#the freedom orchestra
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Bobby Beausoleil - Lucifer Rising OST LP
RIP Kenneth Anger
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i am not immune to that part in ‘enter the darkness’ when the choir comes in singing sora’s theme
#referring to both the kh3 version and the live orchestra version#kingdom hearts#kh#sora#vanitas#fr i start floating in midair#sora is the light… he’s the light vanitas is reaching towards…#ironically bc ventus is vanitas’s other half + the pure light guy#but that’s precisely why he’s inaccessible to vanitas#they are different people now they can’t become one again#that and the fact that y’know. the atrocities;;; ven doesn’t want to reconcile with vanitas#vani’s best shot at salvation and freedom is through sora… who understands darkness… who can maybe understand vani more than anyone else…#mine: kh
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absolutely being overtired and horrendously emotional about this video purely for the moment around 1:15ish where Ze hears the first couple of notes, realises it's the Ukraine national anthem and his hand goes directly to his heart.
#for fame and freedom march with you and right is on your side#volodymyr zelenskyy#he seems a bit tired / emotional in this one too bless him#(him just singing it quietly alone unheard beneath the orchestra has made me cry again x)#think this is from about 6 months or so ago
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please do give a listen to the ukrainian freedom orchestra's proms concert on bbc sounds. wow. link in the first reply.
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自由な音楽
監督から学んだことは、自由の大切さです。「自由」ってこういうことかと、心と体を通して知りました。スキルや頭で論理的に考えるだけでなく、心が一番大事だということ。まわりの人、向き合う人を大切に思える大人になれたらいいなと思います。
2024/03/14 朝日新聞（聞き手・山内深紗子）
坂本龍一が遺したもの
畠山茜さんが語る
被災地へ大きな愛と自由な音楽
寄り添う心、オーケストラで奏でる
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youtube
Reblog if you do think this is the best Star Wars song ever made :D
If not, prove me wrong and share your best here in comments!
You know where to share a lot more of content about Star Wars universe and an awesome game developed in 2003 called Jedi Knight Jedi Academy? Well, you're lucky and I will tell you the secret...
JOIN THE BIGGEST JK3 FAM TODAY!
#jofa#jofacademy#jedi of freedom#jedioffreedom#jedi#sith#duel of the fates#star wars#jk3#soundtrack#epic#orchestra#Youtube
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"freedom (freedom)
freedom (freedom)
FREEDOM
YEAH, FREEDOM!"
"you better think (think!)"
another jd drawing i did with mcsquizzy as think!! i worked real hard on the background for this drawing!! it felt kinda cumbersome but it was worth it XD
hope u like it!!!
all rights belong to sony pictures animation and ubisoft
#think#aretha franklin#london theatre orchestra and cast#just dance 3#just dance#ubisoft#mcsquizzy#open season#sony pictures animation#squirrel#femboy#crossdresser#billy connolly#freedom
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Ukrainian Freedom Orchestra tour kicks off in Warsaw | Music | DW
Ukrainian Freedom Orchestra tour kicks off in Warsaw | Music | DW
The Ukrainian Freedom Orchestra was founded in solidarity with the victims of the war in Ukraine.
Lead conductor Keri-Lynn Wilson told the world in a Youtube video earlier this year that she decided to turn the horror she felt “at the invasion of Ukraine into action, uniting Ukrainian musicians into an artistic force to help in the fight for their freedom as a nation.”
They are joining together…
View On WordPress
#Bayreuth Festival#Met#Oksana Lyniv#Opera#Russian invasion of Ukraine#ukraine war#Ukrainian Freedom Orchestra#Youth Orchestra of Ukraine
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Now in Technicolor
Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss x Reader Insert
“Tune in folks! demons and damned souls, welcome back to the sultry airwaves of Hell's very own station. I must say, dear listeners, Hell has a certain charm, doesn't it? A cacophony of screams, the crackle of flames, and the subtle whispers of secrets that linger in the shadows. It's a splendid orchestra of despair, and I am here to be your guide through the infernal playlist”
You expected the man to be insane but you didn't expect him to be so unshameful.
“So, grab a pitchfork, kick back, and let the music of the damned serenade your darkened souls! Now let's talk about my latest massacre-”
As of the moment you're not actually with him. Though him doing his broadcast that reigns in all of hell almost feels like he's still beside you all along. As your point of freedom away from your family you decided it was best to get to know hell from the very people that walked the streets.
Since he began taking you under his wing, you decided to stay with him till you find your place to settle down.
You were an early riser so the radio was not really a bother. The weird universal agreement to decide night and day here is such a fascination to you. Nevertheless being hell meant there was never a time without someone awake causing chaos. The game plan of working your way up the charts is what your dad always said while growing up, "Don't take shit from other demons”. Starting with that is to gain a more hopeful advantage in knowing the people.
“Watch this!” a really grimy voice screamed out. Looking that way you could see a few imps running around gathering people's attention.
One taller than the average imp stood with horns adorned in flickering embers, cackling with glee as he addressed his chaotic minions. "Listen up, you fiendish crap! I think it's time to start a new and take back what should be rightfully ours”
In the heart of pentagram city, the joy that you get from seeing the disaster is always so fulfilling. You may be new to these parts but boy does it give you a rush.
A sleek abyssal demon slinked through the crowd, leaving a trail of illusions in its wake. The demon could not only morph into various grotesque forms but the path that it was leaving behind was startling and amusing onlookers. As it danced between the dimensions of reality and illusion, confused demons stumbled into each other, inadvertently causing a chain reaction of minor skirmishes and squabbles. But what you didn't expect was for him to come up to you.
