#‘singing is not something we do. we cannot carry a tune’

[moonriseoverkyoto]

Whistle while you work

Synopsis - sometimes all a little lass needs is to just holler the lyrics of an angry female-empowering country music, but a certain beloved Scot just can’t help but be worried he screwed up

cw: swearing, medical and military workplace inaccuracies, playful language, suggestive content, heavy flirting, slight miscommunication trope(this hurts me more than this hurts you believe me), nicknames, use of Scottish and southern(Georgia/texas) accent that some readers may find corny or displeasurable

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x southern!medic!reader

Author’s note: I know I said I was busy but I heard “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood come on the radio and it’s been an ear worm that sticking to my brain like flies on a horse. But once again I’m here to remind you that I’m taking southern notes from Georgia and Texas because I was raised in one and I visit family quite often in the other. I am completely open to constructive criticism but if you have nothing nice to say then you just scroll past it costs you absolutely nothing to mind your business. Italicized is singing btw.

©️moonriseoverkyoto 2023. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

Soap had begun to have a routine with you. He could often come visit you after shift hours or you would come along on missions and be his first pit stop at base. It was a beautiful little arrangement that the F1F begun to adore. You were the warm fire to warm their cold hearts or the blazing hearth to whip them into shape if they got rowdy. So it was a little jarring to him when he strolled into your clinic and heard an angry drawl.

“Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp. And she’s probably gettin’ frisky.”

Your voice had him weak at the knees but there was something off in your pitch. A grit, an anger, a frustration. He suddenly began retracing his steps, trying to find a failure placed upon his behalf.

“Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink 'Cause she can't shoot whiskey.”

“Bonnie?” the man called out to you, his reaction was controlled but his heart thumped against his chest trying to break out. When you didn’t respond he decided to stay by the doors out of your vision to figure out what was the issue, studying you.

“Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick. Showin' her how to shoot a combo. And he don't know”

Your hips began to sway against the rising tune and even in your scrubs, there was a clear muscle memory when it came to the rhythm of the song. Soap quickly exited and left to go to the common room to find the rest of the F1F playing poker

“There’s loverboy, we were wondering how long it would take for you and-“

“Firstly, she’s my friend Capt’n you know that. Secondly, Somethin’s a mattah with Bonnie.” Soap cut Price off quickly not caring for niceties.

“why because she’s running a little late?” Gaz spoke while checking his turn. It was comical how they knew you by your nicknames from Soap rather than your god given name.

“Aye ‘nd she’s singin’ this song of ‘ers and it’s got me all worried. I mean I know that I’ve been a wee bit busy lately but I’ve made sure to make me rounds and when I came to her place she was swinging hips and I ken to know when somethin’s a mattah with me Bonnie-“ Simon’s head turned to his friend with interest as Gaz cut the rambling man short.

“Calm down mate. We cannot understand you when you go back to the ancestral plane with that tongue of yours” Gaz spoke. Price waved him off to let the Scott breathe.

“She’s up tae high doh.” Soap rushed out, his brows knit together trying to piece together what could’ve happened.

“In English, lad” Price spoke up. However somebody came to his rescue.

“The phrase is meant to be used to describe when somebody is pent up, flustered. It’s a Scottish saying.” Ghost answered with a deep baritone. Everyone was surprised but secretly noted the phrase for whenever they had to go solo with the Mohawk man.

“So go talk to her” Price responded to Soap with a look that said he was ordering, then he offered a small gift of liquid courage

Soap refused the drink and made his way back over to the infirmary. His brain scrambling to find an answer.

“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats”

Your belted notes rung through the doors and hit his ears. He vowed he would find out the issue and fix it just so he wouldn’t have to hear the pain in your voice. He came around the corner as you stood in front of a table, organizing your different surgery and procedural tools. He spotted the AirPod beneath your trucker hat (since wearing a traditional cowboy hat was too distracting in the work place even during the quiet shifts. )

“I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Slashed a hole in all four tires-“

Soap swallowed all his worry as he grabbed an AirPod out and spoke but you beat him to the punch.

“Who in all of god givens creation just ordered a free fuckin’- Oh sweetheart Johnny it’s you.” Your fire calmed just as quick as it kindled.

“hey lassie I was getting worried about you” Soap said. His heart and maybe something else throbbed at your honey tone. One day he’d finally act upon those feelings but today he needed to worry about something else. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“Are you saying I’m throwin’ a hissy fit?”

“Noo jist haud on there Lassie. I jist was-“

“Heavens to Betsy! You do think I’m havin’ a hissy fit, why you oughta know that I was the best little-“

As you two went on back and forth, the distance between your bodies got smaller and smaller. Two wide eyed grins plastered across your face. He cut you off with a smirk

“Oh I’m sure you were the.. how do you say it again? Oh right” Johnny leaned in closer and his voice dropped, “the best little girl this side of the Mississippi. Ain’t that right, hen?”

“I know damn well you did not just call me a hen from a damn barn house-“ you went to speak again but got cut off as your throat hitched, soap’s mouth just by your ear and his tone got unrealistically deeper and more dominant. A careful hand grazing your hip.

“Shut yer pus for a moment, hen. Tell me what’s a matter. What’s got you so up tae high doh.” The male spoke.

You were silent for once. All the cogs in your brain just stopped. Everything was quiet, if you had perfect hearing you could hear Johnny’s poor heart banging to get out of his chest in anxiety from him boldly caressing your waist.

“Aww come on lassie, need me to buy a wrench for that brain of yours”

“I misplaced my sewing needle. Well I did or one of the stupid nurses did but I can’t find it and I won’t find it till the cows come home” you huffed.

“The one from your nana?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“No need for the ‘tude. May I look?”

“Sure. It’s no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond” you said softly as he gently moved you aside to look at the table below. His trained eye spotting a glint on the ground. He reached over to pick it up and show it to you.

“Bless your heart! Good god Johnny, oh my sweet I could kiss you!” You cried out with the biggest grin. You leaned forward and kissed him softly on his cheek. His stubble gently scratching your soft, plump lips. His cheeks barely flushed as his smirk transformed into a smile and a small chuckle left his throat. He took a moment to memorize the feeling of your lips for later.

If that’s all it took to make his little Bonnie proud. He’d search every haystack for your needle in a heartbeat. You were his everything, he’d wait until the right moment to tell you. Especially when he was pretty sure the rest of the team was right around the corner listening to them. He’ll confront them later, for now he wants to stay in this moment with you. Watching his sweet hen, praising him. Grinning as she danced around with the needle he found, and even maybe hid.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Slang translations

Noo jist haud on - Now just hold on there

Heavens to Betsy - southern expression of surprise

Hen- a woman (Scottish term of endearment)

Bonnie - a beautiful woman, Scottish term of endearment typically paired with Bonnie lass

Lass/Lassie- beautiful woman, term of endearment

Shut yer pus - Scottish way of saying hush up, not literally referring to genitalia

Does a bear shit in the woods - kinda like a sarcastic response of “duh.” Whenever you’re asked a question. Hard concept to explain but I hope it’s not just me who got this from their southern mama

no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond - comparison of size

Author’s note: AAAAAAAA I DID IT. I wrote my first fic. Oh my god. I’m so tired but I hope everyone loves this as much as I did. Please go listen to the song as well. It’s “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood

General Taglist (comment to be added) : @glossythor @banana-beans-police

also thank you for the support for the series: @fruitsa1ad

Banner credit: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more 

#soap call of duty #call of duty requests #call of duty #soap mctavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #cod x southern!reader #x southern!medic!reader #john price #simon riley #gaz call of duty #country!medic!reader #john mactavish

[spoopydeboop]

Hello, and welcome to…

Pointless Palia Head-Cannons!

This is a segment where my hyper-focused and obsessive brain will shower you all with all of the pointless very important head-cannons I have about the MMO Palia and its many NPCs!

Today’s topic is:

Which Palia NPCs can sing well and which ones simply cannot carry a tune?

Now, in the words of the famous Italian plumber, “Here we go!” (List below the cut!)

NPCs are listed in alphabetical order.

• Ashura - Absolutely yes, but in a very deep, sea-shanty / Gaelic tune way. He’s not the most technically sound, but his voice is very gruff and soothing. Absolutely sang his son lullabies every night.

• Auni - No, I’m sorry. Convinced that he cannot carry a tune AT ALL but thinks he can. Sings loudly with zero inhibition whatsoever. Gotta give him credit there!

• Badruu - We know this man was in a traveling Bard group, so he’s musically inclined for sure. I feel like he would have been killer backup and filler vocals and he can harmonize beautifully.

• Caleri - Doesn’t believe in fun, jovial activities like singing. (Elouisa informs you later that her sister can in fact not carry a tune at all.)

• Chayne - Absolutely. He’s naturally musically inclined, but part of his spiritual training involved learning to lead chants and hymns. Bass level vocals, v soothing.

• Delaila - Not at all. Where do you think Auni gets it? Part of what entranced her about Badruu in the beginning was his musical abilities. She’ll still sing along with a group and put her all into it though!

• Einar - The concept of producing a vocal stimulation to create a pleasing melodic sound is lost to the robot. But if it’s your Oneness, he respects it.

