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magnificentstrawberryomen · 12 days

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Indisposed (Noah Sebastian fanfic)

18+

Autors note: hi, thank you sm for taking the time to read my story! please let me know what u think of it. also, english is not my first language so i'm sorry if there will be any grammar and/or spellings mistakes, im trying my best :)

Summary: Hailey Clark is Noah's dressing assistant, and has been working for him and the rest of Bad Omens for half an year now. Hailey and Noah have always been attracted to each other, making teasing and sometimes flirtatious jokes back and forth, and became very close and caring for each other since the start of Hailey working for them. They always waited for that one right moment to finally give in to their desire for each other, but there hasn't been one yet, also with the fear of others and their management. Until that one after party after a succesful show arrives and they simply cannot hide their feelings for oneanother anymore, with all its consequences...

CW/TW's throughout the story: Smut, sexual talk, mentioning religion, mention of ed and (bad) mental health/depression, bad relationship with parents/family, christian family history, alcohol use, smoking (cigarettes) [if i forgot something please let me know]

prologue

The sigh that escaped from my mouth wasn't as calm as I hoped to be. I have been looking everywhere for my just newly bought makeup brushes that I've just used for Jolly half an hour ago. How the hell did I already lose them? Lead singer Noah Sebastian-basically the star of the show-is the last band member left for makeup and dressing. Of course.

I've been their personal makeup and dressing assistant for half a year now. The job pays quite well, I was already very impressed by the band and their music before doing this and I can do something I love every day, so I've been feeling very thankful for being able to do this. Through the last six months I have built a very close bond and friendship with the band and the rest of the crew, something that has helped even more with doing this every day.

Tonight will be a pretty big show, so being stressed is an understatement right now. I am quite the perfectionist, so my makeup brushes suddenly missing now is just as chaotic in my head as how the dressing room currently is. `Goddamnit,´ I curse to myself.

`Seems like someone is in need of some assistance,´ I hear Noah saying, so I turn around to look at him with hopeless eyes. A grin is appearing on his face as he walks over to me, and I have no energy right now to make a remark back to him. That's quite how our friendship has been built up to-make (sarcastic, playful or mostly from Noah's side, sassy) remarks to each other, teasing, or mess with each other. Sure, we can have some normal conversations as well, but we love to get to each other most of the time.

I can tell he freshly washed his mid-length hair as it is still a little damp, and it covers his eyes for a moment so he pushes it back with his hand. He wears a simple black shirt and short pants, with half-worn sneakers underneath and a bottle of water in his other hand where he has drinked out before.

`You are the last member I need to style. I can't seem to find my damn brushes anywhere…´

`Relax, darling, you'll be fine. Maybe I can help you with your brush set?´ he says in a sort of playful way, and I quickly roll with my eyes, not in the mood to joke about it right now.

`Please, Noah, I'm trying not to freak out. You should know by now how important being organized and scheduled is to me. You guys have to go up on stage in like…´ I look at the watch on my right wrist, and my eyes grow wide. `An hour and a half. Oh shit.´

`Well, that's a lot of time darling, what's the rush?´ Noah answers, looking at his own watch himself, and then back to me. His face remains calm, and I know he is saying this and acting like this to keep me calm and focused myself. I know he can be a little control freak himself, but he has gotten pretty good at making sure I am more stable before him. He knows how my brain works by now, and I have always found it a sweet gesture that he cares more about my own sanity most of the time than his.

`Well, everything just has to go…´

´Perfectly. I know,´ he finishes my sentence before I can. Like I said, he knows me too well by now.

`And it won't be without those brushes?´ Noah raises his eyebrows slightly with the corners of his mouth slightly curled.

`Noah, think about the lighting. The different kinds of colors, the almost 2 hours you guys have to perform-no offense but, that sweat needs to be at least a little bit covered. And then there's your outfit…´ I ramble on, and I know that I might sound insane, but I don't care at this moment-I just want my makeup set to be complete, goddamnit.

He slightly chuckles, and says: `Fine, fine, let's go look for your brushes…´

He moves closer to me and puts my hand on my hip while doing so, a little amused smile now forming on his lips.

`Focus,´ I mumble, trying to ignore his touch. I must admit that sometimes, moments like these are hard to resist for me. We have not only built a great friendship in the last half year, but also a kind of mutual attraction to each other. There have been moments where we can be touchy, sometimes n79t even thinking much about it or realizing it-and no one has really reacted weird to it, not even the rest of the band or the crew. They have gotten used to it by now, and so have we. But, sometimes the touch can be or feel a little… intense. I can feel myself wishing for more, I can feel the tension in the air, I can see the twinkle and desire in his eyes… and I am sure I have looked at him the same way every time. We never really had a moment to act into it, or the confidence, I guess. We just let it happen and let it go after. Well, also because I want to at least try to keep our relationship still a little bit professional as well, since I love this job and I do not want to lose it.

Noah rolls his eyes and removes his hand from my hip, and just as he does that, he takes the warmth of his body with him, but he doesn't move away from me. `Yeah, yeah, I'm focused… lead the way,´he responds with a playful grin on his face, moving just a little closer to still feel his proximity.

I tell him spots to look at, and at some point I am even looking through my own damn lunchbox, but I sigh out of relief when I find the brushes in a not well lit corner of the dressing room (are we surprised that their dressing rooms are mostly very dark?) underneath a pile of random clothes I tried on Jolly before. `I got them,´ I say with a relieved, tired smile. I'm surprised that they even got here, since I am usually very organized, but I think that I got them there out of a blur of stress-some shows just give me more stress than the others.

`There you go! See, you really didn't need to be all stressed out. How many times do I tell you that you are always more worked up than you actually have to be? Or is this an excuse to just spend some more time with me?´ he responds teasefully, and I roll with my eyes while holding back a smile. I can tell he is excited and looks forward to the show from tonight-which I do not blame him for, they will be performing for one of their biggest crowds.

`No Noah, I'm doing what I am getting paid for. Now sit,´ I demand him and pat the makeup chair.

`Do I get a say in this, or should I just comply from the get go?´ he asks me with a raised eyebrow, his smirk growing a bit wider as he slowly sits down on the chair.

`I think you should shut your ignorant mouth and let me do my thing,´ I jokingly said, but also really, really wanted to start now because time is ticking by.

Of course his smirk only grows bigger because of that comment, I should have known. `Yes ma'am…´ he says in a sarcastic way, moving his head closer to me with his eyes closed so I can finally start my work.

While I do so, I furrow my eyebrows in concentration like I always do, taking some sips of water in between, since this arena is not really cool with the warmth of outside to say the least. `Almost done,´ I let Noah know.

He sits perfectly still while he watches me, the silence only interrupted by the sound of the music from the opening act, coming from the main stage. I can notice him taking in the details of my face, something I sometimes catch him doing, and it makes me swallow while I try to focus on the finishing touches.

`How much longer until you're done?´ he asks after a minute, I guess to get out of the silence a bit.

`Done,´ I say right after that, stepping back to look at him for the last time and then nod, to give reassurance to myself.

`And just like that she's done,´ he says while getting up from the makeup chair, and he smiles at me after. `You're always doing a good job at this, I hope you know that.´

I smile at him, needing to look up since he is taller than me. `Thank you Noah.´ I turn around and get out a rack with his clothes. `Now all that's left to do is to get you into your clothes.´

I can notice that Noah can't hide his own stress anymore, because he sighs and looks at the time on his phone.. `Yeah, let's do that.´ He walks toward the clothing rack to put his first outfit on, and while doing so he looks at me. `Will you be there by the side stage to watch us?´

`Yes, tonight I will be,´ I smile. `Can't miss one of you guys biggest shows.´

Noah looks at me with a thankful and kind of relieved face, nodding and when he starts putting his clothes on, I try not to get distracted by his torso, his biceps, his tattoos… like I said before, one night it's easier than the other. I can tell that he notices me struggling, because a smooth smirk is appearing from time to time on his face. Asshole.

He cracks his fingers and neck when he is fully dressed, something I always try not to cringe about because of the sound. He quickly looks at me in an apologizing manner, and then again at the time on his phone after. `Well… I should go to the other guys. Show is almost about to start.´

`Yes, good luck Noah,´ I say with a smile while leaning into him for a hug, something that has become a ritual every night for us by now. `You got this. You always do.´

He hugs me back tightly, his other hand moving and holding the back of my neck as well. `Thank you, Hailey,´ he quietly whispers in my ear, letting go of me after a few seconds. `It'll be one hell of a show.´

The corners of my mouth rise again. `It will be.´

`And I hope to see you after it too? Because the show is not the only thing that'll be one hell of a hit tonight,´ he adds with a grin.

`The after party of course,´ I say, and to be honest I had been kinda forgetting about it, my focus was too much on making everyone's look as perfect as possible. `Yeah, I will be there.´

I can see that he wants to continue this conversation by the way his lips part again, him being distracted by the idea of the afterparty, so I quickly pat his head and say: `Now, get out of here. Go rock the show like you always do.´ I even start pushing him towards the exit, which makes him let out a laugh.

`Okay okay, damn. Don't worry-I'll make sure to give them a night they'll never forget.´

Little do I know, that it indeed will be a night the both of us will never forget, or be able to.

#noah sebastian #noah #noah bad omens #bad omens #noahsebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfiction #fanfiction #romance #smut #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian smut #18+ only #18+ content #18+ story #story #reading #tumblr fanfic #badomenscult

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 11 months

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Yay requests are open! :DDD

Can I maybe get something with mandela catalogue because WHY NOT YLDLYDYLDLYFK

I maybe went beyond you with Alternate y/n but can I get something like so fluffy and they so God damn sweet it so silly like????

They so kind and Affectionate to everyone like wtf (maybe hug out of no where they would squeeze the hell out of the person or compliment non stop with heart eyes like <3333 *nothing suspicious Of course!!*)

Would like Scenario with mark, any Alternate (might intruder specifically but whatever u like!) And Gabriel! :0

U can choose or make more than one I would be 10× happy <33

I know it's tough or annoying and you are free to ignore this request but please tell me so I won't wait <3

Love your writing please keep going and take care of yourself!

I just did the three you requested ^^ Took me a bit to figure out scenarios but hope you like 'em!

............

--Mark--

"Your place of worship has..quite the vastness. Are all of them like this?"

"There's smaller ones around town, but this is the one I've pretty much grown up in."

"I see...it's quite lovely. All the flowers and stained glass windows add a nice touch."

"Mhm.." Mark nodded his head, keeping a vacant gaze on the church's altar as he fiddled with the rosary tangled in his fingers.

You, in the meantime, were intrigued by this house of god--the same place Preacher once infiltrated to adopt one of the nuns' forms. But luckily, she had moved on since then and hasn't disturbed these grounds.

It was a surprise that Mark actually allowed you to accompany him tonight..considering you were quite adamant about stepping through the doors. You thought he'd become distressed upon learning his sanctuary had no spiritual nor physical barriers that kept Alternates out.

But he apparently knew that already and accepted it, as he invited you anyways, insisting he didn't wish to be alone.

When he knelt down to pray for some time, you left him be while exploring the church for yourself, looking at the architecture.

You continue to be impressed by what humanity has built for their religion.

When you returned to the pews, Mark was no longer kneeling, instead sitting there with a blank stare. And judging from his empty responses to your remarks, he seemed...lost.

Didn't he come here to put his mind at ease? You thought you'd see him become less tense after finishing his prayers, but he looked just the same--if not more upset.

"...I couldn't think of anything new this time."

Confused, you sat down next to him. And he took your silence as a sign to elaborate.

"I mean...I-I keep praying for the same stuff. For my friend to be at peace, wherever he is, my parents to talk to me again....and for things to go back to normal. But it feels like I'm asking for the impossible. It just..doesn't seem worth it anymore.."

"I believe all of those things are still worth praying for, Mark..be it one time or a hundred." You softly interjected, frowning a bit. "Life may not entirely go back to what it once was, but you can always pray for better days ahead. You have survived the worst of them, and you'll survive plenty more."

He was quiet for a moment, before shrugging. "It feels like even that's too much to ask for nowadays. Maybe...He forgot about me, or my prayers aren't enough-"

"I doubt anything's ever "too much" for your god. I'm sure He hears you and knows you're trying to stay faithful in such difficult times. If I were Him, I'd think your prayers are good enough for...."

Stopping, you heard him sniffle and gazed at him in worry, seeing his shoulders slumped. "Mark?" You were especially alarmed when he suddenly began to sob, bringing his hands to his face.

In that moment you feared that you've accidentally said something MAD-inducing. "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it like-"

"I-In all my years going to..c-confession..nobody's ever told me that." He cried quietly. "They said my soul was doomed the moment I met that intruder guy...a-and there's only a small chance I can be saved if I keep praying.."

You blinked, bewildered by what you were hearing. "Your whole church knows about that night? And they blame you for encountering him? But that wasn't your fault...you were a child."

"Th-They don't care. They never did. But of all people..I never expected an Alternate to tell me something so....r-reassuring..." Mark looked up at you, and the smile on his tearful face confirmed he wasn't upset with you in the slightest. "Thanks, [y/n]. I..I really need to hear that."

"But of course." You smiled back and brought him into an embrace, squeezing him tightly as relief swept over you. "There's no need to weep anymore, little lamb. For I am here and I see your good heart and soul..even if others don't."

All he did was nod in response, and that was enough for you.

You'll definitely have Six's head on a silver platter for this someday.

.........

--Intruder--

"Tell me, Six..have you grown soft for the prophet?"

"..what ever do you mean, traitor?"

"Does "I cradled him in my arms, my sweet boy" ring a bell?"

Six scowled as you mimicked his voice, grinning cheekily at his reaction.

You were just getting a kick out of angering him at every possible turn. Especially ever since he knew you've been "siding" with humanity as of late, looking after a young man you've come to see as a friend.

He didn't like that one bit--yet he couldn't say anything to Gabriel.

Your leader figured you were only acting this way as a means to destroy humans from the inside-out once you've gained their trust enough.

But Six, on the other hand, knows you true intentions. You wanted to protect them.

Unfortunately for him, the "angel" threatened him not to disrupt your plans again..lest there be severe consequences.