“They do this every week, by now it should get through their heads no one is going to listen” His voice was deep. It was such a buttery kind of smooth.
“I don't know there seems to be a crowd starting” with a smile you look up at him to see an amused look on his face.
The scene in front of you did intrigue you a lot. The bottom of the food chain in hell trying to make a voice for themselves. Their treatment is a peculiar mix of disdain and indifference. Larger demons may kick an imp out of the way without a second thought or summon them with a snap of their fingers for trivial purposes. Imps are often subjected to the capricious whims of their more powerful counterparts, enduring cruel pranks and occasional bouts of aggression.
Though you never thought that, though treated as the lowest rung of the demonic hierarchy, imps often find themselves at the mercy of their more powerful counterparts. They serve as the labor force, taking on a myriad of roles and responsibilities that range from menial tasks to dangerous assignments. Whether it's cleaning the twisted architecture of demonic structures or scurrying about as messengers delivering missives between the higher-ups, imps are ubiquitous fixtures in the daily hustle of Hell
“The pride ring is the top show in these parts and what do we get?! We get booted to the side and have to deal with the hypocrisy of these stupid standards!!” Those who spoke up before started chanting about rights for imps.
Certainly something that you would stand behind. Maybe it's a closed minded thought process but what was the point of souls from earth having more respect than the ones from here?
The heartbreaking sight was to see them run out. Demons of all kinds were starting to riot against them. In the face of adversity, the mischievous imps vowed to continue their antics, proving that even the smallest creatures could leave an indelible mark on the tumultuous canvas of Hell The Hellraisers disappear into the chaotic crowd, leaving a trail of bewildered demons and a street strewn with toppled stalls. with mayhem reigning supreme in the darkened streets.
“It's stupid and kinda sad to watch” The man stood beside you huffing out.
“Aren't you a hypocrite, you're an earthborn yourself aren't you?” the ego that these people have never stops amazing you everyday.
“Yeah… just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm set in stone as a bad person… Though looking at you, I'd guess you're like myself but you look almost a little too perfect for a human” crossing his arms he looked at you.
“That's because im-! You know who you are anyways dickbag” This guy was seriously putting you off. Comparing you to whatever those disappointments are.
“Pump the hate breaks… I'm Walter by the way.. Since you asked." The cadence of his voice was so politician based that it could lead you to go insane.
As the chaos unfolded around you, Walter's nonchalant demeanor seemed to contrast sharply with the tumultuous scene. The imps' attempts to rally for their rights had escalated into a full-blown street brawl, with demons of varying sizes and shapes joining the fray. The air resonated with shouts, roars, and the occasional yelp from an imp caught in the crossfire.
"Quite the spectacle they're putting on, isn't it?" Walter questions raising an eyebrow
You observed the chaos with a mix of fascination and concern. The imps were outnumbered and outmatched, yet their resilience and determination to stand up against the status quo intrigued you.
"Yeah, it is," you replied, eyes still fixed on the scene. "Seems like they're fed up with being pushed around."
Walter chuckled, a dry sound that echoed through the cacophony. "Oh, they've been trying to make a statement for ages. It's almost cute."
"Cute?" You shot him a disapproving look. "They're fighting for their rights. It's not cute; it's necessary."
Walter's gaze lingered on you for a moment before he shrugged, unimpressed. "Necessary, maybe. But in Hell, it's a matter of survival. Those little imps are just making noise in a world that won't listen."
The riot continued to escalate, with fiery projectiles, illusions, and general pandemonium swirling around. Amidst the chaos, a trio of larger demons emerged, their expressions twisted into malicious grins.
"Looks like the big guns are stepping in. This is where it gets interesting." you said while stepping back to not get caught in the crossfire. Values and morals aside, sometimes seeing stuff play out is widely more interesting than anything else. Fuck you sounded sadistic.
The trio of demons seemed to relish the opportunity to quash the imp uprising. With a wave of their hands, they conjured dark energy, sending shockwaves through the crowd of imps. You could see the smaller demons being tossed aside like ragdolls, their attempts at resistance quickly crushed.
You felt a surge of empathy for the imps, caught in a cycle of oppression and rebellion. However, Walter's detached demeanor left you conflicted. Was he merely observing the chaos, or did he revel in the anarchy that unfolded before him?
Leaning into you his dark haze felt almost suffocating. "Well, darling, what do you think? Will the imps triumph or become another forgotten footnote in Hell's sordid history?"
The question lingered in the air, emphasizing the harsh reality of Hell's hierarchy. The imps' plight seemed both desperate and valiant, a stark reminder that even in Hell, some fought for a semblance of dignity and recognition.
“Whatever, if this is just a game to you, I hope your luck runs out” you remark before heading out of the city center. Being around him made you miss the annoying voice of alastor.
Walking away from him was the easiest thing that you could do. His attempt to engage you in conversation, using terms like "darling" with a sly smile, only added to your growing irritation. It felt like he was mocking not only the imps but also your own principles and values.
The crimson glow of dawn began to seep through the curtains of Alastor's luxurious suite of his radio booth, signaling the end of another night's radio broadcast. The room, adorned with vintage furnishings and an air of refined chaos, bore witness to the aftermath of Alastor's nocturnal endeavors.
reclined in an opulent armchair, a contented smirk playing on his lips. The room still echoed with the faint whispers of his charismatic voice, which had reached every corner of Hell during the broadcast. The radio equipment, adorned with dials and adorned in a distinct retro aesthetic, hummed softly, now temporarily dormant.