• Elouisa - Cannot sing, but definitely played clarinet in high school and was first chair!

• Eshe - No way. Cruella de Vil type vibes. She definitely was classically trained on the piano, but doesn’t often exercise the skill.

• Hassain - Can absolutely carry a tune and harmonize well! Definitely low baritone or higher bass in range. Can harmonize with higher ranges very well!

• Hekla - Her Jina often sings to herself as she works, but the ability and desire to produce a series of melodies is not within her rune programming.

• Hodari - Not the biggest fan of singing, but has a decent voice that comes off pleasantly gruff and southern. I imagine if Pedro Pascal’s ‘Joel’ from The Last of Us sang a slower, more reserved tune. (My other example was the dad cow from Back at the Barnyard that sings “I Won’t Back Down”… Let me know if that woulda been better or worse.)

• Jel - Definitely took vocal lessons with his sisters. Has a very pleasant and airy singing voice that is very technically sound.

• Jina - Doesn’t really sing much except for to herself. Massive stage fright on this one! Hekla says that her Jina seems happy when she sings, and that’s what matters.

• Kenji - Honestly? 100%, yes. Maybe like a broadway or an operatic voice. Doesn’t sing much but I imagine it would sound really jolly if he was a jollier guy.

• Kenyatta - YES! Doesn’t sing because she thinks it’s ‘lame’ (she gives me massive ‘too cool for school’ vibes) but has a delightful and powerful singing voice (kinda like the wolf Porsha Crystal played by Halsey in Sing 2.)

• Nai’O - Yes absolutely. Got his talent from his dad! He’s very shy when put on the spot though, so he doesn’t sing in front of people often — mostly when he works in the field with his animals by himself.

• Najuma - Not at all! But it’s okay because Najuma has zero desire to, haha. Kid is happy to be tinkering!

• Reth - On god, YES. Man has a beautiful and casual singing voice with a little rasp around the edges. Sings to himself while he cooks or gets really focused on something. I’m thinking “Feelin’ Good” by Michael Bublé, but maybe bit more rough around the edges.

• Sifuu - Not much of a singer, but I know our Muscle Mommy definitely has a few war chants or something up her sleeve! Lady can keep a beat for sure.

• Tamala - Thinks she can, but makes it way too sultry. You heard me. There’s such a thing as too much!

• Tish - Yes! Absolutely. She seems like she would 100% have like a Mandy Moore or Kristen Bell vibe. Very Disney Princess-esque!

• Zeki - Okay, honestly I think yes — but not in a conventional way. Kind of like Ashura; I think he would be great at singing like traditional Grimalkin shanties or folk-songs. Not very practiced, but he’s got spirit!

OKAY FINALLY DONE! I plan to do a lot more of these! Let me know if you have any suggestions!

#palia theory #headcanon #palia headcanons #palia tish #palia najuma #palia hodari #palia oc #palia open beta #palia reth #play palia #palia game #palia mmo #palia jel #palia hassian #palia #palia ashura

[books-are-escapes]

real love baby - j. s.

word count: 1.1k

it's a sweet summer night. you and the dags have some time off, so natasha and you suggested a cute, little backyard barbecue. there's a playlist filling the space on the house speakers. bradley's flipping burgers because he's a natural at making them juuust the right amount of done and juicy too.

you're in the kitchen with natasha and bob, helping fix sides. you settled to work on the deviled eggs because you, too, are a natural. natasha's on potato salad and bob's cutting some fruit. mickey's just happy for some genuine fun in his life, but cannot be trusted near anything that's supposed to be edible, so he sits on a bar stool, elbows on the granite counter top, bobbing his head to the music while his girlfriend sits with him, just as content.

javy, reuben and jake are in the backyard, tossing a football around. javy's girlfriend scrolls through her phone, checking her boyfriend's butt out every so often.

you have a small window right above the sink, giving you a sweet view of jake. his sunglasses are still resting on his nose even though the sun's nearly gone, his hair is still as gelled as ever and his smile is a big contrast to his tan skin. everyone knows, except for him.

natasha places her hand on your wrist, stopping you from filling the halves with the mustard and mayo mixture. "something's gotta happen here soon, this is getting sad to watch." bob chuckled, your mouth fell open. "that made me sad!" you pouted. "only speaking facts honey.” she shrugged. “i just don’t know what to do. i want him to ask me out, but i am so frustrated that he's not picking up on a single thing i'm doing."

bob kept cutting the strawberries, "men are stupid. so are boys. but men are too. sometimes we just need a large sign that says, 'we like you dumbass.’” he smirked as you laughed.

"yeah, that might have to be it."

real love baby by father john misty comes on. the guitar cues you in, you had just finished filling the eggs. hearing this song makes you want to just float around, there's some type of magic in this tune. you give nat a knowing look and start moving.

our hearts are free, so tell me what's wrong with the feeling

you carry the egg tray outside to the table, the rhythm settling into your hips. bradley's singing into the spatula. javy and reuben have their hands in the air and their eyes are closed as they sway. natasha had pulled bob out onto the deck and made him dance with her a little. none of us were sure what was going on there, maybe nothing? maybe something?

jake locked eyes with you, smiled real big, rolled his eyes and shook his head.

mickey and his girlfriend had begun to slowly dance together as well as javy and his lady. reuben came up the steps and wrapped one arm around bradley's shoulders and the two of them sang

i want real love baby. ooh, don't leave me waiting.

you had taken your phone out to record this moment as it was something that you wanted to keep forever. you had only recorded a few seconds, being sure you spent a couple extra seconds on reuben and bradley. you watched the video and didn't notice.

jake had made his way up the steps, after realizing you didn't have a partner either. "may i?" your mouth fell open, your eyes were wide as they looked from his outstretched hand to his eyes.

"oh! um... sure!" you set your phone down and wiped your hand on your jean shorts before taking his hand. he gingerly pulled you to him. this means nothing. you thought to yourself. his large hand was pressed flat on the small of your back, keeping your body close to his while his other hand still held onto yours. nothing at all.

your hand held his shoulder as the two of you stepped back and forth to the beat. you were so flustered in this moment, you couldn't bring yourself to keep your head up. jake, being hisself says, "why don't you want to look up at me?" you let a breath pass through your nose to represent a laugh. you figured you'd take another shot. "because i might fall in love if i do." your head was still pointed down, looking at your painted toes.

there was a long pause before he says, "look at me, please." his voice almost begged, and you obliged. big mistake. you were more right than you thought you would be. the way his eyes pressed into you and the way they bore into your own. "there we go." a soft smile graced his lips.

"oh jake," you patted his shoulder a couple of times. "if only." his brows furrowed. "what do you mean?" you breathed deeply, in and out. "i mean, i like you. a lot. and i want, i've been waiting, for you to ask me on a date. and you just haven't. you've been so oblivious and i'm frustrated with you but then you flash your smile and your green eyes look me over and it all goes away and then i'm frustrated again."

jake was stunned, utterly shook. he'd never had someone be so upfront with him. "wow." was the only thing he could say.

your head dropped, "worth a last shot, i guess." you mumbled. "hey." he said, your face lifted to focus on him. his eyes locked with yours before drifting around your face. "can i take you out on a date? please?" your heart went from the lowest drop to the highest mountain. "i would really love that jake."

his hand slid the rest of the way around your body, gripping your waist, it sent light tingles through your skin. you rested your head on his shoulder, taking in this moment with him. his cologne clung to his neck. he pressed the lightest kiss to your cheek before resting his head on top of yours.

i'm a flower, you're my bee. it's much older than you and me. i'm in love, i'm alive.

unbeknownst to you, natasha had taken your phone off the table and recorded you and jake as well. after finding out, you'd watch that video just about three times a day, remembering his hand on your waist, the smell of his cologne, when he pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek, how his jaw felt against your head, how real that moment felt.

he had taken you on a few dates, the first one was just some ice cream, then the next one was a drive-in and your most recent one had been a picnic on the beach. your relationship was growing. every day with him made you feel giddy, like a child, inside. yeah, jake was a natural flirt. women would eyeball him all the time at the hard deck, but the best thing, was he only had eyes for you.

#top gun maverick #glen powell #top gun: maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman fic #hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #spotify

[ghostradiodylan]

I'm on a four hour car drive, singing at the top of my lungs (terribly, I'm so congested right now, not gonna stop me though lol), and having quarry brainrot. Who among the counselors do you think can sing well and who do you think can play an instrument?

I looove this question and I have to admit I haven’t thought about it that much so this is gonna be kind of off the cuff, instinctive stuff and I’m sure I’ll refine my opinions if others chime in (please!).

It’s kind of weird we never get any campfire singalong action in the game when there’s a guitar in Chris’s bedroom and he mentions Kumbaya, but maybe they’re tired of that from camp by the time the plot line picks up.

Miles obviously is a musician and Dylan’s the music guy so I’d imagine he’s musically inclined in some way. I’ve seen headcanons that he plays guitar and I could see that but I lean more toward thinking he would have taken piano lessons when he was younger and moved on to keyboard and adding on techie stuff like the Mellotron and Moog synth. I think he loves dials and buttons and weird sounds and he can sing but he’d rather fuck around in the noise. Any instrument he plays is gonna get a bit sad if he loses his hand but maybe he’d get more into sampling and remixing and looping computer generated beats as a result.

