#renu is mine

[angelcasendgame]

forget everything else what are your destiel day (5/11/20) wrapped songs?

[lok-shakti]

Bulandshahr News: महिला अफसरों की कार्रवाई से अवैध खनन माफियाओं की उड़ी नींद, जिले में मची खलबली

Bulandshahr News: महिला अफसरों की कार्रवाई से अवैध खनन माफियाओं की उड़ी नींद, जिले में मची खलबली

बुलंदशहर: यूपी के बुलंदशहर में दो महिला अफसरों ने अवैध रूप से मिट्टी का खनन करने वाले दो माफियाओं के खिलाफ कड़ी कार्रवाई की है। वहीं पुलिस टीम ने मौके से दो जेसीबी मशीन और 3 डंपर को कब्जे में लिया है। फिलहाल पुलिस मामले की जांच में जुटी है। जानकारी के मुताबिक बुलंदशहर कोतवाली देहात क्षेत्र के शिकारपुर रोड स्थित मिर्जापुर गांव के पास दिनदहाड़े खेतों में मिट्टी का अवैध खनन हो रहा था। सूचना मिलने पर…

[butchkaramazov]

A Shade Darker Than Red: Chapter 2

Ten years had passed by in the blink of an eye. Paro and I saw each other often—while coming back from tuitions, we stopped to treat each other to rabri kulfi—other times, our mothers met up and sent us away to Paro’s room to talk about whatever.

That day, ten years ago, Maa had indeed freaked out when she came home. After an hour-long lecture and a peck on the forehead, we walked down the block with a box of rasgullas as I hung onto her elbow, feet barely brushing against the pavement.

Our mothers had a lovely chat while we pretended to organise a court case with our Barbies. It was certainly weird, now that I think of it—but it was a start.

At fifteen, we had grown closer still. Papa appeared in my dreams often, but if I stole Paro’s cologne and wore it myself, he would slowly fade into the background. Sometimes, when I woke up sweating, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, gently guiding me back to reality. It was Paro—I knew it by the way her fingers splayed across my shoulder, her nails digging into my bones, crushing the marrow open. I want to see, Renu. Let me see the words written inside you. Is it still red?

When I turned, it wasn’t Paro. It was thin air. 

Red air.

But when I held Paro’s hand, swinging it as we sang Kishore Kumar in the wrong key, it was white.

It was normal.

It was nice.

When I held Paro’s hand, Papa seemed as much of a myth as the Gods.

As the day of our board examinations grew nearer, Paro began to come over more often. She was exceptional in the Sciences—whereas I excelled in neither, deciding to rot away in my bedroom, writing things on red paper only to crumple it up and throw it in the red dustbin.

Paro, on the other hand, made chemistry—the demon king of the Sciences—seem like a tiny kitten—a thing to adore, not be frightened of. 

After her daily ‘coaching’, as I liked to tease her, she shut the door to her bedroom and practised bharatanatyam. Sometimes, she allowed me to watch her practice. I always went in with my notebook, in case inspiration struck at the strangest of times. Once she started dancing, however, the pen remained tucked behind my ear.

She had been dancing since she was nine—and yet, she moved like an apsara who had spent her immortal life doing nothing but dancing—she moved like a wild deer, a fierce, glazed look in her eyes; her every step falling on beat, making the ground shake. She was mercy, she was ruthlessness. She was dark, she was light. She was Kaali, she was Parvati.

She was mine, and she was not mine.

One evening, one of the many nights when she allowed me a glimpse into her divinity, I caught sight of things I had refused to acknowledge before—the slight tremor of her fingers when she held a mudra for far too long, how her eyes grew darker when the sunlight clouded her with its divine embrace, a vein throbbing in her temple, a stray strand of hair falling over her face as she held her stance, glaring defiantly at who knows what.

And just like that, the music stopped.

Paro clapped her hands and beamed at me. “So, how was it?” she asked, breathless.