"Oh come now, why the long face, brother?" You teased. "Over 3,000 of their kin you have abducted..and none of their sweet faces have ever touched your heart?"

"What heart? We don't have those, and you know it."

"..what about that Heathcliff boy you spared? You know..he drew a picture of you and showed it to his class a long time ago."

"It wasn't the right...wait, he did what..?" He blinked, surprised that a child would want to draw him. Usually, he frightened them most when he appeared to them in reality and not as their best friend "Stanley".

But nothing surprised him more than when you had Mark's actual drawing in-hand, giving it to Six and allowing him to look at it. You watched his expression carefully, seeing his gaze soften considerably as his eyebrows furrowed.

"This..was made by him? How did you-?"

"His teacher confiscated it, but I've recovered it." You tilted your head, your smile only growing more. "Are you sure you don't care? Because now you look like a father who is proud of his child's artwork-"

"You're wrong. I don't feel any sentiment towards them. Everything I've done was to manipulate them into doing our master's bidding." Immediately, his scowl returned and he glared back up at you-

Only for him to flinch as you wrapped your lanky arms around him without warning.

He squirmed about, realizing you were once again doing this...awful and disgusting thing you've adopted from humans. You've shown it to other Alternates, but he despised it. "Release me!!"

"Don't lie to me, brother. You're weak to their influence as I am." You laughed, squeezing him tight. "There's no shame in admitting it-"

"GET OFF!! Traitorous black sheep!"

Six suddenly glitched out of your embrace, disappearing from reality altogether. You looked around and eventually spotted his silhouetted figure in the nearest TV, white eyes glaring at you.

He was safe..for now. But you've had your fun with him, so you simply left him alone.

Though not without laying the drawing down on the floor where he could see it.

You never noticed his hand creeping out from the screen and grabbing it, dragging the paper into his realm.

.....

--Alt!Gabriel--

"How is your deception of humanity fairing, my child?"

"It is going well." Smiling up at your Savior, you clasped your hands together in front of you. "I'm learning more about what they enjoy..and what their sorrows are. Soon enough, it'll become easier to watch them rot from within."

"As it should. I do want to apologize for the...erratic behaviors of your dearest brother. He does not understand your mission as well as I do."

At the mention of Six, you nodded, trying to bite back your utter disdain for him. There's a lot you wanted to say about him, but you didn't come here to complain about him the entire time.

He wasn't worth wasting your breath.

"No he does not. I liken him to a petulant child." You sighed. "He's convinced you're..."playing favorites" with me when I've done nothing particularly extraordinary compared to-"

"Now, now..you mustn't speak that way." Gabriel's chuckles reverberated through the dark void you two stood in. "Give yourself a little credit, won't you? You have done well, and I know you'll continue to be quite the spy. I was right to bring you into creation..my most loyal servant yet."

Flattered by his praise, you couldn't help but kneel before him, trying to hide your growing smile.

"Thank you, my divine leader. I shan't forget this life you've breathed into me. I receive your generous words wholly."

"..hahaha..so eloquently spoken. You may as well be a human yourself! I commend you for adapting their language so quickly." You felt his hand reach down to pat the shadowy top of your head.

His eerie smile stretched even wider than yours, knowing he had you wrapped around his finger perfectly.

Of all the Alternates, you've complimented him the most. The others were too mindless to converse with him as long as you did.

Of course, Six was the exception..but all he ever did was complain about you like some tattle-tail.

You, on the other hand, never acted out of line or questioned his demands.

You were as obedient as a sheep. Exactly as he wanted.

"Now rise, my child, and go forth. We still have a lot of work to do."

#clanask #mandela catalogue x reader #tmc x reader #mark heathcliff #tmc intruder #tmc six #alternate gabriel #alternate reader #alternate y/n #fluff #platonic

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kaleb-is-definitely-sane · 1 month

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Okay but am I the only one with a special love for declarations of love that border on religious/sacrilegious?

I mean i just love that “my future husband becoming to me my whole world; and more then the world: almost my hope for heaven. he stood between me and every thought of religion… i could not, in those days, see god for his creature: of whom i had made an idol” "heaven did not seem to be my home and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth" "heaven and hell were words to me" "do not swear at all. or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee" "he knows himself to be equal to the gods" "that man seems to me to be equal to the gods who is sitting opposite you" "if love is a religion, i'll worship you morning and evening" "i love you so much my heart names you after gods" "she's a goddess. my muse, my lover - i worship her devotedly and sacrifices daily and she loves me back with a savage barbarism only the greek goddesses could" "she's a myth, she's a legend. one look at her is sure to lock you out of heaven" "i want to devour you. you want to devour me. so let's consume each other. it's communion - though it sure doesn't look like church" "in the crooks of your body i find my religion" "if the heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece" "we were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other" "my love is not idolatrous, okay? that’s bullshit. it’s not. i’m just saying it’s theological perfection, that’s all. like the Holy Trinity, but a hundred times better" "take me to church: i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. i'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife. offer me that deathless death. oh good God, let me give you my life" "you built me palaces out of paragraphs. you built cathedrals" "women were to me a cathedral. beautiful and religious even. their ability to make worshipers… worth writing a poem for" "i would have come out of eden to open the door for you if i had known you were there" "i slithered out from eden just to outside your door" "my church offers no absolutes; she tells me, 'worship in the bedroom.' the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you" "and if the devil were to see you he would kiss your eyes and repent" "love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. it's like religion. it's terrifying" "i wanted to know what I looked like to you. a sin committed and a prayer answered, you said" "she'll give you all your desires but her demands are sacrificial" "there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin" "he thought her body gave him his first name. he thought her thighs could tell him who he was. he thought lust and love had the same hands" "it's more then love she feels for him... it's more like worship" "to fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god" "unholy. killer of men. makes you wonder how much longer till you give in" "if my love is blasphemous, then may i burn i hell" "her beauty is so great that heaven is flawed for the lack of her" "if I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight. to keep the goddess on my side, she demands a sacrifice" "i would put off meeting god in paradise, to meet you one last time" "she is heaven's light" "she is hellfire" "you remember church as a boy. the fear and the passion. that's what she makes me feel" "when he leaves the room, he bows and acts precisely as if he were before a shrine" "we are one person in two bodies" "i am not whole without you" "i need my other half. you are me, and i am you" "o that it were not in religion sin to make our love a god, and worship it" "unable are the loved to die for love is immortality, nay it is deity - unable they that love to die for love reforms vitality into divinity" kind of love

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ratinayellowbandana · 18 days

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lavender thread // a curated imodna playlist

I started curating this playlist over two years ago, and it’s still one of my favorite creations because I put arguably way too much thought into it. I soft-launched this a couple weeks ago, and I was genuinely surprised by how many people checked it out.

It’s in rough chronological order from pre-relationship to post-campaign. Every song goes through a fairly thorough vetting process for thematic appropriateness, accuracy, tone, and genre. For example, if there are too many references to modern technology, days of the week, months, real places, religion, etc., it will likely be cut to build the "world of the story." Imodna playlist, but make it hyperspecific. Like, corpse falling in love with an embalmer specific. (you can find the "rejects" here)

Right now, the playlist is broken into two acts, with a prologue, an epilogue, and a couple of sub-sections sprinkled in. I personally recommend not shuffling, at least on a first listen, so you get to experience the full journey. But hey, I can’t stop you.

This playlist is a constant work in progress. I’ll add new songs I find that feel fitting, and sometimes they live at the bottom of the playlist for a while before I get around to slotting them in. “Dance in the Graveyards” will always be the end of the structured playlist. Rarely, I’ll remove or shuffle a song if I think it doesn’t fit the vibe, the lyrics aren’t specific enough, or it’s just not working.

I’m making this post to share my playlist with anyone else who might want it and to write down my reasoning for every song so I don’t forget it. It’ll be updated as new songs get added. Enjoy!

I laid out my reasoning for each song mostly for my own benefit. You'll see the "section," song title, artist, a little blurb from me, and one/two of my favorite or the most relevant sections of the song. Sometimes, I just had to pick something because the whole song was perfect.

Prologue:

“Stories” - Lilli Furfaro

It’s a beautiful framing device. It’s the premise of the game, the world, the show, and the characters. Fun fact: I found this song two full years before I learned she made a whole Vox Machina album lol.

“We are stories / Bеginnings, middles, ends / Our power lies in living lives that touch a life or two [...] / In this world we’ve built on games of chance / And hours of introspection”

ACT 1

Laudna, Before:

A general note: I looked for songs that were just slightly off-putting with darker over and undertones to match Laudna’s energy.

“Old Churchyard” - The Wailin’ Jennys

Welcome to the world. Foreshadowing and a set-up for the downfall of Whitestone. Speaks to the exhaustion. I imagine a tiny Laudna being ever so hopeful that it might get better but embracing the eeriness of a graveyard in the meantime.

“I rest in the hope that one bright day / Sunshine will burst through these prisons of clay / And the trumpets will sound on the hills near and far / Will wake up the dead in the old churchyard”

“Funeral Bell” - PHILDEL

The aftermath of the banquet. The fear, sadness, and resignation. The sense of relief.

“Oh mother, I’m scared to die. / Where, where do my good deeds lie? / Oh father, I’m scared to live, / Takes more than I’ve got to give.”

“Apple Tree” - Marika Hackman

Hanging from the tree. A crowd gathering. Wanting to be remembered. Enough said.

“Here I hang for the sated crowd / To look upon my eyes, look upon my mouth / And say, ‘We were there that day / I saw a face, heard a sound’”

“Special Death” - Mirah

Asking, “Why me?” A sense of confusion and loss along with the saving of Whitestone. Concludes with the beginnings of the la-la-las.

“But it's a special death you saved / For me, the brown-eyed daughter”

“Ain’t No Grave (Sparse)” - Crooked Sill, Aoife O’Donovan

It’s a little on the nose, yes, but I chose this version specifically for the sense of emptiness it evokes. There’s an implied skepticism of seeing people you think you’re able to trust, specifically “gods’ people” (as I’m choosing to interpret it), and thinking of the clerics who saw a monster. The dismay of being resurrected into a world that hates you. We’ll see if this one sticks; it’s a little heavy on references to Christianity.

“Ain't no grave gonna hold my body down / When I hear that trumpet sound / I'm gonna get up out of the ground”

“Don’t Know Who I Am” - Rebecca Roubion

The distinct loss of identity and a surprisingly apt description. Laudna had no name and no sense of self or what she was. She’s searching for something to identify.

“Black tears on my shirt / Black tears on my freckles / I've been stung by this hurt / I've been stung by a stinging nettle”

“Lying Beast” - Run River North

Running. Running far and fast, leaving home behind. Seeing herself as a beast and being terrified of it. So alone.

“And so I flew away with myself / I was the beast all alone in my hell!”

“Drinking Song” - House Phone

What could she have become if she hadn’t been murdered so soon? We see her begin to play and fantasize and dream and grow.

“'Cause you won't rewrite history / To commemorate the likes of me / And you would not believe me if I tried / To tell you all the things I've seen / And all the places that I've been”

“Mile Magnificent” - molly ofgeography

Starting to explore her magic and Delilah’s influence in her head. It starts to feel... good? The pent-up frustration and anger have a release.

“We bloom beneath the blessings of a goddess with no face [...] / All my better demons have gone the way they came”

“Stolen Roses” - Karen Elson

Digging into the anger, searching for a purpose. Too old and too young at the same time, forced to grow up too fast.

“There once was a time when I was a girl / That darkness hung in my sky / I was old before I learned to be young / Stone cold till I learn how to cry”

“These Bones” - Azrai (ft. Momo O’brien)

Searching for a home, a place to rest. Crossing the sea to Marquet. (The intro, as you’ll hear, foreshadows the pluckier sound of Imogen’s section.) Skeletal imagery.

“I am a long time finding home / I have only ever wandered before / It′s a savage sea we're made to roam / Every tide can turn to haunt us / But the ocean reaches past these ghosts / And I will always sail for more”

“Mountain Song” - Little Chief

A beautiful, adventurous musical introduction. Open to the possibility of new things, still weary, but there’s more here.

“I’ve been living in a hole in the mountain / Ain’t no sins in there / Oh, these memories they keep on following”

This is our transition into...

Imogen, Before:

A general note: I tried to seek out songs with more of a folky-bluegrass vibe for Imogen to match her background.

“Second Child, Restless Child” - The Oh Hellos

I imagine a very young, carefree Imogen. Well before her powers kicked in. I like to think she thought she was a bit of a troublemaker, but anything she did was so endearing and mild that it was sweet. A happy kid with big dreams until the signs of something else started to appear.

“With a spirit running wild, running free / And they saw trouble in my eyes / They were quick to recognize the devil in me”

“I’ve Endured” - Tim O’Brien

Growing up with her father in the mountains and in the fields. The nightmares begin. But this is fine, right? She can handle this.

“I've seen the lightnin' flashin', I heard the thunder roll / I've endured, I've endured / How long must one endure?”

“Wander. Wonder.” - The Arcadian Wild

The powers are coming on strong. Post-nightmares and in pain, nothing she did was good enough. She felt trapped in her own home, shackled by her mind and father, perhaps, as she tried not to let on that she was changing.

“Half awake I wander through this house / Lost in a labyrinth and left with no way out / I built this hall of mirrors all myself / Faces staring back at me look like somebody else”

“Lost in My Mind” - The Head And The Heart

Everything is So Much. Thoughts of leaving but–

“Momma once told me / ‘You're already home where you feel loved,’ / I am lost in my mind / I get lost in my mind”

“Trouble and Woe” - Ruth Moody

The voices are awful, and the world is so bleak. People are cruel. Getting worse, and hoping it will get better.

“This world is full of trouble and woe / All I see is trouble, everywhere I go”

“Little Bird” - The Weepies

People have noticed. Trips to town are much harder. The voices are louder.

“Sometimes it's hard to say even one thing true / When all eyes have turned aside, they used to talk to you / And people on the streets seem to disapprove / So you keep moving away”

“Storm Comin’” - The Wailin’ Jennys

It’s getting worse. Nightmares getting more frequent. Control is slipping. And, you might notice this song is by the same artist as Laudna’s first. I do love a bit of symbolism.

