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#Hindsight soundtrack
vroenis · 1 year
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Stop being a thief & buy this fucken music.
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oakskull · 1 year
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hey did yoy guys know that heathers was a comedy
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umilily · 2 months
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remembered the 80s compilation cd i was obssessed with as a child. that's it for sleep tonight.
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shittywriterbrain · 6 months
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i said i liked that max didn't drop the entire season at once but i take that back. this two episodes a week thingy has me acting normal and even disinterested in one of my favourite shows. wtf
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beardedhandstoadshark · 4 months
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Why are games so expensive nowadays? What the doodly doo is going on? We don't even get the physical copy anymore.
Pretty much the same as with movie budgets, development costs and greed!
On one hand, all the big games nowadays obvs need more to build so they can keep up with the scope (graphics, length, coding complexity, etc) so that cranks the price up- Tetris isn’t a Final Fantasy 7 Remake- but then all the major companies are led by greedy corporate assholes who like to squeeze every cent out of everything. It’s also why you straight up have to pay extra for your ps5 to even be able to play physical - same price but no production costs in making it physical, so they’re pushing in that direction.
Though, if bought in a physical location, sometimes shops just like to sell things for more than the producer sets as a price. Local now-nonexistent-basically Wallmart would put the default price for Nintendo games at 65€, while the hardware store across the street sells them for the standard 50€ over here. That is…really not that much different from the 45€ I kept forking off for 3DS games 10 years ago, actually? Or the 40 that Wii and DS games were priced at 20 (ouch) years ago. And most of the modern games that aren’t obvious "will be a game awards nominee“ drop to 30 after a year anyways, while the others often get sales in the eshop at least.
Meanwhile Nintendo of America puts all these games at a base 60-80 and apparently never does sales, ever, Pokemon Company crunches the dev’s to hell and back to milk their content farm because there’ll always be enough people blinded by nostalgia to buy them at full price, and some companies are EA and Konami.
So, hello corporate greed. All the exec’s just think, why make expensive games cheap if people buy cheaply made games for expensive prices? And they see the numbers go up, so it works. By the time a game has been broken too much to still make money, they’ll have made (or bought) a new one to rip all promise out off.
TLDR depending on what device you play on, it’s not actually changed that much, but generally speaking indie games (or setting sails) are the way to go because there’s no corporate meddling, ig.
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thoughts-reasons · 2 years
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dee-writes-smut · 17 days
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SPRING
FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader
SUMMARY on a mission to discuss peace negotiations with the Illyrians, you find yourself in a tricky spot without your best friend. (part two is up)
CONTENT WARNINGS descriptions of injuries, pain, torture, depression, and misogyny. This one is dark, please ensure you are feeling comfortable and safe.
AUTHORS NOTE today I woke up and chose violence apparently. This fic is unbelievably long and It's been a while, so I thought I would appease you while I continue to work on the second part of the mark fic. I hope you all enjoy. <3
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In the gentle embrace of spring, as nature stirred from its winter slumber, the world seemed to come alive in a symphony of sights and sounds. The air grew lively with vibrant colors of blossoming trees, their delicate leaves unfurling, whispering hope upon the wind. Each leaf and flower, each insect and animal all seeming to dance in the sunlight and bask in new chances of growth. It was truly a testament to beauty and resilience, to life.
But, amidst the beauty of renewal, there lingered a sense of sorrow, a deep heaviness that hung in the air like a dark cloud just breaching above the horizon. Spring had brough not only the promise of new beginnings, but a painful reminder for all that had been lost and forgotten. And as rain fell softly upon the earth, calling to mother nature to gift the soil with fertility, memories of pain consumed you. The gentle patter of raindrops against the earth did not serve to remind you of new beginnings, but set a somber soundtrack in your thoughts, a melancholy melody that echoed the ache you felt in your heart.
As pollen filled the air, coloring the wind and triggering allergies that left you sneezing and sniffling, you couldn't help but feel trapped within the confines of your own sorrow, isolated from the prospering world around you. Vibrant colors and sweet scents did nothing to comfort, rather building a prison of sorts, confining you to the memories of the person you once were, of the life you used to lead.
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(Springtime, The Illyrian Mountains)
As you and Azriel ventured into the heart of the Illyrian steeps on a mission, the harsh terrain mirrored the cold, hardened demeanor of its inhabitants. The people of this unforgiving land, with their anger and hostility, were the only semblance of family you had ever known. Yet, their begrudging tolerance of your existence only fueled the resentment that simmered within you. How could you ever understand a people who would dare to strip you of your wings, your very essence of freedom, as a cruel display of dominance and worthlessness?
"Interesting how Rhys sends the two of us, who would sooner see the Illyrians burn, for peace negotiations," you remarked with a bitter chuckle, nudging Azriel to draw him from his thoughts. Azriel, your closest friend for three centuries, had become a steadfast companion since that fateful night when you first crossed paths with Mor at Rita's. Though the details of that encounter remained a blur, the bond forged between you and Azriel stood firm.
"Cass is stuck with Nesta. She’s been feeling off lately, she senses something stirring, but isn’t sure what. Elain shared her sentiments," Azriel grumbled, his countenance slipping into the stoic mask of the shadowsinger, overshadowing his gentle and kind-hearted nature that was generally reserved for you and the rest of your chosen family.
"So, Rhys sent the only other two Illyrians he knows. How convenient for us," you retorted, your wings instinctively folding in close as you navigated the lifeless streets of the Illyrian camp. By now, they had learned better than to challenge your presence for too long.
"Just stick close," Azriel advised, his voice tinged with caution. “There are still many men who wish to see you wingless and under their influence.”
You rolled your eyes and let out an exasperated huff but nodded in agreement. "Stubborn bastards," you muttered under your breath.
In hindsight, perhaps openly disparaging them while walking through their camp wasn't the wisest choice. But they were well aware of your disdain for them, just as you knew the depths of their animosity towards you. They had cast you out like prey when you were just a child, and you had since made it your life's mission to rise above them in every way possible. The mere thought of your superiority grated on them to no end, and you reveled in it.
Azriel chuckled softly, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. He nudged you back in the side as you approached Lord Devlon’s home, the both of you sharing a sullen look of understanding before Azriel knocked.
The response was immediate, Lord Devlon swinging the door open with a scowl that mirrored Azriel's own grim expression. "I don't care that you force us to let our women keep their wings," he spat, his tone dripping with disdain, "but I will not negotiate with one. Especially her."
Azriel's growl rumbled deep in his chest, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "I don’t give a fuck about your preferences," he snapped, his voice laced with barely restrained anger.
You sighed, your wings flaring behind you in agitation as you shot a withering glare at Devlon. Barely missing Azriel's own, which mirrored your movements, his solidarity unwavering.
