia, March 20, 2015

“Thank you so much for being here once again!” Gratitude seemed to pour from her voice and adorn her smile. Everyone at Pearl’s bar cheered whenever you stepped on stage and sighed in disappointment when you announced the last song.

It felt almost too surreal.

Gradually, a certain confidence began to settle, and the small stage of that bar—bathed in cozy, colorful lights, walls adorned with posters of '90s bands, and a warm audience—felt more and more like home. Maybe it was a bit arrogant to think you were born for this, but what if you were?

“Did I tell you how good you are today?” His voice reached you just as your hand slid over the zipper after storing the guitar away. You didn’t even need to turn around to recognize the presence that filled the space.

He’d been here. Every single day. For a month.

With the uncanny ability to make the blood vessels in your face dilate, painting your skin crimson, and sending chills up your arms just by hearing the timbre of his voice. Turning around and meeting his brown eyes, sparkling like a precious gem every time they met yours, sent your body into an involuntary reaction.

There was absolutely no way you could stop yourself from smiling when he was by your side, even if the swarm of butterflies nesting in your stomach caused a slight discomfort.

“You say that every time, Noah…” you muttered so softly you thought he hadn’t heard.

“That’s because I’m your biggest fan.”

After flashing a wavering smile and shaking your head to mask the flustered feeling creeping in, you went back to rolling up the sound cables. After every performance, it was your duty to tidy up the place and clean the empty bar before heading home.

Pearl had offered you a spot in the small house she shared with her son in the back of the bar. There weren’t separate bedrooms or many rooms to keep you from bumping into one another, but to you, it was perfect—a place to sleep, eat, and shower.

“Uh…” Noah seemed to rehearse his words, hands buried in his pockets and shoulders hunched as he followed you around the stage. “It’s not that late, and I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me?”

Your body froze in place for a few seconds, cables coiled around your fingers.

“I mean…” he rushed to correct himself. “Don’t get me wrong, please. It’s just an invitation to grab a drink or some food. I promise I’ll get you home before your parents notice you’re gone, or I can talk to them if you’d like, and…”

“I’ll go.”

Finally, he fell silent, his rapid string of words nearly robbing him of breath. Noah slumped his shoulders, and it was hard to tell whether he was surprised you’d agreed or just catching his breath after pulling an Eminem stunt.

“Cool!” was all he managed to say, still looking dazed.

“I just need to finish organizing the sound equipment and cleaning up the bar. If you don’t mind waiting.”

“No. No. No! Of course, I don’t mind waiting.” Noah assured, already glancing at the rest of the disorganized bar. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

It didn’t take long for the place to become a true mess, thanks to Noah’s enthusiasm and the old jukebox in the corner with the help of a coin. Chairs atop tables, soapy water covering the floor, while you both wielded brooms, belting out a metal version of Love Story by Taylor Swift that you’d created. Noah handled the growls, and you performed the melodic verses, sliding across the slippery floor.

For the second time, it struck you how your voices complemented each other, even if it was just a silly game while cleaning a bar that reeked of stale drinks and cigarettes. He seemed to enjoy himself so much that, while pushing water across the floor, you couldn’t help but steal glances at his perfectly aligned smile—a masterpiece framed in laughter.

With unsteady steps dodging the puddles of soap, your body suddenly lost balance. Noah’s quick reflexes allowed him to drop his broom and catch you just in time before you hit the ground.

If there was music still playing, you couldn’t tell what it was anymore. A faint ringing buzzed in your ears as your eyes locked with his.

There wasn’t a single scientific explanation as to why his eyes gleamed so brightly in your presence, and even after seeing him every day for a month at the back of the audience, it still felt like the first time.

“Easy there, little storm!” His voice was soft, carrying a breath of mint as strands of his hair fell across his face. “A hospital date isn’t exactly on my agenda.”

Slowly, Noah helped you back to your feet, his laughter mingling with yours as you both steadied yourselves. Returning to your brooms, you remembered what you were supposed to be doing.

Pearl’s bar was finally back in order—chairs down, floor spotless, stage organized, dishes washed. The strong scent of disinfectant made Noah sneeze, drawing a laugh from you when you saw his reddened nose from the allergy. He kindly helped you gather your belongings, but as you were about to leave, heavy rain poured outside, making him groan in disappointment.

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” he grumbled, gazing at the downpour with a less-than-pleased expression. Somehow, he looked adorable, pouting like that.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the rain?” you teased, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it to the floor by the door along with your bag and phone.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Noah asked, furrowing his brows in a mix of concern, trailing after your mischievous smile as you walked backward into the rain. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to get soaked for no reason. We could wait it out or reschedule, and…”

“Boy, you’re so…”

“Boring?” he offered.