I think it would be funny if Jacob had a surprisingly angelic singing voice that was completely uncoached and no one ever expected out of him, sort of like Finn from Glee (RIP) but less auto-tuned. I think he’d be an acoustic guitar guy for sure just for the romance of it. Anyway, here’s “Wonderwall.”

Actual footage of Jacob serenading Emma, feat Abi.

Kaitlyn does not strike me as particularly musical though I headcanon that she and Jacob slay karaoke together. She just kind of shouts into the mic like a 90s riot grrl and sings Alanis or Joan Jett and kills.

Abi is so high school marching band nerd coded to me and I feel like she’s a total flute/piccolo girlie or else clarinet/oboe. Or maybe she plays violin in the school orchestra. Something sweet. She’s good but too nervous to perform or audition in front of people very much so it’s just a hobby she shares with people she trusts.

Emma I think would have a perfectly nice mid range singing voice that she’d wish was better. She probably started her influencer career recording Taylor Swift covers for YouTube but she’s a much better actress and dancer than she is a singer. Not quite triple threat material but she believes in herself so she’s trying.

Ryan has such a unique voice that I can’t decide if he definitely can sing or if he’s practically tone deaf. I kind of lean toward the latter. I imagine he hates his singing voice and rarely sings even for fun but if Dylan catches him singing or humming he’s like smitten times one million about it. I could see Ryan playing drums though, I’d imagine he has a good sense of rhythm.

Max, on the other hand, cannot carry a tune but sings ALL THE TIME anyway. And Laura cringes but finds it endearing all the same. He probably plays the ukulele. He just seems like the type.

Laura was a choir kid for sure and probably got solos in school plays and Max was accompanying her on ukulele and playing unnamed roles or else he was painting backdrops or something. We know Siobahn can sing and I feel like that would carry through with Laura for sure. I imagine them doing elaborate musical routines together on car rides even with their vastly different musical abilities.

Nick reminds me of a bassist I know who is maybe the weirdest human being alive. So that’s where I see him. He can sing a little but it’s definitely a backing vocals voice. I feel like he’d be in a stoner jam band just fucking around, playing the same song for an hour while both the band and audience are too high to know the difference.

Chris Hackett obviously plays guitar and Travis accompanies him on harmonica. Bobby plays blowing air over the lip of a jug and also cowbell.

I LOVE THIS ASK EVERYONE TELL ME THOUGHTS!

#the quarry #dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #kaitlyn ka #jacob custos #abi blyg #emma mountebank #max brinly #nick furcillo #laura kearney #chris hackett #travis hackett #Nick Furcillo bullying hours #Bobby Hackett #ilu torch thanks for the ask #beautiful asks from beautiful people #miles Robbins #siobhan williams

[coldflasher]

Character ask: Iris West + 12, 20, 25

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

A headcanon I am very fond of is that in addition to being a terrible gift-giver (canon) and a bad cook (also canon), Iris cannot sing at ALL. I just think it's so funny that like, Joe can sing. Barry can sing. Iris cannot carry a tune to save her life. She has none of Joe's musical talent.I have defo posted about this before but I love to imagine Barry walking in and hearing Iris singing in the kitchen or something, and it's the most awful, tuneless singing you have ever heard, so bad it could burst eardrums, and it's his favourite sound in the world. He loves it. Meanwhile, everyone else's ears are bleeding.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

So I know allegedly Barry is Iris's best friend BUT to me her best friend will always be Cisco. I absolutely adore their dynamic. I especially love the closeness they develop between s3 and s4 when Barry is missing and they are both relying on each other and joining forces to find a way to bring him back. Also one of my fave moments, I can never remember what ep or season it's on, I wanna say s2? But iirc, Tony Woodward comes back as like a zombie or something and he's after them, and Cisco leaps in front of her all dramatic like "Get behind me!!" and Iris gets so cross and shoves him behind her and goes "YOU get behind ME!" and it cracks me up every time. It just fills me with joy seeing them share a screen in general. I think it's a very layered and supportive relationship between two very kind and loving characters who also aren't afraid to give each other a good telling off when the situation calls for it. I love them, your honour

I also kinda like the idea of Iris being friends with Shawna Baez. I don't know what it is, I'm pretty sure they never interacted, but I think Iris would give her good advice and they'd have a good time hanging out

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

You know, I honestly don't have clear memories of my first impression of most of the characters! My memories of watching the first season for the first time in general are very vague. I do specifically remember not liking Len at ALL which is so funny to me now skshsggss. But I don't remember much about my first impression of Iris. I do remember that I didn't care for Westallen when I first started the show, but I'm not sure if that was anything to do with disliking Iris, or if it was just the ship as a whole (and there are still aspects of their s1 dynamic that are not my favourite, much as I adore that season).That being said by s2 I remember being so on board with her and loving her! I do think she took a little while to grow into herself as a character, whenever I do a rewatch I find it a bit jarring revisiting her, she seems so different to me, especially in the first handful of eps! But yeah on the whole I barely remember my first time watching the early seasons which is so funny to me. My ex actually made me watch it. He was like "oh you'll love it". Anyways we broke up like 8 years ago and it's still my favourite show, so he clearly wasn't wrong lmao

Thank youuuu :D

#answered #iris my beloved

[queenpiranhadon]

♕ ⎸⎸𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 ⎸⎸ ♕

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @fuzzysoulyt!! The HCH fit me and Nyota were writing is on hiatus, but we wanted to drop the prologue for your birthday :) This was written by me, along with an old oc. Looks like Luna and Lucas aren't the only children of the Nocturne family.. Here's my masterlist! Dividers by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): Child neglect, child labor (?), mean parents, idk what else

Pairing(s): None :)

With the land on one side and the sea on the other… 

Curious eyes looked around the pavilion as a sweet melody trickled out from a trio of young girls at the center of it all. Two of them carried instruments, one on the harp and the other on something that resembled a long necked banjo. But the smallest of the three captivated everyone’s attention. As the older two began to pluck at their strings, the youngest started to sing a bittersweet tune. 

I may not miss my ma, but I’ll miss you, brother. 

Everyone in the bustling area stool still, whether they were buying goods or selling them, playing with their friends or watching over the child that was, or even the stray dogs that trotted around for scraps would stop to listen. 

But I cannot live in a land I don’t call home, a home where I don’t belong. 

The little girl sang, and sang to her heart’s content, her voice smooth and alluring like a siren’s song. Slowly but surely, people started crowding the three girls, transfixed by their small harmony, nobles and peasants alike. A few even emptied their pockets to surface a few copper coins that they placed at the trio’s feet. 

So, forgive me for all the pain I’ve caused, forgive me and move on. 

By now there was a small pile of coins at their feet, copper, silver and gold alike, as the sun slowly but surely set beneath the horizon in the distance. But the crowd was simply unable to move, unable to leave this sad little song, but whether it was because of  pity, or personal attachment, no one would ever know.  

Because it’s the world out there that’s meant for me, not the life I’ve been forced to live. 

By now it was pitch black, only the stars and moon were there for light as all the lanterns had gone out due to lack of maintenance, but the moonlight still shone upon the three girls, as if it wanted to hear their song too. The banjo’s notes glided along, providing the somber tone the song implied, but the harp played a happier tune, one that complimented the melody but still showed a mood that was wild and free.  

And everyone’s accusing me of taking, but I’ve got nothing but my name to give. 

Two figures wove their way through the crowd sitting silently in that back, but just enough so that the performers could see them. But everyone around them didn’t notice, still transfixed, as the song came to its closing verses. 

My only regret is the hearts that I broke, the mistakes that I never forgave. 

The harp plucked out one last melody, as did the banjo, leaving the last time acapella. The audience went eerily silent, awaiting the last line, and finally the little girl looked at the two figures in the back, with a glint in her eye. 

But now what are you going to do, when I finally lay down in my grave. 

She finished with a cadence from the harp, before plastering a smile on her face, beaming out to the audience.  

“Thanks for meeting with us tonight! We are the Nocturne Triplets, and we hope to see you again!” 

The three bowed in sync, something that seemed unnervingly practiced to the suspicious eye, but everyone was too busy applauding them and talking amongst themselves to notice. And once they finally dispersed, the two figures approached them, throwing back their hoods to reveal the same raven hair and pastel eyes that the trio shared.  

“You three did good. Perhaps we can have a nice soup and a roast for supper today. Lucille, I expect nothing better from you, you were magnificent as usual.” The female said, acknowledging the tallest, who clutched her banjo tightly, flinching slightly at the name but sending the two a wry smile. 

“Lunarella, your harp skills are getting sloppy, so you are not allowed to leave the house until you master Sencen’s 6th Symphony by tomorrow at sundown,” the male chastised, matching the frown the middle child in question sent him. 

“And Lumira.” The woman looked at the youngest with distaste. “Keep that attitude in check.” 

And with that, the two filled their pockets with the hard earned coin the sisters had earned and began to walk away, calling for Lucille to follow, not bothering about the other two.  