“Great,” I breathed. Divine, on the tip of my tongue.

Even in her slightly frayed shirt and messy bun, she looked like a goddess shrouded in sunlight. And oh, how I wished to be the sunlight. Her sunlight.

“Oh, you,” she chuckled, swatting my shoulder playfully.

“Oh, you,” I repeated under my breath.

@avani-amulya @manujanolavu @nirmohi-premika @lovesickpdf @arachneofthoughts @sonilaalbindi @desi-yearning @alhad-si-simran @thatpagalchokri @trashmeowcan @waitingforthesunrise @vellibandi @thesunandstarss @chanda-chamke-cham-cham if you want to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know<3

ok this is slightly unhinged. c'mon, we all are :')

[artmindmachine]

Another month full of art coming to an end! This month I took a little break from reference sheets and focused a lot on my personal characters, pushing the boundaries in themes and exploring content. This resulted in a lot of sketches, especially NSFW from Rela and Renu. I've also reworked another old painting of mine to raise it to my current skill, did quite a lot of in-stream sketch commissions as well as a couple picture of my girls. Also a cute 'pin up' of Renu - you will have multiple alt versions of that one.

If you're interested in any of that (and more) and would like to support my work please consider checking out my patreon! If you're joining before the end of the month you'll receive the HD files as always! I'm so thankful to everybody supporting me and making this possible! <3

[newepisodetodayoffical]

Udne Ki Aasha Written Update: Sayali discovers Renu locked up 5th August 2024

Udne Ki Aasha Written Update: Sayali discovers Renu locked up 5th August 2024 #UdneKiAasha #UdneKiAashaWrittenUpdate #UdneKiAashaSayali #UdneKiAashaRenu #UdneKiAasha5thAugust2024 Udne Ki Aasha 5th August 2024 Written Episode, Written Update on jhanakserial.today The Episode starts with Sayali saying you have supported my family. Sachin says your family is mine, don’t say thanks and sorry. He…

[ectoblud]

Inside jokes w/ my bff

When ur fursona literally falls apart 24/7 smdh

[wandachilda]

there's a certain kind of magic of having seats further away when you can look around and see so many other army whose lives have been touched by these seven boys

[castiel]

Hi Jenn!!! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

ahH!! thank you renu!!! here's a bit from a fic where stanford era dean is in a dark place and cas saves him

“What makes life worth living?” He meant it to come out harsher than it did. He sounded broken.

Castiel’s head tilted to the side and he stared for a long moment. It felt like he was looking into his soul. Dean prepared himself for some preachy reiteration of his supposed “higher purpose”.

When the angel finally spoke, his deep voice sounded smaller than before. “I don’t know.” The words threw Dean. That was not what he’d been expecting. He tilted his head right back at Castiel in confusion. Then, like he’d never been there, the angel was gone. The soft sound of feathers flapping once, and a faint breeze was all Castiel left in his wake.

send me a 🌹 for a bit of a wip of mine!

[talesfromgringolandia]

Underwing Challenge Day 6 - What does your portfolio look like? Talk about as many other WIPs as you’d like here.

So how far back do I want to go? I’ve had a lot of WIPs. Not as much as some people I’ve seen in this challenge. A lot of them I’m not actually working on anymore, but I’d like to get back to one day.

Besides Bo and Shen, these are the WIP’s that are still, well, in progress.

Elissa:

The next most recent WIP I worked on is called Elissa, because the main character is named Elissa.(I am very creative). Elissa began as a project with a friend of mine, based on a dream she had. The title character is an android who has been raised believing she’s human. The story begins when she discovers she is an android. She has been raised by two people: her adoptive mother is Claudia, a devout Catholic who has been following the rules of the lab by not teaching Elissa any of her faith. She regrets that now, and begins trying to introduce Elissa to the faith. The other is Jacob, a staunch atheist who doesn’t believe Elissa is honestly human. He hasn’t really been raising Elissa, not like Claudia has, but he’s been very involved as a scientist. Elissa has to deal with the existential implications of her nature, and that's before she learns about the apocalypse which occurred a hundred years ago.