“Methodical,” you corrected, raising a finger in the air for emphasis. “You’re afraid of making mistakes, turning it into a constant competition with yourself to make everything perfect. But I have a question for you: When was the last time you felt free?”

The words seemed to strike him, and for a moment, you hesitated, fearing you’d overstepped, noticing how he froze in place. Life had always been a sea of opportunities to you, no matter what they were. You’d always felt alone, even in a crowd, and nothing had stopped you from living.

Nothing had cared enough to cage you, and that made you free.

The trance broke. Noah shook his head, banishing his inner doubts. A smile formed on his lips as he shed his jacket, tossing his phone alongside your things, and sprinted into the rain, squinting against the droplets.

You instinctively began running down the long, empty road, your laughter tangling with his, filling the air. Noah made it a race; taller than you, his long strides were worth two of yours.

Rain clung to your skin, hair plastered to your face, strands obscuring your vision as you desperately glanced over your shoulder, afraid of being caught. With a playful grin, he bit his lip, struggling to see through the downpour.

His laughter was the best song you’d ever heard, and your heart longed to play it on repeat until it soothed the storm raging inside.

When your legs gave out, surrendering, Noah caught you in a surprise move, hoisting you over his shoulder. Your laughter spilled freely, your stomach aching from the joy. Spinning together in the rain, the cold seemed insignificant as adrenaline warmed your bodies.

A dance without music moved you both as Noah clasped your hand, twirling you, your toes barely touching the ground. Every time you lifted your face to the sky, feeling the raindrops and cool breeze, your lips and his curved upward simultaneously.

Attempting another spin, Noah’s foot slipped, sending you both tumbling to the ground. He softened your fall with his arm, and once again, your eyes locked, separated only by the strange-tasting water falling from the sky and dripping from your chins.

Every detail of his face was perfectly sculpted, a maze where you could easily lose yourself—his deep, hopeful, and fiercely brown eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, boy,” you whispered, almost breathless, as he propped himself up on one arm. “I’m still going to break your heart.”

“I dare you, little storm,” Noah said, his gaze fixed on you as though spellbound, his free hand brushing away a stray lock from your face to study it closely before claiming your lips in one swift motion.

Every ounce of turmoil that had knotted your insides over the past weeks washed away with the rain, as if a new sensation took over your body. Your arms looped around his neck, fingers threading through the damp hair at his nape. There was no other choice for him but to stay. You wanted him to stay.

Noah’s long fingers pressed into your back, gathering the soaked fabric of your shirt, pulling your bodies together with deliberate slowness. He cupped your face, deepening the kiss with an urgency that mirrored the moment he’d first crossed your path.

Noses brushing gently, you both smiled softly, his lips returning to yours. Tilting his head skyward, eyes closed as he murmured something unintelligible. Noah laughed softly, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead and the curve of his nose.

"Please, little storm, tell me I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered, almost like a plea, as his lips brushed against your skin, refusing to open his eyes.

"Absolutely, yes," your voice confirmed as you slowly lifted his face, your fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair.

A second meeting in a dark basement isn’t exactly what you imagined.

Noah had come down with a terrible cold after last night’s adventure, and in an attempt to stop you from risking his life again, he suggested you come watch his band rehearse. His friends and bandmates were introduced as Folio, Jolly, and Ruffilo. The guys welcomed you with enthusiasm, and for a moment, you felt like you’d known them for years, so naturally did they make you feel part of their group.

“What’s with that face?” Ruffilo asked as soon as the first song ended, slinging his instrument off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me it’s that bad.”

“You have the privilege of seeing us play a private show, and that’s the face you make? Noah, your friend here is kind of rude!” The guy behind the drums joked in an easygoing tone, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Sitting cross-legged on the couch, you nibbled on your lip while munching on a bag of chips. It wasn’t like you were a music expert, though you’d been breathing it in like air for as long as you could remember, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

“I think it was badass!” As soon as you spoke, everyone slumped their shoulders in relief.

“I take back everything I said about her.”

“But something’s missing…” you added, standing up from the couch and brushing your fingers together.

“I take back everything I just said about her.” The guy on the drums simply couldn’t stay quiet.

“Folio, let the girl speak!” Jolly interrupted, and Folio quickly mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key. “What exactly do you think is missing? I’ve had that same feeling and would love to know I’m not going crazy.”

You began pacing back and forth, your steps deliberate, your fingers curling inside your jeans pockets. Jolly’s question made you reflect on the current metal scene. All their references seemed focused on hardcore, where every song followed a single rhythm.