“Will you listen to that thunder roar and let your spirits soar / When that love calls, open up your door [...] / No, don’t run from the coming storm, ‘cause it can’t keep a storm from coming.”

This leads us to…

Connection

General note: a blending of both genres and styles.

“Mostly” - Vian Izak, Juniper Vale

A prelude, almost. Are you real?

“I've bought up all my dreams and sold off most my heart / I'd been lying to myself just to bury all my thoughts”

“Maybe” - The Henry Girls

The timid hope of meeting someone and realizing you feel like you’ve known them all your life. Suddenly, things might be okay.

“I feel like I should know you / I feel like we have met before [...] / And all these things that I don't really understand / Would be much simpler if you'd only hold my hand”

“Dandelion” - Heather Maloney

A moment of peace. I like to think of this as Laudna’s adoration of the natural world and its beauty. Her will to bend the laws of the world to give Imogen what she deserves. And, on a more literal level, to offer Imogen the gift of flowers because Laudna has little else to her name. This song also begins the recurring flowers-in-hair motif.

“I have nothing but these weathered hands / And I live nowhere on this wild land”

“Rain Clouds” - The Arcadian Wild

A connection over shared struggles from both sides. A mutual agreement of trust.

“I’m being frightened by the people / They look at me like I’m a scar upon their perfect skin / Perfect to only them / I’m being shadowed by my past / Reminding me of what I was and what I could become”

“Daylight” - Watchhouse

Realizing that this person might’ve saved you.

“My search was unending, and my soul was bare. And darling you came to me like a midnight flare.”

“The Devil In You” - The Haunted Windchimes

The joy of being seen. Of being known.

“I've walked a long long way it ain't new / Here I sit face to face with the devil in you / It looks a lot like someone I've spoken to / We were broken together it's true”

“Curses” - The Crane Wives

The fear that neither is good enough for the other. Basic choice? Maybe. But it’s too good to pass up.

"Every word I say is kindling / But the smoke clears when you're around / Won't you stay with me, my darling / When my walls start burning down, down, down?”

“Wildflowers” - The Wailin’ Jennys

You deserve better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give that to you. The feeling that this is too good to be true. Surely, it can’t last.

“Go away somewhere bright and new / I have seen no other / That compares with you”

“Bruised Feet” - Haunted Like Human

Laudna’s invitation to leave. Together. An escape from mistakes and the past.

“Do you want to hear the stories these bruised feet could tell / ‘Cause I’ve been chasing sunrises, throwing change in wishing wells / And I’m running to and I’m running from and oh Lord knows that I ain’t done / Running for the sake of running wild, so come with me child”

Unless...

ACT 2

On the Road

“Light in the Sky” - We Banjo 3

And they’re off on a search for knowledge and freedom.

“So if you’re lost in the night / Stuck between the demon and the knife / As it traces a line across your heart”

“Apple Pie” - Lizzie McAlpine

Transient, finding solace in one another. Home after home. How long can this last? This one has a few more references to modern things than I’d like, but I can’t pass up the vibes.

“Every house looks the same in my dreams / Every house feels like home for a couple weeks / I've been runnin' 'round trying to find a place where I can breathe...Home is wherever you are tonight.”

“Almost Home” - Keston Cobblers Club

In search of a person, a place to settle. As long as they’re together.

“The clouds will break the wind will brace these sails of stone / And I have never known a journey take this long / But I'm almost home”

“You and Me” - You+Me

They fit together.

“They say everything, it happens for a reason / You can be flawed enough but perfect for a person / Someone who will be there for you when you fall apart / Guiding your direction when you're riding through the dark”

“Witchcraft” - Vian Izak

I like to think Imogen is... realizing some things, and getting attached. (We all know she fell first.)

“It's witchcraft / And I've got no defense for it / The heat is too intense for it / What good would common sense for it do?”

“For My Emablmer” - Emily June

Laudna’s turn. Still seeing herself as a dead thing, a little confused by Imogen’s friendship but embracing it all the same.

“I hope you know I won't complain / If I decompose and you're to blame / Abandon your duties, lay down next to me / Grab my hand, feel no shame”

“Home to Me” - The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Keep coming back to each other regardless of what other people think.

“How dare you love me like you've never known fear / You've got more troubles than minutes in the year / And a voice like your father's tells you nothing good's for free / Well, that may be / But you're walking home to me”

“The Moon Song” - Brittin Lane, Mitchel Morse

Foreshadowing the importance of the moon later. For now, it’s peaceful.

“We're lying on the moon / It's a perfect afternoon / Your shadow follows me all day / Making sure that I'm okay”

“You Are My Sunshine” - Lena Hall

Contrasting the last song, when the moon becomes too much… there’s the sunshine. Specifically for Imogen constantly fighting the pull of the moon, Laudna is the sun, her spark, her light. What happens if she disappears?

“As I lay sleeping / I dreamed I held you / In my arms / When I awoke, dear / I was mistaken”

“Two” - Sleeping At Last

These two self-sacrificial, loyal, dedicated characters. Bonus points for “I will love you without any strings attached.” A double meaning for Laudna and Delilah.

“No, I don't want to talk about myself / Tell me where it hurts / I just want to build you up, build you up / Till you're good as new”

The Campaign

“Growing Up” - Run River North

Apt for both of them as they come into their own. Growing together as they explore the world, adventure with their friends, and learn to take what comes.

“I used to close my eyes / To what stirred under my bed / Now, they're open wide / To the monsters in my head / Instead of claws, they whisper lies”

“I found my way without your help / With broken family / I'll take my breaks with my sins / Do as I do, please / With my friends 'til the end / There lies my loyalty”

“Anything Can Happen” - Tors

Imogen is being pulled.

“But even when I start to dream / Every little piece of me / Gets a little close to the edge of darkness / I know I've been here before / Long as I'm not falling off / I'll be fine”

“Crawl In” - Upstate

Things are getting harder, but they’re seeking comfort in each other after nightmares and bad days alike.

“Crawl in my head tonight / Read my thoughts so I don't have to speak / It's been a long, long week but I'm tryin’ / To make do and stop fussin’ and fightin’”

“Bottom of the River” - Delta Rae

The crickets chirping continue the nightmare-ish theme of the last song. However. Shit’s getting real. Holding onto each other as they sink deeper.

“Hold my hand / Ooh it’s a long way down”

“Raise Hell” - Brandi Carlile

Can’t believe Laura Bailey beat me to this song by 2 days with her Imogen playlist. It’s the perfect mix of angsty and bluegrass-folky. Being born cursed and learning your strengths. May or may not stick because of the substantial references to Christianity, but I do love it for Imogen coming into her god-like power.

“It came upon a lightning strike / And eyes of bright clear blue”

"I'll Bend But I Won't Break" - Red Moon Road

First of all, could that band name be any more perfect? Second, this song is such a good tribute to Imogen's character. The tempo is quick; the drums like rolling thunder; and allusions to dreams, storms, the dark. "Still I will endure" calls back to the second song in Imogen's section, "I'll Endure," and "Still in the eye of the hurricane" is both great storm imagery and foreshadows "Hurricane" which is a song further down the playlist. I imagine this during Otohan Round 1, but it may shift around the playlist depending on how I feel about the flow.

"Lighting lights the sky like it's looking for me / Flashes of the forces the dark has set free / Thunder strikes the land / With the mighty heavy hand / It rocks me to my core / I won't fall down / I'll stand my ground / I'll bend but I won't break"

“Bury Me Smiling” - The Ballroom Thieves

Laudna’s second death. Love and loss.

“I stood in silence / A mind's worth of violence / Strung me a short rope / Round my neck / A love like an old home / Breathes in these dry bones”

“Afterlife” - Haunted Like Human

Laudna on Imogen’s desperate search to get her back. Asking Imogen not to waste her time. The choice to return. I particularly love the chimes. Musical thoughts and the reflection of death.

“So darling don’t go digging up graves / When love is lost the afterlife is a choice you gotta make / So put the nails in the coffin, let them rust in place / But darling don’t go digging up graves”

“The Mountain Song (First Dance Version)” - Tophouse

The “I would do anything for you” of it all. Resurrection. Hope. Bonus points for flower-in-hair motif.

“Well the clouds rolled in / There was lightning there was thunder there was rain / As we hid beneath our shelter / All the doubts that we had felt / Came pouring in as a flood we had to face”

“Flowers in My Hair” - Wes Reeve

Yearning. A bit of good old fashioned wanting what can’t be had. I imagine this is the last of the first Whitestone visit and the orange tree is the golden glow of the sun tree. Whitestone Andy mention? Continuing flower motif.

“I had a dream of a boy who loved me and / We danced in the leaves of an orange tree [...] / Then I went my own way, and you crossed the highway / But just maybe someday we’ll be, my pretty”

“Haven” - We Banjo 3

The Rudius arc is kicking into gear. “You have the biggest spark of anyone I’ve ever seen” vibes.

“The moonlight's a path we can travel down / River runs wild with what has gone before / Cast aside for new and more and more and more and more and more and more / Let me be your haven / Let me be your light”

Moon Arc

“Wax & Wane” - Alana Henderson

Oooh tension. The drama. The moon is affecting the relationship. We’re starting to see a shift to a darker mood around the Solstice and all that’s around it. Mirrors “Moon Song” - “There’s nothing I’d keep from you.” Oh yeah?

“But we bent and we broke and I meant what I spoke / And the blame game does not produce a winner / We went as far as we could go we had to go that far to know / That we had nowhere left to aim / And no one left to blame but / The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide”

“The Moon Will Sing” - The Crane Wives

This reminds me of Laudna during the separation and immediately after, starting to question everything, seeing herself as dark. That extreme co-reliance. Clinging to each other. Is it a good thing? Laudna starting to lean back into Delilah’s burn.

“The moon will sing a song for me / I loved you like the sun / Bore the shadows that you made / With no light of my own / I shine only with the light you gave me [...] / I want to feel the fire that you kept from me”

“Always You” - South for Winter

The rush of reunion. The high-pitched start, disbelief. Then: the warmth of returning to Your Person. Being able to rely on them. A bright spot.

“Should the blood red tides run o’er / Should our nightmares all come true / Should we lose this holy war / I know there’ll still be you [...] Oh my love / The skies are growing colder / Oh, my love / I need you more than ever”

“Tether Me” - Galleaux

In addition to the obvious tether relation, they’re both feeling pulls in different directions: Imogen to the red dawn; Laudna to the darkness of her mind. Being tied to her limbs earns you more puppet symbolism, particularly after Delilah's resurgence.

“For a moment, I was gone / The speed of light into the red dawn / In this space, do I belong?/ It’s dark out here in my own thoughts / Pull me back out of my body / I’m tied to my limbs”

“Blood Moon” - Saint Sister

The moon sure is tempting. The pulls for both of them are getting stronger. Things are getting darker, harder, more intense.

“And so I wonder will those scattered pits / Take root behind your cracking lips / They are always doing that [...] / The hunter’s moon was bleeding red / The night you left our thorny bed / You were always, always”

"Stay" by Haunted Like Human

I try really hard to avoid repeat artists because I feel like it keeps my bias toward one band in check. However. I'm a little convinced this artist is straight-up writing about Laudna at this point. This song isn't quite as musically dark as the other songs by the same artist that have made the playlist. It's a little more acoustic/has more guitar as a connecting bridge to Imogen. Plus, it hits all these specific marks: 1) reassuring that the voice in her head hasn't got the best of her yet 2) begging [Imogen] to stay and to not give up on her 3) apologizing for the weight of her sins and that they're not [Imogen's] to hold 4) addresses [Imogen's] feelings about the voice in Laudna's head.

"Darling you don’t hold me close the way you used to do / And I wonder what you’re thinking when I’m reaching out for you / You’re trying to be patient, yea you’re trying to be kind / But I know that you’re still running from the demons in my mind / But I promise this thing in my head / It ain’t got the best of me yet"

“If We Were Vampires” - Baggio & Hannah Kol

The looming sense that one of them won’t come back. As the end draws near, even if the upcoming fights don’t kill one of them, Imogen will out–age Laudna.

“It's knowing that this can't go on forever / Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone / Maybe we'll get forty years together / But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone”

“Hesitate” - The Harmaleighs

They’re hiding things from each other as the tension builds.

“You keep saying you love me / You keep telling me you’re proud / But you don't know who I am / 'Cause you're not even living out loud”

“Soothsayer” - Haunted Like Human

Not gonna lie this is my favorite song on the entire playlist. It is peak Laudna-Delilah. I would quote the entire song if I could. It’s dark, thematically perfect, and haunting. It's also by the same artist as "Afterlife," Laudna's "death" song to reflect that link. I imagine this is late C3 as Laudna continues to feed Delilah. My favorite line: “The thing that you hate / Is the thing you've become.”

“There's a price to be paid / But ain't that every trade? / You're just looking for strength when you're weak / Oh you know there's a flickering darkness / And it sings out like sirens to you / Yea it's sickly sweet and elegantly violent / But these debts that you take / They will someday come due / Hungry hands reaching up / Crave for more, lust for blood”

“Hurricane” - Bandits on the Run

While still being them having to navigate their relationship in the midst of the impending end of the world, this song brings to light Imogen’s relationship with her mother, too. She meets her mother in the storm.

“They told us run for cover / Stay close to home and mother / Don’t seek out any other”

“Chasing Twisters” - Delta Rae

It’s time. Make or break.

“I was born with lighting in my heels / Sewed a spur onto my ankle / Bit a horse under the steel / And I lost hope when I was still so young [...] / I’ll take you to the grave / The only love I’ve ever known / The only soul I ever saved / And I went home”

Epilogue

At the time of writing, we’re around C3:E95, so from here on out this is even more so my reinterpretation or guesses about the future. I’m hoping to flesh out this section and the middle/end of Act 2.

“Oh Mama” - honeyhoney

Our transition song. The cacophonous high of the last song into the unbelieving stillness of the piano, the end of a battle. The world has shifted. There’s no going back.

“All covered in mud the day is done [...] / Oh mama look at my heart / I’m useless now that it’s dark / We’re praying for rain a thunder of change / And lightning to lighten my way”

“If She Ever Leaves Me” - The Highwomen

Alright, this one’s a little self-indulgent, even more so than the others. But don’t we deserve a little wholesome “we made it” energy?

