#but completely lacking the harmonious song

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x Fem! Reader

master list

tw: no minors gtfo i stg, kissing, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex piv. Etc

summary: it’s happening

a/n: we made it b holes and babes, special s/o to my beta readers @agentmarvel @blueywrites @jo-harrington @sweetsweetjellybean — this chapter is short and sweet. Hope you enjoy

His lips.

Your lips.

Firm.

Soft.

Cracked.

Smooth.

It feels like your souls are levitating off the ground. Hovering over your lip locked bodies and soaring higher to nap in the clouds.

He’s careful but sure, not pressuring you to open your mouth further but following your lead. His lips taste like bitter whiskey and Marlboro Red, a burnt sensation that has you coming back for more with each gentle brush of his lips against yours. The act is stoic. And coming from a very well experienced lover in the sex department, you didn’t see it coming. Prudent hands caress the warming apples of your cheeks, thumbs gliding over your soft skin every so often.

Having Eddie’s lips on yours could be compared to giving in while dieting, an addict trying to stay sober. You held off for as long as you could, telling yourself this shouldn’t happen. It would be wrong. But how could something so wrong, taste and feel so right?

Drunk— no dizzy. Head spinning like a carousel your mind is leading you now. Your hands find purchase against his neck, warm and sweaty from his hair. The other is snaked around him, bringing him impossibly closer, your bodies forming around each other like playdoh in a child’s tight grip.

You’ve never been kissed like this in your life. Every cell in your body is on fire. Simmering low and bubbling hot for him. Robbed of never having experienced something as sweet and tender as this in twenty-one years, you are overwhelmed with emotions at how right, how good, and how fucking fantastic Eddie was making you feel.

Opening your mouth slightly welcoming his tongue, you lick the underside of his top lip, the molten muscle sending chills down Eddie’s spine as you lightly massaged his lip. A moan shakes beautifully from his throat and he follows your lead. Coaxing his tongue gently against yours, a twirling tango of wet heat and fervor have you clutching his neck tighter. He licks into your mouth and you gasp, aware that although you’ve been kissed before it was never like this, lacking the passion that you are feeling while being kissed by Eddie.

No words are spoken and they don’t need to be. The high you’re on is pure euphoria, purple clouds and shimmery stars guide you as you pour your lust into Eddie’s hands and kiss him sugary sweet, your tongues interwoven like threads of yarn in a homemade set of mittens.

Hungry and trembling to feel more of him, your hands move leisurely to the front of his chest. His heart is pounding at your touch, his lips never leave yours. Completely occupied by your slicked lips cushioned between his. Your palms pressed flat against the cotton of his shirt as they navigate to his shoulders. The muscles in his shoulders and arms are well-defined, taut against your hands. Strength uncomparable from years of manual labor. Sculpted perfectly against your hands, arms capable of fighting two men at once, but tender enough to hold you tightly to comfort you. The same arms that wiggled around your thighs and your waist, never letting you go as you comforted him. They were powerful, majestic in a multitude of ways, but pliable and baby soft under his creamy, sweat slicked skin. Fingers moving gingerly downward, inching his jacket slowly off his shoulders, this was the moment, the one that would set off alerts to your brain and to Eddie’s on what you were needing from him. No longer hiding how you felt, no longer unsure or scared of the unknown, you shuck his jacket further down his arms. The creak of the leather squeaking a gentle song in your ears— beautiful harmonious notes of relief as it hits the ground and puddles at Eddie’s feet.

Goosebumps crawl against his flesh, and he works his magnetic lips from yours. Concern paints his face hiding a small trickle of want. Your face still in his hands, he pours his heart out into your eyes, but it’s not enough. If he was going to do this he needed to be sure you were on the same page.

His lips were wet and colored somewhere between the shade just before red but after pink, hungry and not quite full. Pupils blown wide, he tries to convey his thoughts in an unspoken way, but he needs to be sure this is what you want. Placing his hands in yours, fingers locked together in a softened callous grip of joined flesh, he looks from your lips to your eyes and back again.

His voice is husky and dipped low, dripping with sweet honey chords of desire when he speaks to you serenely, “tell me what you want Tooty.”

He’s leaving it up to you, never known as a gentleman before he would be just that for you, in any situation. But especially in this one. Out of respect for you and keeping your demons at bay, if you only wanted this— he’d die tomorrow with a smile imprinted on his face— never ask you to cross your lines of comfortability. Dice in your hands, he waits patiently, thumbs circling the top knuckles of your fingers.

Sure and ready you drop his hands to wrap your fingers along the safety pinned hem of your homemade gift from Eddie, threading the cotton fabric over your head you unthread your arms quickly, not wanting to waste a single second of seeing him. Coy in your delivery, you try your best to calm the wave of nervousness as it crashes around you, warm water soaking your skin as you stand in your bra before Eddie. But his eyes never leave yours, a soldier to his own word, guarding your dignity with everything he had— the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he wasn’t taking this seriously and only wanted to fuck you.

Fingers skirting under his own shirt you pry it off his body gently. Staring into his eyes you finally speak, “I want you, Eddie. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

He hums low with satisfaction, the fine lines of his brow flatten and smooth against his forehead, eyebrows receding from his bangs back into place. His calloused hands find your cheeks again, rubbing the pads of his thumbs against your cheeks in a windshield wiper motion, sliding against the smooth expanse of your cheeks, with no tears to dry.

The depth of his eyes are miles deep of rich chocolatey swirls, a fountain of yearning and longing as he whispers gently, “I'm gonna take care of you.”

Nodding along in a silent agreement, Eddie brings his lips to yours. Fruition and passion burst behind your eyelids, his lips are warm and cozy silk as he kisses his way down your neck. The sensation brings warmth to your core and goose bumps along your skin, heightened by the feel of his wet tongue on you. Angling your neck to the side for better access, his tender kisses deepen, whiskey colored curls tickle your shoulder blades and the top of your breasts as his descend down your neck capsizes. Large hands grip the back of your thighs and he pulls you up, hoisting you in his arms. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. His bare skin simmers hot against yours, burning with longing zeal. Electricity surges through you when Eddie moves towards his bedroom. Kicking open the door with his boot and back closed the same way, his mouth never leaving your body, tongue painting you with his slicked spit and wine colored bruising.

He bends down to his bed, carefully adjusting you down your back tickled by the comforter. Laying you down as delicate as a flower atop a loved ones coffin, he pulls back, eyes drunk on you and full of blissful lust, his dark curls hanging from him like a curtain, strong Oxford colored arms on either side of you, his chain necklace swaying in front of you, a taunting pendulum from his bare chest to the tip of your nose.

You timidly reach up to stroke his face, stubborn stubble that he keeps shaved is making a late night debut against your palm, he leans into your touch turning his cheek until it’s flush against your hand. His warm skin singing in your hands. He’s everything you’ve wanted and more. Kicking yourself silently for denying yourself the way he’s looking at you right now, you whisper to him, “you’re so handsome, Eddie.”

He pinks under your palm, he’d been called the name before, but under the weight of your sweet voice, your eyes shining under him, he melts like forgotten chocolate in a denim pocket in the summer. His heart shatters through the atmosphere and skids along the stars, only coming back down to beat wildly in his chest.

“Baby,” Eddie coos, holding your gaze, “do you know how hard it is to breathe when you’re around me?” you’re silent as a tear falls on your cheek, Eddie wipes it away with his finger curled inward, “you’re so beautiful it’s suffocating.”

Pendulum like necklace still swinging, you grab it in a fist and pull him into you, kissing him so abruptly a noise splutters from his lips as yours collide with his, tongues sliding sweetly in a waltz. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Your body is tingling all over for him. An itch only he can scratch, hungry for him, a desire that you haven’t felt for anyone swells in your chest.

Your legs are spread wide to feel the full weight of his body mass on yours, an odd but satisfying comfort all the same. His scent surrounds you. Hints of Marlboros reds and tangy weed mixed with the burnt notes of cedar and amber. He’s consuming all of your five senses, and you’re broken with his touch, swayed by his tongue in your mouth and his fingers holding the back of your neck, swirling in the hair at the base of your head.

His fingers fall from your hair, tracing lines across your shoulder blades as delicate as snowflakes falling on your eyelashes, strumming lightly across the strap of your bra. Humming against his lips you whisper a whimpered plea to him. Deft fingers coax the straps out of the way, and his lips leave yours kissing your cheeks and making a path of wet lips and sloppy sweet kisses to your shoulder, spending lazy minutes soaking up every inch of your exposed skin. Letting you know with each pucker of his lips how important you are to him. Repeating the same slow motion on the other side, you are heated up. Tingling with butterflies drugged with cocaine in your core, throbbing for more of his touch. You are an addict for him. Eddie— your drug of choice.

Arching your back as he inches his way down your body, his large hands wrap around you, unclasping the bra from itself in expert speed, the relief around your rib cage is audible as you let out a small sigh, Eddie’s curls tickle your bare stomach as he sits up. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath as he’s on his knees between your legs, his hands on his thighs, lips kissed red and pretty, dark eyes searching yours, your bra laying on top of you barely covering your boobs, nipples peaked and ready for their debut under the black silk fabric, your arms still jailed by the straps.

He cocks a smile as you wiggle your arms out of the straps, keeping eye contact with him during the entire performance, thanking a higher power your arms didn’t get stuck in your pursuit of nudity. The bra drops from your pointed fingers like a used tissue on Eddie’s blanket, your lips twist upward with a grin when his eyes go wide at the sight of your tits on display. A bountiful feast of perky nipples and soft skin, still sporting last summer's fading tan lines.

Eddie’s adam apple bobs in his throat like a gear shift slammed into third, eyes wide as he mutters, “Jesus Christ,” to himself. Taking in your doughy tits, heaving like soft cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven. Eddie is practically drooling at the sight of you beneath him.

Dragging his fingers up your curved sides, sending goose bumps in his wake, he cups the tender skin on either side of your boobs, squeezing the pudding-esque cups softly, bringing his face downward towards your chest. One fleeting look from his chocolate eyes to yours and you’re a puddle of melted ice cream. His touch is burrowed into your skin like radiation, his rough calloused hands feel like a cheese grater against your buttery skin. A sensation that has you moaning out loud once his tongue kitten licks one of your nipples and his hot breath blows gently against it, a warm breeze before a thunderstorm on wet sidewalk, flooding your panties at his touch.

He whimpers at your lacy moans, his mouth humming against you, face flush with your nipples as he rubs his tongue back and forth. Giving fair attention to your other nipple he repeats the process, his large hands engulfing your jelloy tits as his expert tongue teases you again and again. The sudden nip of his pearl teeth on your perked mound sends vibrations of electricity to your core.

He’s grinding down into you, and you gasp at his girthy length driving into your body.

Nimble fingers work his belt through the buckle between your two bodies, your appetite only increasing with each sucking bruise into your skin. Eddie follows suit and works fast against your zipper, breaking contact to pull your jeans off by the legs. A wet spot in your panties has him licking his lips, stroking himself beneath denim and cotton.

Eddie wastes no time when he grabs the delicate, silky black fabric on your hips and pulls them downward.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, when your pussy lips cling to the wet fabric, his dick kicks up in his boxer briefs, an impressive show of its own. He slides them down your legs and tosses them onto his dresser.

Lowering himself to your sex his hot breath lingers like smoke on water as he speaks, “if you don’t like something I’m doing— tell me.”

He waits for your nod of approval, which you give innocently. And when he lowers his mouth down to your heated center, fireworks explode behind your eyes.

His name falls from your lips at the first touch of his tongue. It plunges into your velvet drenched folds, and a symphony of whispered breaths and moans shuffle around the room colliding and mixing with the flick of Eddie’s tongue and the curve of his lips suckling on your clit.

Your hands fly to his hair, holding him tight like reins while riding a horse, you pull when it feels good, rubbing softly to dull the pain, and his eliciting moans send currants down to the tips of your toes. It’s shockingly arousing when you take a peak at Eddie between your legs, Dr. Pepper eyes carbonated with lust and desire. Trained on your face as it twists with pleasure and smooths into a smile when his devilish tongue strokes you in the right way, fast then slow, eager but coy, taking his time, expertly bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Just having his mouth on you, feeling him vibrate as the muscle of his long tongue wiggles its way into your center, has your hands frenzied in his curls, nerve endings exploding with each flick of his tongue.

You’ve seen it in movies, heard about it from friends, Robin even being so kind as to go into explicit detail on how it’s done. But much like the kiss, you’ve never encountered the sensation of a lover’s tongue between your legs.

It’s mind altering, blissfully creeping closer to the edge of an orgasm as Eddie laps at your weeping folds. You’re whimpering at his touch, one hot hand holding your hip in place as your back arches from the mattress, the other replacing his tongue in your center, the stretch of his one finger makes him groan, whispered breaths against your core. It’s a pleasurable pain, welcomed by his wet tongue. It could be mistaken as an exorcism the way you're frantically canting your hips as his tongue rolls against your clit again and again. The deep moans choking out from your throat, tornadoing with his pleasantries and whispered praises, and that's when you break.

Every color, every shade, every hue unfolds in your vision against the black of your eyelids. Writhing beneath Eddie you ride out your high against his face, he dips impossibly deeper, connecting your souls with each slow drip of your arousal onto his tongue.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, his hands still gripping your hips loosening them to rub your soft thighs down to the bend in your knee. He sits up, kissing your thigh he murmurs, “so sweet, so beautiful baby.”