“How about taking advantage of the fact that the band doesn’t have a set direction yet and trying something different? Like metalcore—it allows for a mix of guttural and melodic vocals, low tunings, and fast riffs. It keeps the sound fresh and avoids the songs blending into each other when the tracks change.” You finished your thought, and the guys exchanged looks as though a divine light had suddenly shone upon them. “Did I say something dumb?”

“Actually, you said something interesting…” Jolly seemed lost in thought for a few seconds, tapping his fingers on a wooden surface.

“Noah said you sing rock and punk at the bar where you work,” the guy holding an energy drink offered you some, but you politely declined. “Why not try doing the melodic vocals on one of our songs? I promise it’s just a test, and we’ll leave you alone afterward. But seriously, look at our desperate faces!”

Ruffilo made a dramatic pout, clasping his hands together like a kid begging for a new pet. Your body tensed at the idea of meddling where you didn’t belong, and you regretted even opening your mouth. Your gaze met Noah’s, who simply winked and nodded, his lips silently mouthing, “You’re good” over and over.

Suddenly, his hand appeared next to yours, holding a microphone. As much as you wanted to refuse, the words stuck in your throat as Noah took your hand and placed the mic in it.

There was no turning back.

“THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!” Folio yelled as he struck the final cymbal.

“You were absolutely right! We needed to combine guttural and melodic vocals!” Jolly, almost talking to himself, continued tapping his fingers on a wooden surface. He gave what looked like the shadow of a smile, and that seemed like a good sign.

“So it seems my plan worked…”

Noah surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your temple and lingering as he inhaled the scent of your hair.

“Plan?” You turned abruptly to face him.

“I brought you here because ever since I first saw you at the bar and we sang together, I knew I wanted you to sing with me in my band—now our band—and I won’t take no for an answer!” he declared, pinching the tip of your nose. “You’re good. You’re really good!”

Your shocked gaze flicked from him to the other band members, who looked just as excited as he was.

“Welcome to Bad Omens, little storm.”

After saying goodbye to the boys, Noah promised to drive you home. While he finished grabbing his things from the garage, you decided to step outside for some air and take the opportunity to smoke a cigarette.

Becoming the vocalist of a band at this point in your life wasn’t exactly on your bingo card for the year, and you had no idea how you’d balance it with your job at the bar, especially since saving money was still your top priority. But everything had felt so simple down there. There was no trace of her voice in your head telling you that your voice was as cursed as the abomination you were. There was absolutely nothing capable of stealing the feeling that coursed through you every time your voice and Noah’s harmonized.

It was impossible to predict where this would lead in the future, but for the first time, you felt happy. You belonged to something where you could be yourself without it costing you your freedom.

You were finally you.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the screech of tires on asphalt. Startled, you turned to see a car speeding toward you from the other side of the road, threatening to mount the sidewalk where you stood. In an impulsive move, you threw yourself to the side, landing hard on the rough, gravel-strewn ground, a gasp of pain escaping your lips.

When you looked at the car—one you knew all too well—your entire body tensed, frozen on the ground. For a moment, you forgot about the scrape on your arm as your eyes locked on the driver.

“Found you, little girl,” Seth announced, grinning beneath his scruffy beard.

“Hey, what’s going on out here?” Noah’s voice, muffled by his hurried footsteps, cut through the tension. As he approached, Seth rolled up the window and shifted into reverse, speeding away down the wrong side of the road.

When Noah got closer, his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. He quickly crouched down, and you threw yourself into his arms. Without saying a single word, you clung to him so tightly that your fingers dug deep into his skin, your legs trembling uncontrollably.

“Shhh,” he whispered, wrapping his arms even tighter around you to hold you securely. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But everything seemed to hit your mind all at once. In seconds, you weren’t in Noah’s arms anymore—you were somewhere else, a filthy place as vile as your skin felt and as repulsive as the stench surrounding you. Your arms and legs turned immobile, locking up like a cramp, as the sensation of him closing in grew stronger and stronger. You wanted to scream, but nothing came out. He had severed your vocal cords because he enjoyed watching you cry.

Seth had stolen everything from you. And no matter where you tried to rebuild yourself, their shadow would always be there.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @anarchydomainglory ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @foliosgirl

[yveshiver]

Rafe Cameron - Late.