“I’ve loved her in secret / I’ve loved her out loud / The sky hasn’t always been blue [...] / She loves wild horses and tumbling dice”

“The Time for Flowers” - Emily Scott Robinson

The bookend and parallel to “Dandelion” from much, much earlier. This time, from Imogen’s perspective. Conclusion and continuation of flowers motif. “The skies are clear now. The moon is new.”

“I came upon a woman in a field on her knees / Singing ancient songs and sowing wildflower seeds / Tell me what the point in planting pretty things / In these days of darkness and disease [...] I have witnessed funerals and wars / Worried mothers, empty shelves, and empty stores / The storms will rage and the winds will blow / You are gonna find out that you're stronger than you know”

“Dance in the Graveyards” - Delta Rae

I always knew I was going to end the playlist with this song. It perfectly mirrors “Old Churchyard,” the first of Laudna’s songs. It's also by the same artist as the "climax" of the playlist. The drums give me Laudna, while the folksy sound gives me Imogen. Finding joy in death, in life, in love. Life will go on, new friends and old will come and go. And that’s alright. She’s happy. They’re happy.

“When I die, I don’t wanna rest in peace / I wanna dance in joy / I wanna dance in the graveyards, the graveyards / And while I’m alive, I don’t wanna be alone / Mourning the ones who came before”

If you're listening to the playlist on a loop, you'll return to "Stories." It reminds us that it was all just a story. It will happen again. Stories and characters and people will move us, make us feel and hurt and love. It is an ending just as much as a new beginning.

#imodna #wow sure would love if this showed up in the tag…..#laudna #imogen temult #critical role #am i a little bonkers for this one? maybe #feel free to comment reply interact send an ask etc etc #i have playlist brainrot so like. would happily discuss it endlessly #bonus: you might learn about new artists! bc no hate to anyone but i refuse to put generic love songs on here #cr3 #Spotify

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cameoamalthea · 1 year

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So about Sabine Wren

When we see her in the Ashoka Teaser:

(Brilliant casting, wonderful hair, and costume design)

She isn't wearing armor.

And sure, she's not in combat, the war is over, but Sabine isn't a soldier, she's a Mandalorian.

Mandalorians are a people, children of Mandalor. That's why Bo-Katan calls Din 'brother' when she first meets him and refers to the rest of the Mandlorians as her brethren. (This is a basic translation of 'vod' meaning brother, sister or comrade in the way you might call a friend bro or sis.)

Mandalorian is a religious and cultural identity. The Resol'nare is the six core actions that are the heart of her culture/religion:

Wearing armor.

Speaking the language.

Defending yourself and your family.

Raising your children as Mandalorians.

Contributing to the clan's welfare.

When called upon by the Mand'alor, rallying to their cause.

Wearing armor is number 1. Some factions interpret number 1 as never remove your helmet in front of others.

Most interpret it as wearing armor and removing your helmet where practical.

(look, it's Sabine's mom)

Even Mandalorians who are not practicing, but are Mandalorian by Leniage will still wear armor. Not just because Beskar Armor is amazing, but because armor connects the wearer to their family who passed it down to them.

"The armor I wear is 500 years old. I reforged it to my liking, but the battles, the history, the blood, all lives within it, and the same goes for every Mandalorian. This armor is part of our identity. It makes us Mandalorians who we are." - Sabine

For those born Mandalorian, their armor is a priceless heirloom. Foundlings who are not adopted into a family that can pass down armor are gifted extra pieces of armor by the entire community. Every scrap is sacred and goes to someone, it either connects you to your family, history, and blood or to everyone's family, history, and blood as part of the greater family of Mandalorians.

We've seen Sabine without her armor before, when going undercover she's worn imperial uniforms, but it is strange to see her forgoing beskar by choice.

I love how the design uses patches where she had emblems on her armor (I did that for my Disney Bound of her). It's very thoughtful costuming. So what is the meaning behind having her wear a leather jacket (Ezra's Jacket?) and forgo armor.

Has she exiled herself for not being there during the purge?

Sabine was estranged from her birth family during Rebels, but her birth family and people remained a core part of her identity and motivation.

youtube

In this scene, her adoptive Jedi father teaches her to wield the Dark Saber and to connect to her emotional truth.

"The truth... is that... I left to save everyone. My mother, my father, my brother! Everything I did was for family, for Mandalore!"

Joining the rebellion was for Mandalor and to atone for the harm she had done to her people while at the Imperial Academy (her system was imperially controlled, it was expected that she join, and she was a prodigy who joined young)

"I built weapons, terrible weapons, but the Empire used them on Mandalore, on friends, on family. People that I knew. They controlled us through fear. ( Scoffs ) Mandalore! Fear of weapons I helped create. I helped enslave my people! I wanted to stop it. I had to stop it. I spoke out! I spoke out to save them. To save everyone!"

In Rebels Sabine clearly identifies as a Mandalorian and that's an important part of her identity.

You can't tell she's a Mandalorian in the top photo, perhaps because she no longer believes she deserves to be one.

As shown above, her family and people are the most important thing to her. She left her found family to reunite with her birth family and found a rebellion on Mandalore which she led. However, after fighting alongside Bo-Katan Sabine felt that Bo-Katan should be leader.

(And so did everybody else, Bo-Katan was heir by blood but she was for all intents and purposes elected leader by popular consent)

Sabine then left to return to the Rebel Alliance and fight alongside her found a family in their rebel squadron and remained with them to safeguard Lothal.

Sabine left the Mandalorian Rebellion. She was not there when the rebellion failed. When the Empire set out to destroy her planet and kill everyone on it. She is a survivor of genocide and was not with her people fighting when it happened. Worse, the genocide was a response to a rebellion she started but was not there to see through.

It's not her fault. It's not any Mandalorian's fault.

But how must she feel?

Now recall the Resol'nare: half of the six core actions are about family, clan, and people.

Defending yourself and your family.

Contributing to the clan's welfare.

When called upon by the Mand'alor, rallying to their cause.

Sabine was not there to defend her family or contribute to her clan's welfare. She was not with Bo-Katan, the Mand'alor, she put in power, to help.

Perhaps Sabine no longer wears her armor because she no longer feels worthy of being a Mandalorian.

When Ahsoka sees her on Lothal Ahsoka is in gray robes like she wore in the Mandalorian.

In the Rebels epilogue Ahsoka is in white.

Sabine also looks different in this scene:

Sabine could not have grown her hair to the length in the Ahsoka trailer if that scene took place after the Rebels epilogue. However, she could easily crop her hair short between the trailer scene and the epilogue.

She's also wearing her armor again. Maybe when we first meet Sabine in Ahsoka we will see her in a darker place. She's given up on being a Mandalorian. She's grown her hair out in mourning. Maybe Ahsoka gives her hope, so she puts on her armor again and cuts her hair short, symbolically shedding the weight of grief and guilt.

#sabine wren #the mandalorian #mandalorian #Ahsoka #Youtube

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blueberry-beanie · 4 months

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The New Cue #357 February 12:

Everything Everything's Jonathan Higgs

"We were weirdos then and we’re weirdos now"

At the beginning of next month, Everything Everything release their seventh record Mountainhead. It’s another brilliant album from one of the UK’s most imaginative and forward-thinking guitar bands, a quartet who never tread water and have been consistently honing, reworking and outdoing what’s gone before for over 15 years, always coming up with a new version of themselves without ever losing what makes them special. The pillars of their music tend to be a mix of danceable synth-y grooves and inventive art-rock, intricate arrangements constructed around big pop hooks and surrealist lyrics, frontman Jonathan Higgs’ vocal delivery emotive and exuberant at the same time.

Higgs is at the centre of it all, a creative dynamo who seems to sum up their idiosyncratic approach and who has the ability to inject emotion into the bizarrest lyrics, lines such as:

“And no reptiles! Just soft boiled eggs in shirts and ties, Waiting for the flashing green man Quivering and wobbling just like all the eggs you know”

That one is taken from Get To Heaven’s epic standout No Reptiles.

Or this, which somehow sounds poignant when Higgs sings it on the electro-pop banger Arch Enemy:

“Fatberg you smile, with your grave wax eyes, will you consume me?”

Or how about this oddball corker, from the euphoric electronica of Raw Data Feel closer Software Greatman?

“Maybe I see Klingons on the starboard bow Maybe, I’m a cat inside a sacred cow

Higgs is at it again with this zinger from their excellent recent single Cold Reactor: “I sent you the image of a yellow face To tell you I’m sad about the emptiness that’s all around me”

That song, released in autumn last year as the first single from Mountainhead, has become Everything Everything’s biggest radio hit yet. It’s spent weeks on the Radio 1 B-list, a very uncommon position for an indie band whose members are all in their late 30s, but its success that sums up the vibrancy and relevance of Everything Everything in 2024. Even better, it probably meant Radio 1 have had to get their heads around this blurb from Higgs on what the new record Mountainhead is about:

“In another world, society has built an immense mountain. To make the mountain bigger, they must make the hole they live in deeper and deeper. All of society is built around the creation of the mountain, and a mountain religion dominates all thought. At the top of the mountain is rumoured to be a huge mirror that reflects endlessly recurring images of the self, and at the bottom of the pit is a giant golden snake that is the primal fear of all believers. A ‘Mountainhead’ is one who believes the mountain must grow no matter the cost, and no matter how terrible it is to dwell in the great pit. The taller the mountain, the deeper the hole.”

Well, you don’t get that with Catfish And The Bottlemen. A few weeks ago Niall – that is me, I am The New Cue’s resident Everything Everything nut in case you hadn’t guessed – spoke to Jonathan over Zoom about the mad concept around the new record, the dynamics of being in a band in 2024, his favourite Liam Gallagher tweet and more. I’ve made this playlist of my favourite Everything Everything songs to listen whilst you read,

Hello Jonathan. I love the new record, it feels different to Raw Data Feel, a bit looser… Yeah, it’s got a lot more freedom and it sounds more like a band playing a lot of the time rather than the rigid, more computerised stuff that we were doing before. We made an effort to make it feel a bit more real and laid back.

Was there much overlap? No, partly because we put everything we made for Raw Data Feel on that record, we didn’t leave anything in the banks. We did the opposite with this, we actually went back and looked at some old demos and brought them back to life because we were looking for some kind of angle that we weren’t going to stumble across, we wanted to go back to our youngest selves and go, ‘What was that thing we were doing?’.

That’s interesting, how far back did you go? I think it’s sessions for A Fever Dream, or it might be Re-Animator, so five or six years ago. Some of the songs on this are from that time, or at least elements of them are or a little demo was made and then thrown away and then we went back and said ‘Let’s explore this and breathe new life into it.’

When you’re seven records in and you start to look back like that, does it feel like different versions of the band? Yeah, definitely. There’s definitely been eras, we’ve never got stuck in one way of doing things. There’s an evolution, for good or for ill, since our first songs to now. I can find myself very quickly thinking in those terms when I hear a song from then, I’m like, ‘Oh yeah, I was trying to do this’ and that stuff changes over time and I’m glad it does because otherwise, you just make the same record again and again and no-one wants that.

Yeah. Without naming any names, for some bands it ends up becoming a process of survival and maintenance. Yeah, thankfully, we’re not in that position. I know what you mean, this idea of being a nostalgia act does not appeal very much, partly because we were at our peak three albums in so we can go back and feast on Get To Heaven-era but I have no interest in going back to Man Alive and trying to recreate that partly because we were weirdos then and we’re weirdos now, it wasn’t the glory days by any means. I’m immensely proud of what we did back then but I’m not going to try and retread it. This is an odd thing to say having just said that I went back to some old demos and put them on our new record, but those demos were rejected for reasons that I find interesting now. And I don’t feel that we need to play the games we were playing them because we’re so good at writing successfully now, I think.

Something like Cold Reactor, I didn’t labour over it and I knew as soon as it was done, it was great and I knew that would that would carry us through. It allows you to feel a bit more relaxed about creativity rather than ‘Must get that radio single or we’re doomed!’, which obviously is the burning hot coal under our butts most of the time because it’s easy to take that stuff for granted, popular songs, but you’ve got to actually write them and they’ve got to actually be popular otherwise no-one cares. Basically, every album usually comes down to one, two or three songs and if none of them have any interest, then people just go, ‘Did an album even come out?’.

Cold Reactor is a good example of the band right now, it seems to sum up all that’s great about Everything Everything and it’s become this mad radio hit. I know! We’ve watched a lot of friends’ bands struggle in this period we’ve had, 15 years now. There is a tendency to rest on your laurels or try and repeat the thing and it’s very difficult to not do that. Sometimes, I’ve done it myself when I’ve sat down and written a song and then I get to the end of it, I go, ‘Well, we did that better with X song on Arc’ and it’s like, ‘I could do this and our fans will really like it because it sounds just like us, it sounds just like Arc’ and then we’re like ‘No, into the bin with you, let’s try and take that same sensation but do something new with it’. That often comes down to the production. I think if you were to strip all of our songs of their production, then you could probably find something I’ve written now very similar to something I’ve written.

There’s a simplicity to a lot of the songs on the new album, nothing is overloaded and it makes the more outlandish stuff more potent. That’s been a big thing to learn over our careers. You’ve got the ability to do outlandish stuff, and you’ve got these players who can play really well but that isn’t enough to just present all of those things at once and expect people to go, ‘Wow!’. Some of them will, and that’s how we made our name, the prog dads, as we used to call them, that came to our shows in the very early days and just stand there and go, ‘yes, this sounds like Yes!’, and that’s fine. But that I felt like it wasn’t really a challenge. It felt like being a music student still, trying to dazzle each other with complexity and emotion slowly rose through all that and they all just fell away. I was like, ‘No, that is the hardest thing to communicate’ and that’s the challenge. That’s what the greats do is, they get your emotions and you can’t manufacture that and you certainly can’t bamboozle that into people, you have to start with a strong, simple, true, or as close to true as you can manage, emotion and then you can start having fun with it. I think that’s the thing that took us the longest to learn.