Lumira was quick to follow, running up to her parents, irritated, stepping in front of them to block their path home.  

“What about us?” she asked, throwing her hands up. 

The male quirked an eyebrow. “What on earth are you talking about?”  

“Our pay! We worked hard to earn that coin; don’t we deserve our own share?” 

The two looked at each other before bursting out in laughter, a cruel sound really.  

“Oh, Lumira,” the female said with false concern. “The only thing you’re good for is your voice.” 

And with that they pushed her aside without an afterthought, leaving Lucille and Luna to comfort their sister, whose eyes bubbled with furious tears that threatened to spill out.  

The three walked home, hand in hand, after their parents, but Lumira vowed that they would get that they deserved. She didn’t know how, but her parents were rats, people who do what they want to get their hands on coin. The sisters weren’t even triplets, Lunarella and Lucille were twins, and Lumira was born two years after, but they called themselves triplets for what their parents’ called “image”. And Lumira was done with lying, she was tired of it.  

And that day was the day she promised herself no one would take advantage of her and her sisters again. 

#high class homos lucas #high class homos luna #high class homos lunarella #lunarella nocturne #luna nocturne #luna high class homos #lunarella high class homos #high class homos #lucas high class homos #lumira nocturne

[melodyofthevoid]

I have a lot of ocean idiot questions for the ask game, mostly about Heather and Willow, sorry if it's too many

For Heather: 🍧 🌋 🙉 🌪️

For Willow: family (the emoji didn't appear for me) 🤥 🕷️ 🎭 ☄️

For all of Delta's crew: 🎤

Alrighty! We've got a few here so let's crack in

Heather:

do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

Hmm, I think she has a few lockets and mementos from when she was little, but they're more for their locks, not sentimentality. She'd be pissed if they were gone, but she could buy something better.

how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

Heather's temper is pretty awful, I think that she'll quick let off some steam and yell at like. Charles. But generally she's a "going to plot your demise and the exact means of your death" sort of person. Those who repeatedly get on her bad side and stand in her way tend to be... dealt with.

what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

Worst? Probably that the new goddess of the ocean is the girl that controlled the water and knows where her shop is.

what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

Oh man, not much really? The main shift was her motivation. Before she was just a mermaid hunter (in her original incarnation) but then we wanted her to have motive and thus, her blood obsession and fear of aging/death. I think that's the thing that's changed the most, her depth.

Willow:

what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

I'll be honest here, I'm not sure. I imagine that Willow came from a decently sized family but struck out on her own and lost contact somewhere along the line. Whether or not they're still alive? Well... I'm not holding my breath.

are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

A decent enough liar, she'll lie by omission more often than not. But she'll start to trail off her sentences as she tries to think of what she can or cannot say.

what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

I think Heather in a lot of ways. Heather getting her hands on her crew, Heather getting her hands on her, etc. It's her biggest regret. On the more mundane end I think she's probably a bit spooked around cats which makes the ship's cat a bit of a sticking point.

do they act differently around certain people? what's different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?

Hmm... I think she'll play up the "drunken pirate" thing around strangers so they underestimate her

what do people assume about them? are they right?

That she's a washed up drunk that Delta keeps around out of pity. Very much not the case. Yes she is a "functioning" alcoholic but she's a trusted advisor and a keen strategist. She's been Delta's aunt essentially for years and they have a deep trust in one another.

Whole Crew

are they good at singing?

Delta: absolutely fucking not

Willow: Eh? If raspy is your thing ig

Jackie: Can carry a pretty decent tune I think

Ilia: Lovely voice, hella shy

Ryker: Yep!

Raya: Nope!

Lewis: Surprisingly deep resonant voice. Breaks it out on rare occasion

Sylvia: No one knows and no one will ever know

Argo: Good all around voice, nothing special but the most prone to breaking into a shanty

#whew #hope this answers your questions! #ocean idiots

[ur-local-demon1]

The ballad of Jane Doe

Hi everyone, it's your local demon but you can call me Sol :) Here's an analysis of (or just things I noticed) The Ballad of Jane Doe from Ride the Cyclone. Spoiler warning for the latter ahead.

Something that a lot of people have talked about already is that while this song is called a ballad, it's actually a lament (mirroring Noel's Lament which isn't a lament, but a ballad). A ballad is a song that tells a story while a Lament is to express grief, regret or mourning. The members of the choir sing about their lives and pull on the lever, revealing pictures of them alive, to show that they were once someone before the accident that brutally ended their short lives. And obviously, Penny cannot do that since she has no story to tell "And no story, what a shame." We'll circle back to that later, moving on.

In the first verse, Penny talks about how people try to console themselves in grief. "Some might say, we're released, Pushing daisies, deceased, But we all know the worms must be fed." Us humans have a natural habit of trying to make sense of things that we don't know because the unknown scares us. That includes using flowery language (literally) to talk about death. Penny is very blunt and doesn't sugarcoat things, and that doesn't change when she's talking about the gross details of death, such as rotting in a box 6 feet deep in the ground.

That carries onto the second verse "There's just one - lingering fear, Oh my soul - is it here, Or is it rotting somewhere with my head?" Here's a fun fact for those who haven't picked up on it yet, Penny's head throughout the musical isn't hers, but actually her doll's eyeless head. Someone (I can't remember who, if I do I'll tag them) pointed out that Penny's eyes may be blacked out as a reference to the saying "Eyes are the window of the soul" so I guess that answers Penny's question.

To get back at the story bit I put a pause on earlier, here's the fifth verse. "Oh no soul, and no name, was cruel existence only a sham?" I love the specific use of the word "sham" here, because Jane Doe and John Doe are called Sham names, previously only used in court. Since Penny can't remember who she was before her death, the only existence she's ever known is who she is now, nothing more than a Jane Doe, a cruel existence.

Moving on to the sixth verse, "Oh Saint Peter, let me in! You must know where I've been, Won't you tell me at last who I am?" We see some bits of Penny's backstory slip through the more she talks, just like now. The Lamb siblings used to be homeschooled, as told in the description/summary of "Legoland". Most homeschooled kids are actually religious, and are homeschooled so their parents can control their religious beliefs. On that note, Penny being homeschooled is probably the reason why no one came to identify her body, since she was wearing a high school uniform and her parents assumed it couldn't have been their daughter.

The seventh verse is a little more unclear "And from the ground, beneath my feet, I hear the anguish of the street." I think it's about her being trapped between heaven and hell, and she hears the pain of potential sinners in hell. That, or the anguish she hears come from the people she once knew but can't remember, or the families of the rest of the choir. If you've got any theories, feel free to drop them below.

The eighth verse speaks for itself, "A choir never complete" the choir isn't complete without Penny, and now that she has been revived and the rest of them stay dead, that statement carries on until the very end of the story.

Moving on to the ninth verse, "And like an old, forgotten tune, A song that no one knows, Forgot how it goes, Just John and me, Forever eternally, Jane Doe." Penny refers to herself as a song, tune, melody or anything music related, that people forget as time passes (remember that bit about time, I'll also circle back to that in the next verse.)

The iconic tenth verse "And I'm asking 'why Lord? If this is how I die Lord, why be left with no family and no friends? I've got no celebration, just this consolation. Time eats all his children in the end.'" Once again, we have religious language coming from Penny. She doesn't celebrate the state that she's in between life and death, she sees it more as a consolation. Lastly, Penny refers to herself as a song, tune or melody lost to time.

Onto the twelfth and last verse analysis "A melody, floats through the air, When silence falls, does no one care? Does anyone care?" She's referring to how when she "floated through the air" ("flied" during her death in the coaster.) and died, no one cared. Nobody came to identify her body, they couldn't find her head, and after the event died down, everyone stopped caring about that nameless girl, because no one knew who she was.

Thank you so much if you've read up until now, what other details have you noticed in the lyrics? Feel free to share them in reblogs or comments.

#ride the cyclone #penny lamb #jane doe rtc #jane doe #the ballad of jane doe #song analysis #the ballad of jane doe analysis #rtc headcanons #there are some bits of canon in there too though

[lychniis]

― IRIS AND CARNATION.

kaedehara kazuha x reader

“your friendship means so much to me.” + “fascination.” platonic + fluff

WARNING(S) : some older sibling figure reader with kazuha! reader refers to kazuha as 'child' or 'kid', reader wields a geo vision, depictions of blood and death, kazuha's friend goes by tomo.

#main masterlist | flos anthalogy masterlist

VERSE I. His name was like a whisper, a breath of fresh air, the gentle fall of rain and something you strove to protect ( and you looked into his eyes and you think you might have seen a bit of yourself in him, of someone who once stepped out of the world with the same unsurety ).

Kazuha who wanted to be everything, once upon a time, then asked to be nothing, to be the wind, to be a blank canvas he must fill with his splotches of color. He was a fascinating child when he looked your way for a spark of friendship. A child who felt the earth beneath his feet for what it was, who heard the wind’s steady whispers, who smelt the influx and the nuance that threaded together everything that was around you.

Kazuha, who was, in all right, the brother you find yourself with, who you cherished. There was a ferocity there, to wish his life be free of tumult, of the storm you knew was rising from the horizon.

