#CHANTS POSER POSER POSER

[buggyandthebartoclub]

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[dannystheone]

Sacrificing Mysterion (Lee Mysterion/ Ler Goth Kids)

Guys this idea took over my brain all of a sudden so now you have to deal with it

I was watching the Cthulu episode with the Goth kids in the alley with Mysterion and I was like how have I not had this idea before-

but anyway :))

I hope you guys enjoy! Take this as kind of a Halloween fic as well while I get a real Halloween fic prepared

WARNINGS: Cursing, smoking, talks of death, talks of torture, talks of sacrifice/acts of sacrifice, chanting, pinning

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE

The Goth Kids are on a mission to sacrifice Mysterion to Cthulu, as they are now Cthulu's minions. But they can't kill him, so what else can they do?

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A lit cigarette was the only illumination in the darkly themed bedroom, smoke unfurling from its smoldering tip. Micheal brought the cigarette to his lips and took a hit, sighing afterward and shaking his curls in irritation. After the failed assassination attempt on Mysterion in the alleyway with the other cultists, the Goth Kids were in a creative rut on how to serve their new master.

They agreed collectively that the only reason why the world still sucked even when Cthulu was on a rampage killing all the hippies and conformists was because Mysterion didn't stay dead as their sacrifice. Now, back in Henrietta's bedroom, the group racked their brains on sacrificing him once more and ensuring it worked this time.

"Maybe he's too much of a brainwashed wannabe to be a proper sacrifice. I mean his brains gotta be mush from all the trashy pop they listen to on the radio. A proper sacrifice has to have some sort of brain, right? It would make sense." Micheal thought out loud as he brought his cigarette away from his lips. Pete shook his head, his hair swaying away from his face.

"Nah, even if you're a carbon copy straight out of Mattel with all the other Barbie's and Ken's in the world, you should stay dead when you're stabbed in the chest. Maybe he got lucky and the cultist missed his heart or something. Unless the conformists really are just made up of plastics and Botox now. Maybe there wasn't a heart to stab." Pete suggested. Henrietta pulled her cigarette away from her lips, sighing out the smoke in her chest as she flipped through the Necronomicon.

"God, there's nothing in here about a proper human sacrifice. This book is fucking useless." Henrietta shut the book with a thump and pushed it to the side with her foot, her hair especially wild with being so frazzled. She was excited about a new dark beginning this world being served by Cthulu could bring, but everything was still frustratingly the same.

"Nothing on Reddit or Wikipedia? That's where you usually go." Firkle asked. He was also looking forward to a new beginning, wondering how things would be where no one would make fun of him for anything anymore.

Henrietta shook her head. "No, there's nothing. I'm starting to think Cthulu doesn't even want a sacrifice. You would think if he did he'd give us some fucking instructions."

"It feels like whatever God you wanna listen to, they're always vague and non-committal. Maybe it's something we're too mortal to not understand." Pete said aloud. The others were inclined to agree.

"If I weren't so pissed off right now, I'd say that's goth as fuck, Pete." Henrietta commented, trying to make some sense of her hair with one hand.

"Maybe if we tire Mysterion out first and then try to kill him? I don't know, maybe he has regenerative powers." Firkle suggested. Micheal rubbed his eyebrow as a headache was starting to form in that spot.

"Firkle, he's not an actual superhero. He's just a stupid backwoods poser wearing a costume with his boxers on the outside of his pants. I'm surprised it's a clean pair and it doesn't have a skidmark on it-"

"How do I fight him."

A deep voice spoke from behind the group. The Goth Kids turned around in sync to see Mysterion knelt in Henrietta's open bedroom window. It was a rainy night tonight, lightning cracking and illuminating the room for a brief moment.

Micheal raised an eyebrow at Mysterion despite his cool entrance.

"Oh joy, it's underwear boy again. Get out of here poser, you ruined our chances at finally getting true darkness and true pain in this world. Instead we're still living in this gay conformist fantasyland." Micheal waved Mysterion away as the anti-hero landed in Henrietta's bedroom and tossed his cape to the side.

"Tell me how to defeat him. Now. That God of yours stole my friends away. They're in real danger because of you. Tell me, now. There's no time to waste." Mysterion demanded. The Goth Kids all exchanged glances with one another, silently considering it. Slowly, small grins of agreeance bloomed on their faces as they understood a silent plan.

Henrietta stood up from her spot on the floor, tapping her cigarette in the ashtray. She walked up to Mysterion and put a hand on her hip.

"Alright dork, listen. We'll tell you how to defeat Cthulu. And you can believe us because we have this-" Henrietta walked over to the Necronomicon and kicked the book onto its front so the cover showed its title. Mysterion's eyes followed and understood. "All you have to do is be a sacrifice for us to Cthulu. And you can defeat him afterward." Henrietta explained. Mysterion's eyes narrowed behind his mask at that.

"How can you want me to be a sacrifice to someone I'm trying to take down? Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose? And I can't die, that's why I'm alive from the alleyway when you assholes stuck that knife in my chest. Doesn't seem like worthy sacrifice material to me." Mysterion said gruffly. Firkle smiled confidently at that. Micheal stood up now next to Henrietta, the rest of the Goth Kids following suit.

"Cthulu is the source of all subconscious anxiety for all of mankind. You don't necessarily have to die, we just need your feelings of anxiety to be sacrificed in the name of the Old One. Besides, if this sacrifice doesn't work again by the time you're going and trying to save your friends, then we'll know it's a crock. Either way, we both get what we want. We get confirmation, and possibly the result we want, and you get an answer." Micheal explained. Henrietta looked at Micheal inquisitively.

"How did you know all of that?" She asked. Micheal shrugged.

"I did some reading too. Apparently Wikipedia did have what we were looking for." He replied.

Mysterion's fists locked tightly. Every second ticked closer and closer to his friends possibly meeting a horrible fate down in the city of R'lyeh where he had last left them. He had no time to waste, and if he weren't so outnumbered he would have just stolen the book for the answers. He had to comply this time. Mysterion closed his eyes and took a breath, centering himself.

"Okay, I'll do it. Tell me what I have to do."

--------

After some deliberating about how to extract Mysterion's feelings of anxiety without getting blood on the carpet and making Henrietta's parents upset, the Goth Kids had Mysterion set up on Henrietta's sacrificial carpet. A five-pointed star was imprinted on the material. Candles were lit and music with ominous tones set the mood.

Mysterion was laid out with each Goth Kid sitting on a respective limb, Pete and Firkle taking his legs and Micheal and Henrietta taking his arms. It didn't look very ceremonial with them sitting on him like this, but Mysterion's heart was already beating in this setup despite the fact. He tried to keep a level head.

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn." Pete chanted the sacred text from the Necronomicon. Mysterion looked from side to side, getting more and more tense about this.

"What does that mean? What you're saying." Mysterion craned his neck up and asked when Pete was done. Pete flipped his hair out of his eyes and set the book down.

"'In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.' It basically means that even though he's trapped in R'lyeh, he will eventually return. Which he has. Let's just hope this sacrifice works so we can make his return worth it." Pete said with an annoyed tone.

"Can you just make it quick? My friends are waiting for me in another dimension with only me to save them." Mysterion said heroically. The Goth Kids collectively rolled their eyes at that.

"Yeah sure Captain Mysteri-Suck, we'll speed this up for you." Pete groaned as he settled into position on Mysterion's leg and prepped his fingers.

Mysterion tugged each limb, not liking how secure he was in this position. But he supposed that was the entire point. To be anxious and uncomfortable. He had some give with the limb Firkle was sitting on because of how light he was, but that was made up for by the rest of the group on him. He just hoped his hands and feet wouldn't be numb by the end of this.

"So, what will you do? Stab me again? Carve sigils into me?" Mysterion asked. Micheal blew out the smoke in his chest with a huff.

"Pfft- No, genius. What do you think we're fucking sadists? We're just gonna do this-" Henrietta and Micheal put down their cigarettes and immediately dove right in. Fingers started scribbling and wiggling into Mysterion's open ribs and armpits, their fingers sliding over his costume easily.