Your cheeks heat with his words, blooming across your face and spreading warmly in your chest. Opening your eyes for the first time since your orgasm, you peek at Eddie. His hair is a mess from your hands yanking on it. A pretty sheen of your slick is painted on his lips. His hooded eyes dip to yours as he plants wet kisses to your soft thigh.

Wiggling from his grasp, you sit up, pressing your lips to the column of his throat, your fingers working to push down his jeans and the waistband of his underwear. “Eddie,” you plead against his sweaty skin, “I need you,”

Arms tangled around your bodies, his lips lock with yours and a moan escapes his throat, the salty tang of your arousal mixes on your tongues. Shoving his pants down his legs and kicking his feet from them in a fevered effort, Eddie lays you down against the soft mattress, his face hesitant, concern lacing his prominent features. Eyes almost watery with turmoil.

Holding a warm delicate hand up to his cheek you coax him to look at you, your voice wavering between frantic and needy, “Eddie, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, the thick of his cock is heavy against your thigh, and by the sheer weight of it, you knew he wasn’t lying about the length.

“Tooty— I, I don’t want to hurt you.” You know by the look in his eye he isn’t talking mentally, “you’re…and I’m—”

“Please,” you beg, “I want you,” slinking your fingers between your two bodies, you reach for his cock and gasp at the girthy length of soft skin as you rub it back and forth with the palm of your hand, the tips of your fingers sliding against the bulging mushroom head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he moans, biting his bottom lip, his eyes open and turn hungry, all color flushing from them but revealing the deepest onyx hue outside of the Milky Way. Adjusting your legs around him, opening wide, he lowers his head and dribbles a stringy line of spit to his dick, smearing it slightly with his thumb, easing it towards your entrance.

The smallest push of his hips has your breath suffocating in your lungs. His lips capture yours in a sweet kiss as he whimpers at your noises and the way your heated center pulls him in deeper. Clenching around him, he’s stretching your walls to full capacity with every inching of his hips.

Lips breathe air into one another as Eddie hovers over you, two faces twisted in egregious pleasure, moans coating the walls and so sugary sweet they could peel wallpaper.

Each thickened inch pressing inside of you brings endorphins to your brain, swelling your body full of Eddie. His arms quiver and his lip is almost bit in half when he finally bottoms out. A final guttural groan releases from him and you pull him down to you, sealing the triumph with a kiss and speaking against his lips letting him know he could move.

The first drag out has you suddenly feeling empty and lonely, almost pouting at the gone fullness, Eddie hisses when he pushes back in, muttering explicits into your ear as you fill his with sappy whines and whimpers.

“Doing so good for me sweetheart, sh— oh fuck,” sucking him deeper inside your gummy walls Eddie bucks his hips to a steady rhythm, covering your cheeks in kisses as you tangle your fingers in his curls, heavenly moans surround him like a halo— held up by fire colored horns dipped in black as he licks his lips and picks up the pace.

His heavy sack slaps against you almost clapping along with his thrusts as you yell his name. Tits bouncing circularly with each punch of his cock into you. He groans when your nails dig into his shoulders, eight pinked lines marking where wings would be as you fly higher and higher together.

“I’m not— Christ— I’m not gonna last here much longer baby, where do y—” he groans when you swirl your tongue around his thumb, “fuck!” He pumps harder into you and before you can say anything you’re both coming undone. Screams and moans surround the four walls as Eddie paints your insides with his cum, your pussy clenching and sucking him in, a harmonious symphony of deep abated emotions shatter down walls and engulf you both as Eddie collapses on top of you. His sweaty hair tenting round both of your faces as you both pant into eachother. Love circulating the air with tiny hearts and fluttering wings.

You’re exhausted, mentally and physically. A feeling you could certainly get used to. Eddie was so caring, so sweet. The high of your second ever orgasm still throbbing in your core and leaking down onto Eddie as you shut your eyes.

Sleep envelops you both as Eddie rolls you on top of him, kissing your nose and rubbing your naked back with the tips of his fingers, he’s still inside you, his softened length growing tired and motionless as the delicate cotton of a cool sheet hits your shoulders and your skin.

His chest is warm and slicked with sweat against your cheek, a softened lullaby of his heart beating puts you to sleep in no time.

Eddie’s a mess. Wondering if he just messed everything up. Were you comfortable? Did you enjoy yourself? Judging by the noises you were making and screaming his name he would normally think yes, indeed you had. But this was new to him. Being so deeply in love with someone and sharing the most intimate sex he had ever had. Light snores assure him that you’re okay, in a peaceful sleep, your inner demons tucked away for the night.

On the cusp of dreaming you hear it.

It’s whispered. Barely audible. But it’s there. Butterflies kiss the crown of your head and rub your back with soft petal-like wings.

“I love you, angel girl, always have— always will.”

readmore line haaaay

see you in the prequel: 1985

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

♡ handwriting analysis: alex turner and miles kane ♡

as promised, here is the analysis my wonderful friend (who used to work as a professional handwriting analyst) did of miles and alex's handwriting! a couple of important points to read before you dive in:

my friend analysed these blind - to avoid bias, she always makes a point of never knowing whose handwriting it is she's looking at, so she had no idea that these samples were from alex and miles while analysing them (not that it'd have made much difference if she had, she can't even name one am song lol)

she stressed that her analysis should NOT be taken as fact - it's just one person's interpretation of the material, and handwriting analysis is ultimately always subjective

the two analyses below are based on notes i took while she was talking and is pretty much verbatim - none of the wording is my own and i have changed as little as possible in typing it up

she noted that it was harder to provide a full and accurate analysis just working with photos of handwriting, as you can't see things like pressure on the page etc. she also stressed that context is significant when it comes to interpreting someone's writing, and it's important to bear in mind that how someone writes in one context, e.g. signing autographs or writing something for the general public could show quite different characteristics to how someone writes in another context, e.g. personal letters to someone they're close to. in an ideal world she'd have access to samples from a different range of contexts to provide the most detailed and accurate analysis. in other words, this analysis is quite rough

alex's handwriting:

(samples taken from roughly 2011 - 2018)

block capitals suggest this is someone who don't want to show themselves, makes it hard for people to reach them

someone interested in thoughts and ideas, would engage with these in a way that's intelligent and very original

a lot of emotional and social inconsistency, suggests someone pulled in different directions. they might show very different sides of themselves with different people and probably have complex and/or conflicted feelings about identity

very creative, someone who'd make interesting and unusual connections about the world around them

highly intuitive but also lacking harmony from an emotional perspective. lots of internal emotional conflict and changeability

someone who fluctuates a lot socially as well as emotionally - might go from being quite sociable to withdrawing completely. ultimately struggles to reach out socially and holds back a lot, but there might be certain situations or people they feel particularly at ease with where this is different

really hard to read, don't give much of themselves away

thoughtful and enquiring, interested in ideas

someone who feels things very strongly

signature:

implies someone hiding themselves or presenting as someone they're not. they want to look confident and exciting, but they're actually much less confident that they'd like to appear. lets their creative and artistic tendencies hide them and take centre stage.

miles's handwriting:

(samples taken from roughly 2022 - 2023)

a little sharp, could suggest humorous wit and/or being critical (either of self or of others)

ambitious and incisive, intelligent and enquiring mind

fearful or wary about opening up and reaching out to people, emotional inconsistency. potentially quite restrained - looks like someone used to hiding a lot of hiding of emotions

has an enquiring mind but isn't particularly interested in abstract thought, more grounded in reality and social/emotional things

someone with strong feelings, they get held in and confused. could be warm and open on a surface level, but looks like they'd be reserved about their innermost feelings

could be sharp tongued to avoid dealing with their own feelings

lower zone suggests someone who might not be completely comfortable in their own body and/or sexuality, or have a complex relationship with these things

someone with a tendency towards strong feelings and devotion/worship (could be religious, or could just be to do with the way they relate to people or ideas)

signature:

someone who wants to look more confident they feel. sense of changeability and flashes of insecurity, but ultimately suggests strength of character, not someone who's a pushover. they know what they want and what matters to them.

interesting extra notes:

the wonderful @ballad-of-what-could-have-been managed to find this sample of alex's handwriting not in capitals from when he was much younger (from what i can see, it looks like it was early fwn era):

so i showed this to my friend too (after her analysis of alex's usual writing) and noted that it was probably done when he was a lot younger. she said that all her points from the original analysis still stood, and that despite the fact this writing isn't capitalised it was actually still very hard to read and definitely someone not comfortable with showing themselves. she also said that it was more emotionally conflicted and uncertain than the later sample of their handwriting. the phrase "emotionally all over the place" was used, and she noted a greater sense of inconsistency with identity. overall though she said the earlier sample confirms that this is someone with a high level of intuition and originality, and she said they're someone she'd be fascinated to have a conversation with!

thank you for reading! if you have any questions, please feel free to comment/drop me an ask and i can always pick my friend's brain again the next time i see her!

[hwnglx]

hm i tried my best to explain, he has a lot of different facets to him, so reading for him can get a little overwhelming.. hope it's still a nice read 🤍

jake's ideal type

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

shuffled songs: bored by billie eilish young and beautiful by lana del rey “will you still love me, when i got nothing but my aching soul?”

physical traits

natural and classic beauty. harmonious features. deep and intense eyes. color more on the darker side. (like dark eyes you can lose yourself in) fierce gaze. something strong about their features that makes them stand out, it just catches your eye. face that lights up once they smile. (looks colder in a resting position but transform once they break into a smile) keep hearing “부담스러��” meaning burdenful. in this context, used more in an “intimidating” manner. in korean this can be used for people who have intensity to their look, people you can't hold eye contact with for long. he doesn't have an extremely specific type, just needs to feel intrigued.

personality traits

so, jake likes his partners to have a powerful effect on him. what seems to intrigue him in a person, is “reverse charm” where they might look sweet and innocent, but are much more fierce and savage inside. or look intense and cold, but end up being very soft and sweet inside. someone with a captivating aura, who carries themselves with a sense of mystery. a person he looks at and makes him wonder, awakens his interest like.. “oh this person must have such a different side to them deep down.”

jake also likes it when his lovers can boldly challenge him and his beliefs. he wants someone witty who isn't afraid to talk back at him, change his perspectives. someone whose words and actions linger in his mind, make him re-think his own and in hindsight change and transform him for the better. he wants his relationships to turn him into the better version of himself and to provoke him to discover his best self.

another quality he seems to cherish in his romantic partners, is when they're patient, gentle and persevering. he wants someone with emotional intelligence and empathy for people, who looks after the ones they treasure with great care. he needs someone loyal who won't be discouraged quickly, and remains committed to him through every trial. he seems to be quite self aware, so he knows that he isn't exactly the easiest lover to deal with.. whether that's because of his busy schedule, or his more complicated nature. he wants a person with motives and interests selfless enough to be accepting towards his faults, forgiving towards his mistakes. he wants a resilient person who can encourage him to work on himself. honestly, he seems to like his s/o to have motherly energy. he wants someone who will nurture him, coddle him on some levels, but also give him the tough love he needs to grow.

jake wants a person who puts importance into keeping the relationship harmonious. he'd appreciate a person who can balance him out, in a way where they can complete him in the areas he lacks. for instance, someone much more stable and grounded than him. someone who can be more logical or objective and less impulsive when the situation asks for it. i keep hearing “정신 차려”, which means “come to your senses” or “pull yourself together”.

(note; this insight was interesting because i think he's this case of opposites attracting and benefitting from each other. he could grow a lot from being with someone like jay, who has a stellium in taurus, which is opposite jake's scorpio stellium. idk if they're close but despite unavoidable clashes due to being so so different, they have potential to balance each other out pretty well)

jake puts a lot of value into understanding each other on a level deeper than everyone else. he wants there to be effortless communication between the two, almost telepathic, where they know what the other means even without necessarily being vocal about it. the person who seems to know you so well; they complete your sentences, or know what you're thinking or feeling just by one glance at your expression.

he also seems to like his lovers having this duality in personality, where they can be both; cute, playful and kittenish (someone who flirts in this giggly and coy way), but capable of having meaningful and long conversations about deep and serious matters in life. he does seem to love duality a lot, whether that's appearance-wise or character-wise.

him as a boyfriend

+ jake is a boyfriend who loooves making you feel like it's only you and him in this world. he really values alone-time and deep intimacy, whether that's physical intimacy in the form of quality time, or emotional intimacy in the form of deep conversations. he enjoys zoning in on his partners and focusing the entirety of his attention on them.

sweet aspect; he himself can be very moody, but if you need him to be your source of comfort and shoulder to cry on, he can become that for you. he'll put effort into making sure he wins over your trust and you feel comfortable around him. he wants you to feel safe enough to not be afraid of showcasing your emotions, whether that's sadness, frustration, anger.. he likes to see it all. he does enjoy seeing his lover riled up about him lmao, since to him it shows they're passionate about the relationship. but there is this comforting and warm energy to him, where he's good at making you feel seen, and listened to.

he is the type of boyfriend who will want to stick by your side through all storms. he really values what his lovers have to say. let's say you got into an argument with him; once you've both calmed down, he might sit you down, softly take your hand and deeply gaze into your eyes while quietly listening to your side of the story. he'll want to understand your perspective and your heart.

he can be responsible as a lover. it almost feels like a task to him to fulfill his role as a boyfriend, to make you feel like you can rely on him. he wants to lead the relationship, and make you feel secure. it's very much an equal give and take, since he does seem to enjoy leaning on his partner for security at times as well. evidently, he seems to actually like a balanced relationship with no crazy power dynamics.