The Technarchs Rule:

This one still doesn’t have a name, because there’s no one story so far, just a universe I find super interesting. It actually began as the history of the anarchic period of the world of Boot Camp Renus, but as things developed, I found myself more interested in a post-apocalyptic world instead. I also found myself forgetting my fictional planets more and more, and focusing much more on Mars.

The solar system has been colonized for a while. Martian Iron, the product of smelting the red soil, is one of the most powerful metals of the solar system, and is vital for modern spaceship hulls. It's also incredibly common, being the literal dirt on Mars.

Eventually, there is tension over who gets to use the dirt, as Earth-based companies continue to mine it without permission from Mars. This blows over into an actual war for independence between Mars and Earth, with all other colonies picking sides.

During the war, each side races to create the perfect AI, which could predict the location of a ship and its strategy in seconds. Mars wins this race by performing unethical experiments on children, creating the first Computer-Child. This boy soon rises through the ranks of the army, and once he has the authority, orders the nuking of the Earth's surface. This was a line that previously, neither side had dared to cross. After rendering Earth uninhabitable, the computer-child assumes control of Mars as Technarch, cybernetically enhancing himself until he is functionally immortal. The rest of the solar system falls into chaos and anarchy. This is the setting.

The Technarch creates a cult following around himself, and out of his followers, selects several (probably 12) to be his Olympians, cyborgs who had been enhanced to the point of being nearly unstoppable.

Other characters include assassin bots Kenta and Deko, and a bounty hunter named Van Dorn.

A Christmas Story / A Letter from Pelznickel:

Does it count as a WIP if it's finished? This is the only project I’ve ever finished, and it got second place in a writing competition. It's my idea of the origin story of Santa Claus. I can’t decide between the two titles. Pelznickel is actually a character in folklore believed to be a proto-Santa Claus, which is why I used that name. I tried to only use names in actual Santa lore, and it worked really well, I think.

Under the cut, I’ll include the WIP’s that hold a deep place in my heart, but I haven’t worked on in years, for various reasons.

Yellowstone:

One of my first projects ever. It's about a post-apocalypse but with superheroes. When a radioactive meteor lands in Yellowstone National Park and starts infecting people with a fatal disease, the government builds a radioactive-proof wall around the park and the surrounding areas, leaving the people trapped inside to fend for themselves. A small percentage of people are immune to the disease, and the children of these survivors are discovered to have strange powers. A generation later, people have left the cities and settled around farms and villages for food. Damon and his sister Emma are no different, living on the ranch of Jarod Levin, an immune survivor of the radiation. When a newcomer named Jonas Reed arrives trying to make the first map of the area, everything changes for them. By everything changes, I mean a raiding party appears, burns the ranch down, and kills everybody but Damon, Emma, their friend Ian, Jonas, and another girl named Melissa. I then realized I had no plot after that, and have not written for it since. But this was my first foray into worldbuilding with seven chapters of introduction to the world, as well as dynamics between the characters before the place burns down. They are definitely some of my favorite characters I have ever created, probably more than even the characters in Bo and Shen.

Boot Camp Renus:

My first foray into Science Fiction. After centuries of anarchy, the three colonized solar systems have finally been united under the Interstellar Democracy, or ISD. Deko Fost, a Martian teenager, is struggling with guilt after the death of his sister 2 years ago. In an attempt to redeem himself, he decides to join the Star Force, and is sent to the planet Renus, a small, dense world dedicated to the military boot camp. There, he meets Earthling Norenaya Amankai, daughter of missing war hero Roka Amankai; and Hagane Kenta, an Atlantean man who has no restrictions on what he will do to succeed. Minor characters are two twins who are intentionally carbon copies of the Weasley twins, just different hair color. The themes focus on Deko’s Catholic faith, and on his recovery. Norenaya, or Naya, is not mentally prepared for boot camp, and has to find strength to make it through. Kenta learns to respect Deko for succeeding even despite being sabotaged.