The winds cannot be contained within a cage. It never could and Kazuha was just that, even with your worried fretting in the deepest of nights.

( You knew Kazuha would leave one day, to the mountains and the seas. Because he was the wind and you were steady earth. )

VERSE II. You teach Kazuha how to make whistles out of leaves and how to sing your own tunes through them, quiet dulcets from the little you had.

“You have a good ear.” you tell him one day as you fiddle with one, its green surface smooth and velvety beneath your fingers. The sun was warm on your cheeks and it brought a flush to his face and a tan on his arms. “I’m sure you’ll compose a wonderful song to go with your poetry.”

Kazuha liked poetry. He told you of the days he stayed awake reading through the old books pf his fathers library, and you envision him, a smaller him seated amidst a sea of papers. It feels strange envisioning Kazuha in a mansion, bound by four walls. It’s an alien concept, but it was endearing as well to glimpse into that starstruck youth he must have been

“Can I?” There is slow hesitance in his words. He picks the leaf apart gently with his eyes, like a puzzle, like an enigma. 

You smile.

“Play me a song, Kazuha.” you assure. 

You see his lips turn up at the corners. “And if it’s terrible?” He knows the answer, but he teases you, just a little. “Will you denounce me?” Humming gently, the wind picks up and cools the sweat on your brow. Kazuha tilts his head and listens, his eyes slipping shut. The wind slowly ceases and he opens them again.

“I’d rather you just try again.” you respond. Kazuha nods and raises the leaf to his lips.

( He accidentally blew it out of its fingers. )

VERSE III. It was the yelling that alerts you of Kazuha being in danger.

Your hands were still bloody from carrying Tomo’s corpse away ( you didn't want to think of it, seeing him lain across the floor, dead, the ghost of a smile on his face ), and was still slick with rain washed dirt from the burial. But you were on your feet and you run to the source, to the scent of autumn, to where the wind shrilly beckons.

Kazuha was wounded, his breaths were labored.

You do not waste time in cutting down the last of the Shogunate soldiers. Your sword glows a wicked red against the dim light of the moon when you step over the final body and Kazuha shakily rises to his feet. His hair is drenched from the rain.

There are more voices in the distance and the orange glow of pyro.

“You must leave.” you tone is firm, but his hand stops you from finishing his sentence. You see the fear in his eyes, the desperation.

“I…I’m sure we could both make it to the port. My friend…please…you could come with me.” It was shaking, his body his words but his face still held onto its fragile serenity. Tomo’s death was fresh on both your minds. And Kazuha was wounded and weakened. 

“Kazuha, remember what I taught you.”

He lifts his head, and his shoulders sag defeated. Even he knows his limits.

“Battle has its time and place…” he recites.

You nod, softness washing through your gaze. “I can buy you enough time. Go to Ritou, escape Inazuma, stay alive. I shall be fine.” you pat his shoulder. The voices draw closer and you know you must draw your sword again. 

“I will wait then,” he promises. 

You flash him a tired grin. “And I await your next song, Kazuha.”

He lingers for a moment and then he’s gone, a flicker of orange against inky black. The soldiers were a few feet away and you face them, your gait faltering only for a moment from your nervousness. 

Then you feel the very earth beneath you shake as the amber shine of your Vision comes alive.

VERSE IV. Half a year later, upon his return to Inazuma, and atop the high cliffs, Kazuha plays his tune again. It pierces the breeze and shifts the air. It carries over the treetops and over the rivers ( And it cries, it screams, it laughs. It was so much in one, of what he felt in the past and in the present and what he hopes to feel in the future. It was Kazuha’s song, and it held the value of his friendship ). Then he stops and waits.

Another shrill whistle responds as it morphs into a song of its own, clear as day to his ears.

Kazuha smiles. He was home.

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

requested by : @voidlesslove

a bit of change in format, i initially wanted it to have THREE verses, like a haiku but eh, we'll make do with four hehehe XD. but thank you for requesting! kazuha is my boo child and he deserves love and affection.

taglist — @x-zho, @dustofthedailylife, @deus-lapidis, @silentmoths, @nebulaera, @aestellia, @ofoceansandtombsanew, @meimeimeirin.

AINE © 2022. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

#FLOS ANTHALOGY - 100 FOLLOWER EVENT #&&. my writing !! #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Gale of song

One of the things that you loved about The Crux, was  his spaciousness. No matter ho many people were there. or the situation, tehre was always a little spot for you, to collect your thoughts. Not like there was so much time for that, you asked Beidou to let you help an board, but you loves the possibility to just sit and staring at the ocean. It was a calm night, well  all night were calm. As everyone noticed, it was clear like the sun that your presence had protected the ship and the crew in the moment you step in, and still you were the one that hold some doubts... “ Y/N....” You turned your face in the direction of the voice, smiling.  Even now, Kazuha kept calling with your name, the one that you told him when he saved you from the Millelith. He haven’t notice the proofs of your real essence at the beginning, he just decided to follow his moral code, helping an innocent against a brute force far from fair.  He sat beside you ,on a barrel, looking at you with gentleness hile you let your legs swing from your seat on the parapet. “You looked troubled....care to share what’s in your mind?” “Ha! Am i a open book or it is the wind that told you?” “Um...both.” You let a little laugh escape from your mouth, as he smiled and copied your reaction as the same time. Then, he regain some seriousness. “But, anyway, are you okay? You haven’t talk that much during dinner...” “...” Maybe you weren’t an open book like you said, but he was good in read your emotion, your state. He was in connection with all the nature, it as almost natural after all. A long sigh finally came out from your lungs, maybe you wanted to tell him about it. “Are you worried about go to Watatsumi Island? “ “...I...I just can’t get out from this state of mind. What if i’t’s like in Mondstadt? Or worse, Liyue? I haven’t even reach Inazuma and the Archon already want my head!” “Watatsumi it’s not like Inazuma. The Divine Priestess it’s not a simple woman, she’ll see the signs. And the my old friend, Gorou,  would never turn his back on me...” He pauses, still seeing the doubt in your expression. “...And Beidou will be there...eh, even that young chef we met, the one that you helped her cook,  Xiangling, she want to know more about your recipes....And i’ll be there, with you.” “I Know.” A smiled finally reappered on your face, a ray of sunshine in the night. “I know...you are always with me...you gave me courage, hope...i’m gratefull to you.” You two were the same , both of you have no home to came back, a couple of wanted criminal. But, at least, you both have eachother. He smiled again, his spirit lifted up from your words. Suddenly, you stand up, carefull to not loose balance on the parapet. The sudden stunt made him stand up suddenly, stretching his hands expecting a possible fall in the dark waters of the ocean, only to be stopped by your secured smiling face. “I still havn’t repaid you for  your Haiku!” “It was a gift!”* “Then, i have a gift for you too!” The moonlight was enough to hide the blush on your face. You loved sing, since before take the first step on Teyvat it was something that you loved to do in the real world. When your adventurous dream became a nightmare you stopped, not a single note from your throat was emitted, it was like the pain and the fear had taked away that spark. But Kazuha, he reignited that spark. So there you were, one single viewer to your first perfomance in Teyvat. La-la-la La-la-la, la-la... Gales of song, guide me through the storm His eyes sparkled. He knew you were fond of music, sometimes hearing you murmuring, humming tunes that he never heard. Still...that was a surprise. On the wings of a small, simple melody Words take flight and soar They carry me, a world we'll see Looking for a farewell, I pull the threads A life without you I cannot accept I can't tell that lie, I can't let go He couldn’t saw your blush, but one appeared on his face too. Yet, your face was in another reaction, too focused to continuing the song. But now that you're gone, I have to move on Seems like everyone just smiles staring at the sun But what about me? Tell me how I will know where I should go? Oh gales, you sing and guide me! Suddenly, a mysterious wind blow between you two. A wind that even Kazuha wasn’t able to read, a warm airflow that covored the scene. Your hair started to move, moving at the same time of the wind, were you making it? Still you didn’t notice it, maybe it was unconscious?

I walk alone, there's more to life I have to know It's just me, lost so far away from home Alone I shut my self in Still the winds howl, they call and their voices lead me Gales of song, guide me through the storm Let the melody lift me high, I'll be me Like it came, the wind left. Your watery eyes were full of emotion, your figured that started to loose that power that fro a brief moment the ronin was almost able to read. Gales of song, please stay by my side Winds of love, breathe into my life You stopped singing, out of breath for the song and the thrill. For you, it was a dream come true, singing in front of one of your beloved character, for Kazuha it was like breath after had kept the head under the water for so long. “Y/n, that song! I....you...you’re amazing...” You giggled, finally step down from your improvised stage, keeping your head in your hands. “AAAAH i’m so embarassed! I never did it like this!” He laughed a little, looking at you in that state...no matter what you were, still you hold far more humanity that the archons could ever possess. He reached for you, reached for your hand and finally admiring your face, covered in a  shade of dark red. “Thank you...i love it. I hope you can sing more in the future...” “I hope this as well!” A third voice appeared, frightening even your loyal friend. Rising your face, you both caught the one of Beidou peacefully admiring your current state from the window of his cabin. “If i had known that our grace was gifted with a voice as an nightingale, I would have made you perform from the beginning!”