- hm, some heavy energy here i don't feel comfortable diving into deeply. but i can sense him realizing he has a habit of so strongly clinging to his lovers, due to abandonment issues. which can be quite common for scorpio placements.. he's scared of being left behind and replaced with someone “better”, due to him potentially not being good enough to stay with. there's some lingering fatigue and emotional baggage from the past he seems to struggle letting go of.

jake can put so much pressure on himself to satisfy his partner. he wants them to feel fulfilled and confident in the relationship and makes it his responsibility. it can weigh on him if he feels like his partner is starting to lose the spark, fall out of love with him, and especially lose their trust in him. he wants his lover to recognize how much he cares about the connection, but is self-aware enough to understand it's his own bad habits and impulsiveness that can stand in the way.

i can see him having bad habits like, having wandering eyes or being too charming and.. complementary towards women, where it can border on flirting. blurring the lines (like in his eyes it wasn't flirting but his partner sees it differently). though i can't see him straight up cheating, “superficial” things like that can still understandably rub partners the wrong way. it can easily cause discomfort, conflicts, miscommunication. this can lead to trust issues on both sides. he can just be a boyfriend who requires a lot of patience.

[clericsong]

sunday and robin headcanons 🕊

cw: mentions of religious grooming, manipulation, and abuse

1. sunday felt immense guilt as he wavered from believing in the harmony into believing in the order for being a "traitor" and so he would pray penance everyday, not because he wanted to be forgiven (he felt beyond it), but because he felt immense anxiety over being punished for his "sin" specifically through something bad happening to robin. the day he missed his prayers, robin got shot.

looking back now, perhaps his plan failing had also been part of his punishment. but he also worries that ena may see it fit to punish him as well due to his failure. so he prays even harder now out of his fear for robin's safety.

2. because sunday was the more sensitive child but still always sidelined his needs for robin, robin developed her strong sense of will and self out of firming up her resolve in order to be a grounding presence for sunday, and also out of feeling pressured to be the "perfect idol and sister" worthy of her brother's sacrifice and love for her

3. sunday suffers from chronic pain on his hands similar to the presentation of stigmata.

4. gopher wood was the type of parent figure who made sunday's mistakes into opportunities to sermon him about morality and sin; he never punished sunday directly but would manipulate sunday this way through emphasizing his sinfulness and feeding his guilt so that sunday would end up seeking punishment or atonement himself. he also constantly praised robin over sunday to put pressure on her to pursue greater career heights that would isolate sunday from her while establishing to sunday his lack of worth in comparison to her to worsen his self-sacrificial tendencies.

5. robin mentions that she couldn't hear their mother's song during the disaster that took her life but sunday could. unbeknownst to robin, it's the song he used to sing to her as a lullaby. when she was shot, he made sure to sing it to her again while she was recovering.

6. robin is the one who kills the bugs for them because sunday can't even look at them.

7. sunday hates not being without gloves and especially avoids touching people he isn't close to without them. robin is one of the few people he doesn't feel anxious touching without gloves.

8. robin has an official celebrity fragrance that she was invited to assist in the formulation of. she specially requested that the fragrance have tea notes meant to resemble the tea sunday is fond of; she felt a signature fragrance designed for her could not be complete without a symbol of his part in her life.

9. robin has extremely broad music tastes and listens to everything, but she typically composes songs meant to fit her image as an idol.

10. sunday says harsh words when angry while robin gives a cold shoulder when angry.

11. robin is very used to compliments and even flirtatious remarks due to her career and thus doesn't fluster easily. she's also become good at sensing who's being genuine and who's just trying to pander. sunday on the other hand is unexpectedly bashful in the face of forward interest and doesn't quite know how to respond to flirting.

12. the reason robin has such strong a strong belief in human kindness started from witnessing how kind and selfless sunday always was growing up together

[trrsseea]

Lesson for lesson

We agreed to meet at Charles' apartment. When I got there, the apartment was empty. I headed into the living room and walked past Charles' piano. I always loved listening to Charles playing, his focused expression and the smile that played on his face was breathtaking.

I turned on the TV and some show was on, but I wasn't paying attention to it. All I could think about was the piano. Finally, I couldn't help myself and went over to it.

I sat down on the stool by the piano, picked up some sheet music Charles had laid out beside it, and flipped to the beginning, where there were light melodies.

I put my fingers on the keys and tried the first notes. My fingers slid over the keys and the melody seemed disorganized and inharmonious. I tried a few more times, but the result was always the same.

I rubbed my face in frustration and saw movement to my left. I turned my head and saw Charles leaning against the door frame, watching me with a smile.

Wordlessly, he parted to me, sitting down on the piano stool next to me.

“Y/n, will you let me help you?” Charles asked with a kind smile.

I was a little surprised at first, but I nodded. There was something magical about how quickly he took on the role of teacher and his calm attitude.

Charles began to show me how to hold my hands properly, use my fingers and play a chord correctly.

____________________________________

After a few lessons, I began to understand the language of music and why he loves it so much. My movement improved and became smoother. The melody sounded clearer and more harmonious.

At each of our "lessons" Charles seemed happy that I was improving or it was the fact that he could share one of his passions with someone. Although I doubt, I had the musical talent he did.

I love music, and on several occasions Charles and I explored each other's music playlists together and even found common favourites. But the way Charles always relaxed when he sat down at the piano to play was amazing view.

I loved that look, watching and listening to him and several times I fell asleep on the couch while he played.

____________________________________

I got better and better over the next few months. One afternoon, when I arrived a little earlier than Charles, who was late from training, I decided to train.

Last week I found one of our favourite songs and practiced it in secret so I could surprise Charles.

My fingers carefully moved across the keyboard with the grace and delicacy I'd gained from practicing with Charles, filling the apartment with a lovely melody.

The melody penetrated to the core of my bones, and sometimes my hand slipped a little, but I didn't stop and continued to play.

____________________________________

Charles pov:

Today's practice was a bit long, the mechanics needed to make some more adjustments and wanted to know if everything was working as it should. I knew Y/n would be at the apartment waiting for me.

So as soon as I got out of the garage, I headed to the locker room. I took a quick shower packed my stuff and headed to the parking lot where my car was waiting for me.

I got in my Ferrari and pulled out onto the road towards the apartment. I parked in front of the apartment, grabbed my stuff from the trunk and almost ran as I couldn't wait.

I put my keys in the lock, turned it and the lock clicked. The first thing I noticed was the melody from the piano. I walked into the apartment, which was filled with a lovely melody. I carefully closed the door and put my things on the floor. 

Quietly, I walked in the direction the melody was coming from. Y/n played carefully, but with a delicacy that she had lacked before. Her song was full of emotion, and at that moment I realized it was our favourite song. She must have practiced it in secret.

I stood in the doorway and listened to the melody, completely entranced by the moment. I was happy for her, for how much she had improved. Most of all, I appreciate her effort and dedication to the music. It was a beautiful moment and I didn't want to disturb it.

____________________________________

I led Charles to the kitchen where I prepared all the necessary ingredients.

I showed Charles all the ingredients and explained the process, which I printed out just in case so he could look at it as he worked.

Last week I was wondering what I could get Charles for his piano lessons, so I thought I could teach him to bake something. His passion is music and mine is baking.

I was scrolling through internet looking for a simple recipe and came across chocolate cake. So, the plan was clear, I'm going to teach him how to bake a cake. 

After work, I went shopping for everything I needed to make it and I still had to buy a cake pan.

____________________________________

Charles pov:

I stood in the kitchen next to Y/n and listened to everything she said, I loved the look.

After the explanation, we got down to business. I was amazed at the precision and concentration with which Y/n worked.

I watched her every move and learned how to handle everything Y/n showed me, what temperature to heat the oven, how to grease the cake pan properly, and most importantly how to tell if the dough was properly made.

Y/n let me do all the work and checked that I was doing it right.

I was just mixing the last two ingredients together: “You have to be careful that everything is mixed and there are no lumps left."

I slowed down and made sure I was careful with every movement.

The dough was ready, I carefully poured it into the cake pan, and it placed it in the preheated oven and set the alarm.

I walked over to Y/n and pulled her close to me: "I was wondering how we could entertain ourselves in the meantime."

I kissed her and was about to continue, but Y/n broke the kiss and turned me towards the line.

“Who's going to clean this?" She pointed to the counter full of dishes.

“We can clean it up later." I leaned in for another kiss.

“This is part of the process." She smiled at me and started cleaning up.

After a few minutes, we were done and the cake was about to be ready. The cake was successful, just baked and smelling lovely.

We sat together at the table and shared the amazing sweet treat we had created together.

We both laughed while baking and I realized that we had managed to combine our two passions.

And so, we continued our piano and baking lessons together.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

The Song We Are Drawn Towards; Jade Leech

A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.

Main Character: Jade Leech

Supporting Roles: Floyd Leech, Mr Leech, Azul Ashengrotto

Content: Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match instead), gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to friends to ???, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic and that was done on purpose, exploring different parts of Jade so he may seem OOC

Content Warning: self-doubt (Jade), injury & blood (Jade), some swearing, just general tweel things

Word Count: 5K

Author’s Note: Please do not repost my works to other websites or into AI software. I may or may not write parts for other characters; if you want to be tagged for those please let me know. I switch between third and second-person point of view, if that bothers you, sorry. Spell check done by Grammarly. Much like Azul's, this too was written in two or three days.

Azul's Story & Prologue | Floyd's Story

As a young mer, Jade would often listen in to what people had to say about soul matches. He would humour Floyd, and listen to him ramble about what his song and pull was like. For his twin, it felt like someone tugging at his tail playfully, and his song was like that of fireworks and twinkling stars in the night sky. It suited him; playful, full of wonder. And if Jade were to be honest with himself, he would admit that he was jealous of Floyd. That he knew, but didn’t want to admit, since then those jealous feelings would only continue to grow until he snapped out, and he didn’t want that to happen. 

“What about yours, Jade,” Floyd drawled out the question, peeking up from behind the bed. “Ya never share what it feels like for you. I wanna know about the lil siren song stuck in your head!~”

Jade put down the book he was reading and looked at his brother, pursing his lips into a slight frown. “You wouldn’t find it interesting, there isn’t anything to really say about it,” he sighed.

Floyd didn’t like this answer, and tugged at his brother’s tail fin rather harshly, threatening to tear at the caudal fin. “That’s not fair! I told you mine,” he whined. “It’s only fair if you share yours! We could even help each other out and hunt them down together!”

For as much as he enjoyed his company, Floyd could be as persistent about a topic he deemed as interesting as he was flippantly annoying at times. “Well,” he smacked Floyd’s hand away, smoothing over his caudal fin, “if yours is like a starlit sky, then mine would feel like a moonless, and starless one.” Void of any light. Void of any sound. Nothing but a gaping darkness where there should have been light. “Happy?”

“Hmmmm,” Floyd shrugged his shoulders and sank to the floor, busying himself with whatever had caught his eye. “Not really, but you’re being boring. Eh, whatever! When we find ‘em it’ll get twice as interesting.~ OH! Maybe one of them is a surface dweller! I wonder what their reaction would be to us!” He threw the toy he was playing with at his moping brother. “But you don’t need to worry, Jade, I won’t leave the sea!”

Jade sighed. He had only spoken about the lack of any sign that he had a soul match with his father. Not that he didn’t want to tell his mother, but he knew that she would take it harder than his father would. And saying that it was like the darkness of night without any light source was technically accurate, but Floyd didn’t have to know about this quite yet. He would tell him eventually, just… not right now.

. . .

The Leechs’ father could tell when something was off with Jade. He may have been good at hiding it from his brother, and masking from his mother, but the older eel-mer recognized that look well enough.

“Thinking about it again,” he asked, putting down some paperwork that could always wait. “You know, you can always talk to me, Jade.”

The younger eel-mer looked up towards his father, debating whether or not he wanted to reveal everything that has been weighing so heavily on his mind. “Is,” he paused, worrying over his lip with his teeth, “is there something wrong with me?”

Mr Leech got to his son’s level, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Nothing is wrong with you,” his voice was stern, but he knew that what Jade needed was reassurance, a steady anchor in the churning sea lest he be lost in it forever. “Some merfolk don’t have soul matches, and that is perfectly fine and normal.”

Jade opened his mouth and then closed it, eyebrows pinched.

“You have yourself, and you are enough as is. There is nothing wrong with you, even though at times you may feel that there must be.” He looked into his eyes, placing a hand on his cheek. “Also, you are in control of your life, Jade. You will form all kinds of different relationships, and you don’t need a soul match to determine that for you or determine your happiness or success in life.”  

Jade rubbed at his nose and placed his hand over his father’s. “Thank you, dad,” he whispered, as if he was any louder than that, all of those emotions inside would burst.

His dad pulled him in for a gentle hug, “And whenever you have a bad day, just remember that. And that you’ll always have me, your mother, and your brother.”

“I will.”

. . .

. . .

. . .