I wrote to the point they got to the bootcamp, and then had no idea what happened next.

My favorite part of this was the worldbuilding. I made three really cool planets. Atlantis has an atmosphere of water, and the Atlanteans live miles beneath the surface in specially constructed buildings. Atlanteans have stupid pale skin, and was also originally settled by the Japanese. Vrill is a massive planet with a strong gravitational pull, and is populated by massive dinosaur creatures that are big enough to build a city on, which people do. The only time people built a city on the ground didn’t end well. Vrillan settlers, over generations, have become short and strong. Kol is a planet that spews gas and dust constantly, and is full of valuables for mining. As such, it has a reputation as a planet of oppressors who exploit the population to maximize their riches. The people have been around the natural pollution for generations, to the point that their skin pigment is now a dusty gray.

The astute among you will realize I use the same names in Boot Camp Renus as in the Technarch Rule. This doesn’t mean anything, I was just lazy when coming up with names for my Martian androids.

[angelcasendgame]

For the desticule only, please ramble in the tags about work you're the most proud of and why!! (Doesn't have to be destiel related though!)

[nebulcsa]

weird cloudy day 

[butchkaramazov]

A Shade Darker Than Red: Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

The same day. 15:01.

I felt Paro long before I saw her.

The way the leaves rustled and nodded towards the sky, the way the red seemed to clear away. 

Next, I heard her.

Firm, sure footsteps resounded on the pavement. I imagined her walking towards me with her head held high, an earthen cup of steaming black tea in her hand.

And finally, I saw her.

She looked like the rich (sort of extra, if you ask me) businesswoman she was meant to be, exactly how I imagined her—except she hadn’t seen me yet.

The moment she saw me, her façade slipped and a wide grin spread over her face. Her free hand almost reached up to cover her teeth. Almost. 

She ran towards me, and all I remember is that I kept telling her not to drop the tea. The next thing I saw was her arms wrapped around my shoulders, her stupid face grinning at me. 

“We literally had a tickle fight an hour ago,” I said, pushing her off. Oh God, what was I going to do with this love?

“I know,” Paro said, still grinning. “Being away from you for an hour made me miserable.”

“Hey! I’m supposed to be the poet here!”

Paro swatted me on the arm before downing her tea in one go. “Shut up and give me the ice cream.”

“Say ‘please’.”

“No.”

“Fine. Just because I’m nice.” I fished out the plastic bag, the faint silhouette of a two-in-one cup and an orange packet showing.

Paro flashed me a victorious grin before dipping her hand into the bag, snatching the two-in-one cup for herself. What a Disney villain. 

“Won’t you have yours?” she asked me.

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Why?”

“Not hungry.”

Paro eyed me suspiciously for a moment before shrugging it off. Something told me that her brain was working at the speed of a million miles per hour. 

I turned to look at the sky. It was red. 

Red.

Red.

What a familiar word.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” I whispered, mostly to myself.

Paro glanced at me. “Hm?”

“The sky,” I repeated. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Paro looked up, squinting at the midday sun. “Dude, how are you even looking at that? You’ll damage your eyes, Renu!”

Her words seemed to be coming from a faraway corridor. I looked down at my hands. Were they really my hands? Why was the sky red again? Things were getting better. Things were getting better, weren’t they?

Focus, Renu. Tickle fight. Paro. Paro. Paro.

As if on cue, Paro slipped her fingers through the gaps between mine. “Renu?” she asked softly.

I stifled a gasp and looked at her with a tight smile. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks.

“Earth to Renu!” I said, flailing my arms, trying to coax a smile out of her tensed features. I forced out a laugh. “I’m okay, Paro. Chill.”

Paro stared at—or rather, through—me. “And how exactly am I supposed to chill?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe have more ice cream?”