Turning to Azriel, you spoke with a sense of resignation. "Go on. I'll catch up with Emerie and a few others."
Though reluctant to part ways, Azriel relented, “Fine,” he growled, knocking his forehead gently against yours. It was a gesture you both shared, a silent reassurance that you were never truly alone in the face of adversity. With a nod of encouragement, you turned and walked off Devlon’s steps, making your way back into town to seek solace in the company of the only Illyrian, aside from your bat boys, whom you found more than tolerable.
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After sharing a drink with Emerie and catching up for a few hours, you felt a tug of responsibility urging you to check in on Devlon and Azriel. Yet, deep down, a part of you secretly hoped that Azriel had taken matters into his own hands and dealt with the pompous leader once and for all, though you dared not voice such thoughts aloud.
As you stepped outside, the tranquility of spring in the mountains enveloped you like a comforting embrace. The harsh winds of winter had given way to a gentle, cool breeze that whispered through the trees, carrying with it the promise of warmer days ahead. It was a peaceful scene, if one could ignore the harsh realities of life in this unforgiving land, and the unspeakable horrors inflicted upon its women.
You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to bask in the crisp, cool air, a stark contrast to the warmer weather of Velaris. But before you could fully immerse yourself in the tranquility of the moment, they struck.
It happened so quickly, the ambush catching you off guard. Before you could react, a blow to the back of your head sent you reeling, darkness descending upon you like a heavy shroud. In the blink of an eye, consciousness slipped away, leaving you vulnerable and defenseless against the unknown assailants. If you had had the chance to process the situation, perhaps embarrassment would have crept in at being caught off guard so easily. But the darkness of unconsciousness claimed you swiftly, dragging you down into its depths before you could even muster a response.
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"Wake up, whore," a voice hissed in your ear, jolting you from the haze of unconsciousness. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to make sense of your surroundings, the harshness of the voice sending a shiver down your spine. Blinking against the darkness that enveloped you, you felt a heavy weight pressing down upon your head—a bag, thick and suffocating, that obscured your vision and when you moved—thrashed— against the seat you were in, you quickly realized that you were bound.
Shit.
The bag over your head muffled your senses, leaving you completely disoriented and vulnerable to your captors. Panic surged through you at this revelation, causing a sudden spark of energy to send you thrashing against your restraints, deep realization sinking in your stomach with sickening dread.
The voice that had startled you awake, one that sounded awfully familiar, chuckled darkly, a deep, cruel sound that sent shivers cascading down your spine. “No need to struggle, sweetheart,” he mocked, “you’re not going anywhere.”
Your heart hammered against your chest as you strained to make sense of your surroundings, to recognize even the slightest detail, but all you could make out was the stench of damp earth and mildew. Fear clawed its way down your throat, leaving deep gauges as you tried to keep your composure, to get out of this place, this nightmare, before it was too late.
“Where am I?” You growled, your voice heavy with defiance as you demanded your location, only a slight lilt of fear made its way past your throat.
“You're not the one making demands here,” he sneered, tone dripping with pure malice. He must have been an Illyrian. No one else would have the gall to try something like this, either too afraid of you, or too afraid of Azriel’s wrath. Just the thought of him filled you with a desperate longing, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume you.
As you struggled to piece together your next move, the sound of footsteps approached, echoing ominously in the darkness. You braced yourself for what was to come, steeling your resolve to survive whatever horrors awaited you.
The bag was roughly pulled from your head, and you blinked against the sudden onslaught of light, squinting to make out the figure before you. As your vision cleared, you found yourself face to face with your captor, Lyris, who you used to train with as a kid, his eyes cold and calculating as he loomed over you with a wicked grin.
As the realization of your fate settled like a heavy stone in your chest, Lyris approached, his steps deliberate and purposeful. He wielded a gleaming dagger in his hand, the cold metal glinting in the dim light of the chamber. Your heart hammered in your chest as fear gripped you like a vice, every instinct screaming at you to fight, to flee, but the chains binding you rendered you helpless.
With a cruel smirk, Lyris loomed over you, his eyes alight with sadistic delight. "Time to finally take what's mine, what those bastard whoresons took from me so many years ago," he sneered, the dagger poised menacingly in his grasp.
Your breath caught in your throat as the blade descended, slicing through the air with a sickening sound that made your blood run cold. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the searing pain that was sure to follow.
The first cut came swift and merciless, a sharp agony tearing through your being as the blade bit into your flesh. A strangled cry tore from your lips, the sound echoing off the walls of the chamber as your world exploded into a whirlwind of pain and terror.
“Look at these pretty wings,” Lyris hummed, his voice filled with the rasp of adrenaline. “I cannot wait to hang them on the wall of our home. To keep you quiet, pliant, and filled with my children; as you should have been from the start.” His voice, one you used to cherish, one that reminded you of the little boy who would sneak away to help you, to train you against the backs of his mentors, was now torture.
But the torment did not end there. With ruthless precision, Lyris continued to wield his blade, each stroke bringing fresh waves of agony that threatened to consume you whole. You writhed and thrashed against your restraints; your cries of anguish lost in the darkness of the chamber. Through tear-blurred vision, you caught a glimpse of your wings, once symbols of freedom and strength, now mangled, bloodied and broken beyond recognition. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you watched helplessly, the realization of your loss hitting you like a physical blow.
And as the last remnants of your wings fell away, severed and discarded like worthless scraps of flesh, a hollow emptiness settled in the pit of your stomach. You were no longer whole, no longer the person you once were. You had been robbed of your identity, your essence, and in their place remained only the cruel scars of your torment.
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In the oppressive darkness of your captivity, each passing moment stretched into an eternity, the weight of your mutilation a relentless burden threatening to crush not just your body, but your very spirit. Bound and helpless, you lay upon the cold stone floor, every breath a labored struggle against the suffocating silence that surrounded you. The air itself felt heavy with despair, pressing down upon you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you gasping for air, for relief, for any semblance of hope.
Your limbs, once strong and nimble, now felt heavy and leaden, shackled by chains that dug into your flesh with cruel insistence, leaving angry welts in their wake. Each movement sent a jolt of searing pain shooting through your battered body, a constant reminder of the brutality you had endured.
Amidst the shadows that danced like malevolent phantoms in the night, a soft rustle of wings broke through the oppressive stillness, the whisper of shadows weaving through the air like an ancient, mournful melody. Your heart surged in your chest as a familiar presence enveloped the room, a warmth that banished the icy chill that had settled deep within your bones, offering a glimmer of solace in the midst of the suffocating darkness.
Azriel.
With a grace honed by centuries of training, Azriel moved with silent determination, his movements a symphony of lethal precision and raw emotion. Each step he took seemed to reverberate through the chamber, echoing the pounding of your heart as he closed in on your captors, his eyes burning with a fierce determination that bordered on desperation.