Jade was busy doing his morning routine. Taming down his hair, fixing up his uniform, and making sure everything was in order; that his courteous and carefully crafted mask was on. Since it was better to keep the less… appealing parts of himself away from the public eye. But the most difficult part of the morning has had yet to pass, waking up and dragging Floyd out of bed. Both of the mers were not morning people, but it was all a part of the experience of living on land and attending one of the best mage schools that Twisted Wonderland had to offer.

He opened up the blinds, letting in the weak sunlight. “Time to get up, Floyd,” he hummed, poking the mass of tangled bedsheets with one of his brother’s shoes that had managed to get on his side of the dorm. 

A golden eye glared out from beneath the sheets before turning back over. “Jus’ five more minutes,” Floyd groaned, pulling the sheets over his head to block out the light and his brother’s smug face. “Too earlyyyyy!”

“Tsk, tsk,” Jade tutted, grabbing the blankets and pulling them off, earning a loud groan and a tired yet irked look from his sleepy twin. “We both know that’s a lie. Now,” he grabbed a wayward lanky leg, yanking him out of bed, “up we get.” When did he get so heavy?

Floyd fell on the ground with an oomph, and shot his twin a venomous look. “Ugh! Fine,” he grumbled, rubbing his backside and making his way to the bathroom to freshen up. “Do ya think there’ll be any interesting guppies?~” He poked his head out, fighting with his uniform since over the break he had a growth spurt. 

Jade quirked a brow, looked over at Floyd and motioned for him to get back in the bathroom and fix his appearance. “The probability is high,” a sharp smirk graced his face, “especially since it means that we should have the chance to… manage those who fail their end of Azul’s little contracts.” He noticed in the reflection of one of his terrariums that his tie was crooked, leaning in, he fixed it. “That should be entertaining enough.”

“Eh heh heh!~ Squirming like a worm on a hook,” Floyd sang. He continued to busy himself with looking at least ‘halfway presentable’ by Azul’s standards, humming his and his soul match’s song under his breath, a dopey smile on his face. 

Jade could feel his mood sour a tad, but reminded himself that he shouldn’t be jealous of Floyd. Besides, he has fared well enough thus far without a soul match. He had his interests, his brother, an Azul to annoy and pester, and an entire world to explore still. New discoveries to be made. Plus, he had recently made a new terrarium and he could see the beginnings of new growth about to burst forth. He was content. Not happy, but content with what things were currently. He gently picked up one of the smaller terrariums, noticing it was looking a bit dry and in need of some extra water. As he was putting it back in its proper spot though, he froze, hand clenching the little glass in a vice grip.

He could hear singing. It was quiet, but it was still singing. And now it felt like the time that a foolish fisherman had gotten one of his lures in his fin, being pulled towards someone. The glass shattered, sending small flecks of blood and glass on his glove and the floor. But he ignored the stinging of his fingers and palm, all he could focus on was the song and the insistent tugging at his heart.

. . .

Jade had made it his personal mission since recovering from the shock of the sudden soul match, to make the singing in their head as loud as possible. To annoy them as much as possible. They had kept him believing for all these years that he was alone, so now they could deal with the consequences of their actions. Was it petty? Extremely, but Jade did it for another reason; if he was loud enough, eventually they would either seek him out to make the internal assault stop, or he would see them wince and he could make their life a personal hell in person. And he knew they were nearby, as the pulling at his soul felt the strongest when he made his way through the halls of the school. He could just follow the tugging, but he didn’t want to chase them down. He wanted them to seek him out.

Something irked him about this whole situation. And it was the fact that even though the singing in his match’s head was intolerable, thanks to him, the song in his head has yet to retaliate, still the pleasant background hum that it was on the first day. He has only heard it go up in volume a handful of times, but never to the volume of his. The tugging during those short outbursts, feeling like he was caught in the strongest gyre of his life, even though he was still on land.  

“Jade, are you paying any attention?” Azul quipped at him, snapping his fingers to bring the plotting eel out of his thoughts.

Jade shook his head, centering his thoughts to the present. “Ah, my apologies, Azul, my mind must have drifted elsewhere. Could you repeat what you just said?” He got caught up thinking about them again, and he bristled. Why should he afford them the luxury of even thinking about him?

Azul sighed and pushed up his glasses. “I said that due to the full moon next week, I won’t be able to look after the Lounge or dorm affairs. And we can’t just go about and hand over these duties to just anyone. So in short, the Lounge will be closed during the day and open all night.”

Ah, so that was what he wanted. “Is that your long winded way of saying that we will all be working midnight shifts,” he looked down at Azul, eyes searing.

“Azul is so meannnn,” Floyd appeared from seemingly nowhere, and tossed his arm onto Jade’s shoulder. “He doesn’t want to even find his cuttlefish! So mean, even to your soul match,” he bemoaned. 

Azul flushed blue at the pet name that Floyd had apparently dubbed his soul match, embarrassed. “I told you not to call them that,” he hissed, quiet enough so that no passerby was able to easily overhear. “Besides, only those who have found there’s or,” he glanced at Jade, “well nevermind the or. Those who still haven’t found their soul match won’t have to work the night. So stop your whining!”

Floyd rolled his eyes and got off of Jade. “Eh, still mean. Maybe finding your cuttlefish will change that?~” He leaned into Jade’s ear, making sure that Azul couldn’t overhear him. “Maybe his soul match will put him in his place.~”

Azul’s eye twitched, “Do you want me to put you on dish duty?” Whatever he was whispering was sure to give him a migraine.

“Do you want to buy new plates,” Floyd’s joking aura turned into something more menacing. He and Azul stared at each other for a few moments before Floyd apparently got bored. “Tch, whatever.” And he was off, as suddenly as he had appeared, slinking into the crowd of students that quickly got out of his way, lest they wanted his sudden mood swing to be directed at them.

Azul pinched the bridge of his nose, “So, technically you will be in charge of the Lounge this week.” Since you don’t have a soul match you have nothing better to do. He didn’t need to say it, but Jade could feel and infer the implication, and his left eye twitched slightly. 

He mentally smoothed himself down, hiding the momentary glimpse of weakness, of the mask slipping off. “Of course,” he voice was clipped, “you can rest assured that the Lounge will be properly kept to your standards.”

Azul gave him a look, but just summed up Jade’s odd behaviour as just a Jade thing. The eel-mer was never the easiest to read, even on the best of days. “Just no funny business, and do not turn the entire menu into mushroom dishes,” he huffed. He didn’t want to hear that revenue had been impacted by Jade’s hyperfixation on fungi.

“Half of the menu,” Jade bargained, sending a mocking polite smile towards Azul. Seeing him send him back a glare, he continued. “Afterall, Azul, you’re leaving me in charge. Part of that position includes overseeing the menu for the week. Besides, it would only be half. That should be a fair enough trade; you get to look for your match, I get a say in the menu.”

Why did the twins insist on giving him a headache at least once a day? “Fine, but only for this week,” he gave in. Jade pulled his weight in both his Lounge and vice-house warden duties, so he would give in to the eel’s demands this once. Besides, he wanted the same as Floyd; to find his soul match this year.

Jade chuckled, “Pleasure doing business with you, Azul. Please do keep me updated with how looking for your… What did Floyd call them? Ah, your cuttlefish, goes.” And he walked off before Azul could give him an earful of whatever it was that he was going to tell him. Perhaps staying at the Lounge should keep him occupied from thinking too much about his match. 

. . .

. . .

Ever since arriving in Twisted Wonderland, a song has played in your head. The first hour wasn’t horrible, just faintly playing in the corners of your mind. Sure it was annoying, but it was tolerable. But the faint humming soon turned into an assault, and you felt like you were standing next to the speaker in a concert. So, needless to say you were willing to do almost anything to make it stop. You’ve had a damn headache for weeks and no amount of this world’s version of Advil, Tylenol, or ibuprofen worked. How you haven’t snapped yet still eludes you, and you wanted answers. Now. 

Ace and Deuce were of little help, just giving you weird (Ace) and concerned (Deuce) looks. So you took it on yourself to get to the bottom of why this infernal song is playing on repeat while on full blast. This, naturally, led you to the library to hunt down some answers. Any students that rounded the corner you were in were quick to walk in the opposite direction, noticing the quickly building mountain of books, and increasingly irritated muttering. 

“AHA!” You shouted, finally finding something that looked halfway promising. A series of hissed hushing came your way but you shrugged it off, happy to finally find some answers.

“Humans may come down with peculiar symptoms should their soul match be of a different clan.” 

Soul match? 

“The most distressing of these symptoms can be found with those whose match belongs to the merfolk clan. As, until they find each other, they will feel like someone is pulling at them when there is in actuality, no one there. Some humans have also complained about the song that plays in their head, as some soul matches will purposely cause their song to be loud, as to remind their soul match that they are still out there. Waiting to meet them. 

A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.”

So this song that’s been driving you mad for weeks is due to your soul match? Someone who was picked by the spirit of one of the Seven; someone who makes you happy through a familial, platonic, and/or romantic relationship. Well two can play at that game. They messed with you for weeks, gave you headaches and migraines for weeks. The least you could do was to return the favour in full force. Bring it on, motherfucker.

. . .

Jade woke up, hissing. The faint humming in his head had exploded into loud screaming, but not out of pain or fear. No, it was spite and pettiness. Looks like his soul match finally had enough of the onslaught in their head, or finally figured out that they could control the song in his head. He would have been amused, finally feeling his match break their composure and disturb the harmony, but not in the middle of the night. Not the day before he would be forced back into the water during daylight hours and only being able to come out during the night. 

He glared up at the ceiling, gritting his teeth in annoyance. He really should have seen this coming, after all, he had been doing this to them for weeks, never once letting up on the deafening song. It was no use going back to sleep now, even if he tried. His soul match was too loud and angry to be ignored. Sighing, he pulled himself out of his sheets, spared a look at Floyd to make sure he was asleep, and went to the Octavinelle pools to try and cool off.

Slipping into the water, he shifted into his merform. The song was still loud as ever, but the coolness of the water helped take some of the pain away. He could always apologize through the song in their head, but he wasn’t going to back down from this battle. So he fired back, louder than them. It’s only fair.

The scream of the song halted for a second, and Jade smiled to himself, letting himself sink to the bottom of the pool. But that feeling of victory was short-lived, as the singing returned, this time hitting him like the sonar of a sperm whale, loud enough to make his eardrums rupture. He hissed in pain, letting his singing in their head cease, falling into something not as loud, but still noticeable. And as soon as it had started, the singing in his head changed to match the volume it was for them. What you do to me, I’ll do to you. Is the message he guessed they were sending.

Still in pain, he decided to lessen the volume in his soul match’s head to a pleasant humming, and they soon did the same for him. And so, he sat at the bottom of the pool, looking up into the faint blue filtered light from above, and let his soul sing for him. It conveyed loneliness, jealousy, hurt, confusion. Everything that has plagued his mind, all of the things he kept bottled up, was sung and put out into the open.

The singing in his head changed too, they were also confused, lost, and unsure what any of this meant. Nothing was said, but the emotion carried through. Both of them were like that for a while, humming their emotions and thoughts to each other. This continued until the slivers of sunlight filtered through, and cast their golden beams into the water.

Another set of mismatched eyes peered down from above, noticing that his brother was singing, finally singing for the first time. Floyd memorized the lyrics, and he swam silently to the other side of the pool, letting his brother be, and coming up with a plan.

. . .

. . .

. . .

Someone was knocking insistently at your door. You grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Whoever it was might want to have a good reason to wake you up from the dead of sleep. The song in your head hummed, like it was chuckling at you. You sent a sharp note through their head in return. The knocking persisted, threatening to take the door off its hinges if you didn’t hurry up and open it already.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you yawned, cracking the door open so you could at least put a face to the intruder before letting them in. “Floyd?”

The person knocking at your door at this ungodly hour was none other than Floyd Leech, looking way too chipper for this time of night. “Heyya, Shrimpy!~” How could he still have all this energy at this hour? “Come on,” he grabbed you by the arm and dragged you behind him without explaining any further in typical Floyd manner.

You dug your heels in, but it didn’t stop him. “Where? It’s night time, I wanna go back to sleep,” you protested, sending him a groggy glare. Either you could walk with him, or he would get tired of pulling you along and throw you over his shoulder.

Floyd decided to actually answer your questions for once. “We’re going to the Lounge, silly Shrimp!~ Silly, silly Shrimpy,” he said, still tugging you along behind him.

“Why? And why couldn’t you let me change into something else,” you pointed down to your sleepwear. “Also, I thought the Lounge wasn’t open this late?”

“Eh, Azul wanted to still ‘make some revenue’ and ‘benefit from matches finding each other and wanting to share some food together’ so the Lounge is open at night this week. Come on, hurry up! I wanna go bug Jadeeee!~” And up you went, there was no use in protesting or fighting him, so you accepted your fate as the eel’s human tote bag.

You sighed, and hummed the little tune of you and your soul match under your breath. The song in your head hummed along, harmonizing the melody. You couldn’t see Floyd’s face, since you were currently getting a great view of the ground passing by, but he wore a large and smug smile on his face as he quickly made his way to the Mostro Lounge.

. . .

The Mostro Lounge was quiet, a few new soul matches occupying some tables and chatting, and the small waitstaff team going around and seeing if they wanted anything from this week’s limited menu; The Moon’s Harmony. Jade stood behind the counter, making sure that everything was going smoothly while Azul was out. And so far it was, although it was the first night, but so far so good. During moments when there were no customers, Jade would test the waters with his match, letting the song go up in volume until they retaliated. He would shake his head and silently chuckle to himself, ears still ringing from the other night from when they had enough with his petty shouting in their head. They had some spunk, he’d give them that. It was quiet tonight in his head too, his match most likely asleep at this hour, so he was surprised to hear the annoyed grumbling in his head.