Everything Everything’s work has grown more emotional with every record. You’ve got these big concepts around them but that disguises the fact they feel a bit more personal and vulnerable each time… I think that’s what happens to humans. Twenty-three-year-olds are a strange breed to look to for sustenance when it comes to art, there’s a rawness to being that age, it’s an age of discovery. And that stuff is very exciting but there’s no real reason why someone older would create like that or go to that well, it actually gets quite sad when people try to go to that well. Now I’m older and I’m more of an emotional person and I’m less about fireworks and more about volcanoes! I don’t know how to put it, there’s something much deeper now when I create than when I was a young punk.

On that note, rather than me crowbar into an incredibly long question, why don’t you sum up the concept of Mountainhead? It’s extremely simple, a one metaphor fits all type-deal. I knew I wanted to sing about capitalism but not put too fine a point on it. I mean, it’s not a very subtle metaphor. But I knew there were certain elements of it that I wanted to get across, namely the Sisyphean sort of feeling of it being pointless and also, the fact that there’s this trade-off between building the mountain but having to live in the dark, which was a big touchstone for me when I read Capitalist Realism by Mark Fisher, this sense that our lives are getting worse in some ways, that the more we progress we’re becoming more isolated and we’re shutting off large parts of our humanity in the search for this goal of ever expanding and growing our economy and trying to climb the ladder. It’s simple enough that you can’t really fault it, I’m not saying this is exactly how we live, there’s not enough to it for it to fail. It’s something everyone gets straight away.

A lot of the lyrics touch on that theme but which of the songs is the most personal to you that veer away from the concept? Probably The Witness, that’s definitely not really related to the concept. That’s pretty personal. There’s a line in there about this… I shot this bird with an air rifle when I was a kid. I walked into the shed and I saw it, this cute little chaffinch or whatever and it just sat there looking at me and then I picked up the air rifle, I knew where it was and I killed it.

You bastard! I know, I’m telling you this now cos I felt bad, I’m not saying it was a good thing! For some reason that came back to me. During the very early sessions on the album, we’d all gone away somewhere and when we got back, Alex went up to his studio at the top of his house and a pigeon had got into the room and thrashed and thrashed to get back out for four days, there’s like blood all over, feathers everywhere. I was like, ‘Guys, this is a sign… we’re gonna call it The Pigeon!’. Obviously we didn’t but birds do get into it - Canary obviously is a song there - and this thing about that bird and it flew into my head. That’s very personal. But then the rest of the song is about some fucked up stuff that happened to me in the pandemic that haven’t properly been able to talk about in these situations because it’s a bit too personal, basically. A lot of Raw Data Feel was about trying to deal with that as well. I should’ve called it Raw Data Deal. That’s the only moment I’ve given over to that thing on this newest album, the last song. I haven’t actually been able to listen back to it because it makes me too emotional when I think about what it’s really about. But that’s not for public consumption, it’s not needed.

Fair enough. Tell me about the dynamic between the four of you, because that seems like a really important point in your longevity. Apart from a very early line-up change, it’s been the four of you the whole way. Yeah, it’s great. We’ve settled into our roles over the last 15 years. Alex [Robertshaw, guitarist and keyboards] is very much the producer now and by way of that, he’s ended up writing a lot of the guitar and keyboard parts, which I would usually write more of in the past. I’ve become completely consumed by the emotion of getting the message across in the lyrics and stuff like that, as well as obviously writing songs. But in terms of how they sound, I’m less and less involved or concerned, that’s Alex’s playground more. Mike [Spearman, drummer] and Jez [Pritchard, bass] are very good at taste-making. Me and Alex do 98% of the composition and then those guys are much more like, ‘Well, I feel like this is a good way for us to go or this is better than this one,’ things you can’t really tell when you’re the creator and you think everything’s great. They’re also really good at the whole business side of the band, which is the less romantic end but incredibly important. So talking to accountants and they’re having meetings with the labels and Mike’s producing the videos, getting organised, all the stuff that me and Alex being “the creatives” are terrible at because we have the luxury of being terrible at them. Those guys fill in the gaps and they’re really, really good at that. Jez is really good at meeting people and all that kind of shit, so it works really well. You’ve got at least one person covering every possible angle. I’m doing a lot of the visual stuff now. I’m designing a lot of the visual side of the band, basically most things that we’re tweeting or videos is all being done by me. As a unit we could basically do this by ourselves... if someone gave us loads of money, which is how we operate.

My last question is a random one but it’s been on my mind. On Christmas Day, you dug up a four-year-old Liam Gallagher tweet where he called the producer Dave Sardy “Dave Sardine”, and I wanted to know how your Christmas Day mind had been drawn back to that. Haha! Well, when it happened someone tweeted it to me and I thought was funny and I retweeted then. Then recently, I remembered it and I went to see if it was still there. It was and I was like, ‘I’m gonna save that for Christmas Day’ - it wasn’t related to what I was up to. It’s just like, right, ‘Christmas Day, time to tweet my favourite tweet’. It will always be my favourite tweet because it’s how angry he is about Dave Sardine. It’s so good.

The full article is available on substack.

#jonathan higgs #ee #everything everything #the new cue #mountainhead

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theladyofbloodshed · 4 months

Text

SJM Romance Week - Day 5 - Favourite Tropes

@sjmromanceweek

Forced Proximity x Injury Recovery meets Sister Act

Two years. Two long years since Nesta had been given sanctuary by the priestesses in Itica after running from her life from Hybern’s beasts.

Even now, days before the anniversary of hammering on the doors with her bloodied hands, she remembered the thundering of her heart as she was herded by monsters. Remembered the soul-wrenching fear that kept her bare feet pounding across the rough stone even as it tore open her skin. She bore the scars from that day. Her feet had been in ruins. Her hands even worse.

On that night, her slumber had come to an abrupt end. A soft voice had whispered that she must open her eyes and when she did, a knife was plunging for her chest. If she’d not stamped on her instincts year after year, her magic would have flared out of her. It had spent too long locked away, so like a beaten animal, it was too afraid to emerge. Nesta had wrapped her hands around the blade, its kiss agonising. She didn’t know how many soldiers had burnt their way through the village, how many lives they’d ended. Nesta had leapt from the window, bones cracking on the impact and ran. Ran and ran and ran.

The Mother had always favoured her, people said. They were comments that she’d laughed at. Everybody wanted to be favoured by the Mother but it was another thing to truly be blessed by her. But that night, Nesta did not know how she could have survived without a soft, maternal hand pushing her along.

In two years, she hadn’t become a believer. Despite the gratitude she felt towards the priestesses and the acolytes for granting her sanctuary, despite whatever kindness the Mother had offered her, Nesta wasn’t moved by religion. She wore their garb - pristine white robes with a hood that covered her hair - and joined them for prayers as was expected of her, but Nesta still couldn’t muster her faith.

It couldn’t go on like this, she knew, hiding forever amongst the priestesses. One day, the world would remember Nesta Archeron, the girl who stole from the Cauldron and come looking for her to tear her heart from her chest and repair what was taken.

***

Another dead end. From the whispers and foreign tongues that they had managed to gather across the centuries, the feet of the Cauldron were hidden in temples.

Azriel and Rhys had sat with Amren for hours, collating information, trying to narrow down the search. Prythian was littered with temples. As was the Continent. And Hybern. They ruled out temples that had been built since the war, which only eliminated a handful. It was Azriel’s task to sweep through as many as they could, starting with ones they had associations with, no matter how weak they were. The words were too precious to put in a letter. Every night, he’d winnow to a new location then return at dawn to cross it off on their map. Each night, their disappointment grew.

‘Where to next?’

Amren drummed her painted fingernails on the table. ‘Hybern. It would make sense if all three feet were on a different piece of land. One for the Continent. One for Prythian. One for Hybern.’

Azriel raised his brows. ‘Are you sentencing me to my death?’

‘Don’t get caught, Spymaster.’

Once darkness fell, Azriel was away. A different tactic was needed for Hybern. He’d hit up as many temples as he could in an area lest word spread that he was spotted flying there night after night.

It was bitterly cold in Itica. Snow had already blanketed the craggy ground before winter had truly arrived. He tread lightly, flying as often as he could despite the pummel of wind. The first temple did not allow him entry because he was male. The second was made up of only males but when Azriel made excuses that he wanted to pray, he was followed. If the feet were here, his shadows would be trailed by the priests. The third and fourth temple were also a bust, but more and more attention was being shown to him although it was late into the night.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end even before he’d winnowed to the fifth temple of the night. If Azriel hadn’t been so committed to finding the feet, he’d have listened to his instincts and not bothered going.

As soon as he landed, the armed guards stood on the brass doors of the temple outside moved.

At the same moment his shadows enveloped him again, an arrow hit him in the wing. He felt the sting of ash sear through his blood. He could only get a short distance away and the guards were coming. Again, he winnowed. Again, another arrow sailed through the black sky, this time piercing his leg. Amongst a volley of arrows, his shadows swooped around him, taking him as far as they could whilst his magic was nullified. Another hit him, sinking deep into the flesh of his shoulder. In the distance, he could just make out another temple carved into stone. His wings and his shadows did all they could to get him there despite the pain racking his body.

***

Poppea’s rough wake up left Nesta shaking. It had brought back too many memories of that night.

‘Come. Quickly.’

Nesta donned her garb, pulling the hood up and over her hair. It was still pitch-black outside so it had to be an emergency. That was not good news. She dreaded running again. She’d spent so much of her life running.

The temple was quiet. A peaceful sort of quiet. The great, metal basin at its centre remained blazing with more candles flickering in their silver candelabras around the prayer room.

At a statue to the Mother which was veiled, Poppea paused.

‘There is a male here.’

‘He cannot be,’ replied Nesta, well-accustomed to their sacred vows even if she had never said them.

‘He is a male I recognise – a good male. Yasmeen has used what little healing power she has to stabilise him, but you are more learned in such matters.’

‘Healing?’

Poppea frowned, the deep etchings of her face worsening from the motion. ‘Males.’

At that, Nesta’s own brows drew together. Poppea had made it clear that Nesta's rude, uncouth behaviour had no business in her temple over the last two years. Often, she'd been sent to bed without supper for snorting during prayer or for cursing when she dropped an item. Now she was flaunting Nesta's history.

The high priestess cleared her throat. ‘Many of these females have never known a life beyond these walls. They have few memories of the fathers that gave them away. Many have vivid memories of the males that hurt them.’ Poppea rested a hand on Nesta’s shoulder. ‘The Mother brought you here for a purpose. Perhaps this is it.’

With support from the other acolytes present during the night, Nesta was ushered into the tunnel running beneath the statue armed with supplies. Yasmeen offered strict instructions on how to take care of the male. As the statue was moved back into place, she followed the glow of lights at the bottom of the sloping stairs to find her way. Nesta knew the route well. She had spent three weeks beneath the ground when she had first arrived because it was the only place that could guarantee protection and privacy.

On one of the beds, a male with massive, leathery wings was asleep although the slumber did not seem peaceful. Sweat beaded his brow despite the relatively cool temperature under the ground. Blood stained his skin. A hole was punctured into his right wing. His clothes had been cut away by Yasmeen and an arrow removed from his shoulder. It would scar through the intricate whorls of obsidian ink on his upper body. Yasmeen seemed to have balked at removing his trousers so had sliced up the length, leaving them flapping open all the way to his thigh where another arrow had likely hit him.

Nesta knelt down beside him and pushed his sweat-soaked dark hair from his tan skin. The moment she looked at him, she felt like she’d found something that had been lost forever, like he had been missing from her life until that moment.

‘Who are you?’

She ran a thumb over his brow, the skin burning beneath.

Whilst following Yasmeen’s instructions to clean and bind the wounds on his body, the judder of boots above her head had Nesta stilling. She remembered this moment. The absolute soul-gripping fear of discovery. How the gentle priestesses had the courage to look Hybern’s soldiers in the eyes and lie would always amaze her. For now, they hadn’t crossed that line in sieging a temple because their fear of the Mother held them back.

The male jerked away, hand reaching for his sheath which was now empty of its blade. Despite the pain, his eyes fixed on Nesta. Hurriedly, she bared her palms to him then pointed to the ceiling where the rough, low voices of the males seeped through. She pressed a finger to her lips.

He glanced down at the bandages she’d been winding around his thigh then relaxed slightly, recognising that she was not a threat. In a terse silence, Nesta continued Yasmeen’s instruction while they both listened keenly to any shift in the conversation above.

***

This female was enchanting.

Azriel had lost blood. Could still feel the ash coursing through his body. He ought to have been terrified of being found, of bringing death to this temple, but all thoughts emptied at the sight of this beautiful female dabbing the wound on his shoulder, silver eyes focused on his injury. She had an elegant, classic beauty – one that seemed criminal to hide away in a temple.

She grazed her knuckle along the bone of his wing and that motion had him biting down on the flesh of his palm.

‘Painful?’

Azriel shook his head. ‘Sensitive.’

‘I need to clean the wound.’ She added, ‘I’ll be gentle.’

That was almost worse, he thought. Azriel could feel every languid touch, every soft breath as she leaned close to the membrane. Her concentration had her lips pursing slightly, making her all the more enticing to look at.

Once the noise had died down, Azriel tried to stand but the female pressed a hand against his bare chest to keep him on the mattress. She was more forward, more physical than he knew acolytes to be when it came to males.

When she had finished, she carried a basket over to the bed. Inside were robes of differing sizes, all pristine white, and Truth-Teller rested on top. He felt better knowing the blade’s location.

‘How long must I remain here?’

She shrugged. ‘The priestesses risked their lives to keep you safe.’

Azriel bowed his head. ‘I’m grateful.’

‘Good,’ she replied, fighting a smirk from her lips. ‘And to answer your question, I was down here for three weeks when I arrived.’

Three fucking weeks?

Azriel doubted he’d make to morning before he was climbing the walls. Already, he was shaking his uninjured leg as the realisation that he was trapped in here settled in.

‘Are you going to do that all night?’

The female was staring at his jiggling leg, disgust curling her upper lip.

‘Who are you?’

‘Company for the foreseeable future,’ she replied. ‘There’s a small alcove back here with food for emergencies. Take what you need. There’s also a bucket that will be emptied when its safe for somebody up there to move the statue.’ She sucked in a breath. ‘Since you’ve bloodied up that bed, I will sleep in this one.’