#genshin impact #kadehara kazuha #kazuha #beidou #sugau #genshin sagau

[twilightmalachite]

Machina - Epilogue 2

Author: Kino Seitaro (with Akira)

Characters: Mika, Shu, Makoto, Sora

Translator: Mika Enstars

"I’ve been cheated~! It was a mistake to admire ya, Oshi-san!"

Season: Winter

Location: Machina Stage

Shu: The curtain for our stage is about to rise.

Mika: Mhm. In these moments before the performance… I’m always so tense, or rather, excited. My head is strangely clear, but my body’s achin’. ♪

Shu: That’s good tension. Keep it going for the performance.

Kagehira. The digital art you created wasn’t bad as it seemed.

For Machina, I asked you to take an active part in the stage design so as to not put your creative motivation to waste…

But I didn’t expect to end up bringing in something as old-fashioned as CRT TVs.

If these giant monitors are considered state-of-the-art technology, then this is reminiscent of scrap art. Was that contrast intentional?

Mika: Ehehe, are ya praisin’ me, Oshi-san?

I am real glad ya didn’t yell at me, though. I really like this stage turned out, y’know.

When I heard that we could use video in our production, it all jus’ clicked.

Waaay back, when I’d go to the garbage dump, at times there’d be lots of illegally dumped TVs and such like this.

It cost money to properly dispose of that sorta stuff, right? Some of them would be fully intact, to me it looked like a treasure trove.

I didn’t use ‘em ‘cuz I felt that my work in the Test World looked like worthless garbage to ya, Oshi-san.

Though a world like that might appear worthless to some people. But it was fun t’be able to relax and create a work of art while rememberin’ how I felt back then…♪

I found myself thinkin’ “Ahh, I really do admire Oshi-san” again.

Shu: Hmph. The moment I go soft on you, you get carried away… No matter the means, rubbish is still rubbish.

I allowed it this time because it happened to fit the theme, but I cannot allow you to pick things up from the dumpster.

Mika: Nnah, I-I thought we’ve been over this!

We decided in the end to not meddle with each other’s personal items! Are ya gonna insist that I’m wrong again?

Mika: I’ve been cheated~! It was a mistake to admire ya, Oshi-san!

Shu: Non! I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant for you is—

Makoto: (whispering) It’s about to begin, both of you!

Sora: (whispering) Get into position!

Shu: …Ahem. We’ll talk about this later. For now, let’s focus on the performance.

Mika: …Right. It’d be rude t’the audience if we were arguin’ on stage!

Shall we then, Oshi-san?

We’ve gotta deliver our songs to those waitin’ for our work, right?

Mika: There are those that like us, of course, but there’s also those who hold grudges and those who are skeptical of us.

Especially to those who flamed Oshi-san’s SNS and those who got caught up in the Test World fiasco, we probably don’t look good to ‘em.

Even so, if they try to listenin’ to our songs, even fer a little bit, we’ll do our best to reach their hearts with our song! ♪

“♪~♪~”

Shu: …Hehe.

You’ve improved once again, Kagehira. What a well-tuned singing voice.

You may be clumsy, but I recognize your passion for art.

The electronic world may be built of the binary variables zero and one, but only humans hold the variable of emotion. And the one who makes it shine the brightest right now is you. I hope you will continue to improve.

There is so much in this world—many different principles, ideologies, financial standings, races, and genders.

And there is no small number of those whom I find to be the most distasteful human beings. And alive.

However, art exists to provoke questions of its viewer, putting aside such notions.

Nothing in this world is convenient. It is frustrating, but it by no means is a dead end. In this labyrinth, we can still progress, even whilst asking ourselves the same questions.

Shu: Even if the created world comes to its end conveniently at the hand of a god upon a machine. Reality has us lose our way, sometimes we stray down the wrong path, but we continue on regardless.

Through this miserable reality… I hope we can walk together for a long time.

With you, an existence so different from mine.

“♪~ ♪~”

← prev | story directory | next →

#machina #event #translation #mika kagehira #shu itsuki #makoto yuuki #sora harukawa

[insurrection-if]

If we select for our MC to know multiple languages, is there any expectation that the reader knows these languages? I've seen a few IFs where multilingual MC is actually just code for toggling on text in another language, so I *have* to say no so that *I* can read it even if I feel like my MC would know that language.

No worries, that won't be the case! I know there are certain preferences held when it comes to how multilingualism should be handled in a written narrative, but I want to allow this feature to be accessible to those who roleplay a character that is not a direct self-insert of themself. Aha, not to mention that the pressure for nailing the specific grammar, dialects, slang, structure, etc. for each character's native / multiple languages (taking into account their upbringing / background with that language) would be a terrifying prospect for me!

For the most part, it will be sort of generalized. For some quick non-canon examples:

(Dutch Proficient Version)

Imka hums a song beneath her breath, her voice filling the cold air as you awaited the others. The wind seems to carry her voice and all its lightness with care as the lyrics become clearer above its whistle.

The tune is unfamiliar. Neither are the words reminiscent of any lyrics you know. But she sings with such a calm that you can sense the lyrics, the notes, are ingrained into her heart. For once, there is no fragility to her voice. Only a peace, gentle and soft.

It speaks of stars. It calls to the sea. It harkens to a longing, a wanting or something that could never be. And it is lonely in its melody.

When it ends, she sits still for a time. Her hair has been tousled by the oncoming storm, as that's what you now recognize it has slowly become, but it does not obscure the vision of her colorless eyes.

She calls to her father. She asks to be taken home.

vs.

(Non-Dutch Proficient Version)

. . . The tune is unfamiliar. Perhaps it is a folk song, some lullaby or tune from a childhood long gone. Maybe she hopes to soothe herself as her nerves arise in this endless test of patience. Better she sings than worry herself sick over what she cannot control.

Her head tilts up towards the stars. You wonder where her sight truly lies. On them. On you. On him, though you know it is only a form of self-punishment when she does that.

The end of her song arrives gradually, a wistful finish to her smooth and melancholic tune. Its final note seems to steal her breath, though it takes but a moment for her to find it again.

She speaks at the end in a near whisper. She mentions him, her father you assume. She asks for something that makes tears trace down from her vacant eyes.

Or:

(German Proficient Version) - Proud, Expressive, & Sarcastic MC

"It would be nice to be together. Here."

His tone is low, steady but quiet. It's that quiet that betrays his hesitance.

It's the subtle switch in his native tongue that tells his shyness.

To think you, little old Mockingbird, could make a man like Sigmund shy. It would be an achievement to bask in if you didn't know the true reason behind his veiled attempt at proposing a date. He thinks he's keeping you safe, but all he manages to do is slowly break your heart.

You tap a finger to your earpiece as you contemplate your response.

"Don't tempt me, sweetheart," you soon sigh, your lips pulling into a smirk when you switch back to English at the last second.

He scoffs, the sound more like a vaguely choked-on laugh, and you can definitely imagine his broad grin now: the way in draws attention to that little scar, the sudden prominence of that dimple on his cheek . . . you really do wish that you could be there with him now.

"Spottdrossel," he finally manages to call once he's relaxed that far-away smile enough, "I am not sweet."

vs.

(Non-German Proficient Version) - Proud, Expressive, & Sarcastic MC

"Herzblatt," he hums in a way that hints it comes with a smile, "You would like it here."

His attempt at teasing envy from you cannot mask the genuine thought he had of you, unprompted and welcomed by him. You smile over the little victory that truly is from a man as stubborn as him.

"Oh, new nickname! I'm honored, Siggy," you respond with a playful tune, happy to have yet another excuse to throw out his nickname once again. His dislike towards it only makes it cuter.

"You better watch out once I get my hands on an English-German dictionary. I'll be a real threat once I have something to throw back at you. Or, worse, once I can finally learn what you really keep whispering to me with that stupidly handsome smirk, you tease."

You expect his laughter: loud and barking or low and chuckled, any form of it sparking a similar urge to laugh along with him. But . . . it doesn't come.

You wince, your pride taking a stab at the realization that he isn't willing to entertain that. The truth. A truth so obvious that it hurts, more than anything he fears might come from accepting it.

And yet . . .

"Spottdrossel," he eventually calls, his tone steadying with a genuine softness that sounds strange without the image of him with it, ". . . I look forward to it."

Anywho, I hope this approach is okay with most readers! (´ﾟ 艸ﾟ)∴ Also, I am writing this really late at night / early in the morning, so please forgive any horrible mistakes in grammar, structure, etc., haha!

(；´∀｀) Thank you for the ask!

#author

[bujorulgalben]

[ what’s that sound at her door? someone is out there singing! if anica listens closely, the tune should sound a bit familiar—at the very least, it should seriously narrow down who could be out there. ]

Анико! Вийди, вийди, господарю, подивися на кошару. Там овечки покотились, а ягнички народились!