He decided to get cheeky, since things were pretty boring on his end, and he received a sharp note in return, making him wince. Even when half-awake they could still tell him off. He went into the back and busied himself with cleaning up a few dishes, letting his mind wander about. The pulling at his soul was the strongest this week, and he wanted to follow it, but he still wanted them to find him. For them to make the first move. For them to choose him. Sighing, he put the plate he was working on to soak in the sink.

The line pulling at him went taut. The singing in his head getting louder, but not from his match willing it to. They were close, closer than ever before. He exited the back, and came to stand behind the counter, looking out for any familiar or new faces. Still the same customers as before. Strange, he could have sworn that-

“Jadeeeeee,” a flurry of teal hair burst through the door. “I missed youuuu!~” Floyd sang, but Jade just cocked a brow at his brother’s entrance. “Also,” he tossed you onto a sofa, “I brought Shrimpy with me!”

Jade glanced at you, noticing that you were still in your pyjamas. “Ah, hello, Prefect,” he said in his usual polite and proper way. But his mind was elsewhere, the pulling and singing at the forefront of his mind. “Strange for you to be up at this hour, no?”

You straighten yourself out, and suppress a yawn. “Hi, Jade. Wasn’t really my choice,” you shot a look at Floyd, “I was just dragged along for the ride.” The singing in your head was also getting louder, and you felt like you were being drawn towards a magnet. Where are you?

Floyd’s eyes kept on going between you and Jade, and a frown formed on his face, apparently not happy with the results that he got. “I could’ve been out searching for my match, but Shrimpy is just so much fun when they get mad,” he flung himself across your lap, effectively trapping you there. His eyes shone, and he sent a wink at you. “Say, what’s that song you’ve been humming, huh, Shrimpy?”

“It’s nothing,” you state, knowing that once Floyd found out you had a soul match, a mer no less, that he would make your life a living hell… Well, more so than he already did. And you didn’t want both Floyd and Jade on your case or interfering with you or your match’s lives.

This interested Jade, who was still watching from the counter. The song in his head sounded annoyed, and tired. “Nothing you say,” he stayed where he was, watching your reactions carefully. “Do you know of soul matches, Prefect?”

You kept a neutral expression, “Just some of the basics.” The song in your head was curious, something must have caught their attention.

“But Shrimpy, you have a song in here, don’t cha?~” Floyd pointed to his head, and pointed to your’s. A shit-eating smile took over his face, “You have a soul match!!!~ Shrimpy and a mer, sitting in a tree-”

You pushed Floyd off of your lap unceremoniously, hoping he wouldn’t finish the rest of that lyric. He shot you a look, but rolled his eyes and got up from off the ground. “Well maybe if you leave me alone for a minute I can go find them,” you muttered. “And no,” you spat, “you aren’t invited.”

Jade seemed satisfied with this, and went back to see if anything needed to be looked after. Come find me, he sang in their head.

But what about choosing? You sang back. 

He looked back out, noticing that both you and Floyd were gone. Choosing? That can come later, we haven’t even met yet. Or at least I don’t believe we have.

You were being dragged again by Floyd, this time to the pools. Where can I find you?

Jade sighed, loosening his bowtie. Just follow the song. Follow your soul. Then you will find me.

. . .

. . .

You were floating in the Octavinelle pool, trying to relax. Tring being the main word, as Floyd was hell bent on spending time with you tonight. Not to mention, through the exchange of your song, your soul match has been loud, not to the extent of the first weeks, but still loud enough where they couldn’t be ignored.

Find me.

Floyd splashed you, trying to get your attention, masking the extra ripples from someone else entering the pool, and hiding your form from them. “Shrimpyyyy,” he whined, “come on! Sing your song! I won’t tell anyone! I’ll even sing you mine!” He swam up next to you, “Maybe that will help you find them.”

Find me. “I need to find them on my own, Floyd,” you sigh, knowing it was true. Find me. 

“Eh, you’re boring,” he sighed, and dived down into the depths, disappearing.

You swam over to the side of the pool, feeling like you were being drawn down, your song the loudest it has ever been. Find me. Taking a deep breath, you centred yourself and dived down, following the pull and the song, only coming back up for quick gasps of air.

Meanwhile Jade was stretching out his tail, and humming his song. He felt something tugging at him from above. Looking up he saw a figure breaking the surface. Find me. The pulling was from them. They had actually come looking for him. But he stayed where he was, watching from below.

You took in a few short fast breaths before taking in one last large one before diving down again. Find me. The singing was loud, the pull guiding you to the bottom of the pool. There, you could see a figure. Find me. You feel your lungs start to burn, but you had to reach them. As you continued down you finally saw each other. Two oh-so familiar mismatched eyes glowed from the depths, and Jade’s skin was glowing faintly from his own bioluminescence.

Jade looked back at you, despite being out of your element, and in your pyjamas, he looked at you in wonder. He snapped himself out of his own thoughts though and hauled you up towards the surface, where you promptly gasped for air, and coughed out a bit of water. He waited for you to catch your breath, patting your back gently. Not saying a word, waiting for you to make the first move.

“I found out,” you coughed, looking at him, finally feeling like your soul had found home.

Jade wiped some water from your face, “I’m glad you finally did.”

. . .

Bonus!

Floyd watched from below, “Heh, took them long enough. Welcome to the family, Shrimpy.”

Fin!

Link to Masterlist

[curiositythecryptid]

stop thinking about You.

Ris rambles about DRS2E7 because it made me cry. Do not read if you haven't watched DRS2P1 yet.

Let's start from the beginning.

They're trying to learn a new technique, the Rising Dragon, that is their only chance against a new foe. In order to do it, they need to master the principle of Motion, which is all about moving in harmony with the universe around you. They're going through a training course, taking turns trying to get the technique right, and it's Kai's turn. Kai fails, Egalt criticizes him, and this is where the scene starts.

"Who are you saying lacks spirit?" Fire is sometimes associated with spirit- with what's vibrant and intense. Kai is like that, he's full of spirit, it's one of his main marking traits as a character, to be vivid and confident. Just like his hair, Kai holds on tightly to anything that makes him feel unique. "Ah, you better not be talking about me!"

Nya asks to do the course as a pair for Kai's sake. Kai realizes that and quickly goes "I can do this myself, Nya!" He has to be able to! Just like he Has To Be Able To Light A Fire*, he has to Figure The Thing Out, he has to solve the problem because there's no mom or dad around- ah whoops.

(*TLDR: Lighting a fire is a survival skill, and survival doesn't listen to "excuses". What is needed in the moment is needed and that's it- either he figures it out or his family gets hurt, that's the logic he's used to.)

"I know what's holding you back." "What?" "You. Stop thinking about you. Start thinking about Counter Shot."

This is an old song. "Kai, start thinking about yourself as part of a team!" This is an OLD song. The smith siblings are very independent, self-confident people, and they're very hard on themselves. Independence is not a bad thing, but it can get in the way. Nya understands that better than Kai does, because she had an arc around it. Around not being able to solve everything herself, but rolling with the punches and trusting others to continue what she started.

Stop thinking about you. Start thinking about Counter Shot.

Stop thinking about how you need to Handle It. Start thinking about the thing that needs to be handled, start thinking about the goal, not about the price of failure.

In the end, the drill stays the same. They're doing the same course they would do if they were alone. The only difference is just the mindset of doing it together instead of Being The One To Handle It. It goes from "I'M gonna do it!" to "we're DOING IT!"

And then we get the flashback- and this is what we see:

That house.

That frame of the blacksmith shop is so important to me. They look so small in front of the house, and they ARE small, and for a while they were the only people living in it. This has almost the same vibe as someone looking at the mountain they're going to climb, standing before a challenge.

This is where the map is hidden. This is where Maya and Ray will be taken from. This is where they learn to blacksmith. This is where they're going to grow up. This is where will take care of eachother and this is where they will inevitably hurt eachother.

This is where Nya will be kidnapped. This is where the entire series started.

When I see that house, I can't help but see that history. The camera has them holding hands, looking nervous to complete the challenge. It zooms out, but INSTEAD of focusing on the horseshoes- the game they're getting ready for- it pans out to focus on THE ENTIRE HOUSE. Growing up is a challenge they will face together.

sure, it's an establishing shot. But coupled with their body language, it's. Something. They're standing together, holding hands, nervous about getting the course right. They're facing the house where all of that history will happen. This draws a parallel between Counter Shot (we're DOING IT!) and that house (growing up, surviving and everything that came with it).

It's saying, "this is a game they will play as a team."

But growing up, running the family business, lighting up the forge to work every morning, heating up their food in time for lunch, taking charge and coming up with a solution whenever there isn't an adult around to do it... that doesn't feel very much like a game anymore.

If HE doesn't Do The Thing, who will? Nya. At least, that's how it used to work- if he fails, he's giving Nya more work, and she's just a kid and younger than him, so he can't let that happen. He's giving those around him more work and he can't have that happen because they've already got too much on their plates.

"[what's holding you back is] You. Stop thinking about You. Start thinking about Counter Shot."

Start thinking about getting this done regardless of how you need to do it- there's no shame asking for help. (There's no shame in loving yourself, there's no shame in self-care- things he proudly does and states!)

Nya knows Kai very well, and in this moment she knows exactly the kind of mindset that he's sinking back into, visible in how worked up and defensive he's getting about it. So she comes up with a plan. Something from way back, some situation in which he didn't have that mindset nagging at him.

Seeing Kai and Nya have fun as kids is so healing to me. From the way he looks and sounds thinking about it, it's healing to Kai, too.

The establishing shot draws a parallel between their history and the game, and Nya sets a parallel between the game and Kai finding harmony with the world around him. But what is that harmony?

"I am perfectly still, Master." "Wrong!"

Egalt estabilishes that you're never still, even if you try to, because your body moves of its own accord, and because the world around you pushes and moves you.

Your body moves of its own accord. No matter empty the world, the house might have felt, it was still where they lived, where they were alive to make memories, memories he grows up to find special.

The world around you moves you, whether you see it or not. Nya looks after him, too, no matter how alone he thinks he is, he can't escape the fact that there will be things others will help him with. He can't escape the fact he isn't alone, all he needs is to do is see that.

Kai is not moving alone: that's Motion, and that's the Rising Dragon.

[hk33b]

lyrics from u by kendrick lamar

i alwaaays imagine this song as kuruk (and kyoshi) grieving over his failed avatarhood and it shifting into like bitterness in regards to his predecessor, similarly to kyoshi. kyoshi looks at kuruk with utter hate, wishing to not be compared to or addressed as kuruk's anything. and he gets it. kuruk’s disbelief when learning the truth about the spirits and yc's failed attempts in bringing harmony between spirits & humans completely destroys the pristine image of her. the idolization morphing into contempt gradually as his life worsens & yc can't reach him because his connection to his spirituality is weakening the more he kills spirits. he sees people praising her name and pleading to her in their prayers, and the sight makes him sick because yangchens never going to answer. one day in particular, kuruk was drunk as hell, very dangerously travels with his glider to the eastern air temple and just vents to yangchen's statue since he can't do so through meditation. at first he's complaining about the horror he has committed against the spirits and his lack of restraint with the amount of wine he consumes, then it turns into blaming yangchen for everything, then blaming himself, then back to her, he's crying and shouting and YEAH THATS WHAT I BE IMAGINING IN MY HEAD :D

one thing that fc yee took out of tsok was the change in perspectives. when kyoshi had seen kuruk’s life, the narration would alternate pronouns from his to her, but that would confuse readers so instead he stuck with it being strictly through kuruks pov. i liked the idea ngl. the song u by kendrick lamar is him cursing himself out, so it's interesting to see it being used with the avatars who are basically saying 'i hate you' to themselves. do u see the vision now?

Do i think kuruk essentially has religious trauma upon learning that yangchen was only human and even she can't save him, well yes! in fact, here are more lines to represent their dynamic :

but i've been calling for years and years and years and years, and you never left me no messages. you never sent me no letter, you got some kind of nerve, taking all i want.

ofc this mindset leaves kuruk, maybe he learns about the hardship yangchen went through that he stubbornly didn't want to hear about (nyahitha tried to put him on all her battles and hardships, kuruk closing his ears saying 'she had her shit on easy mode idgaf!'. fastforward nyahitha meets kyoshi who acts just as stubborn.)

[stonedcoldfoxtarot]

Why have they been silent?

Bonus Next Steps + Channeled song

Pile 1 -> Pile 2

Pile 3 -> Pile 4

Pile 1

9oW rev, Justice, World, 7oW, Hierophant, Empress, Hermit, 3oP, 4oW, Death, 4oP, 10oS, Chariot rev, WoF, 8oC (10oS)

Someone here may have been caught off guard by an unexpected ending to this connection. However, the other party feels they made a fair and balanced decision in moving on. In fact, they may have been the one to initiate a breakup, legal separation or divorce. The reason they are silent is because they have decided to fully commit to walking away and going at things alone. They may also be feeling betrayed by you or feel that you continually had your guard up towards the connection, which made any real forward movement next to impossible. This person could feel that you acted selfishly or refused to be an active participant in the relationship, giving them no other option than to walk away and permanently end things.