Mysterion being taken by surprise by this tactic was an understatement. His eyes widened, surprised laughter escaping his chest at his regular pitched voice before it took everything in him to pitch his laughter down to Mysterion's tone of voice.

"Hahahaha! Wh-whahat thehe fuhuhuck?! St-Stohohop!" The anti-hero's eyes squinted behind his mask in his laughter as Henrietta winced at the sound. Her black acrylics scratched and raked against Mysterion's ribs, a method that seemed to already be driving him up the wall.

"Euch- I think I would have rather carved sigils into myself than hear your childlike laughter barf into my ears. It's like I'm in a live studio audience for the Disney Channel. Spare me." Henrietta rolled her eyes at Mysterion's laughter and kept up her unenthused tickling.

Mysterion pulled at his limbs as a reflex, his arms and legs jerking and tensing in an attempt to free himself. Micheal's long artist fingers spidered down to Mysterion's side and started squishing there, causing the anti-hero to jump and belt out his laughter.

"G-Gehehet ohohohoff! Gehehet ohohohoff nohohohoo!! Dohohohon't dohohoho thihihis!!" Mysterion was finding it extremely challenging to keep his voice pitched to Mysterion's deep tone of voice, especially since his laughter was very much forced and spontaneous.

"Oh wow, should we listen to the sacrifice and actually stop you guys? What do you think? Do you want to help your friends or not, buttmunch?" Micheal groaned and used all five fingers in Mysterion's side to claw it, causing a squeal out of the tough hero that definitely was not Mysterion-pitched.

"I mean, it sounds like you did your friends a favor. They're down in R'lyeh, the Nightmare Corpse-City. They're so stupid lucky. I'd give anything to trade places with them." Pete said aloud. He decided it was his turn to get into the mix, but he hated that he had Mysterion's leg to work with. He decided to just start squishing around Mysterion's knee, which worked tremendously in his favor anyway. Mysterion already started kicking and pulling away from him.

"NOHO-hohoho!! I hahahave tohohoho sahahahave thehehem!! Buhuhuhut thihihihis fuhuhuhucking suhuhuhucks!!" Mysterion shouted, battling his own voice for control on pitching his tone back down to its deep register. He twisted and bucked his hips, trying to get free by any means, even for just a second.

"Well yeah, you didn't think subconscious anxiety was going to come easily, did you? I swear, brainwashed jocks never use their heads. It's why they're all braindead mindless sheep." Henrietta mused. Her fingers made their way into Mysterion's armpit, her acrylics sliding back and forth in the hollow which was killer.

"Stahahahap!! Dohohon't gohohohoho in thehehere!! Gehehet ahahaha-ohohout!" Mysterion pleaded with Henrietta, which was exactly why she kept her fingers exactly where they were and kept scratching in his armpit.

"You can't possibly believe that you're the victim here. We have to listen to your incessant boyish laughter that's making my eardrums puke blood while we put our hands on you with your underwear outside of your pants. If anything, we're the ones making the sacrifice." Micheal commented, his right hand staying at Mysterion's side scratching and his other hand reaching to his stomach and spidering all over it. Mysterion bucked his hips at this and threw his head back in laughter.

"Ahahahaha!! Plehehehease plehehehease!! Ahahahat leheheheast mahahake ihihihit eheheheasier!! Thihihihis ihihihihis ahahahahass!!" Mysterion begged, not liking to have to stoop so low as to plead with the people torturing him, but he had no other choice. Being killed hundreds of different times in hundreds of different ways, he's done that. But this was something else entirely.

"Your laughing makes me want to barf." Firkle said simply, his small fingers crawling underneath Mysterion's knee and scribbling in the hollow. Mysterion squealed and started pulling on that leg in particular.

"I don't get you dime-a-dozen conformist losers. You beg us for our help and then we give to you and then you ask us to stop? Typical Normies. Real life takes real sacrifice. Not your bleached blonde fake spray tan Hollywood prop fake fantasy world you live in." Henrietta used acrylic-covered nails to scribble and scratch over all the surface area she could reach on her side, from Mysterion's armpit to the middle of his stomach.

Mysterion started belting out laughter; his previous attempts at trying to pitch down his laughs were tossed out the window. His laugh came across high and clear like a bell chime, filling the room with its presence. Mysterion bucked his hips in an attempt to get the prying fingers off, in his armpits all the way down to his knees and everything in between. This had to be the strangest thing he's ever done for his friends. Hell, the strangest thing he's ever done period.

"Nohohoho nohoho I'm sahahaha-!! I'm sohohorry!! I-hehehehee!! I dihihihidn't mehehehean ihihihit lihihihihike thahahat!!" Mysterion's eyes were screwed shut as his laughter kept climbing to new octaves rather than the opposite that he desperately wanted.

"How long until you think the sacrifice is fulfilled? Should we make him laugh until he's dead? He said he can come back." Pete suggested, squishing his hands up and down Mysterion's thigh but avoiding getting too high up for obvious reasons. Mysterion shook his head vigorously at this idea.

"Dohohohohon't nohohohoho!! I'll dihihihihihie!!" Mysterion shouted, his lips stretched back to show little canines in his mouth. Micheal noticed this and was secretly jealous. He'd always wanted something like that. It made him press his fingers into Mysterion's tummy harder to tickle him more.

"Well no shit, genius. God... it's kinda the whole idea of a sacrifice." Pete deferred the decision to Micheal and Henrietta as he focused on squishing and squeezing Mysterion's thigh. The material that his costume was made out of made it easy to slide his fingers up and down.

"Buhuhuhuhut I mehehehean- I mehehehean I'll dihihihie lihihihike- Gohohohod stohohohohop!! Lihihihike I'll dihihihihie!!" Mysterion tried pleading his case in a not-very-convincing way. The Goth Kids all looked around at each other while their tickling continued to see if anyone could make sense of his words.

"He's starting to go crazy already. He's speaking gibberish." Firkle determined. Both of his small hands were under Mysterion's knee now, scratching over the synthetic material.

"Ohohoo cohohome ohohohohon!!" Mysterion whined. His chest and belly were already starting to hurt, as well as his joints from the pulling. He was starting to think that maybe getting killed was a good option here, but then he'd be leaving without the book, which he couldn't have.

"Sacrifices don't get a say in how they're sacrificed. The Mayans and Aztecs can tell you that. On the bright side, you've graduated from annoying trash conformist to useful sacrifice. Consider yourself lucky." Micheal shrugged and spidered some long fingers over Mysterion's belly button, to which Mysterion could say nothing to and just laughed. His cheeks were starting to ache from smiling.

"I-hehehehee!! I tahahahahap!! Gahahame ohohohover!! Uhuhuhuncle!! Whahahatever you wahahahant buhuhuhut plehehehease!! Mehehehercy!!" Mysterion squirmed and twisted underneath the Goth Kids, to which they decided maybe that was enough.

"He does look anxious, I guess. And I'm getting anxiety from all of your happy-go-lucky giggling." Henrietta groaned.

"Really? I'm getting heartburn. Yeah, I guess it worked." Micheal agreed. The Goth Kids all started getting off of Mysterion's limbs; Mysterion laying on the carpet and breathing in copious amounts of oxygen for a moment.

"Here's the Necronomicon, Wonder Boy. Just bring it back to school when you're done with it. And I swear to Satan if there's any tears or stains on it when you give it back to me- well, I think that'd make it look more Goth but don't make it look gross, I guess." Henrietta picked the book up and put it at Mysterion's side as he was getting up, clutching his side.

"I-huhh- I'm.." Mysterion took a second to bring his voice down to its deep register, but his voice was clearly strained. The Goth Kids all returned to their usual positions around Henrietta's room and looked at the anti-hero collect himself.

"Th-Thank you, for your help. I'm going to help my friends with this," Mysterion said, gesturing with the book.

"May we never cross paths again, 'cause this fucking sucked." Mysterion tucked the book away in a mysterious pocket and vanished out of Henrietta's window into the night.

"...So what should we do with the rest of our night?" Pete asked.