[ and there’s danylo, outside and standing there all bundled up with a big grin on his face! he’s carrying a box in his hands, and it looks heavy! the wrapping job is… it did happen, for sure! but the colors are right: blue, yellow, and red! inside the box there’s a healthy selection of preserves—look, he’s even tried to color match them to the box—in a very particular order, there’s blueberry jam, honey, and pickled tomatoes. danylo looks rather proud of that one! there’s a tin of pampushki off to the side—the filling is purple, signaling that these are plum flavored, and a hefty container of borscht, still warm! there’s also his signature slab of salo, because who would danylo be if he didn’t throw that in? and, of course, a bottle of medukha from lviv, nice and golden. laid over his arm is a white linen towel, finely embroidered with flowers of all colors in a neat pattern. ]

З Різдвом Христовим! Hope my dropping by’s not too much of a problem right now, huh? I figured that I’ve got some time, so I’d take a second to hand this off to you in person! Do you, uh—do you like singing, Aniko…?

@heroyam

[ /it takes anica setting down her mug, on the dark staining of the end table in the cosiest corner of her library, to concentrate on the singing. the language wasn't one she knew, no, but she knew how songful it was - and that was before the melody! she knew that, at least, and that calling of her name was one that had her hauling herself out of her seat! the thick blanket set over her lap drops to the floor in a disorderly pile, as she cranes an arm out into the archway, into the kitchen just behind her, for her hand to fumble on a countertop. that same blanket almost trips her in her strides to the front door.

carollers passing by, in the frigid stillness of that morning, had provided the most pleasant backing track to this rare moment of quiet in december, but this song in particular pulls her out of her sleepy state.

setting something down with a delighted squeal, anica needs to clap her hands and bounce in place on the doormat, to stop swinging her arms into embracing danylo and taking out the box, upon throwing the door open to find him. ]

Ah, Dănuț drag! Sfintele Sărbători de Crăciun să vă aducă sănătate! Look at you, you sweet boy! The picture of health, yes? [ /she cannot stop the cooing and the pinching of his cheeks. ] Yes, yes, you look marvellous- ah! And what is this! You did not need to make such an effort for silly old me, but goodness! Thank you! Thank you so... oh, oh you blessed soul, is that the sweet smell of salo you have blessed me with? God be with you for your bountiful generosity, my dear. Here, let me- ah! La naiba, you are spoiling me! [ /taking the box out of danylo's hands, she is pulled with a start by the sudden relinquishing of weight! anica catches it, nonetheless, and sets it by the door into the living room. ] I have sent the boys out for brandy and butter, so I will have some time to get the first pick of the goodies.

O-oh, and please! I have to reward your carols with a little something. I shall not hear anything otherwise, young man! So do not even try protesting - if we can spare seeds for the birds and their song, I can certainly spare this for such sweet colinde. Here: [ /a quick fumble by the side of that heavy front door, and she pulls out a small, brown paper gift-bag of colaci and cozonac; all cut into bite-size pieces and assembled in little alternating rings around an unmarked jar of cherry compote. it is a standard traditional offering to her favourite carol singers! ]

Hah! 'Do you like singing', he thinks to ask! Well I... I suppose I do, yes. There will come a day when I will get to serenade you all with a fine concert aria! Perhaps you will let me audition to sing at that upcoming wedding of yours, eh? Ehh? [ /there is a playful wink and nudge to his shoulder, before she chuckles, shaking her head. ] I only jest! Please, lamb, do not let me keep you. And thank you ever so much for the gifts. Thank you! You are too kind!

#danylo coming through as the princess diana of the east slavs!!! sweet boy!! #THE SWEETEST BOY EVEN 😭😭😭 #scored maximum good neighbour points 😎👍 #god. god this is just so cute i too am squealing like a little girl at the doorstep #anyway time is a lie christmas ends when we say so >:T! thank you so much for this cas!! #heroyam #ic ✧ main verse

[crowfeatherquill]

Music

This one may require a little context. In one of my since-finished campaigns, I played a bard, and in one of our more intense near-endgame battles, he ended up leaving his viol (the one he'd been using for the entire campaign up to that point) behind on the field because he'd dropped it and then we had to leave in a hurry. It did end up getting recovered! But this was something I wrote from the POV of the viol between games when I wasn't totally sure what was going to become of it.

--

I make music. That is all I know. My keeper’s hands are small, and his fingers are clumsy, but he is learning. His laugh is shrill and joyous, and we are learning to make music together.

-

Our Warden does not like our music. She hushes us when we shriek and sing together. My keeper has taken to hiding me when I am not in his hands. He wants to keep me safe. I think perhaps that is what means a thing is valued. I think perhaps this means I am loved. I hope my keeper knows that he is loved, too.

-

My keeper plays less as he grows. His fingers are nimble and quick, and he knows my strings better than he knows his own heart, but as he grows older, he grows...distracted. Distant. He carries me with him when he leaves home with the ones who wear dark colors and do not smile. He plucks gentle tunes in the dead of night when they cannot hear -- will not be disturbed. He plays like it is a secret. I am content to be kept.

-

My keeper fashions a harness for me the day he runs away. Slings me over his shoulder, the only possession he cares to try and keep, and disappears into the night. Walks and walks and walks until he thinks he may die if he tries to take another step. And he plays. Oh, how he plays. We make music together again in tiny smoky rooms. We play for food and a dry place to sleep. We do not shriek the way we used to when we were young, but he hums along to the tune when he can. He plays songs he loves. I can tell.

-

When we reach the place of long nights and many tents, something changes. He keeps me closer. Guards and hides. He does not play music he loves for long. He learns something -- perhaps something he should not have learned. He begins playing to please. Playing only what he thinks the others will want to hear. Maybe we rest in slightly better rooms. Maybe we eat slightly better food. But I wonder if it is worth the sacrifice. He does not smile as much in this place. I think perhaps he is hiding that, too. Keeping it safe where it cannot be taken from him. Like me.

-

On the water, my keeper finds a family. On the water, my keeper finds freedom. Finds safety. Finds love. He grows, and I witness, and -- cautiously, at first -- he begins to play for love again. Instead of playing only what he thinks will please, he plays whatever he likes and knows that it will be pleasant. He laughs. He dances. He finds people who love him. (He has always been loved. But I cannot speak. I can only make music. It is good for him to have people around him who can tell him.)

-

When we play in the square, it is like we are young again. My keeper’s hands are no longer small, and his fingers no longer clumsy, but he plays as though he has never learned that playing could be wrong. He plays simply because he loves it. And because he loves it, so do the people and the people come to listen, and they will remember. His family is near, and he is content, and I would not mind if we stayed like this forever. This is my favorite kind of music to make.

-

It is dangerous here. My keeper is always so careful when he brings me into danger. So careful not to damage. Not to lose me. But he is playing in a way he never has before. I have made music out of love; I have made music out of sorrow; I have made music from pain, and music to please, and music that was a secret. But I have never known music like this. This music does not shriek or float or dance. It howls. It howls like a wounded thing. (Maybe my keeper is the wounded thing. Maybe he is showing the outside what sounds his soul is making.) There is power in these sounds. I do not remember if I have ever felt powerful before.

-

It is darker here. The water has stilled and so has the monster. It sits and broods and licks its wounds. And I remain. Waterlogged, battered. Not forgotten, I hope, but overlooked. My keeper is gone. But that means he survives. And I do not mind. I am here and I am still and maybe I will be here until I am no longer anywhere at all, or maybe I will become covered in plants, or maybe I will be dashed to pieces by the monster. Maybe I will never make music again. But my keeper is gone, which means he is alive, which means that he will make music. He will make music that he loves for the people he loves and he will laugh and dance and shriek and sing. And he does not need me for that.

#original work #original story #dnd oc #dnd story #oc: Morrigan Icatheon #POV You Are A Viol And You Love Your Bard #This one's a little weird but oh well

[itwas50yearsagotoday]

8/3/23: It was 50 years ago today, August 3rd, 1973, Stevie Wonder would release his sixteenth (!!) album Innervisions. Here is where I'm hooked... finally, a Stevie Wonder album completely without any filler... even the songs that are just okay are pretty good here. Rolling Stone magazine says Marvin Gaye's What's Goin' On is the best album ever?? Dare I say that this album beats it and is the best Motown record ever, and is up there for best record too (RS ranked at 34)? I really can't because I've not quite digested Wonder's other mid-70s purported masterpiece Songs In the Key of Life, but I'll get to it on my own (I know the hits at least). Starts off with 'Too High', a song about drug and drink excess and at first seems a bit to on-the-nose, but the more I hear it the more I love it... like it's got this fast shuffle, and Wonder's voice is all distorted... you can't help but sing along to the 'doo-doo-doo-doos' before each verse. Before I go any further, I have to inform that I cannot say much about 'Higher Ground' and 'Living For the City' as they will get their own posts as singles BUT they really are integral parts of this album. Let's talk about the lesser songs that are still good: 'Visions' sounds like it could have been sung by Jim Croce or Danny O'Keefe (and I mean that in a good way) because it is much less about the music for once and more about Wonder's vocal talents that carry this downbeat tune. 'Golden Lady' sounds very much like then-contemporary Santana (actually we'll get to that)… this laid-back tune (albeit felt with some urgency) feels like it could be part of a movie soundtrack about an action film that takes place somewhere on a 1970s California town. 'Jesus Children of America' is seriously funky, perhaps more even than 'Higher Ground' (patience!), despite its kind of off-putting religious title… like when I saw that title I was like uh-oh, is going to be like a Marvin Gaye spoken word thing? Nope… just another quality Wonder tune. Probably 'All In Love Is Fair' is the weakest tune on the record, although if you like proto-Quiet Storm music it may do something for you, but not for me really. But then we get to the BIG two album-ending whoppers. First, 'Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing'… here's a tune that sometimes is my favorite Stevie tune. It actually was released as a single but not until after this blog is finished, so I'm talking about it here. It's got this weird spoken conversation intro where (presumably) Wonder is speaking Spanish to some woman and then he starts talking about Iraq and Iran, all in front of this kind Latin-style piano and backbeat… OMFG it's sooooo good, and fun! He then slips into singing… I love that the first chorus is a bit lighter than later choruses because at each later chorus every long 'o' becomes ohhh-ohhhh-ohhh-ohhh-ohhh-ohhhh-ohhhh, sort of this slowly falling melody. And you just can't help but shake your head to it, it's so infectious. Lastly then we hit 'He's Misstra Know-It-All'… which also sometimes is my favorite Stevie song because even though it's supposedly about President Nixon (ha!) it's just so damn lovely, goosebumps man! Especially towards the end where Stevie brings out the 'shouty Stevie' voice… you know, the 'BUH-BAY-BAY-BAY-BAAAAAAA'… fucking love it. So yeah, really... REALLY... if you haven't heard this record, I mean stop reading and go to it. I know I say that a lot, but this record really is timeless. Simply excellent.