Lana Del Rey - Pretty When You Cry

The weekend was awful and you wanted to talk to someone that saturday night. Not just someone, but him. Yet you know the rules that both of you have set: no texting, no calling, no meetings. No need to repeat the past mistakes, but you just know you can't keep yourself off him. Today you need him, to feel yourself falling into his strong arms and feel as if nothing else exists in the world. No wondering how you didn't crash to some random car on the road since your head was full of other matters. Your mind drove you to his new little place, the apartment he got on the Silence Road. The phone showed the time 01:13, a bit too late for the friendly visit, and yet again, you are nowhere to be friends, not anymore. You got out of the car, the nights were getting cold and you stood there thinkin it over and over again, "Am I ready to lose him one more time?". And then you made one step closer to the entrance door, one more and few more. Two knocks at the door and no reply, you knocked again. "Yeah, it was fucking stupid I should just leave before anyone notices" and you start to stride back to the car breathless.

-No way. - He showed at the door in shorts only, topless and barefoot. His buzzcut was getting a little long, the goosebumps from the cold showed on the muscles all over the body and you noticed a little tattoo of a boat on the rib.

-I am sorry, I should have not come here. - Your tears started to show. - And you were asleep and it's late and we agreed not to ever.. do this.. again.. I'm… - You were lost of breath, the panic was getting you, it felt as if the ground beneath your feet was dissapearing and you were ready to fall.

-Hey, princess, I'm here, hey.. - He stepped closer to you.

-You can't go out like this, you'll catch a cold, it's very…

-Hey, it's ok, don't worry about me catching a cold, hey… - He was so close, he got your face into his hands trying to find the reason for this sudden appearance.

-Rafe, I'm sorry. - You couldn't look into his eyes. - I'm so sorry for being here, I know that we… - Tears were streaming down the face.

-It's ok, hey, look at me. Please, baby, look at me, I need to know what happened, you are safe with me, ok? It's ok, c'mhere. - He held you in his arms as close as it was humanly possible. He placed your head onto his chest, his arms were cuddled to you. For the first time this day you felt safe, it was such a liberating feeling. You stood there with your eyes closed knowing you can finally relax in his arms.

-Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby, ok? You are safe here, you know that. It's ok. I do wish you told me the reason of the tears tho. - He got your face into his hands once again, you always loved when he did that.

-I feel so helpless, I know I can't bother you with my things.

-Hey, your things are my things, I got you. - He put your strands of hair behind your ears, his fingers brushed through you hair as you tilted you head to his hand. You looked straight into his eyes, the striking blueness of them always swept you away. The colour of the sea, the colour of the sky, the colour of everything that gave you hope and comfort. Now they shined brighter in the night. You wanted the moment to last forever, but you knew you only had this night. You got out of his arms, took the breath of fresh air. He noticed you getting away and looked so worried.

-Hey, why don't you come inside and tell me everyhing, huh? - You felt as if he didn't want you to go away.

-Rafe, do you think it's a good idea?

-Sure. - He tried to seem unbothered, putting his hands into the pockets of the shorts. - Why not, and it is really chilly outside. - He shugged the shoulders. You noticed the freckes on them, oh God how much you loved these freckles.

-Why not, I can't let you get cold because of me, right? He started walking to the door checking if you were following. All you knew is how much you wanted this night to last forever, how much you wanted to feel him close to you, to look into his eyes, to have his hands holding you. You might not have another day with him, but at least you have tonight, right?

[sadplaguedoctor]

holding you, holding me

⤷ enji todoroki x fem!reader

summary: No one said being a hero would be easy. Especially not with the title of Number One. Endeavor’s worked to the brink and comes home to his wife, doing what she can to comfort her husband the way he deserves.

tags: crossposted on ao3, fluff, domesticity, enji and rei are divorced and his children no longer live with him, hurt/comfort, nudity, no smut, sharing a shower

ao3 version

The bed creaked in protest under Enji’s weight as he sat on the end with a sigh, knees spread apart allowing himself to rest his forearms against them. His eyes were downcast towards the carpet as he stared at his feet.

Work had practically killed him today. For some reason, every villain within a 30-mile radius seemed to want to wreak havoc all at once. Of course, he knew as a hero, he didn’t get to complain.

He knew what he signed up for the day he decided to follow in his father's footsteps and join this line of work. He knew what he’d go through to bring safety to his country.

But still, he yearned for a break.

Feeling the mattress dip under your husband’s weight, you pushed yourself up to sleepily crawl towards him. This wasn’t a rare occurrence for you, seeing him come home late with shoulders as tense as boulders.

It never got any easier, having to wait here and watch him work himself to death, unable to take away his burdens. Not to mention the change in emotions. Enji was already a stoic and reserved man, but with all these immense stressors baring down on him, he became essentially emotionless.

Your knees pressed against Enji’s lower back, your covered chest following suit so you were able to gently bring your arms over his shoulders and connect near his pectorals.

“Bad day?” You questioned in a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb him with unnecessary volume.