Paro’s lips twitched. She allowed herself to giggle briefly before turning serious again. “How dare you make me laugh in the most inappropriate situations?”

I knew what she would, inevitably, be thinking of—the day of her uncle’s funeral, when we were thirteen. Our parents were having a sombre discussion and Maa had told me to go “upstairs”. Paro and I had maintained eye contact for exactly one second before I looked terribly, terribly confused and asked: “To uncle-ji?”

Now, I looked at Paro and her barely suppressed smile. “I facepalmed so hard my head hurt,” she chuckled. 

“Now that I think of it, I’m probably the reason for your migraines,” I said.

Paro grumbled. “Nice job changing the subject, twerp. One problem: I’m not letting you go today.”

I smiled at her feeble attempt at being grumpy. “Don’t worry,” I said. “We have plenty of time.”

And that was true. We’d have days and weeks and months and years to talk about ourselves. By then, perhaps, the tinted glasses would disappear from my eyes. Everything had been red for so long I thought I had marks from the ‘rims’ of my red-tinted glasses. 

We had time. We had time for everything to subside to normal again. I had time to hold her hand and swing it and squeeze it and paint the sky in her colours.

But for now, the sky was on fire and I was sixteen.

@avani-amulya @manujanolavu @nirmohi-premika @lovesickpdf @arachneofthoughts @sonilaalbindi @desi-yearning @alhad-si-simran @thatpagalchokri @trashmeowcan @waitingforthesunrise @vellibandi @thesunandstarss @chanda-chamke-cham-cham @damnn-dorothea @the-unhinged-fanwinggg @watchingblsnowandforever please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist<3

tw: sudden anxiety attack

[renubalaworld]

Beautiful memories of Nepal visit... I visited a lot of beautiful beautiful city of Nepal in which the pokhar was very beautiful and silent and explore the heritage culture art and local food .. This visit of mine for art culture and history there,There I got to know in many small historical stories like the concept of Living goddess and many more ,it is really amazing. Don't stop your work. Work from home, protect your family. Wear a mask. 😷 Renu Bala - Pathankot Punjab #renubalaartist #art #artwork #artoftheday #landart #artlife #artgallery #illustration #illustrator #illustrate #drawing #drawingoftheday #pictureoftheday #pictures #pictureperfect #sketch #sketchbook #nepal #artislife #lifeisart #artlover #exhibition #pokhar #azerbaijan #contemporaryartistst #artist (at Nepal) https://www.instagram.com/p/CRD_EsPr0aN/?utm_medium=tumblr

[chocolatecakecas]

Hiiii! If you're still doing the playlist name thing, mine is Renu!!! 💕

Hi!!!!

R- Ramble On (Led Zeppelin)

E- Everytime We Touch (Cascada)

N- New York State of Mind (Billy Joel)

U- Upside Down (Jack Johnson)

have a great day/night wherever you are in the world!!!💛

send me your name and i’ll make you a playlist

[dove-actually]

“Of course he’s wrong, and of course it’ll end poorly. But this isn’t a fight I can win.”

Ahni’s lips pressed into a small, teasing smile. “Lady Sarra Mendi, the famed Claw in the Glove, losing a fight? Surely that would never happen.”

(thank you so much @redotter​ for the AMAZING ART 💞💞💞 check out more of Renu’s OC art here)

title: Lost Fights word count: 1000 setting: knight-training fortress, a couple of months after the end of Knight Errant, during Storm Day (e.g. summer solstice) celebrations

“Of course he’s wrong, and of course it’ll end poorly. But this isn’t a fight I can win.”

Ahni’s lips pressed into a small, teasing smile.“Lady Sarra Mendi, the famed Claw in the Glove, losing a fight? Surely that would never happen.”

I rolled my eyes, but disingenuously; irritating as that moniker was, a small, childish part of me was proud of it.  

“Not never, just very rarely.” I wiggled my eyebrows, “And I make sure those who see me lose don’t live to tell others.”