[theresalovesyou]

i walk around in public with my pink stanley. people think i’m a fake coquette girl. “poser!” they all chant in unison. in reality i’ve been coquette since 2022. 💔

[jeanchrisosme]

Si vous me cherchez Vous ne me verrez pas dans les grands magasins, parmi la foule assoiffée de biens matériels. Je préfère le calme de la forêt, ou la sérénité des vieux cimetières isolés, pieds nus dans l'herbe, attentive aux bruits des branches qui se meuvent sous la brise, aux chants des oiseaux qui sonnent comme une mélodie harmonieuse, aux vols des papillons, petits clins d'œil des défunts... Vous ne me trouverez pas dans les centres aquatiques ou de thalassothérapie. Je me baigne dans les rivières ou la mer, parmi les êtres de la nature. J'adore le bruit des vagues s'échouant sur le sable, le massage des courants plus ou moins chauds ou froids sur mon corps. J'aime observer le parcours de l'élément eau que rien n'arrête. L'eau contourne les obstacles, les dépasse, et poursuit sa route sans se poser de questions. Vous ne me croiserez pas à des spectacles sons et lumières, bondés de monde et de nuisances sonores. Je serai sous les rayons de la pleine lune, me remplissant de ses douces énergies, en scrutant les étoiles où résident mes frères galactiques. Enveloppée de l'obscurité de la nuit, je ferai face à la lumière de la reine des astres, me rappelant mes origines stellaires. Vous ne m'apercevrez pas sous les projecteurs, sous les stroboscopes, au contact d'une population déchaînée. Je préfère les crépitements du feu de bois, la danse de ses flammes, ses messages, sa chaleur. Le son du tambour, aligné sur les battements de mon cœur. La communion avec les éléments et les différents plans. Je suis fille du feu, de la terre, de l'eau et de l'air. Femme sur Terre, une âme de l'Univers. Je suis tout et rien à la fois. L'œil du cyclone au cœur de la tempête, la pluie, le beau temps, l'arc en ciel, l'orage et l'ouragan.

Patou Llech

[apatchworkstar]

Hi! >:- 3c surprised to see me here? Cause I'm a bit, to be making this. So! Context is I made a Muu playlist and I wanted to make a post about why I ordered it the way I did. Not to mention why I chose the songs I did.

So, as they say, from the top~

Selfish Princess - Fujiwo

I feel like anyone who knows of Muu and has listened to this song may be able to guess why it's here. But for anyone who hasn't...

I feel like this captures her dichotomy of how she wants to be catered to very well.

Wanna eat that sweet sweet chocolate, wanna drink that hot hot latte, wanna eat that soft soft bread. Wanna eat that sticky cheese, wanna sleep in that fluffy fluffy bed; dozy, dozy have a good night zzz / Wanna eat that bitter bitter liver, wanna drink that red red soup, wanna eat that soft soft flesh.

This song also showcases how lazy she can be when it comes to things she's asked to do. In conjunction with how she expects people to work around her, instead of the other way round.

One, two, three- start dancing to the beat with my mysterious steps / Murmuring, rolling, lazy lazy meow meow; don't wanna do anything! / Three, two, one- the fragrant that makes my heart beat wildly

It also highlights a aspect of hers that can get overlooked. That being that she tends to like people who aren't just seeming to suck up to her.

Guillotine, gunshot, burning or seppuku, any option you'd like. No one can beat me; oh how boring. / Sweet sweet is not enough, show me more of that twisted face. Lalala lalala lalala, see- it's not enough

You may ask "then why would she bully those who aren't giving into her whims?" and that's a fair question! Muu does like to be indulged, after all. She's just also someone who doesn't appreciate people feeding off her without any sort of recompense. This is shown in how she refers to Mikoto in the wireless headphones.

Mikoto-kun, he's a bit of a poser

Overall, it's a good starting song as it shows Muu at a baseline.

I'm waiting for someone to love this selfish me. My pillow is wet with tears at the lonely nights. I watch every second passing by-

but I'm... right?

Selfish, lalala~ Don't be afraid everyone. Please give, give me! Keep giving me everything. Everything can be forgiven because I'm the cutest.

Hello Dystopia - MafuMafu

Ah, Hello Dystopia, my beloved~ Also a very easy pick for Muu, given her role in her school's dynamic.

Now, exit, exit; disappear, if you'd please! / The influence of a desperate god, the screws in my head turn anti-clockwise. It's too late to let us down, isn't it? Don't you beg for your life- let's fall together to the depths of hell. / Here, there's only idiots crawling out of the woodwork who want to play. Let's go in order, starting with whose hands are free- raise them to the gallows

As we all know, Muu has a habit of acting against anyone who she thinks dislikes her/ has ulterior motives-

Rehabilitation, reincarnation, my specialty. A refuge for failures to gather in 140 characters / It's the cruel sin of tearing down a tower of building blocks. All right, we're saving the world; excellent, chanting in unison, almost logged out of life

-We also know that, in some sense, this is meant to be a kindness, as she refers to these actions as "gentle stings".

Let's chant babbled nonsense. Let's grant wishes, no matter what they may be. Good children surely get prizes for perfect attendance; a show made of the dismantlement of the slandered / This is fake news, see. Keep out; die a dog's death. Mostly sources from ambiguous tip offs

It also touches upon some implications about Muu. Namely, that she has a distorted sense of showing and receiving "love"

A utopia where love is uncertain; there's no way of knowing if any of it's true or not anyways. A utopia where love is uncertain. Hysteria where this is certain

And that she tends to view things like love and hate in a transactional nature.

Here's the question, question- what was brought into being after we hurt each other? Excellent answer; dystopia / A shooting gallery for shotguns; thank you, Merry Bad End / Ignorant irony, though there's no conflict. Like it's a piece of cake, throw an entire life into disorder

Furthermore, this song placed here means it can also be read as her initial relationship with Rei

Love me; for my ambiguous self, become mine. Give me validation, hereditary idiot. Have you written the fiction between you and me? The present state of wild delusions and exaggerations, a collar at hand

"hey"

Useless Angel - Nanawo Akari

Now we get to Useless Angel! Something that definitely highlights Muu's more lazy side

It's not that I won't do it, I just can't! / Aah, lately the word on the street is that there's a no-good angel who makes up for her uselessness with angelic power... Well, that's the plan! / I wanna get a good score on my upcoming test, but my brain can't keep up and my thoughts are clattering around. It's Saturday, and I wanna get up early but I can't stop playing online games in the middle of the night / Just lemme say there's nothing I can do about it! Even though I stuck my halo in my mouth / "But can you really fly if you work hard?" I'm making a face that looks like that

But it also shows more of her earnest desire for affection, and the lengths she's willing to go to receive it,

I want to convey to you more and more of my feeling being inadequate. But, when I'm noticed, I get nervous, a miscommunication. My blinking halo is cracking, but with this, I'll change your mind about my identity. I said it's a bluff, but the truth is that there's a foggy feeling of love. I want to search for it with you. / Hey, the no-good, no-good, no-good, no-good me- you'll love her! / I'll make your heart beat, beat, beat, beat just for you! If you'd just look at me seriously, I'd probably do it!

And her anxieties about not being deserving of said affection. Or receiving it for reasons that have nothing to do with her as a person.

But am I at least alright? / I hid my feeling of love in that kind of paper-mache shell, but I want to be laughing with you. Hey the no-good, no-good, no-good, no-good me... are you okay with her? To tell the truth, I don't have any self confidence. I'm an angel, you know. My head is spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning. It is filled with nothing but you- that's what I've been thinking about!

I think I'll be able to fly with this love I've received, since I'm an angel

It's not that I won't do it, I just can't!

Er, well, I'll put a lot of effort in anyway!

Chameleon - Surii

And Chameleon represents Muu in the midst of her efforts to earn love meaningfully. As I said before in this post, Muu doesn't want people to just fawn over her for no reason. And this time she's putting in her all to catch the attention she wants from Rei!