Enji’s shoulders dropped slightly with a deep release of breath, the tension and stress he had been holding onto all day struggling to fade even with your comforting touch. His aching muscles reluctantly stretched when he brought a hand up to carefully hold onto your wrists, keeping your hands near him.

“You have no idea,” he muttered.

“It’s just one thing after another— I’m so damn tired.”

His stress was even evident in his voice, appearing deeper and huskier than usual.

You pressed your lips comfortingly on the back of his neck, resting your head there for a long moment for you both to soak up the physical affection. Your arms gently tightened around his broad shoulders— a consoling attempt at soothing him with reassurance that you were there for him, both physically and emotionally.

On bad days like this where Enji grew frustrated and closed off, it was best to let him decide if and when he wanted to open up. Therefore, you didn’t pry any deeper. That was his decision to make and his alone.

You knew his journey of self betterment wasn’t easy, especially considering all the guilt and pain he holds within himself— you did the best you could from an outside point of view to offer support on his terms.

“M’ sorry,” you murmured against his neck, your lips growing warm from his body heat.

At the press of your lips against his neck, his muscles relaxed and he allowed himself to lean back into you. The way your biceps flexed instinctively over his shoulders assured him that he was safe to melt into you— fully trusting you to hold his weight as you had done many times over. He stayed in this position for a few moments, eventually opening his eyes and leaning forward with a sigh.

“I think I’ll take a shower,” he finally spoke, his voice less strained than before, “care to join me?”

“Mhm.. course,” you hummed as he pulled away— his hand letting go of your wrists, allowing you to drag your hands back over his shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze before removing them altogether. You used Enji’s shoulder to push yourself off the bed and make your way over to your shared wardrobe.

You grabbed a clean pair of sweatpants for your husband to wear after his shower and folded them up, placing them next to him on the bed so he could easily change when he came out.

“Ready?” You asked, bringing him out of his thoughts by placing a hand on his cheek, your thumb gently caressing over his stubble— eyes kind as they stared into his from where you stood between his spread legs.

In your eyes, Enji saw the most love and adoration he had ever seen anyone look at him with. It was a strange sight, accompanied by the unfamiliar tightness in his stomach. It worried him at first.

Love was a foreign feeling for him and he accepted early on in his life that he would most likely never feel it, and just as easily, never receive it. But then you appeared. So suddenly and unexpectedly. You taught him how to feel and that it’s okay to feel in the first place.

Despite everything.

His eyes traveled up your frame as he reached forward, a large calloused hand gently resting on the curve of your hips. His thumb brushed back and forth on your smooth skin, the smooth texture somehow working to bring him back to reality.

“Yeah,” he responded quietly, tilting his head into her hand briefly, relishing in the affection he was starved of for so long. With a final squeeze to your hip, he guided you back so he could stand to his full height and stretch his tired bones.

A smile spread across your face, watching him grunt and groan when his back popped.

“Careful, old man,” you teased him, “we wouldn’t want you breaking anything.”

This earned a well deserved glare from over his shoulder, something you couldn’t help but laugh at. At the beginning of your relationship, you couldn’t imagine joking with him like this. He was still somewhat closed off when you met.

But now, you don’t need to worry about a filter for your words. He loved every bit of you, including the bold way you spoke.

Once you both made it into the master bathroom, you turned your back to Enji and began taking off your jewelry whilst he turned on the water and set the temperature.

The only reason it wasn’t scalding, was because you were here. Not everyone can withstand molten.

“Come here,” you said softly, turning to face him and holding your hand out, palm up. His hand fit into yours like a puzzle piece despite the difference in size. You complimented each other in a way.

Slipping off his wedding band, you set it next to your own on the counter— making sure to place it in the decorative jewelry dish by the sink. You had lost an earring down the drain once before, so now neither of you took any chances.

The next few moments were spent undressing with interrupted glances at each other’s bodies. You both knew that sex was out of the question tonight as he was too exhausted, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t admire the beauty your husband presented.

“Is that new?” You asked, pointing to a never before seen scar right on his elbow— almost completely out of sight.

”Yes. I think it was a month ago from the villain who could manipulate metal,” he explained calmly, knowing you were just worried about him.

He wasn’t used to that either. Even after being together for this long, he wasn’t used to being fussed over. He was raised to take care of himself and that worries like these were pathetic. He silently thanks his children every day for teaching him differently.

You as well. Oh, what would he do without you?

”Well, I’m just glad you’re alright,” you replied with a smile, brushing your hand over the scar. Yes, you worried over him. It was only natural— but he could handle himself, and if there was something seriously wrong, he would tell you.

You trusted him like no other.

During your shower together— you held him in your arms before any washing could partake. The water beat down on his back while the warmth of his body made up for the lack of steaming water on yours.