The sound of steel meeting flesh rang out like a mournful dirge, punctuated by the anguished cries of your assailants as they fell before Azriel's relentless onslaught, their tormentors becoming the tormented. The room erupted into chaos, the air thick with the scent of blood and sweat as Azriel moved with a fluidity that bordered on otherworldly, his wings unfurling like a dark, protective cloak as he danced amidst the shadows. It was a sight to behold, a dance of death performed with a grace and precision that belied the brutality of its execution, a testament to the depth of his devotion and the strength of his love.
Through the haze of pain and fear, a surge of gratitude washed over you, a profound sense of relief that threatened to overwhelm your senses. As Azriel approached, his hand outstretched in silent invitation, you reached out to him, your fingers trembling with exhaustion and relief, your heart overflowing with a love and gratitude that defied words. In that moment, as his steady presence enveloped you, you knew that you were not alone in the darkness.
“Gods, what did they do to you,” Azriel breathed, his own hands shaking as he helped you to your feet, the weight of your brokenness heavy in his arms. You swayed unsteadily, a marionette with severed strings, before collapsing against him, the pain of your loss too great to bear alone.
“Did-” You are cut off by a hiss of pain, the sharp intake of breath a dagger through your chest. You took a moment to collect yourself, the darkness at the edges of your vision threatening to engulf you. Azriel, a bastion of strength in the storm, gently guided you to the cold stone floor, his touch a lifeline in the suffocating darkness. “Did you kill him?” you managed to choke out, the words heavy with desperation and fear, each syllable a struggle against the encroaching oblivion.
“Who?” Azriel's voice was a low rumble, his grip on your hand grounding you in the present moment, a beacon of stability amidst the chaos that threatened to consume you both. Outside the confines of your enclosure, the sounds of chaos echoed in the air, a symphony of violence and retribution made in your honor.
“Lyris. Did you kill him?” Your voice wavered, the weight of your words a burden too heavy to bear alone. You felt lightheaded, the loss of blood draining your strength with each passing moment.
“Lyris? He was here?” Azirel's growl reverberated in the cavernous space, a primal sound that sent shivers down your spine. He was the only one you confided in about your history with the Illyrian male, the scars of your past laid bare before him.
You sniffled and sobbed, the floodgates of grief finally breaking as you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of your wings in the safety of Azriel’s presence. His arms wrapped around you, a shield against the storm raging within you, offering solace in the face of unspeakable loss.
“My wings?” you asked through sobs, the words a whisper against the backdrop of your anguish.
“Not here.” He whispered mournfully, his voice a lament for all that had been taken from you. You felt yourself deflate further, the realization settling like a heavy stone in the pit of your stomach. Your once friend, now tormentor, had escaped with the remnants of your shattered dreams, leaving you broken and bereft in his wake.
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In the aftermath of your rescue, the pain that gnawed at your soul was not just physical but a deep, unrelenting ache that seemed to permeate every fiber of your being. With each labored breath, you felt the absence of your wings like a gaping wound, a constant reminder of the brutality inflicted upon you.
As Azriel guided you through the darkness, his presence a flickering candle in the void, you stumbled and faltered, your body racked with tremors of agony. Each step sent shards of pain shooting through your mutilated form, a relentless onslaught that threatened to consume you whole.
The absence of your wings was not just a physical loss but a spiritual one, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. Once a symbol of freedom and strength, they were now nothing more than cruel stumps, a mockery of what once was. With each beat of your heart, the pain pulsed like a funeral dirge, a haunting melody that echoed through the caverns of your soul. You longed to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all, but the darkness of your despair swallowed your cries before they could escape your lips.
And through it all, Azriel remained by your side, his presence a silent witness to your suffering. But even his steady presence could not chase away the shadows that threatened to consume you, leaving you adrift in a sea of despair.
As you emerged into the cool embrace of freedom, blinking against the harsh light of day, you felt a sense of emptiness wash over you—a hollow void that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The road ahead loomed dark and uncertain, a twisting labyrinth of pain and sorrow that threatened to swallow you whole.
[NEXT]
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autonomoustoybox · 4 months
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Do you ever think about how jarring it must have been, for the Turaga, to see the Matoran doing their work after the move to Mata Nui?
Like... Think about it. Metru Nui was a very, very rigid caste system. Everyone was made for a role, they'd fulfil that role, they wouldn't change from that role for thousands of years. And more pertinently, those roles were largely academic, borne of a highly developed civilisation. Then, you get to Mata Nui, and suddenly everything changed. Everyone just lost all of their memories, and with that a huge amount of their identities, and their previous roles with it. In fact, many of their roles are just outright nonexistent, in a world of stone and wood, with no city, with no Metrus, with nothing that the Turaga would have known. Indeed, Matau's first reaction to Mata Nui was "Where are the chutes?"!
Obviously, the Matoran could adapt - a blank slate can easily have anything imprinted onto it, after all, and they were made to work - but for the Turaga, who were watching their warped, diminished friends and kinsmen who sounded the same as before but acted perhaps very differently, and already had to suffer through the lie of concealing Metru Nui, it must have been bizarre in a way 'suffocating' couldn't possibly describe.
Imagine being Vakama, a craftsman among a city of crafters, who only ever made armour, being forced to see his fellow forgemates sharpen blades and call themselves a guard, a militia, an army, hunters and killers. Imagine much the same of Matau, who once spent his time driving new machines down clear tracks with his kin, now having to make do with tempermental Rahi in a twisting maze of branches and vines.
Imagine being Nokama or Nuju, who spent all their life prior as academics, pouring through tomes and staring at stars, watching as those untold millenia of knowledge simply disappear, to be replaced with hard physical chores like fishing or crafting or, indeed, fighting off Rahi. Imagine the same of Whenua, who once spent all his time studying creatures brought to him, now only providing the knowledge to make them go away, as the the scholars of all the Rahi life of the universe spend their days digging through the earth with pickaxes (not even drilling machines)!
Certainly, these are necessary roles, duties to be honoured and fulfilled to a a standard high enough to ensure continued life, but... In some ways, it must have been utterly humiliating. Sickening, even, to some.
Not to Onewa though. Pretty much nothing changed for him.
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This train of thought brought to you by the new Essenger remake of the Mata Nui Online Game II Soundtrack, specifically https://youtu.be/MAierT0S82o?si=XB9s03CUTCRubFOn . I never played much of it, but I distinctly remembered Hali being a weaver, creating thread from flax fibres; which, given the hindsight of Ga-Metru being a giant university/research centre, makes the role seem strangely small in comparison to her duties before. Of course, now she's a Toa, I suppose she doesn't have time much for either!