Was he supposed to just fall asleep after being shot at by Hybern’s soldiers? Trust that these priestesses wouldn’t betray him or the soldiers wouldn’t come back and slaughter their way through the temple? The ash was still suffocating his magic preventing winnowing, preventing Rhys from reaching out with his mind.

‘What’s your name?’ The female was sizing him up like an apex predator.

‘Azriel.’

She gave a slow nod in response. ‘Poppea recognised you.’

The name wasn’t familiar. Azriel gave a shrug. ‘Where I live, we have a sanctuary for females who have been injured – similar to this temple. I help females find their way there.’

‘A hero,’ she said, not hiding her sarcasm.

Fine. That line had worked numerous times, but not on a priestess it seemed.

‘Your name?’

‘Nesta.’

As soon as she said it, her expression froze. A misspeak. She smiled tightly, the light not meeting her eyes.

‘Well, I was woken to be your nursemaid. I shall return to sleep.’

***

It took some tossing and turning, but Nesta eventually fell asleep. She had been hyperaware of the male definitely not sleeping in the bed opposite. There had been a lot of grunting from pain as he sloped off to the pantry then she’d spied him in the largest white robes they had to offer, with slashes in the back to force his wings through.

It was Azriel who woke her with his pacing like a caged beast. He dragged his injured leg across the floor and his wings rustled as he fought to keep them upright with the injury to his shoulder.

‘You need to rest your leg,’ she snapped.

‘I can’t be in here.’

Nesta sat up in the bed, her hood discarded in favour of comfort. ‘You have no choice. Get in the bed.’

If this male had a tail, it would be lashing. He stood at the foot of the stairs, staring up at the darkened tunnel.

Gritting her teeth to keep from yelling – her prickly nature never quashed by soft prayer – Nesta stormed across the room and dragged him by the hand back into bed. The skin beneath her fingers was odd, deeply set in some places or smooth in others. In the dim light, she could not make it out fully. She released his hand and pointed to the bed. ‘In there.’

‘Have they sent the most ferocious priestess to guard me?’

No, Nesta was on her final warning. She refused to say her vows, refused to commit herself to the Mother until her dying moments because she had to believe there could be more to her life. She’d not kerbed her bad habits; she still cursed, still blasphemed, still drifted elsewhere during services when the others sang. Poppea had made it very clear that staying was a curtsey if she was to remain a guest and it could be easily taken away.

‘Yes, I’ll smother you if you wake me up for a third time tonight,’ she replied shortly, before climbing back into her own bed.

‘It’s difficult for me to be here,’ Azriel said.

Nesta gave a short laugh. ‘Do you think any of us would choose to be here?’

Few of these females had dreamed of being the unwanted daughter given to the Mother because they served no other purpose or saying holy vows that committed them to the temple for eternity because they had nowhere else to go.

‘It’s different.’ Azriel eased himself back into bed with a groan. ‘I spent my childhood locked in a dungeon. I never planned to be locked up again.’

‘Nobody does,’ replied Nesta as she pulled the blankets up and over her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry that happened to you, but the females in this temple have risked their lives to keep you here. As soon as the soldiers aren’t watching the doors – and when your magic allows – nobody will stop you from leaving.’

In the morning, he was in a deep sleep. Nesta could hear his low snore as she opened her eyes. When she moved from her bed, he did not stir. She idled her time reading the book of prayers kept in the bunker for lost souls, not believing much of it. Faith was a strange concept to her. She’d grown up amongst mortals, her mother one, and they didn’t set much store in higher powers, not when the fae ruled their lives. Her sire – whoever he was – had to be fae for Nesta’s powers to be so great. They’d flared out of her one day when the soldiers came to the village to capture more slaves to be chattel for their army. Nesta couldn’t take the screams. Her magic had erupted in cold, silver flames that devoured. Since that day, Nesta spent her whole life running, never staying in a place more than a moon.

She perched on the edge of the bed near the male who was blanketed by shadows. They parted for her to press a hand to his forehead. The skin beneath burnt fiery. An infection had settled into his body during the night and she had slept through everything.

When the statue was removed for fresh water and food, she called for Yasmeen.

‘She is afraid to be here,’ replied Athilea. ‘You know what happened to her.’

‘This male is unconscious.’

Yasmeen would not go below again, but provided more tinctures and fresh muslin cloth to rebind his wounds.

‘The soldiers?’

Athilea nodded. ‘Still there. Still waiting.’

The male’s sleep was uninterrupted by the exchange. When Nesta returned to Azriel, shadows coiled around her wrist as she worked. It was wasteful to cut away his robes but she didn’t know how else to reach his shoulder. At Azriel’s nudity, she averted her eyes upwards and adjusted the thick, woollen blanket across his lower body. Nesta had seen males before. It was one of the hardest parts to give up when she entered the temple.

The wound on his shoulder was angry and swollen, the skin red around the entry. As she cleaned it, he stirred slightly with an incomprehensible murmur then a hand landed on her thigh.

Nesta spoke to him softly, explaining what she was doing in case a part of him could hear. His shadows were happy to curl onto her shoulders like little birds observing too.

For longer than she should, Nesta remained wedged onto a sliver of the mattress with him, a hand stroking against his black hair as she sang the few hymns she’d learned during her time in the temple. He was handsome, she decided. Too handsome. The sort of face she’d have made hers in a dingy tavern. The kind of face she’d want to wrap her thighs around.

Azriel blinked himself into consciousness, eyes adjusting to the dim light Nesta’s bobbing faelight offered. Could he have sensed those thoughts she’d just had? Surely not.

‘You were unwell,’ she stammered to explain why she cradled his head and had been caressing his soft hair for the last hour.

Azriel pushed an elbow against the bed to lift himself, teeth clenching together from the pain. ‘Were you singing?’

His shadows snapped between them, hiding her blushes. He waved a hand through the blockade, scattering them. ‘They don’t usually do that.’

‘I don’t usually sing,’ she countered.

‘Must be the effect I have on you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I mean, I’m a shadowsinger.’

‘I gathered,’ she replied, pressing her lips together. It was fairly obvious from the blanket of shadows that stayed with him, but she’d let him keep his mystique. ‘You have an infection. It will require regular cleaning.’

‘Am I naked?’

Her blush deepened, turning the apples of her cheek crimson. Nesta tried and failed to speak, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. No man had ever found issue with her undressing him before.

A brow rose. ‘A nude male doesn’t affect the gentle disposition of a priestess?’

It had been a long, long time since Nesta had seen a naked male but not a single one had looked like this male with his face carved by the Mother’s hands or his powerful body. And those wings. It had been such an effort to keep her hands from those but she’d seen the effects they’d had on him yesterday when she cleaned the blood away.

She flicked his cheek, sending him back down onto the mattress. ‘I’m not a priestess. I haven’t said any vows. I was like you once with no place to go but the Mother’s arms. Your nudity is no cause for alarm.’

***

This female had to have been sent by the Mother herself. She was gentle with his wounds, diligent and compassionate, but she had a sharp tongue which was at odds with that gorgeous face. The notion that she had not yet committed herself to a lifetime of servitude to religion sparked something in his chest that he was trying to extinguish. Nesta did not need him panting after her. But gazing at her provided an alternative to spiralling in worry about being beneath the ground with no escape route.

As the days wore on, they became more companionable with each other. Still, his wounds needed tending to thanks to the ash making them heal as if he was mortal. Nesta was devoted in this. She cared for him as though it was her calling in life. Day and night his wounds were left to air in between bandage changes and she’d clean each one before. It could have been his imagination but Azriel was sure her fingers lingered longer than they needed to on his thigh. Once, she even ran a tender finger against the whorl of his tattoo. It had been damaged from the arrow but it could be re-inked in Illyria. Nesta enquired about their origins then listened intently as he spoke of Illyria.

'You came from there, but they aren't your people?'

Azriel swallowed, the knot in his throat pulling tighter. He wanted to tell her everything - about his beginning, his father, his mother, learning to fly - but Nesta was a stranger. A stranger who felt as familiar to him as his reflection.

'No. I have family but we aren't bonded by blood.'

There was no news from Rhysand. He had to hope it was due to the nullifying effects of the ash. Either that or they thought him dead or in enemy’s clutches so had gone silent.

There were still soldiers making the rounds but not as frequent so as soon as his magic returned, Azriel could leave. They'd strike when a blind eye was turned to the temple so he could pass the threshold and winnow. Ancient magic was imbued into the building's foundations preventing winnowing inside the walls.

He almost didn’t want to leave. What would his evenings be without Nesta dragging her bed close to his and playing cards or word games to pass the time? She had no fear around him – almost seemed to relish his company despite spending her life in this temple. The females that he’d ushered into the library were reluctant to be around him, their fear of males deeply rooted. This one had moved her bed alongside his for their games then ended up sleeping just inches from him ever since. Each night, Azriel wanted to close the gap and reach out for her slender hand. Sometimes Nesta's reached out to the end of the bed, daring him to hold it.

‘I think you’re cheating,’ she murmured, peering at her hand of cards. Nesta was cross-legged on the bed, hood pulled down. They wore the same virginal white robes but they suited her. Cassian would laugh himself hoarse if he could see Azriel in his.

Azriel let out a low chuckle. ‘It’s my shadows. I didn’t ask them to spy.’

Nesta dropped her cards on his lap. ‘Dirty cheaters.’

‘You dealt a dodgy hand yesterday, bending the aces. I saw you.’

She shrugged both shoulders. ‘No idea what you’re talking about. False accusations.’ She pressed her hands together in prayer. 'I am a devotee of the Mother.'

‘How does a soon-to-be-priestess know so many card games – and how to cheat?’

‘I told you,’ she replied, ‘I’m not a priestess. I had a life before but I was given shelter here two years ago and never left. I've visited enough taverns to know how to play and how to cheat.’ Nesta held out a hand for a shadow to sit upon. ‘I spent my whole life running. I could catch my breath here, but it’s not my forever. I just don’t know where to go next.’

‘What are you running from?’

‘The King of Hybern.’ Nesta swept her hair away from the top of her ears. They were curved like his, but he’d have sworn she was high fae. ‘My mother was mortal. I was raised by mortals. But I wasn’t like them.’ With her free hand, she let silver flames crawl across it. Azriel flinched, expecting heat, but could only feel a seeping coldness. ‘I escaped his dungeon and have been running ever since.’

The flames died out, sputtering with sparks as Nesta banked her power. He couldn’t imagine looking over a shoulder all the time, never settling, never building bonds. Azriel didn't want to think about what she'd endured at the King's hands. Hell, how had she even escaped?

This was a female who’d had her choices taken from her. She’d chosen safety over desire but that need to be immersed in life still blazed within.

Azriel didn’t know if it was the right thing, but he said, ‘I know a place you could go. A library. It’s safe and secret.’

‘I’d have to be there forever?’

No. He imagined her dancing with him at Starfall on the roof beneath a sky of stars falling for only them. Cheating at cards alongside him to drive Cassian wild. Shopping with Mor as they explored the boutiques of Velaris and showing him what she’d bought. Curling her head against his chest at Solstice when they were full of food and joy. Mostly, Azriel imagined her beside him like they were here, beneath the ground.

‘You can be in my city. It would be safe. Hybern would never find you.’

From her expression, Azriel knew she doubted him. He clutched her hand, the shadow scarpering. ‘I promise you this: I would keep you safe.’

‘You arrived here with three arrows sticking out of you,’ she reminded him.

‘Trust me.’

‘I don’t know you,’ she said, voice dropping to a whisper.

Azriel pressed her hand to his heart to feel the steady beating of it beneath. ‘You have the rest of your life to know me.’

#nezriel #sjm romance week

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cosmic-metanoia · 5 months

Text

The Abhorrent Mother

***Major Spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI***

Calling Anabella the "devil" or a "bitch" sounds like a term of endearment rather than an insult. There are no words that accurately embody this woman. In my book, she wins the award for the most evil villainess which shows just how well-written she was! But it did get me thinking...in addition to the countless atrocities she committed, could it also be because she shatters the stereotype of the sacrificing and caring mother? Do we perceive her as more evil because of that?

In many cultures and religions, mothers are depicted as being soft, feminine, caring, unconditionally loving, and sacrificing for the betterment of their children and families. The character archetype of an "evil father" exists but that typically is more well-received.

When it comes to Anabella, it's as if she is the ultimate sacrilege of the pregnant mother who carries, gives birth, and loves her children dearly. Normally, with her attitude, we expect the classic "evil stepmother" archetype in full blossom. Clearly that is not the case here. I recall how some folks in the FFXVI discussion forums were waiting for the big reveal that she was indeed NOT Clive and/or Joshua's mother - because how could someone so evil give birth to two righteous sons? Turns out nope - she was, indeed, their biological mother through the bitter end!

If she was just an evil stepmother, that would have been incredibly commonplace and trite - making her their actual mother made her all the more impactful. Afterall, evil comes in all forms.

I also read that a few people had hoped she would get a redemption arc. I'm glad she didn't. And I'm glad that her and Clive never reconciled. She was too far gone and the years of verbal and emotional abuse could not be forgiven by Clive, Jill, and others. She betrayed her family, her nation, her people and started a chain reaction that altered history all to obtain more power, more riches, and an "upgrade" to her future royal bloodline.

When Bahamut/Dion killed the Emperor, sacked Twinside, and killed Olivier, all that she had built was ripped from her within minutes. (Also, notice how she did not even think to herself 'Hmm....why is there no blood or body?' after Olivier dissolved away into thin air upon being stabbed through. )

At her end, she had nothing left but to face the consequences of her actions. And I could only imagine that seeing her beloved Joshua whom she thought was dead drove the fear of some divine retribution right into her.

Personally that scene really hurt to watch - how Joshua was the last person to offer her his hand when no one else would. But that speaks more to who he is as a person. To be fair, the last time he saw his mother was when he was 10 years old and he was the one person she showed a shred of decency albeit because he was the Phoenix. Otherwise, she would have tossed him aside like she did Clive.