You washed his hair for him, and helped him scrub his back and his arms while he rinsed out the shampoo from his hair. Then he did the same to you.

If someone had told Enji that he would have a chance to experience this level of domesticity and affection years ago, he would’ve never believed them.

Probably accusing them of being a villain. Poor hypothetical citizen.

Enji dressed himself in the bedroom while you stayed in the bathroom to take care of your hair, running the blow dryer for a limited amount of time so as to not be too loud and disturb the peace.

Once you were finished, you folded your towel and tossed it into the hamper along with yours and Enji’s clothes. You didn’t shy away from being nude around your husband— not having any reason to. You were both adults and have seen the ugliest parts of each other. Why not show off the beautiful?

“Let me help,” Enji’s deep voice finally reached your ears when he watched you approach your lotions sitting on top of your dresser.

“It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to,” you spoke to him reassuringly, really not wanting to make him feel entitled to help you. He was way more stressed than you have ever been, he deserved to rest.

“I want to.”

His assurance was firm— he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“You’ve done so much for me, it is my turn to return the favor.”

That was one of Enji’s flaws. He always felt like he had to pay people back when they offered him help, even if he never asked for it. He didn’t like feeling like he was in debt to people. He wanted to help. His job was to help. Not be helped.

A small smile spread across your lips and you nodded once to him, giving in and accepting his offer.

He ended up on his knee before your spot at the end of the mattress— insisting you settle your foot against his lower thigh so he could rub the lotion into your legs more efficiently.

His hands were strong and heavy upon your skin. His warmth combined with the rare softness the lotion gave him was almost heavenly.

While you were nowhere near as active as he was, you still spent your days on your feet— ending them with your calves sore and thighs slightly burning— and not the good kind of burning.

It was then that you realized the reason Enji had offered to do this in the first place. He knew that. He notices the way you lean against the kitchen counter when you think he isn’t looking. He knew how sore you were because he saw those same mannerisms in himself.

”Oh so you’re sneaky now,” you said in a mockingly accusatory tone, rolling your eyes at the way he glanced up at you— giving you nothing but a sly smile to go off of.

Either way, you were stuck now. The roles have been reversed and there was no fixing it until he decided he was finished.

Admittedly, being under the covers with Enji could sometimes be a pain— considering how warm he was. But it was a cold night tonight. Cold enough to give you a perfect excuse to huddle up in your husband’s strong arms and hide your face against his chest.

It was intimate, in a sense. The lights were off, only having the occasional glare of moonlight through the window— legs and arms tangled with Enji’s low breaths and hushed snores adding ambiance.

The sounds of him did wonders in lulling you to sleep. You even believed the calm atmosphere to affect your dreams.

You haven’t had a nightmare in years.

Thanks to Enji.

ignore if this seems a bit rushed, because it sort of was when i first wrote it. it was a personal comfort thing that i decided to post last minute </3

[reikurusu]

Five Times Rei Protected Kazuki + One Time Kazuki Protected Rei We all know there were more

[fisheito]

rereading the nuca pink doujin and seeing yakumo tear himself apart re: his snake form vs his human form all this agony and self-doubt and silent suffering and fear of rejection like "if i looked less human would u hate me" , "if u saw me in my true form wouldn't that be horrible. terrifying. disgusting" , "if i admitted i want to swallow you whole would you think worse of me"

and i imagine him asking something like this to the crowd of clan members , who are , undeniably,, a group of Kinky Fuckers

they all smile with the serenity and carefully masked excitement of a horny olivine. masterful beautiful reassuring expressions (errr..... masked to different degrees depending on the clan member)

[moeblob]

Rey, who is in my very biased opinion, one of the funniest "girls" I have because she's just a guy, truly. Like Rey is just short for Reynold because he was recruited by a a goddess to help the hero she selected and the hero is conveniently Reynold's younger brother. So he agrees to help under the condition that the goddess gives him a female body for the other world. She's like "really odd flex but whatever" and gives him a female form and he's like "you know. I can't really blame anyone but myself for not specifying 'please don't turn me into a Lisa Frank personification'."

[caramelmochacrow]

"Beating so fast, seems like it'll burst..."

[belltrigger]

Submastober Day 24!

Inspiration: There's an older OC-tober prompt-list here that I am using.

Title: Something Feels Off Prompt: Forgotten Word count: 1032 Synopsis: Everything is soooo super normal for Emmet. Yup.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

One day, Emmet went to work. Everything that morning seemed normal. He had a small breakfast of peanut butter toast, a chocolate protein shake and banana; although he didn't like to eat first thing, he felt like he was letting someone down if he didn't try to eat something. It was raining but Emmet had an extra large umbrella, perfect for even two people to walk under, so he stayed perfectly dry during his trek. The schedule he had set for himself offered him enough time to stop at a local bakery, and the owner was always nice enough to give him a double order of whatever he bought. Although he loved sweets, it was absolutely too much for him to eat while still fresh, so he always offered half to the agents in the Subway.