Ahni laughed, a carefree, happy sound that echoed along the old balcony stones.

“I’m sure you do. You have quite the reputation to uphold, after all.” Amusement dancing in her eyes, she leaned in, touching my arm conspiratorially.  “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret.”

She smelled of palm-oil and bara fruit, a seasonal hair pomade that I’d seen used in Dejali province in summer. The mix weighed down Ahni’s usually tight curls, turned them to looser, shiny waves that flowed down her shoulders, and the rich, sweet fragrance made the balcony feel like a lush orchard.

People in Dejali called the palm-and-bara mix the lovers brew. Newlyweds used it on their wedding nights. I wondered if Ahni knew that. Probably—there wasn’t much in the way of plants and potions that escaped her.

If she knew, I wondered what it meant that she’d chosen to use the mix, today.

“I lost a fight once, right there.” She pointed to the south training yard, distracting me. “Worst defeat of my training years. Sir Vicente had all knights-appellant—protectors and healers—practice battlefield moves together, and I got paired with Marin Abarro…”

“The Butcher?” I grimaced. I’d trained a few years behind Ahni, but Abarro’s reputation as a brutal, sadistic bully had reached everyone. “I heard even the teachers were afraid of him. Apparently he once ripped off a healer-appellant’s arm…” I trailed off, jaw dropping. “No.”

“He didn’t rip it off.” Ahni hummed, rubbing her shoulder absently, “Though not for lack of trying. My magic flared during the fight—it can happen under extreme stress, if the user isn’t fully trained—so it kept putting me back together faster than Abarro could take me apart. He wasn’t happy about it.”

If Marin Abarro hadn’t left court and retreated to some corner of his family’s land years ago, I’d have gone and ripped him to pieces right then.

“I can’t believe that was you.” I shook my head. “The whole fortress heard about the fight, but almost no one knew who he’d hurt. Lady Danya wouldn’t let us near the hearlers’ wing—I heard she even yelled at Sir Vicente…”

I paused, as noises erupted below. A gaggle of children in training tunics spilled from around the corner, blowing storm whistles and waving blue flags. We watched them cross the yard, shrieking, and I smiled as I recalled my own days fighting for the storm-the-fortress trophy, on Storm Day. Bastian and I had organized our team better: no pointless yelling, no idling around the yard…

Ahni chuckled. “You look like you want to go down there and lead them.”

I didn’t dignify her correct assumption with an answer.

“I can’t believe you fought The Butcher.” I looked back to her as the uproar died below. “Why didn’t you refuse?”

“Because Sir Vicente had ordered it. And I could take Abarro.” Ahni narrowed her eyes at me. “I could. He wasn’t skilled. He swung his sword like a bat and had no leg game—he won fights only because he broke the rules of engagement and people feared him. In a fair fight, I’d have won.”

I’d seen her fight. She was good, but too deliberate with her strikes, too focused on trying to disable rather than kill her opponent. Anyone but an equally honorable opponent would take advantage of that.

“People like Abarro don’t fight fair,” I said. “The best way to beat them is not to engage.”

She arched her eyebrows. “That’s exactly what Lady Danya said, after my fight—and it sounded far more convincing coming from her, because as far as I know, she never rode into battle on a blind horse and armed only with a chicken leg.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “The horse wasn’t blind; his eyes were just covered. And it was a very big chicken.”

Her nose wrinkled in an expression of amused doubt, and I thought to myself, again, that she was the most beautiful person I’d seen.

“Abarro was my chicken-leg battle,” she said softly. “We’d had some run-ins, over the years: he bullied healer trainees, I reported him a few times... He tried to intimidate me, too—Lady Danya caught him following me up to my quarters once, and threatened to turn his digestive system inside out.”

There was little love lost between Lady Danya and me, but I mentally cheered for her.

“When we were paired to fight, it was important to me to stand up to him. Which I did. Right up until he broke my legs, at least.” She bit back a smile, “In any case, I may have lost the fight, but I claimed the moral high ground.”