Alastor found his thoughts occasionally drifting to the enigmatic (Y/n). a peculiar newcomer to Hell or at least to what he thinks. had managed to capture the attention of the radio demon in a way that he couldn't quite dismiss. The glimmers of defiance in (Y/n)'s gaze during their encounters had not gone unnoticed. Alastor, who revealed in the unexpected and the unconventional, found a peculiar satisfaction in the mystery that surrounded them. In Hell, where familiarity often bred contempt, the unknown was a rare and exhilarating novelty.
As the first rays of dawn bathed the room in a warm glow, Alastor's posture shifted. He rose from the chair, his movements graceful and deliberate. Despite the seemingly chaotic nature of his radio persona, there was an undeniable elegance to his every action.
Alastor pondered the significance of this newcomer's journey through the infernal landscape. Why could he feel such raw power? Though why is it that he is reminded of himself when thinking about them.
Walking over to a nearby table, Alastor poured himself a cup of tea. The delicate porcelain clinked softly against the saucer as he sipped the hot beverage. The tranquility of the moment contrasted with the lively chaos he had orchestrated just hours ago.
Thinking back to last night, With a casual flick of his wrist, when he summoned ethereal tendrils that danced like shadows in the night. These spectral appendages slithered through the air, reaching out to the trembling souls and ensnaring them in a web of malevolent energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp under his influence, distorting the surroundings into a nightmarish landscape.
Alastor's mind, ever calculating, reflected on the success of the night's broadcast. The intertwining melodies of jazz and hellish commentary had woven a tapestry of entertainment, capturing the attention of listeners from the lowliest imps to the loftiest demons. The echoes of laughter and applause lingered in his mind like a symphony of souls.
As the jazz tunes from a nearby record player filled the air, Alastor reclined in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips. The prospect of weaving the reader into the ongoing narrative of Hell sparked a mischievous glint in his eyes. (Y/n), in their apparent defiance of the expected norms, had become a wild card in the devil's deck of amusement.
Getting up to Leisurely strolling through the lavish suite, Alastor glanced at a vintage record player. He selected a vinyl record, the soothing crackle of the needle finding its groove as the melodic tunes of an old jazz number filled the room. The music, a stark departure from the energetic chaos of his radio show, created an ambiance of refined tranquility.
From below his window he sees these peculiar picture shows from down below.
"My, my, attempting to disturb the delicate balance of my little corner of Hell? How utterly quaint.”
“Hey! I'm back! Damn, is it a lively scene out there,” you call out as you stride into your shared living space.
Alastor, reclining on a vintage armchair, smirks in response. "Ah, my dear (Y/n), chaos is the very essence of this delightful realm. One must learn to appreciate the symphony of suffering that plays around us."
"Yeah, well, it's just something that I'll make work in my hand,” you reply, taking a moment to glance around the eclectic decor of your hellish abode.
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Alastor stands up abruptly. "I know you just got back, but we are going out!" His enthusiasm is palpable, and you can tell he has something interesting in mind.
“Wait, I think I had my share—” you try to speak out before being abruptly grabbed by the arm.
“Come on, my dear!” In a flash, you find yourself whisked out of the apartment, leaving behind the familiar surroundings for whatever adventure Alastor has in store.
"Alastor, where are we even going?" you asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. His usual grin widened, revealing a hint of mischief.
"Patience, my dear (Y/n). I have something intriguing to show you," Alastor replied, his voice carrying an air of secrecy.
He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "I thought it would be delightful to pay a visit to our esteemed TV demon. After all, shouldn't we take a look at all kinds of media?"
Before you could voice your reservations, Alastor pushed open the doors of the Vox Network headquarters, leading you into the opulent reception area. The robotic sentinels stood guard, and Vox's voice echoed through the room.
"Ah, Alastor! A pleasure to have you in the building! , What a delightful surprise," a booming voice echoed from the center of the room. Vox, the flamboyant TV demon, materialized in a cloud of static. His slick, metallic appearance glowed in an array of colors, and his screen-like face displayed a perpetually changing expression. his screen displaying a charismatic smile.
Vox extended a hand towards Alastor. the radio demon simply walked past to which earned a small glitch seen at the corner of his screen.
“Seems you've brought a pet?” The fact that no one knew who you were was starting to get on your nerves. Calling you a pet? Well that's something that will make you riot.
In the face of Vox's condescending remark, you felt a spark of irritation flicker within you. Alastor's dismissal of the TV demon's extended hand had left a peculiar glitch on Vox's screen, a subtle indication that the flamboyant host wasn't accustomed to being ignored.
"No one's anyone's pet," you retorted, asserting yourself in the opulent reception area. The robotic sentinels glanced in your direction, their mechanical eyes narrowing as if registering an unexpected anomaly.
Vox's screen shifted to an intrigued expression, the colors dancing in an erratic display. "Ah, a voice from the shadows! I must confess, I wasn't aware we had a new player in this delightful game."
Alastor, leaning against a holographic display, observed the unfolding interaction with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "She's no pet, Vox. Just someone with a taste for chaos and curiosity about your little empire."
Vox chuckled, the sound reverberating through the sleek surroundings. "Chaos and curiosity, my favorite combination! How intriguing! So, (Y/n), what brings you into our glamorous world today?"
You crossed your arms, a defiant gleam in your eyes. "I'm not here to be entertained or become anyone's spectacle if thats what youre thinking.”
Alastor stepped in “We just thought we'd see what all the fuss is about."
Vox's screen displayed a mix of amusement and curiosity. "A renegade spirit, I like it! But you're in the presence of yours truly and We don't do small things here. Let's skip the foreplay and get into it. How about a little deal? I'll make you an offer you can't refuse."
You eyed Vox skeptically, wary of the gleam in his screen. Alastor, seemingly unfazed, glanced at you with a sly grin. "Go on, (Y/n), entertain his offer. He has no power or specialty. We might find something amusing in his little game."