I get dizzy from falling in love burningly. I want to be loved, so I'm being an honour student. As I get irritated, my heart is scattered- but I'm a chameleon that can blend in this much / I want to resist to ask you for your affection. I want to show you the best attitude / A while crying and a while falling in love again. Today's makeup can't be messed with / A passionate chameleon becoming half dead again, but next time, for sure. A passionate chameleon. I'm a chameleon that just wants to be loved by you. Transform and diving into the average class. A complete change into the life of the lower class, piling up the dynamite on myself. Oh my, what a damp noise

But of course, Muu is someone who can't help but stay true to herself, even if it causes her trouble. As much as she tries to hide it, not everything can be covered up by hard work and determination.

The transformation is not perfect; my entire body is not something you desire. I take those dynamites little by little, apparently dangerous / Do you still wanna be loved? / A while buttering up and a while melting; I gotta check today's trend. Dazzling from singing flamingly, living a life with the passing grade. My resentful heart sways back and forth; I'm a chameleon that can be a part of it / My throat is parched, feeling the moment. But can't be forgiven because my outfit is way too flashy.

Even if it's painful, it's just something she ends up slipping back into. And so the loop of effort and pain continues.

Dunno... I cried so much that even my true original colour disappeared. When I tried to run away because it was too hard for me, you smiled at me.

Only want you to love me, is it not enough? Still not enough so try to blend in, chameleon

Ai Janai - DAZBEE

Yes, I know Gunsli has brought this specific song before. It's a great comparison and you should all give it a read when you have the chance! However, I do have my own reasoning. Especially it being placed where it is! Besides, I do do things a bit different from her, even if there are similarities.

But yes! We are slowly approaching the eye of the storm now. Everything is turning upside down and tensions are beginning to run high. Muu's starting to lose it, lost between her desire for love and her desire to earn it. And that's mixing with the burgeoning realization that maybe Rei wouldn't ever like her.

This isn't love, so depressed I feel sick. This isn't love; it isn't, right? Is that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard? Denied, isn't it? / On an answer sheet with A, B, and Cs, I gladly marked each question wrong. Could we have a secret love? "let's solve the hard questions together", "I'll wait for you after school" ...as if you would say that. / Before I fall apart, I wanna confess about this love that won't go away / Something's wrong with me, I must be going crazy. I'm in a drunken stupor filled with regret /I'm half joking and about to cry / I won't get my hopes up

Further and further until we enter it and anything can be set off with something as simple as a push or shove.

My sixth sense is tingling, I realized I really need to see you / It's like I'm sucked into a vortex each time I remember, and I can't get away

I look up the psychology of your actions online for signs / "Let's share secret looks between us", "I'll be standing in the hallway" ...but you're not listening, are you?

You'd resent me for the deal I've made in my head

Is this respite before I'm faced with a dilemma?

(Bonus!) Notice - Moe Shop

It's the bonus round! Also known as the song I keep dithering about putting in the playlist or not. It just feels. Very fitting for this moment.

Signal broken, error, retry. No one told me how to do this. Faith, belief un-fucking-believable. Shaking, wavering proof of my love / Taking long to get a reply, regretting. Maybe I'm thinking about it too much. Shaking, wavering, vibrating

That sensitive age where you wanna start a coup, can't pick up anything dropped. Stand, bow, this is a warzone

Cut off 5cm of my school skirt, feeling a little blue and sentimental. Senpai please, notice me. I already know there's a sweetie, so bad that I seriously consider suicide. It really hurts. / Eyes glaring in the dark

A piano in the evening, Ivory skies above. I hear a voice calling someone to stop. Please almighty god, stop those footsteps before the magic of misunderstanding fades

"Please, senpai. Notice me"

Short lived rumours last 75 days. That couple who were dating, broken up already, love is a lie.

Messed Up! - Natsuyama Yotsugi

And now we arrive at the incident- including this, only five more songs to go...! Thankfully God's Parasol is very short. More like a preview than anything. But back on track! We finally reach a release and now Muu has to deal with the aftermath.

I messed up and I killed 'em!? I caused a big commotion in the early afternoon- a rouge coloured puddle. Ah, they went and died!! I've gone and done this and that, and now I'm getting worried. I wipe my sweat away as the cicadas cry. Crisis! Crisis! My thoughts go 'round and 'round. This story's taken a dark turn, oh... / There's nothing I can do. Escaping into a träumerei, please, close my eyelids already

"Co-ming. Who is it?" I open the door to a flood of justice "Could you tell us the truth about this incident" "Actually no, first, a word of apology please" Ah, I'm sorry, I'm s-s-sorry. I've been a bad girl, that's why please / I'm just getting my just desserts / My offenses are as stated. Oh judge, please send me to the gallows already / They messed up and killed 'em!? What a big fuss over nothing, a story turned märchen / and the whole crowd laughs like fools

Darling - Keina Suda

And now the aftermath starts to set in. After all, as we've seen in milgram (and Undercover) Muu is a girl filled with regret and wistfulness

Am I not good enough? I know I'm the only one / I can't win your heart. I know you better than anyone / Darling, I'll give you my everything- please, give me all your love

There is no point in being alone. Words couldn't be created. I know- I know, but I keep pretending. We can't be together; our hearts will stay apart / but my love for you is shameless / Panicked, you were having too much fun

Just forget it, I'll be waiting for all this to end / Darling, take me someday; I long for that day to come

God's Parasol - Shikiura

This is so short I feel like I could just put all the lyrics here lmao. So that's what I'm gonna do

With the parasol god gave me, I'll come to you, fluttering in the air. I don't need anything else, melting away with your sweet kisses. With the parasol god gave me, I'll come to you, fluttering in the air. Why won't you say anything other than goodbyes?

First Love Diary - Kashii Moimi

Now we're really getting into the conflicting feelings- the regret, the frustration and sorrow all melding into something manically tangled.

I could never come to hate you, and so this ingrained self-restraint has no function. I'm forever remembering the secrets shared just between us two. Do I have to keep my feelings under lock and key? Saying "I want to see you" is my signal that I've been hurt, but I'm reluctant to cry all by my lonesome after putting on a brave front. / It'll do me no good (Don't leave) to get this attached to you. (me alone...) / please don't abandon me / I want to stay gentle (I'm the best in the world)

Dizzily inhaling your gaze, I don't even know what I've been doing to survive until now (You're heartless, aren't you?) I hate it, darling. I beg you, grasp my hand and rebuild me as someone new. Just as you want me! (Aren't I remarkable?) Maybe everything about me is becoming immoral in an indifferent and imbecilic way. Yet your hands are forever lovely (this is our starting point) / Indeed your words are my drug. I'm falling upside down, so won't you catch me? (And take me away from these dark days?) / Even so, darling... (I want you)

I hate it darling, become my sustenance! You know, I can't feel a single thing. You're constantly not there (Is nothingness so awful?) I love you. Can you tell me there'll never be another?! / "My first love won't be fulfilled" Then what should be done about me, who was able to fulfill it?

Will it always be so painful? Yes, yes, I feel the same way. So let's hurry up and go together (to heaven)

Chronophobia - 2進P

And finally, the point Muu was at when she was whisked away to Milgram. This is the point where the mania has faded, only leaving hurtful memories that dig into her psyche.

Time is projected so clearly; it goes on everywhere. Beautiful lights deceive my eyes as usual. I sloppily tore the flickering image that's always next to me into pieces- you know, even if I close my eyes, it's still there. I dislike everything about time. I don't care at all for eternity. The bitter words and their meaning don't accomplish anything; they've left intense scars and won't stop.

Why exactly is that moon still waxing and waning? I can hear that deeply warped noise so close to me. I run a tightly gripped knife across my face, wanting that unpleasant sound to disappear. Don't touch me, don't come near me, sounds of time. Since I'm begging, just kill me already.

There's no smile in my eyes. There is only the unstopping memory someone has violated me with.

Why, why do I keep seeing it? Please, stop it. Shut my eyes. / Please, stop it. Let me sleep.