Cloud made the strangest expression when Emmet brought it up, though. When Emmet said that the Agents could decide who got the spare today, Cloud's eyebrows creased and he paused before saying something like “Yeah, a spare today too, huh?” Emmet couldn't exactly put his finger on it, but it almost felt like Cloud thought something else before changing his mind. There was a hesitation that didn't feel natural, as though Cloud had an idea and then instantly forgot it.

Emmet decided that Cloud should have the spare, and gave him the box containing the fist sized cream puff. Cloud looked down at it, with the same confused but processing expression from before, and then finally nodded and thanked him.

An odd interaction, but Emmet let it be. Cloud was probably tired! He'd been working earlier in the morning than normal, taking care of the maintenance of some infrequently used tunnels in the subway system. It was an awful big job for just one of the Agents, but Emmet had to stay on the normal shift in order to engage all the challengers that met him on his Double Battle Line. Cloud also didn't drink coffee all that often, so he must have needed a pick-me-up by this time of the morning. Emmet decided he would check on him again later, just to make sure he was okay to go home at the end of his shift.

The highlight of the day was when White visited with her twin Black. It wasn't often that both of them came to visit at the same time, and the Agents made a big deal about visiting twins. Emmet thought it was interesting, yes, but he was more excited about how both of them would challenge him to a double battle. Each of them offered up one pokémon at a time to deal with his two pokémon team. For them, he carried six pokémon instead of his normal four; the pokémon that made up his team varied, depending on how much of a challenge he felt like being. After all, they came all the way to the Subway to challenge him, he should make it worth their while.

When they arrived, they both had the same strange reaction to him that Cloud had. They greeted him warmly and enthusiastically, but both hesitated oddly as if there were more to what they were going to say. They exchanged a look, though Emmet couldn't discern the meaning, but they shrugged off whatever it was and continued their conversation with him otherwise normally.

It was an exciting battle with them to be sure. However, watching them strategize together, Emmet felt a little jealous? Or homesick? It was a strange feeling in his stomach, almost a yearning, but it made no sense. What could he possibly be yearning for? He was battling just as he always loved to! He got to synchronize his pokémon, another thing he loved. His challengers were having a fun time against him, smiling so brightly.

There was supposed to be more to the battle.

But in the end, he won against them. White called (yelled) across the battlefield to him, giving him a play by play of all the things she thinks she should have done. Black simply snapped his fingers with a 'dang!' Emmet felt a simultaneous need to tease White and encourage her at the same time. Emmet split the difference, encouraging her first and then telling her that maybe she should have faced twenty battles before he let her face him. While White huffed and puffed, Black closed the distance between them and thanked Emmet for letting them come despite all things.

Emmet tilted his head, hands clasped behind his back. What did Black mean? He asked as much, and Black sort of stared blankly at him for a moment, looking very much like he'd walked into a room and forgot why he went there in the first place. White jogged over to join them, putting her hands on her hips. She couldn't explain his comment either, defaulting to a shrug and a casual reference to Emmet having a busy challenge schedule.

That seemed fair, and verrrrry thoughtful of them. When Emmet said so, White asked if they could get some BP for being thoughtful. Black chastised her but also seemed excited at the prospect of getting BP. They both groaned when Emmet chirped that they would have to battle him with more enthusiasm if they wanted free BP like that. Although they made a big deal of groaning, White promised that she would definitely be back soon and earn SO much BP. Emmet would run out of BP, she said!

As they left, they turned to each other, energetically discussing the battle they just had. Black clenched his hands into eager fists, and White waved her arms every which way, clearly emulating moves that had happened in the battle. Emmet watched them leave, waving as they did so, and felt the ache in his stomach spread up into his chest. Something about it just felt really familiar. He wanted to do that too. It felt like he should be doing it. But unlike White and Black, he didn't have someone to immediately turn to. It really, really felt like he should have someone, though.

But that wasn't something you just forgot, right?