“Ok first fuck you alastor and no way in the seven rings would I join you I wouldnt join anyone” The prospect of dealing with Vox made your skin crawl, but the allure of navigating Hell's media empire intrigued you.
Vox's screen flickered with a mix of surprise and subtle annoyance as you firmly rejected his proposition. The colors on his metallic visage swirled in a display of shifting hues, mirroring the complex emotions running through the TV demon's circuits.
"Well, well, aren't you a feisty one, Are you sure about not joining anyone? You seem like a loyal dog to that freak" Vox mused
Your resolve remains unshaken, and you meet Vox's screen with a defiant gaze. "I don't need your offers, Vox. I'll find my own way through Hell's chaos."
Vox's laughter echoed through the opulent reception area, a mix of genuine amusement and an underlying sense of challenge. "Very well, (Y/n). Should you change your mind or seek a taste of the limelight, you know where to find me.”
What a bitch… At this point you were at your limit so you walked out to the side of the room to not entertain this conversation. The fucking nerve of these people. Even Alastor was being a little bit of a shit at the moment.
“There's a certain allure to the unknown, wouldn't you say?" Vox pondered aloud, his screen displaying a charismatic smile.
Alastor, still leaning against the holographic display, turned to you with a smirk. "Well done, my dear.”
Alastor's antlers grew as he stood before Vox, his crimson eyes piercing
"Ah, Vox, my dear fellow," Alastor began, his voice carrying a melodic tone laced with a subtle threat. "I hope you enjoyed the rejection dance my little friend here performed. Now, let's get one thing clear – I don't dance to anyone's tune, especially not yours. You might be the new shiny toy right now but people always come back to the original"
Vox's screen glitched momentarily, revealing a flicker of irritation.
"What's the meaning of this, Alastor?" Vox demanded, his voice losing some of its usual charisma and taking on a sharper edge. "You come here and start bitching at me about not joining me?! We've already established that”
“You underestimate the consequences of refusing me, Alastor," Vox hissed, his voice losing its previous charm entirely. "This will be my realm to control, and those who reject my advances often find themselves in a far less favorable position."
Alastor chuckled, the sound echoing in the extravagant reception area. "Consequences, Vox? I've faced worse in my time. Your attempts to control the narrative may work on the masses, but not on someone who knows the art of chaos."
As Alastor turned to leave, Vox seethed with frustration. The TV demon couldn't fathom being denied, and Alastor's rejection left a lingering tension in the air. Vox's screen displayed an animated storm of chaotic colors.
A surge of annoyance swept over you. Alastor's encouragement of Vox and his apparent amusement at the situation grated on the reader's nerves. The reader couldn't fathom why he enabled the TV demon's actions especially considering the TV demon's manipulative and self-serving nature. To make matters worse it really felt like he was making fun of you.
“Fuck off Alastor”
"(Y/n), this is Hell, and power here is earned through deals and influence. If you want to make your mark, you have to start making deals," Alastor advised in a tone that was both casual and instructional. His words resonated with a hint of amusement, as if he relished the idea of the reader navigating the treacherous landscape of Hell.
“I'm not some social experiment, why are you still here?” however, was taken aback by Alastor's nonchalant attitude toward the situation. The idea of making deals in exchange for souls seemed like a slippery slope, and the reader wasn't sure if they were ready to embrace such a cutthroat approach
“Embrace it, and you'll see just how intoxicating the taste of power can be." he replied
If they were to survive and thrive in Hell, understanding the art of making deals was a necessary skill. With a determined nod, they acknowledged Alastor's guidance.
"Alright, Alastor. Teach me the ropes. I might as well learn how to play this game if I'm going to survive in Hell," the reader conceded, a resolute glint in their eyes.
“Im staying with you, but if you even think about being an ass while other people are around you're going to be counting your last minutes”
“Doll, if you can barely stand up for yourself, I don't think I have anything to worry about,” he laughed out.
He's seriously pushing your buttons right now.
“As an overlord, you have dominion over a specific territory or domain within Hell. This grants you considerable authority and control over the demons and souls, you want that right? Power?” he asked.
All of a sudden you heard a loud bash of commotion coming from a group of demons that appeared to be fighting.
Pushing through the crowd, they discovered a group of demons surrounding none other than Walter.
One of the larger demons, a hulking figure with horns resembling twisted spires, look with disdain. "This fool thinks he can waltz into our territory and act like he owns the place."
Walter, bloodied but defiant, attempted to maintain his composure. "Now, now, gentlemen, there's no need for such hostility. Let's talk this out civilly."
The demons surrounding Walter scoffed at his attempts at diplomacy, clearly unimpressed. The reader couldn't help but feel a surge of annoyance at Walter's earlier arrogance.
"Perhaps, my dear (Y/n), we should let this play out. It's always entertaining to witness the ebb and flow of power dynamics in Hell," Alastor mused, his eyes glinting with a sinister delight.
"Come on! Do something about this!!, you can't just stand there and watch!" Walter's voice cracked with a mixture of pain and panic as he pleaded for help.
"My, my, Walter, seems like you've landed yourself in quite a bind. Who would have thought our charismatic friend would face such a predicament?" you said out loud
“please! I'm not cut out for this kind of roughing up!" Walter's words were desperate, his eyes pleading for intervention. The demons surrounding him laughed, reveling in his vulnerability
“Oh please you were such a bigshot earlier, get yourself out of this mess”
ignoring the demons' taunts, you whispered out a proposal which the smoked and leaned in closer to Walter and whispered the terms of the deal. The specifics echoed in the demonic air, forming an unspoken pact that hung heavy in the atmosphere.