[Edit: I posted this at midnight when I was falling alseep and totally got the names of Onewa, Nuparu, and Whenua muddled up... This happens a lot even when I'm fully awake though. Edited for clarity.]
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try-set-me-on-fire · 11 months
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whatever you write is probably going to take me straight out but i love the way your fics do that to me, so "laughing while kissing" for the soft prompts please and thank you 🤗
-@buckactuallys
Soundtrack to this one. Soft prompts! Finished ones!
“Chimney’s doing another round of s’mores, you want one?”
Buck half turns from his spot at the edge of the tide. It was hot enough earlier that the cool bite of the ocean around his ankles still feels good as they creep closer to midnight than evening. “Nah, I had like eight of them with the kids.”
Eddie does a little hop over the foamy surf to stand beside him, and then licks his marshmallowy fingers clean. “Suit yourself.”
Another wave comes in and Eddie does his little hop over it again, except they really are at the very edge of the water so there's not really much foam to avoid. Buck squints at him a little, but he's unable to help the fond smile yanking his mouth around.
"What… are you doing?"
"Huh? Oh…" Eddie looks down at his feet and lets out a sort of bashful laugh. "Uh, we came to the coast to visit Pepa when we were kids - like little kids, I don't know if I was even five yet - and, uh…" Eddie looks at him, also sort of squinting and smiling. "I had it in my head that if the very edge of a wave touched me I'd get eaten by an alligator."
"W- why?" Buck gets out past a laugh. Eddie shoves him gently.
"I dunno, I was four. Made sense at the time. I think I maybe thought California was in Florida."
Buck laughs again, and when the next wave comes and they both hop over it he laughs harder, hands on his knees as Eddie chuckles beside him. He hasn’t bothered to straighten up when Eddie speaks again.
“Not in a bonfire mood?”
Buck looks out at the moon’s reflection cutting a path all the way to the distant islands that are just visible on this clear, bright night. “Just nice to be in a different ocean for a bit.”
Eddie hums, and kicks a little wet sand at him. “Now who thinks he’s in Florida? Same ocean, Buck, we’re two hours from home.”
“You know what I mean.” He waves a hand in a sweeping gesture. “It’s… vacation ocean.”
Eddie’s smiling in a way that seems to have trapped the words in his mouth, and Buck has to look back out at the waves or the full moon will give away the burning in his cheeks. “Yeah,” Eddie says eventually. “I know what you mean.”
Buck thinks he does. Eddie is the responsible one, of the two of them, level headed and no nonsense and calm, so it's been a little delightful to watch him throw himself into this camping trip with reckless abandon. He’d challenged the firefighters among them in a swimming race out to the floating platforms just offshore, begged alongside the kids to go walk down the beach to the little burger joint for ice cream, and charged around the woods with them after dinner, playing right along in their game of hunting for a spaceship full of aliens that might want to make friends, blinking their flashlights and throwing their laughter up into the sky in attempts to communicate.
Buck had spent the week before the trip feeling kind of sad about getting dumped, and feeling kind of guilty for not feeling more sad, and feeling a little… something, about how relieved Eddie had looked when he’d told him things with Marisol had also fizzled out. He’d liked Natalia, a lot. She was cool, and beautiful, and thought he was too, and she knew so little about him and his life that she felt like a safe place to exist without context for a while. It’s all a little dreamy, though, in hindsight, and Buck thinks he’d maybe tricked himself into finding a new method of running away from his own life disguised as grabbing on to a new one.
Vacation ocean. Maybe that’s what this is, too, another escape. Except Eddie is here, standing next to him and real as anything.
Buck feels like he’s got all the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle floating around in his head, and has just started in on the edges when Eddie says “Hello, earth to Buck.”
“Oh, sorry, were you saying something?” Buck takes a step further into the water, back to the waves despite any good advice about ocean safety. Eddie’s watching out for him, he’ll be ok.
“No, not really.”
“Did you ever find them?” Buck is wet up to his mid calves now.
“Who?”
“The friendly aliens.”
Eddie’s face scrunches into a grin. “Uh huh. Turns out they like s’mores too. And look a lot like Maddie and Jee-Yun.”
Buck breathes out laughter, and Eddie steps closer to him. “I didn’t text Bobby this morning.”
“Well, he was like five feet away. Drew short straw, had to set up his tent next to you and your rhinoceros snores.”
Buck takes another step back, and Eddie takes another step forward. They’re wet to the knees, now. “I mean… I was less surprised today. When I woke up.”
Eddie’s expression almost looks neutral, Buck can only see the smile because he might know this man’s face better than his own. “Yeah?”
“Mmhm.”
Eddie nods. “That’s good. You’ve seemed a little… something.”
“Before now, or this weekend?”
Eddie tilts his head, in a move so like Buck himself it makes him smile. “Both. In different ways.”
Buck takes another half step back, water licking at his thighs. “I think things were a little dull before. I think things are a little bright now. Letting my eyes adjust.”
Eddie nods again, thoughtful, and just a hair nervous. “Hope you like the view.”
Buck grins with half his mouth, biting his cheek with the other. “Mmhm.”
They’re quiet for a moment, the gentle roar of waves around them, a distant happy shout drifting over from the campground. Eddie takes the half step to close the distance. “Buck,” he sighs. “I have bad news.”
“What?” He frowns, and his stomach flip flops just a little. He’d like to think he knows Eddie well enough that he hadn’t misread the situation, but he’s been known to be an idiot about these kinds of things before.
“Unfortunately…” Eddie tilts his head forward, very close to Buck’s own, and says “There were also evil aliens and I did get possessed by one,” before shoving him backwards into the sea.
Buck goes down laughing, and comes up spluttering. Eddie is giggling as he moves sideways in the surf to escape revenge, but he’s not trying all that hard and Buck’s lunge takes him off his feet. They roll around in the water, a lot colder now that it's not just their ankles submerged, and end up in a kind of breathless tangled together kneeling situation, rocked by the current as it comes and goes.
“You piece of shit,” Buck says, fully grinning, and Eddie roars with laughter. “We’re gonna get our tents soaking wet.”
“So we change in yours and you come to mine,” Eddie says, a little scared and a little brave.
Buck splashes him, and Eddie laughs, and then Buck kisses him, and Eddie laughs into that too, the sound a little disbelieving and a lot giddy. Buck pushes forward into it and Eddie falls back till he’s sitting and they’re both almost underwater, so Buck pulls him back up again and Eddie chases the kiss, and they’re both laughing into it now, puffs of air passed back and forth between them.
“This is-“ Buck speaks the words mostly into Eddie’s mouth, shaking a little from the giggling and the cold and the everything else. “I can come to your tent?”
“Yeah, Buck.”
“And this is- it’s vacation ocean?”
Eddie pulls back, just a tiny bit, and puts his hand on Buck’s face, fingers already a little pruny. “It’s the same ocean as always, Buck.”