[spectordameron]

i hate the filoniverse because when I try to look for star wars out and about, all I see is ahsoka shit now or grogu. and like fine I like din and grogu just fine they're my blorbo-in-laws, but it is a fucking embarrassment that all you can find for star wars these days is shows that are often poorly designed, constructed in far worse ways than the MCU ever gets criticized for, and look like exceedingly bad fan films. As opposed to anything for the lovingly crafted multimillion dollar making, record breaking trilogy of films that an entirely new generation grew up watching because Lucasfilm are a bunch of pussies who got scared because they got a loud reminder of how fucking toxic the fandom is and decided to play it safe with increasingly lower budget, giving Filoni free reign to do his Frankensteined sequel trilogy that ignores the importance of the Skywalker Saga as what Star Wars actually is, or stories that are just Gritty and Grimdark because hey that sells also doesn't it?

It has been ten years since the first teaser trailer for the Force Awakens came out, and nine since it hit theaters, and every time Lucasfilm opens their mouths it's to spit out something that has been done a fazillion times over or completely misunderstands what Star Wars is, while completely ignoring their still popular characters from the sequel era — to instead focus on characters that are either alien or you never/rarely see their face or characters that have been whitewashed as hell, because it's better to appease a bunch of middle aged white men and stroke their dicks for what they think star wars is like, rather than sticking to your guns and doing more and doing better with your actually inclusive set of films.

But yeah hey. Let's listen to the Battle of Jakku for a fazillionth time or pretend that Ahsoka is an interesting character or like a tv show needed to be made into a movie. Why care at all about a trilogy of movies that came out very recently and were largely successful, despite fandom toxicity?

[airanke]

Ch 426 if Abiteth was involved.

Rough storyline under the cut.

Abiteth is let into whatever facility Touya is being kept in because she's an upstanding hero. She feigns her death at Touya's hands, and her family (quirk shenanigans led to them being undetected) murder anyone who comes across them. Due to more quirk shenanigans, the video feed for the area is largely corrupted. Security will only see what Abiteth's family wants them to see.

She asks Touya how much time he can give her, and he tells her a week, to which she states "that is more than enough" and smuggles him out of Japan to Germany. They are there for a week. They spend time together. Hawks and Enji are losing their SHIT back in Japan trying to figure out where Touya is and how he got out. Also yes Abiteth has more family shenanigans that is what gets her out of Japan and into the air before the heroes find out that anything has happened (canonically to her story, her cousin is Germany's #1 hero ✌️)

After caring for Touya in Germany (yes caring for him in every way because his body is LITERALLY DYING, and Touya asks her if being his caretaker disgusts her, to which she replies, "no. It is you and your body, and I love you and your body"). They talk. They see the aurora. They are intimate one last time*. At the end of the week, Touya tells Abiteth that he's ready and she prepares to fly him back to Japan. Touya's last words to her are, "I think I love you." He passes away in her arms. Abiteth never cried in front of him and she has a good long cry on the plane.

Hawks at this point did realize that Abiteth was not dead and goes to the airport with Enji/Rei after he's informed that a plane is landing in which the pilot openly stated they were "returning with Deviore and some special cargo". Abiteth has a cruel smile on her face when she disembarks from the plane with Touya's body in her arms.

She allows Hawks/Enji/Rei to be present for the funeral but insists on digging Touya's grave on her own until she can't uphold her facade anymore and she asks her father for help (he, her uncles, and her brother step in to help). Abiteth cries over Touya's corpse and pleads: “I want him back. Give him back to me. Give him back to me.”

After Touya is buried, Abiteth has some choice words for Hawks/Enji and then puts on her new mask, which is embedded with Touya's jaw and teeth, at which point she states the above AND pulls the Frankenstein pose.

*it is not specified how much of Touya's body remains intact, so I'm going with him having one functional arm and most of his body, but he looks very much like a burnt and then frozen corpse for the most part. Anyway this whole thing is like 17 pages long roughly and still going and I was gonna' draw it out but that'll take me years so you get this preview and a rough run-down instead.

Also Abiteth is pregnant BUT BUT BUT!! She is already at least two months along (not quite at the point of obviously showing her pregnancy) and she conceived BEFORE she stole Touya's dying body away to Germany.

[docholligay]

I LOVE how she's showing off here. They're all fighting with wooden practice swords, and she is passing her hand just close enough to them, without really touching them, to show them that she can. She has the upper hand. They are children to her.

It's so UNBELIEVABLY ARROGANT and so of course I am obsessed with it. As I often say, it's only arrogance if you're wrong! It's showboating. It's teasing. It's toying with someone and letting them now how little you think of them. Incredible. Love her.

Before you comment: Spoiler policy and basic assumptions!

[astranauticus]

ok i like rushed through the whole orv webtoon way too fast so now i have thoughts going in like 5 different directions but ep121-123 drive me so fucking insane actually. every time i think about those two conversations i have to sit down

[weedle-testaburger]

unpopular opinion but actually i love when heroes refuse to kill their enemies and no one is gonna make me not love it