"Deal," Walter agreed, relief washing over him as the terms were settled. The demons, though momentarily confused, soon found themselves turned to dust.
Alastor observed the scene with a raised brow, intrigued by the sudden turn of events. The reader's willingness to strike a deal for Walter's soul added a new layer of complexity
Looking back up to him and smiled, “is this what you wanted?”
As Alastor continued to observe the chaotic scene unfolding before him, a smirk played on his lips. The demons surrounding Walter, still reveling in the prospect of his impending downfall, were oblivious to the subtle yet profound shift in the power dynamics.
"Well, well, it seems you've decided to make a deal. How delightful!" Alastor chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. The atmosphere shifted, charged with an unspoken agreement between you and Walter.
“Now, now, gentlemen, let's not keep our eager audience waiting. After all, this is shaping up to be quite the dramatic performance,” Alastor commented looking at the rest of the demons that just fell dead, staring at the corpses with a dark amusement lacing his words. He leaned casually against a nearby demonic structure, his radio-like grin widening.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#helluva boss#helluva boss x reader#alastor x reader#stolas x reader#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox#helluva asmodeus#stolas helluva boss#helluva blitzo#helluva boss season 2#fizzarolli x reader#blitzo x reader#reader insert#angeldust x reader#niffty#husk x reader#hazbin husker#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lilith#asmodeus x reader#hazbin charlie#hazbin vox#valentino#velvet hazbin hotel#alastor x vox#helluva stolas#stolas#blitzo
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Imagine:
A ruthless killer shows mercy. (For my best friend❣️)
Tw: blood, pain, chase, gn reader, use of “you”
Could it get any fucking worse?
This was the 4th time in a row that the entity had chosen you as a victim of the trials. The 4th goddamn time. And for the 4th time, you had shocked yourself in the wires of the generator. A quick jolt shot through the bone of your finger, causing you to flinch and gasp, more in surprise than in pain. You sighed, wiping the sweat from your brow. You weren't a mechanic before all this shit started, yet somehow you knew how to get these things running with little thought or recollection of learning prior. As soon as you knelt down by the still and cold hunk of metal, it was like working on autopilot. Several clicks and huffs before the machine began pumping in succession, whirring to life with one last pull of a lever. The light above ignited, illuminating the once dark and eerie area, signaling one step closer to an escape.
You rose to your feet, dusting the dirt from your ruined jeans. Odd, it was unusually quiet, and the peace was becoming unsettling. It couldn’t have been someone like Ghost Face or Myers, you would have felt the hairs on your neck bristle by this point. Yet if it was someone like the Huntress, you’d hear her hums from miles away. So, why was it so..silent?
You didn’t run, instead creeping with featherlight steps towards the next generator. You could see the top of the light peeking over a wooden wall, but you were too scared to bolt for it. Better to play it safe, incase it really was a stealth killer, and the lack of sleep dulling your ability to sense their eyes on you.
After a few careful steps, you made it to the wall, peeking around to reveal the generator. This was the last one, the last barrier between you, and the gate to freedom. You could practically feel the adrenaline coursing through you at the sight of it. You sighed in relief, taking one step towards it before crying out in pain. Your leg had caught in several strands of bloody barbed wire, your foot sinking and squelching in a bulging red substance. You began to panic, struggling against the hold the barbed wire had on your calf. The more you struggled, the tighter it felt, the sharp tips digging deeper into your skin.
You could hear it now, the loud orchestra of a thundering heartbeat, the sound deafening you from every direction. The only sound breaking through, was the heavy breathing approaching rapidly, and the grinding metallic echo of a massive knife. You winced and wreathed, the wire drawing blood. You watched as it trickled down, joining the bubbling red liquid beneath you.
Run, you screamed into your head. Finally, you managed to free yourself from the coils keeping you in place. Thump, your heart was hammering against your ribcage. Thump, the rhythm matching the stomps of your feet against the dirt, your legs carrying you away from the killer. Thump thump, every time you think you’ve gained distance, he’s quick to close it with each stride. You could see him picking up speed, this chase was nothing to him. You were a goner, with no where to hide and no where to run. And you were right to think so. One second you were running as fast as you could, and the next you were face first in the dirt, your body colliding harshly with the cold ground. You had been too busy looking behind you to notice the trail of torment drawn in your path. You pay the price now, tangled in the stinging barbs of your mistake.
He approached, slowly. You could hear his growls and breaths echoing off the walls of his chamber like head. With each step closer, each inch towards death, your heart deafened you with terror. You had no choice, no way to fight back. So you accepted it, closing your eyes to await the burning sensation of a fatal slash. To your surprise, it never came.
It had become silent once again, even his growls had calmed to an extent. Your eyes fluttered open, being met with his towering figure gazing down on you. He didn’t speak, or make a move, just simply watched. It was unsettling, terrifying even, to see him stand so still. If only you could read minds, was he going to kill you? What did he want? A scream had broken you from your thoughts, sounding from somewhere behind you. On instinct, you craned your neck to look in the direction you heard it, hoping to see a teammate coming to your rescue, only to see nothing in particular. With a heavy huff, you turned back to meet empty space where the executioner once stood. You stared off to where you presumed he had gone, a perplexed look in your eyes at the mercy shown from a killer.
#dead by daylight#dead by deadlight#dbd killer#dbd survivor#dbd#dbd ghostface#dbd x reader#dbd pyramid head#dbd fanfic#dbd fandom#pyramid head#dead by daylight fanfic#dead by daylight x reader#dbd x you#gn reader#dbd pyramid head x reader#pyramid head x reader#pyramid head x you
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Bobby Beausoleil (Usa, 1980) - Lucifer Rising (Full Album)
RIP Kenneth Anger
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Cherry Wine.