Ultimately, they may feel this relationship did not live up to their expectations or that you betrayed them in some way. They could also attribute the lack of progress in your connection to either one or both party's inability to freely give and receive love. There may have been a lack of self-control from both of you, leading to one person giving too much (to their detriment) and the other giving very little or not at all. Currently this person may be trying to get back on their feet, and if there are kids involved, they are focused on figuring out how to navigate life as a single parent.

Next actions

AoC rev, Hermit, AoP, 4oS (Moon)

Sadly, because they are now focused on rebuilding their life and finding peace, harmony, and happiness elsewhere I don’t see them reaching out in the near or distant future. It seems they feel liberated by their decision to move on and are looking forward to growing their life in a new direction. I see this person is slowly recuperating their strength, rebuilding their life and their finances and I also see that they may be keeping their next moves silent for now.

Channeled song: These Days by St. Panther

Pile 2

Hermit, 5oC, Tower, Judgement, Emperor, Fool, 7oC, 2oW, 4oP, 6oC, AoC, 7oP, 3oS (Star)

Pile 2, I see that this person could have ghosted you or recently left you on read. If that’s the case, I see that it’s because they have gone into a period of self-imposed isolation to recover from a sudden, disappointing situation that has completely upended their lives in some way. The thing is, Pile 2, this person is unaware that this major ending was divinely orchestrated to elevate them and that they are being guided to have faith as they step into a new life or a new beginning in love.

Right now, they could be unsure of which direction to take because they feel like they have more viable options than they actually do or each decision they face could seem more tangible than the last. They seem to be at a crossroads and are refusing to come towards you at the moment, as it would mean fully letting go of the past connection and really working on moving forward in the direction of what would make them happy. At this moment they may feel like they are not quite ready to heal from the heartbreak and pain of this previous relationship because they are only focused on what has been lost instead of what was gained.

Next Actions

Lovers, 9oC, 8oC, 9oW, Strength, Death (AoC)

In the near future I do see this person making a choice about this connection and deciding to walk away from their past person for good. Right now they are beginning to understand or acknowledge that this step will require a lot of willpower, strength, and determination. But they want to put this to rest so that they can come to you with a clean slate because they see you as their ultimate wish fulfillment in love. Because of you, they are beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel and are finally embracing the idea of falling in love again.

Channeled song: Right by Khruangbin (David Bowie cover)

The original song is rumored to be about gay sex, so some of you here might identify as LGBTQ+

Pile 3

8oC, 8oW, Justice, Moon, 6oC, 9oC, 4oC, 10oS, 9oW, AoS (World)

Those who chose this pile may have recently walked away from this connection rather quickly and the person you left is wishing that you would reconsider and come back. Maybe you divorced this person or completely cut all the ties There might have been a lot of things that were hidden from you or this person may have had a lot of secrets that came between the love you shared. You may have felt at some point that this person was your soul mate or ultimate wish fulfillment in love, but since moving on and leveling up, many of you no longer see them that way. I feel like this person may have betrayed you or been the main reason the relationship fell apart, and ultimately they know that you were right in choosing to leave them. A lot of you have your guard up against them which is why they haven’t bothered to reach out.

You or this person may be a gemini, libra or aquarius.

Next actions:

4oW, 4oC, 10oP, WoF, KoW, 10oC (KoS)

Currently, this person may be reminiscing about the happy moments they shared with you and punching the air over how they fumbled you. They could be emotionally withdrawn at this time and redirecting their focus towards work or their career in order to forget about you. In the near future I see them attempting to try and find happiness again without you because it’s finally dawned on them that you are not coming back into their lives. They will forever be on the outside looking in, wishing they would have done things differently. Tbh I don’t see this person trying to make contact, as they are genuinely working towards letting you go (even if they aren’t quite there yet). For others of you, I feel that if this person were to see you happy with someone else, they might try to contact you in order to pick a fight or knock you off your square so that you sabotage your new connection. If this happens, just Ignore them.

Channeled song: I still Love You (Bonus Track) by Windy City

Pile 4

6oW, 6oS, 9oW, 7oP, 10oW, 9oC, 10oS, WoF rev, 9oP rev, Death rev (Lovers)

You may have moved away from this person or shown signs of being over them. Some of you may have actually physically moved away from them while others may have emotionally disconnected and created some much-needed distance. I see here, Pile 4, that this person may have recently ended a bad relationship or marriage and feels like, in the past, they have brought nothing but flighty energy and unnecessary stress to your door. In the beginning, they may have been more confident and made you feel like they could offer you the commitment you were searching for. But somewhere along the way, things might have gotten muddy, and one or both or you decided to pull back.

This person has been silent because they are afraid that you have your guard up and don't want to hear from them. However, you will hear from them eventually because, despite their fear, a bigger part of them wishes to reconnect and heal any issues between the two of you. For many of you, this person has high hopes of being in a committed relationship with you, but is hesitant to make the next steps to make their dream a reality. This could be because they were deeply hurt and wounded in a past connection and are afraid to open up and trust others again.

I see that this person may also have financial issues or may have recently lost a lot of money in a separation. For some, they had to give away something tangible such as money or assets, in exchange for their freedom from a toxic ex or business partner. They may have even owned a successful business with their ex and have had to hand over ownership or offer to buy them out in order to get away from them completely. Regardless, I feel this person deeply desires to restore balance in your connection and re-establish communication since they know they don’t want things to be over, but they are not necessarily making any sudden moves for now.

Next actions

AoW, Chariot (3oP)

This person is thinking about how to approach you and what to say. I feel that in the past they may have been fickle or kept you waiting, but they realize they need to play their cards right to avoid being ignored or blocked. They don't want to blow their chance because they really want a new beginning with you. Currently, I see this person being focused on rebuilding their life and finances so that they can offer you a solid commitment in the near future.

Channeled Song: For the Love of You, Pts 1 & 2 by The Isley Brothers

Thanks for reading🔮✨

© 2023 stonedcoldfoxtarot. All rights reserved. Please do not copy, translate, edit or redistribute.

[heliza24]

Let's talk about the music in Young Royals! (Part 2)

This is the second part of a two part analysis. You can read part 1, which focuses on needle drops in the show, here.

I absolutely love Matti Bye's original Young Royals score. It is beautiful and immersive. It makes Hillerska feel like some place special. It shimmers and sparkles and draws us in to the emotions of the characters.

I've already talked about how effective the score can be at elevating certain scenes and creating intimacy in my posts analyzing the sex scenes in the show, which you can read here and here. But today I want to focus on another purpose of the music: the way that it emphasizes themes. Much like the needle drops in the show, the score helps emphasize the difference between public performance and genuine emotion. The conflict between the characters' assumed roles and their actual feelings is one of the biggest themes of the show, and the score helps establish this.

In order to examine how the score reinforces this theme, I want to break down the music in one small section of the show. The music that underscores Wilhelm's speech at the end of 2.6 tells us so much about what Wilhelm is going through in that moment, and it's the culmination of several musical motifs that we've heard earlier in the show.

In order to really be able to listen to the score, I ran this little clip through the program that I use for video edits, that separates vocals from background music. It is admittedly better at isolating words than it is music, so the audio here isn't perfect. But I think having the dialogue muted helps when you're trying to concentrate on the music and pick out melodies. I'm going to use time stamps based on this video for the rest of this post.

At the beginning of this clip, the score feels almost... familiar. There's a shimmery opening sound, and then a sequence of falling notes. It sounds so familiar, in fact, because it's a version of "Recomposed", one of the two tracks (along with "Harmony Theme") that are played most frequently throughout the show, and that together make up a kind of unofficial "theme song" for the show.

However, these two themes are used in very specific ways. You never hear them used in intimate scenes between two characters, or when a character is talking about their true feelings. Instead, they're used over montages of the students at Hillerska, when the class system of the school is on full display, or in moments of stress for our main characters. The best example is probably their wide use in 1.3 during parent's day. "Recomposed" plays when August is making a stink about letting Sara, Simon, and Linda eat with the boarders, and when August makes Wilhelm pose for photos with him. "Recomposed" is beautiful but it's also stressful, and it's used here to underline how arbitrary and discriminatory the Hillerska traditions are, and how uncomfortable Wilhelm feels adhering to them.

So, the first 55 seconds or so of the speech the scoring sounds like "Recomposed". But not exactly like "Recomposed". It's a little slower. The notes are more syncopated. It almost feels like the melody is breaking down. Just like Wilhelm's ability to maintain his facade and play his role is also breaking down. If you were to listen to this section of the speech with the words unmuted, you would hear Wilhelm struggle through and then abandon the scripted speech he's been instructed to give. So the idea of this oft-repeated musical motif also being slowly discarded is just perfect.

The next section of the clip, from around :55 - 2:05, is characterized by a series of ominous sounding chords and the lack of a clear melody, which reflects Wilhelm's anguish as he decides whether or not to tell the truth about him and Simon. I think this is a good reflection of the way the score in general shifts between seasons 1 and 2. Season 1 has a lot of complete, distinctive melodies. By comparison the season 2 score feels muddy. There aren't as many distinctive melodies, and the emphasis is on highlighting the stress and confusion that characters are feeling rather than creating a pretty song. This makes the season 2 soundtrack album less satisfying to listen to on its own, but works really well in context. Season 2 is full of amplified emotions and the score really captures that.

Ok, now we're on the last part of the clip, from 2:05 to the end. This is my favorite discovery that I made while working on these posts. For a long time I could not figure out where I had heard this melody before. The piano notes sounded so familiar. It made me think of Simon and Wilhelm in happier times. And then I remembered: the fish scene. This clip once again has (most) of the vocal track taken out. Can you hear how it's the same melody as the end of the speech clip?

So, we have a musical motif that is closely associated with Wilhelm and Simon's love that plays while Wilhelm is admitting to being in a relationship with Simon publicly for the first time. Makes sense, right? (Also thank you to @books-books-smolderinglooks for pointing out that this is on the soundtrack for season 1 as the track named "Dad"!)

Well I got curious, and did a full series rewatch, looking for this musical motif. And I found it in two more places besides the fish scene and the final speech. It also plays during Wilhelm's first two sessions with Boris the counselor. These sessions are so significant for Wilhelm. They allow him to actually feel his emotions in a safe place and realize that he does actually have agency over how he chooses to live. So while I was originally thinking about this as the "Wilmon Musical Theme", I had to revise my thesis about it a bit. Now I would describe it as the "Wilhelm Living In His Truth Theme", which of course includes Simon.

It's so meaningful that this music plays while Wilhelm is admitting that it was him in the video. He's doing what he should have done at the end of season 1, telling the truth and being honest about his and Simon's connection. And he's reclaiming agency over his life by refusing to continue to lie. The music subtly enforces this, without us even realizing, by using a motif that we have already associated with those themes.

I cut off the clip of the speech right before it transitions into "The Most Beautiful Boy" by The Irrepressibles, but I think the juxtaposition of that needle drop with this musical motif is so beautiful.

Those are all my thoughts on the score, and this particular musical moment in the show, for now. Do you have a scene where you think the score is particularly effective? Do you have more scenes that you want me to analyze? My ask box is open and I would love to hear your thoughts!

[rollthehighlightswiththelowlifes]

Details I love from Trolls 3

The shakey cam after the failed Brozone performance, like a documentary being made about the band falling apart

Poppy’s shocked face when John Dory spanks Branch

John Dory’s impressed nod at Branch’s falsetto made of gold

How completely bored Floyd looks the second John Dory starts trying to recognize him

The little faces Gristle & Bridget make in the background

The glitter on Branch after Ronda appears

Venner’s one earring

The ‘I got a New Car’ song by Jay Bee

The way Veneer tries to mimic Velvet’s posture

The photo of kid John Dory being chased by Spruce & Clay during Floyd’s song

Poppy’s amused fondness on Branch’s complete disinterest when Tiny Diamond first appears

The complete LACK of a splash when Ronda hits the water

Also the orbeez water

Pool noodle/inflatable jungle

Branch’s confusion when John Dory says Branch wrote that song

Also incredibly hot of Dreamworks to take a character who was the ‘heart throb’ with a six pack, give him a six pack, and never mention it

Brandy’s Hair

Bruce’s reluctant acceptance when he learns Floyd’s in a Diamond prison

Brandy’s fond nod for Bruce to prove himself to his kids

Floyd’s hair starts turning white after he’s put in the shoulder pad for the first time (the movie never makes it obvious, but you can see it while he’s still in there)

Branch’s ‘wtf’ look when Bruce says it’ll be hard to separate the art from the artist

Somehow John Dory is the most put together of Brozone (only has slight fraying to his pants, Bruce’s is worse, Clay’s crazy hair, Floyd’s dying, and Branch’s pants are patch-worked)

Poppy & Viva have the same freckles

Clay’s delight for Viva when her & Poppy realize they’re sisters

Viva using a golf tee like a walking stick

The way Clay IMMEDIATELY drags John Dory away when he takes over from Branch

When Poppy & Viva are stargazing you can see the scrapbook and camera they used earlier in the song

The concerned look Bruce and John Dory share when Clay says they won’t be able to bring Poppy

Clay’s amazed/surprised look when Poppy says the Bergens have stopped eating them

Bruce’s smile gradually fading in the background when Branch talks to Viva about living in the bunker

Branch waiting in the background for Poppy while she tries to convince Viva to come

The repeated sibling relationship of ‘making up little dances’ and the difference in response between Poppy and Velvet

The fact Branch had to AGREE to putting on a diaper in front of his GIRLFRIEND

The immediate annoyance from Clay & Bruce when John Dory starts criticizing

Branch’s alarmed face at Clay’s “I’m A Licensed CPA!”