“I can… come home, after?”
“You can come home forever,” Eddie says, and kisses him again. It’s not a very successful kiss, what with Buck nodding into it and Eddie smiling too much to work his mouth at all, but Buck is putting it in the top five kisses of his life anyway. “Come on, let's go get dry.” Eddie stands up out of the water, and then pulls Buck to shore.
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eoieopda · 1 year
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darksided! masterlist (myg)
⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.
main series — chronological order ✨ jade’s recommendation: darksided, blindsided, foresight, hindsight
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foresight (myg x reader) // flashback prequel one-shot (f, s — 18+) // it all started with a bad joke and a bottle of tanqueray.
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interlude: sunrise // drabble (f) // two years after your first night with min yoongi, you wake up next to him in a parisian hotel.
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darksided (myg x reader) // one-shot (s — 18+) // min yoongi adored you. he'd simply never hurt you - unless you asked.
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blindsided (myg x reader) // one-shot (s — 18+) // after years of dating, you thought you had min yoongi all figured out - you didn't. and when he flipped the script on you, you never saw it coming.
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interlude: sundown (myg x reader) // drabble (s — 18+) // as it turns out, your boyfriend can take as much as he gives.
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hindsight (myg x reader) // finale one-shot (f, a, s — 18+) // tbd.
hidden tracks — future drabbles (post-blindsided)
the one where yoongi takes care of you (f) // problem (🎃, f) // dadchwita vol. i (f) // dadchwita vol. ii (f) // “what sarah said” (a❗️)
soundtracks — spotify playlists
foresight // darksided // blindsided
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huenation · 11 months
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seasons / kkh
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word count: 1,696
genre: fluff and slight! angst
synopsis: making back the time with bf!hyuka now that he’s back from tour ★ request
note: i wanna give the largest fattest kith to the anon who requested this :’(
soundtrack: seasons by wave to earth
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Kai is easily sunshine — in every single aspect. He warms you up, never fails to make you feel better even by text alone, and excluding the existence of gravity, he reels you in in orbit.
It’s the same reason that why now that he’s finally here with you after only four but very long months, it feels like you’re experiencing the first day without rain.
A gentle squeeze to your hand has you returning to Earth, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. Kai swings your intertwined hand back and forth as he continues telling you about one night after a certain stop during their tour. It’s so funny that he can’t seem to get through it, stopping to laugh and apologize for laughing, bringing your squeezed fingers to use them to move his bangs. He could have easily used his other hand, but he’s too busy rubbing circles mindlessly into your tummy. You can’t help yourself either. His smile and laughter is so contagious; it feels like you haven’t laughed or smiled this much since the last time he was here physically.
The soft bump in his nose is so beautiful, the sweet eye crinkles that reflect the sweetness that blossoms from his beam, that beauty mark on the right side of his warm neck, his light, clean, citrus scent mixed with his freshly washed clothes — it’s all here right in front of you. After so long. It seems silly in hindsight considering you’ve endured longer without being able to see each other. As years go by, you both have learned it gets harder saying goodbye every time.
Your boyfriend and the boys landed right before noon, and you’d waited for their arrival at their dorm, feeling like an obnoxious puppy with the way you anxiously paced for him. It was pure joy and love at first turn of the door knob. Kai had practically lifted you in his arms with all the endorphin driven adrenaline and momentum at his overwhelming happiness of being reunited with you. The boys simply chuckled and watched in amusement before FOMO hit. Such a reunion should have wrought tears and half-humiliated kisses, but instead, you two were grinning ear to ear, holding hands, being quietly lovey dovey.
Evening has taken over of the day you’d been waiting for for so long, and now, in the dorms, it’s just you and him. The boys had said they were heading over to play basketball, Yeonjun throwing you a wink, to which you both had whined in unison, making synchronized laughter of different accents and textures ring through the air.
There is no space between you, such a word doesn’t exist in this here. Why should it? You’d missed an entire season with him, and time persevered nonetheless. Impossibly, you wanted to make back all the time you’d missed with each other. He felt the ache of lost time, felt the ache of missing you, and even if more time like this was to be lost again, here and now outweighed everything else. Now with the way your legs are crossed into each other, your hand that’s molded with his, his hand on your tummy, your hand on his chest, playing with the string of his sweatshirt, on the living room sofa like it’s your own little world. It feels like it. It always does when it comes to him.
Now, that reality has settled, the dust of his arrival no longer flurries in the air, you feel like such a thing, such a moment as precious as here and now, can’t be. Not when you had shared some broken phone calls, yearning through the digital medium, showing half your faces through FaceTime, not when you’d worked your ass off everyday in hopes of making time go by faster with it being occupied, not when you’d prayed for his things to go smoothly throughout the tour and especially for him to comeback soon, even if it meant time were to skip and the universe would be tipped on its side. You were willing for anything if it guaranteed your Hyuka would be back.
And here he is. Laughing so big and contagious, the frequencies of it bring you effervescent warmth, his wide but love shaped body pressing into yours to ignite it even further. Even if the story reads Typical Tubatu, you’re smiling so big and laughing too, even if you get only part of the story because of his interrupting giggles. Maybe such untapped expressions explain why stray tears from what you thought were laughing too hard snowball into endless streams and a smile that turns into a frown.
“And Beomgyu hyung just kept going! Soobin hyung wasn’t having it, but it was still! — s-so — oh… Y/N?” A hiccup of a sob escapes your curled lips when he stops, leaning in and his own eyes glazing over at acknowledgement of your emotion. He’s still smiling, it’s softer now, the sunlight in his eyes still bright but again, softer now with brief overcast of his sensitivity towards your tears. His hand drops from your tummy and comes to catch the tears that keep flowing.
“‘M-I’m sorry!” You laugh, sniffling, or sniffle, laughing, really, you’re a mess of it all. Kai coos, shaking his head, so delicate in the way he holds your face, other hand still squeezing yours. You use your sleeve to rub at the rest of your face. He keeps shaking his head to your apologies, closing in to pepper kisses on your cheeks when you don’t let up, when you keep crying.
“Y/N,” he asks with a tone that suggest he’s pleading but for what, you don’t know. Your lips shake. Kai chuckles wetly, your heart squeezing at the thought of him even crying over this sudden slip up of emotion of yours. “I’m sorry,” you say not for the last time, he sighs against your salty lips. He places his forehead against yours, slotting his body closer against yours.
“I just — Kai, I missed you so much. I-I’m so happy, I can’t — I can’t help it! I missed you so much it hurts and I-I can’t…I’m so lucky you’re here. It’s too good to be real!” You cry brokenly, trailing off to giggle at yourself for being so taken, and Kai mirrors your expression entirely, nose reddening, sniffling, and giggling, too. He kisses your the column of your nose, nosing your own once he pecks your mouth a bit clumsily. He does so with purpose, it looks like.