Yan Chrollo x F Reader.
Synopsis: It is your last day of actual freedom, and Chrollo intends to have it end with a mix of your design and his own. Everything is perfectly set. All he has to do now is wait for you to come into the web.
Warnings: Yandere themes, a wild Feitan appears, stalking, drugging/restraining (chloroform/handcuffs), and kidnapping.
Word Count: 1k.
*~*~*~*
A familiar jingle accompanies the turntable’s rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers. It is your keychain, moving with your key as you unlock your apartment door, moving as your feet shuffle on your doormat to get rid of the dirt the soles had acquired from walking. The sounds of tired sighs, your headphones being placed beside the rack where your jackets and umbrellas and shoes are placed. Chrollo knows all of these melodies by heart because those notes make up the beautiful orchestra that is you.
He hears the little creaking noise of the door closing, along with the lock being turned, sealing your fate. A small sound of the closet you keep near the entrance, which holds your bags and fancier footwear like high heels. Chrollo respected the silent rule of never wearing shoes inside, something that is out of character for him whenever he breaks into other peoples’ homes, and had placed his own black loafers behind that one expensive purse you only used one time for a presentation you had to make for your professors and peers.
He had Shalnark record the entire thing and has rewatched it multiple times, each one seeming better than the last.
Everything about you, from how you walked, how you were so expressive with your facial expressions, how you seemed to be able to befriend anyone, everything about you felt like it came from another world. Or perhaps he is the one who came from another world, metaphorically? Chrollo chuckles at the thought. It would make sense, really, Meteor City felt like another world, that is for certain.
One of your cats meows loudly, the larger but older one from the way the meow was scratchy like nails on a blackboard, most likely being right next to you. He is distressed, perhaps. Chrollo is an unwanted visitor, after all, and despite being more of a cat person, he had to deal with your cats more than your dog, oddly enough. While your dog cowered and hid under the table, whining like she had been reduced to that of the small puppy she was when you first adopted her, your cats teamed up to attempt to scratch his eyes out whenever they jumped on the kitchen table or couch, hissing and possibly screaming bloody murder. Somewhere deep within Chrollo’s heart, it hurts a bit.
He knows that because of your naivety, you will just pet the cat, take off your coat, and your boots, and go upstairs, where your dining table has been set by Chrollo. It’s a welcome gift, in Chrollo’s opinion, but also perhaps an apology one as well.
As soon as you walk into the kitchen, your fate is as doomed as a little fly caught in a spider’s web.
“Come on,” You grumble. “Already? Geez. I just got that bag too…” Are you talking to your cat? “What the hell? I know you have stomach problems but… gosh.”
Ah. Do you plan on switching out the brand of cat food again?
“I guess that’s my own fault though for getting a cat I knew has digestive issues, huh? I can’t be mad at you. You’re almost the same age as me and… that’s a lot in cat years.” Chrollo hears the sound of a yawn as he presumes you are stretching. You must be tired, you have been on your feet all day today helping out your peers with their assignments, as usual. “It’s just now I have to clean up all this puke… argh.”
Should I speed things along?
A text message from Feitan, who has been outside your apartment door, though you didn’t see him, unsurprisingly. He is most likely getting annoyed, from the tone of the writing, because Feitan can be doing much more important things for the Troupe instead of helping you “settle in” as Chrollo put it.
That won’t be necessary. Trust me. Everything is going as planned so far, even if this is a minor setback.
The reason why Chrollo didn’t choose someone like Phinks or Nobunaga to help him with this task is because Feitan is the most silent. He can easily imagine the other two scaring you away accidentally if they accidentally lose their cover.
The table is set, with flowers and books and other things you love. All he has to do is wait.
You should have just brought Machi.
Chrollo sighs at that, just barely audible. But he knows Feitan is nothing but loyal to him, so he knows that he will not try anything that he does not like.
Machi is busy shopping with Paku and Shizuku for the other things I need for [First], it would be rude to ruin their own task, Fei.
With that, Chrollo’s message is left on read.
Everything is going according to plan, and Feitan will not ruin it, even if he had wanted to.
All that is left is to wait. You’ll come on your own.
Feitan is only here if you attempt to run afterward, after you see your gifts, after all.
He hears footsteps, coming up the stairs, at long last.
One.
Two.
A large meal is placed on the side of the table that has an empty chair. Chrollo sits across, smiling. Plates and bowls filled with things that are sweet, savory, and everything else in between. They are all your favorites, Chrollo double-checked with Shalnark before he had left. Other items are placed on the table as well, like that jewelry set you were eyeing last week but unfortunately was too expensive for you. You were trying to limit how much you spend, a good habit to build surely. It is a shame you will never get to use that skill, though. Unless Chrollo gives you an allowance each week based on how well you behave, an entertaining concept in his opinion, but if it ever becomes reality it will have to wait a few weeks at the very least.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Chrollo also had Feitan carry handcuffs, in case the chloroform does not work as it was intended to.
But that is after you two talk, it would be rude to not introduce himself and show off everything he has bought for you.
Seven.
#aya abstractions#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere hunter x hunter#yandere hxh#yandere chrollo#yandere chrollo x reader#yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader#yandere chrollo lucilfer#yandere hunter x hunter x reader#yandere hxh x reader#chrollo x reader#chrollo lucilfer x reader#hxh x reader#hunter x hunter x reader
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Augh fuck ok so, I was just listening to Want You Gone and I realized something. There’s a very real possibility that GLaDOS isn’t in denial about liking Chell and caring about her and her act of sending Chell away could be out of that very care.