[damemebene]

Prologue

le 3 de Graidorn, an 944 de l’air d’Argent 

Ela pleurait. Elle n'était encore qu’une enfant et son monde s’était écroulé. Trois jours auparavant, elle était encore dans les bras de sa mère, sous le grand frêne de leur jardin. Sa mère lui souriait tendrement, elle lui disait que leur temps était enfin arrivé. Bientôt elles partiraient toutes les deux, bientôt elles retrouveraient leur foyer, elles mangeraient à leur faim et n'auraient plus jamais froid. Pendant trois jours, son père avait été taiseux, pendant trois jours, son petit frère n’avait cessé de pleurer car il ne partirait pas avec elles. 

Maintenant sa mère était morte. Celui qui devait les aider à “rentrer chez elles” les avait trahies. Son petit frère avait été témoin de sa mort. Son père avait essayé d’intervenir, mais il était arrivé trop tard. Ela avait vu sa vengeance. 

Son frère ne pleurait plus à présent, assis sur le sol en terre battue de leur cabane, il fixait le feu. Il avait changé de vêtements depuis l’attaque, mais des traces de sang étaient toujours visibles sur son cou. Ela essayait d’arrêter ses larmes, elle savait que son père s’attendait à ce qu’elle s’occupe de son petit frère. Mais elle n’arrivait pas à lui parler, elle ne pouvait s’arrêter de penser à ce qui se serait passé s’il n’avait pas suivi sa mère quelques heures plus tôt. 

Dehors, les bruits de pelles cessèrent. Son père rentra dans la cabane, les traces de ses larmes visible sur son visage terni par la terre et le sang.

“Venez… Il faut…” La voix de son père mourut dans sa gorge. “Dites lui au-revoir.”

Ela s’avança vers lui et attrapa sa main, son père la serra fort. Son frère ne bougea pas, toujours tourné vers le feu.

“Tarann…”

Son père l’appela d’une voix douce, mais l’enfant ne réagit pas. Sans lâcher la main d’Ela, il s’approcha de lui lentement. Sans un mot, il s’agenouillant à ses côtés et passa sa main libre dans ses cheveux. Le garçon s’accrocha alors à son père et cacha son visage dans sa tunique salie. Leur père passa son bras autour de lui pour le porter contre son torse. Ensemble, ils sortirent et firent le tour de leur cabane. Ela ne put retenir ses sanglots quand elle vit le monticule de terre sous le grand frêne. Ils s’agenouillèrent devant la tombe, Tarann resta accroché à leur père. Ne sachant pas quoi faire, Ela regarda le monticule de terre, puis quand elle vit son père poser sa main sur la terre et fermer les yeux, elle fit de même sans vraiment comprendre. Après un long moment de silence, son père parla enfin, à peine un murmure, qui ne leur était pas destiné:

“J’espère que tu me pardonneras, Eliyka.”

Ils restèrent un long moment sous le frêne, le silence uniquement brisé par les pleures d’Ela et le chant des oiseaux migrateurs. Puis, quand le ciel s’assombrit et que la nuit fut proche, son père se releva, prenant soin de garder son fils contre lui, et posa sa main sur l’épaule d’Ela. 

“Rentrons.”

Ela leva les yeux vers son père mais rapidement, elle se détourna pour regarder à nouveau la tombe. Elle serra ses poings et dit d’une voix tremblante : 

“Maman m’a dit le nom du noble que devait l’aider, celui qui l’a trahi et qui…” Elle renifla avant de continuer, les larmes coulant à nouveau librement sur son visage. “Il s'appelle Sire Ortis ! Et il est à la capitale ! Tu pourrais le retrouver et-”

Elle se tut en sentant la main de son père se refermer un peu plus sur son épaule. 

“Ela, ce n’est pas possible, dit doucement son père. Et même si c’était le cas, ça vous mettrait en danger tous les deux et ça, je le refuse. Oublie le, il n’y a rien que nous puissions faire.”

Ela voulut répondre, mais le regard de son père, plein de tristesse et de colère étouffé, l’en dissuada. Elle n’avait pas encore huit ans, pourtant elle comprit que, comme elle, son père brûlait de se venger de cet homme mais, comme elle, il était impuissant contre un noble. 

La soirée passa dans un silence pesant.

Les journées qui suivirent se mélangèrent, les repas étaient frugales et irréguliers. Ela passa des heures à fouiller les robes et les bijoux de sa mère; s’endormant parfois enfouie dans le tissu toujours imprégné de son parfum. Son frère quittait à peine le lit et leur père essayait de se sortir de sa propre mélancolie pour s’occuper d’eux, mais parfois sans résultat. Après plusieurs jours à vivre ainsi, leurs réserves furent vides, leur père dû descendre en ville. Avant, il les aurait laissés, mais cette fois, il les prit avec lui et ils montèrent tous les trois sur son enbarr. Mais alors qu’ils arrivaient à proximité des habitations, ils virent que la ville fourmillait de gardes et les paysans qu’ils croisèrent leur lancèrent des regards étranges.

“Nous devons partir… annonça leur père

- On rentre déjà à la maison ? Demanda Ela.

- Non, nous devons partir loin d’ici...”

______

Voici donc le tout début de mon histoire. Je voulais la poster sur Wattpad mais j'ai pas mal de soucis pour créer mon compte. Donc je vais poster ici plutôt.

Tous les commentaires constructifs sont les bienvenus. Je posterai peut-être le chapitre 1 ce week-end. J'ai écris 10 chapitres pour le moment, mais seulement le prologue et le 1er chapitre ont été relu pour le moment.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Forgiving your views on abortion it's actually very surprising that you follow maybe even be mutuals with nerdylilpeebee, which by looking at a quick search on their blog supports abortions.

Sure I don't actually know that since the list of people you follow is private but I am basing this off the fact that you have reblogged from them when it comes to the whole Israel Gaza thing.

Also kind of related to that is there something I am not understanding about the aid bill that was passed? Some of the post I saw (the one with the center there's waving the Ukraine flags then American flags) sounds like you opposed it even though I kind of feel like it was said somewhere that there was no issue of the United States supporting Ukraine, Israel and Taiwan. I mean like hell I think even Republicans when it comes to Israel support the bill so I just don't understand what is the problem

I choose the people I follow based on the content of their blogs, not how perfectly their beliefs match up with mine. I have a few mutuals I disagree with on certain issues, as do most regular people I think. As for nerdylilpeebeee, I don't follow her and I don't know if she follows me (that's another thing I don't check when I reblog posts or follow blogs), but a lot of posts with her responses come across my dash and I generally agree with her on Israel, as do the people I follow who reblog those posts, so that's why you see a lot of her stuff on my blog.

As for the aid, we've sent billions and billions of dollars to Ukraine and have absolutely nothing to show for it except a stalemate war and missing money. Ukraine gets us nothing, has been a black hole of our tax dollars, and the scene of American politicians waving Ukrainian flags in congress while chanting Ukraine! Ukraine! was utterly disgusting. No flag should ever be flown on or within US government buildings except the American flag. No elected official should ever wave any flag except the American flag. Ukraine is literally a virtuous flag for pathetic politicians to fly to show that they're supporting the "right" thing, and it's long past time we stopped wasting tax dollars propping up a jet setting poser and his Nazi bridage.

Israel and Taiwan are different. Supporting both of those nations gives us allies in hostile regions. It gives us not only important strategic allies, but important diplomatic avenues with countries that we need leverage over in order to survive. Russia is not a threat to the US right now. China and the terrorist nations in the Middle East are. It's worth the money spent to keep allies in those regions that help project American influence.

[slashdementia7734]

San Francisco DESTROYED you, Discharge (but you brought that on yourself)...

"By the time Discharge’s van rolled into San Francisco, the band had been on the road for weeks. The first show, in New York City, set the tone for the whole tour. As Jim MacNaughton, a 46-year-old New York scene veteran, remembers it, angry punks bought cans of Budweiser from the bar and hurled them, unopened, at the band. Another indignity followed: the singer of another legendary hardcore band, the Bad Brains, allegedly climbed into the balcony lugging a garbage can full of water then dumped it onto Discharge’s heads.

In San Francisco, the band was slated to play the Farm, a cavernous warehouse wedged between looping freeways in a rundown, industrial part of the city. It was a punk club, a chaotic place where punks and skinheads and metalheads regularly fought each other, along with the Latino gangs that held sway over the neighborhood. 