“I’m sorry that I had to leave, I really am, but I swear, I’m here now. And I too am so, so, stupidly happy to be here with you,” Kai steals a few but meaningful kisses from you, keen on trailing the side of your face with his hand, as if to commit it to memory, to mind, to muscle, to heart. He steals your breaths from you, recycling them, when oxygen returns to your lungs slowly but surely — a sheepish laugh leaving your mouth against his because of it all. Kai brings your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles, the backside of your palm, your phalanges, and your thumb.
“I missed you so much, my sweet. Feels like one of the many, many dreams I’d have all those lonely nights without you while I was abroad. All throughout the day, I’d think, ‘the alarm should go off any minute now…’ and it never does. I hope it never does. I wanna stay here forever with you.” You’re going to cry again, moving in to kiss him, and he meets you halfway. Lips against the other, your smiles all but mold together. “I love you, Y/N.” He whispers and you hear it twice: through your ears and the burning skin of your lips.
“I love you more.” You say, and his laugh comes out muffled.
It’s a long moment of closeness being fulfilled, soft kisses filling the air every now and then, before you pull away, cheeks red and tear streaked. You lean away, as he lays his head against the top of the sofa, your fingers brushing some of his trimmed fringe back. He cut his hair. He’s so handsome, it somehow makes him look all the more charming and adorable.
“I interrupted your story, Kai. Please continue for me, if you can. I want to hear every single thing you have to say.” Your fingers brush the warmth of his flesh, and he flutters his eyes shut almost in reverence. He nods, opening them, and pecking at your pulse point. Such an easygoing smile graces his lips, so gentle and serene, and yet the repercussions are enormous. Your heart falls back into place. Everything does. Now, that your Kai is back.
“If you say so.” He laughs and sighs after a brief pause, eyes meeting yours. “Thank you for waiting for me.”
You gasp, mouth forming a pout at that.
“Come on, Hyuka. You know me!” Your tone eases up especially when you reposition yourself on him, closer in on him, both of your hands flattening across the width of his chest to lean on him, legs curled with his, your face nuzzling against his shoulder. “I’d wait a thousand years and more just for you.” You whisper, cheeks hot at the shyness of your confession.
Practically swooning and sweating with how speechless you left him, Kai just sputters out an awkward, little, “thank you” before practically deflating and silently whining when you start laughing at him, quickly turning such a heartfelt moment back to the lighthearted scene that the boys had left, who now return to tease at the lovey dovey-ness. You peel off of Kai, back to hand holding, back to listening to his story telling — aided by the others who make it all the more funnier and real — and let the feeling home overtake you, stealing one last glance at your boyfriend, your eyes and his melting and closing like honey.
Kai may be your sunshine, but unbeknownst to you, you’re his entire life, you’re his seasons, and he’d trade everything for you within a heartbeat.
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stonecoldsilly · 2 years
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random episode 6 thoughts:
i thought brennan would absolutely burn another token to get a higher investigate on the court of wonder trash a seven baby pls I need to know too
whoever is doing aabria's hair and makeup deserves a) a raise and b) their budget doubled this instant
where. is. the. soundtrack. playlist.
a thousand curses on brennan's acting teachers why did his eyes get so wet in the 'only root not feed you' moment i took 25 psychic damage through the tv screen
this should be longer it should be a full 18 part season oh my god did they know it was gonna be this good when they decided to only give us ten???
the green hunter is one hundred per cent the ‘lady chatterley’s lover’ of the fey realm
salt boys living only six hours breaks my heart
andhera my slippy little fella why are they the most boy in all the world
i got so confused because I misremembered the fog/counterspell moment and thought gwyn had already had their big reveal as binx so fully half the shenanigans only made sense to me in hindsight I am dumb and hob is wordy
much like lord airavis I too had no idea who hob was talking about??? i was like my boys gonna fight rue??? whomst are we duelling???
i need to hear more about esme and the BABY
who the fuck is wrackingspelt. seriously. who.
squak being a sloppy little whippet thin manwhore is just fantastic he’s malevolent he’s rakish he’s a tart and he’s good at it god sorry I can’t be him
i love how the timeline is so non-chronological as we dart back from epistolary to scenes scattered around it feels authentic to the non-linear fey time
epistolary and rumour phase my beloved welcome back
hootgrowl hootgrowl HOOTGROWL what a love story what a romance why am I the viewer pining
‘ooh a bee’s in my skirts and I like it’
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atamascolily · 6 months
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One thing that I love about Rebellion as a movie is that its plot is a direct result of two decisions made by the characters in the original series:
1) Homura's decision to tell Kyubey about the possibility of witches -- something which made me beat my fists and shout "NO, YOU FOOL, DON'T DO IT!" on my first viewing -- results in him kidnapping and experimenting on her in order to turn her into a witch. Oops? 2) Madoka's decision to give her hair ribbons to Homura, thus ensuring Homura retained her memories of her (the soundtrack for this scene is titled "ribbons of memory" to further emphasize the point), which results in Homura ripping Madoka from the Law of Cycles and becoming the Devil. Also oops but it's complicated.
Thus, I think the seeds for Walpurgis no Kaiten were already sown in Rebellion: Homura's decision to become the Devil will have unintended consequences that will drive the plot going forward. Based on what we know so far, those consequences likely include
1) the appearance of a second, duplicate/doppelganger Homura (the one with the insouciant smirk and the black and white striped headband). 2) the return(?)/creation of Walpurgisnacht - her name is in the title, after all.
If I had to pick a scene from Rebellion that I think will Hit Differently in Hindsight, it would be this conversation between Homura and Sayaka:
Sayaka: Do you intend to destroy the universe? Homura: *hairflip* After all the wraiths have been destroyed, perhaps I will. When that time comes, I suppose I can be your enemy. But do you think you'll be able to stand against me?
Can we unpack this for a moment? Homura's remark about destroying the wraiths (and the universe) is so jarring to me--is she serious about this? Why would she do this? The wraiths are what happens when you don't have witches--once they're gone, what will arise to take their place? Does Homura have a substitute in mind (the Incubators?) or a vision of what this world might look like? Is she really going to remake the world again to match those visions?
(ngl, having magical girls target an endless stream of Incubators would be very satisfying on an emotional level, but somehow I don't think this is where this is going)
Or is Homura just messing with Sayaka here? Is she reminding her here that wraiths, not the Devil, are the true enemies of magical girls, and that's what Sayaka should be focusing on instead? Is she saying, "Yeah, ring me up and fight me when the wraiths are gone" because she knows it's fundamentally impossible, that there will never, ever be an end to the wraiths as long as the status quo continues?