So throughout the song GLaDOS does say stuff like “go make some new disaster, you’re someone else’s problem now” and of course “now I only want you gone” and all this time we’ve been quite logically reading “I used to want you dead but now I only want you gone” as an “I don’t hate you as much anymore and killing you is basically impossible and you cause too much trouble for me to try anymore” but… GLaDOS still pulls back Chell at the end of Portal 2. She doesn’t let Chell die. Sure we can say that that was Caroline because the facility deletes Caroline later, but in the ending song GLaDOS says “now little Caroline lives in me too”, so she’s clearly still in there somewhere and makes up a fundamental part of who GLaDOS is.
Now I mentioned all that to segue into this next part. Do you think if GLaDOS just “hated Chell less” she would have organized an entire choir and orchestra out of turrets for her to listen to as she left the facility? Do you think she would have given her a companion cube, the thing that’s been a symbol for the human emotion of caring throughout the series with even players being attached to it sometimes?
Let that sit on your mind for a second.
Portal 2 has a second story-driven gamemode. The co-op. In the co-op you play as Atlas and P-body, two robots who GLaDOS put in place for testing in the absence of Chell. Now we see that these robots can’t really die, possibly in-canon as they respawn in the co-op as long as one of them is still alive. Unlike humans, these robots can’t come to permanent harm.
At the end of the coop, the two robots find the room where the crow’s made a nest. They manage to get the crow out of the facility, but find the eggs it’s laid. At first GLaDOS is horrified but then decides to take the eggs and raise the chicks herself. Of course she does this in her own way of trying to see them as dangerous “killing machines” but before she switches to that, she even names two of them “Marshmallow” and “Mr. Chubbybeak”. As dangerous as she is GLaDOS has a heart and some kind of caring instinct.
That’s not the only thing those two find at the end of the coop. They also find an entire untouched wing full of humans in cryosleep. GLaDOS wakes them up, puts them to testing.. and “depletes” the entire test subject supply in a few days.
Now, as we know by this point this isn’t exactly her fault. It’s the facility that instills “the itch”, the drive to test and experiment regardless of the consequences, as long as the facility itself is intact. And she knows that very well.
And in the end, I think that’s why she sends Chell away. Not out of hate, but out of care and love. In that brief time of freedom from the facility and the itch she gets, she realizes she does care. “I used to want you dead but now I only want you gone.” GLaDOS wants Chell gone because she knows that despite how much she wants Chell to stay with her, Chell will be happier in the outside world, and if she stays in the facility she will eventually come to harm.
“Want You Gone” is GLaDOS trying to intentionally deny that she cares so she doesn’t get hurt. In her own words,
“Goodbye my only friend…
Oh did you think I meant you?
That would be funny,
If it weren’t so sad.
Well, you have been replaced.
I don’t need anyone now!
When I delete you
Maybe I’ll stop feeling so bad…”
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HetaGame List:
Unfinished vs Complete
There aren't many lists or wikis that clearly list the games' statuses. Most say "ongoing" even if they're discontinued, and I can't easily find the last update.
So I did some digging to try and figure out which games were complete, discontinued/abandoned, or ongoing (meaning the creator is active). I also tried to figure out which were unplayable.
However, I couldn't figure out all of them, so if I made a mistake or you have information on one that I don't, please let me know!
Unfinished:
HetaOni (Tomoyoshi/Pianodream) (discontinued)
RomaHeta (Tomoyoshi) (unplayable, discontinued)
Escape from Siberia (Miryuha) (discontinued)
HetaHospital (Atomic-Crayon)
Hetalia Islands (Jezzica95)
Hetapocalypse (Schwer-von-Begriff) (unplayable, discontinued)
England's Disappearance (Maggy-Neworld)
Reconditis Mysterium de Olympus (MsEirtaku) (ongoing)
Mnemophobia (Asahi)
HetaGeist by (Atomic-Crayon) (discontinued)
HetaFear (Atomic-Crayon)
Project Espanya (Quasi-Harkness)
HetaOrigin: Redraw the World (Jpopkitty)
Ibtalia (Mayburger) (discontinued)
Complete:
Dreamtalia (Kyokoon64)
Lincantropo (Itou Itsuki)
HetaFire (LeanneVlogzFilmz)
Blood of the Rose (animeArtluvr469)
Imaginary Nightmare (KingDespair)
Hetalia Floral Orchestra (Dream-thunder)
Hetà: The Last Age (Acquazzone)
Cancel a Format (Tomoyoshi)
Late For A Very Important Date (FandomDrowning)
Hetaipseity (Lilica)
Freedom (MapleSweater)
HetaOni (Cookie) (remake of the og w/ fanmade ending)
#hetagame#hetalia game#hetalia#hws#aph#hetaoni#romaheta#escape from siberia#hetahospital#hetalia islands#hetapocalypse#England's disappearance#reconditis mysterium de olympus#mnemophobia#hetageist#hetafear#project espanya#hetaorigin#ibtalia#dreamtalia#licantropo#hetafire#blood of the rose#imaginary nightmare#Hetalia floral orchestra#hetà: the last age#cancel a format#hetalia late for a very important date#hetaipseity#freedom maplesweater
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Merry Christmas @racfoam ! Here's a small gift for you!
A scene from a Harrymort AU where Harrie sold herself to Voldemort in exchange for peace.
"Look up."
The words were whispered in her ear, a sinuous demand that wound its barbed coils tight around her throat. She complied, helpless against the command, her eyes flicking up.
There, hanging from the ceiling, was a bouquet of mistletoe. Vibrant green leaves, white fruits dotted around the bulk of the plant, and a red ribbon.
Fuck.
Harrie tried to run.