The gradual despair on Branch’s face as the fight goes on

John Dory holding up five fingers when he says ‘four little brothers’

John Dory visibly taking a breath to calm himself

Gristle checking himself when Bridget asks if he smells something

‘Gristle, I didn’t think we’d both be tied up on this honey moon’ WTF

Tiny Diamonds worried expression when Poppy says she doesn’t know what she’s doing in the vent

Floyd going limp when Velvet and Veneer enter to not give away Branch

Gristle’s pouty face in the corner as Bridget and Viva talk

Veneer hiding behind Velvet when Rhonda shows up

Gristle coming in clutch and managing to throw Rhonda onto the boat

The way Viva just kicks Veneers ass in half a second

The way Velvet really looks like a Cuphead character when she suggests and encore

Crimp’s ukulele doesn’t have actual strings/looks like a toy

Props to Bridget for throwing Gristle & Rhonda onto a MOVING boat. She caught them back up to that thing!!

All the brothers having different colors around them when they hit the harmony

Branch looking up when he asks what happened

John Dory reading Clay’s sad book in the background when Clay & Branch are talking

The matching Kismet outfits

Branch’s brothers dancing together in the front

[curiouselleth]

Raistlin is Eru? Go on...

Hi @backgroundelf!

Thanks for asking, I'm thrilled to share it with someone new! A forewarning, however; this got a bit long, I had a lot of fun writing it all out lol 😂😅

So, Raistlin is Eru is a crack theory I've been rotating on and off for a little while.

I think I got the idea during a conversation about Eru and the Valar, specifically how Eru seemed to be so hands off after the Valar entered Arda, and how the only actions he seemed to take were preventing the Valar from doing things that would endanger the world, namely during the Ainulindalë, preventing too much discord in the music and going to war with Numenor.

And it just kinda popped into my head. Maybe it was the specific phrasing of discord in the music that reminded me of some of Lord of Nothing from the Last Trial:

(this is from the 2021 english dub on youtube)

"It's not too late yet, to play a new song, clear the discord and correct what went wrong!"

Then a few lines later:

"It's not too late yet, to fix the problem-- change the dissonant song that life has become, not too late! For a new world, one of harmony suppressing the old!"

And I just started thinking about it, and it kinda made sense? Still in a crack theory way but oh my gosh it made sense. It would explain Eru's lack of interference, he saw the damage that gods outside a world, not living in it could cause. I haven't finished the Dragonlance Legends trilogy yet, but from the Chronicles with Paladine living in the world not using his full powers and being part of it (a bit like Gandalf in hindsight), that seemed to work a lot better! So only those who were a part of it - the valar - had the power to more actively shape it.

But then, things that threaten the very world's existence like the discord in the music or the valar going to war with Numenor? He reacts. And in the case of Numenor - violently.

And as I was just reading a Dragonlance timeline, the similarities between Dragonlance and the Silmarillion are prominent. I won't go into detail, there's far too much and I've barely skimmed it.

He saw the catastrophic damage to Beleriand and it's peoples during the war of wrath. A continent rented and destroyed. He will not see his world hurt again. So when Numenor invades, he fears what the Valar would do when attacked, because the damage in Beleriand when they weren't attacked was so bad, what happens when they feel they need to defend themselves? So he drowns Numenor, he destroys the Numenorians in Valinor, he bends the world and removes Valinor, removes the valar, from it. They could have good intentions, the best intentions, but he will protect his world. He will not see his world destroyed again.

But it's not just that. The Numenorians wished to become immortal. Wished to challenge the valar, the gods to get it. How long until they wish for more than immortality, how long until they wish for the powers of the Valar, how long until they wish to become gods? Almost exactly. Like. Him.

So he utterly destroys them so none but the faithful escape, so none will survive to continue pursing this goal, just like him. Just like how he wished he would've been stopped. He saves his world. But it is irreversibly changed.

After a time, the Valar play less and less of a roll in the world, as the world grows away from him. He has too seen what happens when gods are worshipped for too long. More war, more death, more destruction. Maybe it wouldn't happen the same way in this new world. But he will not risk it.

Even though he planned an end of his world, he planned it to be renewed. Without hurt.

You can see him in the gift of men too. He has known long ages in the abyss. Completely alone, nothing, desolate, but the worst, knowing that it was never going to end. Never. Shackled to this eternity. So he gives them the gift to leave, that he wished for more times over than he could count.

But he puts eternity on the elves. I haven't fully thought this part out, perhaps after Arda is made anew, Arda unmarred, he has planned a end for himself. Not necessarily suicide, but an end. Stepping away, going where his spirit will. This life ending and becoming something new. And that is why he leaves eternity on the elves. So, as a race, they may step in to fill the gap he left. Not as gods, not that powerful. But all of them together sharing the power. It becoming their world. And perhaps after a somewhat similar cycle of being in that role for some time, they get to be in control of their fate. And they get to change it as Raistlin changed his fate of eternity as a god.

---

But how did this happen? How did Raistlin make a new world when it was too late? *insert entirety of Lord of Nothing here*

The flame imperishable. It's so mysterious in the Silmarillion. We know so little.

So how did it come to be?

Raistlin spent many ages in the abyss. Some more clear than the others, some with not a thread of sanity. It would come and go. But over time, he grows a little. As a person.

His realization of how deeply wrong his actions were tormented him endlessly. But it was what saved him. He dwelt on it, reflected and grew. He gained compassion and empathy. The grief for what he did, the pain he caused others in trying to avoid it himself gnawed at him. Consuming him. But he learned, and became better.

The multiverse is semi-canonical in Dragonlace. When the world had died, other gods saw. How sad, a few thought. How foolish, many more thought. Then they moved on.

Uncounted ages later, one looks back. And sees with a shock that Raistlin has changed so much. And decides to give him a second chance. If he hasn't changed enough he will just fail, nothing more coming from it. "One without a heart cannot create life," (paraphrasing Takhisis.)

The god gives Raistlin the barest of sparks. Raistlin doesn't notice for a long time, he had long ago retreated to one of the corners of the abyss. If such a thing exists in a endless void.

But, he finds it. He searches for the one who left it but nothing. He studies it, cautious. Is he imagining it? It wouldn't be the first time he was hallucinating. But no, it's real. There is no outside influence on it. It's just there. A chance.

For a long time, he does nothing. He is so afraid, what if he fails again, what if he actually hasn't grown? (I'd like to think he also gained at least a little self awareness over time lol)

Eventually, he decides. He goes for it. He nurtures the tiny spark, he nurtures it and cares for it and protects it and it grows, and grows, and grows. It grows into the Flame Imperishable.

And he finally is brave enough to do it, to create life. And he creates the Valar. The Maiar. They create the world. He fears that he is too flawed to do it alone.

Ainulindalë happens. The world is made, he is secretly delighted when the dwarves are made, but he will not change The Plan (TM) this early, too risky, they'll have to wait their turn. The elves and men come, the Two Trees come and go, the First age, the Second, time goes on and time. The stories we love happen and are written and forgotten as time ticks ever forward. As Raistlin's world lives.

He knows it will never be enough to make up for his mistakes. There is no atoning for killing his first world. But he does everything he can to make this one good, and life flourishes.

There's just so many parallels and Eru's actions can be explained and make sense in a way, Raistlin's choices, his history and experiences drive him to do differently, to act out to prevent others from making the same choices, and to make a different ending. He sees the parallels, the similarities too but makes sure that there will be a different ending.

---

I'll definitely write this eventually, but my silm cyoa fic Be He Foe or Friend is really getting away from me and getting bigger so it might be a while. I just know if I have more than one big writing project going at once I won't finish anything lol. I don't know, maybe I'll start figuring out a plot or something soon lol.

I really haven't read many of the Dragonlance books yet, I'm mostly just using knowledge from the musical, chronicles, and the first and second books of the legends trilogy, so I don't know if all of it is really accurate to the books. But it's still fun lol

Sorry this got SO long, I was curious so I stuck this whole thing in a doc (minus the tags lol) and its 1590 words 🤣

Thank you so so much for the ask, 💖💖💖 I really enjoyed talking about this and if you have questions or want to talk about it more I'd LOVE to lol.

[velidewrites]

Lucien Vanserra has lost everything: his lover, his home, his friend. Now, on a Solstice night far too cold for the fire in his blood, he watches his mate slip away from him, too—right into the arms of another male.

He makes a promise then, to the stars who have never listened—he will no longer dream. From now on, Lucien is going to burn—and he’ll make sure the rest of the world burns with him.

Note: For @elucienweekofficial Day 6: Travel! This was going to be a long-shot but the plot ended up plotting too much and now it's a multi-chapter. I hope you enjoy this prologue!

Warnings: Sadness factory, Beron Vanserra (content warnings in later chapters!)

Read on AO3

Prologue

The Autumn woods hum a gentle song.

Elain wakes up to its melody, carried by the morning breeze. She’d never been here before—in Velaris, the season is dim and grey, even the Sidra losing some of its usual sparkle. She isn’t used to the splurge of colour, a spectrum of yellows and oranges and reds so vibrant that she can’t help but be grateful for her Fae eyesight, able to grasp it all.

The path she’d woken up on is veiled in what seems like a thousand autumn leaves, some of them bronze and trampled by hunting boots, some of them accompanied by large, heavy paws. The others, though, lay out a clear trail as they reflect the sunlight’s golden gleam.

Elain follows it without question. Without a shadow of a doubt.

She listens in to the soft crunch of the leaves beneath her own boots, strangely large and black, an unlikely fashion choice for someone such as herself. She dismisses the thought quickly, though, as a chirping bird flits past her—a new harmony in the Autumn song.

The quiet flow of a stream joins it eventually as she approaches it, each step quicker than the last. Her throat feels dry all of a sudden—as if the mere sight of the fresh, sparkling water had spurred the fire in her throat. She swallows the sensation patiently—after all, the sweet, relieving taste is within her reach.

Elain kneels by the stream and dips her hands into the water, frowning at the lack of the cool sensation she’d expected.

She tries again—and again.

The water never appears in her cupped palms, evading her completely.

Elain frowns and steps in closer, her reflection meeting her atop the flowing surface.

A gasp rips free from her throat—yet another sound joining the humming melody, sharp and unexpected compared to all the others. It does not belong here—she does not belong here, there is no question left in her mind about that.

She doesn’t belong here because the face staring back at here is not that of Elain Archeron’s.

She blinks, a golden, mechanical eye whirring with the movement. Elain gasps again, strong, powerful hands reaching to touch her face—Lucien’s face, handsome but brutally scarred as it ripples through his golden-brown skin. His full lips part in shock, his russet eye glints, and his auburn brows shoot up—the face staring back at her is, undeniably, her estranged mate’s.

Elain’s—Lucien’s hands begin to shake.

What is going on? those lips move, yet the question remains unspoken firmly in her mind.

Elain rises to her feet, though her limbs act without her accordance—they possess a mind of their own, moving wherever that song carries them. Elain realises then she is merely a bystander—she is not here to change, to enact, but to watch,

She is a Seer, and this is a vision.

Lucien’s reflection in the river ripples again, and his face begins to shift—the scars seem to sink beneath his skin, not even a faint, thin line creasing his cheek anymore. His face is smooth, as it used to be—long before she’d ever met him.

When she blinks again, the eyes change, too—they are a matching pair of russet, now, and though Elain knows these are the eyes Lucien was born with, she can’t help but feel uneasy at the sight. In their brief meetings, few of them as there had been, she had grown somewhat used to that golden eye, watching her closely even from across the room. She liked the way it caught the sunlight.

She has to make peace with Lucien’s immaculate face now, though. He looks back at his reflection one last time as he finally straightens—and Elain catches his arched ears perk up slightly, as though they’d just registered some sound before it truly even began.

He doesn’t turn, though—but Elain feels a smirk tug at the corner of his lips as the feeling of yet another presence registers for her, too. It lands somewhere behind them with a quiet thud—as though it had just fallen from high up in the trees.

Lucien finally turns, and the intruder comes into view.

The beautiful female has ivy growing from her tan skin, its stem curling around her limbs in certain places—her wrists, her ankles, parts of her exposed collarbone. The leaves of rich, blooming green offset her eyes nicely—two pools of tarnished gold, and for some reason, Elain imagines it shifts into bronze under certain angles. Her chestnut hair is a sea of untamed curls, falling down her back in loose rings, some of them tangling between the ivy stems. The veins beneath her wrists appear to be crafted from ivy, too—as if it grew directly beneath her skin. 

Her curves are wrapped in a brown dress that hugs her in just the right places—she truly looks like a goddess of the woods, having descended from the high trees to bless the world with her beauty.

And yet, when she finally speaks, her words stir confusion in Elain’s mind.

“Hey, beautiful,” she says with a wink.

If she only could, Elain would blink—but instead, she hears herself groan, a deep, male sound that seems to rumble straight from her broad chest. “Please, Jesminda—I have a reputation.”

The female steps in closer.

“Ah, yes.” She smirks. “Lucien Vanserra, the cruel Autumn Prince, feared by all.”