But look at what she says again:
When that time comes, I suppose I can be your enemy. But do you think you'll be able to stand against me?
Be careful what you wish for, Homura. You might will get it. Especially if you've become a being whose words and emotions shape reality... and might have other effects you're not aware of.
It's funny because up until now the obvious interpretation was that the next film was going to be Homura vs. everybody else... and while that still might technically be true, it's probably not going to be the "Homura" we were originally envisioning.
I think Homura's question has more teeth than she realizes, and will come back to bite her before the end. Can she stand against an enemy with her name and her face and her powers? Can she stand against herself?
On a thematic level, I think it's inevitable that Homura will (directly or indirectly) create her own enemies in an ironically self-fulfilling prophecy. And the wording in her speech suggests that this will happen in conjunction with something going haywire with the wraiths, i.e., the current system starting to break down, which in turn implies the likely return of witches (or something to replace them). What she promises Sayaka here will likely come to pass--just not in a way Homura ever wanted or expected (or can control).
This scene ends with another choice that I think will be important in Walpurgis no Kaiten: Homura erasing Sayaka's memories while Nagisa laughes and dances joyfully (spinning in circles!!) in the background. The context implies that Nagisa retains her memories of all that has happened, but unlike Sayaka, she has no interest in antagonizing Homura, and is perfectly happy with her new situation. For all that Homura wages an all-out brawl with Mami over custody of Bebe, Homura barely interacts with Bebe, let along Nagisa--she certainly doesn't have the same antagonism/history with her as she does with Sayaka, and thus no reason to go after her.
I think it would be fitting if Nagisa's knowledge proved pivotal in the end, and if she's forced to choose between living the kind of life that her existence in the Law of Cycles denied her and her loyalty to Mami. It would also be an ironic echo of Nagisa's role in Rebellion, where she is the one to tell Mami the truth of what's going on in Homura's labyrinth, which causes their previously idyllic life together to come to an end.
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Note
Hi Sarah! I'm interested to know of the folkmore songs, which if any you think are actually fully created characters and stories? It seems the fandom runs the gamut from "Yes, some are completely fiction" to "Literally every one is actually about her life" and everything in between. I personally lean towards believing that many are total fiction like she said, but that in hindsight you can see why she was maybe drawn towards certain story arcs for some, but not all, of them.
Hi! I think there are songs that lean quite clearly autobiographical ("my tears ricochet", "invisible string", "peace", "marjorie", "long story short" just being a handful) and then there are songs where I feel she's filtered her personal emotions or things that she can relate to or has experienced through a character lens.
"august" is a great example of that because the teenage love triangle is definitely based on fictional characters - but I'm confident Taylor can emotionally relate to the August (character) who sincerely fell in love with someone and thought they cared for her only to discover that maybe their relationship didn't mean as much to them as they did to her. Like that is essentially RED in a nutshell down to asking the other person if they in fact really remember what happened between them and if they're remembering two different relationships.
I think what makes folkmore perhaps more challenging for people to understand is it's not either/or it's "Yes, but also ..." and that's hard to wrap ones head around when we're so used to having Just One Answer when the reality is there are many.
I also think as an inherently emotional storyteller, every song of Taylor's is going to have some ~essence~ of a feeling she can relate to or understand (like how even her film soundtrack contributions still sound like a feeling or an emotion she can grasp, despite it being written from the POV of a fictional character). She's said herself she uses songwriting as a way of processing her feelings. In an instance where she may not even fully be aware that that's the emotion she's feeling - writing it out is her way of closing the gap between "This is an interesting concept to me" and the mic drop realization of "Oh. There's a reason why that concept was so interesting to me, my heart just hadn't caught up to my songwriter brain yet."
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vuelie-frost · 6 months
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hello again!
It's been awhile!
There's a TikTok trend right now of "Show Yourself" in different languages, and it brought me right back to the discourse about this movie. Frozen is always in the back of my mind, but I haven't listened to the soundtrack or thought deeply about it in awhile.
So on the way to work today I listened to Show Yourself in full and, predictably, got teary.
I think the beauty of this movie that can only be seen in hindsight is that the theme (per one of the producers, maybe Jen herself) is love in the midst of change. It's been four (!!!) years since Frozen II and we've had that time to sit with the motifs and themes. WE change too.
I relate to Frozen II differently now; maybe even more. When it came out, I was a fan but it didn't hold a candle to the original (to be sure, the original is still my favorite movie.) But at this place in my life- turning 30, auditing my career and relationships, fearing the future, barreling into it anyway- Show Yourself and Into The Unknown become a deeper testimony of risk and payoff.
Admittedly even when the sequel was announced, I didn't like that the point of the sequel was finding out Elsa's "purpose." Because I reject the idea that diversity or difference needs a deeper meaning; sometimes things just are, and they don't need answers. Trying to explain everything can cheapen the impact, especially when magic is involved.
But!
While Elsa was given answers and we might not (or there might be no answers to receive,) that doesn't mean our existence is without meaning. You don't have to be religious to believe that the organic production of the universe led to YOU. And you matter. Neil DeGrasse Tyson once said that it's a miracle any of us exist. So many things can go wrong. But we're here and we matter. You are the one you've been waiting for.
Anyway, I'm sure I'm talking to a nonexistent audience and these are lukewarm takes at best, but I have more peace with Frozen II now that time has passed. I remember the hubbub about Elsa living in the forest and now it just... doesn't seem like a big deal. Of course people can live apart and still love each other. Maybe we spent so much time focusing on that plot point that we missed the bigger picture of love in the midst of change and how we're all enough as we are.
And Elsa remains the queen of my heart 👑
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The heavenly yard blog infomine, part 6: More Songs, and the Daughter of Evil Musical (no, not that one)
Some more interesting stuff in this one--starting to get closer to mothy conceptualizing Evillious as we know it, though of course we're not quiiiite there yet.
2 October 2009 ~ 25 February 2010
---October 2009---
2nd
-mothy releases Heartbeat Clocktower and To You of Few Words on Piapro.
-He releases a few more Evils Theater CDs by popular demand.
11th
-More Daughter of Evil on MikuMoba
19th
-Daughter of Evil is getting a chibi figurine!
-mothy shares some clips of two new songs he's working on. The links are defunct so I'm not sure which ones they are.
---November 2009---
8th
-mothy has been working on quite a bit, but a lot of it involves things he's keeping under wraps for the time being, so he hasn't had much to blog about. he's working on another song in addition to the previous two he shared clips of, and considering soliciting illustrations for it on Piapro (I think based on that, and the timing, that this one is Tailor of Enbizaka).
-Someone mentions an unofficial performance of his work in the comments section. He thanks them for the notice and lets them know they're more than welcome to do so, but has to keep the actual announcements on his blog limited to works he's officially affiliated with considering the sheer scope of derivative works being made at the time.