When she frantically swiped her blade at him and cut him in her madness, I thought, "Yep...time for her to go! How dare she hurt our beloved birb?!"I also thought it fitting that in the moment of escaping accountability, she died by her own hand. It was heartbreaking to see Joshua witness yet another parent's death right before his eyes. Clive and Jill looked away in pity for her.

She could have been the mother of not one but two Dominants and be remembered in history for that. But she threw away her family happily with both hands.

The lesson here - "some of the most poisonous people to walk the earth come in the form of family." Sure, people do deserve forgiveness depending on what their actions were but there are rare times when a so-called redemption arc is not earned and not deserved.

One final lesson is that as a child, you have the power to be different from a horrible parent and that fact is glorious.

#ff16 #ffxvi #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi #ff16 joshua #ffxvi joshua #joshua rosfield #anabella rosfield #ffxvi spoilers #ff16 spoilers #final fantasy xvi spoilers

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scribefindegil · 6 months

Note

HI I LOVED the new chapter- can you talk about Serizawa a little bit? Is it that his anxiety is fending off the effects of the broccoli since he wanted to take Tsubomi’s request immediately or is it that Reigen’s behavior is reminding him of Suzuki and he doesn’t like that? He’s very interesting to me in this situation

(Also the way Reigen’s anger and panic is what finally tipped him over to Remembering because the brainwash is overcome by strong emotions- just So Good)

I'm so glad you liked the chapter!!

Serizawa's super interesting here because he's VERY susceptible to what Dimple calls "the passion of the masses;" I sometimes see speculation that he would have resisted the power of the broccoli because his psychic powers are so strong, but I think this is a bad read. Serizawa cares a lot about fitting into society, and he often doesn't feel like he has enough lived experience to trust his own judgment. Divine Tree takes place only a month or so after World Domination, so he's very much still adjusting to living on his own, and while he's starting to make his own decisions, he has a tendency to look to authority--Mob, Reigen, the business books his mom gave him--to provide structure and guidance. So when suddenly everyone in the city is exerting huge social pressure to care about the Divine Tree and the Psycho Helmet Religion, he's going to be swept along in that. His anxiety, rather than protecting him, just makes him more susceptible.

So why doesn't he speak up in defense of the Psycho Helmet Religion earlier in the chapter? Because of Reigen. I wanted to follow through with the way that Reigen's brainwashing manifests in canon; instead of becoming an outright devotee of the broccoli, the mind control just makes him complacent. He stops seeing the Divine Tree and its cultists as the threat that they are, and instead sees them as just a bunch of people having harmless fun. Nothing to worry about. And this is terrifying to me in its own way and makes him incapable of taking Tsubomi seriously when she shows up, but it also means that one of Serizawa's main authority figures has been advocating for complacency instead of devotion. That's why I included this bit:

Reigen grins. Gotcha. “But I don’t even like the Psycho Helmet Religion!” he says. “I’ve been complaining about how little business we’ve been getting now that everyone’s off having fun with the broccoli, haven’t I Serizawa?”

So basically before Tsubomi's visit, Serizawa's been sort of happily floating in a state where he just accepts what's going on in Seasoning City and doesn't really think about it. Both the societal pressure of everyone else in the city and the authorial pressure of Reigen are telling him that this is nothing to concern himself with. He's been made to forget Mob along with everyone else, and while he's probably aware on some level that something's missing, it's easy not to think about it. Not to worry about it. Not to worry about anything.

And then this girl shows up.

And Serizawa defers to Reigen during consultations. He's still learning. Reigen is so much more knowledgeable than him, so much more experienced.

But they're supposed to be helping people. He took this job because he wants to help people. He's not going to simply defer to authority if that authority is cruel; that's exactly what he was trying to get away from. And so when Reigen gets mean and sharp and dismissive, that, more than anything that Tsubomi is saying, is what gets Serizawa to push back. And once he refuses to blindly listen to Reigen, he also starts to break away from the influence of the Divine Tree.

The climax of this chapter is very deliberately evocative of both Separation Arc and World Domination. Reigen acts in a way that reminds Serizawa of Suzuki, and he refuses to accept that, and it makes him remember the first person who told him that he could have relationships that weren't just built on deference and fear. And Serizawa's refusal to back down reminds Reigen of Mob, and that makes him realize what he's doing, and instead of continuing down the path of control and denial he stops and decide that he isn't going to repeat his old mistakes.

#heretic au #mp100 #it's about Mob haunting everyone in this narrative #and also about The Themes!!#the patterns of control seen in the cults--Claw as well as the Psycho Helmet Religion #are the same dynamics seen in the unhealthy interpersonal relationships just writ large #and so when Serizawa rejects Reigen's manipulative behavior that also allows him to reject the Divine Tree's #and when Reigen is forced to acknowledge his own manipulative behavior instead of living in denial #he's also forced to acknowledge what the Psycho Helmet Religion is doing and that it's an active threat.

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florallylly · 20 days

Text

side b: steve harrington

side a side a: eddie munson

side b

explanation post

FORGET THE FORMATTING!!! PLS BE QUIET!!! anyways into steve harrington. his playlist is SAUR bubblegum lesbian pop. and tbh i really tried to kind of blend new/old in side a with eddie and make it smth MAYBE he would listen to? but steve, i automatically pegged him as 80s pop and lesbian music like. you probably listen to bruce springsteen but in my heart u know who rina sawayama is. anyways yes steve harrington coping through partying and then falling in lurv.

YES he admits it as soon as it happens bc he's emotionally intelligent and he knows himself thank u for coming to my ted talk

“Perfect Places” Lorde; “Have another drink, get lost in us/this is how we get notorious” “Every night, I live and die/meet somebody, take ‘em home” YEAH…. steve harrington coping post season-2 and stancy break up by partying and drinking and sleeping around. like i see it…. i was there and it’s so. desperation to find peace and eventually settling for oblivion bc nothing is better than everything

“Heaven/Hell” CHVRCHES; this song is so steve harrington to me i can’t even describe…. like it’s so disillusionment with his former sense of self and what he used to attach importance to. and he feels like a fraud and also an imposter, surrounded by people who he’s outgrown. and somehow it also feels like no one has truly realized that vital shift. it’s SAUR “is it right if i’m a perfect actress/playing the princess in distress?” “is it alright if i save myself and/if i clean up my own mess” IDK. why is that so steve to me.

“Stand Back” Stevie Nicks; like LIKE this song is so everyone wants me except for you/you’re the only one i want. idk…. steve harrington this is so you to me. he is so pining he is so what if he is so i built our future in my head and now everything is crumbling down around me. you have changed me so deeply that i can never go back to the same person i was before i met you. and the world around me stays stagnant and stuck in time, with me out like a sore thumb. like i’m sobbing crying frothing at the mouth….

“Head Over Heels/Broken” Tears for Fears; a classic… a classic… but also like a little mashup moment to make it narratively appropriate in my head. also the applause at the end is giving the curtains are down the performance is over… king steve lays down his crown… AM I INSANE IN THIS MOMENT…

“Honey Understand” Noso; to me this is a little bit of a moment like if i’m misinterpreting this song wrong SO embarrassing. but literally?? i think it’s so steve… bc it’s like in any break up it’s always going to be him at fault because he’s the ladies man and the popular jerk. he’s always going to be made out to be a villain in certain people’s eyes. like what am i even saying but you get it right… and it’s like how can i even keep fighting when i’m already crumbling apart. but also you’ll never know bc i’ll never let anyone know how bad it is … i’m unwell

“Deliverance” CHVRCHES; i think this is actually about religion (maybe?) but i’m thinking of it as more of a general framework or life view that steve held before the upside down. he’s had to rethink what’s important and what matters like fr…. and now that he’s spending more time with eddie and realizing things about… naur it’s like this moment is his watershed moment and he’s being set free of smth like… his king steve persona?? his guilt over barb?? any other head canon ??? or maybe it’s like his fucked up coping viewed as something that’s bringing him back to his “normal” self… like back 2 parties back 2 alcoholism

“Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight” ABBA; like YEAH of course this song is on here. and it’s so hello steve harrington are you on the prowl are you looking for something so you can actually feel something

“Take Me Home Tonight” Eddie Money; pretty self explanatory like… steve harrington you are turning to sex to distract yourself and chasing the way you felt before. also in comparison to gimme gimme gimme, this is a more self aware reflection like. post nut clarity. but also in my head this is steve harrington meeting with eddie munson s2 and making the impulsive decision to follow him literally anywhere, kick starting everything that follows.

“Yours” Now, Now; attraction bantering cockiness like it’s all there like it’s everything… it’s everything….

“Untouched” The Veronicas, I DON’T CARE IF IT DOESN’T FIT … this song is so important to me and it’s saur…. steve harrington you are getting attached steve harrington you are falling in love. to be clear this is before they get together or do anything like…. this is the pining this is the wanting

“Don’t You Want Me” The Human League; so basically added for vibes, didn’t pay much attention to the lyrics and meaning. IT’S JUST SO …. 80s pop and 80s pop is so steve. HOWEVER i feel like i can use this as my little soap box bc “you were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar… turned you int someone new/now five years later on, you’ve got the world at your feet” is saur nancy and “the five years we have had have been such good at times, I still love you/ but now, i think it’s time i lived my life on my own” is SAUR steve. like nancy wheeler in s4 reflecting on steve’s changes and the fandom’s reflection of pushing this narrative that nancy was the main reason and the greatest influence on steve’s change. my pet peeve…. let’s not forget the trauma he went through that could have shook his entire worldview. also ??? he’s a big boy with his own thoughts let him have a little ponder. i would add more but i’m not capable of totally explaining this at all JUST !!! ugh but yeah steve harrington you are attracted to eddie munson song

“Forever Tonight” Kelechi; “love me like there’s no tomorrow/kiss me like we’re out of time” DO I EVEN NEED TO SAY ANYTHING??? I AM IN REAL PAIN!!!

“I Was Made For Lovin’ You” KISS; KEYSTONE SONG. yes they fucked yes they fucked. and OKAY idc if it’s cheesy YOU try to fit in a semi-metal song into your 80s/lesbian pop playlist

“Lay All Your Love On Me” ABBA; OMG …. it is so necessary. that is all. LIKE SO NEEDED.

“Hungry Eyes” Eric Carmen; it’s literally from dirty dancing like what else can i say… steve harrington is having his little romcom moment. honestly he’s practically one of the brat pack. he’s LIVING it he’s living it

“Keep on Loving You” REO Speedwagon; okay they were killing on anniversaries i just know it. like this is so my parent’s wedding. it’s so puffed sleeve dresses and slow dancing at prom and steve is a ROMANTIC. steve is a ROMANTIC in a small midwest town like. where was his prom king moment

“Seven Wonders” Fleetwood Mac; lowkey a filler song but yes can anything compare to the beauty of this moment something very romantic. this is on the mixtape for sure

“(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” Blue Oyster Cult; ONCE AGAIN I KNOW IT DOESNT FIT THAT WELL… but this is a keystone song… a metal song forcefully inserted into the playlist. this is supposed to mark the point where steve falls in love love. but what i got from the song is basically like. we’re going to die anyways let’s just fall in love. i’m sure that’s way simplistic but vibe…

“Horses” Maggie Rogers; sorry I’m…. gay….? and it’s like it’s like it’s like i wanna be free i wanna be free with you do you wanna be free with me. in a more romantic and AHHHH way but like how do i even begin to try and describe how this song makes me feel like… unreal. but it’s also like a little stop for steve to doubt and think about what he’s feeling and deciding to do ??? idk where i was going with that. but yes my little interlude for pondering

“Black Butterflies and Deja Vu (Acoustic)” The Maine; keystone song keystone song. when steve admits he is in lurv of course. chose the acoustic version bc i feel like it fits better and also i think it’s more of a soft realization for steve rather than the absolute car wreck that is eddie. please understand my thoughts immediately

#AGAIN typed in my notes app #have mercy please #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things

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monsterblogging · 2 months

Text

So like, the kaiju cultists of Pacific Rim interest me quite a lot, because religions and cults and all that are things that interest me. I need you to understand this first and foremost.

Because.

*deep breath*

*sobs*

The kaiju prayer in the novelization is. Um.

Well...

It's complete and utter nonsense. Total garble. Completely incoherent.

What do I mean? Well...

So, here's the kaiju prayer written by Alex Irvine for the Pacific Rim novelization:

We are the sisters of the kaiju.

We open our arms to receive the angels of the ocean.

Majestic creatures from beyond our horizons, deliver us from suffering and strike the evil from our hearts.

You are mercenaries on a mission of mercy, come to free humanity from a poisoned home. With almighty powers, you stir our oceans and steal our skies.

O kaiju kings, lead us down into your paradise below the seas and vanquish all who oppose your supreme reign.

Look how you crucify our false prophets, man-made tyrants who fear what they do not understand. You are not the scourge. You are the salvation.

We fall to our knees in your infinite shadow and raise our hands in awe and admiration.

Let the blue blood of the archangels wash away our iniquity that we may start life anew in the world before…

On a broad level, this aligns with Travis Beacham's statement about BuenaKai following an apocalyptic theology and believing the kaiju are here to wash our sins away.

But when you look closer, you can see that the kaiju are referred to as angels, archangels, kings, and mercenaries. Angels/archangels, mercenaries, and kings are very different things, and only one of these actually makes sense.

It should be pretty damned obvious to anyone ever that whatever the kaiju are, they are not kings. Kings wouldn't be out here attacking cities and getting nuked or beaten to death by Jaegers.

Mercenaries is also a strange word to throw into this whole mess, because a mercenary is a soldier for hire. It's both incompatible with king and angel/archangel.

Angel/archangel is the only one that makes any kind of sense. This one actually does align with information in the film, where Hannibal Chau says that the cultists believe the kaiju are "sent by the gods." (And given that Chau sells kaiju bits across the street from a kaiju church, it's reasonable to think he's probably not too off in this description.)

Something that's kinda weird is the "majestic creatures from beyond our horizons" bit. Literally everybody knows they come from the bottom of the sea, and this knowledge is definitely attributed to the BuenaKai cultists in this prayer.

And then there's this line:

Look how you crucify our false prophets, man-made tyrants who fear what they do not understand.

Dear god there's a lot to unpack here.