For the first time since Elain met him, Lucien seems bashful. “Well—”

The female—Jesminda—huffs. “No well. You know you’re the only one in your family with some semblance of a heart.” She angles her head. “You and your mother, maybe.”

A wave of sadness surges through her, one that is not her own though she feels it in her chest anyway. “I really wish you could meet her,” Lucien says.

Jesminda shrugs, though it is not carelessness that lifts her shoulders—she makes it seem like Lucien’s hopes and dreams are inevitable, like his mother is standing right behind him, waving at her with a wide smile on her face. “Maybe I will, one day.” She grimaces as she adds, “When your awful father dies and you duel your brother for the throne.”

The Autumn song seems to stop at that—even the river coming to a halt.

Lucien stirs. “You shouldn’t say such things, Jesminda. Here, even the forest listens.”

But goddesses do not fear the forest, and so Jesminda winks. “Then it’s a good thing I have my cruel Autumn prince to protect me.”

—

Elain wakes up with a jolt.

She looks over her limbs first—long and lithe, that hardened muscle nowhere in sight. Her shoulders fall slightly as her gaze moves on to land on her nightgown—definitely her own, a lavender lace she’d picked out recently while Solstice shopping on the streets of Velaris.

She looks out of her bedroom window—for a Seer, she’s not particularly good at navigating the darkness, but she can make out the plush winter snow as it gently floats down from the midnight sky, draping itself eventually over the cobblestone.

It is definitely her own bed she’s sitting on, too, the sheets a pale shade of yellow she had also picked out a few days earlier. Her racing heart begins to slow its pace when she finally makes sure she had found her way back into reality. She is a Seer, but she is also Elain Archeron.

She is a mistake.

Anger surges through her at the memory—anger, confusion and hurt—but she squashes it down immediately, too fresh to revisit just yet. Instead, she focuses on what the Sight has just shown her—on the vivid colours of Autumn, the familiar face and body she’d stepped into, and the unfamiliar presence crafted from the woods and ivy. Her visions have never felt like this—they have always been draped by a fog, the sounds and colours muffled through a wall of mist. And yet this time, she could feel the autumn breeze caressing her skin—could hear the song of the forest as though it was played by her own heart. This was not a vision—and decidedly not a glimpse into the future, considering Lucien’s scarless face and him being present in Autumn at all.

No, Elain decides. This was no future.

She had been pulled into the past.

She can’t quite wrap her head around it as what had to have been Lucien’s memory replays itself over and over in her mind, a strange feeling of dread building in her chest. Elain allows it to consume her, too curious for her own good to back out now—there is nothing else waiting for her there, anyway—only that anger, confusion and pain.

A quiet knock on the door eventually stirs her from her thoughts—she isn’t entirely sure how long she has allowed her mind to race—but she guesses minutes as her sister appears in the doorway, her own robe falling loosely over her shoulders as she wipes the sleep from her blue-grey eyes with a hand.

“Everything okay?” Feyre asks her.

Elain frowns. “I’m…not sure. Why do you ask?”

Feyre hesitates, and the pause only makes that dread in her chest intensify like a whirring mill. “Lucien just left,” her sister finally says.

A quiet oh is Elain’s only acknowledgement. When the golden thread tied to her rib tugs in protest, she adds, “Was it not expected?”

Feyre’s expression looks strange. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Oh.”

Those piercing eyes are unreadable as Feyre asks, “You…wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?”

“No,” Elain’s response comes immediately and invites no further questions.

Feyre’s throat bobs slightly—as though fighting to keep back the words she so obviously wants to utter. Mercifully, she only says, “Okay. Sorry to wake you,” and begins to back away.

Before she can well and truly understand what she is doing, Elain stops her with a, “Wait.”

Feyre halts, her tattooed hand tight around the doorknob. “Yes?”

Elain looses a shaky breath. For some reason, she is certain the question will only be the beginning of her problems. “Who is Jesminda?”

Elucien Week Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @melting-houses-of-gold @areyoudreaminof @fieldofdaisiies @kingofsummer93 @witchlingsandwyverns @gracie-rosee @stickyelectrons @selesera @sv0430 @vulpes-fennec @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @screaming-opossum @autumndreaming7 @sunshinebingo @spell-cleavers @starfall-spirit @lectoradefics @this-is-rochelle @goldenmagnolias @labellefleur-sauvage @bookeater34 @capbuckyfalcon @betterthaneveryword @tasha2627 @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune

[archiveikemen]

Morganatic Idol Prologue: Chapter 2

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

A few days later…

Female Employee 1: Kawanaga-san, complete this data analysis!

Female Employee 2: Collate the results of this web survey into a table! I need it fast!

Female Employee 3: Do the data collection I need for my presentation! Hurry up!

Rina: On it!

Ever since the competition was announced, everyone at the office was more fired up than usual.

All the tasks assigned to me revolved around finding information on exe Creed.

(Everyone is desperately working on their project planning. I mustn't let myself lose to them.)

And yet, the amount of tasks constantly flowing in and piling up made it near impossible for me to work on mine.

(I need to get my project plan out one way or another…!)

…

On my day off, I went to the shopping district.

(If I can’t get anything done on a regular day, I’ll just have to work extra hard on my off days…!)

(exe Creed’s new song will be releasing today, and there's going to be a special MV broadcasted on the streets.)

(I hope that watching the MV will give me some ideas for the project.)

The broadcasting time for the MV was announced on the group’s SNS platforms.

As it got closer to the time, many young girls started gathering near the LED screen.

(Almost time…)

Everyone was waiting for the moment. And then… exe Creed appeared on the screen.

Girls: *fangirl screams*

(Wow, the cheering is incredible!)

The members danced and sang in a high quality video on the screen.

Young Lady 1: OMG! Isn’t the special edition MV the best!?

Young Lady 2: They’re SO cool! I’m glad I could catch the MV on the big screen!

The MV was certainly impressive, and everyone there was captivated by it and cheering with wild enthusiasm.

Rina: …

Thanks to the extensive research I had done on them lately, I knew in detail about the group’s discography, history, and members.

(With unrivalled glamour — Jace.)

(Drawing the attention of his audience with his wild dancing skills — Finn.)

(Dance moves as sharp as a precision instrument — Hugh.)

(The leader who brings each member’s individuality together in harmony — Ivy.)

(And… the member with an overwhelmingly powerful stage presence — Xeno.)

Rina: Amazing…

Their brilliance was mesmerising.

(I’m not very familiar with singing and dancing, nor did I know much about exe Creed before this.)

(Even so, I’m aware that there's something “special” about them. Their level of popularity is understandable. However…)

Many women around me were drawn by their performance on the screen and stopped walking to watch… and yet, something just felt off to me.

(What could it be? The visuals are flawless, their music and dance are impressive too… but something’s missing.)

Rina: I wonder what it is they're lacking…?

I continued watching their performance with intense concentration.

The camera zoomed in on Xeno, and his gaze turned towards it.

Rina: !

I instantly thought of something the moment my eyes caught his icy gaze.

(That’s IT! I must write down what I’m thinking of right now…!)

I pulled out a slip of paper and desperately jotted down my thoughts.

As though it were aiming for that “perfect timing”, there was a strong gust of wind.

Rina: Whoa…! Ah, my memo!

The slip of paper flew out of my hand and vanished in no time.

(Oh no…!)

It was too late for regrets. I gave up searching for it and wrote my ideas down on another slip of paper before turning to leave.

(I should get back as soon as possible. Before I forget about this feeling, I must put my plan together!)

— At the same time, a group of young men were standing a small distance from the LED screen and watching Rina’s movements.

??? (Jace): That girl’s facial expression while watching the MV was pretty intense.

??? (Finn): Doesn’t that show that she was captivated by our performance?

??? (Ivy): Hopefully, that’s the case. Anyway, the responses to the MV were better than expected. This promotional campaign was a success, right?

??? (Hugh): … There's a lot of people.

??? (Xeno): … Understood. I’m done observing the situation in front of the screen.

??? (Sakura): OK, let’s all get into the car then. We don’t have much time before your next schedule.

The rustling sound of paper came from underneath his shoe.

??? (Sakura): Hm? I stepped on something… a memo?

??? (Jace): Isn’t that the paper that girl from just now was writing on?

The man picked up the paper and read its contents… his eyes widened slightly.

??? (Sakura): …!

??? (Finn): What's up?

??? (Sakura): Nah, it's nothing. I thought I just saw something interesting. Fufufu.

??? (Ivy): ? I have no clue what's going on, but you seem quite happy…

[autumnalmess]

Unpopular opinion: does anyone else just fucking hate the 1985 original London recording of Les miserables or is it just me?? I'll give my propaganda reasoning below, give that a read first:

Okay, my reasoning:

OBVIOUSLY Colm Wilkinson is incredible. Not disputing that. So slightly remove that from the equation when I say I don't like this recording. Of course, a lot of the singers are really great (specifically Marius, Eponine, Cosette, jvj, fantine, Enjolras, loads of the Amis), and there are some songs that I like, but as a whole it feels really clunky.

In terms of timing, I know it was more of a concept album for England and they obviously changed a lot of bits afterwards, but in the recording it feels like all of the singers are very unsure of the timings. Whether this is because they actually were or because of artistic decisions to phrase things strangely, in the listening experience, it really comes across with an uncertain feel. Nothing seems to come in quite at the right time, and a lot of the singers will be just a couple of beats delayed in their coming in, which they may have been instructed to do by the musical director, but it feels strange all the same. And a lot of the singers play around with the timings so much that it feels at odds with the accompaniment.

Second, this is gonna be an insanely unpopular opinion, but I think Roger Allam in this specific recording (not commenting on his performance live) is a bit abysmal. He's an insanely talented actor and I love him in the thick of it, but here he does not show off his ability as a singer well at all. He speaks most of the lines, which is fine for some songs but feels awkward when he's really baring his soul in the soliloquy. Also his technique as a singer is really questionable. The way he holds his consonants completely restricts his vocals, giving it no vib and no room to grow especially on the big notes, it does not do justice to the build of the music. Furthermore, I feel he skims over the tops of the notes a lot, which really pisses me off because in a piece of music so carefully curated like Les miserables, every note is important to the flow and the harmony. This is not to slag him off. I'm sure he was good in performance, but I feel this specific recording does not reflect that.

Musically, they don't go ham with the drums enough. If you want to understand what I mean, just listen to the french version. Also, the music in this version, again, feels a little uncertain. Like there are points where a couple of instruments are playing a melody, and theres a countermelody that doesn't really sound like it fits. And you know it just needs a third harmony to bring it all together. It's just little things that make it sound less refined as a whole. (Side note but this pisses me off: a lot of the time the songs are a lot slower in tempo than all the other recordings and it just feels like it lacks energy a bit)

Propaganda time: The main reason I don't like this one is because it's not as good as the french version, which feels consistently refined and energised and raw. The emotion comes through from all of the singers so much more, without losing track of the notes or the rhythms. All the singers have wonderful technique, specifically jvj and Javert, which makes their songs so much more powerful. Just listen to Comment faire? (Same as Who am I) and youll get what I mean about the drums and the countermelodies. Also they have some baller theme and variation in that song which really brings out the music student in me.

Conclusion: I'm absolutely so sorry if I've just ripped apart your favourite recording. Do feel free to ignore everything I've just said because most of these are just like teeny tiny little things that annoy me specifically. And I'm sure most of this is just because I've spent too much time listening to the french version that now I turn my nose up at perfectly respectable other versions. If you love this one, you're valid. And I do listen to some of the songs on it. I love their little fall of rain and finale. I just can't stand roger allam's soliloquy or stars.

[somnas-writes]

The music student in my mind goes crazy when I think of what the themes for MCD characters could be

I always think about this and it’s been taking over my brain. So here themes I envision for the MCD characters

Laurence

His theme would be a tragedy. Something that foreshadows and hints to the pain that awaits him. Theres a low hum of bass and horns, slowly growing until it overwhelms the accompaniment. Reflecting his suppressed shadow knight abilities, the instincts that wail louder each day.

There’s a recurring chord progression played on a piano, a soft hopeful sound. It shines through the menacing bass, his humanity prevailing against the odds.

Eventually though, The bass and horns win out. but that chord always sings quietly.

Garroth

His theme is quieter than anyone else’s. He hides who he is, so his theme hides aswell.

Woodwinds carry the melody, a quiet and gentle song that speaks to who he is. Garroth puts other before himself, but he’s selfish in a twisted way. He protects his identity and heart by burying it deep.

The melody would fade when he looses himself. Brass takes over the melody, it’s pitch is lowered and blends into the accompanying instruments.

It prevails in the end, Strings and Woodwinds playing together in harmony as he finally accepts who he is.

Aphmau

Her and Irene have complimentary themes. Irene’s is haunted by an organ and twinkling music box. It’s hollow, she feels nothing so her sound lacks life.

Aphmaus is lively, The themes is played by a piano and violin, hopeful and strong. It ebbs and flows naturally, like the wind or ocean waves.

Her theme dims when she is losing her will. Her determination is the driving force behind everything she does, when she loses motivation the music becomes distorted.

The distortion mimics Irene’s theme. the hollow organ and haunting music box invading and playing alongside the Violin and Piano.

Eventually they blend together, Irene’s theme becomes complete and regains its energy. Because Aphmau and Irene are meant to meld together, two incomplete halves become whole.