That night a crowd of a thousand, most of them punks, had packed into the club. There’s no video of the show, but thanks to Nate Wilson, the proprietor of a blog named True Punk & Metal, we have a complete audio record. The then twenty-year-old metalhead taped it on a Walkman, perched on a bench near the soundboard.

Word traveled slowly back then, mostly via ‘zines, so many people didn’t know about the band’s transformation. It was obvious, though, as soon as Discharge took the stage: tight leather, spandex shirts, pouffed-up hair. According to Wilson, a surge of disgust ran through the crowd. “We all just went, ‘Ugh—they look like posers.’”

Discharge kicked things off with a new song. With the benefit of perspective, it’s not that terrible of a song. Cal’s caterwauling voice remains a tough sell, but the band sounds vital, and the rhythm section swings with an appealing looseness. It’s sinuous and a bit sleazy, more like Guns N’ Roses’ sidewinding “Mr. Brownstone,” which would be released the following year, than the plodding hair-metal epics of the day.

But on this stage, in front of this crowd, it was heresy. Worse, Cal had adopted some new, suspiciously rock star-ish moves, high-stepping around the stage, wagging his finger like Mick Jagger. Wilson says, “He looked like a less athletic David Lee Roth.”

On the tape, you can hear the first boo a mere 33 seconds into the song. The “Fuck Yous” took over shortly thereafter. They rolled through the crowd, petering out for a minute then returning even louder the next.

The end of the second song, nearly eight minutes in, elicited a weak cheer, a few claps, and a robust chant of “D.R.I.”—a local thrash band on the rise, which had played earlier that night. 

That might be when people began throwing garbage, a steady rain of beer cans and anything else that wasn’t nailed down. Discharge stubbornly kept playing.

Five minutes later, following an audible “smack”—a beer can hit its mark, perhaps—the guitarist stopped playing. The rhythm section continued for ten more seconds, then the whole thing fell apart. The band walked off the stage, to the loudest crowd roar of the night.

For the next fifteen minutes, a succession of Farm staffers and scene guys harangued the crowd. “Man, you guys are a bunch of fucking closed-minded idiots!” one yelled.

But still the booing.

Finally, after two-thirds of the audience had left, Discharge reemerged. “Everyone settled down now?” Cal asked.

Alas, no. They made it through two more songs. The hail of garbage never ceased.

When Discharge left the stage for the second and final time, it had played a total of nineteen minutes.

Wilson says that Cal was crying.

[crownhate]

For a genre that seems stuck (yet thriving!) in an endless cycle of regurgitation, hardcore sure loves to keep its margins for permittance quite thin. Veer too far out of bounds, and, well, you're simply not hardcore anymore—see ya later, poser! This headstrong commitment to purity doesn't exactly foster innovation, but where creative growth wilts, ingenuity flourishes like mold to fromage bleu. Think smart, play dumb, as they always say. Few modern bands have managed to exploit this loophole to sizeable success, but the ones who have (dare I say, Knocked Loose and Turnstile?) have been dropping the tracks for others to follow in their path, and they are well among us. No Cure is one of those few up-and-coming groups that have managed to bite off a chunk of notoriety by delivering a sound that is both fresh and viscerally gripping without ever breaking the rules of what it means to be a hardcore band. They have studied the craft of taking a sound rooted in decades of tradition and pumping it so full of helium that it POPS. Evil death metal leads and tectonic C Standard riffage are held accountable only by their ability to ignite a room full of spin kicks and windmills, just as the odd guttural squeal and grind riff are vigilantly reined in by gang chants, primitive tom grooves, and an overarching commitment to unity in the face of oppression. Take nineteen minutes of metallic hardcore bliss, where each riff is meticulously designed to maximize the impact of the next, then top it off with a plethora of guest features from some of Alabama's finest, and you have nothing short of a spectacle on your hands. I Hope I Die Here is nearly suffocating at the edges of its EP format, begging to lash out.

[memorycardviii]

Oh dear, tu le sais que je suis always in love de tes créa, de ta pâte graphique, de ton imaginaire, de tout??? Comment résister au chant des sirènes quand tu ouvres tes suggestions??? I can't. J'ignore si elle t'inspirera, mais j'viens te poser cette "petite" galerie de Milly Alcock juste ici ( imgbox(.)com/g/FXTM6fbZvc ), avec un jolie ruban autour et plein de paillettes, des fois que, sait-on jamais? 👀💜 Plein de love sur toi, take care 🫶

Coucouuuuu 🖤. Encore une fois, merci pour tes mots, tes reblogs (qui ne font que m'apporter joie et rire à chaque fois). J'espère que ces 4 petites choses vont te plaire, ça m'a fait du bien d'ouvrir Photoshop pour toi. 🥰

[celticbotanart]

Wrote a very depressing tweet earlier, but was a coward and deleted it.

So, instead of being depressed AF on main, I'll take one of the things I said in it and will elaborate in a much better, healthier manner, which is... gushing about music, my beloved, my hyperfixation ~

In the tweet I mentioned André Matos, a BR singer, composer, pianist with a literal degree in classical music and conducting.

He became a literal metal legend here in BR specially in the 90s/2000s. Like for real - he was THIS CLOSE to replace Bruce Dickinson when he left Iron Maiden in the early 90s (Andre was in the 3rd place of choice).

Unfortunately, Andre passed away in 2019 at early age of 47 due to a cardiac arrest - it was very sudden and a shock to everybody, it's kind of insane even now looking back and remembering he's gone.

Anyway. That being said, enough with the sad stuff and let's turn this into THE COOLEST THING you guys will ever learn about Brazilian music!! As a kid, Andre Matos was the vocalist of a band named Viper, and later on as a young adult he joined Angra, a band that still exists to this day with other members and vocalists - BTW!!! SMALL PARENTESIS, the vocalist who replaced Andre in Angra, Edu Falaschi, sang the Brazilian version of "Pegasus Fantasy", Saint Seiya's opening theme back then!! Still a fucking banger, and Edu STILL often sings it to this day; Edu isn't in Angra anymore, I think???

But yeah. As you can see, we're already getting epic and complex and I didnt even get to Andre yet lol ANYWAY!! This is Angra with the OG formation with Andre as the lead singer/keyboardist - he's the 3rd one, the pretty boi in the middle, hehe

Angra was one of the pivotal points in Brazilian hard rock/metal; Sepultura is right there with them, I think - I don't know a lot about Sepultura (that's my sister's territory lol), but I know that much.

I'll skip straight into Angra's stuff cause there's where the good stuff begins!

First album of theirs is called "Angels Cry" and the title song is SUCH a quintessential Angra / Andre Matos song, i swear to gods. And the album art sdkjfhsdkfjshdf it's very Graphic Passion Is My Design. Don't be fooled by the dated album art tho:

Here you'll hear the "classic music interludes" that were very common in Andre Matos' songs due to his background and training in classic music. It's SOOOO 80s and their Iron Maiden influence is SCREAMING, quite literally. Worth mentioning I'm not an Iron Maiden fan lol btw #Poser

Another CLASSIQUE-TM from Angels Cry is "Time".

I'll throw the official videoclip in here because it's hilarious, even though the song slaps ksdjfhskdj (André's corny, pretty metal boi look in his early Angra days is kind of a goal to transNB me, ngl. #GenderEnvy)

WELL, do you guys know folk metal? Like, when we say that, it's usually metal + medieval/European instruments (like Eluveitie, for example).

In 96, Angra did what I like to consider "Brazilian folk metal", metal with BR elements and influences, in their album "Holy Land"

The concept of the album was like, the great navigations but it was also kind of a commentary in colonization - Brasil is our "holy land", and a lot of the songs feature this epicness and bittersweetness, joy and sorrow of being BR. The songs are in ENG, which is kind of ironic, but still The songs being in ENG is due to a lot of factors tbh, all of them involving the fact that Brazil doesn't embrace metal a lot, and they wanted to to sell their songs outside BR bc of that. Which sucks, but i get it.