Like. "False prophet" is probably the the most inept insult Irvine could've come up with, and betrays a severe lack of knowledge in how any Christian or Christian-adjacent spiritual worldview actually works. Like for all of the ridiculous demonization religious extremists get up to, they don't just call anything and everything they don't like a "false prophet." This only happens in hack writing where the writer only knows a few basic Christian cliches.

Same goes for "crucify." The kaiju are not doing any crucifying. The word is only here because it's a Christian cliche. You could have just said "slay," Alex. It's also in the Bible.

"Man-made tyrants who fear what they do not understand" is also bizarre. Wouldn't the "tyrants who fear what they do not understand" be the people who built the Jaegers, not the Jaegers themselves?

Again, I have researched some of the most unhinged spiritual movements on the goddamn planet (Love Has Won, anyone?), and none of them are this incoherent.

So I've decided to rewrite this prayer into something coherent, that also reflects the existence of BuenaKai monks:

We are the brothers and sisters of the kaiju.

We open our arms to receive the angels of the ocean.

Majestic creatures from the world below, deliver us from suffering and strike the evil from our hearts.

You are warriors of mercy, sent to free us from our poisoned home. Your almighty strength stirs our oceans. Your sacred majesty occludes our skies.

O mighty archangels, show us the righteous way that shall lead us to life everlasting in the world to come. Vanquish all who oppose your holy wrath.

Look how you strike down our proud works, look how you have slain the Jaegers and crushed the Wall. You are scourge to the tyrant and salvation to the faithful.

We fall to our knees and raise our hands to thank the Holy Ones who have sent you.

In your death even is victory; your sacred blood cleanses the world of man's sin, to prepare the world for life anew.

#pacific rim #pacific rim 2013 #buenakai #kaiju cultists

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moonfeatherblue · 2 months

Text

BEFORE I FORGET AGAIN here are all the notes from our latest brainstorming stream ~

“What If Beauty Could Literally Steal Your Breath?”

Random Thoughts

We see something beautiful to us, we start turning blue and suffocating; can cause death if not treatment, stop exposure, etc

Beauty is subjective; different things would affect different people

Could be scenarios where only a certain type of beauty e.g. a person’s physical beauty is causing the affliction; could also be all forms of beauty

People could be suffocating over – movies; books; video games; faces of their children or loved ones; landscapes; paintings; music; different genres of music; smells –

Could smelling a rose kill you?

Concepts or ideas can also be beautiful, they could also affect certain people

Dating will be awkward and potentially dangerous

Spending time with loved ones could become very difficult

Oxygen tanks

Could the breath stolen by beauty be collected and used for e.g. filling oxygen tanks; spells; etc

Would whatever steals the breath (if it’s not a natural affliction) gain life or improvement in life?

Can different levels of beauty affect differently; cute kitten video make you wheeze a little, but looking at Mt Fuji could make you faint – but again, different for different people

If it’s a natural affliction, symptoms similar to asthma attack (mild to severe); probably no ‘breath collected’

If it’s a nefarious e.g. curse, maybe built into the spell for breath to be collected, or the caster of the spell needs to be nearby

Could also be affected by dreams in your sleep – wake up gasping and/or dead

Smell of the air beautiful – infinite loop

If find yourself extremely physically attractive, could you be affected?

If simply like your looks, could you be affected?

If you have a healthy relationship with yourself and ‘love yourself’, could you be affected?

Plastic surgery to diminish looks to stop hurting your loved ones; would that work? Your loved ones love you, not how you look; beautiful due to personality/soul, beautiful no matter how you look; could be tried in pandemic scenario but found to not be very effective?

Soul surgery???

Does love equate to beauty? Depends on situation/scenario/different people – so subjective

What if it’s only beautiful humans that cause the affliction, not art, nature, etc?

What about the poor people who find something beautiful in everything?

Use as an excuse to get out of e.g. classes – I find the language beautiful!!!

If you do find a particular language beautiful, hearing it would affect your breathing; limit the places you could travel

What about the poor people who find Vtuber feet beautiful??? WHAT ABOUT THEM???

Favourite food could affect you – would no longer be able to eat it

Some people not affected by any beauty at all

How powerful a spell would be required to make a singular person lose breath at the sight of beauty? What about many people at once? If it’s a powerful spell, it might take a novice a huge amount of power, but a master might be able to do it with a click of their fingers

Curse scenario – how painful is it to lose breath? Depend on strength of that particular spell; drawn out of lungs and can’t breathe it back – very distressing; how long does it last? Until death? Just until they have the breath currently in your lungs? Not preventing from breathing in again?

Natural affliction scenario – similar to asthma, other breathing conditions; painful and distressing to that degree

Maybe doesn’t cause any huge health issues – just annoying; causes huge cough, like getting the wind knocked out of you, but no more permanent damage

Two types of fear – one associated with feelings of suffocation without a way to stop it, other is everything else – IF THIS WAS A CURSE SCENARIO this might be quite pertinent, some sort of reasoning behind this curse?

WHAT IF a beautiful person was cursed so everyone who sees them gets the air pulled out of their lungs?

Is breath close to life in some religions; could there be religious implications

What if it’s widely believed those affected – it’s not their breath being pulled out of them, but their soul? What would that lead to – discrimination against the ‘soulless’ sort of thing

THE PLAUGE

Concept for counterbalancing a superpower –

Most beautiful person in a village being accused of being a witch and stealing someone’s soul

Beauty trials instead of witch trials

IN THE CURSE SCENARIO – maybe the curse only works if you see the cursed person’s body directly and wearing 100% covering counters the curse – full long-sleeved dresses and full face-covering veils very popular and sensible

A Medusa situation

Curse scenario – curse only takes oxygen out of someone’s lungs in a manner so they do not realise they are suffocating

What if beauty replaces the oxygen in your lungs with something else (e.g. macaroni; roses); beauty gas replaces?

Roses in the lungs disease; a major fanfic trope; cough out petals if you’re bottling your love feelings; either confess love or forget about the person you love; if untreated leads to death

Beautiful voice can steal your breath

CURSE SCENARIO - If a person’s ambition is perceived as beautiful and they curse someone and steal their breath, would their own ambition, etc, become more beautiful

Beauty as a power without using the overused trope of charm is a good idea

Could this be a superpower – your face/voice/personality/etc can steal people’s breath – how could you use this power; what difficulties will you face in life; etc

What would the embodiment of beauty be?

Would you know you find someone you like if you lose your breath? Probably a good indication

World ugly-fying filter for extra sensitive people so they can leave the house

CURSE SCENARIO – sorcerer collecting breath so their idea, dream, ambition, etc, gains so much breath it can will a body/form into existence, become personified; could someone literally make a god?

CURSE SCENARIO – what if when you steal someone’s breath, you take it for yourself, increasing your own beauty (in the eyes of your society)

Breath transfusions

Iron lungs – beauty industry evolves around accessories and mods for iron lungs, etc

Could pets, animals, (plants??) also be affected?

Mosquitos would go extinct??? Blood so beautiful???

Use of robots and AI for art; become cyborgs to avoid art and beauty

Beauty deities could die out from declining numbers of believers

What if being ‘ugly’ can fill someone’s lungs with oxygen?? ‘Ugly’ people become saviours

Photo of ** become a creepy pasta/urban legend, but actually true

Beauty is a Lovecraftian eldritch being that gains power from each breath taken

Are lungs and gills equal? If not, research into humans developing gills and becoming amphibious

If two ‘ugly’ people dated, could they permanently live in space/water if their lungs are constantly filling with oxygen?

Mermaid HRT (hormone replacement therapy); need to know actually afflicted by disease and it’s not a fetish; or heart transplant – WHAT ABOUT THE MERMAIDS

What if people get systematically tested for what type of people (or other things) they find attractive and what archetype of beauty they are – like blood types; medical update during yearly physicals, etc, part of regular blood tests, monitor changes as grow

Sirens – become what we individually find most attractive; sirens stealing breath?

Pinocchio-like – become more of a ‘real person’ by being the most beautiful, gaining the most life/beauty/etc; ‘contest’ between unscrupulous sorcerers to gather the most breath/life/beauty

SHOW IDEA – near extinction of human males; all boys captured and on government-mandated dating shows – MAKE IT A ROMCOM

Treatment for curse – depend on strength of the curse; whether it’s short or long term; are there any antidotes? If not, at the mercy of the sorcerer

If a mental health or other disorder due to chemical imbalances or other difficulties in the body, treatment similar to other mental health/respiratory diseases – drugs, CBT, relaxation, decreasing stress, etc

Potential of social pension, etc, if afflicted by this – if it’s a rare thing, probably; if it’s a pandemic, no

Family issues – parents not being able to raise their children, unable to spend much time with them, affect on the children emotionally, developmentally

Spending infancy in opaque incubator; light cycles and stimulus provided within?

Would baby beauty affect all people or just family – could all babies be raised in a box? What age would they come out?

Insurance issues

Importance of visual beauty decreases, leads to auditory beauty being the most dominant form, which in turn leads to auditory beauty causing more problems; need to soundproof incubators, etc; deadly loop

ID cards – fingerprints, etc, instead of faces

Difficulties getting medical treatment?

So in love willing to die for each other – toxic relationship

Logos not exist since someone could find it beautiful

Beauty could become something like alcohol, cigarettes, recreational drugs – people know it’s dangerous, but do it for the euphoria

Compare ‘beauty tasting’ to wine tasting

Beauty battles- UNBREATHE

Disease would produce many forms of ableism – taunting due to avoiding beauty, etc

A Rare Affliction

Mental health disorder; when affected by beauty, body seizes up, affects the trachea and the lungs, etc, creates asthma-like symptoms

Permanent or a curable affliction

Could be related to neurodivergence

Minimise exposure to beauty; need to find out exactly what you find beautiful in order to avoid it

If found self beautiful and were affected by it, get rid of all your mirrors!

Minimise contact with family and friends for your health

Lead to depression

Treatments – if natural, inhalers, relaxation therapy, etc could work for mild to moderate cases; difficult to treat severe attacks; if it’s a mental health disorder or chemical imbalances causes breathing difficulties, probably some kind of treatment

What kind of treatment if it’s a curse

Like many disabilities, chronic disease – live your life, but need meds, assistance tools, regular care, etc

A Global Pandemic

Pandemic cycles as beauty standards change to something once believed safe

People naturally start finding other things beautiful that once they didn’t find beautiful in a self-preservation reflex, but now THAT’S beautiful, so that starts affecting them, too = cycles

Beauty becomes suppressed in all its forms

Oxygen would become a black market item; ridiculously expensive and hard to get; hoarded

“Beautiful” people encouraged/forced to wear masks, etc

There will always be a “most beautiful”; doesn’t matter how ugly masks, clothes, etc, are; logical conclusion (in the beginning) is to try to avoid beauty

Some people would try to capitalize on the situation – selling oxygen at high prices; if the curse scenario, collecting all the oxygen and selling it again;

Military uses – send something beautiful to the enemy to act as a debuff

Selling diet air for a good discount

Small percentage of people immune and run secretive beauty clubs; poetry readings; in dystopian future sort of thing

IN THE BEGINNING – preventative measures; increased respiratory clinics everywhere; warnings outside of art museums, libraries, famous natural sites, etc

Only so much preventative measures can do – when beauty is so subjective (people could be dropping with every rainbow) and the beauty cycles that are starting

‘Beauty’ starts being controlled; libraries, galleries, art and creative expression in general start being suppressed; to many restrictions; and eventually outlawed

Libraries would be burned; book bonfires; art bonfires; musical instruments bonfires; natural world desecrated – ALL IN THE SAKE OF HEALTH

No one able to appreciate things like fine dining any more; fancy chefs out of a job

People not affected by beauty at all in a prime position to EXPLOIT

A curse gone out of control; evil magical people exploiting it stealing breath

Surge in kidnappings – can intentionally use beauty to knock people out and kidnap them

If it’s only people you find beautiful that causes the breath loss, what if everyone is only affected by those genders you are sexually attracted to? Is it just sexual attraction or is it romantic attraction, as well? (does not include family members, etc, that you love and find beautiful)

HUGE EFFECT ON POPULATION

What does society look like in 100 years if this beauty pandemic is ongoing; if all forms of beauty – becoming a drab bunker society in which creativity is shunned, all forms of beauty shunned, self-expression punished; secret beauty club for immune people; black market in beauty for those willing to risk their breath just to experience beauty; probably rebellions brewing (or constantly being stamped out) in this bunker society

What would happen with the beauty industry?

Beauty as a drug and erotic asphyxiation being common; like strip clubs but removing masks not clothes

IF BEAUTY STEALS BREATH AND UGLINESS GIVES IT (societal norms) – eventually what is beautiful and ugly might completely swap; cycles

Everything becomes very bland to prevent declining population – population and crowd control through beauty

Self harm increases to diminish beauty and protect others – no one would want to be beautiful; what about cycling beauty standards, things that are ugly would soon become beautiful to most people

Dystopian beauty soldiers

Movies, tv shows, etc, temporarily banned until beauty standards switch around; keep cycling

If you'd like to write anything inspired by our lovely and mildly disturbing brainstorming session - be it a six-word story, a sentence, a drabble, a paragraph, a poem, a play, a short story, a novella, a novel plan, or something else entirely - please, write it and share it with us! If everyone is comfortable with making a Scribble Hub account, this might be a good way to keep all our writings together (please don't panic about cover art - any random free-to-use picture related to your story is perfectly perfect). Please use #MacGuffinsUwrite in the synopsis, and perhaps include an @moonfeatherblue just to grab my attention! If you're not comfortable with Scribble Hub, don't worry! Please post where you are comfortable, use the hashtag, and maybe let me know with a VOD comment so I know to track it down.

You'll have a little longer this time around due to Blue's family holiday adventure coming up - I'll be reading all your stories on 6 May at 10 am aest (assuming all goes to schedule). If you could try to have your stories posted by the day before, that would be very much appreciated 💙✨

#writing #indie vtuber #brainstorming #creative writing #macguffinsuwrite #blue mooney #moonfeatherblue #writeblr #vtubers of tumblr #envtuber #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #english vtuber #writing vtuber #what if beauty could literally steal your breath

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