Large hands clamped down on her shoulders, pinning her in place.
"You know what that means," Voldemort said, with a softness that belied the steel strength of his grip.
"No."
It didn't mean anything, because he couldn't force her into it. That was one of the few safeguards of the contract binding her to him. She had to obey most of his orders, but she was free to ignore anything regarding physical intimacy. He couldn't make her kiss him.
"It's tradition, Harrie."
"I'll make a new tradition. Stand under the mistletoe, punch you in your noseless face."
He chuckled, and the sound trailed down her spine like a ribbon of smooth silk.
"Still so fierce. You've been mine for six months now, and you haven't lost your fire."
She gnawed into her lower lip, unable to deny it. She was his. She had signed that contract and given herself to him, and in exchange, he had halted his attempts at taking over wizarding Britain. He no longer threatened Muggles and Muggle-borns. There was peace—at the cost of her freedom.
"One kiss," he said, leaning down until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Just... one kiss."
She swallowed past the heavy lump in her throat. Something was churning in her stomach. Disgust, that was disgust—disgust when she pictured his snake-like face, the pale skin, the slits he had for nostrils, and those unnatural red eyes that always pierced right through her.
Yes, disgust only, she told herself, resolutely ignoring the low, cramping pull in her belly.
People were watching.
This was a party, after all—a Yule celebration—and there were guests from both sides. Death Eaters mingled with members of the Order of the Phoenix, while a few international guests were present as well. The orchestra was playing, and people were talking and mingling around the buffet, half of them oblivious to the mistletoe situation. The other half was looking at her and Voldemort.
The Malfoys were watching, all three of them, identical gray eyes on her. Snape was watching, from halfway across the room, a glass of Champagne in his hand as he stared at her, gaunt features set in a blank mask. Her friends—Ron, Hermione, Ginny—were watching, and they looked furious, but there was nothing they could do. Coming to her rescue would violate the terms of the contract, and Harrie had made it clear to them that—
—that she'd chosen this. That it was worth it. That she wanted it.
Another pulse of heat tugged at her core.
The bastard was keeping the soul bond wide open, wielding it as a weapon against her. His desire flowed toward her like a torrent, the water accumulating fast. Her mental wall wobbled.
He wanted a kiss? Fine. He would get a kiss.
Turning around, she grabbed him by the lapels of his stupid suit, tugged him down, and smashed her lips to his.
A solar flare of desire erupted between them. Voldemort let out a predatory growl and opened his mouth, his forked tongue flicking out. Harrie growled back.
Then she bit him.
Her incisors sank into his thin bottom lip, and the bitter flavor of his blood burst onto her tongue. She huffed in triumph, drawing back. He didn't let her move away. His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers knotting in her hair, and he pressed their mouths together with ravenous greed, his tongue plunging between her lips.
Blood.
Blood and fire—she was burning, burning for him.
A final lick of that prehensile tongue against her own, and he let her go.
She hurriedly stepped back, her heart racing. Glaring at him, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face felt too hot, her knickers too damp.
"What a delightful surprise," he said, with a sly grin. "My lioness has claws."
"That's all you'll get out of me."
His crimson eyes flared like a sunset. He lifted a finger to his mouth and casually ran it across his lips, before licking the blood with a swipe of tongue that was frankly obscene.
"That is all I wanted for now, Harrie."
She turned her back on him and lied to herself, twice. She pretended she wasn't running away.
And she pretended she hadn't liked that kiss.
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how to love
pair. diluc ragnvindr x gn!reader
content: pure tooth-rotting fluff
diluc ragnvindr would never love again. that's what he told himself when he returned from the icy north of snezhnaya.
but there's something in the way he sways you, barefoot in the grounds of the winery with the smell of grapes and crystalflies and the sunset on your face. you're singing and dancing together, humming a tune he's sure you learned from the gods themselves. it's quiet - no one else is here to witness the both of you and you're pulling him into a hug that makes him feel like a boy again.
there's something in the way you jump into the lake surrounding the city, the way you're kicking cold water at him. the way you're slowly smoothing out the crease of his frown. dreamy sighs and kisses, fingers tracing his jaw, teeth knocking, chests heaving; he can feel every exhale that leaves you filling in his own ribcage. your hands are wet and his hair will surely be tangled later, but he doesn't care.
there's something in the way you're tugging him along, sprinting through fields upon fields of dandelions and windwheel asters. he can't even keep up, not with his heavy boots and coat, but he's running nonetheless with you. it's an orchestra of giggles and a symphony of bliss. music blooms in his heart where he thought it would lie silent forever, the steady rhythm of his in tandem with yours.
there's something in the way you perch yourself along the walls surrounding the city, breeze all-powerful as if blessed by barbatos himself. it blows the hair out of your face so he can see you fully. and he's almost certain his heart is leaping into his throat when you lean back, eyes shining toward the heavens. you scream out anything and everything on your mind. "let's have wild boar stew for dinner tonight!" you yell to the sky in a fit of laughter, earning you plenty of strange looks from the knights guarding the gate below you. he can always apologize to them later with his usual professional facade up, but right now he wants to kiss you. he does kiss you. it's freedom - that's what it is with you. he's free.
you're teaching him how to love life again. how to love the world, and how to make peace with himself. how to love the place he grew up. how to love cold water and the thrill of heights and dandelion seeds carried away in the wind. how to love and how to fall in love.
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
#sorry ive been on a diluc brainrot lately#he deserves wholesome fluff#have this teeny tiny drabble#genshin impact#diluc ragnvindr#genshin#genshin impact x reader#diluc ragnvindr x reader#diluc ragnvindr x you#diluc ragnvindr x y/n#— whispers in the wind ✧
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