Here we have CAROLINA IV, an epic describing a ship at sea, and it also references the Portuguese who arrived in BR back in the 1500s.

The song is all in ENG except the intro, which is a chant dedicated to Iemanjá / Janaína / Iemoja, the orisha of the seas and the most well-known orisha around here, if I'm not mistaken

"Hail, hail Yemoja, Hail Janaína And everything that was made in the waters They throw flowers at the sea God save the Queen And my journey on this sphere An orishas' caboclo Soon leaves the Earth Meeting his fate Where the sky meets the sea He will find his safe harbor And that's how it ends..."

Black culture and religions are strong here in BR, and this chant and the instruments used are a tribute to them <3 If you guys know of or remember Michael Jackson's "They Don't Really Care About Us", that's the same beat/Afro-Brazilian influence - in MJ's song, it was the famous group Olodum who did it, I don't know if they were involved in Angra's Holy Land though. "Carolina IV" is a very long with a lot of changes in pace and even genres (again, classical music interludeTM). It's very epic, very 80s metal, and very Brazilian as well, it has everything I love, ahhh <3

In the early 2000s, Andre left Angra and he and other, previous Angra members formed the band Shaman.

I think it's good for me to reiterate at this point that while we had bands like Angra and Sepultura, the metal genre WAS NOT and NEVER WAS mainstream here in BR.

So, the fact that Shaman became incredibly popular in the early 2000s because one of their songs "became to mainstream" was kind of an anomaly. THIS, MY FRIENDS, is where my story with Andre Matos' music starts. Because this was early 2000s, I was around 13 and the reason why I knew about the band, alongside hundreds of other teens at the time, was because a song by Shaman became soundtrack to a BR telenovela. The telenovela in question was O Beijo do Vampiro ("The Vampire's Kiss") and as the name suggests, it had vampires and 'edgy dark fantasy stuff' cause it was more targeted for a younger audience, as the protagonist was this middle schooler aged boy who was actually the son of a vampire.

The BANGER, THE ETERNAL, EVERLASTING ANTHEM from Shaman they chose as a soundtrack to that freaking telenovela was "Fairy Tale", from their first album "Ritual":

I swear to god, this song is fucking everything to any Brazilian metal fan my age. It was a literal game changer to a lot of us, because this was how we discovered or started really appreciating metal, since we were too young to catch on Viper in the 80s or Angra in the 90's. Other bands like Evanecscence, Nightwish and Linkin Park were also starting to become popular, so a lot of metal styles were coming around around that period.

Including a Brazilian singer that also leaned more towards a heavier sound, Pitty! That song is from her first album.

ANWYAY, BACK TO ANDRE MATOS - I'll make an exception here, and share two versions of the same song. I've shared the official videoclip with the studio recording, and below, is a very beloved live performance from 2003:

I'm sharing both versions because they are slightly different - studio ver starts with a religious chant in latin, and the live version includes a violin, played by Marcus Viana (another conductor and a famous composer of soundtracks for Brazilian shows and movies). In the live ver you can also see Andre Matos SLAYING on the piano because dude was a literal master of his craft ksjdfhksjdf

The song starts all calm with the piano, very lullaby-like, and then BAM!, 80s METAL HAIRFLIP AND GUITARS AND EPICNESS. And then it ends how it started. It's such a beautiful track. I love it so much, such a true banger. Makes me nostalgic AF, and I love the "epic tale" nature it has.

Another personal favorite of mine from that time comes from their second album, a track called Born to Be:

I love how it mixes mellow piano lines with heavier metal arrangements, it was kind of their thing and they did it so well! And by the way, I am aware the name of the band / cover of first album might be considered problematic nowadays?? It was the 2000s, unfortunately those things happened a lot. It's looking back into our teen years and realizing things were not as pristine as we remembered fskjdfhksd oh man. But yeah. Aside from that, the songs slap so hard, specially if you like the 80s metal feel. And speaking of the 80s music, Andre covered some pretty badass, daring songs over the years, not only but including... ..."Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" from Journey, which he recorded after he left Shaman and went solo in the late 2000s:

I cannot affirm that for a fact, but I think this cover is sort of a "meme" because it was kind of a recurring joke that Andre Matos sang like Bruce Dickinson but looked like he was Steve Perry's "long lost son". Steve Perry was the most well-known vocalist from Journey. The "Dont Stop Believin" Journey:

(The picture above is Andre when he was like 15yo in Viper btw dfkjjsdf) And like, this is pretty fucking funny cause if you are here following my art for long enough - like REALLY, REALLY LONG ENOUGH, around 2009 deviantart -, you'll def remember me in my Journey/Steve Perry phase. And my Andre Matos phase too, it was around the same time lol

ANYWAY. BEST FOR LAST. CAUSE THE LAST IS "WUTHERING HEIGHTS" COVER. THE KATE BUSH "WUTHERING HEIGHTS". YEAH. THAT ONE.

Madlad decided to make a metal cover of Kate Bush with this falsetto voice and he just. He just did it. DIDNT CHANGE / ADAPT THE LYRICS, EITHER. You'll hear 22 year old Andre Matos in 1993 fucking scream at the top of his lungs HEATHCLIFF IT'S ME CATHY, I'VE COME HOME, I'M SO COLD LET ME IN-A-YOUR WINDOW. And he's singing VERY VERY HIGH NOTES, this song is fucking hard to sing y'all, I'll let you know right now lol. Anyway.

Here was the Andre Matos / Angra / partial Brazilian Metal history for you, and I hope you like the song recs, and if not, I hope you enjoy the trivia at least!

Remembering his music earlier made me nostalgic, but also made me sad, bc a lot has happened ever since 2003 and the "Vampire Telenovela". I've created OCs inspired by him - it was a two-in-one sort of OC, and he's retired for over a decade now; and I didn't do much with him anyway, so no artworks to show.

And I'm seriously considering bringing his music and influence back to a more recent OC (if you read my post about me looking for a new voice to my transitioned OC, that's what I'm talking about). It's a funny way to go back to where some things started.

That (and a lot of other, unrelated stuff) made me super sad earlier.

Andre Matos left us way too soon, and like I said earlier, it's always weird remembering he's dead, because it doesnt feel like that, to me. Maybe the fact I always "forget" he's gone is because his music and influence on me as a person still lives on, which is sort of a comfort~

-

commission info | patreon | kofi | twitter

[womanofwords]

Nerd Juvie (Chapter 1)

The crowd was chanting my name. Not my real name, of course. My biker name. They had gotten into the habit of doing that as I drove up to the road.

"Hey, Comet!

"What's up, Comet!

"Put it there, Comet!"

Lee grabbed me into a hug. "Comet, buddy, good to see you. You've been gone for so long," he said.

"Sorry, I couldn't get away," I said. That was true. I'd been grounded by my folks and barely got alone time to go to the bathroom, let alone sneak out of the house.

"You hear about Solar? Dude's awesome, man. Outran the cops once, I heard."

"Sounds hardcore."

"He is hardcore." A motorbike's purr rumbled towards us. "And here he is."

A man rode towards us on a bike with a sun motif on the side. He wore black and was intimidating right from the get-go. The same sun patch that was on his bike was on the back of his jacket. I had briefly thought about having something like that for myself, but I didn't want people thinking I was a poser.

"You must be Comet." His voice was gravelly, like he gargled acid before breakfast and it messed up his vocal chords. "You seem a little young to be here. Isn't it your bedtime?"

The crowd oohed. "Isn't it your naptime, old man?" I asked him.

He laughed. "Oh, you're adorable. That's cute, kid. Beating you is going to be fun."

"You know the drill, guys, you only go when I say so," Lee said, cutting into our trash talk. "Three times around the track. On your marks . . . get set . . . go!"

Solar took the lead, but I was close behind. He wasn't as ridiculous as we all thought. But the first bend was about to come up. Solar wouldn't stand a chance. But I would, thanks to my bike.

My bike used to be a collection of scraps I salvaged from the garbage dump. It was up to me to make it into something great. It hovered when I wanted it to, went much faster than any normal bike, and with the holographic shield I put on it, it even changed colour. It would blend in perfectly outside of a race. I had the perfect bike. I made it the perfect bike.