11th
-I was correct, the song he's soliciting illustrations for is Tailor of Enbizaka.
-The recruitment system has apparently changed since he last used it, so he's not sure if he'll get the same turnout as before.
19th
-mothy announces an upcoming play adaptation of Daughter of Evil, ~Gemini of Charm~ (Charming Gemini? Not sure I like this translation in hindsight).
-This is notably not the first of its kind, but it is the first one that he's involved with in some capacity. He hints at the play revealing content that wasn't in the songs.
-Note, the link to the website still works.
-There's a comment that asks if he's ever going to make songs with UTAU. He says that while he is interested, he doesn't have the time to learn how.
28th
-Daughter of Evil has 1 million views!
-In other news, there are plans to release a DVD version of the upcoming DoE musical.
-Meanwhile voting for Conchita, moonlit bear, Re_birthday, and Screws,Gears, etc is going to start up for entering them into JOYSOUND in December.
---December 2009---
4th
-Daughter and Servant of Evil are both going to be on the VocaloLegend CD.
-mothy has finished recruiting illustrations for Tailor, and is working on putting the video together.
8th
-mothy has uploaded Tailor!
16th
-Tailor has reached 2nd in the weekly rankings! And Clockwork Lullaby has reached 100,000 replays.
-mothy hopes to upload some more videos this month.
-in responding to a comment, mothy reveals he has difficulty participating in winter comiket because it conflicts with his day job.
25th
-Tailor has reached 100,000 views!
-mothy announces the tie-in soundtrack album he's put together for Gemini of Charm/the musical
27th
-In celebration of the Kagamine Twins' anniversary, mothy uploads the Velvet Mix versions of both Daughter and Servant of Evil to NicoNico (with illustrations from Piapro)
-mothy expresses plans to release a mini-album at VOCALOID Master 11.
29th
-mothy announces Regret Message is going to be in the Stardom3 album.
---January 2010---
1st
-mothy does a little retrospective on the songs that he released in 2009 in honor of the new year. I won't summarize all of it but some highlights:
-he had a lot of fun making Conchita, he didn't struggle with writing it like he does some of the other songs.
-he hadn't actually intended moonlit bear to be so dark.
-Heartbeat Clocktower is still just on piapro for now.
-his setting and concepts for Screws, Gears, and Pride is actually quite detailed, but he doesn't know if he'll ever get the opportunity to share any of it.
-he says he wrote "to you of few words" to himself, in a way, that he has to write songs like this every once in a while.
-he thinks he may have gone a little overboard on Tailor.
-Confirms again that Rin and Len are his favorite VOCALOIDS.
5th
-Re_birthday and Conchita have made it onto JOYSOUND. Voting is still ongoing for the others.
6th
-mothy uploads Daughter of White.
9th
-mothy thanks people for the comments on Daughter of White, noting he had to cut a very large amount of content for it even with how long the end result was.
-He also shares a few videos made by the illustrators that he was working with (Ichika and "The one who loves the Oni", You-ring and "Pretty Panties ☆ AkuMaRin", Suzunosuke and "Synchronicity", and Painter-Brioche with "Lonely Runner"
16th
-Daughter of White has topped the VOCALOID rankings.
-Meanwhile, mothy talks plans for VOCALOID Master 11, where he intends to release the Prelude to Forest album. He also talks about the big collab CDs that he's involved in (VOCALOlegend, Stardom, Supernova, etc).
-The musical date is also fast approaching. Mothy says that while the setting, character names, and general plot ideas come from him, the script itself was largely written by the theater company.
23rd
-Mothy reports back from the stage rehearsal of the DoE musical. He thinks they did a good job incorporating his ideas with their own original material. Asami Shimoda attended to (apparently she got a RinLen plushy(ies?) from Crypton.
-He advertises "elements", which is a--I think CD? Performance? of some kind that Shimoda was doing. The website's defunct now.
---February 2010---
2nd
-The DoE musical has premiered, mothy shares his thoughts.
-He liked it, thought it was written and performed well. It sounds like Josephine had an active role (like she does in the newer musical). As an audience member it was apparently very entertaining.
-As the author of the original work, he thought it was good as a stage play. There were a lot of deviations from his own story ideas (apparently the scriptwriter did this on purpose to make it stand on its own rather than trying to compete with mothy). mothy's thinking is that the adaptation should try to recreate the tone of the original, but keep in mind that stage performance and songs are two different styles of work, so it's understandable to pursue what works for stage itself. And that the differences where Daughter of White are concerned are only natural since that's a newer release that didn't exist when this was being written. They only had a basic summary of Clarith's character at the time (note--mothy shares the specific description he gave them, and it does mention her and Michaela by name).
-He makes clear that not all of the elements that show up in the musical but not the songs are original--that is, he gave them some story elements to use that weren't in the songs. He lists off the names of Riliane, Allen, Germaine, Kyle, Michaela, Elluka, Clarith, Chartette, and Ney as names that come from him specifically. And then the Three Heroes and whatnot. Though the characters who aren't in the songs are very different in the musical, like Chartette for example.
4th
Part 1
-(as a note, as mothy discusses the musical, he is also sharing pictures of himself with the cast of the musical, covering his face up with a logo of course)
-Continuing on the topic of the musical, there is a ton of plot mothy's come up with that hasn't made it into the "Akuno" songs. Some of these are spoilers. Mothy compiled all of these ideas during the collaboration, and now he's wondering what to do with them. He wants to share them in some fashion. He could make them into songs but that might take a while, and he wants to do more than just the "Akuno" series. This is something he hopes to work on this year.
Part 2
-Mothy announces that the musical's soundtrack CD has been released for purchase. Asami Shimoda has some vocals on it.
Part 3
-Mothy talks about Twiright Prank, which is the new song in the musical that he specifically wrote for it. He was nervous working on it because he's never written a song to someone else's specifications before, but it turned out okay. He explains the plot a little, and his plans to make a RinLen version (of course he demo-ed with RinLen but he didn't tune it or anything)
-He also missed the "Akuno" series showing up on CountdownTV (idk what that means)
Part 4
-Mothy is attending VOCALOID MASTER 11 on Sunday. It's his first time going alone, under the Heavenly Yard label. He will, as stated before, be selling the new album Prelude to Forest, as well as other stuff.
8th
-VOCALOID MASTER went well, as expected. Mothy sold out, but he'll be selling some things on consignment in the usual places. He'll also be selling at VOCALOID PARADISE 3 in March.
25th
-mothy announces he'll be releasing Full Moon Laboratory in March for the Supernova2 CD.
-Some comment replies--he gives permission to do derivative and parody works on NicoNico. He can't sell his works on Amazon because they're self-published. And so on.
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