“Which I’m sure was hard to stand on, with broken legs.”

Ahni laughed, and swatted my arm, playfully. Another storm-the-fortress team ran across the yard, and we watched them attempt a failed surprise attack on the west tower.

“We broke into Abarro’s quarters, later that week,” I said, after a minute. “Dumped a bucket of tear-bean powder in his closet. And I rubbed wolf-weed over his saddle, so all the fortress horses would refuse him as a rider.”

Ahni gave me a strange look, and I shrugged.  

“We didn’t like that he’d hurt someone weaker—I know, I know, you could’ve taken him.” I held up my hands, laughing, “I didn’t even know it was you! Just wanted to teach a bully a lesson. He deserved it.”

“He did,” agreed Ahni, and for a moment we watched the training yard in silence, until she nudged me gently with her shoulder. “Very heroic, Lady Sarra. Avenging my unfair defeat.”

I snorted.

“No wonder your reputation precedes you.” She put a note of girlish breathlessness into her voice, and leaned in, squeezing my arm. “The bravest [spoiler], the [major spoiler]—the unerring champion of Scanians everywhere.”

I winced at the reminder. “I’m nobody’s champion.”  

“You’re my champion, today,” said Ahni, and she kissed my cheek, her warm hand squeezing mine briefly. “Thank you for teaching that bully a lesson.”

My cheeks heated.

“You’d have won, in a fair fight,” I said, and I squeezed her hand back.  A hunting horn yowled across the yard, making another assault in the Storm Day games, and we turned to watch, shoulder-to shoulder, surrounded by the sweet scent of palm and bara fruit.

____THE END____

And a full-sized rendering of Renu’s gorgeous depiction of this scene, because I couldn’t get this to size properly in the title photo...

LOOK AT THEM AREN’T THEY THE PRETTIEST.

[yellowcorona]

DISSONANCE - AVTechNO! feat. Hatsune Miku

Original Romaji:

Mujun ni kegareta kyōdōtai kawaisō to anata wa warau wazukana kotai sa surechigai meiro o samayō -404 (ERROR CODE)- karadajū ga yakeru yō ni ibasho o motomete iru keibetsu shite ita jōdō ni shinshoku sa renu yō koroshita ”I” harisake-sō kanashi sugita ato yo mōsō o koete ikitai yo yurusa rerunara hitaishō ni egureta ibunshi mukankei? To anata e tou sonzai riyū o sagashite iru jamana jōhō subete sakujo (DELETED) tadori tsuite mieta ketsumatsu sore ga kekkana no? Yume ga sameru koro kokoro wa chi kirete yureru hoho o kiru namida ima mo atsuku itoshī karadajū ga yakeru yō ni "WATASHI” o motomete iru keibetsu shite ita jōdō ni mitasa reru mama shitsu kushita ai harisake-sō yasashi sugiru akashi yo kako o koe `ne~e ikitai yo' yurusa renunara

English Translation:

A contradiction has plagued this community, completely deluded, you continue to laugh. Right or wrong, there's really no difference, I'm lost in this maze of -404-.

With this transparent body of mine, I long to find someplace I belong. Even if all these emotions I have hurt me, I will never let them erode.

If you should kill "I", let my tears flow, so I can at least feel sadness.

I want to break beyond this DISSONANCE, if only that were possible.

Made of broken particles, I'm but a minority. Is there a point anymore? I must ask you. There must be a reason I exist, but any flaws must be surely, completely deleted.

The end result we predicted has arrived, but is it what I truly want?

When I awaken from this dream, when my heart runs out of blood, will the tears running down my face still hold warmth and love?

With this body of mine set ablaze, I still long for a sense of "self". Even if all these emotions I have hurt me, let them fill me to the core.

If I should lose you too, let this sweet disaster be the last trace you leave.

As I remember, "I want to live on", if only that were possible.