(also... PS... if you load Tumblr from Microsoft Edge the Spotify links work... like, if you really need them... for me it's just more aesthetically pleasing)

#Spotify

[independentartistbuzz]

7 From the Women with Lenni Revel

If you haven’t yet heard of Lenni Revel or her music, you are missing out on a great talent and soul-grabbing music. While she once lived the ultimate pop-star dream with her name on billboards in Times Square and fancy LA A&R execs vying to work with her, she felt something inside was beginning to move in contradiction to a conjured glamorous life.  She knew deep down she wasn't an accomplished singer and even admits her tone was harsh, she was pitchy, she had a narrow range and relied heavily on auto tune.

She stepped away from that glamourous lifestyle and continued on a musical and personal journey of growth. She just released two songs from her upcoming album, Unbroken. “Where There Ain’t No Sun” is the country rock inspired track that unfolds into soaring emotionality lead by her vocals. “Annabelle” is an rock anthem with some outlaw country influence about a girl lost in her head, numb to the world, and barely staying afloat with her looks and charm.

We got a chance to speak with Lenni about her music and career in this edition of 7 From the Women. So, let’s dive in:

What Have You Been Working To Promote Lately?

Our current campaign is for the second single “Annabelle,” from the Unbroken album, which was released last Friday, August 19, 2022. The song is a rock anthem, with an outlaw country twist. Thematically, it’s about being a women in American culture, being lulled to sleep by the seduction of physicality and superficiality as a source of power and belonging. The music video enhances the theme even further; the main character, Annabelle, is visited in her small town by a mystical figure who appears one day to call her lifestyle choices out from a voyeuristic realm. My husband, Robert Revel, wrote the song, and he also directed, shot and edited the music video. Our promotional efforts are also true collaborations, from social media posts to playlist submissions.

https://youtu.be/sN3dTRS7Lms

Tell us about your favorite song written, recorded or produced by another woman and why it’s meaningful to you. I love the few women vocal artists that really break out into territory that feels disruptive, in an artful way. These are female voices that almost always make me feel that something swampy-sensual, hauntingly raw, and agonizingly honest is happening – making that kind of music can tend to compellingly disturb the listener and even challenge their long-held perceptions. When these women sing, they often exemplify the terrible aspects of nature that no one can control, like an earthquake, a wildfire, a hurricane, or a tsunami. Take the vocal performance of Billie Holiday with “Strange Fruit,” or Etta James laying into “God’s Song.” It is hard to dismiss a woman with that kind of soul-driven artistic power—one listens, and one hopes to have the courage to feel every note as deeply as they do.

What does it mean to you to be a woman making music/in the music business today and do you feel a responsibility to other women to create messages and themes in your music? As a female vocal artist and songwriter today, I feel more than a singular responsibility to women. I would like to see my music serving everyone, regardless of gender or creed, because only empowering a singular demographic might tend to disregard the whole social systems that women operate inside of; to truly liberate one means to liberate all. As a woman, however, I do carry a particular perspective, perhaps a history of ancestral pain and wisdom that I cannot deny influences my music heavily. My message is coming from a woman who was cultured in a society that does not serve to create healthy whole women, and I carry that knowledge and pain with me into my songwriting and into the vocal booth. But I want to encourage women to possess a self-reliant character by helping them cultivate an intimacy with life on their own terms. Not to be hard, fiercely aloof or emasculated, but at peace and reconciled to their own version of beauty and strength.

What was the most challenging thing you have had to face as a female artist?

In my early 20s, I had a brief foray into trying to make it as a pop singer. Instagram was a fairly new tool. I remember so clearly seeing the phenomenon of “selfies” begin to show up on my feed. It reminded me of the movie Anchorman where Ron Burgundy calls out to everyone at the news station to come see how good he looks. Just as vividly as I remember despising the new trend, I also remember taking my own first “selfie” and posting it on Instagram and noticing the tsunami of a response that all my other posts about art and poetry were not getting. I remember how that affected me. It communicated to me that my image was more powerful than what was inside. I bought in at some level and I used my body to garner the attention I knew I could receive. It imprisoned me in so many ways. But in truth, I was the prisoner building the prison. Systems don’t change unless those who are contributing within the system do something different. Now that I am moving again in the industry, I am still aware of the power physicality has. But I also know that bringing forth content that moves people emotionally and spiritually is what motivates and inspires me.

Do you consider yourself a feminist? If so, why or why not?

If being a feminist means that I am looking to help all women find their own truth and rise above the station that the typical modern social structures would have them remain confined to quarters in, then yes, I could be seen as a feminist.  But the “feminist” movement I see most active in the culture often displays victimhood first.  Out of that limited perspective comes rage, reaction, blame, judgment, and division on par with the very violence that suppresses women. Or there is the feminism that wants to emulate all the power and privilege of white men; a sad state of aspiration that suggests equal station will solve the dilemma of social repression. The latter form of feminism fails to recognize that equal participation in the power hierarchy of male culture is hardly the saving grace of women or the culture, it just broadens gender access to existing tyranny and brings on a conformation of oppression to segments of the formerly oppressed.  My music is about finding true freedom and courage, like the kind German student Sophie Scholl had while being sentenced to death by beheading in a mock trial, in a Nazi court, for passing out non-violence leaflets in college denouncing Hitler’s war. Though only 21 at the time, that was a woman rooted in her own power. This kind of courage is available to all of us as women.

What do you hope to share with other women in the industry with your music? When I look at most mainstream popular music today, I see an emphasis on self-promotion and self-interest. Music has so much potential to affect the listener and change cultural zeitgeist quickly. When music only focuses on the personal desires, pent-up rage or hopeless fears of an artist, the listener is affected and moved to do the same. History often shows that the oppressed or disenfranchised are often the ones to bring about real social evolution. Women have been dismissed for what appears to be the entire history of humankind, making us perhaps the original targets for subordination and relegation to an inferior station in the social caste. I am sharing this music, and my brand to demonstrate both art in music and integrity in branding that emphasizes finding an individual truth that simultaneously serves our species and our planet. My own journey has taught me to feel everything inside myself without contraction until I am holding all those aspects of myself in peace; meaning those surges of emotion no longer appropriate the serenity at my core. This allows me tremendous freedom to feel all I experience in life deeply…good or bad, and not be swept away or attempt to medicate it. All my suffering as a person, as a woman, had to do with me personally and willfully trying to control things that I did not want to feel anymore. My music, and my message to women in particular, is to grow deep soulful roots, strong enough to remain unbroken when the storms come; to stand tall and magnificent in no one else’s shadow; and to leave all contrived sense of victimhood behind and use that energy instead to shine. Before we join groups and causes, I feel this interior work needs to be done. I left the music industry for 7 years to do this work until I felt strong enough to come back to the business of music.  

What female artists have inspired you and influenced you? It is sad to say, but every female artist I have been truly influenced by has struggled severely with drugs, alcohol, or prescription medications to the point of debilitation.  Billie Holiday, Etta James, Beth Hart, Amy Winehouse. I imagine the issues that drove the substance abuse or misuse was rooted in deep pain, and I am guessing that the hurt also contributed greatly to their particular artistic power. But the pain eventually consumed them. I want to be a clear artist. I no longer use drugs or medication to escape or cope. There is a myth in the rock and roll industry that getting high enhances artistic expression. I feel such a depth of sadness, compassion, and empathy for these incredible women, who were forces in the industry, who inspired me, but who were truly suffering.

Connect with Lenni Revel via: Website / Instagram / Facebook / Twitter / YouTube / TikTok / Spotify / Soundcloud

#Lenni Revel #Annabelle #Where There Ain't No Sun #Interview #outlaw country #country rock #music