I took the bend with ease, leaving Solar in the dust. I was winning this race. The distance between us stretched like elastic. I was winning. I was the best underground racer any of these suckers had ever seen. And Solar would just have to-

"Cops!" someone screamed, and everybody scattered.

"Get yourself out of here, kid," Solar said, racing off. One of the cop cars followed him.

I went to my bike's touchscreen and adjusted a few settings. It was about time my shooting star began to fly.

My bike hovered with a stutter before settling into a sweet purr, and I angled it higher. I was not going to be the one to get busted.

"Hey, he's going up!" a police officer yelled.

"Great observation, moron!" I yelled. "Sorry to keep you waiting, but I gotta fly!"

I loved flying on my bike; everything looked small and harmless underneath me. I just wish I could stay in the air forever.

But I don't get what I want very often.

The world spun as I fell to earth. The bike's battery beeped a digital swan song as I fell like Icarus.

This was as far as my wax wings would take me.

If you want to read the other chapters, see Masterlist.

[cedricenergeticien]

La Tente Blanche est un concept inspiré par les cercles de partage traditionnels et est conçu comme un espace de partage et de soutien pour les hommes. C'est un groupe de partage autogéré, gratuit et ouvert à tous. Elle offre un espace pour que les hommes se retrouvent, s’expriment et s’écoutent dans un cadre fraternel.Les participants peuvent parler d’eux-mêmes, proposer des expériences (comme la danse, le chant, ou des rituels), poser des demandes et recevoir du soutien du groupe (paroles, résonances, conseils, etc.). Un cadre strict de confidentialité, de respect et de bienveillance est maintenu par les participants, qui agissent en tant que facilitateurs et non en tant qu’animateurs, car la Tente Blanche n’est pas un groupe de thérapie. La Tente Blanche est un lieu de créativité, d’expression et de ressourcement, où tout vécu personnel est le bienvenu et où chaque rencontre est unique, dépendant de ce qui est partagé et de l’implication de chacun.

à Arras. 06 75 72 21 62

#cercledhommes

[jeanchrisosme]

Apprenez à votre enfant à aimer la nature, à tomber amoureux d'un coucher de soleil, être heureux avec une fleur en fleurs, écouter le chant de la mer Et pour s'émerveiller devant les couleurs de l'aube. Apprenez à votre fils à aimer un chaton perdu Pour protéger et aider l'oiseau qui ne peut pas voler. Apprenez-leur à se poser des questions sur la pluie et le ciel bleu. Apprenez-leur à aimer les nuages, car sans eux, vous ne remarqueriez pas Le miracle d'un rayon de soleil. Apprenez-leur à écouter les criquets chanter et pour se réjouir d'une nuit de lune magique. Apprenez-leur à voir la douleur derrière un sourire. Apprenez-leur à lire le regard de tous ceux qu'ils rencontrent dans la rue. Apprenez-leur tout ce qu'est l'amour.

Alessia S. Lorenzi

[carretera-de-mis-suenos]

Las Yungas 🦜

Cette partie de l'Argentine est beaucoup moins connue des touristes. J'ai dû moi-même faire de longues recherches pour trouver où il fallait se rendre pour observer cette jungle.

Les Yungas font partie de la région de Jujuy, contrastant totalement avec les paysages désertiques habituels. Ce n'est pas aussi dense qu'une forêt amazonienne, mais c'est pourtant bien une jungle abritant la plus grande biodiversité d'Argentine. Avec un peu de chance, il est même possible d'y croiser des jaguars 🐆 !

Après m'être bien renseignée, j'ai trouvé le Parque Nacional Calilegua, une immense reverse naturelle dans laquelle nous serions sûrs d'observer cette nature verdoyante de près. Nous nous sommes donc rendus à Libertador General San Martín, la dernière ville avant le parc. Après quelques courses nous sommes partis nous enfoncer dans ce monde sauvage.

À l'entrée du parc nous avons été accueillis par un des gardes forêt qui nous a montré les divers sentiers à faire et nous a indiqué l'emplacement du camping pour déposer notre DoudiCuatro.

Comme nous étions arrivés un peu tard, nous avons fait les trois petits sentiers courts de l'entrée du parc qui présentent la jungle mais aussi les légendes et les créatures qui entourent ce lieu mystique.

Après une nuit paisible bercée par les chants d'oiseaux, nous sommes repartis en forme pour faire deux autres randonnées. L'une amenait à la rivière tout en bas de la jungle, l'autre se nommait "bosque del cielo" (littéralement "forêt du ciel") et nous emmenait tout en haut la jungle, au-dessus des nuages.

Je pense pouvoir affirmer que cette partie du voyage a été de loin ma préférée. Cette réserve est un lieu très fort en énergie et la connexion avec la nature et les esprits qui y vivent est intense. J'ai pris le temps d'y méditer en remerciant les lieux de nous accueillir. Nous avons respecté le silence imposé par la grandeur de cette forêt primaire et je pense qu'une part de mon cœur y est restée, perdue au milieu des feuilles. C'était magique !

Le dernier jour, alors que nous rangions la voiture, nous avons pu assister à un spectacle incroyable. Une quinzaine d'oiseaux magnifiques est venue se poser près de nous en chantant et en nous regardant. Nous avons pu les approcher de très près, et ils venaient même picorer nos quelques restes de nourriture dans nos mains. Ils ont effectué un véritable ballet aérien autour de nous, comme pour nous remercier d'avoir respecté les lieux. Je pense que cette expérience ira facilement dans le top 10 des choses les plus folles que j'ai pu voir. Après un long moment passé à leur côté, ils se sont enfuis quand d'autres visiteurs sont arrivés, comme pour confirmer que cet instant nous était exclusivement réservé. Quelle chance nous avons eu.

Nous avons quitté la jungle après trois jours en totale déconnexion, des étoiles plein les yeux et le cœur. Merci l'Argentine !

Besitos,

Luna

[cleoselene]

song of the day

Bauhaus - Bela Lugosi’s Dead

Self-indulgently, overly long.  Repetitively dramatic.  Decadently morbid.  All ways I would describe goth music general, and also how I would describe this song.  Which is why if you asked me: what one song would you choose to represent the gothic side of gothic/industrial, I would tell them Bela Lugosi’s Dead by Bauhaus.  It’s so symbolic of goth music and goth culture of the 80s and 90s that many of the Too Cool 4 U Goths (and there were so many, I used to joke that the only thing you needed to be a goth was to sincerely and arrogantly believe you are more goth than someone else.  Nothing to do with clothes music, lol, just a smug assertion of being more goth than someone else gives you Goth Eligibility) would groan in PAIN when the opening notes of this would start up at The Castle or The Edge back in Tampa in 1997, because it’s almost ten fucking minutes long of Peter Murphy chanting “I’M DEAD I’M DEAD I’M DEAD” over and over again and it’s painfully goth to the point of almost feeling like parody.

I fucking love it, lol.

My Snob-goth days are well behind me, and while I’m not a Dirt-goth (lol what I used to call goths back in the day with crummy taste in music who listened to stuff like Marilyn Manson and Type O Negative and not ~REAL~ goth music.  Type O is fine tbh but you wouldn’t catch me dead listening to Brian Warner -- even before we knew what a creep he was I thought he was a poser and a hack), I have gotten over my music snobbery because honestly, being a music snob is a really good way to make yourself miserable.  If you can’t let yourself enjoy the shit you actually enjoy because you’re afraid of being “cringe” or whatever, you’re honestly only hurting yourself.  When I let go of being a music snob and embraced the fact that along with the killer cool shit I listened to like Bauhaus or Skinny Puppy, I also really liked Madonna and The Chicks and Barry Manilow, my life became so much happier, and despite popular opinion, most goths don’t actually want to be depressed.  Goths like me contain multitudes, if we allow ourselves!

So you’ll never catch me rolling my eyes at this perfectly representative goth anthem.  Peter Murphy can’t really do wrong musically in my eyes, anyway.